#if you didn't get into at least two or three new bands from their openers last tour you missed out and it's a great opportunity!

[raytorosaurus]

i love when mcr themselves are like PLEASE GOD LISTEN TO A MORE DIVERSE RANGE OF ARTISTS. SUPPORT INNOVATIVE BANDS. in big flashing lights and some ppl are like huh i wonder who that's for

[weird-is-life]

rockstar!peter finding readers ig and following her or smth

Hiii, lovely🥰ty for this cute request, I'm sorry it took so long, sorry this is not very good lmao. Warnings: mentions of alcohol, Peter is a hopeless (and dramatic) romantic, swear words, fluff, (0.8k)

Peter doesn't even remember the last time he had a real, serious crush on somebody. Like rockstars probably shouldn't even have crushes like that. His band mates would joke that it's very unrockstar-like.

But.....

Peter is and always has been a hopeless romantic. Even before the band's fame had started to rise. So it's safe to say that Peter is down bad.

When you don't text him after one day and then two days and then three days, Peter goes insane.

He ends up thinking that you either read his letter and ignored it or that you threw the paper away. In his hopeful spirits, he chooses to believe in the latter option.

And that's how he somehow ends up scrolling through the endless hashtag of the concert. He hopes that you or at least one of your friends tagged a photo or a video or something so he can somehow text you.

After what feels like endless search Peter almost gives up. He searches all the possible hashtags of the event, and doesn't find anything.

He gets close to just throwing his phone across the room, and leaving it there when he finally finds you.

It's you. But the photo isn't under any hashtags. The venue where the concert was held reblogged your friends post, and that's how Peter found it.

It's a photo of you and your two friends smiling big in front of the main stage. You look as pretty as Peter remembers, but something else catches his attention.

You are wearing the shirt. His shirt! And somehow Peter's stomach does some things that he didn't even think were possible. Butterflies only get worse as he looks at the picture again.

To Peter's insane luck your friend did tag you in the photo, but..... You have a private profile.

"Shit," Peter groans loudly. He doubts you will accept his request if you have indeed ignored the paper.

He contemplates whether he should just move on or whether he should click the request button.

Peter doesn't get the choice to decide as he accidentally clicks on the request button with a part of his hand. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he quickly locks the phone, and throws it away from him.

"She's gonna block me," Peter murmurs to himself, and runs his hands through his hair in frustration. Peter puts his face in his palms in despair, praying that the earth would just swallow him.

Peter doesn't know how long he stays in that position until a loud sound of a new notification bolts him upright.

He reaches for his phone with a slightly shaky hands. He manages to unlock his phone on like a fourth try after saying to himself, " fucking hell, Peter. Get it together."

The notification indeed came from you. You accepted his request along with a text.

The text says, "Did you give me a fake number?" You ask with an attached picture of the paper he gave you.

Peter's heart literally stops. He feels like such an idiot, like the biggest idiot that has ever walked this Earth actually.

No, he didn't give you a fake number. And no you didn't ignore his letter. And no you didn't throw the paper away.

Peter just doesn't seem to know his own phone number. Stupid stupid stupid. I guess, Peter in such a hurry to write that letter for you wrote one number from his phone number wrong.

Peter doesn't think he has ever written a text as quickly as he has now. He types an apology along with the correct phone number, and hopes you will forgive him and his poor memory.

He notices that you open his text, but you don't respond. He waits for your response for like 5 minutes (loosing his shit may I add), already thinking that you are gonna ghost him.

But of course, you aren't. You thought that Peter, a huge upcoming rockstar, gave you a fake number just to mess with you.

So when you finally tried sending him a message, and it didn't send through, you were gutted to say the least. You drank your silly little crush away with your two best friends and a bottle of wine.

Already thinking of how much a fool you've been for thinking that he'd actually give his number to you.

So to say the least you definitely didn't expect a follow request from him the morning after.

Still slightly hungover from the wine, you accept the request and send him the texts.

When he responds with an apology, and allegedly the right phone number you are a bit hesitant to message him again.

After thinking it through quickly, you message him," Is this really Peter this time?"

He responds almost immediately with a photo of him having a big smile on his face. More than beyond happy that you aren't ghosting him.

And safe to say that your friends are even more happy once they wake up and hear it. Celebratory wine being opened once again.

And so are you. You are very excited to get to know Peter. And for him to get to know you.

[steddie-island]

I Want Your Midnights

Written for @steddiebingo Countdown to Midnight Prompts: Five, champagne, clothed sex Rating: E | WC: 832 | Tags: Getting together, first kiss, semi-public sex, declarations of love

ao3 | Divider credit

Five!

"Oh god—"

Four!

"Shhh, gonna get caught—"

Three!

"Don't stop—"

Two!

"Never— never gonna stop—"

One!

"I love you—"

They were never going to hear the end of it. They'd slipped out before the ball dropped because Steve had needed to get some fresh air.

Fresh air had turned into sharing a cigarette, had turned into joking about midnight kisses and plans for the new year. That had felt less like joking, though. Steve had known what Eddie's plans were— get the hell out of dodge, hit the road with the band. They had gigs lined up in bars that would have way more than five drunks to appreciate them.

Eddie's alleged crimes made him a target in Hawkins, but in other cities they were something that could draw in a bigger crowd. At least there was one good thing that had come from their fucked up spring break.

Talking about plans made Steve's throat tighten and his sinuses burn. There were no more monsters to fight now that Vecna was gone. Robin had offers from a dozen colleges. The kids were getting older, they didn't need him to be the goddamn babysitter anymore. They didn't need him hanging around, hovering even worse than their parents. They didn't need him—

Eddie had been right there, stepping into Steve's space and resting a cold hand on the back of his neck, snapping him out of it before he could spiral into a full blown panic attack.

"You're not supposed to look so sad on New Year's Eve, big boy. Hasn't anyone ever told you that?"

The weight of Eddie's hand, the familiar scent of his leather jacket and the champagne on his breath, it was too much for Steve to resist.

He'd grabbed the lapels of Eddie's jacket, pulled him in, kissed him just this side of too hard.

Eddie's hand had tightened around Steve's neck, Steve had wrapped both arms around Eddie's shoulders before deepening the kiss with a swipe of his tongue.

Their first kiss tasted like Joyce's champagne. Their second kiss tasted like the promise of new beginnings, like open doors and futures that were different than what had been imagined but that fit a hell of a lot better.

They pulled apart just before they could get a third kiss in.

"C'mon." Eddie had taken Steve's hand, tugged him towards the steps and away from the house, towards Steve's new truck. It didn't offer as much privacy as Eddie's van would have, but they hadn't managed to get that back from Hawkins PD yet.

Still, it was better than getting caught with their dicks in their hands on the front porch.

"We'll freeze to death," Steve had argued.

Eddie had just shot him a grin, turned the truck on and got the heat going. "Not gonna be out here long enough for that to happen anyway."

Cold fingers fumbled to get their jeans open. Steve's stomach jerked when Eddie ran a hand up under his shirt and up towards his chest.

"Fuck—" Steve arched towards Eddie's body as Eddie worked a nipple between his fingers.

"Can't believe I get to touch Steve Harrington's tits on the first date," Eddie laughed against his mouth.

"Tit— what?" Steve huffed out a laugh that turned into a moan. They could talk about that later, when Eddie wasn't sucking a mark against his throat and when he wasn't trying to get his hand into Eddie's jeans.

"Jesus, how'm I s'posed to get at your dick? Your pants are too fucking tight—"

"Are you really complaining?"

"…No."

They had laughed together until their cocks were free. Then Steve was taking them both in hand, stroking them together.

"Jesus— Steve—"

Steve just nodded, tugged Eddie in to kiss him hungrily.

This wasn't the first time that Steve had imagined for them. There were no pillows, no roses, no soft lighting that would let Steve see all of Eddie's scars.

There were just cold hands, fogged up windows, the sounds that Eddie made as Steve worked them both closer and closer to the edge.

Hearing Eddie gasp his name as he spilled over their fists was better than any New Year's Rockin' Eve could ever hope to be.

It was only after, when they'd cleaned up and Eddie was curled against Steve's chest, that Steve got a look at the clock. He smiled and turned to press a kiss to Eddie's forehead.

"You think '87 is gonna be your year?"

Eddie turned his face towards Steve's neck, to kiss the hickey he'd left behind. "Did you mean it? When you said you loved me?"

Steve looked down at Eddie's face. The interior truck lights were off but the moonlight reflected off of the snow lit everything up with bright light. "Yeah. Of course I meant it."

Eddie kissed his jaw and held him that much tighter, pushing back any thoughts about whether he'd said it too fast, too soon.

"Then I think it already is."

[evilbihan]

MK1's Lin Kuei

Can we take a second to talk about how bad the Lin Kuei are at what they're doing in MK1? They're supposed to be this ancient clan of elite warriors with years worth of combat experience and knowledge and skills beyond anyone's comprehension... but they're actually so comedically terrible at their job.

I won't include the teahouse fight in this since it doesn't count because they had to hold back against Kung Lao and Raiden but everything happening from there just contradicts all that the story wants us to believe about the Lin Kuei.

Cage mansion fight

Both Sub-Zero and Scorpion get absolutely destroyed by Johnny (who doesn't even seem to have any special powers in the new era, unlike the old timeline's Johnny). Of course, one might argue that they had to still hold back here since Johnny wasn't an enemy, they were just trying to recruit him and Liu Kang was there too, but it only gets worse from here.

2. The Ying fortress

This is one of the most hilarious scenes in the story mode. "No, you two can't come with us although you effortlessly defeated the three of us before because it takes YEARS to master the art of stealth."

What stealth????

Fast forward to the Lin Kuei trying to get inside the Ying fortress. Surprisingly, they can't make it three steps until they're discovered by Nitara and one of them almost dies because he had to show off instead of climbing the wall efficiently and, most importantly, without raising unnecessary attention.

How did Smoke not consider that a guy floating in mid-air would be spotted from a mile away? You can almost pinpoint the moment his brothers realized it was a mistake to bring him with them.

Not that they're doing much better though. On their way in, the three trigger pretty much every single defense the fortress has to offer. Nitara, Ermac... the guards that show up later on.

In fact, this whole thing couldn't have gone any worse if they had brought a marching band along with them.

Next, we get to see Bi-Han and Kuai Liang sneaking up on Shang Tsung so close behind him I'm pretty sure their footsteps would have given them away. They're completely out in the open, Kuai Liang is not even watching his back. It's surprising they made it this far.

3. Capturing Shang Tsung

As we learn, their plan to capture Shang Tsung is, in fact, nonexistent.

I don't know where their experience and years worth of training suddenly went in that moment, but this scene of them just... jumping out of their hiding spot and running at their enemies full speed with no real strategy behind it was so ridiculous and disappointing to me. It just feels rushed and unprofessional and of course, this not at all thought through maneuver triggers the guards to show up and intervene.

It's such an amateur mistake it makes you wonder why Liu Kang trusted them with this task in the first place.

Somehow, the brothers then get overwhelmed and end up captured themselves. The story really wants us to believe the two of them combined couldn't take on a few guards, but later on Scorpion is able to defeat them alone using the power of plot armor.

While Bi-Han had at least some significant wins against Nitara, Ermac, Quan Chi and Shang Tsung, the story of course forced him to lose in the end, Kuai Liang's losing streak for some reason magically ended the second he left the Lin Kuei and Smoke??? He got to beat up an old lady in a staged fight.

It's sad to see how little the writers care about the Lin Kuei, even with the franchise's most iconic characters both being Lin Kuei in the new era. I will never not be upset about the potential that went to waste here. Smoke didn't even get to be in a single fight, we saw nothing of Bi-Han's strategical genius and cunning and the rest of the Lin Kuei only showed up for the staged teahouse fight. They all deserved so much better.

[postersofleon]

Just Like The Beatles

Being in a band with three men while being a lonely girl would sound difficult, but you all managed to make it work. You four tried to use bonding exercises to avoid issues, which included livestreams with fans or smoked weed in private. When you joking said, you should do that infamous Beatle game in Hamburg. You didn't expect them to accept.

content: smut

notes: afab fem!reader; 'bonding' with the boys; um, i can't explain; luis x leon x chris x you; man on man action; modern au; ooc characters; SMUTTY. like there is no plot at all. minors, i know i can't control you, but... this is a sexual situation. if i say, don't read this, you are stubborn and will still try. I'm trying to finish all my long stuff to not overwhelm myself.

taglist: @argreion

The digital clock counted another minute. All the hotel room heard was the breathing of each member of the group. Luis's brown eyes looked at each of his members. This wasn't gay, right? He took a deep breath, "Do you have your dildo?" He wanted to make sure this was perfect for their dumb new activity of the day.

You groaned softly, "I, I got it." You showed your pink toy to your friends. Leon's cheeks turned a bit red but he stayed focused on the mission. Chris nodded his head as well. "Okay, so, how did the Beatles do it again?" He asked softly.

"Well, it was a masturbating game," Leon mumbled softly, "They jacked their dicks together as they yelled out names. Lennon mentioned Churchill but they still... had to cum."

Yeah, this was basically insane.

You nodded your head and took off your bathrobe, showing at least a bit of your breasts and raised your bottom side of it. "I'm ready, I guess." Luis swallowed when he saw your boobs, "I still don't know how this is bonding exercise." He felt himself just getting hard by seeing his lead singer's breasts.

Chris sighed, "Well, if it weren't for her research the Beatles," He rubbed his thighs and pulled out his limp dick, "And you two bozos accepting it. We could've just done a stupid Tiktok trend."

Leon rolled his eyes, "It sounded like a good idea. You saw what music the Beatles did."

"Yeah, until they broke up." Chris muttered.

Leon pulled out his own half harden dick, "No wonder we don't have girlfriends." Leon looked at everyone half naked side. Your pussy and your dildo slowly rubbing it gently to make it wet. Leon groaned, "Fuck, this is definitely a bad idea."

Luis groaned, "Don't judge, I didn't shave." He showed his and he had a bunch of pubes were just there.

"This is so gay." Leon mumbled.

"Forget it." You said, "Now, we have to figure out how to get properly aroused to play the game."

The four idiots looked at each other. Luis saw Chris's dick and Leon's... and soon your cunt. He gently rubbed his to raise it up. "I'm... I'm really trying, eh." He grunt softly.

You closed your eyes for a second and rubbed your dildo on your tits. You clicked on the end of it, and it began to buzz. You focused the buzzing on your nipples and moved it up and down. Leon, Chris, and Luis were just enjoying the how you looked. Leon's legs opened, and he whined softly as his hips buckled.

Chris's eyes followed how the dildo just played around your body.

"I'm wet." You said.

I'm hard." Luis muttered, trying to keep it nice and steady.

Leon nodded his head as he removed his bathrobe. The trio without shame looked at Leon. Leon was a soft version of hot compared to Chris and Luis. Leon had body hair, but he trimmed most of the guys.

Chris was struggling a bit. He sighed, "I can't." The trio looked up at their leader. "Why not?" You asked. Keeping yourself wet sucked as your fingers began to rub your clit to assure it. Chris groaned, "I just don't jack off a lot. I don't even like watch porn."

Leon, Luis, and you had a guilty look.

"It-it's fine. Let's play, and maybe Chris will get hard from... something." Leon knew either way, Chris will feel it. The dildo entered your hole and pumped the toy in and out. "First name..." You whispered softly.

"Albert Wesker." Leon started easy. Everyone from the band knew Wesker was hot whenever they liked it or not. You pinched your nipples as you focused on the idea of Wesker pumping his dick in you. Leon's hand rubbed his tip and moaned softly until his wrist moved up and down his shaft.

Luis rubbed his happy trail and slowly began and avoided his tip. His pre cum began to bubble from his tip. Even if Chris wasn't masturbating, he had Wesker in mind. Chris began to rubbed gently his thighs to raise himself to play the game. Next name.

"Jill Valentine?" Luis said in a questioning tone. Jill was more taboo than Wesker. They respected her.

You pumped the dildo slower for Jill. "Mm, Jill would be so nice..." The men agreed. Leon's butt clenched a bit; he groaned weakly, trying to catch his breath.

Next name. It was your turn but you were too focused on riding your toy. "Hey, your turn." Chris tried to be the bigger adult, but seeing your body squirm around your body. Your cunt clenching on the pink toy...

"Um," You were forced to think. You saw how your band members were just pumping their dicks, it made your stomach feel weak. Your eyes trailed down how Leon masturbated compared to Chris and Luis.

Chris did it as he made a mission. He wasn't completely relaxing as his hand pumped it over and over. His eyes were hazy. Luis was more loving in a way, his legs were wide and kept nothing hidden. His cock was red and needy, but he kept it more under control.

Leon was groaning and making more noise as he pumped his cock. "C'mon, hurry up..." He moaned.

"Leon..." You moaned back.

Your cheeks burned, but you looked at them. All of them needing them a bit more than expected. In a way, everyone knew the game was over as they stood up and crowded Anya. It wasn't the usually friendly stuff they did. It was focused around lust. Luis kept his cock close your face as he pumped it faster. Luis put gently his tip around your lips and traced them together. He hissed weakly before placing his hot cock inside your mouth.

Leon removed your toy from your cunt and got down his knees and saw his lead singer's wetness pour down. "Chris..." Leon's index finger traced down her pussy lips, Chris went down on his knees as well.

Your eyes wanted to look down, but Luis basically was thrusting his cock in your mouth. Chris and Leon opened your legs and went in. Chris kissed your thighs and Leon lick gave small little licks directly from the hole. Making sure to not make the hotel chair dirty. Well, that was his mind set around it. Leon's free hand was still pumping his cock. All Chris can do is see how they went at it.

Leon's tongue moved around your folds and your pretty hole. Collecting all it can. He grabbed your hips tightly, his hot breath against your cunt as his nose rubbed you. Your hand grabbed Leon's hair and tugged on it hard.

Leon whined softly. Luis didn't even focus at the men at your feet. He caressed your cheeks as you took him in.

Your drool traveled down your tits as you moaned like a pathetic toy. Luis slapped your tits and held them, "Fuck, fuck, si..." He grunted weakly.

Leon looked up at you and noticed all the wetness collecting on your pretty cunt. Chris groaned, "This sucks..." His eyes widen when he saw how Luis had you, "We need a better position." He whispered softly. Luis grinned, "Ye-yeah, I need to keep this mouth on my dick..." Leon pressed his nose on your clit before licking it again.

Luis pulled out. You coughed loudly, finally catching your breath. Chris needed to think fast.

Chris stood up and gently kissed your lips. "Can you handle it?" He whispered softly. Your eyes soften, "I can try." You didn't want neither of them left out. He smiled. Despite being the biggest of the three, he was gentle and knew his strength. Leon was accidentally too rough, he didn't mean to, but his strength came into place.

You were carefully placed on the bed into doggy. It felt embarrassing until you felt Chris slowly press his cock around your folds. In front of you, Luis and Leon's cocks were on your face. Luis caressed the top of your head, "Good thing we don't have a concert tomorrow, huh?" Leon smiled too, "We'll be gentle." You knew could trust your drummer and your base player.

Chris grabbed your hips and slowly began to thrust. He groaned weakly. He gently squeezed your butt. Luis and Leon gently shoved their cock into your mouth. They were expecting a blowjob. Just your mouth on them. You groaned softly when you felt Chris's fingertips hold your hip tightly. Luis groaned softly, "Leon, I think we have to handle it ourselves."

Leon whined softly. Luis kissed your lips, "When Chris is done, it'll be our turn." Luis sighed softly, "It's going to end up gay."

"Actually, like Marlon Brando," Leon said, "He slept with men and women to ease himself." Luis sighed softly, "I can't believe we are the same age."

Leon rolled his eyes until he felt Luis's lips on his. Chris thrusted deeper into you, pinning you as he pushed you arched back down. Chris groaned softly as his large arms held your waist. Chris kissed your cheek, his dick was slamming in and out of you. Luis and Leon were just happily making out on the bed in front of you. You gasped weakly once Chris rubbed your clit as he kept and kept going. Your squirmed a bit, kicking your feet a bit, "Chris!" You yelped loudly. Chris rubbed your clit faster, "Sa-save that voice."

You whined loudly, you couldn't take it anymore.

It was too simulating. Seeing Leon's and Luis's cock drag against each other. Bumping into each other. Chris's own cock pumping you, your kicked around, "Chris..." Chris grabbed you and sat you up. His hands grabbed your hips as he moved you up and down.

Leon and Luis were in their own heaven as they gently kissed. Luis' hand caressed Leon's hips and pulled him closer, Luis grabbed Leon's blond hair and pulled him close. Leon moaned softly, his eyes fluttered a bit trying to see Luis, but his mind was stuck on the kiss. Leon pumped their dicks together with the pace Chris had in you. Luis cursed weakly, his hips moved up a bit trying to feel more of Leon.

Your toes curled up, your back arched that specific way and it was takeaway on Chris's actions. Chris rubbed gently your stomach, "C'mon... Luis and Leon need you like I do..." Your eyes weakly looked at how their tips' pre-cum were sticking together. "Mm, need..." You whispered softly. You wanted to choke on them, but you weren't thinking clear and Chris knew so. "Later." His fingers rubbed your clit again, little by little it went faster and faster. Until you released. Your cunt clenched around Chris's cock and attempted to squeeze all of him, but Chris thought it double and wore a rubber. Even Luis and Leon made a mess on Luis's stomach, they all gasped for air for a bit.

You laid on the bed, and Chris held you from the back. Luis and Leon soon followed. Holding each other tightly to give comfort. Luis groaned softly, "So, now what? Is this part of our bonding now?" Guess the Beatles were kind of right.

[avatar-anna]

Unknown Number Part 2

the long anticipated part two to unknown number. enjoy!

Part Three is now up!

italics: y/n (unknown number)

bold: harry

(one day later)

HS: Hey, I haven't heard from you. Is everything okay?

HS: I know you're busy and everything, but maybe you feel differently after us talking?

HS: It doesn't have to be different. We can go back to just texting I don't mind.

(one day later)

HS: You're not avoiding me are you?

HS: June?

(one day later)

HS: I don't know what I did, but whatever it is I'm sorry.

HS: But I'm starting to get worried. Are you okay? Like safety wise? Cold shoulder I can take but I would feel awful if you were hurt or in danger or something?

HS: Can you at least let me know you're alright?

J is typing...

(twenty minutes later)

J: i'm fine

HS: Good!

HS: Did I do something?

J: no i just think i was served a cold dose of reality a couple days ago

J: sorry for disappearing on you

HS: It's okay.

HS: Would you be more comfortable if we just went back to texting?

J is typing...

J: maybe

HS: Maybe?

J: i...like the sound of your voice

HS: You do, do you? ;))

J: don't be smug!

HS: I'm not, I swear!

HS is typing...

HS: I like the sound of your voice too.

(later that evening)

Y/n stared down at her phone and wondered if she was the biggest asshole on the planet.

She was never supposed to know who H was. Sure, she'd thought about it, had stayed up for hours thinking about who might be on the other side of their conversations. But it was all guessing and daydreaming. Y/n never actually thought she'd figure it out. Or that H would stand for Harry. As in Harry mother fucking Styles.

The person Y/n had been texting wasn't some serial killer or internet troll or some random person. He was one of the most popular names in pop culture right now. And not only that, they were in the same vicinity for the next few months while Five Seconds of Summer opened for One Direction.

When she heard H's voice, when she realized H was Harry, Y/n ran. She high-tailed it back to the tour bus, shooting a quick text to One Direction's stylist to tell her she wasn't feeling well and if she could take care of her band. Y/n pretended to be sick for a couple days while she hid on the tour bus. No one questioned it, but she did feel a little guilty for not doing the job she was paid to do.

But what was she supposed to do? The potential for running into Harry was extremely high. Y/n had no idea what she would do if they spoke and he came to the same realization as she had. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to handle the disappointment on Harry's face when he saw her and knew.

Pursing her lips, she typed out a new message.

(ten minutes from the last text)

J: do you ever think about us meeting?

(five minutes later)

HS: All the time.

J: you do?

HS: Of course. I mean it's hard not to.

J: do you...think you'd ever be disappointed by meeting me?

HS: Uh no?

HS: Is there a reason for this line of questioning?

J: no not really. just curious

HS: Somehow I feel like that's not true.

J: i don't know

J: i'm not sure why i'm in my head about this it's not like we'll actually meet

HS: You really think that?

J: do you think we ever would?

HS: I don't know.

HS: But I think I'd like to. One day.

J: you don't even know me!

HS: I do though!

HS: And you know me too!

HS: Where is all of this coming from?

J: i just think we should be realistic

J: i texted you by accident and we've become like modern day pen pals or something

HS: So you...don't want to meet me? Ever?

J: it's not about want it's about practicality. i just don't think talking about us in that way is smart

HS: You brought it up!

HS: And what do you mean by us?

(fifteen minutes later)

HS: Oh, so you're gonna ignore me now? Real mature.

HS: You're the one who brought all of this up you know.

HS: But you're probably right. I know I've been bothering you, but I think you had the right idea. I think we need a little space.

(one day later)

Harry was unreasonably irritated. Angry didn't seem like the right word, but nothing about his situation was normal.

June was technically right. This whole thing was ridiculous and nonsensical and completely impractical. There was no scenario where they would ever meet or...

Harry couldn't even think about it. Thinking about June like that...thinking about June at all outside of their messages was stupid. He didn't need to be thinking about her, about anyone that way.

So why was he so frustrated?

Maybe it was that June wrote him off so quickly and seemingly out of nowhere. It wasn't like they ever needed to talk about the obvious, which was that they'd probably never meet despite the fact that he'd grown fond of her. Harry was perfectly content to talk about whatever popped into his head or June's latest Tinder date—though that topic was slowly starting to grate on Harry for reasons he refused to admit. Now it was a jumbled mess.

With his head bent, Harry walked toward craft services. He pulled out his phone, looking at past conversations and willing himself not to send another one. June hadn't responded to him since his last message, and he wasn't sure how to feel about it. On the one hand, it was what he'd asked for, but he still was itching to talk to her. Harry had grown used to expecting a quick response, had enjoyed June's wit and charming personality with each message she sent.

And now it was all weird and Harry's emotions were all over the place.

"Oof! Hey, watch where you're going!"

Harry glared down at the young woman who'd bumped into him—or who he'd bumped into, but he was too caught up in his own world to realize it. The young woman's eyes widened in shock as she stepped away from him. She opened her mouth as if she was about to speak, but nothing came out. Maybe a little squeaking.

He'd seen her around before, but not much. Honestly, these days Harry was usually holed up somewhere on the bus or at the venue texting June. But he'd seen the back of her head as she scurried around, or at a table on her own during lunch as she scrolled on her phone. He was pretty sure she was Five Seconds of Summer's stylist, but he didn't know for sure.

Raising his eyes at her expectantly. Harry waited for her to say something. "Sorry," she said, barely said. She was so quiet, Harry could hardly hear it. She looked scared of him, which made him feel bad. He was in a mood, but he didn't want to make anyone feel terrified of him, and this girl looked like she was about to cry.

He tried to apologize, but she scurried off before he could. Harry watched her go and sighed. He couldn't wait to get onstage and forget about June and the texts and all the ways she made him feel things he wasn't supposed to feel.

(later that night)

HS: Are we okay?

J: i don't know

J: i think so

HS: I feel like I'm going crazy.

J: how so?

HS: All I've been able to think about is our last conversation. I don't want to not talk to you.

HS: Can I admit something?

J: of course

HS is typing...

HS: I want to hear your voice again.

(five minutes later)

HS: You know, for the first time I think I actually kind of sounded like a creep.

HS: I didn't mean it in a creepy way I promise.

J: i know what you meant

J: in every other circumstance it would raise a red flag

HS: But this time?

J: i think i just want to hear your voice again too

HS: Yeah?

J: i'm not going to say it again to boost your ego

HS: :((

J: you know, you say all the time that you don't date, but i have a feeling you like having your ego fluffed

HS: Who doesn't?

J: attention whore. that's what you are!

HS: That was mean >:(

J: i would like to make it known that i'm sticking my tongue out right now

HS: I'm flipping you off!

(five minutes later)

J: so we're okay?

HS: Yeah. We're okay.

(one day later)

J: are boys always filled with energy?

HS: I would say 90 percent of the time. Why?

J: my clients are just...a lot sometimes

J: very nice but a lot

J: like the brothers i never asked for

HS: Aw. Are they getting on your case about your bad taste in men now too?

J: you're not as funny as you think you are

J: and maybe

J: they tease me about the constant beeping of my phone. they want to know who i'm texting all the time

HS: And what do you say?

J: that i'm texting my boyfriend

J: i feel like it keeps them at bay

HS: Boyfriend huh?

J: oh hush

HS: Don't tell anyone, but I like the sound of that.

J: don't tell anyone but i do too

(two minutes later)

J: i feel like we're wandering into dangerous territory here

HS: Maybe.

HS: I'm not as bothered about it as I thought though.

J: no?

HS: Are you?

HS: Sorry. You don't have to answer that.

J: that's ok. i just don't know how i feel

J: not a cop out just the truth

HS: I believe you. Will you tell me when you do know?

J: of course

(later that night)

J: how does one acquire a new mother?

HS: Typically through divorce.

J: that won't work. my parents are miserable people together. kindred spirits

HS: what did she do this time?

J: it's stupid

HS: Not if it made you upset.

(ten minutes later)

HS: June?

J: sorry i was crying

HS is typing...

(one minute later)

Y/n's eyes widened at the incoming phone call on her screen. She knew she shouldn't have told him she was upset, but she needed someone to talk to, and somehow H had become the person she confided in.

Even then she didn't expect Harry to call her.

Hesitantly, Y/n picked up the phone. "H—Hello?"

"Why were you crying, June?"

"I'm fine, H, I promise—"

"No, you're not. I can still hear it in your voice. What's wrong?"

"I..." Was their first conversation really going to be her crying to H about her family drama? Y/n knew perfectly well that he probably had a million other things he could be doing. She was aware that both bands typically went out after shows. The boys of Five Seconds of Summer had tried to persuade her to go out numerous times, but she had yet to take the bait. Y/n was perfectly happy to lay in her bunk and text H, who she now realized might have been in a bunk of his own a couple buses over. The thought made her stomach feel fluttery and nauseous at the same time.

"My mom posted on Facebook about one of my cousins who just got married," Y/n explained. "And she said, or commented, or whatever that she was, 'so happy' and 'so proud' of the 'daughter she always wanted.'"

"Oh, June, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, I swear it's fine," Y/n insisted, but even as she said it, she felt more tears begin to leak from her eyes. "I knew she was disappointed. Marriage is a huge deal in my family, and I didn't want—She called her the daughter she always wanted. What kind of mother says that?"

Y/n knew she was something of an outcast in her family, but she never thought her mom would say something like that, and so publicly. Facebook was her family's way of staying connected. This was a message for her entire extended family, not just Y/n.

"June, I—I don't even know what to say. That's horrible," H said.

"And you know what's the worst part?" Y/n asked. "Deep down I can't help but wonder if I should just settle down and get married like she wants me to because really, what am I doing here? I've been trying to make my way in this industry, but at what cost? My family has all but disowned me, I hardly have any friends because I live in a new town that just eats up my meager paychecks, and—"

"Hey," H said gently. "Do you really think you'd be happier back home with...with a husband at, what? 22?"

Y/n sniffled and rubbed her eye. "Probably, not, but—"

"And do you want this?" he asked.

"I thought I did."

"June. Do. You. Want. This?" he repeated.

He was the only person Y/n would admit it to. "I...I really do, H."

"Then go for it," he said. "I believe in you. In a year or two, everyone is going to want to work with you. You'll be the one turning people down."

"If only."

"Hey, that's not the voice of a confident woman. I need to hear confidence."

"H—"

"No, I need confidence. I can't be the only one believing in you here," H said, which made you smile despite the tear stains on your cheeks. "Do you need me to shout it? Because I will. Don't think I won't."

Y/n tried to stop him, but H proceeded to shout—to whom, she wasn't sure—that she was the best stylist and that she was the coolest person he knew and all sorts of nonsense that made her giggle and continually tell him to shut up.

"Okay. That's enough! Harry, that's—"

She stopped immediately. It was a slip of the tongue. Y/n had gotten caught up in the moment and his name just...it just came out. Her heart stopped and her hands began to shake, nearly making her drop her phone in her lap.

Y/n prayed that he missed it, that amidst all the laughing and shouting, H didn't hear it. But the minute his name left her lips, it was dead quiet.

"How do you know my name?" he asked. His voice wasn't lighthearted anymore. It was stone cold, closed off.

"I...I don't—"

"You do. You just said Harry. How do you know me? Have you known the whole time?"

"No! I didn't—I don't—"

"I can't believe this. I can't believe that I...that I let myself fall for this. You—You lied!"

"I didn't lie! I swear, I never—I never knew anything until..."

"Until what?" he shouted, and you flinched.

What was she supposed to say? That they were on tour together? Harry would definitely think she stalked him then. He was so angry, there was no way he would listen to reason right now.

"Until what, June?"

"I'm so sorry," she said, her voice just above a whisper.

"Don't try to contact me again, or I'll call the police," he said harshly before hanging up.

Y/n could only stare down at her phone in disbelief.

(two days later)

Y/n decided to spend her days perusing thrift stores. Hiding, really.

Her first-ever clients as a stylist were pretty low-maintenance. When she met them for the first time and saw their scuffed-up sneakers and ripped jeans, Y/n knew she wouldn't be stretching her creativity pretty far. But her job was to find clothes that represented her clients' image, which was exactly what she did.

While everyone else on tour was doing who knew what, Y/n went to local thrift stores in search of vintage t-shirts and good quality jeans that would be easy to move around him. One time, she came back with a pair of gorgeous leather boots that she thought would be perfect for Luke, but he said outright that he wouldn't wear them. Boys, honestly.

It wasn't much, but they appreciated when she came back with cool band and graphic shirts. She sewed up holes and ripped new ones when she was asked. Y/n felt like Snow White sometimes, and the boys were her dwarfs, but they were nice and funny and kept her distracted, which she needed right now.

She was in a small thrift store in Oregon, a couple pieces on her arm—two flannels, a baseball tee, a t-shirt with Kurt Cobain on it, and a couple leather bracelets. Now that she'd been on tour with the wonderful members of Five Seconds of Summer, Y/n had an idea of what each member liked. They had very similar styles and often shared the clothes she picked out for them—which honestly made her life easier considering her smaller-than-small budget.

But she still thought about H, of course she did. There were times when she felt compelled to go up to him at the concert venue, or even his tour bus, but she feared that would just make things worse. He already thought she was a stalker, she wasn't going to make it worse by just...appearing right in front of him.

She didn't know what to do, but not doing anything made her heart hurt. Not talking to him made her heart hurt. Y/n couldn't believe that this was how their text friendship turned out. Of all the ways she imagined this thing ending, having Harry block her number and him virtually hating her.

"Just this today, hun?" the woman behind the counter asked when she brought the clothes up.

Y/n nodded. After her major slip up, she hadn't done much talking. She felt like a ghost, floating from place to place without a word until she could go back to her bus bunk and look at old messages. Y/n didn't really want to be on this tour anymore, but she couldn't bring herself to quit. She didn't have the energy.

Back at the new concert venue, Y/n went to the boys' dressing room. They crowded around her as she showed them the shirts and bracelets. "I can cut up the sleeves on some of them if you want," she said quietly.

"Really?"

"That'd be awesome!"

"Maybe a couple holes around the neck?"

"Do you think you could write 'IDIOT' on this one?"

Y/n had only been half-listening, but she looked over at Michael with her brows raised when he said that. "You want me to write what?"

"I don't know, I think it'd be cool. Don't you?"

All four of them looked to her at that. Since the tour started, the boys went to her for fashion advice. That was technically her job, but it felt like she suddenly had four younger brothers.

"Y—Yeah. Very punk rock. I'll get on that right now."

"You're the best, June!"

"I could kiss you!"

"Please don't," she said, shoulders tensing when they all squeezed her.

The four boys left her alone in search of food—because they were always hungry—and Y/n got to work. Or tried to. She was alone for all of two seconds before the door slammed open.

"Really? You fucking stalked your way onto this tour?"

It was the first time Y/n had seen Harry since the one time she bumped into him in the hallway a few days ago. Y/n thought he'd looked irritated then, but he looked downright furious now. His face was red and mouth turned into an angry frown. Y/n tried to speak, but she couldn't. She just kept staring at him, hoping the words to explain would come.

"I—It's not what you think—"

"You're sick! Sick in the head! I'm calling security. I can't believe this," he said, muttering the last part.

Sniffling, Y/n looked down at the clothes she was supposed to fix up for the boys. Her boys, she sometimes thought. She couldn't believe this was actually happening. Harry was in front of her, and he...he was calling security on her.

"You—You don't have to do that," she finally said. When she stood up, Harry stepped away from her. "I'll go. I swear. I know how this looks, and I know you won't believe me, but this is a coincidence. But...I'll go. You don't need to call security. I'll leave."

Y/n grabbed her things and the boys' clothes, not looking at Harry once. She couldn't handle seeing the look in his eyes. But she felt it. His glare burned his skin. She shuffled out of the room, head bent with her things in her hands. On her way out, she bumped into something. Someone.

"Woah, June. Is everything okay?"

It was Luke. He looked concerned, but she couldn't find it in him to explain. "I'm—I'm fine. I'm just going to finish this stuff up on the bus, okay? I'll have it done before the show."

Before he could say anything else, she left, trying to ignore what sounded like an argument starting in the room she'd vacated.

(three hours later)

Y/n was still on the tour bus fixing up the boys' clothes and waiting until it was time for her to leave for the airport. She knew she should've left right away, but she wanted to do this last thing. One last thing, and then she would be gone. It was almost time, and she'd finished cutting up the shirts, now she just needed to write the word 'IDIOT' on Michael's shirt. It was very fitting, Y/n felt like an absolute idiot for ever letting things get this far.

Still, she couldn't help but form a little smile as she sketched out the letters with a pencil. This job wasn't necessarily what Y/n had wanted, but it also wasn't what she initially expected. She liked the 5SOS guys, and she had to admit that there was something adventurous about going to a new city every few days. The point was, she liked it more than she thought she would, and now it was over.

(thirty minutes later)

Harry had been standing in front of the crew's tour bus for ten minutes. He wasn't sure if she was there, and he wasn't sure if he wanted her to be there. But he was standing in front of the bus door anyway, trying to decide if he was going to knock.

He'd been furious. Furious and alarmed and freaked out. When he'd gotten the first text from June, Harry immediately thought that she was some crazed fan who had somehow obtained his number. He slowly realized that wasn't the case, or so he thought. June had been lying this whole time, and not only that, she managed to become a crew member on tour.

When he heard her voice outside Five Seconds of Summer's dressing room, Harry was floored, and then he was scared, and then he was angry. Why couldn't people just leave him alone? It wasn't enough that he performed and gave all these little pieces of himself to the world. Why did everyone expect to give over all of himself?

And he talked to June about that at length, and he thought he was confiding in her, he thought they were sharing with each other. But she was...she was just lying to him.

And yet, she was still June. Months of texting and everything he felt didn't just evaporate because he discovered the truth. She was funny and charismatic and seemed to really like him, and he liked her too. A lot.

It was why he was at the bus. Harry wanted an explanation. He deserved that at least.

It took about a minute for the door to open after he knocked on it. She peeked her head out, watery red eyes surprised, and a little scared, to see him standing there. Mixed emotions flared in Harry's chest at the sight of her. Something squeezed his heart at finally putting a face to all the messages, to the girl he couldn't go more than a day without talking to. June was very pretty with a thick head of hair, high cheekbones, and pouty pink lips. Her nose was red, as if she'd been crying, and the part of Harry that cared about his friend hated seeing her like that, hated to know that this was how their first meeting was turning out. Harry had daydreamed about meeting June for the first time many times. A lot of times. None of his daydreams looked like this.

"Um, I promise I'm leaving. My flight is later tonight, and I just thought—It doesn't matter, I'll go."

Harry had met a good number of crazy fans over the years, and while he knew June was one of them, she seemed rather subdued. Instead of jumping him at any possible moment this entire tour, she minded her business and didn't try to talk to him once. Maybe he was believing in something he wanted to believe, but June didn't seem like the crazy stalker fan that she was.

"I want to talk. I want an explanation," he said.

June nodded, not opening the door any further but reaching her hand through the small crack. "I wrote it all down. I was going to give it to someone to give to you. It was the least I could do."

She didn't even want to talk to him? Was this all just an act to gain his sympathy? There was no way of knowing. If this was all one big con, June was a very good actress.

Harry took the note from June and unfolded it, reading it carefully.

H,

I just want to start off by saying that you have every right to be angry, I understand that I have betrayed your trust. And I have betrayed your trust, just not in the way that you might think.

I found out who you were a few days ago, it was why I was avoiding your texts. I'd overheard you talking to Michael and the other boys in their dressing room. It was right after we'd sent all our voice messages, and I just knew it was you who was behind the door. I couldn't quite believe it.

But I also didn't know how to tell you that I knew. I was shocked and confused...and to be honest I didn't know what to do with the information. I just...wasn't expecting you.

So I kept the secret for a little while I tried to figure out how to tell you, and...Well, you saw how that turned out.

I just want you to know that I had no idea who you were when we first started texting. I truly gave my number to some idiot that I slept with, and by some twist of fate, he gave me your number instead. I didn't want to text you, I didn't want to like you, I didn't...expect to share so much of myself with you. I know this is harder on you for so many reasons, and you are justified in not trusting me, but it was hard for me too. Part of me thought that if I told you and you saw me, really saw me, that you would be disappointed or not impressed or something like that. You mean meant mean a lot to me, and the thought of ruining our tentative friendship by us meeting scared me, so I foolishly thought I could avoid you the rest of the tour.

I'm sorry that you found out the way you did, and I'm sorry it caused you so much emotional pain. I know you probably won't trust anything I've said, but I hope this might help you understand. And with the hope that I don't come off as the obsessed stalker that you already think I am, I really did do like you, and all your secrets are safe with me, as I hope mine are with you.

All my love,

Yours,

Sincerely,

Best wishes,

June Bug

Harry looked read the letter once, then twice, then looked up at June, who was still hiding behind the bus door. It had closed that much more, like she was trying to shut him out.

He knew he had a right not to trust her, and part of him still didn't. But another him was pushing her toward him, drawing him to her. His gut was telling him to hear her out, that she was the June Bug from all of their messages.

His show was in a little over an hour. He had last minute things to do and pre-show rituals to complete, and he knew that people would start looking for him soon. But he didn't want to go.

"Can—Can I come in?" he found himself asking. "To talk?"

June's brows raised, like she wasn't quite expecting Harry to ask her that. Which was a valid thing to think, of course, but now he was hoping she would let him in. Or send him away so they could avoid a difficult conversation.

"Sure. Are you—Are you sure?" she asked him, thick brows furrowing. Harry would've found the wrinkle between them cute if it wasn't for the situation.

Was he sure? "Y—Yes."

Nodding, June opened the door further to let him inside. Harry's hand brushed against hers on his way past her, and she immediately recoiled. He ignored it, and looked down at her for the first time. Really looked at her.

She really was beautiful, there was no denying that. June had a kind face, one that held so much emotion in it. Harry felt like he could read every little feeling as it flitted across her face. And right now, she was looking at him like one word out of his mouth could make or break her. Unable to handle that kind of pressure, Harry focused on a little scar that cut into June's brow.

"Um, so obviously you're familiar with the layout of the bus. Do you want to sit at the couches in the back? Or the tables here, or we could just stand—"

"The couches are fine," Harry said.

“O—Okay. Couches it is."

June turned around and headed for the back of the bus, strands of her hair swishing with each step she took. Harry followed, wondering if he'd just made a huge mistake or was taking a risk worth taking.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

tags: @cookielovesbook-akie @sucker4angstt @l0v3e1i @bellesmith628 @marigold-morelli @obsessedmaggiemay @sophthearthoe

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Hiii

Can you write a one-shot about the idea that you cheated on dave mustaine and he found out? 💋

A/n: I don't know if you wanted this to end in smut or not but it's just angst, who doesn't love angst <3 I also left it at what may be an odd part so if you want a part two I can do that, just let me know what direction you want it to go in <3

Gimme your Dave asks bc every time I write one I’m reminded of how hot he is, it’ll be written between now and six months from now <3 /hj

Warnings: Angst, cheating, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Dave was always so distant. He was cold and never truly seemed to care about you, always putting music first.

You'd ask him to go out every now and then but were always left with an open answer, so you'd go out with your friends. You knew they could be encouraging in some... interesting ways, to say the least, but when you went out for a nice dinner you'd planned months in advance with them instead of Dave, heading out to a nearby bar and hooking up with some guy seemed ok.

You didn't think to much of it, it was one night with some random guy you'd never see again, Dave would never even know.

But then it wasn't just one night.

You found yourself going out, telling Dave you'd be with your friends but you'd be at the bar by yourself. Or rather, at the bar on some guy in the bathroom or a back alley somewhere.

This went for a few months. You promised yourself you'd stop but then Dave went on tour with Megadeth. He never called you. Never sent you anything. There was nothing from him and it infuriated you. So you got yourself all prettied up and went out to find guy of the night.

Dave wasn't home and wouldn't be for a while so you brought him back home to have your fun, and you did.

When you woke up he wasn't there, you figured he'd just gone home but when you went downstairs he was making breakfast. "Oh, no, why'd you come down? I was gonna bring it to you." He had said as he rushed over to you. Dave had never done anything like that.

Not recently.

Sure, maybe it wasn't a constant that he'd been cold and distant. He showed he loved you once upon a time, he'd buy you flowers, show you his favourite bands because he wanted you to like the same things he liked. He took you out to fancy dinners, bought you pretty dresses, did everything a good boyfriend should do.

But it all stopped at some point.

When this new guy started showering you in the attention you'd missed oh so dearly you had to keep it coming in some way.

You let him stay until Dave gave home, making him leave a few days in advance just incase you had the dates mixed up or Dave ended up coming back early. He treated you like a queen, making you food, worshipping your body, doing everything just right.

Doing everything the way Dave used to.

Then Dave came back and it was right back to that cold void walking through the halls of your home. You tried talking to him but he'd just grumble something and leave it there. It was pointless.

Weeks passed and you saw something about Dave change. One day he'd be an exact copy of what he used to be, the next he'd go right back to ignoring you.

You woke up one night alone in bed, odd since Dave was usually a heavy sleeper and never left the bed even if he did wake up.

You checked the time and saw it was past three. Worried, you decided to go looking for Dave.

You heard voices coming from the living room and went to investigate, finding Dave sitting on the couch and anxiously biting the skin around his nails as he stared at the TV.

"What are you doing?" You asked as you came up to him, sitting next to him on the couch. He didn't respond, didn't even look at you. His eyes stayed glued to the TV, a blank expression on his face. "Dave?" Again no response. You huffed and leaned against him, letting your eyes close since you were still tired.

"You cheated on me?" He asked. Your body tensed and your eyes shot open.

"Huh?" Is all you managed to get out.

"You cheated on me." He said, more of a statement now. "Your boyfriend called, asking if you were busy." You inhaled deeply and pulled away from him.

"Oh..."

"Oh?" He asked, finally tearing his gaze away from the TV to look at you. "Is that it?"

You shrugged. "What do you want me to say?"

Dave glared at you before shrugging, sighing before he spoke. "I don't know. Not that, I guess." He mumbled as he looked back to the TV. You reached for the remote and turned it off.

"What do we do now?" Dave said nothing. "Do you want me out?" Nothing. "Dave?" Silence.

You stared at him, waiting for an answer, a reaction. Anything. You wanted him to scream at you, yell at you for what you did, you wanted him to throw things and kick you out.

"Are you serious?" You demanded, all your anger over the past few months, over everything the two of you had been through, over everything he'd done to you, it all boiled up and burst at the surface. "Nothing, you're giving me nothing?"

He didn't even flinch as your voice raised. "I wanted attention! I wanted someone to love me and not care to show it! I wanted more than this cold fucker that showed up randomly and took the man I loved, what happened to him, huh? He let groupies fuck that right out of him? Drugs?"

You stood in front of him and pulled his hand away, the one that was holding his head up. "Answer me!"

Tears rolled down his cheeks though his expression remained the same. You didn't say anything and neither did he, he just kept his gaze forward as more tears fell from his eyes.

You huffed, hands falling to your sides in fists as you stormed off. You were about halfway up the stairs when Dave called out to you. "You love him?" He asked, not even bothering to look at you.

You turned back to him, taking a few steps down to him. "What?"

"I said," his voice was shaking as he spoke, "do you love him?"

You crossed your arms over your chest, eyes flickering around. "I don't know." You answered after a moment, honestly having no idea how you felt about it when you really thought about it.

Silence fell over you again before Dave broke it once more. "Does he treat you right?"

You chewed your cheek. "Better than you do."

"Better than I did?" You paused at that, sighing as you sat down on the steps.

"Better than you do." You repeated.

Dave looked up at you. "I never stopped loving you." He said, wiping his eyes.

"You stopped showing it." You mumbled, with the silence around you he could hear you.

"I was... terrified... for you, me... us." He said. "No one ever loved me like you."

You took in his words, the two of you maintaining eye contact as you thought about it. "Why'd you stop showing it?" You asked.

"I was scared." He said, you shook your head.

"That's not good enough, what did you want to happen?" Now it was Dave's turn to think.

He let out a heavy sigh. "This, I guess."

"You wanted a reason to get out." He paused before nodding. "I gave you one." He gave another nod "So... do you want me out?"

"No." He answered fast. Faster than you expected. Faster than he should've. "Stay, please."

You stood and walked back to him. You stopped in front of him. "What do we do now?" Dave thought for a moment before patting the spot beside him.

"We can fix this." He muttered, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you to his side.

"Should we..?" You didn't want to ask it but you knew you had to. Dave looked down at you, his eyes glassy and a small pout pulling at his lips.

"Please." His voice was no louder than a whisper. Suddenly he wasn't the man you'd known.

He wasn't the sweet guy that bought you flowers for your birthday or other special events or just when he thought of it, he wasn't the man you couldn't recognize as the one you loved who only spoke to you when he needed to. He was a kid who's mother couldn't love him over her religion, he was the kid who's brother-in-law beat him when he was listening to music.

He was innocent and pure and needed love.

Your wrapped your arms around him and pulled his head to your chest so he could cry. You wanted to tell him everything would be fine but you weren't sure it would be, so you just let him cry. And when he started apologizing for things he did and things he didn't you didn't interrupt him, you just forgave him. When he cried over his mom and his dad you let him.

When he cried all his tears and fell asleep against you, you let him. You pulled a blanket over the both of you and held him close, whispering nothing but love in his ears so he slept good even if just for one more night.

[fanficsofthevoid]

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62252565/chapters/159260353

Sonder Eclipse

Summary:

The shorter Angler-Snake gave Grian the exact opposite reaction from what he had been expecting. Its face morphed into what he could only describe as a smile, its mouth didn’t move, but its eyes suddenly squinted heavily, scaley wrinkles piling up at the corners. It looked strangely gleeful.

“You are a fighter then, Deathworlder?”

Grian stayed silent.

“You will get plenty a chance to fight here”. The alien said, and its tone mirrored that of a judge finalizing a sentence.

Or:

Grian was never the type to believe in aliens, as far as he was concerned, anything that he couldn't see, touch, taste, or smell toed the line of conspiracy. However, when he is captured and imprisoned on an alien trafficking ship, it gets just a tad harder to keep his unbelief. Faced with a strange new environment, a strange new cellmate, and the threat of a fighting ring hanging over him, Grian devises a plan to escape. If only his cellmate would start cooperating instead of trying and failing to kill him in his sleep.

Chapter 1: Captured

Grian’s consciousness returned in fragments, like pieces of a shattered mirror reflecting images he couldn’t quite grasp. Cold seeped into his back, making him shiver, and a faint ache pulsed through his head. He reached up, pressing a hand against his forehead.

Or at least.. he would have, if something hadn’t been keeping his hand down.

With an increasing sense of anxiety, Grians eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, all he saw was the blinding white of the ceiling. Then his vision focused.

He was laying on top of a small metal table in an otherwise empty room, the table was cold, and a slight draft brushed through the room, making the hairs on his arms stand up straight.

Grian tried to move, but his body refused to obey. Panic flared as he realized why—his wrists, chest, legs, and neck, were all bound. Grian immediately pulled against the bonds, but they didn't budge. He wasn’t bound with rope or metal; the material felt rubbery and pliable, flexing slightly as he struggled. Worse yet the table he was on was too small for him and it was causing his legs to dangle awkwardly off the end of the table, adding to his discomfort.

Grian tugged harder, his breathing quickening. The restraints stretched under his effort, but before he could pull free, they snapped back, slamming his wrists into the freezing metal. He winced, biting back a yelp of pain.

Where was he? How had he gotten here? He searched his memory, but it was like trying to grasp smoke. Everything before waking up was a hazy blur. He knew who he was, he knew where he was from, but how he got here? Nothing. Grian squinted at the lights, racking his brain.

Flashes of light.

Floating, and then an overwhelming sense of wrong.

He remembered now.

He had been walking home, when he had suddenly been blinded by light. Completely unable to move, he had been lifted into the air, and then after that… nothing.

Grian renewed his struggle against his restraints. He got the distinct impression that whatever reason for him being here, it wasn't benevolent, and he didn't feel like waiting around just to find out.

Grian stretched the bands further, if he could just get it to loosen up he was sure he could get out of these and then he could-

A sound pierced through the silence of the room, breaking Grian out of his thoughts. Faint at first but growing louder. Footsteps. Grian froze, his heart hammering in his chest. Whoever—or whatever—was approaching, he wasn’t ready to face them.

The footsteps stopped just outside the room. A mechanical hiss filled the air as the door slid open. On impulse Grian shut his eyes, forcing his breathing to steady.

Two, no, three pairs of footsteps entered, their movements heavy and deliberate. Grian could hear the shuffle of their feet and the faint rustle of what sounded like fabric—or maybe something harder, like armor. He kept his eyes closed, straining to listen.

A sharp, grating noise split the air, like nails dragging across a chalkboard. It made Grian’s skin crawl, the sound twisting and changing pitch unpredictably. Grian struggled not to move to try and cover his ears from the awful sound. The grating stopped, replaced by a new voice, a low, guttural warble. The sound resonated through the room, deep and primal, like the bellow of an unseen predator. Grian’s heart pounded, his breath catching in his throat, and unbidden, his muscles tensed, and ever so slightly, he flinched.

The voices fell silent.

They’d noticed.

A faint, clicking noise—almost like the chitter of insects—broke the stillness. One of them moved closer. Grian kept his breathing steady, every muscle in his body screaming at him to run, to fight, to do anything but lie still.

A short click, nails on chalkboard again, then, in perfect English, “Open your eyes, Deathworlder, we know you’re awake”.

The voice was throaty, like a seasoned smoker who hadn’t drank water in years, and Grian cringed in on himself at the unnatural sound. Whatever that thing was should not be speaking like a human.

There’s no use in hiding now.

Grian wrinkled his nose as he opened his eyes, squinting at the bright lights above him. His vision focused on three figures in front of him; the tallest was only about Grians own height at best, but their unnatural appearances completely killed any amusement he could have felt at their height.

To his right, two figures loomed over him. One close to his height and the other, hunched over and about a foot shorter. His gaze was drawn to the tall one first.

It was an awful sight.

It struck him as a humanoid mix of an anglerfish and a snake. The thing was absolutely covered in greenish black scales that trailed over its back and shoulders, moulding to rippling muscle and a pale white underside. The combination of dark green and just about clear white, gave a feeling of illness to the creature that made Grian lean away.

His gaze trailed up towards its face and made eye contact with two pale bulbous eyes that stared straight at him. They had no pupils and there were no eyelids in sight. Then there was its mouth, thousands of sharp, needle-thin teeth, gleamed under sickly pink gums that sagged off its face.

Grian shuddered, resisting the urge to hide his face from that thing.

A glance at the shorter one told him they must be the same species. It was much the same as the first, but its gums were more grey, and it had strange markings on its face, as if the scales there had decided to lose their color.

Lastly, to his left Grian could vaguely see the top of the head of something else standing near the table he was lying on. It wasn’t tall enough for him to see fully without craning his head, and since Grian’s neck was strapped down, there wasn’t much he could do about that. He could tell though that it was shifting back and forth, turning towards the other two creatures before turning to him again, darting around in indecision.

A voice suddenly broke the silence, and Grian suppressed a flinch.

“Cooperate and we won’t sedate you again”, the shorter Angler-Snake thing said, and it was the same throaty voice from before.

“What—what is this? Where am I? What do you want from me?�� Grian said, his mouth full of cotton. Then, with false confidence, “Just try and sedate me, I swear you’ll regret it”.

The other two creatures backed away, obviously alarmed, but the shorter Angler-Snake gave Grian the exact opposite reaction from what he had been expecting. Its face morphed into what he could only describe as a smile. Its mouth didn’t move, but its eyes suddenly squinted heavily, scaley wrinkles piling up at the corners. It looked strangely gleeful.

“You are a fighter then, Deathworlder?”.

Grian stayed silent.

“You will get plenty a chance to fight here”. The alien said, and its tone mirrored that of a judge finalizing a sentence.

The Angler-Snakes smile abruptly dropped off its face, and it turned to the other creatures with a glare. With a grating noise from the short Angler-Snake that sounded something akin to a command, the tall one pulled out a long black stick from its belt. They then started to untie Grian, twisting the rubber ropes in some complicated pattern until the ropes suddenly snapped back and receded into the table, leaving the table looking as if the ropes had never been there in the first place.

Grian sprung up immediately, lunging for the larger Angler-Snake, but before he could get within two feet of it, it jabbed Grian with the prongs of the black stick and Grian blinked and he was on the floor.

Rivers of pain flowed through him as the stick shocked him repeatedly, it was all he could do not to pass out right then and there. His body convulsed on the floor and he struggled to breath. When it finally ended, Grian lay there, gasping, he stared up at the alien, not processing anything but the way his muscles kept twitching with aftershocks. Finally getting some air, Grian scrambled to sit up. He felt extremely vulnerable, laying on the floor below the Angler-Snakes.

Grian looked up just in time to see the shorter Angler-Snake cuff the taller over the head, grating out some sort of insult as the taller fiddled with something on its stick. Once satisfied, it then returned its stick to pointing straight at Grians head.

“Get up”, the short Angler-Snake ordered, all traces of interest gone, and Grian did, biting back a hiss at the pain of standing up.

The Angler-Snake with the stick prodded Grian with the butt of it, forcing him towards the door.

As Grian stumbled forwards, the door gave another hissing noise, and opened into a dimly lit hallway. To his right the hallway continued to travel off and out of sight, the lights flickering down into darkness. Grian carefully noted the many doors lining the hall. He then turned to his left and almost screamed.

Three more Angler-Snakes were skulking in the hallway, standing so still that he hadn’t even noticed them.

Pale eyes stared at him unblinking, and Grian felt a shiver go down his spine. He gulped and squared his shoulders, trying to hide his fear, and to his shock, the Angler-Snakes took a step back, looking at each other in alarm.

Unfortunately Grians attempt at intimidation was short lived as he was struck from behind, stumbling forward again as the tall Anger-Snake walked through the door behind Grian. It stayed behind Grian like an abnormal shadow, warbling orders to the other guards as they surrounded Grian, each drawing a black stick from their belt and pointing it straight at him.

Grian couldn’t help it. The panic brewing in his chest was too overwhelming. Working on something instinctual, Grian stood as tall as he could, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he let out an almost primal noise, snarling at the tall Angler-Snake behind him. He felt like a cornered animal.

He felt like he was surrounded by predators.

The group of guards stumbled away at the noise, tripping over themselves to get away from Grian, and he couldn’t help but feel a moment of victory. However, he barely had two seconds to feel smug when he was back on the floor.

While he had been distracted, the short Angler-Snake had come up behind him and struck him with the pronged end of the black stick, sending him back into a convulsing heap on the floor. The short Angler-Snake barked orders at the guards, and they flanked him, and blocked off one end of the tunnel, leaving Grian only one way to go.

“We will drag you there if need be. Do not play games with me Deathworlder”. The short Angler-Snake spat the word like it left a bad taste in his mouth, disgust heavy in its voice.

Flinching at the sticks pointed at him, Grian stumbled to his feet and began to walk down the hallway. Each hallway looked the same, a long corridor filled with cold, lifeless doors, and the more Grian tried to memorize the pathways, the more he forgot them.

Slowly the doors lining the hallway petered off and were replaced by what must have been celldoors. Heavy, metal doors with a porthole at the top of them. Grian tried to peer into a few of them as they walked past, but they were either empty or too dark to see in.

Until one wasn’t.

Grian paused in his step. Unlike the other doors, this door had bars over the porthole, and the room inside seemed a bit bigger. It was dimmer in this cell, but one light was on, flickering like all the rest of them. Sickly yellow light poured down like a dispirited waterfall, illuminating a figure slumped in the corner. Its eyes were open but glazed over; dead, and its neck was definitely broken, bent to a painful ninety degree angle. Streaks of green were smudged on the floor, presumably the aliens' blood. Grian winced as he traced the blood to the other visible corner of the room. The corner was dark, but Grian could just barely see another figure, huge and hulkling in the shadows, a shudder went down his spine unbidden. The figure began to turn into the light and just as Grian was about to glimpse the things face, he walked out of sight of the window.

What was that?

Everything on this ship was Angler-Snake sized, made for a creature that was six foot at the absolute most, but that thing had to be at least nine feet tall. And why was there a dead body in there? Was the body a cellmate? An unfortunate guard? Food??

Grian didn’t have any longer to contemplate the strange cell as the guards took one more turn and stopped outside a heavily reinforced door. The porthole was obviously multi-layered glass, and locks of all kinds dotted the seam between the door and the wall, huge heavy deadbolts, codes, chains and a large bar across the front of it. Whatever was in there was dangerous.

The tall Anger-Snake stepped forward and began to hurriedly undo the locks, glancing behind himself at Grian every few seconds. It was obvious that the alien wanted to get whatever they were about to do over with as fast as possible, and his urgency only caused Grians own anxiety to rise. His eyes darted to and fro across the guards and back to the door that possibly contained the horrors of the universe. Assuming whatever was in there was violent enough, it may cause a ruckus once the guards disturbed it, and that. That had to be Grians chance to get away from the guards.

Grians eyes locked onto a smaller Angler-Snake near the side of the circle of guards. That one was the weak link surely. With the others momentarily distracted, he was fairly certain he could bowl over this small one, and take off down the hall.

He had it all planned, now he just needed the assumed monster to do its part.

Grian glanced back at the door and saw that the tall Angler-Snake was on the last lock now, it was heaving the bar off the door, the other Angler-Snakes were crowding in, here was his chance. The door swung open and Grian braced himself to be assaulted by the sight of the most terrifying, dangerous and violent creature he could imagine. And…

And the cell was empty.

“Wha-”, Grian managed to stutter out, before the Angler-Snakes took his momentary surprise to pounce.

Prodding, and gnashing their teeth, they began to herd him towards the door, brandishing their black sticks. Grian stumbled back, they were trying to keep him in there. Immediately a surge of adrenaline hit.

The Angler-Snakes encroached further into his space causing the small Angler-Snake to be near him now. Grian took the opportunity. He darted to his left before jerking back towards the small Angler-Snake, weaving between guards. The small Angler-Snake gave a jab at him but he dodged, grabbing the black stick near the handle, and ripping it out of the creature's grasp. He didn’t bother to flip the stick around as he let the momentum carry the pronged end of the stick straight into an Angler-Snake behind him. Strange gurgling noises came from the Angler-Snake that he had hit and Grian, stupidly, so so stupidly, glanced behind him.

The momentary distraction was all the Angler-Snakes needed.

The shock came suddenly, one, then two, then all of them. Grian couldn’t think as every guard that had escorted him to the cell shocked him repeatedly, there were sounds akin to yelling but Grian couldn’t figure out if it was the Angler-Snakes or his own screams. In between shocks he was hit by the butt of the stick, and Grian could already feel bruises forming. All he could do was curl into himself and cover his head.

Between flashes of consciousness, Grian felt slimy hands on him, as well as the butts of sticks pushing and shoving him, until finally, it all stopped. He heard the sound of metal meeting metal as the cell door closed, sealing Grian into the cell and sealing his fate.

_______________________________________

A lot of things sucked about being in a cell.

Besides the very obvious fact that he was imprisoned against his will. A fact that he was trying very hard not to think about. The heavily reinforced walls kept almost all sound outside of his cell from reaching him. Or at least he thought it did, he’s not sure if there even had been a sound outside since the Angler-Snakes left him here. Grian curled closer towards his knees. If he weren’t so scared right now he’d be talking to himself. Something to fill the silence. Something to help him feel like he’s less alone.

He shifted onto his side. He was lying on a too small cot that had been shoved to the corner of the room. It was cold, and seemed to suck the warmth out of him like metal. But at least it was softer than the floor. Everything hurt to move, and no matter how he positioned himself, something was poking into one of his many, very fresh bruises.

After the Angler-Snakes had left and Grian had stopped drifting in and out of consciousness, he had dragged himself over to the door, and with the help of the ledge of the porthole, he had pulled himself up and into the light. Ignoring the rush to his head, he slowly looked down at the rest of his body. His arms were polka dotted with bruises, all the splotchy square of the end of the guard's sticks, and there were sluggishly bleeding cuts all along his ribs from where the sticks had hit especially hard and broken skin.

Grian winced as he glanced at his arms again and quickly looked away. If he didn’t take care of those they were going to get infected, but it wasn't like he had antibiotic cream and bandages, and he was pretty sure he was more likely to be beaten again than given supplies if he complained to the guards that passed by every few hours.

That’s another thing about being in a cell. Perception of time? Gone. For all he knew, it could have been only a few hours, or it could have been half a day. Nothing about the lighting changed, and so far nothing about the guards had either. What he should do is start counting. See how long it was between guard shifts, but with every breath he took, his chest expanded and aggravated the cuts on his ribs, and he immediately lost count.

Hours past, or maybe just minutes, he couldn’t really tell. Nothing broke the sterile monotony of his cage, and he found himself becoming more and more unaware of his surroundings.

He remained like that, until he heard a commotion outside his door, breaking him out of his stupor.

For a moment he was so overjoyed at hearing noise again that he didn't even process that the sound was outside his door. But once he did he scooted as far back into the corner as he could, all muscles tensed and ready.

The door was flung open, and the room was suddenly flooded with light. Grian blinked at the doorway. Two silhouettes blocked the light, one obviously the hulking figure of an Angler-Snake, the other smaller and unidentifiable. Without any fanfare, the small one was flung into his cell, along with one word from the Angler-Snake;

“Dinner”.

The door shut, and Grian was once again plunged into semi-darkness.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hey there! I really like your Faust shorts. Usually I’m nervous about requesting stuff, but I wanted to ask. Do you think maybe you could do Bard and a younger fan reader who’s been helping out at helvete for a job? He calls her “little lady,” both because she’s younger and way shorter than him lol. Maybe some of her bullies come into the shop and start teasing her, but then scary tall lanky boy comes out with the scary dog energy and scars them off? And when he sees that she’s kinda upset still about what happens he offers to let her pick out the horror movie they’re gonna watch together. Just cute platonic stuff with a smug of a crush on readers side lol

My little Lady - Faust x fem!reader

warning : alcohol, cuddling, use of a knife and gun

Info : Hi hi thanks for the request anon don't be nervous the only bad thing that could happen is a ,,No". So have fun reading this and hope you and others likes it ;)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Helvete was the place to go if you were looking for like-minded people, weirdos, crazy people, satanists or simply a distraction.

It was a store for freaks, for people who didn't want to belong in society and didn't do so. A store that was nevertheless a home for very specific people.

A home that became a place where all the freaks could meet to be just that. Freaks. It was the store where the little lady stayed, at least that's what Faust always called her.

The younger employee who initially only helped out at the weekend was now an employee and a member of the store. At first, the boys had almost laughed at her when she came in because of her size she almost seemed to still be at school.

Although this was not the case, it was an unusual view, but by the time she proved herself on the drums and especially in her knowledge of music, she had the respect of the group. Her knowledge went so far that she only had to hear one note to know which song and band it was.

A talent that the biggest of the group, Faust, found particularly amusing. When he wasn't asleep, at home or watching horror movies, he was always in the store and a friendship soon developed between the two of them.

What started with a ,,Here, let me help you" and him taking a box from her to put it on the highest shelf usually ended with an extended evening in the store where they both listened to their favorite music.

She gave him a new knife for his birthday and he gave her a pair of boots with heels. Heels that made her a little taller, but not quite enough to even come close to her.

But she loved these boots and wore them almost every day, even on the day the door to the store opened and a certain group came in. Great, she thought as she looked up from the box of new records.

It was the new print of the Venom album and many would be coming in tomorrow so she wanted to get everything ready. But when she saw exactly who was standing in the doorway, she had to stifle a frustrated cry.

,,Well, if it isn't the freak," she heard the leader of her "friends" say, and she hadn't been able to get rid of the three of them since she had left the church.

She had met the three of them at the church and when she started wearing a little more black, well, Satan always shows himself in the strangest places.

,,If you want to buy something, make it otherwise," she tried, trying to suppress the fear and discomfort in her voice. But as the three approached her, she slowly moved away, wanting to escape, wanting to stop being the victim.

,,Oh, we're buying... only the customer service isn't that good, is it, boys?" he asked and suddenly the other two began to take the records out of their packaging and smash them. Their pleas and screams to stop stopped as the oldest of the three approached them.

She pushed hard with her back against the corner and her fear showed when he slid his fingers to her earrings. ,,It would be a shame to lose it," he murmured and placed his fingers on the upturned cross earring. ,,Don't do that," she said, her voice brittle and full of fear that he would tear her earring off.

Tears formed in her eyes as she watched more records being destroyed, the pain in her ear intensifying. Before suddenly footsteps could be heard from the cellar.

They sounded heavy and the steps creaked under the older man. ,,If I were you, you go now!" he hissed and she saw the knife flash in his hand as he looked at the three of them from behind his hair. ,,And what if you don't?" one of the three asked and threw a record at the larger one.

But Faust caught it and threw it so precisely that the edge cut the little one. ,,I'm... bleeding," he said firmly and backed away slowly, while the other fled, cursing as Faust pointed the knife at him.

,,What, are you going to kill me?" the leader asked, letting go of the young woman and walking towards the taller one, who towered over him. But Faust just smirked before grabbing the smaller one by the collar and pulling him towards him.

The coldness of the knife lay against the younger man's throat. ,,Do you want to find out?" he asked and saw the fear slowly forming in his gaze as he tore himself away and ran out screaming.

Before the door closed and Faust instantly lost the creepy energy. But in all of this she felt the rapid beating of her heart, which she knew was not only due to her fear.

Perhaps she had developed a little crush on him in all this time. But above all, he had her gratitude. ,,Thank you... Faust," she said and threw her arms around him, hugging the taller one, who lifted her up with a smile and twirled around slightly.

,,Come on, little lady, pick a movie and I'll make some popcorn...no one should say you were afraid of them," he said with a grin and went into the professional kitchen before she settled into the beanbag and decided on Halloween.

Already feeling much more relaxed watching the beginning, she soon felt the bowl of popcorn in her lap. ,,I couldn't have made a better choice, little lady," he said, slapping her lightly on the arm before he took some popcorn and she leaned against him before they both enjoyed the movie together.

But inside they both knew that they would give their lives to the other. They would look out for each other...they always would.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[redsrooftopprincess]

Pumpkin Sugar (Part 2)

Raphael x Fem!Reader - Established Relationship

Part 1 . Part 2 . Part 3 . Part 4 . Epilogue (🌶️ Fem!Reader)

Based on this ask by @gornackeaterofworlds

More of a question to expand on than a detailed request, but would raph help a teacher reader grade papers?? Would he get invested in gossip on the kids??

I was zoning out and somehow thought about elementary school teacher readers, coming back to the lair with papers to grade, Donnie getting angry over the lesson plans you have to use, etc. And then, like always, raph thoughts(I am unbelievably gushy to raph x lil sweet cheery readers) Being oh so sleepy tired but still having work to do. Grading papers, getting activities printed and cut, weekly plans. I'd like to imagine he helps to get you to sleep faster, all the while listening to the venty yapping about which kids are troublemakers

Special thanks to @the-cauldron-witch . The best brainstorming buddy I could honestly ask for. Could not have written this without you. 😁

It's almost two. He's later than he was supposed to be, because somehow the night construction crew on 4th don't need to take pee breaks. He had to wait half an hour for an opening to get by the site, but he's finally made it home.

He walks into the lair to find you asleep on the couch, cuddled with one of his blankets, and five pumpkins left. The living room is a wreck. Thin foam slices and shapes, along with more than a handful of candy wrappers (most likely your dinner) litter the couch and the ground around you, he's relieved to at least see a mostly empty bottle of water. He smiles down at you fondly. You had a way of taking on more than you should probably handle. He was a perfect example of that.

After a quick shower to rinse the city off of him, he goes back to the living room, snatches up a pumpkin and an exacto knife, and sits back on the recliner. He props his foot up on the coffee table and glances over at you before getting to work. Even unconscious, he was awestruck.

From the moment you met he was drawn to you. He's not even sure he can place what it was, but somehow he found himself caught in your eyes. Every touch, every whisper was the most beautiful agony. For two years his head fought his heart, reminding him every moment of every day that he was unworthy of you.

He still doesn't get how he managed it. You. He's still so damn confused, but he's past questioning it. He seems to be what you want. You seem happy, and he's been on cloud fucking nine for the last three years. There's obviously been some growing pains, and considering, to your knowledge, a relationship like this has never exactly been done before, patience and understanding have been a must. But when you're lying in his arms, it's more than worth all the bullshit.

And he's having so much fun.

Being with you has been the most incredible time of his life. And the moment he was able to say that he was yours, it felt like none of the other shit mattered. You somehow saw the beauty in the beast, and despite everything, still chose to stay. And now that he finally has what he wanted, and has for years, he feels like there should really be a "something next."

He couldn't give you everything. He could barely give you anything. Somehow, It seemed to be enough. But there were some human experiences he wanted to have, too.

He glances over at you, still asleep, and smiles. He can hear Donatello scolding him as he pulls the ring from his pocket for the fifteen time today. He should really just put it away. But he was proud.

It took him a year to make it. A ring of white gold beset with a deep red asscher garnet, and small triangle cut moissanites resting on either side of the band.

He didn't feel right giving you a stolen ring, and giving you something he found in the garbage was unthinkable, so between sourcing the materials and learning an entirely new skill thanks to Donnie (who has a bit more experience working with metal), he'd only just fit the stones this morning, which is why he NEEDED to see you. He was excited (and terrified) Even if it isn't time yet, it's finished, and he's been pouring his love for you into it for a year.

Now to figure out the hard part.

He hears your phone buzzing as your alarm goes off and fumbles to quickly hide the ring. When it's no longer in his hands, he smiles over at you, "Morning, beautiful."

You smile sleepily over him. "Hi..." You take a deep breath and stretch, yawning, before your eyes fly open. "Shit!" You fell asleep.

"Relax" he soothes, before you can panic, "I finished 'em up for you."

A wave of cool relief washes over you and you sink back into the couch. "How did I ever manage life without you?" you ask with a soft smile.

"You didn't," he clarifies, "that's why you needed me." He grins as your laughter fills him. "Why don't you go grab a shower and get ready for work. I'll get these packed up."

You stand and stretch and he looks at you fondly (and a little lecherously). You catch his stare and smirk, walking over to him and leaning down (only slightly), for a kiss. "Your amazing," you whisper against his lips, before you pull away and open your eyes.

You head towards his room to grab a change of clothes before going off to shower. It isn't until he hears the bathroom door close, and the shower turn on that he lets out a heavy sigh of relief. Too close.

He looks at the foam explosion in the living room for a moment and is about to start tidying up when he has an idea.

Opening up each of the pumpkins as he goes, he tosses some candy into each one before putting it in the cart, leaving the last five he carved for last. He checks the time and grabs one of the sharpies and a pack of post-it's out of your bag and gets to work.

As his hand is lifting the lid of the last one, a haunted house, you are coming down the stairs. He tosses the note in quickly without looking, closes it up and places it on the cart with the others.

You reach him and stand up on your tip toes to kiss him. "Thank you for saving my life," you say.

"Someone's gotta," he replies. You scrunch up your face and he grins, kissing you again. You kiss him back and bite his lower lip, he growls, still smiling, "don't start something you ain't gonna be around to finish."

"I'll make it up to you," you breathe into his ear, his hand tightens around you waist, "besides," you say pulling back with a suggestive brow, "I do owe you a thank you for the help last night."

He walks you to the garage and rides up the elevator with you. As your hand touches the door to exit at street level, he quickly pulls you back into him, kissing you fiercely. "I love you so fucking much," he whispers as he pulls away, grinning.

"I love you too," you say, slightly confused, your suspicious feeling from the night before returning, "what's going on with you?"

You don't miss the flash of panic in his eyes. "Nothing," he insists a little too emphatically, "I mean, what do you mean?"

"I don't know..." You say, eyeing him as he tries to appear casual, "you're being weird."

"Babe, I'm a six-and-a-half foot talking turtle, I'm made of weird."

You laugh. A few years ago, he could have never made that joke. He's come so far and you are so damn proud of him and the reptile he's become. "Okay, granted. Weirder, then."

He looks like he really really wants this conversion to be over, "you're gonna miss your train," he offers helpfully.

And if he wasn't right, you would have stayed to wring it out of him.

...

Tag list

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo

...

Part 1 . Part 2 . Part 3 . Part 4 . Epilogue (🌶️ Fem!Reader)

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Arsonist neil please🙏

WIP Wednesday (9/18) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 232)

"K—" Andrew blanks and curses himself. He has an eidetic memory for fuck's sake! How could he run out of names?! Katelyn gives him a look, like she thinks she's won this ridiculous competition. After a few seconds of coming up empty Andrew sighs out a breath, ready to admit defeat. But on the inhale, he smells something that makes his heart stop. It's that same awful feeling he gets at work, when they first arrive on a scene. Why is he... Where is this anxiety coming from?

Andrew looks away from Katelyn and sniffs the air, dread settling in his stomach. It's smoke. A very faint smell of smoke coming from the kitchen. "Katrina,” he makes a point to say. “Your kitchen is on fire."

Aaron reaches over to flick his earlobe. "Play fair at least, asshole."

"No, I'm serious," Andrew says, standing up so fast he nearly knocks his chair over. He makes sure to flick Aaron back before rushing into the kitchen to investigate. He finds the source immediately. Katelyn's kitchen towel is too near the burner, it's already caught and the fire is licking down the material and spreading fast. Andrew shoves the sleeve of his sweater up and grabs the end that's not in flames, tosses it into the sink, and cuts the water. It douses the fire instantly and the panic in his chest bursts like a water balloon. When he turns around, he finds two pale faces in the doorway.

"Oh my God." Katelyn says, looking from the rag to the pot on the stove. Aaron puts his arm around her shoulders and murmurs something comforting.

"Perhaps the two of you should come down to the station and listen to my boss's fire safety spiel," Andrew suggests, feeling like a live wire and a lightweight. Aaron gives him a look and Andrew holds a hand out. "I can give you the basics now: Do not leave a stove unattended, do not place anything flammable on or near the stove top, do keep a fire extinguisher nearby."

At that last part, Katelyn and Aaron share a look. Andrew squints at them. 

"You don't have one, do you?" When neither of them answers, Andrew starts opening the doors of the cupboards under the counter and finds nothing but cleaning supplies and a small safe. He doesn't even comment on that. Instead he flicks his gaze up above them, scanning the kitchen walls. "You don't have a smoke detector either. What the fuck is wrong with you two? Do you want to burn to death? I hear it is the most painful way to go."

"Of course not!" Aaron huffs. "The old smoke detector died and I—"

"You're about to become parents. Get a goddamn smoke detector." Andrew grits out, making them both look like scolded children. Katelyn looks like she's about to cry. Aaron doesn’t look much better off. Good. Fire is serious. Andrew lets out a breath and clenches his fist. "I… am trying—”

"No, no," Katelyn blinks and nods. "You're right. I didn't realize I left it so close. It's my fault. And we do need a new smoke detector."

Aaron nods, “I'll get a new one tonight."

"Three," Andrew corrects. Then he counts them off on his fingers, "Kitchen, bedroom, hallway. And, whenever the baby room is ready, you put one in there too. Got it?"

"Got it," Aaron answers with a curt nod. Andrew matches it with his own and pushes past them to go sit back down at the table. Once he gets there, crosses his arms and that's when he realizes one of them is naked. He blinks at his pale, scarred skin. He didn't wear his bands tonight, he didn't think he would need them under the sweater. Andrew swallows and yanks his sleeve down over his bare arm. It's fine. It’s fine. It's not like either of them noticed.

[flowerhrt]

the end of love | daisy jones.

pairing: daisy jones x fem!reader

summary: two weeks after your break up, daisy decides to confront you and ask what's wrong.

warnings: it's the 70s, internalized homophobia, eddie being a bit of a dick, daisy is clean and the band is still together, reader is a lesbian.

a/n: i interpret daisy as a lesbian who deals with compulsive heterosexuality.

word count: 2.4k

breathe in. breathe out. it's just one song. record it all in one go, ignore billy's stupid complaints, and then go home. 

well, what used to be home.

 “daisy, you ready to go?” she heard teddy ask from the other side of the recording booth. “yeah, i'm fine. let's get this over with.” the redhead said before taking a sip of the glass of cold water she had next to her. she closed her eyes as she felt the liquid make its way through her throat.

 breathe in. breathe out. she opened her eyes to find the band and camila next to teddy, all smiling encouragingly at her. daisy was about to smile back when the door to the recording studio opened abruptly. “holy shit, tell me i'm not late.” 

oh fuck.

 daisy felt like her heart was about to beat out of her chest. why is she here? she was supposed to be in new york, not los angeles.

 “y/n! you are kind of late.. hope it was for a good reason.” warren said with a wink “tell me the guy at least fucks good.” the drummer added while wiggling his eyebrows.

 the blue-eyed singer wanted to disappear. she tried to distract herself by playing with the hems of her long-sleeved white shirt. huh, funny. daisy thought. she always loved it when i wore this one.

 “yeah, warren. he fucked better than you ever will.” y/n answered, not before rolling her eyes at their friend.

 they didn't know y/n didn't fuck any guy last night.

 they didn't know y/n would never fuck a guy. ever. they didn't know y/n was late because she didn't know if she could face her ex girlfriend after she told her she was leaving for good. they hadn't seen each other for two weeks, and it was fucking torture for both of them. they had grown so used to always waking up next to each other, cooking together, and doing pretty much everything together, and god did it feel weird to not see each other for longer than a day. 

daisy felt like she couldn't breathe when y/n left. she always had to remind herself to breathe in and breathe out. it was as if the girl before her took all the oxygen in the world when she walked out of daisy's front door. right. she remembered bitterly as she felt the fabric of the shirt in her hands.

 daisy's front door. daisy's home. 

because she refused to move in with her even after three years of secretly seeing each other. she refused to let anyone know about their relationship. not even simone, who is like… them. and daisy understood, she obviously did.

 it was dangerous to be one of the world's most famous singers and openly date a woman. openly love a woman. openly say the word lesbian. people would crucify you in the street if they knew you were a homosexual. that was the main reason y/n was scared, she was just a tour photographer who happened to become close with the band and fall in love with daisy on the way. if the world knew she was into women, she would never get another job.

 daisy tried to tell her they would be okay, to screw the rest of the world. they loved each other. how could that ever be bad? as far as she knew, love wasn't a bad thing. but maybe she only thought that because she didn't have much experience with it. her parents hated her. men used her. she only has the band, simone, and y/n. had y/n. not anymore. 

“daisy!” her name being yelled at her got her out of the trance she was in. “are you going deaf or are you just high as shit?” eddie asked from the microphone. 

“she's in recovery, eddie. stop joking about that.” she heard a soft voice she could recognize anywhere snap back at him. “right, sorry.” the bassist said with his hands held up high as a way of showing surrender.

 y/n looked at her and they made eye contact for a solid second. daisy gave her a small smile and looked down. “alright, let's get this party started!” warren hollered as daisy put her headphones on to start recording. “okay, the end of love, take one.” 

the redhead remembered to breathe as she heard the first notes of the song.

 i feel nervous in a way that can't be named.

i dreamt last night of a sign that read, the end of love. 

she looked up and saw y/n drumming her fingers against her waist. she obviously knew the song was about her. ever since daisy met the photographer, almost every song she has written has been about her. the singer wrote the end of love the day after y/n walked out of her new york apartment. 

it's pitiful, she thinks. even when they're not romantically together anymore, she still writes about her.

 and i remember thinking even in my dreaming.

 it was a good line for a song. 

daisy tried to steady her breathing but when she looked at y/n she felt like she was about to pass out.

 breathe in. breathe out.

 breathe in. i can't fucking do this. 

the flower-named girl placed her headphones down and said a quick “i need some fresh air.” before storming out of the recording booth. daisy walked through god knows how many rooms, until she found an empty one in the back of the building, she sat on the floor and leaned against the door she had just walked through.

 you dumb fucking idiot, she thought. now they're all going to think you´re singing about someone in the room, or even worse, that you've relapsed and can't record a damn song. she can't go through this again.

 if the band thinking she was in love with billy dunne, when she's not even into men, was bad enough, them seeing her overreact this way is going to make them figure out she has been seeing someone. 

there was a minute of silence while she tried to think of an excuse to say when she gets back into the studio, but it was all interrupted by a soft knock coming from the other side of the wooden door she has been leaning against.

 “i'm fine, karen. just give me a second.” the blue-eyed girl said while running a hand through her long red hair. 

“i'm not karen, but if you want me to go get her, i can do that.” her heart sank as she heard y/n's voice.

 “no!” she heard her own voice answer in a quick desperate way. she grimaced at how pathetic she sounded.

 “well, is it okay if i come in?”

 one beat. two beats. daisy unlocked the door.

 the photographer walked into the room and sat on the opposite side of the singer, facing her. “do you want to talk about it?”

 “talk about what?” 

the girl sighed and leaned her face against the palm of her right hand. “about what just happened. you don't normally walk out of a recording session, daisy. not ever. are you okay?” she asked as she looked straight into daisy's big blue eyes.

 the singer stared back and bit her lip as she felt her eyes start to water. “i miss you.” 

“daisy-” 

“no.” she interrupted. “you say you love me but then decide to break up with me.” she says with a scoff. “without even letting me ask you what i did wrong. without even letting me try and fight for you. for us.” a tear streamed down her right cheek.

 it took everything in the girl before her to not wipe it, the way she always did. 

“listen, i understand being scared. do you think i'm not frightened of how the boys will react if they ever find out we are the way we are? but i didn't care as long as i had you. i know you have your doubts. but why did we have to hide from everyone? simone would never treat us differently. we both know she's a lesbian. just like you and i.” she pointed a finger at herself and the girl who now wouldn't dare to look her in the eye. 

“karen wouldn't either, she's too busy minding her own fucking business to be disgusted by us. even camila wouldn't care, she'd be delighted to know i've never felt an ounce of love for her husband” daisy was fully crying now. god, she loved her girlfriend so much. why wasn't that enough for her?

 “i left for that exact reason.” 

“what?” she asked.

 “you deserve someone who isn't afraid to love you. who isn't afraid of who she is.” y/n continued. “you know, billy and graham saw simone kiss her girlfriend at your birthday party” she said with a sarcastic laugh. “and they didn't give a single shit.” daisy was silent as she listened intently to her ex-girlfriend's voice.

 “when simone realized they saw her, she told them they'd been together for over five years. and shit, they truly didn't care. even warren said it wasn't fair simone found a girlfriend way before he met lisa.” y/n played with the rings placed around her fingers to avoid eye contact. “the entire band knows about simone, and they think it's normal.” 

daisy's heart was racing, she didn't know if it was excitement for simone, because her best friend was able to love her girlfriend without a care. or if it was happiness, because the rest accepting simone could only mean one thing. if the six don't care about simone and her girlfriend, then that means they won't care about her and y/n.

 the photographer was silent for a while, so daisy decided to speak first. “i don't really understand. you left me because you're afraid of them knowing about us. but, you also know they wouldn't care if they find out?” the singer´s eyes scanned her ex girlfriend´s face, trying to find an answer. 

“yeah… it's stupid.”

 “damn right, it fucking is!” daisy sighed. “i love you. you love me. we can at least tell them and simone about our relationship.”

 y/n was the one holding back tears now. “i want to. i truly do.” 

“then what's stopping you?” her voice softened at the sight of the girl she loves the most crying in front of her.

 “I can't openly love you, not when i can't even say… well, you know what.”

 “god, y/n. you didn't tell me you were still struggling with that. i could've helped you.”

 “i know you would've, but i didn't want to be a burden.” daisy slowly raised her arm and caressed y/n's cheek in the soft, loving way she always does. “you're not a burden. not ever. not to me.” the flower-named girl tucked the girl's hair behind her ear. 

“i love you. i love you so fucking much, i can't breathe when i'm without you.” she continued. “you helped me when i was trying to recover from my addiction. you were there when i got out of rehab. you've helped me stay clean.” 

“that was all you, daisy.” 

“yeah, but you were next to me the entire time. the least i can do is be next to you, while you learn to accept yourself.”  “it took me a while to come to terms with being a lesbian, too.” daisy said as she twirled a piece of y/n's hair around her finger. 

“i used to think the only way i could make it into the industry was by not caring about men stealing my music because at least people would hear them. fuck, i forced myself to want them, the same way they wanted me. because that was the closest i thought i'd ever get to being loved.” “but that's not what love is. love is what you and i have.”

 y/n placed her hand over daisy's. “i want to be brave, for you.”

 “you already are. you just need to be brave for yourself. because you deserve it.”

 “thank you, for everything.”  y/n gave her a soft small smile. “you don't have to thank me for anything, seeing you smile is good enough for me.” 

 the two women locked eyes, and they just stared at each other for a small moment. y/n's hands began to shake with desperation, she craved the feeling of daisy against her. and suddenly, she felt a force pulling her towards the redhead girl, daisy placed her hands on both sides of y/n's waist, and instinctively, as if her body was made to be next to her's, y/n placed her hands behind daisy's neck, the same way she has done for the past few years, their bodies were pieces of a puzzle made to be together.

 they both leaned into each other, they were so close, they could feel each other's noses rubbing together, daisy smiled at the sensation. “can i-” daisy started “you don't even have to ask.” the girl interrupted, before smashing her lips into the singer's.

 their lips locked, the two women having been in the exact same position hundreds of times, but this was different. this kiss was about understanding, about forgiveness, about acceptance, about moving forward. it lasted a few more moments until they were out of breath and had to pull away. 

“i love you, daisy jones.” the girl whispered against daisy's lips. “i love you, y/n l/n.” she answered with glossy, vibrant eyes. before getting back into her usual cocky self.

 “well, not to spoil my amazing new song, which is going to be a hit, but there's a specific lyric i think you're going to like.” she said, trying to fight back a smile. y/n rolled her eyes at her girlfriend's antics.

 “oh yeah? what is it?” daisy cupped y/n's cheeks and stared lovingly into her lover's eyes. “i've always been in love with you. could you tell it from the moment that i met you?” the redhead sang before kissing her beautiful girlfriend again, and again, and again.

 daisy still had to finish recording her song, and they still had to explain what took the photographer so long to find her, but luckily, this time y/n wasn't afraid to tell them the truth. 

we were reaching in the dark

that summer in new york

and it was so far to fall

but it didn't hurt at all.

[libraryofgage]

A combo of 18 and 10? At some point Steve is told by Eddie's band mates that Eddie told them he doesn't actually like Steve. It's been a while but Steve still loves Eddie and wants to pretend for a night that it isn't true.

Okay, so I know you probably meant for this to be more angsty but I'm a fucking marshmallow and had to slip in the happy ending hfdjsk

Either way, I hope there's still enough angst for you!

Also, for reference, I usually call the unnamed freak Asher, so don't be surprised by the name lol

Prompts 18 and 10 from this prompt list:

10. “Let me call you mine, just for tonight.”

18. “Is hating me your only personality trait?”

You'll want to read the tags btw, I promise lol

---

"You know, Eddie doesn't actually like you."

Steve blinks, his pen dragging across the page and striking ink through Will's carefully written campaign story that he'd asked Steve to review. According to him, Steve was neutral, and his lack of D&D knowledge meant he'd be able to tell Will if the story made sense even to a new player.

Unfortunately, any thoughts of Will's campaign are disintegrated by Gareth's seven words. "What?" he asks, trying to blink away the daze as he looks at the rest of Corroded Coffin across the garage. He doesn't usually step foot into their practice space, but he and Eddie had plans to hang out after practice and Jonathan had helpfully dropped him off. Now he was just waiting for Eddie to get back from the bathroom.

"Eddie," Jeff says, "he doesn't like you. He told us."

"He won't fucking shut up about it, actually," Asher says, a grin tugging at his lips, and Steve thinks it looks particularly cruel.

In fact, their words so far have held an undertone of anticipation, like they were waiting for Steve's reaction. As cliche as it sounds, their grins feel like knives stabbing into him. It's not just his heart, it's Steve's entire body, like every inch of his being had only existed on the premise that Eddie Munson liked him at least a little bit. Not even romantically (Steve isn't that deluded), but as a friend.

"He...," Steve swallows around the lump in his throat, trying to keep his voice from breaking. Apparently, he doesn't do well, since Jeff's grin widens and Gareth's eyes light up, and Asher opens his mouth like he's ready to hammer the final nail in Steve's coffin.

Whatever they plan to say next is interrupted by Eddie finally returning and grinning at Steve. "Ready to go, Stevie?" he asks.

Suddenly the grin is mean, the nickname cruelly teasing, and Steve wonders how he went so long deluding himself that Eddie liked him. It hurts even more with his bandmates' words still playing in his head and their grins hidden behind Eddie's back like they're proud of breaking Steve's delusion.

"Uh, yeah, ready," Steve says, forcing his voice to sound normal as he closes Will's campaign notebook and follows Eddie to his van.

By the time they end the night at the Munson trailer, Steve feels frayed at the edges and three seconds from tearing in two. The entire evening, all he could think about was how much Eddie seemed to be covering his own dislike and how it bled through anyway. Every smile was sharp, every casual touch seemed hesitant and quick to end like Eddie couldn't pull away fast enough, and every glance seemed to pierce Steve with dislike and reinforce the shattering of his delusion.

At least the weed Eddie gave him when they got to his room is helping a little. It's filling his lungs with something other than hurt, clouding his mind with something other than doubt. It even stops the questions and stops him from wondering what he could have possibly done to make Eddie play some kind of long-con instead of just saying he didn't like Steve.

"Heeelloooo," Eddie says, waving his hand in front of Steve's face. "Anything going on in there, big boy?"

Steve blinks, his chest tightening as he looks up at Eddie. They're on the bed, with Eddie sitting next to him while Steve reclines against the pillows, his usual position that lets him stare at the ceiling. That mean grin is back, and Steve once again wonders how he ever mistook it for anything else. The words, too. How did he ever mistake those words for playful teasing?

And maybe it's the weed, but Steve can't stop himself from sitting up and asking, "Is hating me your only personality trait when we're together?" It's not even relevant. Steve knows that. He knows that Eddie hasn't done anything overtly hateful, but he can't help asking.

Eddie's grin falters. "Woah, woah, what are you talking about?"

"Why do you even hang out with me if you hate me so much?" Steve asks, steamrolling over whatever Eddie wanted to say by grabbing him by the shoulders. "Why don't you just tell me to fuck off? Why do you hang out with someone you don't even like? Is it funny to you? Do you enjoy tricking me?"

His voice is cracking by the end, and Eddie's eyes are wide, undoubtedly surprised that he's been caught in the act. And this time it's definitely the weed clouding Steve's mind and making him act on impulse because he can't be bothered to think as he grabs the collar of Eddie's jacket and pulls him closer. "You can punch me later, or run me over with your van if you hate me that much. But...but right now, just let me pretend I can call you mine, just for tonight."

Before Eddie can respond, before he can tell Steve to fuck off and kick him out of the trailer, Steve kisses him. Their teeth clack together painfully, and Steve is sure his lip has started bleeding, but he doesn't care. He's more focused on keeping his eyes squeezed shut, forcing his brain to delude him into thinking this is a happier kiss, that his eyes aren't stinging and two seconds from making the kiss salty.

They stay in an admittedly uncomfortable position for a few seconds before Eddie grabs Steve's waist and pushes him down against the pillows. Steve's surprised grunt is muffled by Eddie pushing his tongue past his lips, and he only has a brief moment to be relieved that Eddie is playing along when he suddenly pinches Steve's side and breaks the kiss.

Steve winces and opens his eyes, his body tensing when he sees Eddie staring down at him. The only thing he can hear is his own panting and the sirens screaming in his brain that he's truly, irrevocably fucked everything up.

"So," Eddie says, his voice surprisingly soft for someone about to rip Steve's heart out, "where'd you get the idea that I hate you?"

Steve shuts his mouth, biting his tongue as he looks away. That doesn't help much, though, since Eddie's hair has fallen around him in a wavy curtain that obscures his view of anything else. A few moments pass before Steve shifts uncomfortably and replies, "Your friends told me."

Eddie hums softly, holding himself steady with one arm on the pillow by Steve's head while the other tugs on a lock of Steve's hair. And it's only now that Steve realizes he's fucking surrounded, pressed into Eddie's mattress by Eddie's body with Eddie's hair cutting him off from the rest of the room. "And what, exactly, did they say, Stevie?" Eddie asks, his tone sharp and dancing like this entire situation is funny to him.

It's enough to distract Steve, leading his brain to lag behind as he tries desperately to remember what Gareth, Jeff, and Asher said. "You don't actually like me. You told them yourself. You won't shut up about not liking me," Steve finally says.

Something like recognition really sparks in Eddie's eyes, and his grin falls slightly. He looks ready to speak, but then he thinks better of it. His smile comes back, nearly full force, and he says, "They're right. I don't like you."

Oh. Steve acutely feels the breath get stolen out of his lungs, the way they ache as his heart sears with the pain of being ripped from his chest. His eyes are stinging even worse, and his nose feels astringent like he just walked into a bathroom with bleach spilled across the floor.

"I love you."

Steve blinks. "What?"

"I love you."

Yeah, it still doesn't make sense. "...are you sure?"

Eddie bursts out laughing, finally letting all his weight fall onto Steve so he can bury his face in Steve's shoulder. Steve is still blindsided, trying to get his brain and heart to get on the same page.

"Yes, I'm serious," Eddie says, raising his head to look at Steve. "I can guarantee they were fucking with you. If I hadn't come back, those fuckers would've revealed my massive crush on you."

"Massive," Steve mumbles, cursing the weed for inhibiting his ability to think properly.

Eddie's grin gets even wider, his eyes lighting up in a way that tells Steve he's about to roll his eyes at a dumb joke. "Yeah, almost as massive as I am," Eddie says, playfully grinding his hips down on Steve like their jeans aren't in the way.

Steve was right. He does roll his eyes. And it helps him shake some of the daze, allows him to pull himself out of the fog of doubt and spiraling thoughts. "Fuck off," he says, placing a hand on Eddie's face and pushing him away.

"Well, if you insist," Eddie says playfully, exaggerating movements of getting up only for Steve to grab his arm and pull him back. "You're really giving me mixed signals here, sweetheart."

"You really love me?" Steve asks, ignoring Eddie's joke.

"Of course, Stevie. What's not to love?"

And there's such genuine emotion in Eddie's voice that Steve represses the urge to ask if he wants the list in chronological or alphabetical order. "Okay, then you can't be angry when I fucking murder your friends."

Eddie laughs and pushes his head into Steve's neck like a cat, playfully biting his throat. "I'll help you."

"Are we moving too fast by plotting murder for our first date?"

"We went through an Eldritch nightmare together, sweetheart."

Steve concedes to that point, reaching up and idly running his fingers through Eddie's hair. They occasionally snag on a few tangles, and Steve resists the urge to get a hairbrush. "Right," he says, a smile tugging at his lips, "then we should plan a romantic murder date."

And Steve feels Eddie's smile on his skin, tries to commit the sensation to memory, and feels immeasurable relief at the fact that it won't be the last time Eddie smiles against him like this.

[one-annon]

im so sorry about my absence!! i've been a little busy so i haven't been able to get to requests but i promise i'll start working on them again around this weekend!! instead here's a book i wrote a while ago about the twins to keep you guys fed! i also wrote it on a computer with auto caps so if its a little different from my writing style please forgive me..i also got a bit lazy toward the end i apologize! warning for tcm spoilers kinda choptop coming home

Bobby sighed heavily, finally getting off the plane. He was glad he was able to finally be done with the war. Of course, he only served about three years but missed his family - what can he say? Not only that, but he missed his records. According to the letters his twin sent, he kept them safe in the room they used to share. He was the only one to write.

Drayton, his oldest brother, was supposed to pick him up from the airport. It was a fairly long drive, but he didn’t mind. Apparently, while he was gone, they set themselves up well. Made a name for the family. Drayton won the best chili competition twice! Twice!

The short man scrambled around baggage claim, quickly grabbing his stuff before waiting outside for his brother. He got odd looks, of course. Nothing new. He had gained a metal plate in his head during his time serving - the result of a piece of his head being cut (getting a chunk of your head cut with a machete really freakin’ hurts!)

About 20 minutes passed before a blue Chevrolet c-10 Silverado pulled in front of him, his brother in the driver’s seat.

Bobby tilted his head, pulling the passenger door open and slipping into the seat. “This is new,” he stated, slamming the door shut and setting his bags in the back seat.

Drayton grinned at him “like it?”

He laughs softly, nodding. He looked around the truck. “Where’s bubba? And nubbins?”

The way drayton’s expression fell didn't go unnoticed by the veteran. “Oh.” he started, shifting the truck into drive and moving out of the way of others. “..they’re at home,” he answered simply. “Taking care of Grandpa.”

That made sense. Grandpa needed someone to watch him. He was old.

He gave a soft nod.

The two fell into a comfortable silence (for the younger, at least). It was fairly unusual for the sawyers to be quiet but bobby was tired and drayton had too many thoughts in his head.

How would he react when he found out what happened?

“Now- bobby..uh..you realize some things have..changed..since you left.” Drayton tried to be careful with his words. It wasn’t all the time he was soft with his younger brothers but-..this felt different. He had just been through war. He watched his friends die right in front of him. On top of that - nubbins had-

“I know!” he smiles at him. “I-I’m quite ready to see what you guys have been cookin’!!” 

There it was. That quietness.

“Yknow, i made a friend.” bobby mentions softly. “He always called me chop top. Gave it to me in the hosp-hospital!”

Drayton just nods.

“He was real sweet, gave me one of his records - he did! A-a Beatles one! ‘Sargeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band’.” he leaned back slightly, “that’s the one with the song that people say is related to LSDs!!” he grins, looking over to his brother as he rests his hands behind his head. “Though it actually originated from John Lennon’s son’s drawing.”

Drayton let him ramble on, letting him be happy for the moments before the storm.

He couldn't focus on what Bobby was saying, just staring blankly at the road.

“That’s nice, Bobby.” He mumbled.

The younger frowned, watching him. “You’re being awfully quiet.” He spoke softly, his eyes full of worry as he stared.

Drayton swallowed hard “don’t worry about it, boy.” 10 minutes. Just 10 more minutes.

The truck fell silent again. More of an uncomfortable silence now.

It didn’t take long for the duo to get there. Home.

“What happened?” bobby asked as he set his shaky hand on the door handle.

“It’s a long story.” Drayton grumbled, shutting the truck off before opening his own side’s door and stepping out.

Bobby followed soon after, retrieving his bags from the back seat. He meets his brother at the front door, grinning. He was excited to see the rest of his family. Especially his twin. He doesn’t know how to explain it but they’re..connected. Not just by blood but it feels like they can finish each other’s thoughts without even needing context. 

Twins can read each others mind. His sergeant had said when they were eating lunch. Hell yeah. They could do that.

Drayton sighs heavily as he opened the door. “Welcome home, Bobby.”

The taller quickly ran into the house “bubba!” he shouts “nubbins!!”

There was a loud clatter. Then excited screaming. Then out came bubba, all grown up; wearing a fancy new tie and a yellow rubber apron and..

Bobby was tackled, pulled into a tight hug. Bubba babbled out sobs, squeezing him much too tight. 

“Hi bubba!” he laughs, wrapping his arms around his brother’s large frame. If you ask if he cried, he’d obviously say no..but he’s lying. Tears were shed as he held his younger brother. “You’ve grown!” he pointed out, grinning at him.

Bubba nods quickly, moving off and standing to show his height growth. Choptop chuckled and stood beside him “almost as tall as me, bub!”

Drayton smiled at the two, staying quiet.

“Where’s nubs?” Choptop suddenly asked, looking around “he ain’t surprising me is he?” The tall veteran searched the remains of the home, calling his twin’s name “Nubbins! Nubbins!! Fuck are you?!”

The eldest brother watched as Choptop called for his twin. He knew he had to tell him but how would he? Bobby would lose his mind if he found out. Drayton knew he would eventually find the corpse. He didn’t dare toss it. Not without Bobby saying goodbye first.

His first clue of his twin’s disappearance was the way Bubba looked at Cook. He was scared. Not just scared to be yelled at or hit like normal but scared of something else. Had Drayton done something to him while he was away?

Drayton had been unusually quiet. Was it because he was guilty of something? Did he do something to Nubbins? Bobby started to get worried. Not to mention how frustrated he was. Why couldn’t they just tell him dammit?! Where was his twin?? “He’s gone.” Cook spoke up.

Bobby’s eyes watered. Gone? Like - gone to town? Gone hitchhiking? Dead?

He saw a lot of death in Vietnam. Whether it be his own men or the enemies. This was different. This was his twin. The man who had been there with him since they were born. The boy who slept in the same bed as him; right side, facing the wall, hugging a pillow, hogging the blankets. If Nubbins was dead who the hell was gonna force him to have to get up and sleep with a quilt? Who was gonna kick him awake in his sleep?

“He..he aint dead right?” 

Bobby’s voice cracked. He wasn’t used to speaking with such urgency. He’s not used to losing his spark - his chipper tone he always held when he experienced something terrible. No, he was panicked. His voice shook as he asked his question, hoping - praying -  the answer would be a simple no. There had to be an explanation. Nubbins couldn’t be dead.

The silence told him everything he needed to know. No one would speak to him. Bobby choked on his sobs, instead changing his question to: “Where is he?”

Cook pointed to the stairs. He had left Nubbins on the twins’ bed. Undisturbed. He was peaceful even after what he had gone through. Bubba cowered, moving to the side as Choptop sprinted up the stairs. He took a sharp left. The other two didn’t follow. He needed his moment alone. 

Bobby slammed the door to their room open, flinging himself at the bed. He wrapped his skinny arms around his twin’s rotting body. The smell was awful. Nothing he hadn’t experienced before. “Nubbins!” He cried, forcing the covers off of the body. He held his twin close to his body, sob after sob wracking through his chest. He felt awful. He was supposed to be the responsible twin. He was supposed to be the one protecting his brother - even when Drayton was away. He knew Nubbins was harder to care for. He took on the challenge. And he failed.

He had been gone 3 years. He was only 25. Nubbins was only 25. God knows how long he’s just been sitting here. Choptop muttered to himself, begging Nubbins to wake up. It was like those nights again. Back when they were kids and when Bobby would have a bad dream. Nubbins always held him tight and Bobby did the same when Nubbins had a nightmare. He always held Nubbins close, made sure he would stop crying before Drayton or Ma came upstairs.

“I’ve - I’ve got you Nubs.” He whispered, face buried in the rotting hair. “Y-you’re okay. I’m home.”

It wasn’t until a week later that Drayton and Bubba saw Choptop. He had been keeping himself tucked away in his room since he found out. Somewhere he was safe. With someone he felt safe with. A corpse he felt safe with. Choptop trudged down the stairs, his usual cheery and manic tone back in action. He held the corpse close to his side. Drayton was in the kitchen at the time, cooking some poor soul into chili. “M-me n’ Nubbins are gonna go out!” He called. Drayton glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed.

“What the hell?” Bobby already had the door open before he could say anything more. “Let’s haul butt, bro!”

[jokeroutsubs]

[ENG translation] Joker Out masterfully overpowered Stožice & Joker Out’s magical night: Sold out Stožice rode the new wave

A combined news report from 24ur.com and RTV Slovenija MMC about the Stožice spectacle.

Original articles written by Boštjan Tušek for 24ur.com and Niko Hari for MMC RTV SLO on 07.10.2023.

English translation by a member of JokerOutSubs, proofread by @flowerlotus8

Joker Out is doing what no Slovenian Eurovision representative has ever done before. They have made the most out of their unenviable position at one of the biggest music spectacles in the world, better than some of the musicians who could boast a much better position in the final. Kris, Nace, Bojan, Jure and Jan have won over many new fans all over Europe, singing their hits in Slovenian. Yesterday, they crowned their dream musical year with an exceptional concert in Ljubljana's Stožice Arena. In front of their most loyal fans in a packed arena, they've proved once again that they stand side by side with the big names of Slovenian music, and are certainly the hottest Slovenian band at the moment, both at home and abroad.

Joker Out put on the greatest concert spectacle of their careers in Stožice. PHOTO: Miro Majcen (24ur.com)

The stage was warmed up by Buč Kesidi, Zoran Zarubica and Luka Racić, an indie rock duo who have now returned the favour to the Jokers after both bands performed in reverse order at Zagreb's Šalata in the summer. "We met Joker Out last year at Kino Šiška when Bojan and Magnifico were doing push-ups backstage (laughs). At first we didn't believe them when they said they booked Stožice, so we did our best to sell out Šalata, where they were our support act. They managed to achieve a lot more than most in the music business, which is unbelievable. We like it in Slovenia, and Joker Out's breakthrough has helped others, because they've proved that you can succeed in your own language, people sing along with them. They've shown that you can achieve anything with music, if you believe in yourself and love what you do," Luka and Zoran told us, performing an energetic half-hour indie rock lesson with songs like 'Euforija', 'Curimo po asfaltu' and 'Nema ljubavi u klubu', which, as well as being melodic, also have pop and dance elements.

In the almost completely dark Stožice Arena, the first lonely cries of enthusiasm were heard, which quickly spread into the mass ecstasy of the (on average) young audience. Some of them started counting down the minutes until 9pm, when the concert should at least officially start. "I'm going to faint", a boy could be heard who, since the opening of the arena gates a good two hours before the concert, had been "suffering" for the prestigious and numerically limited places in front of the barricade that separated the fans from the band.

The audience provided a great atmosphere. PHOTO: MMC RTV SLO/Blaž Plut

"Only a minute left," remarked a fan a few spaces closer to the centre of the stage. "No, it's not happening," the girl couldn't believe the escalating tension as the others counted down the seconds loudly: "Five, four, three, two, one..." To the tenth of a second, the screens behind the stage lit up and the door to backstage appeared for a moment.

Bojan and company are in great concert condition. PHOTO: Miro Majcen (24ur.com)

A few minutes before 9pm, "the final countdown" started, when we could see on a giant semicircular screen, the stars of the evening getting ready in the last moments before they actually took the stage. At the appointed hour, Bojan appeared on stage in a black and purple shirt with his name embroidered on black trousers, Jan in a sheer black mesh shirt with Idrija lace sewed onto it, Kris in a black glitter top with gloves for sleeves and black silk trousers, Nace in a sleeveless black T-shirt with jewellery hanging over his black trousers, and Jure in a black jacket with shiny fringe, which he quickly took off so that during the concert his torso was adorned only with shiny jewellery.

Jan had a chance to let his hair down during one of his guitar solos. PHOTO: Miro Majcen (24ur.com)

It went dark again, and the screams in the jam packed arena got even louder. When the black-and-white image of the massive doors reappeared on the screens, they opened to the delight of the audience, from the backstage the Joker Out boys let their fans know that it was finally time for their biggest gig yet.

The electrifying atmosphere just before the band's arrival on stage send shivers down the spine even of the most apathetic in the arena, who had been merely accompanying the biggest fans. It was really hard to remain indifferent to such a reception of the beloved ones of this year's Stožice audience. "Scream as loud as you can", commanded the lyrics of the opening song 'Sunny Side of London', and the fans didn't have to be asked twice for a roaring response.

Proven to be the loudest fans of Joker Out. PHOTO: MMC RTV SLO/Blaž Plut

"Stožice, are you really here? Oh my God, I can't believe it, this is it. We've waited a year for this event, a lot has happened in between, 110 times we thought it wouldn't happen at all," Bojan Cvjetićanin greeted the excited audience and invited even those furthest away in the red ring to join in the noisy record attempt. The band measures the loudness of the fans at the venue at all concerts of the tour, and the Ljubljana one set a new milestone at the Joker Out concerts - 127.9 decibels.

The enthusiasm was intensified during the songs 'Bele sanje', 'Plastika' and 'Proti toku', when smoke cannons appeared as well, which provided an additional visual effect. Otherwise, we were able to follow the action on two gigantic screens at the side and a semicircular one in the middle, where the transmission was mostly with special colour-visual effects. The Jokers let us know that the spectacle meant a lot to them, as we don't often see such screens, both in size and quality, and they "put in the bin" most of the world-famous artists or bands.

Nace and Kris in action. PHOTO: Miro Majcen (24ur.com)

"Let's pretend we're in a club for 200 people, that we can all see each other. Hi, hi, hi... also to all of you who came from abroad," Bojan suggested and then greeted in English all those who came to listen to them from other countries. He told us that the people at the concert were from 27 countries, besides Slovenia, Croatia, Austria, Germany, Poland, Serbia, Italy, the Czech Republic, also Finland, Denmark, the USA, Canada, Ukraine, the UK, Luxembourg, and supposedly four people were even from Fiji.

"Thank you for being our Dopamine", he announced the next song, and with 'Padam' everyone on stage literally fell on the floor, and performed the song mostly lying down, they continued with the slightly trippy song 'Demoni' in Serbo-Croatian, where the singer proved that he would also be good in a metal band, as he pulled a growl from the bottom of his soul during the end of the dark song, which even the most skilled singers of the heavy genre would not be ashamed of. And then they played 'Katrina', which they usually play as the opening song. They were joined by a brass trio on trumpet, trombone and saxophone for 'A sem ti povedal' and 'Omamljeno telo'. "This is the best club of our lives!" the singer told the Stožice audience, continuing his story about how we should all imagine we were at a small, intimate concert.

Bojan sang the song 'Padam' ('I'm Falling') appropriately to its title - lying down. PHOTO: MMC RTV SLO/Blaž Plut

Another phenomenon of Joker Out is their fans, who practically know the lyrics to the entire discography of the band. It's rare to see concerts in (for Slovenian conditions) large venues, where the audience sings every single verse of the songs in unison. The band's fans already proved their devotion at the concert in Križanke, where the lyrics of the songs from the then-fresh album Demoni resonated just a few days after its release.

"It's the third time we've been on the Stožice stage, twice we've been the opening act of the opening act. The first time was in 2017, where we played our very first single. We don't play that song anymore, but since this is our first solo concert in Stožice, we have to. Before the concert, many people asked us if we would bring any special guests, but this is our first solo concert, so the only suitable guests are Martin Jurkovič and Matic Kovačič," said Cvjetićanin. The audience enthusiastically greeted the original band members, who followed the crowd with looks of amazement, while the original band played their debut song - 'Kot srce, ki kri poganja'.

The eighty minutes of the concert were brought to an official end with the songs 'Metulji', 'Vse kar vem', 'Barve oceana', which were enriched with solos by Kris, Jan and Jure, and the final trio was provided by the songs 'Ngvot', 'Vem da greš' and 'Ne bi smel'. Even though the black background with credits was being played in front of our eyes, like the end of a movie, nobody wanted to believe that this was really the end.

They closed with Carpe Diem, a superb performance in front of 12,000 people. PHOTO: Miro Majcen (24ur.com)

Which it really wasn't, as the boys quickly returned to the stage and played 'Ona', with the brass section back, 'Tokio' and 'Umazane misli'. For the latter, the arena was flooded with giant white inflated balloons, to the delight of everyone, who passed them back and forth in the hall, tirelessly and with great joy. The penultimate song of the evening was the great song 'Novi val', when the coloured lights on mobile phones lit up the arena, thanks to a few girls who, before the start, handed out triangles made of coloured paper that could be attached to the lights on the phones. "Thank you for enjoying the new wave", said Bojan at the end.

After a short Eurovision introduction of some of the inserts they recorded alongside their Eurovision experience in Liverpool, the boys changed into the outfits they wore right in front of the multi-million Eurovision audience and performed 'Carpe Diem'. "Thank you for the most magical evening of our lives. We love you, thank you for being here, appreciate each other, love each other and seize every day!" said the singer at the end. It was the icing on the cake of a perfect evening, which was surely the highlight of their young lives and a new (probably golden) tick on the list of great achievements of their ever-blossoming career.

Those who remembered the concert in Križanke were waiting for a surprise after the last song, when the band returned to the stage once more and repeated 'Katrina', but every concert has to end sometime.

At the press conference

"I had a lot of feelings for after the concert, but I honestly have no sense of what's actually going on at the moment," the singer confessed to the Seventh Power after the concert, and others confirmed that they felt the same way. "I feel like we're going on a tour of these halls now," Jure added humorously.

After the concert, they were happy and euphoric, but admitted to being completely empty-headed. PHOTO: Miro Majcen (24ur.com)

What about tears of happiness, cries of relief and weights off your minds? "So far we've only been under a shower of happiness, and the tears usually come the next day when we melt in our mother's arms," said Jan nonchalantly, as only he can. "Why don't we cry, we cried after Cvetličarna and after Križanke, a lot. Why not here? We said before the concert that we couldn't wait to cry after the concert, because we haven't cried for a long time, but I can say that I hope with all my heart that it will really happen in a mother's arms," the singer mused. "I cried during 'Novi val', I had a genuine experience," Kris joked.

Joker Out are going on a joint holiday to Thailand, then from the end of October onwards they will play concerts in Novi Sad, Vienna, Belgrade, Zagreb, Warsaw, Prague, Amsterdam, Madrid, Barcelona, Wroclaw, Poznan and more, and in December you can also catch them in Celje, Maribor and Novo mesto.

[hornymggstan]

After all this time?; Cristiano Ronaldo

Two years had passed since you last saw your best friend. He had left Portugal for Spain to expand his football career and join a team. You yourself recommended it to him after watching him play throughout his life trying so hard to go far, because you also trusted what he could do. You also recommended it to him, because you hadn't thought about all the time you weren't going to see him. You lied when you told him not to think so important and that you didn't miss him madly.

Cristiano and you have known each other for more than ten years and throughout your life you have been asked many times if you were a couple, you always denied it with a certain disgust, as if it was crazy, but deep down you knew that you would not dislike the idea of dating the attractive soccer player you had as a friend. Clearly you never confessed it to him because it could go very wrong and ruin your relationship, so in that time when Cris wasn't around, you tried to meet new people to distract your head, and, why not, find a part-time lover.

When you entered university you met a boy named Lionel who sat next to you. The both chatted a couple of times from the moment he went to class wearing a T-shirt from your favorite band "The Strokes" If there was something you liked in boys it was that they have good musical tastes, and this was the case with this boy. A few days ago the teacher had given the instructions for a work in pairs and you had no better idea than to do it together. Leo would go to your house that afternoon to meet, what you didn't know is that someone else had also planned to go to your house that afternoon, but as a surprise.

Half past three in the afternoon and the doorbell rang at your house. You finished accommodating the books and went to open the door. By the time you could see what was behind it, you had to hold on to the frame "Have you missed me darling?" There he was, your best friend was back. "CRISTIANO" You said as you detached yourself from the door to jump into his arms. You didn't remember hugging him so tight ever, you really missed him. "What the hell are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in Spain? "Well I missed my family and I also wanted to tell you that-" "Wait, let's go home because it looks like it's going to rain and I don't want you to catch a cold"

When the both entered you noticed that he had a confused face "Did something happen?" You asked curiously "Why is everything so arranged and why is there a snack for two prepared? Were you expecting someone else?" "Actually-" You were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell "Yes, I invited a friend to do some university work at home, I hope you don't mind" You told him as you reached the front door, which you opened with a huge smile,naccording to Cristiano, who had changed his expression from confused to furious.

"I brought yerba to drink mate, it's a very common drink in Argentina and I think you'll like it" "Awww leo thanks, now let's go inside because it's cold and raining" As soon as you closed the door you noticed the tension that existed among your guests, but you decided to ignore her "Well, let me introduce you, Cris this is Leo, a friend from uni and Leo this is Cris, a childhood friend" "BEST friend, you mean" the Portuguese plaintiff corrected. Both, Leo and you, looked at each other being complicit in a clear scene of jealousy "Well, let's get to work"

This is how the afternoon passed, Leo and you did what you had to do. You laughed and drank mate with biscuits while Cristiano watched the scene from affair, although they offered him several times to join the conversation, he just shook his head.

"Well, thanks for coming leo, I had a lot of fun, see you on Monday!" "I'm saying the same y/n, greetings to you and your friend!" Your coworker said as he walked out the door.

"May I know why you laughed so much with him?" The Portuguese blurted out "Because at least he spoke, not like others who sit with an ass face judging with their eyes, oh and I didn't like that little scene you did at the beginning Cristiano, nothing at all" "And how do you want me to react if MY best friend just replaces me as if nothing?" "SORRY? AS IF NOTHING? YOU WERE THE ONE WHO DIDN'T WRITE TO ME FOR TWO YEARS CRISTIANO, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I MISSED YOU AND HOW MUCH IT HURTS ME TO SEE THAT YOU NEVER REMEMBERED ME" You were furious. Like nothing? He didn't know how much you missed him? "DO YOU THINK I HAD TIME TO WRITE YOU? I COULDN'T EVEN WRITE TO MY PARENTS" They were both silent "I missed you a lot too, more than you can imagine, I missed your hugs, your face, your voice, seeing your eyes, god I missed you so much y/n, and when I saw that another person arrived I was afraid, I was afraid because I thought I had lost my chance" "Your chance for what?" "From this" And before you could react, he grabbed you by the waist, attracting you to him and the both melted into a passionate kiss. You separated due to lack of air and once ecovered it, you kissed again. It was as if the both could finally demonstrate that desire that they had.

They separated and looked into each other's eyes, and the only thing they could say was "I love you".