#i'm going to start going through and try to get my groove back by answering asks (some of these are kinda old) so if u see me answering

[ballad-of-the-lamb]

i purged 300+ asks and am now left with 74 i feel like i took a shower

[wolfiesmoon]

When you suddenly cry in front of them :(

Riddle, Vil, Kalim, Malleus x gn!reader (riddle's and vil's are explicitly post overblot tho it's not super important)

i'm back to entering tartarus every day (school started again) so i thought i might as well distract myself with some hot twst guys :)

i havent been very active i know, i just cant get myself to do anything at all these days 😞i am so so sorry for making a kinda lazy short collection of blurbs but i need to get back into my writing groove somehow

(as a sidenote, i'm worried some of these might be ooc? i sincerely apologise if they are :( )

RIDDLE honestly doesn't know what to do with himself. He never really got the comfort he needed whenever he cried as a child so he had no idea how to comfort you now. He scolds himself internally for not immediately acting and just kind of freezing up beside you so he panics and tries to recall of all the times he saw someone else comforting others in order to end the extremely awkward tension as quickly as possible. He pats your back somewhat rigidly and says "There, there." In an all too awkward manner. You're caught off guard so hard by the sheer akwardness of Riddle's comfort technique that you burst out laughing, troubling Riddle even further. "W...Why are you laughing now?" The dumbfounded expression on his face is the perfect medicine for forgetting your troubles just now. Riddle unintentionally just cheered you up. After the incident, he seemingly becomes less strict with you and starts asking about how you're doing umprompted, which always pleasantly surprises you. Sometimes, Trey even shows up at Ramshackle dorm, holding a tart of your favourite flavour and saying he got orders from Riddle to deliver it to you.

VIL drops his usual strict nature for a bit. Of all people, he would be the one who could tell you were constantly acting strong and unbothered by everything going on around you. He thought of it equal parts admirable as he did foolish. Such intense emotion is not something to keep bottled up inside you and you made him realise that. His expression is surprisingly soft as he places one arm on your back, gently stroking it. He talks you through your feelings with a big sense of maturity and care and you're suprised by just how much he cares for you and your feelings. You don't exactly get that same impression when he's scolding you for not sitting straight or not wearing your uniform properly... regardless, you're very thankful for his words, even the harsher ones about needing to tell someone about things like this. "Tell me, if you must. I will always listen." After the incident, nothing much changes, really. Atleast from the perspective of others. He still gets on your case for not wearing your uniform properly, but he also asks about how you're doing when he gets the chance and does not accept simply "fine" or "okay" for an answer. You simply must elaborate why that is.

KALIM enters big brother mode. He's comforted crying siblings for various reasons before so what makes you any different? He gives you a tight hug, gently rubbing your back and trying to cheer you up with comforting phrases. He'd also try making jokes you to cheer you up and the puns are so bad you might as well start laughing. He didn't even start asking what's wrong but instead waited for you to tell him yourself. He surprised you with how mature (or perhaps just experienced) he is when it comes to crying people. You feel much better even only after a few minutes and you ask Kalim how you can thank him for hearing you out. "Seeing you smile again is reward enough!" He replies and you feel like crying again (but this time not from sadness or stress). After that incident, he always personally invites you to Scarabia parties, hoping they might inject a little joy in your life and keep your mind off things. If you're not a fan of parties, he takes you on carpet rides around the dorm instead.

MALLEUS is shocked into silence. You were smiling at him as sweetly as you always do just a moment ago... He knows how to comfort someone in theory, but now that he has to put it into practice, it feels like he's forgotten everything. He needs to show you that you can rely on him when it comes to your comfort, and that includes crying around him. This might just be one of the most heartbreaking sights he's ever had the displeasure of witnessing. He vows to himself that he never wishes to see you cry again (unless it's at your wedding) and would do anything to prevent it. He wordlessly pulls you into a secure hug, worried that if he does anything else, you might start crying even more. You hug him back and just sob in his arms, thankful for his warm embrace. "It will all be okay, child of man. I'm here, after all." And somehow, you can't help but trust those words with every fiber of your being. After the incident, Malleus ends up confessing what happened to Lilia and Lilia goes into one of those "Oh, how my baby has grown..." rants. But he also does say that Malleus should start inviting you to new places to keep your mind off things and help you let loose. So he does just that, with an added sprinkle of gargoyle-hunting and gargoyle facts. You're now very well educated about gargoyles lol.

[rosewine-5]

Baby Come Over

Wolverine/Logan Howlett x black fem reader

gif made by blursbian

Summary: Wade is hellbent of getting you to meet his new roommate, but what is his motive? (Note: I am not the best writer, but I had motivation, and the title is definitely not taken from Virgo’s Groove)

Warning: drunken asshole, Wade Wilson, cursing, unprotected piv smut (wrap it before you tap it) fingering, riding, soft!dom Logan MDNI 18+

Word Count: 4.2

-

Wade encouraged you to meet the new man in his life, not knowing if it was a new friend, a boyfriend, or someone he wanted to pursue romantically. Knowing him, it was probably both, but you agreed anyway. "Come on, sugar. I'm a vigilante, you're a fine-as-wine vigilante, and he's an old but good-looking mutant who needs some TLC— he'll love you immediately," Wade insisted, bringing it up again as you two talked over a late dinner while sitting on his couch.

Wade, I have to work all next week," you said, trying to get out of it. "Yeah, bartending is so hard. When was the last time you got laid? The pink vibrator doesn't count," he added for extra measure, almost making you slap him. "None of your business. Besides, I don't ask about your business even though we, unfortunately, share a wall. And why did you go through my drawer?!”

“My point being said, he needs friends, you need a new one, and if you won’t be with him I will! And besides, I'm Marvel Jesus, there's nothing I can’t do!” Wade insisted, emphasizing his statement with his hands and ignoring your question.

You knew better than to argue with him because he could go on for hours, so you agreed. You had pulled your braids into a ponytail and walked next door, where you saw the small get-together Wade had arranged. “Sweetie! You made it!” he cheered, answering the door, and dragging you in. He put you in front of him as he walked you to the back of the apartment, where Logan wasn’t facing you.

“He’s a bit grumpy today, but I’ll talk to him. Hey, three-pronged wolf!” Wade said, trying to get his attention.

He got it all right.

Before you could even introduce yourself you felt something pierce your arm, three things. You were met with the face of a man who looked like he was ready to knock someone out, it was Logan. His face quickly changed when he realized he hadn’t stabbed Wade, and immediately tried to cover the wound he made. “Ah, shit!” He cursed, looking you in the eyes.

“Now this is not how we greet potential lovers, gramps! Shame on you.” Wade scolded playfully, looking between you and Logan. “Well that’s a good icebreaker, or skin breaker I should say.” He said, looking at your already healing skin.

“Well, Logan, this is my best friend, she heals like us, curses like me. Sugar, this is Logan, the old good-looking man you should kiss for helping save the timeline. Do not fuck on my bed, and I don’t babysit.” He said, patting your cheek before walking away. You watched him leave and then leaned on the wall.

“Hell of an introduction, neighbor,” You said, trying to start a conversation. He didn’t respond but kept looking over your features as you did the same. Wade hit one thing on the mark: He was fine as hell. “How long have you known him?” Logan asked. “Ehhh, a couple of months, he’s good people, but he can be annoying as fuck some.” You said, that you two agreed.

It turns out that you both had something in common, besides the healing factor. Both of you were no strangers to drinks, and pain was a familiar feeling for both of you.

And that was how the foundation of the friendship was built. You didn’t talk much, mostly just passing each other in the hallway, a short greeting when you left for work and coming back home. That was until he found the bar you worked in. It was 5 minutes before closing, and you heard the man sit down. “What’ll it be buddy?” You asked, still wiping down the table with your back towards him.

“Whatever’s left.” Logan’s voice said, cutting through the faint sound of Sade’s voice coming through the jukebox. Your head snapped around at the familiar tone of the voice. “Wade mentioned you worked in a bar, been wondering which one it was,” Logan said, sitting down at the bar. “You didn’t think to look at the closest bar which is only a 15-minute walk from here?” You asked, leaning on the bar, a laugh leaving your lips.

He reached over, grabbed a bottle of beer, and shrugged, “Good point.” He said while taking a drink, a long one. “Let me guess. Roommate annoyance?” You asked, seeing him set down the bottle, and bringing him another one. “Yep. He made me leave the place today.” Logan explained. “Any reason for him kicking you out?” You joked, meeting his ever-so-serious eyes.

“He said either I try and make friends, or he walks around naked until I leave.” He said, almost making you cringe, “No one wants to see that.” Logan let out a short hum, before downing the beer before putting it down. As

You reached for the bottle your hand brushed his, and your eyes met in an awkward look. “Sorry-.” “My bad.” You both said at the same time. Logan then held your hand, moving it completely taking it off the bottle, and set it down behind the bar for you with his other hand.

“There. Less confusion.” He said, sitting back down. You nodded and looked at your still joined hands, noticing how his completely covered yours. You allowed yourself one more look before slowly sliding it out of his hands. As you finished cleaning up and locking up the bar, Logan stayed. As you walked back to the apartments, he walked beside you, in total silence, and both of you did.

That’s how it continued for almost a whopping 2 months. He’d show up for the last call, talk until closing, and walk you home in silence.

Until one night Logan walked in 1 hour earlier than his normal time. “You’re here early.” You pointed out, looking at the clock above the door. “Well, Wade mentioned something about you hating thunderstorms, thought you might want a familiar face around.” You never froze so fast in your life. “Oh? He told you that?” You asked, passing him a beer, Logan nodding in response.

“What if I told you he lied?” You asked, seeing him stop mid-drink to look at you, eyes with confusion. “I’m gonna strangle him,” Logan said. “He’d probably like it,” then you thought for a moment, “No, he’d love that.” He dropped the beer just in time for you to see a chuckle leave his lips with the taste of a smile, and your heart jumped. You already found him attractive, but that smile could’ve made an entire country swoon and sigh.

You looked away just in time for him to not catch you staring. “So, what do you do other than work?” Logan asked. “Vigilantism.” You replied, holding up another beer, switching up his empty bottle for a new cold one. “What did you do in your universe?” You asked. “Was a part of a team, had a suit and everything,” Logan explained. “Did they have abilities like you?” You asked, cleaning up some glasses while he talked. “Better. Way better than these claws in my skin.” He said, looking down at the counter harder than he should've.

You heard a little bit of how he was “the worst Wolverine” from Wade, and given how he was acting right now, he might have told the truth. “You remind me of one of them too. You don't look like her, but your mannerism reminds me of her.” Logan added. You took a chance and put a hand over his, “I won't pry, but if you ever want to talk, let me know.” He looked up at you with a greatful gaze, nodding his head and letting his hand hold yours.

You then looked at the clock and took your hand away from his “Closing time. Imma lock up real quick.” You said, wiping down the tables. As you were about to lock up, one man stumbled in. “We’re closed man. Go home.” You yelled. “One beer, sweetheart, it’s all I ask.” The random drunk asked, now grabbing onto your sleeve. “Were closed. Let go.” You said in a harsher tone. Trying to get your sleeve free.

“Come on sugar, just one drink.” He asked, eyes looking you up and down. “Dude. Let go!” You yelled, now trying to get his hand off you, but he had a strong grip on your wrist. Before he could respond Logan grabbed his arm, freeing you and walking him out. “Hey man what are you-.” Before he could finish Logan put his claws under the man’s neck. “The lady asked you 3 times to leave. I’m giving you 3 seconds to bounce before these find a home in your neck.”

The man stumbled back before slipping out the door. “You alright?” He asked, looking at your torn sleeve. “I’m alright.” You sighed, putting your jacket on. He walked next to you that night, almost arm and arm with you while you both made small talk. “I could’ve handled that asshole you know?” You asked him, bringing up the drunken man again. “I know, just wanted to do it.” He said, lighting a cigar, smirking, making you chuckle. “There she is.” He said, looking down at you. “What there? You asked, now across the street from the apartment. “That smile.” He said, still smoking the cigar.

As you opened the door to the building, you missed the faint blush on his cheeks. But you didn’t miss that look in his eyes and the way he looked over your body. But as he tried to open the door to his shared apartment, it was locked. “Are you fucking serious?” Logan said, now banging on the door. “Wade! Open the door!” he yelled.

Wade locked me out, and he’s not waking up.” He said, looking over at you. “I’ll try and call him.” You said, pulling out your phone and trying to call him, only for it to go straight to voicemail. “This son of a bitch.” you sighed, and put your phone away. You could tell what Logan was about to ask, so you beat him to it.

“I got a couch,” you said, unlocking your door. “I don't want to-.” “Logan, come over,” you interrupted, moving. so he could get in. You could tell he wanted to protest, but he knew he didn’t have a choice or another place to sleep. He gave the space a once-over and nodded. “Nice place,” Logan said.“I'm gonna take a quick shower, and I’ll be right out,” You said, he nodded in acknowledgment.

You turned on your heel, went down the hallway, and hopped in the bathroom. After 15 minutes you put on an oversized shirt and sleep short and walked to your close. You grabbed an extra pillow and top sheet for him.

“Here I got-.” Before you could finish you saw Logan with his shirt off looking you up and down. It was then you remembered you had gotten out of the shower, only wearing an oversized shirt and your shorts, that barely covered your thighs.

You saw his eyes staring at your legs, and then back up at you. His eyes were hungry with desire, and it was safe to say yours were too. His and was clenching and unclenching by his side. “Honey,” he breathed, “go to bed before I make a mistake.” You didn’t move, you didn’t dare. You moved closer, setting the blanket and pillow on the couch, your eyes never leaving his. “Please, walk away,” Logan said, licking his lips. “Why? When we both want the same thing?” You asked.

You swear you saw his breathing stop.

That was all he needed. He surged forward, claiming your lips with his. You could still taste the beer on his lips. His hand found your waist and then your thighs, lifting you, and groaned, looking up at you with a wolfish grin. Before he could say anything, you kissed him, your nails running through his hair as your tongue fought for control against his. His hands mapped out your skin, going over every contour and gripping your ass as he rolled his hips into yours.

A shiver ran through your veins, your thin shorts doing little to hide how much you wanted him, and he knew it. “Already? We’ve barely even started and you’re soaked?” He teased, one of his hands leaving your hips and dipping under the fabric. His fingers ran over your folds, his lips forming into a smirk as he sucked another mark into your neck. A soft moan left your lips as you felt two of his fingers dip into your cunt, “Oh fuck.”

“That’s it, honey, let me hear you,” Logan whispered. You let out a loud moan when his fingers hit your G-spot, your nails digging into his skin, emitting a groan from his lips. “Sorry.” You whispered, looking at him, only to see a feral smile on his lips. “You have no idea how much I loved that.” Logan groaned, his fingers working another finger in, making you bite down on his shoulder to muffle your moans.

“I wish you would.” He grunted, grabbed a handful of your braids, and pulled your head back, assaulting your neck with bites and kisses. “Logan!” You squealed, feeling his thumb find your clit. “Cum for me baby, let me hear it,” Logan whispered. Your hands made crescent marks on his back as you came undone, feeling his lips soothe you down from your climax.

You felt his fingers slowly come to a halt before Logan pulled his fingers out of you, his other hand letting go of your braids. “Still there, honey?” He asked, peppering kisses across your neck. You couldn’t even speak, your brain was still fogged from the orgasm you just went through. “Holy shit,” You breathed out. You finally cracked your eyes open, meeting Logan’s hungry eyes and seeing his fingers disappear in his mouth.

His tongue swirled around his digits, his eyes trained on yours. “Taste like heaven.” He said, licking his lips before claiming your lips in another kiss. You snapped out of the trance you were in as the taste of your juices hit your tongue.

You need him. You needed him now.

Your hand went to his pants, slipping under his jeans and finding his cock. He was rock-hard. He shuddered under your touch, a deep moan leaving his lips. Logan helped you get his jeans on the floor, his cock springing free and hitting his chest. “Goddamn. Someone’s blessed.” You whispered. “Is that someone you?” Logan asked, his hands slipping under the waistband of your underwear.

“Hold still for me baby,” he sighed and your arms framed his shoulders. You heard his claws come out and slice your bottoms off. “Someone’s done that before.” You teased, watching as his hand threw the fabric on the floor. Logan didn’t respond as he started to pick you up, but you held him firmly on the couch. “Nope, stay right there.” You breathed you, stroking his cock a few times.

He watched your hand pump him before positioning yourself above him. Logan’s eyes were trained on your pussy as you eased onto him. As you finally bottomed out, Logan let out a loud moan, and it almost made you cum on the spot. “Goddamn, you trying to kill me?” He asked, his hands going back to your hips. You didn’t respond as you started to move up and down, riding his cock.

Logan did little to stop the moans that were leaving his lips. “Fuck, honey. You’re squeezing me like a goddamn vice,” Logan sighed, letting you set the pace. You kissed his neck and sucked marks into his neck, not giving a damn that they wouldn’t be there tomorrow. As you bit one spot closer to his collarbone, he let out a whine. You focused on that spot and bounced on his cock a little faster.

He suddenly gripped your hips as a broken moan left his lips, “Fuck, wait.” He sighed, holding you still on his cock. “Why’d you make me stop?” You asked, looking at his screwed-shut eyes. Logan suddenly grabbed you and picked you up, still keeping you on his cock. “Which one is your room?” He asked. “Down the hall to the left,” You said. Logan walked down the hallway and you thanked god you left the door open.

He laid you and climbed over you, kneeling on the bed and pulling you closer, his cock moving between your thighs to rest on top of your belly button. You leaned up and rested on your forearms, and looked back down at his cock. “To answer your question from earlier,” Logan said, leaning down and tilting your chin up to look at him, “I stopped you because there’s more room on a bed than a couch.”

He looked down at you and licked his lips before catching your lips in a passionate kiss. Your hand cupped his cheek as you returned it, your tongue finding its way into his mouth.

You were so caught up in his kisses you didn’t register the head of his cock tapping your clit until you felt it slam into you, a scream falling out of your lips. Logan laid you back in your sheets and let his hand that wasn’t holding your thigh trail in between your chest and down your stomach as he fucked you. “Keep those eyes open for me, ya hear?” He asked, you nodding in response.

He didn’t waste a second after. Logan’s cock began to thrust in and out of you, sliding almost all the way out of you to only slam back in, emitting a moan from you every time. You writhed under him, looking up at his wild and feral expression. His mouth was open, looking down at your fucked out one, moaning loudly as you held the pillow behind you.

You could hear the sound of your headboard hitting the wall, the grunts coming out of his mouth, and you didn’t give a damn if anyone heard. All you cared about was the amount of pleasure he was giving you. As he hit that one spot that cut your breath off, you bit the pillow and screwed your eyes shut.

Immediately you felt Logan stop and he grabbed your wrist with one hand and pinned it beside your head, his own hovering over yours. “I said eyes open, darling. And don’t even think of hiding those pretty fucking moans from me.” He whispered. He then dropped his hand from your thigh and put it over his.

He now used one hand to wipe the sweat off your forehead, “You still here honey?” He asked, you nodded in response and opened your eyes. Logan was grinning down at you, taking in your tired face, “There’s my girl.” He softly kisses your lips before picking up his bruising pace, making you scream again, “Logan!” Your nails found their way to his back, making marks on his skin. “That’s right honey, let everyone on this goddamn floor who’s fucking you,” Logan grunted, using his free hand to hold your hip, his fingers digging into your skin.

The bed was creaking more as his thrust picked up, one of his hands starting to play with your clit. You instinctively let out a high-pitched whine and you swore he growled for a moment. “Logan, I’m gonna-, oh fuck!” You moaned, your hips bucking into his as you writhed your bed. “Yeah that’s it, let me see you come.” Logan cooed, His hand working your clit faster.

It didn’t take long for a long moan to erupt out of your mouth, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. Your walls squeezed him like a vice as his free thumb caressed your chin. “Now that’s a sight I need to see more of.” Logan moaned with a smile on his face. You felt his hips pick up the pace and his moans getting louder as he was on the verge of his orgasm, both of his hands now holding your legs open.

“Tell me where honey,” Logan asked, looking down at you. Your legs only pulled him closer, and that was all the confirmation he needed. A sinful whimper left his lips as he spilled into you, his eyes screwing shut. Logan held himself up and let the waves of the orgasm wear off before he moved, flopping down in your bed next to you. “Goddamn.” He sighed, catching his breath.

You nodded, looking up at the ceiling. “For a 200-plus-year-old, you fuck like you’re 30.” You said, looking over at him only to meet his gaze, “I don’t hear you complaining.” Logan teased, pulling a chuckle from you. “After the two orgasms you gave me, I’d be a goddamn fool too.” You said with a laugh. A yawn soon came from your mouth as you turned on your side, “Wore you out that much?” Logan asked, leaning over and looking down at you with an amused smirk on his face.

“Yeah, and I’m, once again, not complaining,” you said, feeling yourself drifting off to sleep. That night was one of the best you ever had, followed by one of the best mornings. You awoke to the sound of someone breathing in your ear and an arm around your waist.

Logan slept in your bed last night, and you slept in his arms. As looked down, his hand was rubbing your hip through the sheets. “You’re awake?” You asked, turning around and meeting his eyes, “I’ve been up for a while.” You felt his thumb caress your cheek, a tender touch matching the emotion in his eyes. “I know this is probably a stupid to ask, given the circumstances, but would you like to grab a drink with me? Ya know, outside of work,” Logan asked.

You only leaned up and kissed his lips before pulling back and looking at him, “I’d love to.” Logan broke out into a grin that could rival the sun and returned the kiss. After a quick shower and getting dressed, you were about to make breakfast when a loud knock hit your door. “Who is it?” Logan asked, coming out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. You couldn't stop your eyes from wandering down his chest, but you refocused, “I don't know, I didn't answer it.

The person knocked harder a second time, almost startling you. Logan walked forward and opened the door, only to find no one there. You peeped out the hallway, saw Wade’s door open, and heard music coming from it. “I think I know who it was.” You recognized the song coming from inside too: Sexual Healing. As you walked in, Wade was singing along before he saw you walk in and popped a confetti cannon.

“Congratulations!” he yelled, and Blind Al popped hers as well. “I guess Christmas came early because I know you did last night,” Wade then looked over your shoulder, and nodded, “Both of you did.” Logan was standing behind you and closed the door, only in the towel. “What the hell is all of this?” Logan asked. “A small celebration for you finally getting laid. All part of my plan last night.” Wade explained. Logan immediately walked past you, “What the hell does that mean?”

“Well come on man, I knew it was bound to happen when you took more than 15 minutes to get back, you think I locked you out by accident?” Wade grinned, and it all clicked. “You knew I would let him crash?” You asked, seeing the shit-eating grin grow on his face. “Oh I knew you would let him do more than that, sugar, besides that's what you both fucked on wasn't it?”

You and Logan shared a look, confused about how we knew. “First of all, neither of you tried to be quiet, at all, especially you Donna Summer,” Wade said, pointing at you. “Two, I could hear the headboard hitting the wall thanks to tall strong big dick vintage-rine over here,” he continued. “And three, someone with claws made a little hole in the wall, and trust me, I heard it all.”

Logan’s mouth was open while you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. Wade then went to the fridge and pulled out a cake and got candles. “Happy first fuckiversary, my friends,” Wade said, putting the candle in the middle, above a gel doodle of two stick figures. One of them had boobs and was on her back with her legs in the air while the other with claws was in front of her. “Made this little doodle last night,” Wade said as he lit the candle, “go ahead, blow it, you’ll be doing a lot of that later.”

You didn't miss the wink he gave Logan as you blew out the candle. You took the cake and looked at Wade. “Thanks for the cake,” You said, hugging him, “and thanks for locking the door.” You took the cake and then left, Logan shutting the door behind him as you both went back to your apartment. “He’s never gonna let that go is he?” Logan asked, you shaking your head in response. “Nope, now go back over there and get dressed.”

He had a quick, confused look on his face. "Why?" you explained, throwing him his pants and shirt. "You made a damn hole in my wall, you're helping me fix it." "Yes, ma'am," he chuckled, walking back over to his and Wade's apartment.

You never thought you would see the day you would thank Wade for bringing you a man, but I guess Marvel Jesus works in mysterious ways.

[put-me-through-the-wall]

Girl Next Door- Pt. 2

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader

Word count: 3k

Summary: Simon finally accept your offer for dinner. Did you mention you can cook?

A/N: I was a little slow on this but the idea of them getting close was stressing me out, okay? Also my MIL was in town and I couldn't get in the groove. All the support so far is amazing, thank you guys so much! If y'all like it there will be more to come. Warning: still slow burning

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Part I

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Simon sits across from you at your tiny dining table pressed against the wall of your cramped kitchen. You managed to lure him in with a fairly nice bottle of unopened scotch you found in the back of your cabinet that had potentially fallen into one of your own boxes when moving from your ex's house. 

He looks around your quaint little one bedroom apartment. It was a lot different than his own. The literal layout was the same. No extra rooms or walls but you’d done something different in here. The whole space had a cozy feeling to it. Every surface was decorated with useless gadgets and trinkets that he didn't understand the purpose of. Lots of blankets, pillows, soft things. You had music quietly playing through your TV speakers in the living room. A few lamps fill the dim room creating a subtle yellow glow that hits the high points of your face, softening your tired features.

"Do you think there's something wrong with me?" you suddenly blurt out.

"S'cuse me?" Simon asks, caught off guard by the question.

"Lately I've been feeling like there's something inside of me that attracts horrible guys. Like, is there a beacon coming out my head that says 'hey, come over here. I'm vulnerable and easy'."

Simon pauses, unsure how to respond. He watches your face closely. You're sad eyes looking to him for an answer he doesn't have. "I think you're...nice," but he has a feeling that's not what you wanted to hear.

"nice?" You let out a humorless laugh. "Maybe that's the problem. Nice must translate to doormat," You sigh and drop your head into your hands. 

Simon takes a sip of his drink. He's growing concerned this is entering too friendly territory. Then you pop your head back up.

"So, how much did you hear?"

"Not much"

"Yeah right," You toss him a coy smile. “Can I tell you what happened?”

“Sure,”

“Alright, so” you take a sip of your own drink and a deep breath before recounting your story. "I met him at work. He was really nice and offered to pick me up a coffee on his way in one day. I haven’t made any friends at work yet so it was nice just to chat over a coffee. Then we started having lunch together. Nothing serious just in the break room but it felt good to hear about something other than notes from my editor. I wasn’t looking for anything serious, I mean I moved here to focus on myself not continue dating more crappy guys. So of course he started texting me and he was really sweet. He complimented my outfits and thought all my jokes were hilarious apparently. I really wasn’t trying to get involved with this guy though. He said something about hearing I can cook and of course I said I do. It’s part of my job, duh. He’s giving my shit about it so I invited him over for dinner. I made this creamy potato gnocchi with Italian sausage that I got from that great butcher on the corner. I even hand rolled the gnocchi. I mean, who wouldn't kill for an authentic Italian meal?"

"He's sounds like some guy"

"Not really, I was testing out a new recipe for the column so, two birds one stone. Anyways, he comes up and we have some wine and listen to some music. It was going really well so far. Then I go to bring out a nice charcuterie board for an appetizer while the pasta finishes baking. While I'm bringing it to him I can see he's on his phone, texting someone and literally giggling. I walk up behind him and he is sexting. On my couch!" you throw you hands up incredulously. "Well, I thought he was. He’s looking at a picture of some girl bent over then I realize it’s me. He took a picture of my ass, while I was making him dinner. I couldn't fucking believe it. What kind of a scumbag does that to a woman preparing a fucking meal for him? Now, this is not something I'm proud of so let the record show this is very out of character for me but these were extraordinary circumstances. So, I dropped the fig chutney on his head. Right in his stupid quaffed hair. He jumps up and he's all mad and starts yelling and I'm yelling back. He calls me a crazy bitch then I call him a perv. After that he left." you conclude with a shrug.

"Wow" Simon responds, truly taken aback by the series of events. 

"Yeah, then you know the rest from there. I don't know what came over me. I guess after my last breakup I haven't felt very good about myself and this guy made me feel, I don't know- fun? That feels silly to say. I should’ve known better from a guy that works the celebrity gossip section. I probably looked like a big baby out there, how dramatic. I'm sorry about that, again."

"You don't need to apologize."

"After I moved here I thought things would be different. I thought guys in the city were classier I guess. Turns out all guys are the same. Just take what they want and go. Do you want another drink?" You point to his now empty glass. 

"Sure." You snag his cup and stand. He watches you walk over to the counter in your silky slip dress. The sleek fabric clings to your waist. Flaring around your hips and down your thighs. The warm light reflects on the shiny material, shifting with each step you take. It tightens perfectly about your waist and cinched with a neat little bow in the back. He wonders why you would wear a dress like that for this guy.

"So, do you date?" you question in a seemingly casual tone.

"No" 

"Yeah right," you laugh and look over your shoulder to see his stoney expression and your smile fades. "Oh, sorry, I just- I find that hard to believe."

"Why is that?" He tilts his head and you focus back on filling his glass. 

"It's just, you're a good looking guy. I would think you'd get plenty of female attention," You pivot back around and place the glass before him. You lean on the table with one hand and prop the other on your waist. 

"'M not interested," his gaze stays fixed on the brown liquid, grabbing it and taking another sip. He doesn't miss the way you deflated the slightest bit. 

"Maybe I should take a page out of your book, as in maybe swearing off men completely" The oven timer dings. "Oh! pasta!" You jump over and grab your oven mitts. You drop the oven door and slide out the sizzling dish. An aroma of cheese and basil fills the air. Your stomach audibly growls.

You pull down two plates from your cabinet. You serve up the steaming pasta, sprinkling parmesan and fresh chopped herbs for garnish. You proudly carry over the two dishes and place them carefully on the table. You place your hands on your hips while gazing down at the platter.

"This looks...great." Simon is truly taken aback by the incredible looking dish. 

"Wait, don't eat yet. Let me get a picture." You scamper into your living room, grabbing your phone off the coffee table and scurrying back. You hold your phone high above for a birds eye view. Simon scoots his chair back to avoid the gaze of the lens. The camera clicks with a flash. You examine the photo, seeming satisfied with the quality and finally taking a seat in your own chair. "It was okay if you were in the picture. I don't mind." 

"I do," he says simply. 

To anyone else, Simon comes off as rude or callous but you, you never seem to let his shortness affect you. You take his words and just keep going. You don't mind his lack of conversation. It seems you are totally satisfied with having someone there to listen. He was starting to think he didn't mind listening so much. 

"Oh," You shift uncomfortably in your chair. "Sorry then. Well, let me know what you think. Try to be detailed with your feelings about it if you can. You're my guinea pig and be honest. I don't want to put this out when it's garbage."

He proceeds to take a forkful in his mouth. He cannot control the groan that escapes his throat as the bold flavor hits his tongue. This is far cry from his usual take away food. He can't remember the last time he had a home cooked meal now that he thinks about it. 

"This is quite good." He grumbled between bites. Not caring to finish chewing before he's stabbing at the pasta on the plate once again. 

"Really? You don't need to be nice to spare my feelings. I don't mind criticism."

He shoves more in his mouth. "I’m serious"

"Thank you" You giggle watching him scarf down the still steaming hot meal. 

The two of you finish your respective plates without much more conversation to be had. On your last few bites you meet Simon's eyes as he reclines back in the creaky wooden chair, hands laying across his stomach. His head tips back with a satisfied grumble making a proud smile play across your lips. This may be the first time you've seen him express a true human emotion in your presence. 

"There's more if you want?"

"No, I'm stuffed." 

If you know one thing as a part time chef, food is the way to a man's heart. You knew if Simon tasted what you could make his ice exterior would melt away. You stand up and walk to the fridge. 

"Too stuffed for dessert?" you pull out a glass bowl filled with layers of custard, strawberries, cake, and whipped cream. "I made a traditional English trifle. Y'know for the holidays coming up and who doesn't love custard?" you shrug while carrying the bowl over to the table. You hurry back to the kitchen to grab two saucers and plate up the dessert.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you're trying to butter me up." he comments, intently watching as you carefully slice through the layers. "What do you know about English food?" 

"Not much, which is why this is a special occasion. I can get some insight from a genuine Englishman," you slide the saucer to him. "Everything happens for a reason, I guess you were meant to be here tonight" you don’t realize how weird that comment is until it's already left your mouth. You suppress the feeling and internally cringe. You take a seat with your own plate and try a bite. "Hey, that's not too bad. I think Gordon Ramsey would be proud"

Simon actually chuckles when you compliment yourself making you giggle in return. This whole night is very different than you expected. Not that you were complaining.

Your leg bumps his underneath the narrow table. Your bare foot brushing up the edge of his pant leg for the briefest moment. A deep blush rises to your cheeks the second you realize it's his leg instead of the table's. 

"Oh, sorry!" you quickly draw your legs underneath your chair. Simon pauses his eating and meets your gaze. 

"S'alright," he slowly slides his long leg across the distance and nudges the shin of your tucked legs with the toe of his boot. "You scared?"

"What?" you allow your legs to relax, your calves sitting on either side of his outstretched leg. It felt natural, almost domestic. "You don't scare me." you're lying paired with an anxious laugh.

"No?" As he says this his foot shifts underneath the supports of your chair and yanks it forward causing your chair to skid a few inches across the tile, pressing you further into the table as you let you a surprised yelp. Hands brace against the edge of the table. Simon maintains his calm composure. "Are you sure?" he takes another bite of the fluffy dessert. 

You weren't sure if it was the liquor going to your head or the rush of adrenaline but you felt bold. You rest your cheek on your propped up hand, offering the most innocent eyes you can muster, as you delicately slide your foot along the smooth leather of his boot. Simon swallows and gently places his fork back on the table.

"What do you think of it?" you question in a hushed tone. your foot travels further up his ankle, dipping under his pant leg to feel his hot skin underneath. 

"It's sweet," He states simply but his words roll off his tongue smooth as butter. 

"Not too sweet?" You tilt your head the slightest bit.

"Hm," he hums in contemplation. Your eyes drift down to watch his hands grasp his drink. He grips the glass in his large palm. The rolled sleeves of his long sleeve reveal the muscles in his arm shifting when he raises the glass to his mouth. For the first time you notice a faint raised scar cutting through the outer corner of his lip and stopping just shy of the edge of his nose. He takes a long swig of the brown liquid, not quite finishing the drink. As he pulls back his lips glisten in the warm light. "Not bad when it's paired with a stiff drink," his tongue is quick to swipe across, collecting the residue. 

"I'll be sure to make a note of that." you smile sweetly. "Can I get you another drink?" You look down at the last sip coating the bottom of the glass. You make sure to flutter your lashes when you look back up at him. 

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" A smirk raises the corner of his mouth.

"No," you laugh. "Why, do you want me to?" 

He releases a deep gravelly laugh that makes your stomach stir. Then he glances at his watch and your stomach drops. 

"I need to get going." He mumbles. He pulls his leg away from yours and rises out of his chair. 

"Wait," you rush to stand, almost knocking your seat over in the process. "Can I- uh- get you a bit of pasta to go? There’s plenty left" Trying to think of any excuse to keep him here a moment longer. 

"S'okay, save it. Maybe I'll come by another time." He turns and steps out of your kitchen and into the hallway leading to your front door in only a few wide strides. 

"Are you sure?" You don't intend for your voice to come out as needy as it does. You follow on his heels like a lost puppy.

"I've got an early morning." Before he reaches the door he turns, seemingly surprised by how close you are to him. He looks down at your big round eyes. 

"Okay," you smile trying not to look defeated. "Well, you're welcome over anytime. I mean it, just knock and I'll probably be home. I'm gonna try writing at home more. Try to avoid that guy." You let out a halfhearted chuckle. "Maybe, you should get my number. Y'know, in case you want to check if I'm home."

"I'm alright, I'll just knock" His hand finds the doorknob. "Thanks for dinner, it was nice" Then he turns to go. Closing the door politely behind him. 

You rush to the peephole, watching his distorted figure step out of sight followed by the sound of his own door shutting. You rest your hot forehead against the cool wood grain of your door. 

You step back in the kitchen and begin putting away the leftovers. Piling the pasta into tupperware, rinsing the plates, collecting silverware. His glass remains in place with a sliver of scotch leftover. You hold the glass up in the light and see a faint smudge on its rim. You twist the cup around so your own mouth lines up with the imprint he left. You swallow the last bit slowly, savoring the way the sharp burn eases into a smooth, smoky aftertaste. You never liked scotch, but now you are starting to understand the meaning of an acquired taste.

The low atmospheric music is abruptly interrupted by an ad loudly cutting through the calm space. You rush into the living room to find the remote, hiding among the cushions and various throw pillows. Growing frustrated you end up walking over and manually hitting the power button. The silence that replaces it isn’t much better though. You step back and let your weak legs carry you until you collapse onto the comfort of your couch. The wine followed by the glass of scotch you polished off makes your head feel light but your limbs so heavy. You turn from your back to your side, realizing the used glass is still clutched in your hand. 

You reach across the gap and set it down on the coffee table with a thud. Your hand retreats back to rest under your head. You stare at it, taking in all the imperfections left on its reflective surface. Your eyes trace the rim once again looking for the smudge. On the corner you see the shadow of an impression peeking out underneath the red lipstick mark you have smeared over it. 

𝜗𝜚

Across the wall Simon falls back on his own couch. He looks around his dull apartment wondering what you have done differently to make your place look so welcoming. He never minded the minimal decorations he had. A photo frame with his team that his buddy gifted him and a couple of books always seemed like enough. After comparison though it just feels empty. 

He can hear you stomp across your floor. Footstep rushing from the kitchen until you're straight ahead. The sound of your TV turning off bathes the room in sudden silence. Only thing he can hear now is the rushing of his air conditioning unit. He considered your music annoying but now he couldn’t deny the way it added an unconscious energy to the small unit. Now sitting here, the cool tone of the overhead kitchen light illuminating into the living room he feels as though something is missing. Maybe a nice lamp would help. 

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

@azkza @neurolept @contractedcriteria @hidden-treasures21 @sprokat @stark-red19

[red-riding-wood]

I Want You to Want Me

Pairing: Neil Lewis x F!Reader

Fandom: Watching the Detectives

Summary: Neil receives a frantic call and finds you outside of Gumshoe after a date night gone wrong. Secretly habouring feelings for you ever since the two of you met, he finds you oddly irresistable in your tears and torn fishnets.

Warnings: SMUT, mutual pining, dub-con touching, dryhumping, riding, foreplay, teasing, begging (m), masturbation (m), clothed sex (semi), Neil being a wet paper towel, so just Neil being Neil, pervy Neil, switch!Neil, slight dom but mostly sub!Neil because c'mon guys it's NEIL, slight dom!reader, body worship, public sex (technically?), premature ejaculation (sort of?), angst, some fluff? by my standards anyway lol so take that with a grain of salt -- this ended up being more wholesome than I thought it would be

Inspired by this cover of I Want You To Want Me (the reader's song) and Creep (Neil's song) by Radiohead.

Huge thanks to @your-nanas-house for getting me started with a prompt for this and cheering me on!

Totally nicked the "jock boyfriend" inspo from @cillianmesoftlyyy's fic here; go check that out if you want more spicy Neil content, because it was fantastic!

And thank you and also fuck you to @rysko for dramatically beta reading this in my ear WHILE I WAS TRYING TO MAKE THE HEADER

And now that I'm done thanking every fic writer on tumblr, my parents, the Royal Society for the Prevention of Birds, and Saturn and all of its rings, enjoy your filth!

WC: 4239

He found you outside the back door of Gumshoe, huddled against the concrete step, the cool air of the spring night nipping at the wet tears that streaked your cheeks, the slight breeze stirring a shiver from one fretful limb to the next. The whites of your eyes burned red beneath the faint glow of the lanterns atop the neighbour’s picket fence. It wasn’t exactly the most incognito place to cry your eyes out, but you didn’t have a key to Neil’s store, and it was nearly three in the morning. 

“Hey, I got your call. What’s going on?” A familiar voice broke the pitiful sounds of your sobbing, and the tension of your shoulders eased if only slightly at the mere sound. 

You tried to answer past your sobs, but found that your words came only in hiccups, in broken fragments of your splintered heart, and it didn’t take long for him to sweep an arm around your shoulders, lowering himself to sit beside you on the cold step. Instinctively, you found yourself leaning into his touch, trembling against the warmth of his body. 

Neil was never really great at these sorts of things to begin with, but it certainly didn’t help that his attention was drawn to the low-cut top where a tear streaked down the groove of your breasts, to the fishnets that you’d torn on your way out the door of your boyfriend’s, to the short skirt that rode up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the lace hem of your panties. 

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, and he tried to keep his eyes on the face you so desperately tried to hide with your trembling fingers, for you were ashamed of your unkempt appearance. You must’ve looked like a cheap whore – a mess of one, no less. You couldn’t tell what was more embarrassing: the way you were dressed, like you were begging for attention, or the way your emotions seized you so cruelly that you could scarcely breathe. 

“Hey.” His warm, careful touch landed on your wrist, and as you pulled your fingers from your lashes, they came away black with smudged mascara. “I’m here,” your friend said. “Tell me what happened.”

You could still only speak in hiccups and broken vowels.

“Shhh,” Neil soothed you, fingers running up and down your spine, sending tiny shivers through each nerve as the fabric of your shirt bunched and his skin brushed yours. “Shhh. I’m here.”

Resting your head on his shoulder, your hair spilled in sticky threads over the jacket that, judging by the slight musty scent that lingered in the weave of the corduroy, had probably missed one too many washes. But you didn’t care. You’d come to appreciate the little imperfections about him, the details of his scent that made Neil Neil. Like the waxy tinge that seemed to always cling to his fingers after a long shift of rolling back tapes. Like the silk cream and smoke of the vanilla candle you’d gifted him last week. Like the artificial scent of cheap shaving cream and the slightest hint of blood where he’d nicked himself with the razor. The musk of his sweat and skin, buried beneath all these little things that you’d come to know almost as intimately as your own.

But there was something else, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. And its unfamiliarity unnerved you.

His other hand came to rest on your knee, hot as fire in the cold of night. He thumbed at the tear in your fishnets and looked at you with bright, concerned eyes, but he used this as an excuse to touch you.

“Did he hurt you?” Neil asked. His hand stayed on your knee. In a way, it felt comforting; it grounded you enough so that, finally, after lulled by the rise and fall of his shoulder and the unique blend of his scent, you could speak.

“Is that cologne?” You wrinkled your nose and drew back to look him in the eye, your tangled hair peeling reluctantly from his corduroy jacket.

A rose blush came upon Neil’s cheeks, and he smiled nervously. He’d been sure to spritz himself with a good helping of it before he left, despite his hurried state. He needed to impress you; ever since you’d started dating that jock from across the street, he’d been trying to find more ways to steal your attention back.

“Yeah, it’s new,” he said, a little flustered, in a way that made your stomach flutter. “I wanted to ask for your opinion on what I should get, but you – well…” His voice cracked a bit as a hint of sadness crept into his tone. “… you’ve been pretty busy lately.”

“It’s awful,” you told him, laughing slightly, and your words seemed to cheer him up; his lips tugged into that playful grin of his again, and a deep chuckle rumbled from his throat.

And then you both fell into silence, and he looked back to your knee, still thumbing the skin where the fabric had torn.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Neil said.

You swallowed, another lump forming in your throat, and when you looked at him, bottom lip in your teeth, reddened eyes pouting, rimmed by your messed mascara, his heart sped in his chest in both fear and arousal. The thought of James even touching you boiled his blood, made his skin crawl and tightened a noose round his neck, but seeing you like this, baring your soul to him with those tear-brimmed eyes and mournfully upturned brows, it made him want you even more.

If he’d been the one to take you out tonight, he would’ve brought you home to his bed, worshipped each inch of your hallowed skin and made love to you like you were the only woman in the world, splayed his fingers across your thighs and parted them like a sea, dropped to his knees and prayed with the hungered strokes of his tongue and lapped at your holy waters.

He’d started reading poetry lately. It had felt right; it was the only thing that seemed to express just how he felt about you. Echoed the words in private like they were gospel; chanted your name from desperate lips as he palmed himself each night – and morning – to your photographs, to the vanilla of the candle that reminded him so much of you, to the fantasy of your sweat-slicked thighs wrapped around his waist, your walls clenched around him as he bucked his hips against your weight and finally let himself go, spilling himself inside you and hearing you moan so sweetly for him from those heavenly lips, feeling his own cum dampen his stomach as you collapsed over him. He always knew you’d be so tight, that you’d fit so perfect around him.

But sitting here, staring at your shivering, impotent form in your torn fishnets and your skimpy attire, he could barely contain the urge to tear open your knees and fuck you against the concrete. It had been so long since he’d even been this close to you; James took up all of your time nowadays, and gone were the late movie nights and stolen games of basketball on the breaks he took so liberally.

He missed you. So much.

And you knew it. You knew it, deep in your chest where the remnants of your heart twisted, still hearing the words, “You’ve been pretty busy lately.”

You shook your head, choking out another sob as shame crept along your skin, and you shivered at its grotesque touch. “No, he didn’t hurt me… not – not in that way.”

You couldn’t look at him; his pearlescent blue eyes and his sun-kissed freckles and his boyish brown locks all fading into memory as you buried your face in his chest, inhaling once more the faint scent of his laundry detergent and the musk of him beneath the shirt that was flipped inside-out but still outlined the blatant logo of Back to the Future. Whether he hadn’t realised he’d put it on backwards or he’d been shy about it, you couldn’t be sure, but it lightened your heart all the same, your sobs turning to giggles.

Neil pulled you closer, his chin resting along the nape of your neck and his hand running up your thigh; you barely noticed how near his hand was to your panties as you tugged at his shirt, nails sinking past the fabric as if to keep him and never let him go.

You regretted all that time you’d spent with James, when you should have been spending it with him instead. Everything felt so much easier with him; your smiles were broader, your laughter more carefree.

But you wanted more – selfish and lovesick, you wanted more than what he already gave you. You needed more than his attention and his friendship.

You needed him to want you.

“I thought that…” You sniffled. “… I thought that James wanted me. I dressed up all… nice… fucking whorish… and I thought tonight was finally the night and that he would’ve… that he would’ve…”

The words twisted in your throat, and you squeezed your eyes shut. Two hours ago, when you did up your makeup and clothes for your date with James, you’d felt sexy. Powerful, even.

Now, you just felt worthless.

Neil nestled his nose in the crook of your neck, brushed the silk strands of your hair aside, breathed your scent in so deeply that for a moment, the butterflies came back to the pit of your stomach.

“I just want to be wanted,” you admitted, losing it, sobbing uncontrollably into the now-damp shirt that clung to his thin frame. “I just want to be desired. That was the only reason I was with him, Neil. The way he looked at me that day when he came into the store, I…”

With a bitter pang in his chest, Neil remembered that day. The way James had looked at you like you were a piece of meat. The way he’d asked you if had any recommendations on which sports film he should rent and Neil had practically wedged himself between the two of you and started chattering to James about every little piece of trivia he knew about Chariots of Fire and Rocky. How, despite his efforts, James had still gone home with your number as well as the tapes. How you’d come in the next morning with a hickey on your neck and Neil had just known that where James had paused one of the tapes was when your movie night was likely cut short by… things he’d rather not think about ever again.

It should’ve been his couch you’d been curled up on, should’ve been him watching the movie with you. His mark on your neck.

And he would’ve picked something a little more fitting for the mood, too. Something more like Casablanca or Sin City. It was as if James didn’t even have to try to get you drooling over him. What was so special about him, anyway?

I wish I was special, Neil thought.

Neil’s grip on you tightened at the memory, nails digging in to the flesh of your thigh in a way that stirred a little gasp from your lungs, huffing against his collarbone as you tilted your head up to look at him.

“Y/N.”  His breath caught in his throat, and he reluctantly pulled from your neck to look you in the eye, locks of messy hair falling across his forehead and his eyes half-lidded. His fingers ghosted up your thigh, and you blinked past the sharp mint of his mouthwash – it burned your eyes slightly, but you didn’t care. You were so close to him, your breaths became one, a few threads of his hair tickling your cheeks and his nose brushing yours.

“Neil,” you breathed, the slightest of smiles tugging at your lip as your heart thudded between your legs, dangerously close to his fingers. Warmth spread across each fevered limb, taking you somewhere past the cold concrete and bitter chill of the wind, somewhere away from the graffiti-painted alley and the reek of broken booze bottles. Somewhere safe, and warm, and thrilling all at once.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Neil’s voice cracked around the words, a nervous laugh huffing against your fluttering lashes as his freckled cheeks darkened another shade of red. The hand that wasn’t between your legs played with a lock of your hair, twirling it in his finger but still supporting you beneath a quivering arm.

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t believe this was real.

He had to have been playing some sick joke, right?

But the whimper that fell from his lips was very real, as his nails dug into your flesh again and he tugged you closer, his hips arching upward against your outer thigh.

“You look more than nice. You’re so fucking hot in this skirt, in anything you wear. That asshole is fucking blind,” he breathed, fingers grazing your panties and landing over your hipbone, testing the waters more and more as he tried not to rock his growing arousal too obviously against you.

But you noticed. You noticed the way his cock hardened and twitched beneath your weight; you noticed how even despite his body trembling from his attempts to resist his primal urges, his hips still gave little bucks upward, seeking friction. Seeking the heat that flared between your thighs, that ached for him so desperately that it was all you could do not to return the favour.

He couldn’t take it anymore. Staring into those gorgeous, bright eyes. Looking up at him with anything but innocence. So he scooped both hands around your ass, squeezing the flesh and lace and tugging you properly onto his lap with an alluring squeal tearing from your full lips.

“I want you, Y/N.” His hot breath pooled at your collarbone as he trailed wet, sloppy kisses along your jaw, your neck, and your lips parted in another gasp, back arching and thighs clenching around his waist as you ground wet panties against the bulge in his trousers.

“I fucking need you,” he whined, nipping like a needy puppy at the delicate skin of your neck. “Always have.” Another kiss. “Ever since I first saw you. Long before James.” A possessive growl stirred from his throat at that, the flare of dominance sending a jolt through your core.

“Neil, I – oh my God.” A moan broke your words as his fingers moved up your spine and his teeth grazed your collarbone, hovering over your pulse point.

“Fuck, baby. Say that again. Just like that.” His fingers began rolling your shirt up over the lip of your breasts, the sight enough to make him whine again in need. He couldn’t help himself from groping you, squeezing your breasts and rolling one nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Bending his neck to trail more sloppy kisses down your torso, they were his next destination.

“Oh my – Neil. Neil, I – “ You had so much to tell him, so much you needed off your chest, but his hips bucked sharply against you at the sound of his name moaned so beautifully, a low groan in his throat and his cock digging slightly inside your heat, the fabric of your panties scraping almost painfully against your walls.

“Please, Y/N, please don’t make me stop. Please let me keep touching you like this. I wanna worship you.” His hot breath shattered against a pert nipple. “Wanna fucking prove to you how much I want you.”

For a few moments, you were rendered speechless, mind whirring like the wheels on a VHS. Everything was happening so fast, and the warmth of his touch was seeping into you like honey, inundating you in a sort of comforting flame.

He could almost smell the vanilla of the candle wick burning.

You left nail marks down his chest where you clawed at the collar of his shirt, but he didn’t care. He sucked a nipple past his teeth and moaned around the taste of you, the sound so filthy that your eyes nearly rolled back in your skull as your parted lips tipped to the heavens. His name outlined by their perfect shape.

Reality came crashing down around you as you jumped, another squeal leaving your tongue as his teeth bit at your nipple and pain shot along your nerve endings.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, chest heaving, looking up at you with reverent eyes. “I didn’t mean to, I – “

You cupped his chin in your palm and shook your head. “No, Neil. I’m sorry.” A tear streaked down your cheek, beaded on your jawline. “I’m so, so sorry.” You were beginning to sob again, and his brow furrowed in concern, thumb beginning to trace small circles along your spine. “I’m sorry I abandoned you for James, I didn’t… I shouldn’t have. I didn’t know you felt this way, I – I’m so sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he told you, his words sinking into your skin like a warm tide. With one hand, he brushed the tear from your jaw and wove his fingers into your hair, pulling you closer. “Just let me keep touching you. Please.”

When you didn’t respond for a moment, caught up in the way his blue eyes seemed to hollow with a certain hunger, the way his chest rose and fell beneath the bare flesh of your stomach, he uttered that word again:

“Please.”

You smiled, elated and giddy with joy, blood pounding with arousal, and kissed him, threading your own fingers into the fluffy locks of his hair.

Another tear streaked across your lips as they met his, and you tasted like salt and vanilla, slightly waxy from your chap-stick but the sweetest thing he’d tasted nonetheless. At first, he was embarrassed by the noises he made, the way he’d accidentally called you “baby” because he’d always wanted to do so, but he melted beneath you like butter. Nothing mattered anymore except the fact that you were finally his, that you were in his arms and grinding against his cock.

Neil broke the kiss to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside somewhere on the concrete – he would buy you a new one. His hands flattened against your back and pulled you flush to his chest, taking any excuse he could to hear that little squeal you made each time.

“Please, baby, please let me be inside you,” he whined, biting his lip as he stared up at you with those powder-blue eyes. Nails dug into your skin. Hips bucked against yours.

Your heart soared with his words, his worship, his want; you’d never been this ecstatic in your whole life. Part of you wanted to keep teasing him, make him beg, while another part of you ached to feel him buried to the hilt inside you.

“Patience, Neil,” you giggled, as you undid his trousers. You worked them down to his knees and your eyes widened as your hand brushed his cock, bare and springing flush against his stomach. You hadn’t expected him to not wear boxers.

Neil smiled sheepishly up at you, eyes still lidded, mouth still panting out a fevered breath. “I was in a rush getting dressed. I…” His cheeks reddened, and there was something so cute about how pathetic he looked in that moment. “You wanna know how much I want you, Y/N? I was touching myself thinking of you when you called.”

Creep, some voice in the back of his head hissed.

You bit your lip to suppress a moan, trying to ward off thoughts of Neil stroking himself to you, finishing to the thought of you. Oh, how you wished you could have witnessed the sight.

“Did you come?” you asked, a devious grin pulling at your lips as you took him in your hand, massaging a bead of pre-cum into his sensitive flesh.

His eyes fluttered, and he shook his head, his words coming out as a breathy whine,

“No, I promise. I didn’t come. Not yet.”

“Will you?” You dipped your head to let your words tickle his neck, your grip on him tightening.

“Yes,” he moaned. “Yes, yes, oh God, I will. Fuck, baby. Fuck, gonna come if you don’t stop that, need to come inside you, please, please…”

His mutterings trailed off into a low hiss of a whine, and your movements stilled, dragging him to his peak and letting him teeter at the edge as you both caught your breaths, chest heaving and a cold chill racing down your sweat-slicked back, thighs trembling around him.

“You sure you can handle this?” you purred against his ear before pulling back once more to witness the shivering mess you’d made him, priding yourself in your accomplishment. Lining his cock up with your entrance, the fabric of your panties scraped his tip teasingly as you slotted them to the side.

Neil looked up at you like you were some kind of goddess, his breathing coming laboured, his throat stripped of words. The dazed, blissful look he gave you was all the answer you needed. But you wanted to reap him of every last praise he had.

“Use your words, Neil,” you giggled, smirking.

“Ah…” His lips parted, near soundless. You watched intently as they formed the word “Please”.

You almost felt bad for him.

But it wasn’t pity that brought your hips down around him, slowly, teasingly, savouring the stretch of him against your walls and the fullness in your belly, but rather, your own need.

Neil’s head rolled back against the brick wall, blood welling at his lip where he bit it to keep himself from toppling over his peak; he nearly did it to himself when he bucked his hips upward, burying himself inside you, making you whimper at the pain that blended so sordidly with the pleasure. Your fingers tugged at his hair, and your nails grazed his scalp, and every little sensation sent him into overdrive. He used these little things to ground himself, as you had his tangled scents; he focused on how smooth your stomach felt against his own, his shirt hiking up so that you were skin to skin; he focused on the noises you made, huffing and whimpering, as you began to ride him; he focused on the softness of the breast that he cupped in his hand. Tried not to think about how you felt better than he’d imagined, how you clenched so tightly around his cock that he was almost pushed out each time you elevated your hips, but were so wet for him that he slid back inside so seamlessly each time.

“Neil,” you moaned as you fucked yourself on his cock, breast bouncing beneath his thumb, skirt fluttering around the bareness of his thighs. “Neil, fuck. Fuck.”

“Baby, I’m s—sorry. I’m gonna…”

You yelped again as pain shot deep inside your core, his hips bucking against yours with a violence you hadn’t known sweet Neil from the VHS store to possess, bottoming out inside you as his nails dug into the now-abused skin of your back and pulling you close, so close you were panting over his shoulder and his breath shattered against your ear. The hand that had been cupping your breast shot up to cradle your head, petting your hair.

He held you to him so tight, you didn’t think he’d ever let go. And you couldn’t have been happier.

Warmth spilled around his cock, sticky against your thighs, painting your insides white. You shuddered around him, balling his hair into a fist and digging your own, sharper nails, against his back.

“I didn’t mean it to be over so fast,” he mumbled into your neck. “I just… you’re so… fuck, I’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

“So have I,” you breathed. You practically hugged each other, shivering in the night air but content in each other’s warmth. “Don’t worry.” Pulling away slightly, you smiled down at him, cheeks flushing bright red. “If anything, it… it’s endearing.”

“Really?” he chuffed out a laugh.

“It…” you looked down, unable to meet that crystalline gaze. “It makes me feel wanted.” You pecked a quick kiss to his jaw, and could’ve sworn you saw love in his eyes when you pulled away.

“God, you’re perfect.” His voice broke again as his lips sought yours, and his breath hitched in his chest when the action caused you to rock your hips forward, a new sensation he’d never felt before buzzing along his skin. His mouth hung open and you laid kisses to his lips, his jaw, the Adam’s apple that bobbed along his throat. He felt his cock stiffen again inside you, already eager for Round Two.

“I should take you home,” he murmured, hands running up and down your sides. “You must be so cold.” As if just realising that he still had his jacket on, Neil shrugged it off in haste and wrapped the heavy material around your shoulders. A chill ran down your spine, as the material was damp with sweat – you smiled at how predictably forgettable he was when he had a woman on his lap, just as you’d imagined –, but his scent soothed you.

Though you were cold, it was a small sacrifice to make to stay here, with him buried so deep inside you that you felt dizzy in the head. Depleted of your energy and sinking into his warmth, you smirked, and rested your chin on his shoulder.

“I was thinking of just staying like this a while,” you admitted.

“Whatever makes you happy,” he breathed, hugging you even tighter. “Whatever you want.”

A.N. Sorry if this was a bit rough, guys. I smashed this one out the other day because I was tired of my writer's block.

I actually laid into some themes that I was planning on using for a Dark!Neil fic based on the song "Creep" which I don't know when I'll get around to writing, but let me know if you guys would like to hear more about the idea for the series or are interested.

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[aldryrththerainbowheart]

HIIII OMG I LOVE YOUR WRITING. Its so comforting but also quite accurate to the character’s personality.

I wondered if u could make a part 2 of Drunk, with Adrian and the reader.

Be free with your imagination i am sure it will turn out great!

🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Hi anon, sorry it took me so long to answer but I had no ideas what to write for this request. 😳

My writing has changed a little since I wrote part 1 of this. Hopefully, it'll be still up to standard.

Days after the incident, Adrian was still haunted by the things he had said and might have said while inebriated. It seemed rather silly, considering you haven't mentioned anything about that night, kind as you were. However, the son of Dracula was shaken after exposing himself to you, in more ways than one.

At the memory of him practically showing his naked chest in your face whilst rambling drunkenly about his loneliness, he could feel his face warming up. He undoubtedly has that unflattering shade of pink on his right now. Adrian lifted his chin from his steepled fingers, pressing his forehead against them instead. Instead of moping behind the wooden table, he should be making dinner as he watched bits of dust dancing in the last rays of evening sun streaming through the Tudor windows.

At this moment, you're probably getting both their beds ready for the night. Pulling back the bedspread and making a fire in the fireplace. You made a habit of slipping a stem of lavender from the garden and putting it under the pillows. He can hear you fussing about it, even though you're one floor higher. The dhampir's senses were finely attuned to your every breath and every movement. It came to the point where it was torturous. He wasn't just trying to dull away the pain of his past, but these pressing feelings as well.

Damn him, again and again, he's becoming attached to people only to be left every time. No doubt you will leave too, once you're able to. He'll be nothing but a fond memory...

"How's the dinner? I hope there'll be someplace left on the stove for teap-"

He's dragged away from his gloomy thoughts by the sudden sound of your voice nearing the door. You stopped mid-sentenced when you saw him sitting at the kitchen table, instead of working at the stove. He felt an immediate pang of guilt.

"Apologies I've seem to be a bit addle-brained today."

Adrian offered an apology as he started pulling the cutlery from its hooks. Hopefully with his back turned and his hands occupied, you won't notice his rather obvious fluster.

"Ah, it's alright," you waved him off in a placating manner as you rounded the table towards him. "Head still spinning from the vine, I see." you teased him as he made a fire in the stove, almost making him set his brows on fire.

As you walked past him, you gently put your hand on his back to make him step away. A whisper of a touch, yet he was tingling all over, his heart beating irregularly.

He clutched the edges of the stove, ignoring the rising heat. It can't go on like this. He has to do something.

You prepared the dinner in relative silence. You chopped mushrooms as he prepared pastry into small pans. Soon, bulky savory tarts were pulled out of the stove. He watched you wolf down four tarts in the row, while his plate was left neglected, safe for the few pokings with the fork.

"Adrian?"

His head snapped to you at the sound of your voice. He noticed you were looking at him in concern.

"What is it? You've been spaced out for days now." It was your turn to study your plate as you mumbled, "Is it...about the kiss?"

He was definitely blushing now. Adrian took a generous gulp of water from his chalice as he contemplated his answer.

"Yes and no."

You looked at him in confusion and he sighed in resignation.

"I'm sorry...my friend. The thing is..." He caressed the grooves in the ground glass. Would she even understand? What kiss meant to him?

"There have been several attempts in my life. There have been people who stayed in this castle pretending to be my friend and then turning on me as soon as I became vulnerable."

Adrian closed his eyes momentarily, chasing away the tainted memory of their hands coiling around him like vines of a poisonous plant. The pleasure, and the pain. So, so much pain... He opened his eyes and there were your eyes, filled with some much tenderness he had to suppress the urge to look away again.

"But last night, you didn't... and you could, easily so."

"I'd never-"

"I know, I know," he gently cut you off by putting his hand over yours. Your palm was much warmer than his, dainty fingers covered completely by his long ones.

"Believe it or not, but you singlehandedly restored a great deal of my hope in humanity. What once had been destroyed..."

He hasn't allowed his mind to wander to dark places, not this time.

"I don't mean to bring up such depressing subjects. But when one leads a life such as mine, you tend to... figure some things out."

"Things?" You carefully prompted, pity overrun by curiosity at last.

Adrian smiled in a self-deprecating fashion. "Well, for example, I have now discovered that in this entire world, I only have one close friend. You are my only solace, the only person that I can talk to regularly."

There was Trevor and Sypha, of course, but they found solace in one another, something deeper than friendship. Adrian understood now, what those feelings meant. His next words were full of emotion.

"I don't know what tomorrow will bring. I don't know if more demons will come and I'll be forced to fight them off. I don't know if the world will end tomorrow... and that used to not bother me. I used to not mind the idea of death. To slip into the quiet sleep..."

He trailed off, and you squeezed his fingers in encouragement. He squeezed yours right back, so you know he's not spiraling again.

"However, whatever courage I have towards that cause always sours at the thought of what comes after. What does come after do you think?"

You looked over his shoulder in contemplation, you traveled places far away from here, no doubt. Thankful you're entertaining his silly musings, Adrian patiently awaits your response.

"I'd like to think it's a place where I meet all my loved ones once more." You gave him a warm smile.

He chuckles at that. "Interesting response."

"What about you? What do you think?"

Adrian shook his head, golden locks tumbling over his shoulders, "As I said, the fear of not knowing that is the only thing that kept me alive for quite some time. But now, now that I've spent some time with you, it allowed me to clear my mind of that sort of dangerous thought. I think I may have an answer, maybe not a very good one but..."

He gingerly trails his hand from yours to the curve of your elbow and you let him. He leans closer, tone bordering on a soft whisper as he looks into your eyes.

"It doesn't matter what comes next, that shouldn't dictate our actions while we are still here. If you want something, chase it." He puts the other hand on your cheek, making his intentions clear with his actions and his words. Carefully, so you can pull away at any time.

Please don't.

"You have allowed me, to come to this mindset," he sighs. "The thought that what I want is worthwhile to pursue. So I will pursue that which I want. I will pursue... you."

It is evident that his words left you speechless. You stare at him with your mouth slightly parted. Adrian lets out a small breathless chuckle.

Is it really that shocking? After our lips have already become acquainted?

"I know...I know that I'm... half human, half vampire, so at the very least I know it can work, but it's up to you, really." His thumb caressed your cheekbone, "I will continue to pursue you for as long as you allow me."

He can see your eyes glistening with emotion, and he hoped his words touched the part of your soul he wanted them to. However you still haven't said a word and Adrian needs you to voice your desires, or lack thereof, directly.

"I bid you command me now. My devotion is solely placed at your feet. I truly cherish you. Every step you take and breath you breathe."

You close your eyes and choke back a sob as he places one small kiss on your forehead.

With a voice clogged up with emotion, you finally release him from his torment.

"I... would love... nothing more... than to be pursued by you." You say as you give him a watery smile.

He lets out a relieved sigh as he presses his forehead to yours.

"Then pursue you I shall."

It takes only a moment for the atmosphere to change around you. With hunger, you never saw in his eyes, he whispers to you hoarsely.

"Come here, you..."

The kiss is devoid of any sweetness the first one had. This one is full of fire and blood and passion that takes your breath away. You don't have time to react as he pulls you to his lap. His kiss goes down your throat and settles in your belly like a fine liquor.

[pedroshotwifey]

Trouble in Paradise (Part One)

Pairing: DBF!Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Of all the things you thought you might be doing on your summer break, falling in love with your father's best friend in Hawaii wasn't one of them.

Tags/Warnings: Nothing crazy yet! Some kind of maybe tension, pet names, talk of Joel knowing reader since she was small, reader has a dad, mom is not mentioned, yadayada

A/N: Hello my friends! I'm terribly sorry I've been away for so long. There have been a lot of...unsavory happenings lately. Want to say sorry in advance because I know this isn't my best writing, but i'm trying to get back into the groove of things. I'm hoping I'll be back to my scheduled programming (TTF, FB, answering requests) by the time this short series is done. Expecting it to be around 3-5 parts. Thank you so much for sticking with me <3

*******

You’ve been laying in your bed blasting your “chill” playlist through your earbuds since you got home from school around five. The last exhausting day of your freshman college year. Lana Del Rey, Cigarettes After Sex, Hozier, and the like have been floating lazily through your head as you watched the sun go down. 

After a long day, you’d hung your head off the foot of your bed, intent to bask in the golden glow of the evening in a baggy T and your underwear until your eyes shut for the night. You were almost asleep when you were interrupted by a sound that didn’t quite go with “Wicked Game”. 

You yank your earbuds out, sitting up on your bed. You don’t remember it getting so dark. Your cracked window allows the late summer breeze in to gently rustle the curtains framing it. Crickets and cicadas chirp loudly outside, creating a symphony to compliment the stars shining through the inky sky. 

“Sweetheart?” 

Your head swivels to look accusingly at your closed door. The name was shouted from the stairway. Definitely your dad.

You roll your eyes but get out of bed. The clock on your nightstand tells you it’s 8:02pm, so he’s probably calling you for dinner. You’ve told him before that it’s easier just to call your cell, but when has he ever listened? You pad to your door, crack it, and shout back. 

“Be down in a minute!”

Getting no response, you can only assume he heard you. You close your door back and pick up the polka-dotted pajama pants crumpled into a pile beside your bed. You tug them on through a yawn, almost tripping a few times before they’re on all the way. 

You check your mirror before heading down. You look sleepy, not like it really matters. Your door creeks as you push it open again and make your way down the stairs. The soft carpet laid in the middle of the hardwood keeping your steps quiet. It’s about halfway to the kitchen that you hear a second voice to your father’s. It sounds vaguely familiar, and your heart skips a beat. Surely it’s not—

You climb down a few more steps and stop in your tracks at the sight of Joel Miller sitting at your dinner table. You haven’t seen him since at least your high school graduation. You’d harbored a small crush on him then, but that had to have been nothing compared to whatever the hell you’re feeling now. Your entire body seems to glow with some mix of embarrassment and surprise. 

You really thought you’d gotten over this silly little crush. Then again, it’s hard to get over something like Joel Miller. High school boyfriends? Sure, no problem. But the classic DILF next door of a best friend your dad has isn’t so easy. He’s been a constant in your childhood, always kind and there for you even when your dad wasn’t. So, in other words, highly inappropriate for you to be so attached to. 

It’s easy to say the years have been kind to him. He’s a few years older than your father, so probably about mid-forties now. He’s started to gray, a fine amount of silver peppered into his mousy brown hair. That beard of his has taken the brunt of it, though. That beard you’ve imagined between your thighs so many times. 

His dark eyes seem to have become kinder thanks to the crow’s feet carefully etched into the corners. He’s wearing his signature T-shirt and worn jeans, his brown leather jacket and work boots likely disposed of near the front door. 

He smirks as his brown eyes fall on your disheveled form, halted on the bottom step. You, in contrast to the god-like figure he’s sporting, must look like an absolute mess. Despite that fact, he looks at you almost in a different way than he used to. More intensely. It makes you resist the urge to squirm. 

“Joel,” you finally manage to choke out. “Hi.” 

Smooth, you think. 

“Hey, trouble,” he returns, light amusement lacing his tone. It makes you nervous, like he’s clocked your little secret. 

He gets up from his seat, and you can tell he’s going for a hug. You shock yourself into action and take the few steps to reach him. He envelops you in his strong arms just like he used to, and you take the opportunity to breathe in his scent. Smokey pine, whiskey, and a hint of mint—just like you remember. 

You’re smiling like an idiot despite yourself as you pull away. Luckily, your dad makes an appearance before you say something embarrassing. 

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” he teases. “You remember my buddy Joel, dontch’a?” 

Joel scoffs before you can answer. “‘Course she remembers me, Scott, known her since she was damn near in diapers.” 

Your dad rolls his eyes. “Well, just to ask,” he argues. 

You shake your head. Same banter between those two for as long as you can remember. They’ve been friends since your dad’s freshman highschool year, and Joel’s senior. Everyone who knows Joel and Scott considers them to be brothers as much as Joel and Tommy.

Cheeks heated, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up while they’re distracted. You shut the door and comb through your hair with your fingers, straighten your tank top, and wipe away the smudged mascara you didn’t care to wash off earlier. 

When you look half-decent, you wash your hands and walk back to the dining room, choosing to ignore the fact that you just tidied yourself for your dad’s best friend. Totally normal thing to do, right?

Joel is sitting back in the same spot as you found him the first time, your dad in the seat opposite of him. There are three bowls of spaghetti served, one in front of each man, and one beside Joel. You’re not going to complain about that. 

You slide into the seat next to him, flashing him a quick smile when he turns his head to acknowledge you. You swear his gaze lingers for a second, but it’s probably just wishful thinking. 

You look away and dig into your food, zoning out as Joel and your dad talk about work. Joel’s presence beside you fuels your daydreaming, his deep, drawling voice keeping it running. You wish so badly to lean into him, feel the comfort of his embrace. Maybe more. You wish, not for the first time, that he would look at you the way you looked at him. You wish he would—

You jolt when you hear your name in conversation, your spaghetti-filled fork halfway to your mouth. 

“No, I don’t think she’d mind at all, would’ya, honey?” 

Your dad looks expectantly at you. Your eyes dart between him and Joel. 

“Uh, sorry, what?” You ask, your cheeks heating for the second time tonight. 

“Helping Joel out. I know it’s been some years, but it’s just basic stuff. Plus, it’ll be in—” 

“Really, Scott, you don’t have to volunteer her if she don’t want to—” 

“No, no,” you interrupt. “I don’t mind at all.” 

In all honesty, you didn’t think your answer through. You have no idea what you just signed up for. Though, if it’s with Joel, it can’t be too bad. 

“No, really, sweetheart,” Joel interjects. “I wouldn’t wanna have a pretty ‘lil’ thing workin’ away on her summer vacation.”

You turn to look at him, flashing him your sweetest eyes. He called you pretty—you feel like you might explode. “I really don’t mind.” 

He waits for a moment before he clears his throat and turns back to your dad. “Alright then,” he says before taking a sip of his drink. “We leave for Hawaii next Tuesday.” 

You just about choke on your dinner. Your dad laughs. 

“Told you, Joel, she doesn’t listen to a damn thing we say.” 

*****

Hawaii? For two weeks? With Joel? What do you even pack?

You stare at your suitcase, waiting for your closet to help you out and throw something in there. Should you bring sundresses or work clothes? Both, right? Probably both. Maybe more work clothes. You said you’d be helping, after all. But with what? 

God, you should have just paid attention to that damn conversation. 

It’s late Monday night, and you haven’t been able to pick up on enough over-the-phone conversation to get the gist of it. You need to stop being such a wuss and just ask. But that would mean calling Joel. Do you really want to call Joel? 

Well, yes, of course you do. But do you really want to sound awkward around Joel? No, no you don’t. And you know that’s exactly what would be happening over the phone with a man you’ve never talked over the phone with. 

You groan, flopping yourself onto your bed to stare at your ceiling and overthink. You don’t want to overpack, because you don’t want Joel to see that you overpacked. But you also don’t want to underpack, because you don’t want Joel to see that you underpacked, either. This really shouldn’t be that hard. You’re about to get back up, say screw it, and throw a mixture in there, when you hear a knock on your door. 

“Come in,” you call, unmoving.

“Hey, honey,” your dad says as he creeps in. “Just got off the phone with Joel.” 

You sit up at this. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, he figured you might want some advice on what to pack.” 

Oh thank God. 

“Said he’s gonna be puttin’ you to work, but to bring some pretty clothes if you want. There’s a pool at the place you’ll be workin’ at, and a beach nearby.” 

You nod along, thanking all that is holy that Joel had the idea to give you some input. 

Your dad eyes your empty suitcase and raises a brow in your direction. 

“He’ll be here around 4:00am, so be ready by then.” He looks back at you. “I love you, sweetheart, I’ll see you when you get back.” 

He gives you a hug and closes your door. 

You take Joel’s advice and pack mostly for work—with a few pretty things just in case. 

*****

As expected, Joel’s truck is in your driveway at 4:00am on the dot. You’re in the passenger seat and headed for the airport by 4:03. 

The ride is less tense than you thought it would be, mostly because the two of you are so tired. You’re practically in a coma against the window, the dull classic country music playing quietly from the old truck’s speakers lulling you to sleep. Joel is in about the same mindset, the lazy drumming of his fingers against the wheel the only thing convincing you he’s still awake. 

Buildings pass in a dark blur, everything mushed together into one big half-dream. Joel’s scent fills the cab, sealing the state you’re in. You glance at the clock: 4:48. You blink, and it’s 5:20, the truck is stopped at the airport, and Joel is gently nudging you awake. You squint at him, the cab light rudely intruding, and you can just barely make out the faint smile on his lips. You have a strong urge to lean forward and kiss him, but thankfully you’re conscious enough to not make a complete fool of yourself right now. 

“C’mon, darlin’, we got a plane to catch.” 

You nod, trying to get your bearings. Joel slides out of his side of the truck, and you follow out of yours, getting a good stretch in before leaning back into the cab and retrieving your suitcase from the narrow backseat. When you make your way around the truck to Joel, he gently grabs it from your hand. 

You look at him, mouth open and ready to argue, but he gives you a look that makes you shut it just as quick. Your stomach flutters at the gesture, and you kind of want to slap him for it. Or maybe yourself. Either way, you keep close to him until you’re entering through the sliding doors out front. 

It only takes about an hour to get through TSA and in line to board the plane, but you’re wide awake by then. And hungry. 

“Hey Joel,” you whisper. He hums at you but doesn’t look down. 

“I’m hungry.” 

Now he looks at you. “I don’t think we got time to grab anything now, darlin’, but we should have a layover at LAX in about three hours. Think you can hold tight ‘till then?” 

You nod, trying not to overthink the conversation. It was literally a few words exchanged between the two of you, but it might be the first time you’ve conversed alone outside of your dad’s house. It felt domestic to you in a way that makes you feel like an idiot. It was one conversation. 

Of course, you have to ruin the moment by humming “Party in the USA”. I mean, it’s Joel’s fault. He was the one to mention LAX. 

He laughs and nudges you. “Quit that,” he commands, though you can tell he thinks it’s funny. You giggle but indulge him. 

“Fine,” you draw out. “Somebody hates fun.” 

He scoffs another laugh, but says nothing. 

Finally, the two of you are next to board. You stop around the middle of the plane, and Joel hoists your bags into the compartment above your seats. Then, he moves aside to let you in first. 

“By the window, darlin’,” he says.

You smile with excitement and settle in, Joel sitting next to you a second later. 

“Your dad said somethin’ about it bein’ your first time flyin’, so I figured you might want a window seat,” he explains. 

Your heart warms at this. Why does he have to be so thoughtful? 

“Thank you, Joel,” you say genuinely, flashing him a smile. It may be the lighting, but you swear you see his cheeks pink up just a little before he nods and faces forward. 

The flight goes by relatively quickly. Joel does some sort of paperwork on the little desk in front of him, and you pop your earbuds in and listen to a downloaded playlist while you read. The light romance you chose was cute, but it failed to distract you completely from the hunk of man beside you. 

You’re not sure how many times you caught yourself staring at the flex of his wrist as he wrote whatever down. It was maybe once or twice that your eyes found their way up to his bicep, possibly a few times that they landed on his lower lip, his teeth bitten into it in concentration. You definitely got heated more times than you would’ve liked. And as your book started heating as well, you had to put it down. You really hope it’s not just you that feels this new tension.

For the last twenty minutes or so, you’ve been looking out the window, content to listen to your music and watch the land go by. For the last five, you’ve felt Joel’s eyes on you. You refuse to look back at him, though, just in case it’s your imagination. 

But you swear you can feel the weight of his stare. You fidget, trying to ignore the feeling as you stare out the window and at the clouds. Then you hear a sharp sound from the speakers 

through your earbuds. 

You take them off and look back at Joel as the pilot informs you that you should be landing in about ten minutes. 

He was staring at you, and he didn’t look away. You don’t look away now, either. You don’t say anything.

“Thank you for comin’ with me, darlin’.” 

You’re taken aback. Of course you would go with him. 

“It’s no problem, Joel,” you say. He gives you a short smile. “I mean, really,” you joke. “You’re the one taking me on a free vacation.” 

He smiles fully this time and rolls his eyes. He tends to do that a lot with you. It makes you smile too. 

The speaker dings again:

“Should be some light turbulence, but we’ll be on the ground soon, folks.” 

Joel looks away after the announcement, gathering his work to put back into his bag. You shake yourself off and choose not to acknowledge whatever the hell that was. 

******

You knew LAX would be busy, but. Holy shit. This place is insane. 

You keep close to Joel as he navigates the two of you through the crowds and to your next gate. He keeps slightly in front of you, and you keep getting the urge to grab his hand to keep up, but you don’t. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this many people in one place—and you thought the Austin airport had been overwhelming. 

There are a million shops and restaurants and gates as you make your way down the massive hallways, up and down the escalators, and through trains. It takes an hour and fifteen before you can even see the sign for your gate. Your legs hurt from walking, and your head hurts from all the noise. 

You keep an eye on some of the closer restaurants you pass so that you can backtrack to them and grab a bagel or something before you have to get on your plane. You catch a glimpse of a Burger King when you’re suddenly slammed into. 

You gasp as you’re sent flying onto your ass by a man who couldn’t be bothered to glance your way to see if you’re alright. Joel whips around and sets the bags down, quickly helping you up. 

“Shit, are you alright, darlin’?” he asks, a deep concern in his eyes. Your cheeks are burning with embarrassment even though it wasn’t your fault. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” 

Joel looks you up and down to make sure as you stand on your own two feet. He turns around, trying to scope out the man who bumped into you, and turns back when he finds that he’s long gone. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” he finally says. “People don’t give a rat’s ass here.” 

You nod, smiling at his choice of words. “I’m alright, Joel.” 

He sighs and picks his bag back up, slinging the large weight over his shoulder, and then picks your suitcase up in one hand. WIth the other, he grabs onto yours. His hand is rough but warm and comforting. 

“Just stay close ‘till we get to the gate.”

Practically glowing, you hold onto him and let him lead the way. It only takes a few more minutes before he’s telling you to sit down at the waiting area. 

“I’m gonna grab you somethin’ to eat, ‘nd I’ll be right back.” 

You decide to read while he’s on his errand, picking your book back up to a particularly smutty part. You’re not going to pretend like you aren’t picturing the characters as you and Joel as he eats her out on a countertop. You bite your lip, consuming each word with fervor.

You’re just finishing the chapter when Joel strolls up with two breakfast sandwiches, a coffee, and an orange juice. He hands you a sandwich and the latter drink, and takes the seat next to you with a groan. 

“Probably have at least thirty minutes,” he grumbles. 

You nod as you thank him and unwrap your sandwich. It’s silent for a few minutes, before you can’t bear it and break the peace. 

“What all are we going to be doing?” 

Joel looks at you, almost flustered. He must have misheard you. “Huh?” 

“Like when we get there, what are we going to be working on?” 

“Oh, uh,” he clears his throat and takes a sip of his coffee. “Mostly flooring ‘nd some drywall, but there should be somethin’ to do in the kitchen if I’m hearin’ right.” 

You nod and take a bite of your sandwich. Joel continues. 

“Should have a few days to relax, though, if we get everythin’ done in time.” 

Your stomach flips at the thought. A few days to relax with Joel. 

“Sounds easy enough,” you say. 

Joel nods again. “Atta girl.”

“Flight 332 is ready to begin boarding.” 

You and Joel take the last bites of your sandwich in silence and stand up to get in line once again. This flight is going to be longer, about six hours. 

Joel throws your trash away and comes back to grab your bags. Same as last time, you have a seat by the window. Not like it matters much in the long run, because just after Joel takes his seat and the plane takes off, your head falls onto his shoulder, and you promptly fall asleep. 

******

Thank you for reading!! Part two should be coming soon.

Itty bitty mini taglist: @callachloe @kewwrites @casa-boiardi @pastawench (love you guys)

Pls let me know if you would like to be tagged in pt. 2!

[starberry-cupcake]

I didn't even give you time to rest and we're back for another round of this. Let's give it up for our sponsor @lady-harrowhark who has helped me get here ♥

previously, on the 1st entry of tlt, aka gideon the ninth:

this happened

also, I was made aware of the fact that there's a 4th book happening?????

??????

I thought they were three, I thought I was coming into this with all the answers out and available

emily has already explained to me the situation and I am taking it very well

I'm very at peace with the fact that I'm gonna have to wait

:)

this is how you all feel, huh?

now, get ready for harrowbean the ninth:

we start out strong with 25 new names

we got a list of lyctors and slurped cavaliers

I'm assuming the crossed out people means dead or slurped

we got another ortus, good for him, I'm gonna remember him

we got another two living new ones, it's likely I will remember an augustine, not likely I'll remember the other one

absolutely no way in hell I'm remembering their cavaliers

absolutely no way in hell I'm remembering the dead

I'm gonna have to think of new nicknames

not!dulcinea is listed and crossed out, as she should be

(the emperor's new groove, indeed)

we've got yandere simulator twin w/inner chad

BUT we'll talk about that in a sec

and then there's harrow

and where gideon should be we got g̵̙͉͚̼̾̽̓̏̾̒̒̂̎͆̕͝ͅi̸̱͍͕̎̆̾̐̇̍̀̎d̷̨̪̙̭̮̜̼͆͆e̴̡̻̰̞̓̈́̋͂̇̐̇̀̓̈́̿̅̚ǫ̷͇̟̳̯͇̤̪̻̩̤̒̅͐͛̒̃͑̂͌́͝ͅn̵̢̙͔̩̗͇͎̻͕̲̮͙̞̓͆̋̈́̿͑͋̈̒͌̀͐̕̚͜͜ ̷͍̫̝̖̮̺̩͖͕̞̾̀͂s̶̖͓̗̩̹̹̥͉̘̄͑͒̾̔͋̑͝h̷̯̲̞͗ơ̵̢͕͙̤̳͎̟̳̖͕͓͋̃̀̉̔̎̈́͆̏̄ͅṷ̴̧̨̢̦̭͈̰͓̪̱̠͓̈̿͆̇̀͑͜ľ̴̨͍͖̘̠̖͎̤̮̱̻͚̑̄͑d̸̢̛̛̻̙̪͙̖̋̃̄͛̅̀̃̐̈̿̏̏͘ ̷̢͚̦̱̩̬̟̺̀̄̈́͂͋̂̄̊̾́́̾̆̄b̷̡͕̲̗͇̠̗͓̈́̍̽͊̇͜ę̴̢̡̱͓̱͉̩̖͇̠͇͎̪̟͗ ̵̪̭͔̊̿͜h̸̢̛̙͍͎͖̻̟̗̫̄̐̀̄̃̽͑̚̕͠ͅe̵̘̳͆̉̿̔͘͘r̸̦̰͌̒̐̓̽́̾͋̏͝ȩ̶̢̖̩͙̗͚̲̈́͠ͅ ̶̡͌̃̏̐̑̀̄̉̀̈́͐̀͊̀͠

👀

I don't know

I think maybe la gideon del 9 isn't totally gone

maybe it's true, maybe it's wishful thinking

maybe her soul got back into her body like when you dream you're falling

her body slurped it back like a noodle

and her demigod powers regenerated her like wolverine

and camilla removed her from the location

and they're both alive and well

don't correct me, let me have this

me, waiting for camilla to come back

after all of this info and the poem/hymn/whatnot we got a prologue which starts with "the night before the emperor's murder"

WELL

OK THEN

WHAT HAPPENED WITH BEING GOD????

the emperor's new clothes and all, he was naked all along

this man is a joke, this man is the wizard of oz, what's going on here

anyway

the prologue is in second person with harrow's pv

I think I have experienced harrow's pv before while reading gideon

hoping for her to focus on one important issue and getting frustrated was very much harrow's pv

harrow is in some sort of battle situation getting directed by the emperor and, as I understand, acting in coordination with the other living lyctors

but also harrow is doing something she shouldn't be doing and they're telling her not to do it

which is like, the harrowest thing to do

so yandere twin comes in to talk to her into moving because she'll be targeted if she stays

and there's a moment when I was like...wait a sec

they say she has blue eyes with specks of brown

didn't she have lavender eyes?????

then harrow says "you should have killed your sister, your eyes don't match your face"

?????????????

yandere twin is very insistent on the helping but also cryptic

I am starting to stan her less

she's starting to get on my nerves and it's the prologue

she also says "choke me, daddy" which

THIS IS NOT THE TIME

gideon gets to do those jokes at terrible times, not you

gideon is allowed

so harrow gets in the fight soul-first and is spitted out of the fight and has a sword through her body

we're doing great over here guys

we're just— this is fine

we're fine

it's f i n e

IT'S FINE

I'm gonna leave the next bit for the next one because this is long enough with the reaction images that I think are crucial to understanding the feelings I'm trying to convey. I'm gonna go to sleep and possibly dream of these characters again. I'll try less pictures and more stuff in the next entry. Hopefully. And maybe read the short story that comes before book 1 because Camilla is in it.

[hunieday]

Momo i-HAKE! Rabbit TV - Part 1: i-HAKE! ~Momo’s episode 1~

Episode 1 - Episode 2 - Episode 3

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

Momo: Yahoo, everyone~! It's Momo from Re:vale!

Momo: Today I'm visiting a community center in Momoharu Town for the “i-HAKE! ~Idol dispatch~" project!

Momo: This town has a big port nearby and is famous for its seafood bowls~

Staff: Momo-san, you sound like you know a lot about this town. Have you been here before?

Momo: I saw its market featured on TV before and thought it looked nice. The rumors were right, it sure is a lovely town!

Momo: Don’t tell me, is the request related to “that”?

Staff: What do you mean by "that"?

Momo: Fish! I could try my hand at butchering a tuna fish for example!?

Staff: Ohh! That would be worth witnessing…!

Momo: Oh, that reaction… Did I actually get it right!?

Momo: Ah, but wait, don’t you need a certificate to process tuna?

Momo: In that case, if Momo-chan needs one... does that mean I’m gonna be shooting here long-term!? Then I’m gonna guess my support guests are either the intelligent Iori or Sougo!

Staff: Momo-san, your deductive skills are sharp!

Momo: Fufu, you can call me the Great Detective Momo-chan!

Staff: Well then, let's call your two support guests on stage to answer your question!

Nanase Riku: Hello, I'm your support guest, Izumi Iori. I like cool and sharp things.

Yaotome Gaku: Likewise, I'm Osaka Sougo. Nice to meet you...Is this how Osaka acts...?

Momo: Yay! bingo! ...or not, it's Riku and Gaku!

Momo: You two found your groove right from the start!

Nanase Riku: Ehehe, that was a good Iori impression, wasn’t it? I’ll introduce myself properly, I'm Nanase Riku! I'll do my best to support you, Momo-san!

Yaotome Gaku: Ahaha. Sorry my impression didn’t go through as well. I'm Yaotome Gaku, I’ll be your support guest.

Momo: Thank you for being here with us today! I feel like I have the strength of a hundred men with you two here!

Momo: By the way, is the request to process tuna...

Nanase Riku: No it’s not!

Yaotome Gaku: Definitely not that.

Momo: You shot it down immediately!? You junior idols are ruthless...!

Yaotome Gaku: Personally I'd like to try it, even if it sounds challenging. 

Momo: Seeing Gaku dismantle a fish on screen sounds exciting!

Nanase Riku: I wanna see that!

Momo: Let me know if you decide to take on that!

Yaotome Gaku: Ahaha!

Momo: Alright, let's get back to the real request... What is it?

Nanase Riku: Alright! On the count of three...

Nanase Riku & Yaotome Gaku: "We want you to perform a traditional Japanese drum dance at a festival!"

Momo: A Japanese drum dance!?

Staff: Yes! Now, let's call the leader of the local youth group who made the request! Please come in!

Youth Group Leader: Heya, nice to meet you! ...Whoa! It really is Momo-san from Re:vale! Amazing! Your idol aura is off the charts!

Youth Group Leader: Woah, Riku-kun and Gaku-kun look so cool too! Can I please take a picture later?

Nanase Riku: Wah... Y-Yes! Sure thing!

Yaotome Gaku: Haha, aren’t you quite energetic.

Momo: He's so friendly!

Youth Group Leader: Thanks! It’s not just me, all the guys in our youth group pour their souls into this festival!

Momo: Wow! And you’re inviting us to a festival this spirited? I'm even more excited now!

Momo: Riku! Gaku! Let's make it more exciting together!

Nanase Riku & Yaotome Gaku: Yeah!

Momo: First of all, could you tell us what kind of festival it is?

Youth Group Leader: It's an annual festival in our community! It's called the "Autumn Leaves Festival," and it's a traditional event we hold in autumn.

Momo: What, the day after tomorrow!? So we only have two days left!?

Youth Group Leader: I'm sorry it's right around the corner...!

Yaotome Gaku: We can handle it. Men burn brighter in the face of adversity.

Nanase Riku & Momo: So cool...!

Youth Group Leader: Everyone in town looks forward to the Autumn Leaves Festival even if it’s not a huge one with fireworks. The Japanese drum performance is the highlight of the event and it gets the crowd excited every year!

Momo: Sounds awesome! But can we really be in charge of such an important part of it?

Youth Group Leader: That's exactly why! This year is the Autumn Leaves Festival’s 100th anniversary so we wanna make it even more spectacular than ever.

Youth Group Leader: Momo-san, you're great at hyping up the crowds either at concerts or on TV. So everyone’s energy is surely gonna skyrocket if you’re there performing at the festival!

Youth Group Leader: We'd be very happy if you could help us...!

Nanase Riku & Momo & Yaotome Gaku: ...!

Momo: I can't help but get fired up when you put it like that!

Nanase Riku: Yes! And a Japanese drum performance sounds like it’s gonna be a lot of fun anyways…!

Yaotome Gaku: yeah, I’m pumped!

Momo: Alright then, let’s give it our best for the big performance the day after tomorrow! Let’s fire up the Autumn Leaves Festival with the best performance!!

Nanase Riku & Yaotome Gaku: Yeah!!!

Momo: Oh, these outfits look really cool!

Momo: Don’t they look like we could put on a live performance wearing them?

Nanase Riku: Wow...! Momo-san, it looks so good on you! You too, Yaotome-san!

Yaotome Gaku: You too, Nanase. I think it’d be quite the artistic portrait to play Japanese drums in these fits.

Youth Group Leader: Everyone looks great in those outfits! So cool!

Momo: Thank you!

Youth Group Leader: Wow... I felt my heart race when you winked at me...! I’m kinda nervous...!

Yaotome Gaku: As expected of you, Momo-san. Your fan service is top-notch.

Momo: Wearing this outfit activated my switch.

Youth Group Leader: The outfits are fantastic, but the drums over there are what’s making me really excited!

Momo: I'm itching to practice already!

Youth Group Leader: I’m glad to see you so motivated, Momo-san! I’ll call the drum instructor right away.

Youth Group Leader: The Autumn Leaves Festival would be nothing without him! He's been playing the drums for 50 years! Here’s our instructor, Gen-san!

Gen-san: Nice to meet you all. I'm looking forward to working with you.

Nanase Riku & Momo & Yaotome Gaku: Nice to meet you!

Nanase Riku: The fact that you’ve been playing for 50 years is seriously impressive…!

Gen-san: No, it's nothing. I just happened to pick up the drumsticks at my first Autumn Leaves Festival, and before I knew it, I reached this age.

Youth Group Leader: Everyone who performs the Japanese drum in this town learned the basics from Gen-san. I was still a kid when he first taught me...

Nanase Riku: It has quite a long history...!

Youth Group Leader: Of course! It's a traditional performance that’s been passed down through generations during the festival after all!

Yaotome Gaku: It's a big responsibility...

Momo: Yeah, but it makes me even more motivated. We'll put our hearts into playing the drum!

Gen-san: Thank you. I'm glad to hear that.

Gen-san: By the way, have any of you played the Japanese drum before?

Momo: I played a little during an elementary school sports festival... But I’ve never been taught properly.

Yaotome Gaku: I'm on the same boat over here...Oh, I did practice while playing a few rounds of taiko games before though… 

Momo: I'm good at those games!

Yaotome Gaku: You like playing games, don’t you?. ...But this might be different from the real deal…?

Momo: I seeeee! Yuki is complete ass at playing racing games and often ends up driving in reverse, but his real-life driving skills are top-notch…

Nanase Riku: I used to play with toy drums we had at home when I was little...

Gen-san: I understand. Let's start by learning how to stand.

Gen-san: Each one of you stands in front of a drum.

Gen-san: Momo-kun, you stand in front of the large drum in the center. Riku-kun and Gaku-kun, please stand in front of the medium-sized ones on each side.

Nanase Riku: Momo-san's drum is huge...!

Yaotome Gaku: It’s really impactful! It really feels like the main one.

Nanase Riku: Momo-san is in the center!

Momo: The center, huh! Re:vale doesn't really have that so it’s refreshing, I’m kinda happy!.

Nanase Riku: Well, us three are a special unit right now so we'll support you, Momo-san!

Momo: Thanks, Riku! Since I have you two supporting me, I need to do my best too.

Gen-san: Hmmm... I was going to teach you how to stand but you already look graceful. Maybe you should pull your shoulders back a bit to open your chests?

Momo: Opening our chest, huh…Like this? 

Gen-san: Ah… Yes, exactly. Your posture is good and so is your intuition. Riku-kun and Gaku-kun have a very upright standing posture, too.

Gen-san: And now, first bow to the drum before holding the drumsticks... 

Nanase Riku & Momo & Yaotome Gaku: ...

Gen-san: ...Oho. You've already done it.

Nanase Riku: Ah...! I’m sorry for doing it without your instruction...!

Yaotome Gaku: My body moved on its own...

Momo: Ahaha... I just wanted to greet the drums properly since they'll be helping us at the festival.

Gen-san: Fufu. No need to apologize… There's nothing more to say about your readiness.

Momo: ...Thank you very much!

Gen-san: Well then, you can finally pick up the drumsticks and start playing.

Gen-san: I apologize for the lack of practice time, but I'll teach you everything I can. So please look forward to the Japanese drum performance.

Nanase Riku & Momo & Yaotome Gaku: Yes! We're looking forward to working with you!

Momo: I'll pour my heart and soul into it so that the townsfolk can also call this year's Autumn Leaves Festival a good one!

End of Episode 1.

[bonesandthebees]

You don’t have to answer this but I’ve always been hugely inspired by your writing and I’ve always wondered how you keep yourself motivated?

Not just on the bigger fics but even the one-shots. What keeps you going? My biggest struggle lately has been motivation after going through a bit of a mental health struggle and as I’ve been trying to come out of it, I feel like my writing is no longer as good as it used to be. I used to write all the time and it felt like I could turn anything into content but now it just feels like everything I write goes nowhere.

I feel like maybe I’m just putting too much pressure on myself to put out content rather than just enjoying it like I used to but I’ve felt a lot of guilt from not putting anything out in so long.

Anyways like I said, you absolutely don’t have to answer this but I thought I’d throw it out there to see if you had any advice you’d want to share, it would be hugely appreciated.

this is a really good question! unfortunately my answer I think only really works for me and not most people. part of the reason I write so much is because writing is my escape from whatever is going on in my life that's stressing me out. the busier I am, the more I want to write. and when I don't have the inspiration/energy to write for too long, my mental health gets worse as a result.

truthfully, a lot of the time it's easier for me to process a fictional character's emotions than my own. so when my mental health is bad or I'm getting too sucked into my own head, writing isn't just something I do for the hell of it. I need it to keep me from spiraling too deeply into my own head. (of course this doesn't always work and it depends on what I'm writing about, but this is true for the most part)

so for me, the way I keep my motivation up is that I know I'm going to feel like shit if I don't write. I find joy in plunging myself into fictional worlds and characters and, as I said, I use it as my escape. while I know not everyone uses writing as an escape like I do, the one bit of advice I think you might be able to take from me is to try and find the joy in it. don't force yourself to write something you don't want to. don't write something just because you think it's what other people want to see.

I completely understand the pressure to write for content rather than your own enjoyment, especially when you have unfinished works. but you have to remind yourself you're not obligated to update anything. you're writing fanfiction for free. you don't owe it to anyone.

and I also totally get feeling like your writing is worse now, and while I doubt that's true, even if it is, you gotta push through. the only way you're going to get back in the groove of writing is by doing it.

honestly if I have any recommendation for you, write something to post anonymously. sure, you're not updating whatever you have ongoing, but again you don't owe it to anyone. sometimes you just need to get back in the saddle. maybe you can use this as an opportunity to write an idea you weren't sure your audience would react well to. or maybe you can just use this to start a project you feel like you won't finish, but want to put out in the world anyway. I've done this before and it definitely helps to get me back in the writing mindset. you don't have to feel embarrassed for posting this other thing instead of your ongoing wips on main, because no one will know it's you.

I hope this helps! I know it's not easy letting go of the pressure and tbh it never leaves entirely, but just try to find joy in writing for writing's sake rather than content.

[wenjunting]

starlight boys ep 1 thoughts!

comments on the system: ok i get it you're trying to be star themed but (a) it just feels like boys planet and (b) where are my iqiyi letter grades :( the coloured shirts? hello? the SPIRIT of idol producer/youth with you?

also zero star is HARSH harsh.

all that aside the trainees voting makes it interesting ngl

blood sweat & tears: calling yourself bts is just setting yourself up for failure i'm sorry

breathe: i do like syo's spirit but i do also think ryou kaito did better.. i hope syo gets his groove back bc he feels so refreshing

darari: KIM SEONGJU IS SO CUTE genuinely!! he reminds me of chen linong from ip :] the enthusiasm and the joy he sparks. star material. i was so happy when he was voted first at the start

crazy form: AYEEEE crazy form. ateez my GOATS. i think the guy who got all star wasn't really at the same standard as the other all stars. they still did pretty good though

black suit: SHAO ZIHENG MY GOAT. no words. phenomenal. slayed the house down. he feels so humble too. if i were him my ego would be through the ROOF

beautiful: THESE FIVE LOOK LIKE LITERAL CHILDREN they deserve better but at the same time they absolutely deserved the zero stars. i hope the show helps them do better. but they're so young

my house: bae173 omg.. the part with yoon saying she debuted at the same time as them was. something. i am rooting for them

fantastic baby: i cringed. the rapper guy (rex) annoys me idk why people voted him. 短剧哥 (zhang jijun) should stick to his 短剧s and his acting and his 600k followers. yang yan was bad singaporean representation and i am ashamed on our behalf HE WAS LITERALLY. SO NOT PRESENT

really really: oh man lee daeul and hui.. i never watched boys planet but. those two. rooting for him sort of

love 119: mic guy (zhang jinghe) screwed up ngl. i do like wang kun bc i watched him on asia super young but like. does he deserve all that hype

rush hour: YEAHHH this one was a banger. go lee junhyuk. he handled the mic thing so well too

good guy: also great. pentor is fun. kinda sad that they completely glossed over kris though

answer: oh boy. first, hell yeah ateez!! second, hell yeah ixform!!! neil did super well and duan xingxing really does have it all huh. i felt that sun yinghao was a bit weaker/didn't stand out but like. by god can these guys perform.

what the fuck happens in the next episode for sun yinghao to break down on camera "we're people not machines" HELLO??? MY GUY????

why only once a week.

i will be voting for shao ziheng, sun yinghao and lee junhyuk :]

[blueeyedrat]

Games I played in 2023.

Last year was stable. This year has been... less so. I've bounced between getting out more and shutting myself in more, and between trying to take better care of myself and letting small issues and stressors start to pile up. My steady job got a lot less steady, and I'm now out of work and finding ways to pass the time. Like video games, for instance. Shall we?

(2022 ⇐ 2023)

Moncage

This was another decent year for getting caught up on games I've tried out and expressed an interest in before. Moncage, INSIGHT, Railbound, URBO, and a few other games you'll see further down the list. I also followed up on some games I've played in the past like Train Valley 2, and even dipped back into some old mainstays like Eternal. One of these days I'll find time for Minecraft or Dwarf Fortress again.

I more or less broke even on my backlog this year, chipping away at smaller games from assorted bundles I've picked up over the years, but also picking up some new bundles to add to the pile. So many games, so little time.

Before We Leave

While we're talking about the backlog, here's a game I've been interested in for a while. A settlement builder in a solar system of small planets, with a quaint aesthetic of wooden ships and massive space whales. I was pleasantly surprised how much I enjoyed this one. The automation and logistics aspect is an interesting spin on the genre, even it gets a bit complex at times. Never too challenging, though, and there's enough depth and nuance to hold my interest all the way to the final stages and on towards the stars. I'm looking forward to the upcoming sequel.

The Legend of Zelda (series)

It's hard to go wrong with Zelda. I have fond memories of Skyward Sword, Wind Waker HD, and Breath of the Wild, and with a new one on the way, it seemed like as good a time as any to catch up on my library. In order: Link's Awakening DX, Ocarina of Time, Majora's Mask, The Minish Cap, and the DLC quests from Breath of the Wild I never got around to. Our Wii U saw more activity than it's gotten in years.

Opinions on each: Awakening was a fun, solid 2D adventure that never overstayed its welcome, though the game shows its age at a few points. Likewise, Ocarina was an interesting look at the series' jump to 3D, but was also somewhat janky at times and it took a while for me to really get into a groove with it. (I think the turning point might've been the Water Temple. I actually liked the Water Temple. Ye gods.) Majora was a sizeable improvement gameplay-wise and played with the format in neat ways, though I'll admit that I butted heads with the time loop mechanic more than once.

I have a particular nostalgia for Minish Cap; some of my earliest memories of Nintendo games are watching my friend's GBA over his shoulder on the bus ride to elementary school. After so long, this was the one I was most curious to see if it held up. Answer: yes. Minish Cap is officially my favorite 2D Zelda, and the highlight of this little retro binge. There's a lot of charm to it, and it just feels good to play.

It may be a bit too recent for nostalgia, but I almost forgot how much I loved Breath of the Wild. My old file was exactly how I left it, and playing through the extra content was a good way to re-acquaint myself with the "new" Zelda style before…

The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom

This was a daunting one. If I had to sum up Tears in one sentence, it would be this: There is so much game in this game. Even compared to its predecessor, there's so much to do and so many more layers of exploration and interaction, with a wide array of smaller improvements that make it a smoother experience overall.

I wish I could say I put as much time into this game as I did into Breath of the Wild, and I did put a lot of time into it, but… some other things got in the way. Summer is when my work got a lot busier and a good amount more stressful, and this was a game I slowly chipped away at whenever I found time for it. I got pretty much everything I wanted out of it, and after the credits rolled, I put it away and haven't touched it since. I should change that. I'm sure there are more good times to be had.

Mutazione

The word that comes to mind to describe Mutazione is fascinating. It's a point-and-click narrative, light on gameplay, heavy on story and character. Of the other games I've played recently, the vibes remind me the most of Sable – quiet and contemplative, where all you want to do is observe and take in the world and characters that are being presented to you. It dovetails nicely with the story itself, which largely consists of a curious little soap opera playing out around characters who are along for the ride. The writing is some of the best I've seen this year, and gets real fuckin' raw in ways I wasn't expecting. This one will stick with me for a while.

Pikmin 3 / The Wild at Heart

I've never had the focus or dexterity for a really complex RTS, but Pikmin's always been a little more approachable. Played the second game in the series a while back, picked up a used copy of Pikmin 3 at a local convention this year, and with another one coming out, it seemed as good an excuse as any to make it a double feature.

Both games have their charms. Pikmin has a distinct style and sense of scale that's hard to replicate, and a good variety of environments and encounters and puzzles. The Wild at Heart is smaller in scope as a Pikmin-like, and hits some familiar beats while remixing some of the core ideas in interesting ways. The latter also put more of an emphasis on character and narrative, something I'd like to see fleshed out more, but what we got was still satisfying. Both games were fun, and I'm looking forward to getting my hands on Pikmin 4 soon.

Chants of Sennaar / Heaven's Vault

Another double feature – one game that caught my eye immediately, and another I've been curious about for a while. For a long time I've had a fondness for constructed languages, with scripts and writing systems of particular interest. The idea of decoding such a language lends itself well to a puzzle game, and these two approach it in different ways: Chants of Sennaar features multiple cultures in a Tower of Babel-esque setting, each with their own quirks and traits to learn and translate between, and their own puzzles to solve. Heaven's Vault opts for depth, with a single language and a vast history that you slowly unravel through exploration.

My verdict for both games is the same. The language puzzles are really cool and interesting! I want more of them! …Everything else in between gets sort of meandering at times. Not enough to drag down the overall experience, but perhaps enough to overstay its welcome. Sennaar filled the space with a mish-mash of puzzles and stealth, which felt oddly paced at times. Heaven's Vault's pacing was hit even harder with slow exploration and visual novel-esque story segments – fine enough for one playthrough, but the amount of wandering and backtracking involved makes me hesitant to go back and play NG+ to see the rest of the content. I don't have the patience to play a visual novel multiple times to see what all of the dialogue options do. The story's fine as is, and I got what I wanted out of it.

Even with their faults, these are still probably the games that influenced me the most in 2023. If anyone asks me, as a game dev, what I would make given unlimited time, resources, and creative freedom, from now on I'm going to point to Chants of Sennaar and say "something like that". I want more games like this to exist. I will make them myself, if I have to.

F-Zero 99

This wasn't the only racing game I played this year – a bunch of new content was added to Mario Kart 8, and I also pulled Horizon Chase Turbo from my backlog and spent a bit of time on that – but this is definitely the one that made the biggest splash. I've never played an F-Zero game, and it controls differently enough from other racers I've played that I had to unlearn a lot of muscle memory, but I got the hang of it after a while. The 99-player model is frantic in an enjoyable way, and races are quick enough that it's easy to pick up and play in short bursts… which is good, because short bursts are all my nerves can take with this one. Seriously this game is stressful. Fun, but stressful. Maybe one of these days I'll actually win a 99-player race.

Cobalt Core

I've been playing... a lot of Cobalt Core these past couple months. I don't jump on every roguelite or deckbuilder that comes out, but when one does get its hooks in me, they get in deep. This is another one of those games where everything just works. Great music and pixel art, fun characters (all traits shared with its predecessor, Sunshine Heavy Industries, which I also liked this year), a simple but engaging narrative, and an addicting gameplay loop that I can easily sink an hour into whenever the mood strikes me. It doesn't reinvent the wheel, but it doesn't need to – it takes a lot of ideas from games that have come before it, and builds on them to create something really enjoyable. One of my favorite games of the year, without question.

Terra Nil

As we build up, so too must we tear down. This is another one I wanted to get to sooner or later, and managed to slip it in during the last couple weeks of the year. It's also a type of game I want to play more often; a lot of the time when I play sim and builder games all I really want in the end is to build nice-looking homes and environments, and Terra Nil spins that into a puzzle game where those things are the only goal. It was a nice time, but left me wanting more – either more content in Terra Nil, or more games like it.

Eastward

This game is… a curiosity. A solid action-adventure game with a memorable cast of characters and impeccably detailed pixel art. Gameplay flips back and forth between slow-paced story segments and fun setpiece levels with a decent variety of tools for combat and puzzle-solving. The biggest sticking point is the narrative: the pacing and worldbuilding felt odd and disjointed in places, particularly in the back half, sometimes feeling like it's saying too much and often like it's said too little. Yet throughout all that, it never failed to be compelling, and I was hooked all the way 'til the end. What's more, the idea of the upcoming Octopia DLC flipping the entire game and setting on its head has my interest thoroughly piqued – something to look forward to in the coming year.

-

Here's to 2024, and here's hoping things turn around sooner or later.

[man11c]

Xavier x Reader - Maybe a few more lessons. Pt 4.

Plot - During second term, you join Nevermore academy. One of the first things you do is join the archery club, and from there you get to know Xavier Thorpe. At first he seems head over heels for Wednesday, but maybe at some point he'll see something in you? In school, you go through many dilemmas which you need to solve.

Part 4

───♡───

The project you were working on was a long one. Xavier was always the one texting you asking to come over to his dorm and work on it - you always let him do it first because he would be too busy trying to chat up Wednesday. This project seemed to be the only thing that distracted him even for a little bit.

At lunch you were sat with alone, since Bianca was doing other things. You didn't mind thought, you enjoyed the time to yourself. Picking at your food, not really fancying to eat anything so instead you dazed into the sandwich that sat infront of you. You tapped your fingers againts the dark oak table; your nails hitting the grooves in the wood. You weren't sitting alone for much longer as Xavier came over, thinking you've been ditched. Plonking himself next to you, he tapped your shoulder. You thought maybe Bianca was back so you turned to look, it was a surprise to see Xavier. "Dont you have better places to be Xavier...usually you're sitting with Wednesday?" You shake yourself off and reach for your bottle to get a drink, you had to fill your stomach with something. "Well, Wednesday isn't around so no I have nothing better to do. Plus you're sitting all alone." Xavier said almost sadly with a solemn sigh And you thought to yourself. Wow, so if Wednesday was around he wouldn't even notice. That was no surprise.

You starighted your posture and give Xavier a frown. "Bianca isn't around, but I'm fine sitting alone. So you can run off and find Wednesday." You say seriously, not really caring for it. But Xavier just laughed at the tone of your voice. He placed his elbow on the desk and held his head within his palm. His body turned to you as he watched you with a smirk. "Maybe I want to sit with you (y/n). I mean your company isn't too bad." He said with his usual cocky grin, with his teeth poking from under his lip. You huff as you look at him. "What do you want Xavier?" Maybe he wanted a favour about Wednesday or something along the lines of that. "Nothing! Can I not sit with my freind?" Huh... we're on a friendly bases now? I mean you didn't object to it. Playfully rolling your eyes as you softly giggled to yourself before finally taking a bite of the abandoned sandwich. "See you look brighter already, I'm too charming." Xavier dramatically sighed as he flattered himself. "If charmings another way to say idiotic... then yes." Xavier held his hand over his heart as he heard you words, while you laugh at his reaction. "(Y/n) you are really hurting my feelings." He said wiping his fake tears off his face. "You'll survive." You dismissed him as you shake your head. Xaviers fake hurt expression transformed back to his casual smile.

"Say what (y/n)... let's go to the cafe downtown, yknow because we've worked so hard on our project." Xavier spoke slowly as you asked you, his hand in his hair as he played with his hair that conventionally sat next to his hand. "Sure." You only gave him a breif answer. The bell rang before he could add anymore, but you already started packing up. Throwing the unfinished sandwich into the bin. "I'll text you the details later. See you about (y/n)." Xavier shot you a final look before heading off in the opposite direction to you.

You had almost forgot you even agreed to go out with Xavier until you see his text pop up on your phone. You glance at the notification before reading over it properly. Xavier : 'let's do Friday, after our last class? We'll be together anyway :)' The text read.

You placed your phone down and thought to yourself, you didn't back anything on the Friday. At least nothing you could remember in the current moment. After a few minutes, you replied to his text. Your finger tips tapping away at the screen. (Y/n) : 'yeah sure, sounds good.' And you left it at that. This would be your first time actually heading into town, you've taken your time getting to know the school and your way about it.

Friday came by faster than you expected, you sat in your last class next to Bianca. But she turned to talk to you. "(Y/n) do you want to go out with me and Yoko after this, just shopping and whatnot." You were about to agree before you remembered you already had things planned out. "Oh, I'm sorry but I've already told Xavier I'd go to the cafe with him. It's only about the project." You tried to clear up, you didn't want to upset Bianca. But it seemed like you were too late, she looked at you with a dissapointned look before clicking her tongue off the roof of her mouth. "Maybe another time then." She said with a sigh. You felt sort of bad for letting her down, she was your freind and roommate at that, and you were going out with her ex to the cafe... God that wasn't great.

The bell rung through the class, and eveyone began packing up their things to hurry up and go do the things they wanted to. People rushed out of the class, but Xavier hung around at the door. Looking at you while you walked down to him. He swayed his body back and forth with his hands deep In his pockets. As you finally reached him, you looked up at him. He had his cheeks sucked in and his lips perked out as you looked down at his shoes. An expression he pulled often. "You're standing there acting like you've asked me out on a date." You said to him, making him look back up at you immediately with a slightly surprised face. "Well, this can be a date If you want (y/n)." Xavier spoke up, a teasing reminiscent in his tone. You push him, almost throwing his balance off completely causing him to stumble back. "Oh shut up and lead the way Xavier." You shoo him forward. He mumbled something under his breath as he then began walking. Taking your place next to Xavier, you walked next to him holding your hands infront of you. "I can show you around town if you want, it would probably be good for you to get to know Jericho" He offered while looking ahead of himself, not even needing to think about where he was going. "If we have the time Xavier, that would be nice."

Xavier held the door for you, a small ding above you as the door was opened up. You walk in, and you were hit with smells of coffee and some sweet aromas mingling with the smell of the bitter coffee. Xavier walked in after you and lead you to a table for two, a small booth at the window. The two of you sat down, him sitting opposite of you. "I had to work here for outreach day... it wasn't bad. Better than the other jobs." Xavier mentioned as he slid the menu across the table for you to look over. You look up from the menu with an amused expression on your face. "I can imagine that. You in a little batista apron." You tease him, with a small laugh following. You lower your gaze back to the menu and scan through some of the items they had. It didn't take you long to decide before passing the menu back to Xavier. He goes go take the menu from you, the tips of his fingers brushing against yours. You chose to ignore that. While he looked at the menu, you watched intently as his eyes read across the things on the laminated sheet of paper.

A young man came over, standing at your table with a small note pad and pen. You moved your gaze to him instead. "What would you like the order guys?" He asked politely with a smile on his face. You went ahead and answered first. "Hm, I'll have one Cinnamon bum and also one honey and vanilla tea please?" The man nodded and jotted your order down before turning to Xavier. "Ah, just a small coffee please and a small apple tart thank you." The waiter then nods as he walks off to go through the kitchen. Xavier brought his attention to you, and leaned forward to the desk. His hands sitting on the table, holding them together. "So, what do you think from what you've seen?" Xavier questioned you. "Hm, it's nice. Not too bad, it's a sweet little town." You face the window, watching the people that passed the window. Not too far away, you noticed Bianca and her freinds. You forgot she was coming here.

Averting your gaze back to Xavier, who still had his eyes on you. "So, what made you move to Nevermore? I don't know a lot about you (y/n)." He tilts his head to the side waiting for an answer. Your answer was breif, it was nothing special. "Well, I ended up usuing my ability on a few girls who wouldn't leave me alone... it scared them. So I actually got expelled. Nothing too bad." You explained as you looked over to the counter of the cafe. A small tip jar and a few signs that sat up. "Oh, interesting..." Xavier said with a small hum in his voice. You were sort of... anxious telling him, afterall you knew why he broke up with Bianca. You bit on the inside of your cheek waiting for your order.

The wait wasn't long, afterall not many people were in. A few people dotted in some of the other seats, some from your school and others regular humans. The male came out with your stuff, placing it infront of you with a sincere smile on his lips. Maybe he took longer than needed to give everthing to you before moving on to Xavier. You didn't even wait until digging into your bun. And immediately you melted into your seat as the sweet food hit your tatse buds. "Mhh!" You hum in satisfaction, it made Xavier laugh while he warmed his hands againts the porcelain cup that contined steaming coffee. "I don't think I've seen you this happy over anything." Xavier commented before taking a sip of his coffee. You didn't even reply, you were too busy eating your cinnamon bun.

While the two of you ate and drank, you joked about and laughed together. You were enjoying your time with Xavier. Both of you sharing laughs together. Though, someome from afar observed you. Bianca to be exact. She watched as you enjoyed the company of her ex she warned you about. Grinding her teeth together in annoyance before heading off. If Wednesday wasn't enough... you were also here.

The rest of the afternoon was you and Xavier wandering around shops. Messing about and joking together. You hadn't remembered a time were you enjoyed yourself that much. You two played around, and walked around until it was dark and chilly. Time went went by so swiftly while with him. Your cheeks were sore from laughing so much around him, but the cold was getting to you. Your cheeks already rosey from laughing. But now they coated with a red blush from the cold prickling at your skin. "I think we should head back, you seem cold (y/n)." Xavier moved his hand to touch your cheek. Brushing the back of his hand softly againts your skin. "God you're cold... let's go. Its dark aswell." He pulled his hand back before leading you back through the calm streets. The two of you had a good day together. Better than you'd expected.

Again Xavier escorted you to your dorm, and waited until you were inside. "Thank you for this date Xavier. I really enjoyed it." You joked about as you brought up the small joke he made from earlier. Xavier smiled at you, bringing his hand up to his hair as he moved it out from his face. "Maybe I can bring you out on another date if you enjoyed it so much." Xavier joked right back at you with a redy hue hinting at his cheeks. You laughed together before he finally left your sight.

"A date... with Xavier?" You heard Bianca speaking as the door shut. She stood looking at you with a deepened gaze. Oh god. How were you going to get out of this...

──────────────────────

This one was quite cute 💞❗️ I can't wait to see how (y/n) and bianca talk this through however... the friendship might go a little south

Part 5 out now❗️❗️

Word count : 2103

[kuzcoskingdom]

Lovely to see a blog dedicated to one of my favourite Disney movies!

No idea if you've been asked this before, but instead of asking about the comedy I'll ask something harder to pin down: what's your favourite emotional moment from the movie? (Mine is probably the apology that doesn't need to be said scene at the grass meadow)

Oh, and if that isn't a stupid question, what are your thoughts on Kronk's New Groove and Emperor's New School?

hey, glad you like my blog!! i only made it this year, sort of on impulse because i was going through yet another emperor's new groove obsession and there's multiple blogs out there like this for my other favorite disney movies, but any similar blogs for ENG i could find hadn't been active in years. so i thought it'd be fun to start one myself. warning that i tend to ramble so this might get a little long.

this might be a bit of an obvious answer, but i think my favorite emotional moment might just be the scene toward the end when kuzco tells pacha he's decided not to destroy the village! i love how it manages to be both emotional and funny at the same time, with kuzco feeling the need to apologize in this snarky, indirect way and pacha knowing exactly what's up and going along with it, and then indirectly inviting kuzco to be his neighbor for the summer. it's so sweet.

no such thing as a stupid question! it's been a while since i saw kronk's new groove and i probably need to rewatch it. i do remember thinking last time i watched it that it was one of the better disney sequels, but also that kronk didn't need to have a love interest tbh? just because of the setup of kronk's papi wanting him to settle down with a wife and kids and a large house, and him being uninterested in those things and determined to stay true to his own groove. though i do love kronk and remember thinking it was cool how they expanded on his character. and i loved it whenever kuzco interrupted the movie and when he pretended to be kronk's fake wife, lol.

as for the emperor's new school... i actually have a lot more thoughts on it but i don't want to reply with a massive wall of text so i'll try to be as concise as i can here LOL. i'll also say that this is all just my own personal opinion and if anyone disagrees then that's totally cool! but the show kiiind of frustrates me and gives me a lot of mixed feelings because i don't like how kuzco is written in it. i get that people don't completely change overnight, but a lot of the time in the show he's just so mean and selfish and his development often gets reset so he can learn the same lesson again in another episode. he'll also have really sweet moments with malina but then go back to mistreating her. it just bugs me because i love him in the movie and i feel like the show could've handled him better while still having him be flawed.

but, on the other hand, the show is often laugh-out-loud funny and i'm really glad eartha kitt and patrick warburton returned to voice yzma and kronk in it, because they're the source of a lot of great comedy. i also think malina is a great character (she's surprisingly well-developed especially for a 2000s spin-off cartoon imo) and there are certain parts of her romance with kuzco that i find really endearing, plus she's headstrong and takes no shit from him, so i still ship them even though i dislike how he treats her sometimes. i also love the fact that kuzco moves in with pacha and chicha and pretty much becomes a part of their family. some of my favorite episodes of the whole show are the ones that center on that wholesome found family dynamic. i've been thinking of possibly making some gifs of my favorite moments from the series!

[aerospectrum]

@wexarethewalkingxdead asked: you can say it until you're blue in the face. the answer is still no. (from Carol to Jamie)

“Are you going to ignore me the whole night?” Jamie asked, still laying on his back as the fire warmed up between them. “What if I say sorry for every mistake I’ve made so far?”

“You can say it until you’re blue in the face. The answer is still no. ; I’m not ignoring you.”

“well you’re not talking to me…” he tried to prop himself on his elbows, but he was exhausted and the movement alone caused his head to spin. "I need you to just try and relax, ok Jamie?” Carol glanced up from her book when he shifted around and Jamie slowly rolled his head over in the mud and found it hard to settle on her face. It felt like they were still trapped in the drainage pipe just lurking beneath the flooding water . “How are you feeling?”

“like I’m half dead and can't catch my breath.” He mumbled up at her, watching a pained expression filter across her face in the hopes that a smile would form. But it didn’t. “My head hurts..” he groaned softly and winched when she carded her fingers through his muddy locks.

“well I’d think so.” Carol answered; “Jamie stop, just lay down for now.” She insisted when he tried to hoist himself up with one arm, he was wobbly and shaky; like a fawn on fresh legs. “Damnit, why can't you just listen instead of being so damn stubborn all the time.

“because I'm gonna throw up.” Jamie squinted his eyes shut and fought back a wave of nausea before Carol relented. Her hands on his shoulders provided more support than he realized he needed, but she slowly sat him up, putting his coat over his shoulders and chest and tucking it in around him once she’d gotten him propped up against a tree. “Thanks…” he whispered, rubbing at his head again and picking up on her unspoken signals. "Carol?” He asked, though he looked away when she leveled him with her gaze. "Are you mad at me?" there's a new feeling of remorse and guilt creeps in again, but she didn’t seem keen on telling him just yet for some reason.

“we need to get you out of those clothes.”

“why?”

“because I said so, Jamie.”

“You’re mad, why are you mad?” He asked, he watched her with quiet eyes- wanting to know how to fix what he'd done.

“you lied to me."

“I didn’t lie—

“you did.” She rummaged through his pack for a pair of dry jeans and socks and underwear to go with before she returned her attention to him. “You said that you were fine when we left that house; you swore on it that we didn’t need to stay a few extra days for you."

“I was fine I- I am—"

"Jamie you almost died on me!

"Wh— what- what the hell are you talking about?"

It dawned on Carol that Jamie really had no idea what she was upset for. It was like he blacked out and lost an entire day of memory. She was angry for no reason because he couldn’t even defend himself.

Carol pinched the skin on the bridge of her nose and slowly dragged her fingers down the soft grooves of her smile lines before she slapped her hand to her thigh. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to leave the house; we were safe there and you actually had a bed to sleep in; another two days wouldn’t have made a difference. But you told me you were ready to head out and I didn’t press you hard enough. I should’ve said no.” She crawled over to sit beside him and took his hand in hers with a sigh before recounting the memory. "There was a what I thought to be a hoard that overtook us- you kept telling me the sun was hurting your eyes and I... I didn't listen I didn't want to lose you to those things so I had you help me pry off the cover of a drainage tunnel and--"

"And I fell in and you jumped in after..." he slowly started to recall. "Panic attack... I almost got you killed again.. sorry." He'd meant to tell her he didn't feel well, but she was so insistent on getting back to her community and to be honest, he was just excited at the possibility of belonging somewhere, with her. He willfully neglected his judgement in favor of her. And then the whisperers found them and it riddled him with a fear that overtook every part of him.

He remembered hitting the water and going under, the rush of cold water yanked him down into drainage tunnel like nothing and when he called out for Carol she smashed her hand over his mouth to silence him. "Don't speak, these aren't walkers, they're whisperers." her words sent a chill so deep into his spine he nearly passed out.

There was a terror in his eyes like nothing she’d ever seen before; she clocked the panic attack before he could register what was happening. “Shh…” she tried to shush him, watching how his features filtered the panic one emotion after the next. The way his body shook beside hers made her slowly wrap her arm around his waist, keeping him tucked in close beside her as the water flooded in around them- up to their shoulders rising above their chins.

Jamie tried to keep afloat, hanging onto the overhang- trying to ground his mind and stay coherent for Carol between terrified breaths. “It’s ok, you’re ok we’re ok.” She whispered, almost silently nodding along with him. He closed his eye to try and stave off another wave- but the noise bubbled in his throat- desperate to make some sort of sound, but Carol placed her hand over his mouth, cupping his face in an attempt to silence him. "Shhh- Jamie, shhh please, you're ok they can't get us in here."

"They found us." he breathed out the words.

[thatseventiesbitch]

Hi I really love your writing for That 70’s show and also That 90’s show! If it would be possible could you do one where Hyde visits Eric and Donna in the 90s? I don’t buy that he would never talk to any of them ever again, at least not the Formans and Donna. They were his family 🥹

Thank you so much anon! 💗 I share those thoughts about Hyde. I like to imagine that he finally made it to New York and is finding success and (hopefully) happiness there. It was harder to stay connected to the people we love before cell phones and social media, but I think Hyde would always stay in touch with The Formans in his own ways. You'll see my take on it below - this was actually my first time writing Hyde in the '90s!

If you have a writing request, you can send it to me here.

--

"Hey." Donna knocked twice on the open door and then poked her head in their home office. Eric was hunched over his desk, grading some papers in the final, fading hours of a quiet Tuesday night. "Hyde just called. He's about fifteen minutes away."

"What?" Eric sat up straight in his chair, startled. He leafed a hand through his hair with a hasty sigh. "Why does he always do this?"

Donna didn't answer him, she just shrugged.

Hyde lived in New York now, and his visits back to the Midwest were sporadic and often unannounced, just like this. But once or twice per year he'd blow through Chicago, usually calling them from a gas station a few minutes before he'd arrive. He didn't come for holidays and he didn't like you to make a fuss over him. He never stayed the night, or even long enough for a meal. He'd spent so little time at their house that Eric marveled that he even remembered their address - but he did. Because he never missed a birthday, there was always a card or a call. Even for Leia. His goddaughter. They'd only met a handful of times, but Hyde seemed to remember every detail Eric had ever told him about her - about her grades in school, her pet bunny's name, that she'd started Brownies this year, when she'd broken her arm.

In return, Eric and Donna knew shockingly little about Hyde's life.

He still worked with W.B., running Grooves. The business was successful - extremely successful. Multimillion dollar level successful. But Hyde never liked to talk about it.

"Pshh," he'd swat the questions away. "Work. Boring."

He didn't like to answer questions about his personal life, either. Who he was dating, what kinds of fun things he got up to in New York, about the different places he traveled for work.

"You don't want to hear about that stuff," he'd insist, swatting at their questions like flies. Pushing them away. Keeping them out.

"We do," they'd try to tell him. "We care about you. Tell us about your life."

But he'd give them that same easy-going smile he always had. "Nothing to tell, man."

He pulled into the driveway tonight in a small, taupe coupe. Eric stood at the front porch watching for him, and he grinned immediately as his old friend stepped from the vehicle and ambled up the front walk, clutching his belt buckle. His hair was cut shorter (to hide some pattern balding) and his face showed some signs of age too, but his gait and his energy was the same he'd had as a teenager.

Eric jerked his chin at the car. "That must be a rental, huh?" The car wasn't at all Hyde's style.

"I asked for a Pick-up and they hand me the keys to this fuckin' thing," Hyde shook his head, bemused, as he reached Eric. The two men didn't hesitate - they embraced in a hug for a long moment before pulling back, clapping each other on their shoulders.

"Wow Hyde. New look for you?"

Donna had joined them on the porch, and she pointed to the coupe teasingly. Hyde shook his head, and they hugged, too.

"Temporary digs, man. I'm on a layover. Gotta get back to O'Hare in like," he glanced at his wristwatch. "Forty minutes."

"Uh, then you should leave now," Eric joked.

Donna grabbed Hyde's arm, though. "No! Hyde, my god. When's the last time we saw you?"

"It's been awhile," he agreed, smoothing a hand over the hair on his chin.

They moved inside the house, and Hyde glanced around. It was small, modest compared to the luxury apartment he must've lived in, but if he was unimpressed with the space he gave no indication. Instead he smiled faintly at the photos on the front wall - of Red and Kitty with Leia, Eric and Donna on vacation last year, and one of the whole extended family at the Forman's house for Christmas. He paused in front of one of the gang - it was an old photo, from high school. That night they'd all gone to that stupid disco. Hyde stared at it for a long moment and looked like he might say something, but instead he cleared his throat.

Eric and Donna were both looking at him intently. He glanced around them.

"Where's the kid?"

"She's asleep." Donna nodded towards the stairs, indicating one of the upstairs bedrooms. "It's almost ten o 'clock on a school night."

"Right." He dropped his gaze to the floor. "How about the john?"

"Down the hall," Eric pointed it out. Hyde nodded gratefully, and slipped off to use the bathroom. When he returned to the kitchen a few moments later, only Eric was there.

"You want a beer?" Eric offered him, unsurely. Hyde shook his head, no. "Pop? Water?" No again. "Okay." He nodded to the kitchen table. "You want to sit?"

"I only have a few minutes," Hyde said, but he pulled out one of the chairs and so Eric did the same.

"I know," he assured him. "I'm - I'm glad you came."

Hyde gave a half-shrug in acknowledgement. "So. How are things?"

Eric shrugged too. "They're... good. Fine. The same." He lifted his eyebrows. "You know - my mom pretty much covers it all in her Christmas Card letter, so..."

"Yeah," Hyde smiled, studying his hands. "I love reading that every year."

"Very thorough."

"Yeah."

Eric cleared his throat. "Have you talked to her and Red lately?"

Hyde moved his head from side-to-side. "From time to time."

Eric gave him a meaningful look. "You know man, she'd love it if you did that a little more often."

Hyde scoffed. "Give me a break, Forman." He lifted his eyebrows at his old friend. "How often do you talk to your parents? Huh?"

Eric paused, considering the question. "From... time to time," he admitted sheepishly.

"That's what I thought."

"Okay," Eric grinned down at the table. "So we could both call Mom more. Got it..." He glanced up at Hyde, who was also smiling. "But, hey. You could come visit more. For real, not for," he gestured around them, "Whatever this is."

"This is a layover," Hyde supplied snarkily.

"To where?"

"Flying to London. Business."

Eric gaped at him. "Okay, that is so cool."

Hyde shook his head. "Whatever - "

"No. You know where I'm going tomorrow?"

"It's whatever, Forman - "

"To a high school, where I'll teach math at a bunch of ninth graders who don't want to learn it all day. And then I'll sit in traffic for forty-five minutes in my piece-of-crap car to get home to this middle class monstrosity," he gestured around them at the gaudy floral wallpaper and their outdated kitchen appliances. He blinked at Hyde again, awed. "Waking up in London - every day being different - God. Your life sounds so cool."

Hyde slid his chair back abruptly, and he stood up.

"Really not that cool, man."

Eric swallowed. "Sorry. I just - I meant - "

"It's fine, man," Hyde assured him, his cool, suave persona back just as quickly as it had disappeared. "I know what you meant." His easy-going smile was back now. "And I just mean that I hope you know what a great thing you have going here." He tipped his chin down sincerely. "You have it made, Forman. You know that, right?"

"I know that," Eric assured him. He was studying his oldest friend thoughtfully. "Hey man, do you ever think about, you know. Settling down?"

Hyde wore a bemused expression. "Ain't built for that, Forman," he finally answered him, gruffly, but his voice held some affection too.

"Says who?" Eric asked, softly.

"Lots of people." He cleared his throat, and picked up his jacket, turning his body slightly away. He was shutting this subject down, just like he always did when Eric started to get too close. Not physically. Emotionally.

"Come on," Eric insisted, following him towards the front door. "When you get home from your trip - from London. Who's waiting for you at home. Huh?"

"No one. And get this, man: that's the way I like it."

Eric frowned. "It must get pretty lonely," he said softly.

"Loneliness," Hyde held up one hand. "Or freedom?" He held up the other, and moved them up and down like they were scales he was balancing. "It's a fine line." They stood out on the front porch again, the soft sounds of the sleepy city street surrounding them.

"Okay," Eric said finally, but his expression must've said something else because Hyde sighed.

"Don't worry about me, Forman."

"I won't."

"I mean it. I'm fine."

"I'm not worried."

But Hyde still looked at him skeptically. "I can see it in your puppy dog eyes. Don't get all after-school-special on me, Forman. I'm not one of your lost kids," he warned.

Eric put his hands up defensively. "I'm just wondering when we're gonna see you again. That's all."

Hyde scratched his beard. "Not sure," he admitted.

"You gonna be in London awhile?"

He gave a noncommittal shrug.

"But you'll be back, right?" Eric's voice tightened with anxiety, and Hyde chuckled at his transparency.

"I'll be back," he promised, doing a poor imitation of Schwarzenegger's Terminator. Eric visibly relaxed, and the two men shared a brief glance before they embraced again. "I'll always be back," Hyde added, softer.