#im too tired to tag anything else rip

[twisting-in-wonderland]

some misc twst + pkmn doodles that are in varying states of completion--

(wips under here lol)

[adieutristana]

Hi hi hi! Was wondering if you could do a jinx x reader fic where instead of ekko saving her from blowing herself up it was the reader

Tyy <333

of course! thank you for the request <3

two out of three finals knocked out, then one more tomorrow and im free 💔

summary: fem! reader saves jinx from blowing herself up.

characters included: jinx

tags/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, suicidal ideation, mentions of poor mental health, s2 spoilers, (some) fluff at the end, reader does not have ekko's time traveling skills (sorry)

men dni.

jinx stands on a ledge, dark tears staining her pale cheeks. long, blue braids gone. her shoes taken away, nail beds raw. she stands, with one of her own bombs, pulling at the safety pin. testing her own fate with each pull growing stronger and stronger.

pulling, pulling, pulling.

until she hears your footsteps, slowly looking over her shoulder. jinx looks through you, her eyes so utterly blank and dull. she looks so… defeated. she’s out of energy and out of resolve. she doesn’t say anything to you, though, only turns back to the bomb in her hands. pulling the pin one more time-

until you wordlessly sprint towards her, throwing your arms around her in a way that miraculously didn’t throw her off her balance. clasping both hands over hers, physically restraining her from putting the bomb to use.

“please, jinx, can we talk about this?”

you plead, your eyes desperately searching for any kind of reason. her eyes are downcast, her face relaxed. too relaxed. her voice comes out in a soft yet exhausted whisper.

“leave me alone, (y/n).”

“no.”

jinx tries to wriggle her hands out of your grasp, her shoulders thrashing with the movements and face contorting. she’s impatient. she wants to do this and get it over with.

“you’re too late.”

she says, still trying to escape your hold. still grasping her bomb, desperately trying to find any kind of purchase. anything. she’s given up, she’s done. there isn’t a point.

“too late for what?”

you gasp, now in a full wrestle with your girlfriend. wrapped around jinx from behind, your hands over hers, sharp nails scratching your skin and jinx writhing. grunting. she’s so frustrated yet so empty, and it makes your heart ache inside your chest. with the loss of isha, being thrown in jail, losing almost everyone she had… you understood jinx. finding motivation to keep living was already difficult enough for her, but almost all of those things had been ripped away from her.

it rips you into pieces seeing your girlfriend like this. you’ve seen it all: her breakdowns. screaming and crying because voices and hallucinations won’t leave her alone. her trying to act as if she doesn’t care when she gets blown off by her sister. coming home with bruises and cuts from god knows where after a mission, or even worse, coming home an inch from death. but never have you seen jinx like this.

jinx’s knees buckle under her and she falls to the ground, but your grasp is still strong.

“drop it, jinx.”

“no.”

“drop it.”

and to your surprise, she does drop it. you hoped to whatever was out there that this was the end of it, that she would give up. she would go home with you and finally tell you exactly what brought her to this point. stationery, the bomb falls on the floor, rolling away from the both of you and jinx staying in that kneeling position.

until she doesn’t.

“i’m tired of talking.”

she mutters under her breath, making her way to a ledge without so much as looking back at you. your senses are blown into full panic mode as you spring to your feet to sprint towards her, reaching for her braids to restrain her from stepping over- but they’re gone. your hand shot to the clasp of her top. holding jinx in place as if her life depended on it, probably because it did.

“jinx, baby, please. i know that things have been hard, you’re not happy. but you have to stay alive. for me, if nothing or nobody else. please.”

you plead. you circle jinx to stand in front of her, placing your hands on her shoulders gently. almost afraid that she’ll break if you handle her too harshly, especially after just restraining her to stop her from killing herself. your eyes are filled with tears just waiting to spill, your lips pressed into a thin line. and then you feel jinx begin to tremble.

like a bridge that's lost its foundation, shaking and threatening to combust. her breathing is getting quicker, her eyes are darting from place to place to place, but never once settling on you.

"jinx."

you squeeze her shoulders, looking into her eyes, desperately trying to get through to your girlfriend. there has to be something you can do, surely. how come nothing is working? you've already pulled out all of the stops, what more could you do? what, if anything, would be successful? the tears in your eyes spill over, but you don't make any sound. you can't. you have to hold it together for jinx's sake.

jinx swallows tentatively. quivering.

"i... i can't do this anymore."

"of course you can," you whisper. reaching up to cup one of her cheeks with your hand, but she jerks away.

"everyone i get close to dies. or they leave. mylo, claggor, vander, isha... will you be next?"

she asks, finally locking eyes with you. it's clear that it's a rhetorical question- jinx doesn't want an answer. she wouldn't be able to handle an answer, not right now.

“no. no. i’m not leaving, jinx- and i don’t plan on dying any time soon. please, listen to me.”

you beg her, still looking into her eyes, half-lidded and glowing pink. one hand coming up to try and cup jinx’s cheek again, and this time, she allows it. this is a good sign. you’re getting somewhere.

“i have to break the cycle. i have to do something to fix all of this,” she says. “i’ve done so much i can’t come back from. what else is there to do?”

“walk away.” you whisper.

“what?”

“walk away. you don’t need to die, jinx, walk away. go somewhere. take me with you. you can still break the cycle without doing this.”

your thumb is brushing her cheek, your own cheeks stained with dried tears.

“what is your death going to fix? if anything, it’ll cause more pain. zaun will be fine if you walk away, but could you imagine what would happen if you died?”

jinx looks down, and another tear falls from your eye.

“please, you have to stay. i’ll come with you. i’ll do anything. just please, baby, don’t die. i don’t know what i would do with myself if you did.”

you plead with jinx. desperation is obvious in your tone, her jaw quivering, threatening to cry herself. she’s spent.

you feel jinx’s hand slowly, hesitantly coming to rest atop yours on her cheek, and all she does is nod. slowly.

“let’s go home.”

you whisper, brushing a lock of hair from out of her eyes.

“what do i do from here?”

jinx asks, her voice low and unsure.

“we’ll figure something out. i promise.”

[cheriedivine]

Deeply still in love

♡‧₊˚₊✧ pairing: Ellie Williams x Fem reader (No use of y/n)

♡‧₊˚₊✧ summary: Ellie Williams doesn’t do feelings. She buries them under alcohol, weed and strangers lips, but the moment she hears your voice again, everything she’s shoved down, claws its way back up.

♡‧₊˚₊✧ CW: References to substance abuse (weed, alcohol), Mild suggestive themes, Unrequited love, Swearing, emotional themes. (Lmk if i missed anything!)

♡‧₊˚₊✧ Tags: Angst/heartbreak, Ellies is a fuck boy, just pain tbh

♡‧₊˚₊✧ Author’s note: ok so this is my first time ever writing something for Ellie and it’s heavily based on Role Model’s song Deeply still in love bc i fucking love that song and I thought it would be a good angsty emotional one shot so yeah… hope u guys enjoy it and english is not my first language so excuse any grammar mistakes oki luv yall bye.

♡‧₊˚₊✧ WC: 3.6K

୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧

“I think i still love you, deep down i know i never stopped loving you-“ Ellie scratched it out, watching the ink dry down on the page in her journal, the words of what she just wrote frozen on her mind, her breath was shallow, like she was afraid the air would judge her for it. She crossed the sentence out, one, two, three times until the paper on her journal ripped.

“Jesus Ellie, you might wanna breathe before your face starts turning purple- what’s up with that?”

Jesse interrupted her thoughts as he looked down at Ellie’s previously destroyed journal page, placing the two cups of coffee down at the table, the coffee shop they were at was cozy but drowned in people, making Ellie’s thoughts quieted down a bit as she closed the journal on her lap and took the hot cup of coffee “it’s nothing just… thoughts” she said while taking a sip of her coffee, the bitter taste burning her tongue

“Yeah well it looked like you were about to collapse or die” He flopped into the chair across from hers with a furrowed expression, “Anyway, maybe you should take your thinking somewhere else tonight and come with me and Dina to this party tonight” The black haired boy suggested, but Ellie wasn’t paying him much attention until she heard him clicking his fingers in front of her face “Hello earth to Ellie? Did you hear anything I said?” Ellie rolled her eyes, but if she was being honest her mind was wandering somewhere else, or on someone else “Sorry man im just not here today, what’s going on?” Jesse huffed getting annoyed by the girl’s lack of attention “You. Me. Dina. Party. Tonight?” He took the cup of coffee up to his mouth awaiting his friend’s response.

Ellie didn’t answer right away, tracing her finger on the rim of her cup, eyes fixed on the steam coming out of it like smoke signals no one else could read.

“Is ‘you know who’ going to be there?” the auburn haired girl finally responded, afraid but curious of what his response might be, her stomach twirled at the thought of you being there.

“Dude its been more than six months,” Jesse said with a tired tone. “You’ve hooked up with like three different girls since then, I thought you were over it”.

Ellie let out a short breath, bitter, like the coffee on her hands.

Over it.

Yeah sure. It’s been 8 months exactly since you broke up with Ellie, you didn’t exactly end up on bad terms, but it was like something was ripped off from her, a part of her was still waiting for you to come back, but how could she blame you for not to?. It was always like this, Ellie shut down when things got too real, she bottled up all these emotions and when the weight of it caught up to her it became too heavy to carry. You kept reaching for anything, like screaming to a wall, while she just kept pulling away, slowly and painfully. It wasn’t because she didn’t care, but because she cared too much. And that scared the shit out of her.

She hated talking about her feelings, she hated the vulnerability of it, the rawness, she hated being seen too clearly. But you- you saw her like no one else ever had, you saw her through like a window on a road trip, never scared of the road, never afraid of where it might take you, but she shut you down over and over, until you got tired of knocking on a door that would never fully open.

Ellie never blamed you for leaving, the look on your eye when the words slipped of your lips when you called it off still haunted her on her dreams till this day “I love you Ellie, but i can’t be the only one bleeding for us”

She just stood there, breathing through her nose, her heart pounding like a drum, she felt like it might rip out of her chest, and maybe it did because her words got caught up in her throat and tears started brewing in her emerald eyes when you left without slamming the door, that’s how she knew she really fucked up, that this was real, and you and her were done.

So yeah 8 painfully slow months have passed since that, and even though Ellie kissed strangers in bars, she closed her eyes with your name stuck behind teeth, going through bodies like maybe she could fit into a different pair of arms that could be warm enough to forget your face, your lips or the way your eyes would light up when you kissed her, but no stranger could ever replace that, replace you. It always came back to you. It didn’t matter how many mouths she kissed or how many bodies she explored, coming back to a cold bed made the emptiness crawl back like an old friend, and only made your absence more painful. But still she kept doing it, as if it were a miracle move-on-drug.

Ellie blinked out of the memory, the cup in her hands cold and long forgotten, she placed it back on the table before answering to her friend.

“Whatever man just text me the address and I might consider it” She thought the party wasn’t such a bad idea, she could have a couple drinks and hook up with some stranger she just met like she has been doing for the past months.

Jesse raised a brow, not buying into her sudden shift of tone. “That didn’t sound like a ‘fuck yeah I’m down for a party’. It sounded more like you’re planning to drink cheap booze until you forget your name and make out with someone you won’t remember the next day.”

The girl shrugged, “So what, none of your goddamn business”

Jesse stared at her for a second, like he wanted to say something, the words on the tip of his tongue but he swallowed them right up and sighed leaning back in his chair. “you do you, Ellie. Just… stop pretending it's helping.”

That definitely hit a nerve, but Ellie didn't flinch, nor said anything. He continued, a little softer this time, like a secret apology. “I'll text you the address. You don't have to come, but maybe you should. Think about it.”

With that the boy stood up grabbing his empty cup and left the coffee shop. An awkward silence filled the room, Ellie’s jaw tightened, at the end he was right, having sex with strangers wasnt exactly therapy but it got her through… in some fucked up way. Was it wrong? Maybe, Ellie never texted back any girl ever and just ghosted when she got what she needed. Toss and turn.

Later that day Ellie texted Jesse, briefly apologizing for being a dick to which he responded “When aren't you?.” Asshole. He sent her the address and by 9:30 Ellie was getting ready to leave. She stood in front of the mirror, jaw working as she tugged the black tank top over her head, the hem settling just above the waistband of her old patched up jeans, nothing very special- she didn't do special- hesitating on putting on a jacket or no, Jackson weather you never know. Her eyes lingered on her reflection for a little too long. The tank clung to her body in a familiar way. Safe. The jeans were her most reliable ones, just like her old converse she’d laced up so many times they were practically molded to her.

“Not a big deal, just another stupid party.” She ran her hands through her shaggy hair and decided she won’t put that much effort into it, bars are often dark so who cares- certainly not her. She took one last glance at the mirror before putting on Joel's old jacket and walking through the door of her apartment. The familiar weight of the jacket calmed her nerves a bit but not as much as the blunt in her fingers, she had stocked a few days ago, and a little pre game never fails to calm her down so she lit it up while waiting for Jesse and Dina to pull up the driveway. Jesse had offered to drive her to the party alongside Dina, even though Ellie had her own truck (an old ford truck inherited from Joel) he said it would be better if he was the assigned driver if they got a little too tipsy.

She often wondered how those too could stand each other for so long, when Ellie met Jesse at College he was already dating Dina and it’s been 4 years since then. They weren’t the perfect couple but surely knew how to get on each other's nerves, still always figured it out at the end. Ellie admired them for that and wished she was a little more like them.

Soon her thoughts dissolved into the crisp air of the night when Jesse pulled up on the driveway, he honked the horn as if the blinding lights didn't catch Ellie’s attention enough, “You are such an attention whore.” Ellie said, flicking the blunt away and stuffing her hands deep into the jacket pockets before entering the car.

The drive to the party was loud- music blasting, windows cracked, a new blunt being passed around like part of the ritual (courtesy of Ellie of course). It was their usual pregame, the kind that made her forget, even if just for a moment. With her friends, it was easy to laugh, to lean into the chaos and pretend the weight in her chest wasn’t still there. These were the moments that reminded Ellie not everything was awful. But the rush- the high, always felt like the drop of a roller coaster. And when Jesse finally parked the car, reality hit. Another night of pretending. Pretending nothing mattered, pretending the burn inside her wasn’t still there, quietly eating her alive.

“Don’t forget to rate me 5 stars and leave a tip” Jesse said jokingly, distracting Ellie from her self destructive thoughts”

Dina was the first one to enter the bar, the music almost deafening, the track was some popular song Ellie heard at the radio before, she didn't like it, but also didn’t exactly hate it. The place was packed as it usually is every Friday night, overflowing with bodies, laughter layering the loud music, and some good ol�� bar fight probably. Ellie trailed behind Jesse and Dina, already feeling the buzz fade into something heavier. She slipped her hands back into Joel’s jacket, like it would shield her from everything the weed could not.

They found a booth near the back, where the speakers didn’t rattle your bones quite as much. Dina, being the social butterfly she is, immediately recognized someone across the room, an old college classmate, but for Ellie it was one of those people who always remembers your face but not your name. Seconds later Jesse slid into the booth, scanning the bar like a minefield.

“Shot first, existential crisis later?” he offered, holding up two fingers to the bartender across the room.

Ellie nodded, managing a half-smile. “Make it three.”

As the night went on (and so did the shots) Ellie was sitting alone in the booth, Dina and Jesse long gone, probably dancing or making out somewhere in the dark, Ellie decided it was probably time for a smoke, to calm the headache she was starting to feel. She grabbed her jacket from her seat and made a beeline to the exit, the chill breeze of Jackson hitting her face like a slap she probably deserved.

Leaning against the crumbling brick wall outside the bar, the noise from inside was muffled out there. She pulled the blunt from her pocket, already half-rolled from earlier, and lit it with a practiced flick of her lighter, the smoke greeted her lungs like an old friend, welcoming the burn in her throat, grounding her a little as she exhaled through her nose. She took a second hit leaning her head against the wall, watching the people coming in and out of the bar, people watching was Ellie’s favorite activity while smoking, also because she could use it as an opportunity to check girls out, but that's when she saw you.

At least—she thought she did.

You were slipping through the bar’s entrance, swallowed up by a crowd of loud, laughing strangers. Just a flash of your face, the way your hair moved, throwing your head back laughing like someone who wasn’t her told the funniest joke of the world. Ellie blinked. Hard.

“No fucking way.” She cursed under her breath, squinting her eyes trying to steady herself. Was it the mix of weed and cheap alcohol in her system playing fucked up mind tricks on her? Either way, it didn't matter because she was already walking towards the crowd of people, like some magnetic force was pulling her in.

She pushed past two guys arguing about the cover charge. Her heart was thudding now—not like excitement. More like panic.

Inside, the lights hit her all wrong, too sharp, too bright. The music pulsed against her ribs. She scanned the crowd, pushing through, zeroing in on the back of that girl’s head.

Same jacket. Same posture. Same everything.

“Hey—” she started, grabbing the mysterious woman by the arm but when the girl turned around, it wasn’t you.

Of course it wasn’t you.

Her grip softened and she let go, the girl glared at her confused, and now Ellie could see, could really see that her eyes weren’t the same color as yours, her smile wasn’t as bright and welcoming as yours. And the worst part it’s not that she made a fool of herself, but that the girl was looking at her like she was a complete stranger. Which she was but to Ellie’s brain it just felt like she got hit by a thousand trains.

The brunette stepped back, the weight in her chest doubling. Her hands were shaking a little now, or maybe they always had been. She didn’t say anything. Just turned and pushed her way back outside.Too embarrassed to even apologize.

She felt like throwing up.

She found an empty corner right next to the bar, hunched over with her hands on her knees, breath coming sharp and uneven, gasping for air like she just ran a marathon. Her heart slammed heavily on her chest.

The cold didn’t even bother her this time. Her shaky hands reaching for her phone in the back pocket of her jeans, Her mind was fogged over, drifting somewhere else entirely. It was like she was watching herself from outside her own body.she didn’t know what she was doing just moving, automatic, like muscle memory took over, her fingers were clicking and swiping and then suddenly—

“Hello?”

The voice on the other end was soft, confused.

Her head snapped up. She blinked at the screen in her hand.

Call in progress — You.

A beat of silence passed before she even realized what she’d done. Her breath hitched.

“…Shit.”

Your voice. Caught between sleepy and annoyed.

“Who’s this? Do you have any idea how late it is?”

Ellie’s breath hitched. For a second, she considered hanging up. Throwing the phone into the street. Pretending this never happened. But she wasn’t running this time.

“…It’s me.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Ellie.”

Silence. The kind that says everything and nothing at once.

“Ellie?”

Your voice softened. Then came the question she knew was coming—

“What– Why are you calling?”

She looked down at her converse, swallowing hard.

“I– I don't know I wasn't planning to, I'm just–” She tried to laugh it off. She couldn't believe this was happening.

“Are you drunk?” Your tone firm and dry

“I’m sorry i shouldn't have called , i dont know what the fuck im doing ok? I literally just called someone else your name. Just now.”

A shaky breath.

“Stupid, right?”

You didn't say anything, Ellies fingers tightened around the phone and your silence was enough to keep her bleeding. She was surprised that you hadn't hung up on her yet.

So Ellie kept talking.

“And I… I thought maybe if I just shoved it deep enough, it’d go away. Y’know? This—this fucking feeling. This ache that’s been stuck in me since you left. And I keep trying to bury it, like if I fake it hard enough, maybe it’ll stop hurting but it doesn’t. None of it works. Everything feels so…pointless. Like it doesn’t mean anything because… because there’s no you anymore.”

She breathes in sharp—like it physically hurts to say the next part.

“And burying it doesn’t fix shit. ‘Cause I still—”

A pause, her voice breaking on the edge. She didn't even realize tears had fallen down her freckled face. Savouring the salty drops as she opened her mouth.

“I still love you.”

There it was. She said it and she couldn't take it back anymore. It was real, and you were silent. Just like she had been when you were begging her to say something back then. Funny how life goes huh?

Silence. Again. you were completely frozen like you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. But your thoughts vanished when a female voice called you up.

“Who is it babe?”

Babe.

Ellie froze. Her stomach twisted, breath catching like it forgot how to move.

Babe.

You didn’t answer the girl right away. But you didn’t deny it, either.

Ellie bit her cheek until she tasted blood. The universe was getting a big fucking laugh out from her. There was a long pause. Too long.

You didn’t mean to let it stretch, but your breath caught somewhere in your throat, and the words wouldn’t come out right.

When you finally spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper.

“…Ellie.”

She didn’t say anything. You could hear her breathing—shaky, uneven, like she was crying?

“You can’t say things like that. Not now.”

You sounded softer than you meant to. Not angry. Just… broken.

“It’s not fair.”

Another pause. You swallowed hard.

“I have to go– I'm sorry, you should go home and sober up and just forget about it ok? That this phone call ever happened at all.”

You hesitated, like your heart was trying to claw its way out of your throat.

“Please.”

It came out barely audible. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

A silence lingered between you, thick with everything neither of you were saying.

“You don’t get to do this now, Ellie. Not after all the times I waited for you to mean it.”

Your voice cracked.

And before Ellie could speak—before she could take it back, or say she was sorry again—

“Goodbye Ellie”

You hung up. The line went dead.

She backed into the wall behind her sliding down until she was sitting on the cold concrete, knees pulled in tight, Joel’s jacket wrapped around her like it might protect her from this ache.

But it didn’t.

She let her head fall forward, resting it on her arms. The tears came slowly at first, stubborn like her. But once they started, they didn’t stop. Silent, messy, no control. Her shoulders shook, her breath catching in her throat like she couldn’t even cry right.

“Fuck this” She muttered.

You didn’t say you didn’t love her.

You said it was too late.

Somehow, that hurt worse.

The words echoed in her skull. She let out a choked laugh—bitter and hollow. She hated how much it still mattered. Hated that she called you. Hated herself for waiting this long to say it, for saying it now, when it meant nothing anymore.

She sat there until her fingers went numb, until the night felt like it was swallowing her whole.

Her phone kept ringing like crazy, probably a worried Dina or a very upset Jesse at the end of the line. She ignored it, because it wasn't you.

Eventually, she stood—slow, unsteady, like her body was made of glass. Her jacket hung heavy on her shoulders, soaked in the scent of cheap beer, smoke, and everything she didn’t want to feel. She made her way back inside of the bar, reckless and hurt, in search of a body that could keep her warm tonight, someone to blur the edges, to drown out the echo of your voice still ringing in her head.

Maybe, just for a second, it would feel like she wasn’t completely alone.

The music hit her like a wave—loud, chaotic, the kind of beat that made it easy to forget. She didn’t care who was watching, or that her eyes were red and her face puffy. She moved through the crowd like a ghost with a drink in hand, brushing past strangers until she locked eyes with someone—pretty, familiar enough, not you.

Never you.

“Hey,” she said, voice low and rough. “Buy you a drink?”

The girl smiled, said something back—Ellie didn’t really hear it.

Didn’t matter.

She just needed something to ease the pain.

Even if it was empty.

Even if it was fake.

Even if it hurt worse in the morning.

She leaned in, chasing a flame that would burn out, pretending it didn’t sting when it wasn’t your hands she felt.

Pretending she didn’t just shatter a little more when the girl kissed her and all she could think was—

You.

It was still you.

Always you.

୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧───

hope u guys liked it and lmk whatchu think, i’m open to suggestions and if u have any requests don’t hesitate to hmu <3!!!

[yae-energy]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ╰┈─✩ ˚ ‧ closet tour ! ‧ ˚

✧˖° synopsis : commonly worn items (or accessories) these characters may have .

✧˖° cast & crew : megumi fushiguro , maki zenin , yuji itadori , and yuta okkotsu .

.ᐟ content warnings : cursing , yuta lwk fighting for his life

⤑ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ authors note : new layout !!!! we finally ditched the old one cause it was def time for her to GO 😭. all pictures down below are just for visual aid :)

~

megumi <3 : friendship bracelets

he’s got so many of them, mf got one in every damn pattern and color you can think of. and he only has this many because one summer nobara got into bracelet making.

she convinced gojo to buy her a bunch of kits and she’s been a little busy bee since ! so now every time she shows up with a new bracelet megumi feels like he has to wear it— or at least this is what he claims whenever he gets asked about it.

he actually thinks it’s sweet she’s always giving him bracelets, he’s got one for almost every outfit so it’s always coordinating !

he even wears the matching one she made for him and yuji so the three of them are always matching.

~

maki <3 : hair clips / claw clips

she absolutely hated them at first ngl

the only reason she started wearing them was because gojo would alwayssssssssssss buy them for her ,,

like for no good reason either, literally just cause she’s a teenage girl and sometimes girls wear hair clips. he also said she could spruce up her style a little bit because she’s “bland” and maki didn’t take that well 😭

one day though, she actually wore one of the claw clips he got her because she had no more hair ties and everybody thought she looked so cute and it made her feel nice, so she kept wearing them. over time they grew on her more and more, so she’s always got in a cute lil hair clip now.

but if she sees gojo she will immediately rip that shit out.

she wouldn’t be caught dead in something gojo gave her LMAO,, he’ll get a big head about it and don’t nobody wanna hear that.

she loves her little accessories though <3

~

yuji <3 : the weirdest shirts imaginable

i don’t even know where to start tbh

like i can’t even tell you where he keeps find them become i literally don’t have a single clue,, but he’s always got one on.

it started as just a fun little thing where he’d where a silly shirt once and a while. but because he keeps find them he’s ALWAYS wearing one and they’re the most hilarious things ever, cause how are you finding these???

like bro will have on the most normal fit ever, but if he unzips his jacket or takes off his hoodie you get hit with them most random t-shirt ever 😭 and every time him, nobara, and megumi go anywhere they take a picture of him in his weird ass shirts.

they even made a little photo album of it for novelty purposes.

~

yuta <3 : a plain white t-shirt

i’m sorry yall… but yuta is a victim of the plain white tee epidemic 😕 i hate to say it.

and he absolutely refuses to let it go too. like bro is the number one consumer of the plain white t-shirt,, LIKE LET IT GO PLEASEEEEE IM BEGGING.

panda and inumaki are SICK and TIRED, like he gets clowned for it on the daily but he literally does not give a single fuck. he’s gonna wear the white t-shirt and you cannot stop him. but because of this lifestyle choice, everyone has banned from making comments about anyone else’s style.

like if inumaki puts on some bullshit he can’t say anything 😭 and it eats him up inside cause he knows if they hear one PEEP from him, he’s getting cooked BADDDD.

and every single time he catches yuji in those weird ass shirts he gets heated 😭😭 cause how they let him get away with it but he cant wear his shirts???

all in all, he’s forever a white tee lover 😕 can’t shit be done about it.

⤑ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ysl production credits : thank you to @ivanari for helping me with my layout !! live laugh irene

⤑ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ tags : @morosis-haze @jogeto @mypimpademia @ivanari @planetlunaa @cosmiles @milesmolasses @chinieh @romiantic @stqrriichiigo

if you wish to be tagged in any future works, here’s my tag form to fill out <33

if you wish to submit a request, here’s my ask box :)

⤑ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ closing notes : take care of yourselves please ! or i WILL hunt you down. also, for those who filled out my tag list and i wasn’t tagging you in any work, it’s just cause i forgot to check it lmao 😭. mb ! imma do better. i love yall bunches, mwah x2 .

- xoxo , yves <33

[makoredeyes]

Keep it coming you say? 👀 I saw that tag! I'm ~quite~ bored, so here's a couple questions/whatever they're considered, lol.

Yes, flattery will get me very far here, indeed! To where? I do not know, but whatever, compliments! You deserve them. I'm rather sure my friends are tired of hearing me go on and on about destiny characters, ':)

How's your writing wip's going so far? I'm waiting very (im)patiently for any updates, I've totally not re-read everything forty-two times.. hope their all going well!

A little self indulgence here, but I like to think Andal Brask was the Hunter Vanguard when Osiris and Saint-14 were in, because.. come on, I'm rather sure the time frame adds up. I like to believe before, because their dynamic just seems really fun to me. Lots of great opportunities. (I partly blame that one fanart sylenth-l made of Andal and Osiris for this, it was really funny). What do you think their dynamic would be like?

What do you think it'd be like if the Iron Lords mysteriously came back alive? 👀 I'm talking, SIVA couldn't actually kill them because their ghosts hid in the light in their bodies, and SIVA only goes after non-organic materials right? Maybe it couldn't work it's way into the light, and as long as their ghost + light are intact, = alive. But *only* after the Warmind managed to get control over SIVA and free their physical bodies from harm? It's a thought I had, influenced by a few fics but I quite like the idea. Just imagine, a ghostless, lightless Osiris receiving word that maybe, they weren't as dead as he thought they were. Or Fel and Timur coming back only to realize what happened to Osiris?? Poor Sagira?? Learning lady Efrideet's alive? 👀 (Is that her name?)

Or perhaps, In this one fic, it's Timur and his special, take over your will little stunt he has, was keeping SIVA at bay, I think that's pretty neat too! So many possibilities! (If you were the one that wrote these, I hope you see this as a compliment cause I am not about to go dig through Ao3 to find them xD)

Either way, it'd be like a modern!au of the iron lords, for them at least, hah (I can just imagine Gheleon having a mental breakdown that their memorial involved fighting one another)

I can't really think of anything, but rest assured I will *probably* be back once I'm dome tormenting my poor boy Tevis

Ahaha yeesss YESSSS I feed me I'm such an attention whore lmao RIP XD. (fr tho bless you ;_; )

I am writing! There are longer gaps between posts rn because I have lots going on in my life, but also, because I am working on many fics at once. I counted the other day I have 26 WIPs but six I am actively working on in concert - three for Housefire that are all directly intermingled plot and timing-wise to the point where I'm not even entirely sure what order I'll be posting them in yet, another chapter for Things Found (I am trying to stay 2 chapters ahead with that to make sure I have a cohesive story for it), and two XXX stand-alone one-shots! I should fish out another teaser for everyone soon. I think it'll be one of the one-shots that makes it out next tbh they're the furthest along. But the naughty stuff is also the slowest to get written bc I yanno...can't write that stuff at work, etc. haha. But I've felt a new wind of motivation lately for writing and am picking away at these projects pretty regularly. <3

I'm going to admit I am not very well-read on the hunter squad in general, BUT iirc I believe Andal was Vanguard during the City Age. He was definitely around as I recall his presence in the comics. The problem with that time is that Osiris was largely absent. This was when the Cult of Osiris was gaining traction, and Osiris' obsession with the Darkness and the Vex was really heating up. He was neglecting his duties to the Vanguard (with Ikora often standing in as proxy for him) and he wasn't really paying attention to anyone else. Like. At all. There was a lot of unhappy tension even with Saint at that time. Andal, by all accounts, was a damn good fella though, and while I think just about everyone nettled Osiris, Andal also stuck up for him where he could. Even if Osiris couldn't appreciate that in the moment I'm sure he would come to later. I look at Osiris and see him as he is now, with some hard lessons learned and some hard losses under his belt, realizing a little too late some of the damn good souls he had in his court, Andal included. All of that said, 100% in a lighter, easier setting, a free-spirit like Andal (and/or Cayde...heaven forbid them both together!) would drive a stuffed shirt like Osiris up an absolute freaking wall with pure comical results, hands down.

(a side note, a brain storm, an insane thought that just poisoned my brain - a sweeter moment hidden from time: Andal's guitar and this gift of song Saint has hinted Osiris has....??????! I'm not melting it's just hot in here, right???)

As for Ironsbane and SIVA... I have INDEED put an awful lot of thought into this. Quite a lot. So much. I have my own ideas on ways to circumvent the disaster, O Reader Mine, but you're going to have to wait a while longer for me to write it. :3 (Housefire is, after all, ultimately, a fixit )

*but no SIVA attacks whatever it is programmed to, organic or not: and Rasputin set it on hundreds of Iron Lords and wiped them all out with the sole exception Efrideet and Saladin with the directives “REPLICATE, ELIMINATE, IMMUNIZE” it was not what SIVA was made to do but he deliberately repurposed it into a weapon. (I could go on for years about Rasputin and his darker epochs, but especially his misappropriation of SIVA lol)

** Your mention of Timur and his spooky skills DID remind me of another fic I need to get back to as well OTL TT_TT I still have requests I took in January I have yet to complete. At this rate it's going to take me all year to get them all done and by then I'll be taking more aahaha whuups.

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

The Girl He Left Behind [Part Twenty]

Fandom: American Actor, RPF, Elvis Presley, Elvis Movie 2022

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Original Female Character

Characters: Elvis Presley, Addison Goodwin, Gladys Presley, Vernon Presley, Minnie May ‘Dodger’ Presley, Red West, Sonny West, Gene Smith, Billy Smith, Original Female Characters, Colonel Tom Parker, Billy Smith, Marci Cunningham, Steve Cunningham, Jerry Schilling, Mary Jenkins, Alan Fortas, Marty Lacker, Original Male Characters, Mona Goodwin, Joe Goodwin

Word Count: 2106 // Rating: Mature

Summary: When Elvis returns home to Graceland from the Army he’s followed by the headlines ‘The Girl He Left Behind’ but what the media don’t know is that Priscilla wasn’t the first. No, that title belongs to someone Elvis will never forget.

Tags/ Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Graceland, Poverty, Friends to Lovers, 1950s Elvis, Bad Parenting, Surprise Surprise the Colonel Is a Colossal Prick, Parental Loss, Grief, Fun Fairs, Kissing, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Movie Nights, Arguing, Tension, Denial of Feelings, Age Gap Romance, Underage, Addison is 17 Elvis is 22, Guilt, Betrayal, Extortion, Blackmail, Jealous, Army Elvis, American Draft, US Army, Lying, Time Shift with Elvis moving to Memphis, Flashbacks, Caught

Notes: Okay so I’m ploughing through to the end. I think its gonna be about 25 parts and Im gonna write the rest of the parts together should there be things I need to change. So this is a short one but more is coming soon I promise!

LINK TO ALL PARTS // AO3 LINK // PINTEREST LINK

@girlblogger2002 @sania562 @caitlin1996​ @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley​ @artlesson8892 @18lkpeters​

Addison couldn’t move. As Elvis moved around the room looking for clothes they could both throw on she sat on the edge of the bed staring at the plush carpet under her feet. She felt like crying though she didn’t know why. It had always been the plan to tell them…eventually. They had both become tired of sneaking around and though she knew going public wasn’t going to be easy she had always assumed she could prepare for it. Lay the groundwork. Now it felt as though it was ripped from her. Whilst the Colonel might keep their romance out of the tabloids he would almost certainly tell everyone else. She wondered how Gladys and Vernon would take the news. After all, they had invited her into their home in an effort to help her and it seemed all she had done was cause unwanted drama.

When Elvis threw a dress beside her on the bed he finally noticed she was in a world of her own and moved to stand in front of her, breaking her trance. She looked up at him, her hazel eyes wide and worrisome which made his heart twinge.

‘Hey, hey, come on now it’s alright,’ he said with a reassuring smile. ‘Is it?’ she said looking away though he dropped down on his knees in front of her chasing her gaze until she looked at him. ‘Look the Colonel is just pissed I didn’t tell him,’ he said. ‘And what about everyone else?’ she asked, ‘they’re gonna be pissed too.’ ‘Maybe but they’ll get over it,’ he said, ‘besides this is what we wanted right? Out in the open, no more sneaking around.’ ‘I guess,’ she sighed, ‘I just wish it was on our terms y’know?’ ‘I know but it’s done now,’ Elvis said, ‘we just need to see how the land lays and go from there.’

Addison mulled over his words for a second. She wanted to question him. What if the Colonel said no? What if he wanted Elvis to end it? The problem was she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer. So she didn’t say anything. Instead she nodded which earned a smile from him as he stood up.

‘Right. Uh, I found that dress in the back of my closet…’ Elvis said his gaze flitting to the dress beside her on the bed a slight red tinge on his cheeks as he realised it was the dress she had been wearing the first time they’d slept together in his room. After the first time, Elvis was unsure. He’d give in and though he’d revelled in the benefits he was apprehensive to make another move. His resolve had lasted less than a day. All it had taken for him to give in was seeing her in that dress. His mind had gone blank and he had been a little too enthusiastic which meant that the dress had ended up screwed up in his closet, now sporting a slight tear and a couple of missing buttons.

‘Thanks,’ Addison said obliviously though as Elvis moved to start dressing and she noticed what she was now holding that familiar blush crept onto her own cheeks. Whilst it wasn’t the best outfit she couldn’t complain. After all, she didn’t have much of a choice. It was either a slightly imperfect dress or going downstairs and facing the Colonel in her night gown which didn’t seem appealing in the slightest. In fact, going downstairs at all didn’t seem very appealing but she knew there was no way of getting out of it. So, she allowed Elvis to take her hand and lead her downstairs.

The Colonel was in the living room, his arm resting on the mantlepiece though the fireplace he was looking at was unlit. He turned as he heard them enter the room which made Addison shrink back behind Elvis just a tad as she clocked that his angry face hadn’t soothed any since he had come downstairs. She gripped Elvis’ hand tighter and he squoze back though it didn’t remove that uneasy feeling from her gut.

‘Ah, nice to see the pair of you could tear yourselves away from one another for a moment.’ ‘Look, Colonel,’ Elvis said irately. ‘What my boy? Would you like me to give you more time to lie to me? ‘I didn’t lie to you,’ Elvis protested. ‘You told me there was nothing going on with the pair of you. Twice in fact!’ he laughed moving away from the mantel towards Elvis until the pair were squared up. He looked the younger man up and down before he said with a sneer, ‘how is that not lying?’ ‘I tried,’ Elvis said. The Colonel scoffed and walked away, Elvis following him though not getting too close, ‘when I told you I’d stay away from her-’ ‘You promised you’d stay away from me?’ Addison asked quietly making him turn around. ‘N-n-not promised,’ Elvis stammered. ‘Oh so it’s not just me you’re happy to lie to,’ the Colonel said. ‘I’m not lying dammit!’ he shouted. As the Colonel rolled his eyes he moved back towards Addison placing a hand on her shoulder, ‘I didn’t promise I’d stay away from you Addie. I just…I told him there was nothing going on and at the time,’ he said throwing the Colonel a dirty look, ‘there wasn’t anything going on but I knew if I didn’t pull myself away from you I wouldn’t be able to help myself.’ ‘So that’s why you pulled away? Because he asked you to?’ she asked incredulously. ‘Yeah, didn’t exactly work though did it,’ Elvis said with a wry smile. ‘Oh yes,’ the Colonel said with a roll of his eyes, ‘I’m just the villain in this love story. Not the man who has been trying to keep your image afloat for the past few months whilst you flout everything I ask of you! Keep your show clean, don’t antagonise the press but no-’

Before Elvis could retaliate their attention was pulled towards the living room door where Gladys had just appeared, Vernon following just a step behind her with a yawn.

‘What is all this hollerin’ about!?’ said Gladys as she pulled her robe tighter around herself. ‘Why don’t you ask your son?’ the Colonel sneered. Gladys looked at Elvis expectantly. ‘Mama, why don’t you and daddy go to the kitchen? I’ll be in a minute,’ Elvis said nervously as he tried to steer his mother out of the room though she remained unmoved. ‘Oh, so your own mother didn’t even get to know,’ the Colonel said, ‘that is comforting.’ ‘Boobie what’s he talking about?’ Gladys asked worriedly. ‘He’s blowing it out of proportion,’ Elvis said. ‘What?’ Gladys asked. ‘We wanted to tell you properly.’ ‘Elvis you’re not making any sense,’ she said. ‘Elvis and I are together,’ Addison blurted out making four pairs of eyes land on her. Elvis smiled appreciatively though his gaze went straight back to his mother who seemed to be trying to wrap her head around the news.

‘Well congratulations,’ Vernon said awkwardly as Gladys moved to sit down in her favourite chair, still silent. ‘You’re happy for us, right?’ Elvis said as he knelt down in front of her. Gladys took a moment to compose herself before she smiled weakly and nodded her head. ‘Yes, of course,’ she said, ‘it’s just a shock is all…how long have you two…’ ‘Not long,’ Addison said. Gladys looked at her and though it wasn’t a cold stare there was definitely something to it that made Addison shrink back. This was not the time to be intervening. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ Gladys said looking back at her son. As Addison watched she could see the fear on Gladys’ face. She hadn’t really given it a thought before. Not telling people seemed like the wise thing to do but they hadn’t factored in how Gladys might take being left in the dark. She and Elvis never kept secrets. Maybe that was why her stare had felt so off.

‘Mama we were going to tell you,’ Elvis said placing a hand on her knee. ‘What when you knock her up?’ the Colonel scoffed earning a scowl from Elvis. ‘Shut your damn mouth,’ Elvis said standing up. ‘Elvis,’ Vernon said in a warning tone. ‘No daddy,’ Elvis said before he looked back at the Colonel, ‘look I get you’re pissed at me or whatever. I didn’t listen, sure, but that don’t change the fact that I love her. More than anything. And just because it’s unwise doesn’t mean that we’re gonna be apart.’ ‘And if it costs you your career?’ the Colonel challenged. ‘If you’d rather me be rich than happy that’s on you,’ Elvis said. The pair were staring each other down but Addison wasn’t watching them. She was looking at the uneasy expressions on his parents’ faces as the gravitas of the situation dawned on them. Though he hadn’t said it outright it was enough to be concerning because she was sure he meant it. If it came down to it, if push came to shove, he’d give it up. For her. For them. And that was a terrifying thought. She could tell from the way they watched him, from the way Gladys’ eyes fell on Addison watching her with a look of betrayal.

The Colonel was the first one to break their staring contest. He hobbled towards Elvis his cane in hand until he had almost passed him but instead of walking away he stopped, watching the boy with a betrayed expression, ‘I didn’t ask that you be unhappy. Just honest.’

And with that, he walked away slamming the front door behind him as he left the building.

No one spoke. Elvis didn’t even turn around until Vernon cleared his throat capturing his attention. When he did he moved toward Addison, wrapping his arms around her as he hugged her tightly. She hugged him back though less dependently than he was holding her as if she was a mother comforting a hurt child. When they broke apart he still didn’t relinquish his touch and instead moved to put his hand on the small of her back.

‘Well, I wasn’t expecting my morning to go like that that’s for sure,’ Vernon said. ‘I don’t think any of us saw our morning going this way,’ Elvis grumbled, ‘I mean don’t you think he’s overreacting just a little?’ ‘He’ll come around,’ Vernon said, ‘he’s just been worried that’s all.’ ‘Maybe but would it kill him to be happy for us,’ Elvis said wrapping his arm around Addison who glanced at him with a weak smile. ‘Well, we are, right Lovie?’ Vernon said placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder. She smiled at her husband though it was about as reassuring as Addison’s smile had been. Neither man seemed to notice. ‘I’m glad,’ Elvis said, ‘because we really are happy right Addie?’ ‘Right,’ she nodded though she was still watching Gladys. ‘Well, we can talk about it over breakfast,’ Vernon said with another yawn, ‘all this arguing has got my stomach rumbling.’ ‘Yeah, me too,’ Elvis said as he pulled Addison along so they could follow his daddy towards the kitchen. However he stopped when he noticed his mother hadn’t moved from her spot, breaking away from Addison though he kept hold of her hand.

‘You are coming Satnin?’ Elvis asked. His mother looked up from her chair and smiled. ‘Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute,’ she said. Elvis smiled and nodded heading out towards the kitchen with Addison in tow though the young girl took one last glance behind her at the woman now sitting alone in the living room. Even though she offered Addison a smile there was something behind her eyes that made her nervous. She knew Gladys liked her, that she enjoyed having her around, but at that moment she couldn’t help but feel as though she had overstepped. That whilst she could live in her house and be a friend of the family to have a relationship with Elvis was an error.

And she knew it wasn’t to do with the money. She knew that they could live in a matchbox and Gladys would be happy. No, this was more than that. The way Elvis had gone to bat for her, uttered what he was willing to lose, had just been the start. Both women knew it.

If he was willing to give up everything. If he was willing to lie to his mother.

What would he choose if it came down to it? Or more to the point. Who?

[morgan-the-lonely-brick]

No beta reading we die like men.

Im not even gonna tag it i don't want people to see it yet

It's not finished yet, but. Whatever. Post it anyway fuck it. I'll put it on ao3 as well once it's done fr, i just needed to share the progress. I wrote it in one go so there's bound to be misspellings and just dumbassery allaround

"Sir." Jopson poked his head into the room. Much of his previous colour has returned to his face. He was clean and dressed well. If he weren't still marked by wounds from the journey, he might as well have never gone into the arctic at all. "I brought dinner."

Crozier silently nodded. He was sat against the bed frame, with an arm around Fitzjames' shoulder. He was sleeping, head resting on Crozier's stomach.

Jopson felt like he walked into something he should have never even seen. He put the tray on the nearby table and prepared to leave, when Crozier made a "tsk" sound, which made him turn back around. "yes, sir?" he asked softly, not to wake the commander.

"Stay." Crozier said simply and pointed at a chair by the bed with his free hand. "Help me take care of him."

Fitzjames stirred.

Crozier looked down at him. He traced down Fitzjames' cheek with the back of his fingers. "James."

Another stirr. His eyes fluttered open slightly. He first lay there, motionless, looking into the wall, perhaps finding the energy to look anywhere else, or being too comfortable to do so.

Crozier didn't move an inch either. He began softly talking instead. "Jopson brought food."

Fitzjames made a quiet sound, more of a growl than anything, though it wasn't malicious or angry. Just tired.

"You have to eat, James. You're not quite out yet."

Another growl. He blinked several times, then finally ripped his eyes away from the wall. He slowly raised them up at Crozier. Then he shifted in his arms to look at Jopson. As they locked eyes, Jopson noticed his left one was still bloody. He'd never seen the commander like this. It reminded him of captain Crozier's withdrawl... Though Fitzjames looked even worse.

Crozier helped Fitzjames sit up, but didn't move himself. He propped him up against his chest and when he was certain James wouldn't slip off, he placed both his hands on James's belly.

He froze for just a second, but relaxed right after. He melted into Crozier like chocolate on a summer day.

"Here, sir." Jopson moved his chair even closer to the bed, with a full bowl in hand.

He stirred the thick soup, scooped some up and pressed it to his lips. "It's warm, but not hot. Here." he held it up and waited for Fitzjames to open his mouth.

"Come on, open." Crozier cooed and began tracing circles with his thumbs.

He did. And he swallowed. Then he closed his eyes again.,

As Jopson raised the spoon to Fitzjames' mouth for the second time, he spotted a glistening trail making it's way down his cheek.

He put down the spoon to wipe the tear away.

Crozier watched, amuzed more than anything.

[marmoue]

McGenji AU Week - Day 2: Crossover

like everyone else, i've been rly into detroit: become human recently so i went ahead and did the thing

Twitter Ver.

[khonshuscondemned]

HELP. rewatching ep 3 and. was reminded of this post . and there was a bit of going off that happened in the tags but they felt unfinished so now we’re diving in all over again.

so the part latched onto (this time) happens before khonshu tells marc to take the kid to the ledge- when Marc wakes up after having stabbed Goon #1 & #2 is already down for the count and turns and sees The Kid (Goon #3) and he . he has his little panicked moment (‘…wh-what..? -oh my god- oh, god- steven, what did you do??’) and steven tells him to sod off it wasn’t him (really, marc- you’re covered in someone else’s blood and you immediately think it’s steven who had anything to do with your little blackout??) - and then The Kid/Goon #3 groans, and he groans loud- too loudly to be ignored and it’s Back To The Grind. Marc puts his Khonshu hat back on , he turns around. His hand is clenched around the knife’s handle. his eyes are narrowed and his brows are drawn- he’s readying for the next fight.

And then he sees it’s The Kid. he sees the kid as a kid. not as Goon #3. suddenly the khonshu hat is almost flung free of his head- you can see it in Marc’s eyes, in the way his movements slow, in the way he recalibrates, the way he reevaluates his options bc . he doesn’t wanna hurt a kid. hell, tbh i don’t think marc wants to hurt anyone , anymore, i think he’s tired of the blood. (u really get a sense of Marc’s hesitation via the gifs in the ref’d post , it’s heartbreaking. but gratitude for gif-makers bc over-analysis of character expressions is a fond pastime while we wait for season 2 rip)

(also uh quick aside: khonshu says this line, something like ‘I know you enjoy the work I have for you’. this .. never sat right. maybe before- … maybe. but this marc spector? he doesn’t seem to enjoy this very much at all. not like, the way I think he enjoys existing with layla, or the way one would enjoy a picnic or catching sight of a wishing star or little things like that . but then again, i don’t think marc spector quite knows how to enjoy little things just yet- im not quite sure he understands that not everything comes with a price, and certainly not true joy. that kind of happiness can come free if you know where to look. ok tangent over)

Back to the scene, it’s about 9 mins in- Marc turns, sees it’s the kid. and he drops the fucking knife.

there have been a few in-depth watches of this scene before bc we had been curious as to the way Marc uses weapons (hint: he fucking doesn’t this man uses his fists and that’s it in this particular scene at least). not sure why we glossed over this bit or why it hits hard(er?) now, but. no wonder jake took over, of course jake would leave the kid alive- he does it for more reasons than we can count but for sure we know he keeps the kid alive cos he knows it would kill Marc to have blood of that sort join the stains in their bathroom sink ya know?

It’s just, ironic that Marc still. ends up with that kids death on his hands . that Marc. cant be trusted sometimes, not with hands Jake Lockley is more accustomed to. tsk. anyways - TLDR marc is tired of the bloodshed, jake has to take over and fill in a lot more now than perhaps ever before (and it’s not going unnoticed anymore) bc of it, and now Steven’s gotten mixed up in the mess and it’s. it’s killing me all over again . bc marc does literally everything he can to like. not hurt this kid. and he still ends up with three dead goons anyways. sigh.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

seeing someone else.

BISHOP LOSA. MAYANS MC ┃ USEFUL LINKS

❝ request by @encounterthepast: Hello lovely Aurora, can I request angst prompt number 7 with Bishop please, thank you, 💕

❝ prompt: “Don’t you dare to lie to me again”.

❝ request by @arveeee: Hello my dear, so I was thinking, and there is one sentence to that can't go out of my head. So it is: "let me in" with Bishop (I know I'm boring). Well I believe in you, I love you , and I love your writing. Say hello to Arya.

❝ request by anon: Hi, Aurora. I love your writing sm 🥺 I was wondering if I could request an imagine with my man Bishop? I was thinking of something like the reader and him being in kinda like a friends with benefits situation, but she decides to break it offf because she’s really upset. And maybe Bishop doesn’t understand so she eventually explains to him that she wants more out of their relationship and he reassures her they are more and they always have been? Maybe leads to like soft/romantic smut? Thanks so much!

❝ request by @meteora-fc: hello hello! so, that new trailer huh?😵 would absolutely love if you could write me something for a stressed out bishop with the prompts "Stop ignoring me, it’s driving me crazy!" and "Let me help you make it better." Thank you tons!!💖

❝ words: about 1.4k.

❝ a / n: as always, don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it!

Another tequila shot goes down your throat, ripping it off as you almost smash the small glass on the table. Tossing your head back as you rest your back against the sofa, sitting on the floor, you take a look around you. The gloomy has taken over your house as the night has fallen a couple of hours ago. It's the fourth night you are trying to forget about Bishop and whatever you two had. But you can't dismiss from your mind his caresses —his fingers drawing patterns on your back, his lips touring your neck with delicate kisses as if he was afraid of breaking your skin, his mustache tickling your inner thighs, his raspy voice articulating your name in moans. It's the fourth night miserably failing, remembering the last time you spent together, the way he was holding his back pretending he wasn't sad because you were leaving him.

“Obispo, it's over. Don't make a big deal. We're just friends who occasionally fucks”. You scoffed somewhat annoyed because of him and his interrogation, but how could you tell him you were falling in love with him?

“I ain't making any deal, (Y/N). I just want to know what made you change your mind and keep a wide berth”.

“I'm seeing someone else”.

"Don't you dare to lie to me”. He growled, taking a step closer towards you with the intention of stopping you from picking up and packing the less stuff you had in his house.

“Think what you want”. You replied, rolling your eyes.

The first tear flows in the left corner of your mouth not appreciably at first, but then, some more until finding yourself crying. You miss him so much. You miss watching him sleep peacefully in the small hours, drifting slightly when you caress his cheek using your fingertips. Flexing your knees to your chest, you wrap your arms around trying to contain the loud sobs, hiding your face between them. How have you been so stupid to fall for him like that? The two of you made it clear from the very first moment. Friends with benefits. But after a couple of weeks, you started to notice that he used to push away any other woman that it wasn't you, he didn't spend much time in the clubhouse preferring to do it in your house —cuddling, watching movies, playing poker; kissing every single inch of flesh covering your anatomy.

Reality hit you the moment he murmured something like you're a miracle, thinking you were calmly sleeping between his strong arms and your back stuck to his chest, no distance among your bodies. You knew it was a thing produced by the alcohol running through your veins and it wasn't fair for you to fantasize about the idea he was catching feelings for you. So you just ran away, like a coward.

Some clumsy knocks on the front door of your house bring you back to reality. At first, you try to ignore them. It's not like you're in the mood for visits, knowing that probably it's Leti at the other side of the place, worried because you haven't replied to her text all day. But she insists and insists. And you know how stubborn she can be sometimes. Serving yourself another shot and drinking it in just one gulp, because you're too sober to endure another of her Ted talks about positivism and what he has lost, you stand up on your bare feet. Everything around you spins dizzyingly for a second until you can react, feeling every knock like a hammer hitting your brain.

“I've heard you the fi—”.

Opening the door to receive her, your vocals get frozen as you face Bishop in a deplorable drunk state. Just like you are.

“Let me in”. He barks, not being able to look at your eyes, trying to pass you away to the inside, but you stop him.

“Go home, Obis—”.

“I'm home, shut the fuck up”. He frowns taking a sip from a bottle of whisky you haven't noticed till now. “You think you can kick my fuckin' ass outta your life by saying you're seeing someone else? You think I'm fuckin' stupid, queri— Were you crying…?”

From anger, his tone of voice falls to one lower and lower, as the concern and the worry cover his annoyance completely. Throwing away his drink to somewhere over the grass of your yard, he holds your face onto his palms. His touch causes you to tremble. His warm touch causes you to break into aching sobs, panting as you can't breathe properly. All this time you've been thinking you have missed him, but you didn't have a real idea of how it feels until his fingers have been laid on your wetted skin.

Bishop comes closer to you, touching the tip of your nose with his. You can smell the mixed scent of cigarettes and whisky emanating from his cracked lips, it doesn't bother you, tho. “Don't kiss me, please”.

Until this precise moment, he has loved your begs and pleads to his bones, but now he hates them more than anything he could ever hate in his life. It breaks his heart. He can't deal with your rejection one night more.

“Why…? Why can't I kiss you?” He asks desperately at the edge of his tears. “Please, stop ignoring me, it's driving me crazy. I can't even take care of my own shit without you by my side”.

Your knees feel weak at his words, still believing he only says that because you're just a good lover, the best in the sheets, as he told you once.

“I… I…” You babble nervously, trying to not place your hands on the laps of his leather kutte to finally push him into the needed kiss you've been craving for the last four days. “I love you”.

And why the confession doesn't take him by surprise? Why doesn't he look confused? Why does it seem like he already knew it? Bishop can't help but draw a fleeting grin across his face.

“Do you think I came here, falling into pieces, just because it feels like being in Heaven when I'm deep inside you?” He whispers, clicking his tongue slightly. “I didn't believe you when you told me you were seeing someone else. But the minimal thought I could have about it made me lose the less sanity I have”.

You blink stupefied at his own confession about his feelings. Your fingers tour his abdomen up in slow motion, starting to have some faith in his words.

“Mi amor…” Bishop mumbles in soft giggles shaking his head. “I adore you, mi amor. I don't want anything else than to share my life with you, and only with you”.

He doesn't wait for a signal from you to kiss your lips, he just takes what it's his. And you can't hold back a painful gasp, expelling in it all the sorrow you've been carrying for the last four days being separated from him. Your hands grip his shirt in two fists, pushing him as much closer as the two of you can be, about to melt in the same figure. All this time you have been trying to not love him, to forget him; and you were just delaying the inevitable. You are made for each other, that's a fact. Your lips fit to perfection —your bodies, your hearts.

“Tell me you love me”. You whimper against his mouth, causing him to smile because of your need of making it real by these simple three words.

“Love isn't enough to express what you make me feel”.

Bishop bends down without prior notice to wrap his huge hands on the back of your thighs, urging you to jump onto him and surround his waist with your legs. You haven't forgotten how good his warmth takes over you when he holds you like that, walking inside your house and kicking the door close. Guiding his steps across your place and its hallways, he reaches your dark dorm barely illuminated by a post light outdoors. He lies you down on your bed —a bed that has welcomed you for the last eight months in every kind of state. Drunk, tired, happy.

Now, you're a mix of them. Drunk in tequila, tired of crying, but happy for having him back for the rest of your life.

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[fandom-blackhole]

I'll See You in my Dreams- Soulmate AU

AN: First off, sorry I didn't have this up earlier, I went through so tough writer's block that is kicking my ass and my school year has begun so I had to focus on that for a bit. Second, I wanted to say, the next thing I write is probably going to be the next part for Merman!Din because I hit 100 kudos on the fic over on Ao3. Third, starting probably towards the end of this week, maybe Thursday or Friday, I am going to start character takeovers. I will make a post about who it will be and how long it will be around during the morning and reblog it throughout the day along with any disclaimers/rules. I am thinking this is something I can do during the weekends when I don't have classes and Im not writing. Love you all and I hope you enjoy this fic!

Masterlist

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x Reader

Words: 1K (sorry its short....)

Summary: What if you, someone from Earth, miraculously were soulmates to someone in a galaxy far, far away?

Warnings: descriptions of pains, sadness, yearning, soft love confessions and promises, unedited bc I am tired and just wanted to post this

The dreams, oh, the dreams….

They come and they never stop, always leaving wondering and wanting, aching.

You do not understand them, what they meant, if anything other than a manifestation of desires, but when he appears you feel like you are in another world, another galaxy all your own, made for you and him alone. He tells you you are his one, his only, and your heart soars with every small touch and smile. His whisper of your name, and promises sworn in a language so foreign, yet familiar after years of their whispered softness, cause you to feel like you're floating, like you are where you are meant to be, in this loving man's arms.

Only...each day as you wake, you come crashing down into the same disappointing reality, reminding yourself that he is not there, and he is only a cruel trick your mind plays upon you heart and soul each night, laughing as you wake to the same cold loneliness of day, ripped from the warmth of his arms that hold you each night. It had been like this since you could remember, even as you were a child he would appear in your dreams and ask if you wanted to play with him. He told you stories that his family, his culture taught him, the things that were even at that age obviously very important to him.nYou parents would praise you for your creativity when you repeated the stories to them. They never understood.

Your parents didn't understand why you never let go of this imaginary figure in your dreams. They couldn't comprehend why even after you grew away from the imaginary friend stage you still talked about the boy that simply did not exist to them.

The older you got, the more you realized that you wanted no one else but him. No one else could make you smile or laugh the way he could. No one else made you feel safe the way he did. No one could come close to making you feel cherished or content the way he did. No one could touch just how loved you felt each night when he gave you that shining smile, followed by an endearment in his sacred language- he had attempted to teach you a few basics at one point, but he only kept chuckling and teasing you softly as you tripped over the words he said so effortlessly.

It wasn’t until you were graduating high school and looking into colleges when it dawned on you how much you loved the man in your dreams. How you would never be happy with another, not knowing he was there, even if he was not real. You would never find anyone better than the boy you had watched grow into a man, than the person who listened to you talk endlessly about your life, the one you told all your secrets to never holding any information back because you knew he would never judge you. But this, this realization you kept to yourself, not wanting to share and find heartbreak from the one person you knew you would never be able to recover from.

So you pulled back slowly, never fully distancing yourself how could you, but you tried to never come too close, fearing the pain that would follow if you did. And you hated every second of it.

As you progressed through college, you both lamented your stresses to the other seeking comfort in just venting or just listening to the other’s voice. You were busy with school, stressing over finals and papers, while he was worried about his people, his covert who he was now lead and teach, he worried about the future generations as his people’s numbers kept diminishing.

Life and stresses seemed to take over and pass in rhythms. Soon you both found yourselves in a comfortable dance, but one that had each side aching for more but unable to ask for it.

By the time you graduated from school, on track already to work your dream job, you found yourself suddenly feeling hollow. A feeling that started showing up in dreams, a feeling that was only suppressed when you brushed against his hand, or he reached out and hugged you before you both woke. But it did not take long for the feeling to spread into your waking hours. Life became numb at best, painful at most. The feeling only getting worse as you were with him. Some nights it felt like your entire body was screaming for the man you could not have.

But it changed one night suddenly. You had not even got to say hello or hi to him before he pulled you into his embrace, whispering words of defeat, whispering how he could no longer hold back, being apart from you for so long hurt him. He said that his very soul was hurting and he just needed to hold you for the night. And you caved. You caved and held him as tightly as he held you, hot tears slipping down your cheeks as you hiccupped the words you never wanted to tell him. You stuttered through devotions and dozens and dozens of ‘i love yous’, and you were overjoyed, bursting at the seams when he returned each with his own love confession, with his own devotions for you. And you only cried harder, finding yourself slowly being soothed by his rumbling voice in his chest and his calm words.

You both stayed like that. The night ticking by but moving slower than normal, or it could just be the quiet nothing of the world as you held tight to each other. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, hopes to freeze in time and never wake again if it meant staying here wrapped in the other’s soft love and body.

But….like each night come to pass, you found yourself being lulled and pulled away from the man you loved so forcefully. He could feel it too, you knew he could by the way his arms tightened, and as his final words were whispered into your ear before you were ripped apart.

“Mesh’la, my fierce love, I swear on the name of my ancestors, that I, Paz Viszla, will find away to reach you in daylight. I will come for you, cyare, I promise with all my being I will come to you.”

700 Fic Taglist: @shellyc9 @ben-is-a-hoe @mrs-ghuleh @moodsare @mysticalgalaxysalad @eri16 @elinedjarin @reverielibrary @bunny-fair @justnat15 @ollovaemisc @indycaelumskywalker @just-someone11 @peach-child @remmyswritings @gotham-city-uber-driver @mindidjarin @kirinpl @katie-sheep-111 @lovecatsnotpeople @3braincells @bunny-fair @phoenixhalliwell @skellylady @kikiinden @lothiriel9 @misguidedandbeguiled

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[danniburgh]

Rushingly Bittersweet (Javier Peña x f!reader) part 21

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc//f!reader with name.

Summary: After the fall of Escobar everything starts happening way too fast for Javier; his raise, his new office, his new team, the Cali cartel’s operation, the sudden arrival of a new agent that was transferred to his team for no apparent reason, the way he was falling in love with her almost unintentionally.

And he couldn’t seem to stop any of that.

Word count: +4.9k

Chapter warnings: uhm, this chapter is Javier’s perspective ehehe, so, beware fo feelings

A/N: This chapter is set in season three, episode ten. // again, i am really fucking sorry, but we are ALMOST DONE OMG, also i wanna say thanks to my official cheerleaders @queenofthefaceless and @maharani-radha-writes​ that helped me a lot and @alliterative-albatross​ that made me feel sure of some of the ideas i had for this chapter, i love you lots, guys. While proof reading this chapter for the first time i understood why it was the hardest to write, it was because i had just to strip myself naked and understand more of Javier Peña as i had built him... i just... im not quite pleased with the second half of this, but i know its needed.

ao3 // fic index // Masterlist // fic playlist

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gif: @javier-pena (thank you so much for making this when i needed it the most, ily)

The air weighed on his chest; he felt his lungs struggling to find air; as he drove home, he felt his heart pounding hard and fast, as if it wanted to rip out of his chest and run and hide and die.

As if his heart wanted the same he did.

Javier couldn’t sleep that night. He didn’t even try to close his eyes after climbing into bed.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you.

Jesus Christ.

His mind was reeling, he couldn’t stop replaying every single thing you told him in his mind.

“My name is not Florencia Martín”

“A precarious situation”

“Another Los Pepes scenario”

“You do care, you care a lot”

He wanted to crawl into a deep hole and bury himself to stop his body from feeling.

Javier cringed deeply when he remembered he had told you he had fallen in love with you without even thinking about it.

That certainly wasn’t the way you were supposed to find out.

He guessed, while tossing around on his bed, on the same sheets that still smelled like you, that he had it coming. He probably deserved it. But that didn’t make him feel any better, it stung.

It burned.

Javier had stripped himself naked for you, more than just his body, he had let you see him; he had let you touch him; he had let you read him; he had let you know him.

He had let himself feel and… he had let himself think he deserved something good.

He felt like such an idiot, stupid and embarrassed because there you had been… Standing in front of him, in a place he thought it would become something close to his fortress, breaking him. And he let you.

God. He had known you for less than six months, and yet he let you have power over him. All that power to make him whatever you wanted. He had handed you a sledgehammer and his heart and soul on a porcelain platter for you to shatter.

And he just took it.

Javier huffed at his own thoughts while his eyes were glued to the ceiling.

He was an idiot, wasn’t he? Having let himself feel all those things he had been so beware of for a woman he never really knew.

What else was fake about you?

He felt that sting, known and oh so foreign clench in his throat and he fought it. He fought it hard. Why was he feeling like that?

“A precarious situation”

“You do care, you care a lot”

He sat up and brought his knees to his chest, clenching his jaw so tight his face started trembling.

He had to unclench it so he could open his mouth and gasp for air because his lungs were tightening in his chest and he knew he just had to let go. He shook his head to nothing and fought it again. He would not break. He couldn’t.

But then he remembered he was all alone. Just him and his mind and... he stopped fighting for the first time in years and allowed his feelings to pour down from his eyes.

Javier clenched his jaw again as he felt the thick, years old tears pouring and pouring, clouding his sight, flooding his face.

“Fuck,” he muttered to nothing, resting his face on his hand and his arm on his knee, his chest struggling with the silent sobs he was drowning in.

Javier cried for around an hour.

He allowed himself to cry, to cry for you, because if he had allowed himself to fall in love with you and he had allowed you to wield power over him, he deserved a chance to fall apart as well.

He had earned it.

His tears of grief and pain became tears of anger and pain.

He was so angry; at himself, because, thinking again about everything you had told him, you had said something right; he had dragged you into having whatever the hell you two had. He had kissed you and practically turned your wrist into starting something with him only, and just only because he felt lonely. Because he felt like maybe, for the first time in decades, he could have something good. Because he felt like maybe it was time for him to love and be loved again when, in reality, he didn’t deserve to be loved by anyone.

He had let himself believe you could be something else, less complicated. But how wrong he was… Him? Loved? As if. Him? In Colombia? Laughable.

That country… It became more than clear how much he had lost by going down there.

He huffed again in between tears at how it took a massive hit to the heart for him to realize how much he had lost in the years he had been there.

He was so angry; at the system. The fucking system that forced you and him into taking assignments you didn’t deserve to take. There wasn’t another moment he hated more right then, than the moment he had said yes to returning to Colombia. His dad was right, he didn’t like what he found. And it truly changed him before he could change it. How he wanted to have listened to him, how he wanted to not be the stubborn ass he was and just… said no.

And you? You had taken an assignment that promised unreachable things, one that forced you into turning into a liar, one that didn’t let you be yourself.

Fuck, was he really trying to find justifications for what you did even though you had broken him in pieces?

He was so angry; at you. For lying to him and from dropping the facade, for taking off the mask that he had rushed to love, for thinking he deserved the truth instead of you leaving once everything was over. He thought it would have hurt less if you had just… disappeared.

He wouldn’t be crying at three in the morning on his bed if you had just vanished into thin air.

Javier remembered seeing the hope in your eyes when you were telling him the truth, who you really were, he saw it and he wanted to tell you he forgave you. But neither of you deserved something that good.

He was sure it all was some kind of karma. A penance for all his sins, a way too high price he had to pay for all the shit he had done.

He realized then, while sitting on his bed in the middle of the night, the same one he had shared with you for nights that felt burned into his memory, that you and him weren’t so different.

That you two had more in common than he had first thought. That you, as he had said to you before, when you were still wrapped around his arms on that same bed, were a person who was willing to do anything for a greater cause. That you as well were capable of doing anything if you thought it did good, that you also were capable of sacrifice, of losing everything as long as you were doing what you thought was the right thing.

And you had told him, as you cried your eyes out in front of him, facing him and facing and taking all the repercussions of your actions, that you really thought it was the right thing to do.

The realization was truly bittersweet. He didn’t like that even when you had broken his heart and stepped on the pieces as you walked out, he still understood why you did it.

After that despaired, miserable night, he decided he was done bringing you to the front of his mind, so he shoved all the memories of you and tried to repress them in the back of his head along with countless others he didn’t rather to address.

The next day he stepped into the office with less than half an hour of sleep he had seemed to catch while condemning himself in the solitude of his room and avoided looking at your still cluttered desk. Full of you.

He ignored Stoddard when he asked him where you were as he stepped out of the office to head to Cali an hour later and while the elevator brought him down to the lobby he tried to drown the way the mention of your fake name made him feel.

That morning you walked directly to the CIA office, every step you gave into the embassy hurt in your body, mind and soul as if each one had a dagger embedded deeply and an invisible hand was twisting each dagger deeper. You felt the weight of the world on your shoulders. You entered, unannounced, into Stechner’s office, not even trying to hide the enormous amount of pain you were going through. You were tired of hiding things.

“Ah, my favorite DEA agent,” Stechner said when he saw you walk in “well, not anymore, I guess.” he smirked and you felt his gaze linger on your body, shamelessly.

“Let’s just get this over with.” you muttered, crossing your arms on your chest.

“Oh, this is more than over, alright?” the man leaned back on his chair and reached a manila folder that rested on top of others on his desk and raised it so you could see it “resignation, what a word,” he said, putting the folder back on the desk, opening the folder and taking the sole sheet of paper on his hand “really? after you failed almost epically?” Stechner smiled humorlessly and took your resignation letter in both hands and… ripped it in half.

You drowned a gasp.

“You have a flight to Washington today at noon.” he let out softly, feigning a comprehensive tone.

“Of course I do.” you mumbled, dropping your arms to the sides, feeling your eyes flood with tears as you saw him tossing the parts of your resignation letter in the trash can.

You blinked the tears away and quietly took a deep breath, halfway achieving a fake sense of stability you had fed yourself since the night before.

What were you thinking, after everything you did they would have let you get off easy? Of course not you silly girl.

“Oh, honey, you need a hug?” Stechner asked with a teasing gaze and a fake tone of worry “I bet breaking up with Peña really did something on you, you look like a mess”

You tightened your jaw and rolled your hands into fists, Stechner noticed, and his mocking face dropped.

“Anything else?” you asked him, voice hardened, with your eyes staring right into his, admonishing him, warning him. He knew what you were capable of, you knew he did.

He shook his head twice, and you lifted your chin up.

“I really wish you the best, sweetie.” he mumbled, dropping his gaze to his desk and trying to ignore the way your face turned into a scowl at the endearment.

“No, you don’t, you fucker,” you all but growled wanting nothing more than to erase that seemingly permanent smirk off his face that grew after he raised his head to look at you “you’re happy that I’m getting out of here like this,” you chuckled bitterly “you wanted this to happen, I hope you’re satisfied.” you let out all the venom you had been keeping inside you for that man in the last sentence you spat to him.

“You’re right, but I won’t say it,” he tutted and shook his head slowly “you really cost us a lot, sweetheart,” he mumbled and you were sure you were about to spit foam from the rage inside you “I hope you know that.”

You sighed and smiled bitterly at the man. Ever so fucking disgusting. For the first time in your life, you wanted something bad to happen to someone. And you didn’t regret it.

“I won’t ever forget it.” you spat at him in a soft voice that made him glare at you with a serious face.

You turned around and walked out of his office, leaving the door open, feeling his stare on your back.

Feeling, then more than ever, the insides of your mind finishing crashing down. Finally broken. Fully broken.

You walked towards the elevator and pushed the lobby button, hoping to dissolve in the way, hoping the elevator floor would just break and the void swallowed you and your body crashed against the concrete floor of the second basement.

But instead, the doors opened on the DEA floor and Stoddard stepped inside, shooting you a concerned smile as the doors closed.

“Hi, Florencia,” he looked at you and you tried to give him a smile, knowing you failed “you okay?” he asked, you blinked a few times before looking at him. He pushed his glasses up.

“Yeah!” you let out in a squeal “just peachy.” you drifted your eyes away and sighed again.

“I… thought you were in Cali.” Stoddard let out after a few seconds, you turned to see him with your brow furrowed.

“Cali?”

“Well… yeah,” he shrugged “the boss and the guys went back to Cali this morning.”

You let out a sigh, of both relief and worry.

“Oh,” you said under your breath “no, I…” you shook your head and tried to smile at him again and failed, this time he noticed “I needed to take care of something else.”

“I see,” he mumbled, the elevator doors opened and you stepped out “you sure you’re okay?” he asked, looking at you, you nodded several times.

“Yeah, Stod,” you assured him, trying to make him believe it, not quite sure if you believed yourself “I’m fine.”

Stoddard nodded at you as the elevator doors closed and you waved him once goodbye. Knowing it would be the last time. You walked out of the embassy in complete and utter shame, and some part inside you screamed that you deserved it.

Javier rescued another witness that day, because he still wanted to do something right even though he didn’t feel right himself.

But then, after sending Guillermo Pallomari to Miami, he had to return to his office. That place he had thought was his fortress, and then it was turned into… a dungeon.

He didn’t ignore your cluttered desk this time; he was alone in the office, there was no one that could say anything of him if he just… looked around.

A steel cup filled with different colored pens and only red markers, a pile of unsigned DEA reports, in one of the drawers a block of sticky notes running low, the same ones you made notes on and stuck on files when you reviewed them and that Javier hated to see because they were just so fucking bright, your red coffee cup you used when you didn’t have time to grab some at his house because he just kept kissing you until you both were late, which didn't happen at your place because Javier always woke up before you and started the coffee machine, a gun holster you hated to use because it just never clutched the way you wanted to your jeans and a small, brown journal he had never seen before and that he took because there wasn’t anyone that could say anything of him if he just… looked around.

He hesitated for a moment to open the journal, unsure of himself or of what he would find. The first page had your initials, your real initials written on the far left corner and just a list of names he didn’t recognize, next a few scribbles and a phone number. Javier skimmed through the pages and around the middle he found his name. Written in your pretty handwriting, with a few numbers underneath that looked dangerously close to file codes.

He snapped the journal closed and left it where he found it. He shouldn’t have looked.

In his office he found all the documents you had risked so much to gather and all the intel you just handed to him, pretty much as he had handed you his heart.

Javier let out a sigh and grabbed the folders, sitting behind the desk and opening the first one.

He re-read every single piece of information until his eyes stung from the exhaustion, or the cigarette smoke, or maybe more unshed tears he was once again fighting so hard to keep inside him.

Tears of sadness, it was a given. But also anger, and frustration and pain, and, as a bucket of freezing cold water, years of regrets fell on him.

Javier had tried, had tried hard to bury all that shit in some far, deep corner of his mind, as he had tried to bury you and all his memories of the last four? five? months. He really did. But at that moment, sheltered inside an office that didn’t feel like his anymore, past midnight, alone and so damn vulnerable, it all rose to the surface and he found himself drowning inside a sea of his own mistakes and past sins.

It was unbearable to stay there. So he grabbed the files that felt like burning in his hands and took off.

And so, Javier went back to an empty apartment that even though had been his for a long time, felt emptier than it had ever felt without you and reminded him only of you.

Why had he allowed his house to become a fucking shrine to the time you had spent there?

Everytime he looked at everything, from the fucking lamp at the corner of the end table to the damn waterbottle you left the last morning you were there on his kitchen counter, an image of you invaded his mind. Like a suffocating wildfire, spreading with the simplest blow of the wind. Covering him, trapping him, burning him and turning him into ashes.

That night he drank almost all the alcohol he had left in his house and even then, with his body full of booze, his intoxicated mind all the time returned to you. To your face, to your eyes and that color that was so common yet somehow looked so unique, to your voice and how you called his name either on a whisper or on a scold, to your smile and how apparently you had one only for him, to your hands and how you used them one night to touch him and the next morning to grip a gun, to how you drove him crazy from the very beginning. Fuck, he loved you. And he hated you all the same.

You gave him your resignation letter, you had left a job you claimed you loved so much that you had taken on something that did you so much wrong. You quit because of what they made you do, and probably, just probably, he had to do the same. Because of what they did to him.

Was it worth it? Everything he did… Was it worth something? Anything?

He thought again of everything he had done in the past decade and felt sick at what his brain was showing him. It really wasn’t.

The idea of doing something good, doing something that could give him a little peace invaded his mind and he spent half the night thinking of something he could do to finally, finally feel like he was helping.

The next morning he found himself sitting in the conference room with Crosby hovering around him. He huffed at himself, sitting there as if there was nothing wrong going around, with the ambassador looking at him with his ever so present judgemental smirk, as if he wasn't just pieces of a man that put himself together with the weakest glue when he got dressed that morning with less than two hours of sleep after being trapped inside his house that smelled like you with nothing but alcohol and time to think. His pop was right, they did something to him in that country. He just didn’t know what.

“Y’know how many times I’ve gotten a call from the Department of Justice and State the same morning?” Crosby rhetored, Javier looked at him, already tired of the lecture he was about to get “count ‘em on one finger, guess we have you to thank for that.”

Javier dropped his eyes to the oak table in front of him and absentmindedly tried to draw a pattern with the tip of his finger while half listening to Crosby telling him about his meeting with the Colombian president to demand that the gentlemen of Cali stayed in jail. He looked back at his boss and after half a second of pondering he told him he had a draft indictment of the president’s ties with the cartel, omitting the part of the story where he had drafted it half drunk the night before. And of course Crosby laughed at it.

Javier huffed again at himself when Crosby suggested he kept the draft to himself and he felt his blood starting to boil. He sighed and fought the urge to stand up and leave. What was he thinking? That a man like Crosby would back up a man like him? Just like that? What a naïve thought.

“The DOJ’s not gonna topple a government, Agent Peña,” the ambassador told him, obviating the statement, Javier felt his chest turn “you can’t tell me you’re surprised by that.”

“Some part of me was holding out hope, I guess.” he muttered to Crosby, who walked around the table and stood next to him, Javier didn’t even bother to hide his face from him, god how tired he was of hiding.

“Well, you should tell that part to grow the fuck up,” Crosby spat and Javier drowned a bitter chuckle “no, I mean it, Agent Peña, you should be happy,” the ambassador said and Javier frowned at the man “you played the system like a goddamn fiddle, you won.”

Javier opened his mouth to rebut the statement but Crosby just walked behind his chair and left the room, leaving him with the word in his mouth.

He felt his stomach toss in disgust, at his boss, at his job, at himself. Fuck that.

“Yes, sir.” he mumbled under his breath.

Did he really win something? The job that helped him escape from everything, the one at some point of his life felt like a dream, had become a nightmare. The woman he grew to love, after years and years of not feeling that, barely got out of there alive and the name he had whispered in extasis wasn’t even hers. Everything he had once believed in was melting away like wax on a candle and being washed away by a sea of regret, desolation and anger.

Did he really win something when he had lost everything? He had even lost himself in the process of what he and everyone around him had called a once in a lifetime opportunity to end a War that was so familiar to him it almost sat at the table on Thanksgiving with him and his dad.

And when he got out of the conference room, with the weight of the world on his shoulders, the idea of following your steps and quit became a lot more attractive to him.

So he went back to his empty home filled with your memories, resigned that he wouldn’t sleep much that night either, and stood in the middle of the living room, not knowing why he felt like a visitor in his own house, chain smoking, thinking about everything just because he wanted to stop thinking about you.

Javier walked to his window and dwindled himself to watch the cars down the street pass, the city was so unaware of everything. The country was so unaware of how it was being torn apart by the same people that were elected to take care of it. And he was so fucking angry, at everything and everyone, at himself. And so tired. Exhausted.

The phone rang behind him and he didn’t even flinch at the sound, even when practically no one called his house phone. He just let the machine get it.

“Hi, Javi, uhm…” he stiffened in place when he heard your voice and turned his head to eye the cradle “I know you probably don’t wanna listen to me right now but…” you sounded small, your voice sounded thin, Javier turned around and walked towards the phone “uhm, I wanted to apologize again and…” he felt like he couldn’t think, his mind was filled with your voice as if it were a fog that clouded his vision, he wanted to pick the phone up, he wanted to ask you where you were and tell you to come home to him, but his brain wasn’t letting him “I–I’m in Washington and I tho–thought…” his eyes closed on themselves when he heard you sigh and choke down a sob “forget it, uhm, I just… fuck…”

Javier looked at the phone, the sound of static still there, he pondered if he should just swallow his anger and his newfound pride and just pick up.

“I think someone will contact you about this and I just wanted to let you know I–I didn’t tell them anything about... us…” he heard you chuckle softly and he just stood there, rolling his hands into fists, waiting for you to say something else, “I’m sorry, Javi, uhm… I really think I did the right thing by telling you, I’m just sorry it had to be like this…” you sniffed on the phone and Javier sighed, “I guess I also wanted, uhm, to hear your voice… shit.” he closed his eyes and grabbed the phone.

“Hello?” he said and gripped the receiver when the sound of the cut line replied to him.

Javier threw the receiver on the floor and sat on the couch, cursing at himself for his weakness and his hesitation altogether.

He rested his head on his hands while thinking on the few things you had said, if you were in Washington talking to the directives that meant they didn’t let you resign, that meant they were firing you. And you called him to let him know his involvement was minimal, because still after everything you were trying to divert the backlash from him.

God how he was tired.

That’s when he decided, he was going to do it. Not only for what you had made him feel, but because he just needed to leave back all the baggage he had been carrying with him for almost a decade. He needed to let go. He knew it, he needed to free himself of something that turned him entirely into a different person that wasn't even close to what he had been before, because no one else would do it for him.

And he had nothing else to lose. Absolutely nothing.

Once that thought occupied his mind, he finally could lay down on the couch and sleep.

The next morning Javier just re-dressed and called his journalist contact, he had decided, in his pre-sleep haze, that he was just gonna tell the truth. To everyone.

Just as you did with him, he was going to use all the information you had given to him to redeem yourself of your own baggage to get rid of some of his.

Even when he didn’t want to think of you, you were still helping him.

And the truth went out as he told it, and he let himself out of the whole situation by following your steps.

Until the ambassador called him into his office later that day and that time… Javier felt like he could tell the man absolutely anything.

He had nothing else to lose.

When he walked into the office Crosby was watching the news about his little interview. Javier walked and sat in across from him, feeling something that looked like freedom. But his mind was still reeling with guilt and loss.

“You didn’t really call the country that we’re guests in a narco democracy.” Crosby asked without asking, Javier looked at the man and shook his head once.

“Are you sayin’ that it isn’t?” he replied, looking at the ambassador tightening his jaw.

“The state department’s livid.”

Javier nodded a few times.

“Good, they’re responsible,” he let out and shrugged slightly “we all are.”

“Samper is not going anywhere.” Crosby let him know, quite exasperated. Javier dropped his eyes to the man’s desk.

“Well, at least people know the truth.” he said, including himself in the sentence. No more lies.

Javier saw Crosby shake his head and study the four walls that surrounded them, and he caught himself wanting to read him like you would be able to.

“I want you gone, Peña,” the ambassador told him, Javier guessed so “so do the colombians.”

“I understand, sir.” Javier replied and Crosby said nothing else. He looked at the ambassador for a few seconds and saw also a shell of a man. He guesses that it wasn’t so much the job that took a person’s humanity, but the context in which they do it.

He stood up and walked towards the door.

“You know…” Crosby called, Javier turned around “any aspirations you had for your career just got dragged behind the barn and shot.”

Javier licked his lower lip and allowed himself to look intently at the ambassador, the man looked at him with something he thought was pity.

“I resigned from the DEA this morning.”

Crosby stood up straighter when he heard it, Javier said it almost solemnly, and saying it out loud not only made it more real, but it really made him feel light as a feather for the first time since he was a teenager when he walked out of the ambassador’s office for the last time in his life.

←previous // next→

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Javi's babies: @pulplorrd​

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[lovelyabyss]

comfort dashboard game uwu owo oo wow (tagged by @exmoth) comfort movie(s):

bedknobs and broomsticks maybe? i mean, i love it to bits but haven't really seen it in years bc who tf owns vhs anymore. there's something great about mixed media movies with the live-action and animation, and the practical effects esp the finale. *chefs kiss*

v for vendetta - probs should revive the watching on the 5th tradition i had prior to the end times but it's not really what id call a comfort film tbh? just honorable mention i guess

comfort food:

egg rice fersho- sunny-side up mixed with shoyu and rice, good shit.

supreme pizza- the lazy fuck's choice of all your major food groups

some chicken tendies are good now and then

comfort show(s):

star trek tng, ds9, voyager gets a special mention but not really. ds9 is by far my fave star trek bc of all the complexity of it, and it's somewhat less cheesy than tng? not real sure how to describe, havent watched any in ages. enterprise is nice but ive only just finished the whole thing

leverage is gr8 too bc thw whole robinhood thing but i havent watched recently

comfort clothing:

wide neck shirts made of thin airy cloth- which is why i love and miss my old wornout tshirts now that i cant even handle anything above 80 f, fuck im old and tired

hoodies but only when the temps 76 or below and i know im gon be there longer than an hour or two

i miss my old gi pants bc they were like airy capris rip

comfort songs:

kataomoi - aimer -always help ground me and restore me from motion sickness and bad feels. steady beats and soft vocals are the best rad. p sure this is my only remaining constant bc otherwise i just go thru new shit like every couple weeks until the good chemical hormones wear out on em

comfort games:

runescape (rs3 and osrs) - can't go wrong with a classic. first real online game i played and i always come back to it, dont think i can go back any further really

pokemon sapphire and emerald, also pearl - intro'd to sapphire around the same time as rs, wayyy back in the day, love pokemon to this day. pearl was a lot later on but damn, good games. sapphire was the gateway, emerald was a rejuvenation of my love for the franchise- moving animations when they came out in battle, trading, shinies, the battle frontier, fuck yeah. miss those days gaming.

idk who to tag no one else i know besides the frend who tagged me is really a mutual and active lmao

[babyboywilson]

Chapter Sixteen (Tinsel and Tourists)

Word Count: 1,234 (light angst this chapter, sorry y’all)

Dean’s POV

Link to ao3 / Link to masterpost

Bonus: Destiel December Day 8 Blizzard ficlet (posted today for anyone interested in reading cuddles and first kisses)

By the time they’d made it back to the bench, Dean was exhausted. Who knew skating could be so tiring? When Cas handed him the warm thermos, Dean eagerly took a sip, letting the warm chocolate taste heat him from the inside out.

Cas settled down next to him on the bench, and Dean automatically found himself leaning into Cas’ space, as if he couldn’t stop himself from pressing their bodies together. “Thank you,” Dean said, nudging Cas with his shoulder.

“What for?” Cas asked as he slipped the thermos from Dean’s hand and took a sip of the drink before handing it back to Dean.

“For teaching me to skate. For the date. I uh-” Dean broke off, shaking his head. “I can’t even remember the last time I actually went on a date.”

“Why’s that?” Cas asked, pressing his leg against Dean’s.

And Dean wanted to say it was because they were always on the move. He wanted to say that he was just a casual hook-up kinda guy. He wanted to say that dates just weren’t his thing because he wasn’t looking for anything serious. But instead, he told Cas the truth. “Because I haven’t found anybody that I actually wanted to date. Not seriously, at least.”

The words hung in the air, the implication they held hovering between them.

This time was different. Cas was different. In all his years hunting, Dean had never let himself fall for anyone, especially when he knew he couldn’t stay. And yet, Cas had come crashing into his life- quite literally- and Dean had never wanted someone more in his life.

“Dean, there’s um- there’s something you should know. I mean, something about my past that I should tell you,” Cas said, breaking Dean from his thoughts.

“Should I be worried?” Dean asked, and even though his brain told him not to, he reached out to Cas, grabbing his hand and linking their fingers together.

“No. It’s uh- it’s not like that. It’s um-” Cas started to say.

And of course, as if fate didn’t hate Dean enough, his phone started to ring. Cursing every single entity that existed Dean pulled his hand away from Cas’ to see Sam’s name flashing across his screen. He quickly silenced the phone, moving to put it back into his pocket.

“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Cas asked wearily.

Dean shook his head. “Nah, if it was important-” Dean started to say, and sure enough, Sam instantly called again. “Just like that. I’m sorry,” Dean said.

“It’s okay, go ahead,” Cas said, even though Dean caught the look in Cas’ eyes, and it made his stomach clench. God. Why did the job always have to get in the way?

“Hey, kinda busy here, Sam,” Dean said as he answered the call.

“It’s going to have to wait, Dean. Whatever this is, it just struck again. PD found Ollie’s body half a mile from where they found Callie’s. Same markings and also drained of blood. I think I’ve got a lead that Bobby just sent over,” Sam said through the phone.

Dean clenched his hand into a fist, sucking in a deep breath. Great. Just great. He was going to have to ditch Cas. Again. Seriously, whatever this creature was, Dean was going to rip its throat out. “Alright, yeah, I’ll meet you at the scene in five.”

Hanging up, Dean closed his eyes for a second, bracing himself before he finally looked over at Cas. But he couldn’t read Cas’ expression, as if Cas had put up a wall and hid behind it.

“Cas, I’m so sorry.”

“Ollie’s dead, isn’t he?” Cas asked instead.

Awesome. Just fantastic. Now he had to bail on Cas and tell him someone else was dead. Nodding slowly, Dean took another deep breath before answering. “Yes, he is. I’m sorry, Cas. We’re going to figure this out though. We’ll stop whatever’s happening. Just-” Dean broke himself off. Shit. How did he say this without exposing Cas to what he really did? “Can you just- please stay safe.”

Cas finally looked up at Dean, tilting his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that we don’t know enough about whatever is causing these killings. And there’s no solid MO linking the two victims except they’re around our age. And if I have to drag your lifeless corpse out of the woods, I’m going to absolutely lose it. So please, for the love of God, just watch yourself. Make sure Libby does the same,” Dean said.

Maybe he should just tell Cas now? Tell him the truth; that there was something not human out there sacrificially killing people.

No. He couldn’t. Maybe later, but not now. Not like this. Not on their first date.

Dean reached for Cas’ hand again, desperately needing the contact. Cas looked guarded for a second before letting Dean take his hand. “Hey. Can you please look at me?” Dean asked quietly.

Cas finally tilted his body back towards Dean, and Dean sagged in relief. Slowly, so he didn’t spook Cas, Dean shifted his free hand up to Cas’ jaw, tilting his head up as he swooped down and pressed a chaste kiss to Cas’ lips. Cas hesitated for half a second before he leaned into the kiss, his hand coming up to rest on Dean’s bicep.

“Trust me when I tell you the absolute last thing I want to do right now is bail on our date. God, Cas. I’d stay here all night with you if I could,” Dean murmured, pressing the words into Cas’ lips.

“Then stay,” Cas whispered.

Fuck. Dean felt his heart clench in his chest, and he moved forward to kiss Cas harder; catching Cas’ lip between his own. “I can’t, Cas. It’s- Sam and I are the only ones that can figure this out and stop it.”

“Then come find me later?” Cas asked, bumping his nose against Dean’s with a hint of hope in his voice.

God. Dean knew that wasn’t a promise he could keep. Hunting monsters was unpredictable; sometimes all night spent trying and failing to kill the damn thing. But Dean was absolutely gone for Cas, and how could he deny Cas such a simple request? Especially when he wanted it, too.

“Tell me where, and I’ll find you,” Dean said, pressing their foreheads together.

“The diner. We don’t close until midnight,” Cas said quietly.

“Will you make me more hot cocoa?” Dean asked, trying to lighten the moment again.

Cas smiled, and God, Dean didn’t even realize how much he’d missed Cas’ smile over the past few minutes. But it was beautiful- Cas was beautiful- and so he leaned forwards, pecking Cas’ mouth again, just to feel that smile pressed against his own lips.

Dean broke the kiss, nuzzling his nose against Cas’ before pulling away. “I’ll see you soon?” he asked as he stood up.

“You’d better,” Cas said, reaching out at the last possible second to snag Dean’s hand; squeezing tightly.

With a smile, Dean bent down to press a lingering kiss to the back of Cas’ fingers before he finally slipped away. Each step closer to the Impala made Dean’s heart ache, and he had to force himself to get behind the wheel and drive away; even as his heart screamed at him to turn back and chase after Cas instead of the case.

Tag List Part 1 Below- (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list!)

Tag List: @cas-deserved-so-much-more @hello-x-sunshine @bibelphegor @likepurplemuses @expectingtofly @neo-neo-neo @shadowywerewolfqueen @a-sweet-indisposition @feraladoration @xojo

@oganizediguana @paintdriesfaster @adsp-destielcockles @destielangst @im-your-huckle-berry @justa-crayon @dea-stiel @superduckbatrebel @destielfactory @miluiel-erynion

@y-yo-a-ti-cas67 @cockleslovesdestiel @toxic-nebula @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @enchantinghairdoherringwombat @proudace @galaxymysteryelephant @aelysianmuse @ramennoodles-dean-cas @you-changedmedean

@gmos-winter-wonderland @deansotherotherblog @trekkie24 @geo-val @dizzypinwheel @hermionevaldez9 @gimmeprozac @iamsherlockedondoctorwho @dickspeightjrs @imbiowaresbitch

@destielle @hopefuldreamers-world @organicpurplepants @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you @shut-up-dean @sapphirecobalt-1 @eshaninjer @spnobsessed50 @mishka @holygoddessofvictory

@jayus-fandom-writer @2musiclover2 @rainbowscas @bennedict @cassiecasyl @jensenacklesruinedmylife @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @chaoticdean @destiel-trash-asf @tlakhtwritesdestiel

@bri-winchester @50shadesofcockles @trasherasswood @spittingpagan @castielstolemyheart @becky-srs @phoenix13 @jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets @deancasology @top13zepptraxx

@love-neve-dies @good-things-do-happen-dean @tearsofgrace @thedirtytrenchcoat @a-porno-with-the-russian-mafia @on-a-bender @moi-the-bard @one-more-offbeat-anthem @naturallyathief @queen-rowenas

[shhh-no-ones-home]

promiscuity* chris motionless x reader

+++++++++ "Oh my God they were roommates"

Younger chris, i still have a thing for that version of him lol, think early creatures

*- casual roommate sex, woo!

Song: flatline by orla gartland

tag list: @musicsexandpizza69 @svintsandghosts @theoneandonlykymberlee @alilpunkrock @cynic-spirit @thisplace-ishaunted @lifeisabitchandsoareyou +++++++++

"will you answer something for me?"

i asked, not looking away from the movie playing in front of us.

"yeah."

he said through a tired voice. i took a drink of my coffee.

"i know we live together and all, but i feel like we arent as close as we should be. how come?"

he hummed.

"how do you mean."

i shrugged.

"like, we spend time together, like right now. which is super cool or whatever. but how come we never go do stuff? like you never ask me if i wanna go hang out somewhere, but i ask you all the time. even though you never accept."

he shrugged back.

"i dont know, i guess i just never thought about it. i dont exactly get out much so there isnt a place for me to invite you to."

i frowned.

"not even to like the store? we do share a fridge and cabinets and a house after all."

he shrugged again.

"you always make a list, its not exactly hard to follow."

i sighed.

"i guess youre right."

he took a drink of his own coffee.

"whats got you thinking about this anyway?"

he rested his hand against his stomach, sinking further into the couch. i glanced over him for a second.

"how would you feel if i brought someone over?"

i asked and he finally looked at me. i guess there was the answer i was looking for.

"like another friend?"

he asked and i side nodded.

"or like a romantic partner."

he cleared his throat, readjusting in his seat.

"oh, uh, its whatever i guess. just dont do it in front of me or anything."

he said through a nervous laugh and i could see the tension running through his body.

"chris?"

he took another drink before answering.

"yeah."

i smirked to myself.

"do you dig me like that?"

his head shot in my direction, eyes wide.

"what? no. what do you mean?"

he said quickly and i couldnt help but laugh. i turned to face him, full body this time, setting my coffee on the table in front of us.

"i can see it on your face. you dont want me to get with anyone else."

he pulled at his shirt collar like he needed air before setting his own cup on the coffee table.

"why would you say that?"

he said nervously. i leaned forward and poked his cheek.

"youre face wouldnt be that red if you didnt."

he sent me a testing look.

"my face is not red."

i poked him again.

"yes it is! you are blushing!"

he shook his head.

"yeah cause youre making me uncomfortable. it just does that."

i sent him a look.

"oh come on chrissy, just admit it. youve thought about banging me before."

i tried, egging him on. he rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

"no."

he said nonchalantly. i pouted.

"why not? ive thought about doing it with you."

i confessed and his eyes got as big as saucers.

"you have?"

he said, disbelieving and i nodded my head quickly.

"yeah, dont you wanna know what its like?"

he thought for a second before letting his arms drop.

"yeah i guess so, i mean ive only done it with a few people. like seriously, i could count on one hand-"

"i get it."

i interrupted. i stared over him for a second.

"okay, take your shirt off."

he raised a brow.

"what?"

i motioned to him before moving to kneel on the couch.

"take your shirt off, we're doing this. i wanna know what youre like in bed."

i said in a stern tone. he just stared at me.

"wait, for real?"

he asked and i nodded.

"yes, take your shirt off."

i said sternly and he jumped a little.

"okay, i guess we're doing this."

he said, moving to do as told.

"just, take it easy okay?"

he asked and i nodded, watching him as he tossed his shirt and jacket to the floor.

"how do you want me? top? bottom? behind?"

i sent him a knowing look before letting out a short laugh.

"bottom, for sure. youve only done this a handful of times remember? im gonna give you a whole new experience."

he smiled at me, swinging his legs up onto the couch between us.

"okay, as you wish."

he said as i moved to crawl over him.

"we'll start slow."

i said and he nodded, watching me intently as i inched closer to his face. i ran my pointer finger gently over his jaw, watching him shiver as i looked into his eyes.

"such a pretty thing."

i said lowly before capturing his lips in mine. he kissed me back needily, his hand moving to the back of my head. as we began making out i trailed my finger tips lightly across his chest and stomach, moving to palm him through his jeans. he moaned into my mouth before i pulled away, beginning to kiss along his jaw and neck.

"do you like that?"

i whispered against his ear before planting a soft kiss behind it. he nodded slowly and i watched as he closed his eyes, melting into my touch. i could feel his jeans getting tighter against my hand and smirked as I kissed down his chest, stopping just below his bellybutton and biting lightly as he laid back.

"Hey!"

He said in defense, looking down at me and making me laugh a little to myself.

"What?"

I asked innocently, getting comfy between his legs. he sent me a look.

"Leave my stomach alone."

I smirked at him before rolling my eyes playfully.

"Why? It's cute."

I said, kissing the spot I had just bitten. I could see a blush creeping its way back to his face.

"It is not cute."

He protested and I sent him a testing look.

"It is too now shut up and let me take your pants off."

I said, making him laugh.

"Fine, just don't laugh."

I started on his belt buckle, looking to his face quickly.

"I'm not gonna laugh at you Chris."

I confirmed, my hand grazing the tent straining against his jeans.

"Promise?"

I sent him a small smile before leaning down and kissing his bulge, moving to unzip his pants.

"I promise."

I said lowly, pulling at his waistband. I pulled his pants down slowly, his erection popping free. My eyes went wide, a sound I'd never made before coming from deep in my throat.

"What's wrong?"

He asked, a little skeptical and I shook my head.

"Absolutely nothing."

I confirmed before crawling back up him and kissing him deeply. He sighed into my mouth as I trailed my hand slowly down his torso, feeling one of his hands tracing circles into my arm and the other holding my head in place. As we made out again I began stroking him slowly, hearing low moans emerge from his throat. When I pulled away he still had his eyes closed and was breathing deeply.

"Can I ride you?"

I asked to confirm, kissing slowly across his jaw and be nodded.

"If it feels this good you can do whatever you want to me."

He breathed out and I smirked against him as I got further down his neck.

"Sounds like a plan."

I said lowly, sitting up and tossing my top to the ground. He barely opened his eyes and offered me a small smile. I knelt on either side of him, pushing my pants down a bit before standing on the couch and pulling them down completely. I heard his breathing hitch as he stared up at me, watching my every move intently as I pushed my panties down, slipping them off and dropping them onto his chest. I heard him groan as I fell slowly back down onto my knees, one leg on either side of him.

"Are you still okay with this?"

I asked, moving to kiss him again, watching him nod his head quickly.

"God yes."

He said as I pulled away. I smiled down at him before reaching over to the coffee table and pulling a condom out of the drawer. He sent me a weird look before dropping my panties to the floor.

"How long have those been there?"

He asked and I shrugged.

"I don't know I had them left over from that house party I went to like a month ago."

He laughed a little as I scooted down into his lap.

"Evidently I need to check that drawer more often."

He said and I sent him a playful wink.

"Guess so."

I said, raising my brows quickly. I ripped the condom open quickly, pushing the tip out and spitting into it. He drew his brows at me before watching me roll it into him. I sent him a smirk.

"You ready?"

I asked, lining myself up with him. He nodded again.

"Give it to me."

He said deeply, his hands going to my hips. I sank down onto him, hearing him moan quietly. I couldn't help smiling to myself as I sat up and pushed back down onto him, watching his mouth open slightly. His eyes were half closed but still trained on me as I started working against him, getting a good rhythm.

"Can I touch you?"

He asked a little bashfully and I nodded, leaning over him.

"Touch me all over."

I said lowly, looking over his face. I felt his hands slide slowly up my side, leaving little goosebumps in their wake. I kissed him endearingly as his hands got to my boobs, moaning into his mouth as he kneaded them in his palms. When our mouths detached I grabbed his one hand and intertwined our fingers against my chest.

"Try this."

I said, moving his other hand and running my thumb over my nipple. I hummed at the feeling, closing my eyes as he copied the action. I nodded, a smile forming on my face as I felt him sit up and lick a stripe over my nipple.

"Yeah, like that."

I said, my hand going to the back of his head as he took my nipple into his mouth, taking it gently between his teeth. I moaned loudly, letting go of his other hand and moving it to the couch to steady myself. He wrapped his free hand around my body, placing it firmly against my back. Then he detached his mouth and I inhaled sharply.

"I'm close."

He breathed out, falling back into the couch. I nodded, reaching down between us and circling my clit. My mouth dropped as he reached up and pinched my nipples again.

"Oh fuck."

I moaned out.

"I think I'm close too."

I said, moving my hips against him in a circular motion.

"God I'm gonna cum."

He said, digging his head into the couch. I felt him twitch in me before he moaned loudly, his hands stopping and his entire body tensing up. I kept moving though, watching his chest rise and fall.

"Oh my God."

He said a little dazed and I froze, pushing my finger against my clit and my entire body shaking on top of him. I let out a long whiney moan, dropping my head back as I came around him.

"Oh."

I moaned out, falling forward and catching myself against his chest. everything was little blurry for a second but when he came back into focus We both looked at each other and nervous laughed.

"Thanks for that."

I said a little breathless and he smiled at me. I could feel him starting to go soft in me.

"No, thank you."

He said as I sat up straight again. I pulled up and off of him, inhaling deeply at the lack of contact. I brought my one leg in before falling next to him against the back of the couch, still breathing pretty deeply. I placed my hand gently against his chest, feeling his heart pounding against his rib cage.

"Sounds like I did a good job."

I said, looking up at him with a cheesy grin on my face. He looked down at me and smiled, wrapping his arms around me and turning to face me, kissing me quickly.

"Oh you absolutely did."

[gremlin-gr4pes]

Analogical request- Logan lives on the other side of the country from Virgil, and Virgil has been struggling so Logan sends a “you can do this” card and a teddy bear with a tie on it to help Virgil get through what he’s going through. 💜💜💜

Analogical request by @hedgiehoggles

Before we start. Let's clarify. This is an Analogical one shot that has been requested with a prompt ask. I do not own these characters and I may draw some artwork to go with it if I ever get the inspiration.

(PS. This will take place in 3rd person)

Word count: 7, 835 (woah 0-0)

Tw: Anxiety attack, crying, hurt-comfort, fluff. Please tell me if I've missed anything.

Au: Human

•-------------------------------------------------•

It had been rough. This whole week, A bombardment of assignments. Deadlines that he just could not meet. Not to mention he didn't understand what the current question he was stuck on. The words didn't make sense to him, not to mention the whole subject confused him. English. Well not the subject excactly, it was their current topic that confused him the most. Most of the text was in Latin and poor Virgil had his download of the translation crash and delete. Which stressed him out even more. He needed that translation if he didn't want to fail this course.

He had been trying to save that download for over an hour now and he just couldn't. He couldn't take it anymore.

A wet substance fell onto his keyboard alerting Virgil that he was now crying. Which in return made him realise how stressed this entire ordeal had made him as he now noticed his hands trembling over the keys of his laptop. The hitched sound as he inhaled and exhaled in short shakey breaths. His thoughts spiraling as the dreaded feeling began to settle in.

Virgil moved his laptop away as he shut the damned thing, it was unbearable to look at anymore. Bringing his knees to his chest, the teen buried his head inside as he hugged them tightly. His breathing quick and sharp. He knew what his boyfriend would say. What he would do.

Logan loved Virgil and Virgil loved Logan. The only thing in the way was the long distance between their states. Logan lived in Ohio as Virgil lived in Florida. It was an unbearable fact that they had to deal with. Hopefully college would be better.

Though, even the thoughts of his loved one surrounded him, it didn't cease his crying, nor his trembling. Virgil raised his head, reaching for his phone, decorated with a plain black case with a bunch of band stickers stuck on.

With blurred vision he tried his best to get onto the chat with Logan.

Virge💜:

Hey,.

Lo✨💙:

Hello, Darling. Is something the matter?

Virgil let out a small laugh. He always knew if something was wrong.

Virge💜:

can ee call??

Immediately the phone lit up, asking to accept or decline. Virgil didn't even care if Logan chose a voice call or video call, he immediately answered and was met with Logan settling his phone down on his desk. A concerned look loomed over his usual stoic face.

"Virgil? Darling, what's the matter?" was what the latter heard immediately. Sending a wave of hot tears down his face just by the sound of his voice.

"I.. I-" Virgil's voice hitched and stuttered as he tried to answer the question.

"okay, I understand. I'm here, just listen to me, okay?" Logan said over the phone. His voice laced with concern for his boyfriend. "You don't need to tell me what happened until you're ready. Whatever it is I love you, and I always will. Don't ever forget that, now.. Please follow my lead" Logan added, Virgil nodded when needed.

"deep breath in 1, 2, 3 and 4" Virgil did excactly that as Logan firmly counted to a pace he could handle. "now hold.. 1, 2, 3, 4" virgil held his breath, a hand over his mouth to help the process "6, 7.. Virgil, exhale, 1, 2, 3, 4.." Virgil's breath was a struggle to control but he managed.

The pair continued the breathing exercise until Virgil's breath had regulated. The trembling was long gone and the thoughts had faded, tears were now a dry trail of salt down his face. "Lo... Thank you" his voice was weak and tired after the anxiety attack but endearing at the same time.

"Virgil, don't worry about it. I'd be there in a heartbeat if it weren't for the hellish journey to Florida" the pair laughed gently, though the statement was all but false. The journey would be a long one and by the time Logan got to his house it would be the end of the day.. Or the next day.

The couple talked and laughed all through the night before they decided it be best to go to sleep. That night, Virgil felt much better than what that evening had brought him prior to that phone call.

•----Timeskip because I said so----•

Virgil was sat in the living room. A rare sight but his parents were out shopping at that very and was told to stay downstairs as the washing was currently on. He was minding his business, the TV set on YouTube with music blaring at a level that drowned out his neighbors clatter and their children's screaming. Whilst he, himself, was scrolling through tumblr, his safe haven.

That was until he heard a knock on the door. Virgil looked out of the window due to curiosity, keeping the curtains moderately closed as he took a peek to see who it was.... A mailman?

Confused, Virgil stood from his perched spot and headed to the front door, undoing the hatch and opening the door. "Package for uhm-" the mailman checked the name "-Virgil Storm?"

"oh.. Uhm.. Yeah, that's me.." he stammered, more confused on why he had a package.

"okay, here" the mailman handed him the box and started walking away. Perplexed, Virgil stood there for a moment before shutting the door once more and setting down on the couch once more.

Virgil stared at the box in his perched seat, wondering what on earth could be inside. Carefully he rattled the box, it was pretty light and whatever was making the quiet thud inside wasn't that bit either. Maybe packing peanuts were silencing it?

He let out a huff before finally ripping the tape off (with his teeth, naturally. What else is he gonna do? Get a box cutter? No). Once the tape was off he opened the box. Instantly met with the eyes of a medium sized brown bear and a blue stripy tie. Virgil's eyes lit up by the sight as he went to grab it, he was greeted with the overly soft sensation of fur.

Bringing the bear close to his chest he peered into the package once more, finding a card letter. He picked it up. The card was a lilac and with a slight sent of peppermint. That's when he remembered what Logan had told him one day. That he had hand lotion that was peppermint scented, what he had said 'one of my favourite fragrances'. A simple little memory that brought a smile to his face as he realised who had sent this sudden gift his way.

Virgil turned to card and began to read what was written upon the card.

"You can do this..

No matter what the world may bring. Believe in me. Know that I will always be there for you. I may live far but I assure you, I will answer your calls within a heartbeat. (And if not, you may scold me.)

If you may ever require a reminder, please refer to the sophisticated bear.

He will comfort you when I cannot.

Love

- Logan ❤"

Virgil stared down at the card, a smile plastered upon his face. He looked up, glances around before spitting his phone, instantly picking it up and going to the chat that belonged to solely him and his boyfriend.

Virge💜:

Hey Lo!

Lo, heyhey!

Hello!

Hi,,?

You online?

Can I scold you?

Lo✨💙:

Scold me?

Virge💜:

Yeah,, you are the one that sent this bear.. Right?

Lo✨💙:

Yes, of course. I merely forgot I added that.

But, please don't my messages a slightly delayed.

Virge💜:

Suuuure~

Lo✨💙:

Well, I believe you contacted me regarding the gift I sent your way.

Do you like it?

Virge💜:

Of course I do,, it's perfect

Thank you,,

Lo✨💙:

I'm glad you like it. I meant every word.

Even the scolding part.

Virge💜:

Srsly? XD

Welp, I'll be abusing that factor.

Don't leave me alone too long XD

Lo✨💙:

Of course.

Virge💜:

Wanna call?

Logan smiled on his side before pressing the video call button. The call immediately being accepted on the other side. The couple talked for as long as they could until Virgil's parents came home. The break between that call and the next wasn't long as Virgil wasn't needed for that long.

It's safe to say, Virgil loves the bear. Ensuring it's always in the bed when he sleeps. In his arms when he starts to panic or simply when he's thinking of the one he loves.

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