#in her defense these jerks hurt what is hers >:( they deserve a bit of getting knocked around >:(

[ostensiblywhump]

Hands and Eyes, Hearts and Hurts

Whumpuary day 3: choice | storm | black eye

Word count: 1,041

Content warnings: minor injury

———(0)———

Thick-fingered hands tugged too hard on the knot of her bandages; Zoé cringed, flinching despite herself.

“Brier,” she breathed, less scolding and more pleading, nearly quiet enough to be lost in the rain.

Eyes looked up at her, poisonously bright green and casting strange light. Maybe it was the shadows that made Brier look otherworldly and striking, a wild thing aching to crack her human shell, starting from her slit pupils. Maybe it was just her expression, wide-eyed and empty, humanity fleeing what currently did not welcome it. Maybe it was just their general disarray, a haze of fatigue and pain settled over their senses, and only the dangerous stood out. Here this fey one crouched, clawed and fanged and all too ready to use that sharpness.

Brier simply looked down again, and her next tug at the knot was gentler.

Zoé’s exhale shuddered as it left her. “Brier,” she said again, and thunder rolled. “We need to ….”

Those hands left her bandaged arm. Zoé watched Brier’s fingers swipe into an opened container of salve; the antiseptic sting seared, as it was rubbed into the cuts all over her forearms and hands. Curse those bushes, and their spines.

“I know,” Brier said, low and stony.

“Karmic,” Zoé kept going, unable to stop. “Sor, Sim … those motherfu—”

“Don’ ge’ me in trouble with Bion,” Brier said, a dimple flickering into view as a corner of her lips twitched up. Her pupils dilated, just a bit, and it made the hair on the back of Zoé’s neck stop prickling.

“Ugh,” she mock-huffed. “I’ve been punched, cut, thrown into the bushes. I deserve sayin’ some bad words.”

The dimple fled into hiding; everything became eerily silent, even with the constant downpour. In hindsight, it was definitely the wrong thing to say, talking about the injuries dealt to her.

“So how will we do this?” Zoé said. “We saw … how many of them? Around thirty? Was hard to see, it was already gettin’ dark. We’ve gotten a few, Karmic and the others have captured some.” The sight of those thugs trapped against trees or muddy ground by webs of ice was hard to miss, and relieving to see, after they’d gotten split up. “We’ll have a nice chance of trackin’ the rest, with your ears an’ my vibration sense. If we use the cover of the trees an’ shado—mph!”

A hand, still sticky with salve, clapped over her mouth. Green eyes met hers, widening, too wide again, pupils paper-thin. Brier stared into her very being for a long moment, then her gaze flicked over to the right, unblinking. Zoé looked too, despite having no chance of hearing whatever Brier heard, and saw only the moist bark of the den under tree roots that Brier had carved out.

Ten seconds later, she heard it—a shorter interval than she expected, but the rain was probably dampening Brier’s ability to hear. Splashing, squelching footsteps, heavy and unsubtle but still a ways off. Coming closer—Brier had raised the dark clay of the dirt into walls high enough that they couldn’t be seen, but they weren’t the only people with heightened senses, and that wasn’t even mentioning magic sensing, or locator spells.

The dirt was wet enough to hold a rune well; slowly, Zoé’s hand lowered to the ground, ready to trace.

A long, deep groan threaded through her ears. Zoé sympathized. She was pretty displeased about trekking through a storm-damp forest, too. But then the groan got louder, went creaking; a cry rang out, and her eyes snapped over to the predator-still figure crouched before her.

Unbidden, her hand pressed flat to the ground, and she felt it: vibrations, the earth itself trembling as the trees woke up at the command of the one who asked them. The cry rose into a scream, then cut off at a muted boom that made her tremor in tandem with the clay and sent a chill down her spine.

The rain, alone in its concert once more. Light flickered; thunder rumbled in brief concerto.

The hand over her mouth finally unclasped its unyielding grip. Zoé sucked in air, hyperaware of the claw-tipped thumb skating over her cheek, her breaths ghosting over callused palm. Brier’s hand settled, careful, over the bone-deep ache surrounding Zoé’s eye, one that would be spectacularly purple-black when she next looked in a mirror, and with the softest pressure, rubbed over the developing bruise like her care and the remnant salve could help the blood dying under Zoé’s skin.

Zoé inhaled, unbearably loud in this hush. “You have issues with excessive force, even when you can see what you’re doin’ to your enemy,” she murmured. Warned.

Brier’s head slowly cocked to one side. Menacingly vivid, her eyes studied Zoé, all her hurts and her soul.

“I find it hard caring,” she said, ponderous, “about people that hurt my friends.”

Zoé’s breath left her in a hiss. “Well, start carin’,” she said, pressing forward into Brier’s grasp, no matter if it made her wince. “If we get someone killed—what are you doin’? Brier?”

Wood grated, as Brier’s hand left Zoé’s face, as she stood, looming over Zoé. The scent of petrichor and mud grew stronger; the walls rushed away to leave a gap large enough to walk through. One of Brier bare, dirty feet shuffled towards that gap, and Zoé lurched towards her.

“You can’t fight like that, Brier!” she said. “If you go out there, thinkin’ you don’ care if people die—!”

“Ward this place,” Brier said, stepping backwards. Raindrops pelted her, streaking dark spots over the last dry parts of her clothes. “Make it safe. I’ll bring Sor an’ Sim here. If anyone comes, an’ it’s not me or Karmic ….”

She didn’t smile. Brier didn’t know how to, when she was like this. She bared her teeth, all her canines on display, threatening and intent on what Zoé’s wards could do to someone that tripped them, and the pale gleam of those teeth was Zoé’s last glimpse of the outside world as the walls shot back up, sealing the way out.

Quiet. Brier’s footsteps didn’t make a sound. Zoé was alone with the rain and the roaring thunder.

[dualogical]

Quiet remembers things in MoC. He remembers everything else, that is.

"Shit! Shit! What the hell was that? Who are we? What are we doing?" That was Paranoid, too tense to the point of looping back into distracted. He had heard all that before. When?

"There was a Princess, I think. It’s all so fuzzy. It hurts when I try to remember." Broken, living up to his name, even though there was another way, even though it didn't have to be like this-

'Not a Princess. The Shifting Mound.' He corrected, mind starting to reel with the information.

Collective confusion for half a second, shattered by the Narrator, of all things.

'Where have you heard that name?!'

He -- Quiet, he remembered that now -- tried to ignore the echo in his head.

'You jump to one of the floating trees and make yourself comfortable in the exposed base-- Really?! I don’t know how you came across that name, but you're here to slay the Princess who will end the world!'

"She can wait a few more minutes,' his voices needed, deserved the break, even without the memories threatening to overwhelm him. 'How about we rest here for a bit when nothing's chasing us?'

"Decider, we’re supposed to let her out. It’s really the only way this works out for us, if you think about it. She’s the one with power here. Nobody else can do much of anything," and that was Opportunist, beaten down by one of the cruelest iterations of Her.

They went quiet. Maybe they were seeing everything too.

This was far less one-way than it seemed. If he focused inward, if he let his eyes drift shut and dreamed, he could feel the tiny jerks and tugs of his Voices acting on him, and...

Even Cold, too regular to be noticed unless he actually focused, lost to sensory fatigue. Creeping up on him like ice.

A wave of memories assaulted him. His actual identity, the Princess', the one path when it seemed like Cold, not Hero, had nested close to his heart.

"So you did listen to me," Cold’s voice was usually monotone and deceptive in its softness, but approval was something Quiet had never expected from him.

"And he was miserable for it!" Smitten seemed to have regained life at the novelty, at the realization that the eternity of torture that they had suffered could pass. "Whatever vision that was, please don't let it come to pass!"

"How could you call that being unfeeling?" Hunted asked, "There was so much fear."

"You wrestled control away from everyone. Impressive," Opportunist said. "Good thing I've always been on your side. We can turn this around, aren’t we a God?"

As if karma had decided to fuck that voice over in particular, what they saw next was betrayal, in different ways.

Opportunist, Broken, Smitten. With more or less intent, but still.

"Are Icy, Loudmouth and I the only ones who didn't think the decider was a puppet out of the blue?! What's wrong with all of you?!" Stubborn, coming to his defense.

They kept coming. Eating and being eaten. Betrayal and being betrayed in turn. Submission and rebellion. Love turning sour. Pain for the sake of it. A cycle of pain that he kept perpetuating by choosing to go back go the beginning. But this construct had cracks, in the end. All those memories were a consequence of it.

It was his fault. It was his mistakes and failures that destroyed everything again.

And then the visions that, he knew, could come to pass someday.

Hero getting him to the Heart and they left as mortals, with him choosing to stay behind.

Killing Transformation and exploring a world with his Voices, always together. Or reaping the consequences of his actions. Hero was the most disturbed by that one, for some reason.

Quiet accepting Her request to leave as Gods and-

They reeled as the vision simply stopped being something their minds could interpret. Quiet felt a part of what he called his sanity crumble. Paranoid seemed fine.

'Enough data for you, detective?' he couldn’t help but ask, memories too fresh considering Skeptic’s metaphorical flinch.

"You've been doing this for a long time, haven't you?" Contrarian was uncharacteristically subdued, but having several lifetimes' worth of memories would make anyone slow down and process.

The question remained, now that they knew, what would they do with that information?

[tpher]

scary girl analysis !

something something the most clearly gimmicky gen 4 character we know. as your resident pahkitew island apologist, i dont care. it actually took me a bit to warm up to her and i figured id talk abt why that is

so her main thing is being creepy and sadistic for the sake of jokes. its not serious.. mostly. she does prove to actually be down to hurt others (such as when she got a hold of a jackhammer). but what about an instance where she wanted to hurt someone for actual reasons? when was that?

that was when priya went up to her to compliment her on doing a good job on the previous challenge. priya says that shes surprised by scary girl having done a good job.

scary girls response?

a very defensive "oh, it surprised you that i was good? cuz you thought id do bad?"

and thats the thesis of this post

scary girl is very insecure

backing up for a moment, in ep 2 when the teams were on ships and attacking each other, she was the one who came up with the idea of sinking the other teams ship as an idea on what to do when they were out of ammo (? iirc). but no one else heard that, just zee

then in ep 3, ripper makes her go last in the relay race thing bc he didnt want her to "blow things" for the team. she reacts by trying to bite his finger. not with a funny creepy smile, but with genuine anger to her literal bite. and then during that challenge, she infamously grabs a bear by the arm and starts beating it up while saying "thats what you get for growling at me!!!". once shes done, she goes "byeee" and goes on like nothing happened. proving that if someone wrongs her, she can easily let it go.. so long as she gets to do something back. remember this for later

and here we come back to her interaction with priya. so far, scary girl has proven herself to be a pretty alright player and she herself knows that. so the notion of someone being SURPRISED she did well?? does not sit well with her at all. but the way that she harps on the wording, even before zee steps in to make it worse, is what gets to me. it just really adds an extra layer to her character that, well. ironically surprised me! for someone who always seems to be in her own world, so unconventional, so ill-fitting with everyone else to also be insecure in some capacity?

anyway she tries to hurt priya with a spoon but gets interrupted. later on, priya is still thinking abt their encounter and feels bad so she tries to make it up to scary girl by flattering her. namely by saying that scary girls question was smart.. and priya being her awkward self, only dug herself in a hole by making it seem like that was a smart question by scary girls standards

scary girl is speechless. baffled. mad beyond words

it should be noted that scary girl looked offended when priya even started speaking. meaning that she also did not forget about their conversation that morning. she REALLY took it to heart. applying the bear logic here, had scary girl hurt her with the spoon earlier, would she be less mad? would she had considered each other even? and in that case, would this comment go over better or would it had simply restarted her need for revenge?

well. they dont interact for the rest of the episode up until the very end. after ripper used priya as a human shield, obviously injuring her

scary girl tells her that rippers a jerk and that priya didnt deserve that. so she'll be voting to get ripper out. and calls priya her "friend".

(her face and tone makes me a bit suspicious if this was genuine. but thats probably just her being her offputting self so i'll ignore it.) ok so by scary girl logic, priya deserved to have SOMETHING bad coming her way after what she said to her.

but not this.

scary girl, who came here to "make friends and watch them get really hurt", was not okay with what ripper did to priya. perhaps she thinks that only she could be allowed to hurt priya to balance things out? personally giving priya her karma, perhaps?

but now she considers priya a "friend". who likely wants to see her get hurt. but in the fun way that scary girl likely sees most other contestants as, possibly? idk.

anyway after all of that, we can see just how insecure scary girl can get over unintentionally awkward phrasing. just how deeply it hurts her feelings to be underestimated like that

season 2 spoilers ahead !!!

in season 2, we see even less of her. but there is SO much to work with

normal girl is so fascinating to me

by the time s2 starts, scary girl already has an all new look. shes trying to be "normal"

she admits in her confessional that some ppl thought she was too scary in the first season so thats why she changed her appearance and her everything. who were these ppl?

other than a dog as a joke, online forums, showing an interesting glimpse into the in-universe ""real world"" stepping into total drama. perhaps also a meta joke on the fandoms response to her but who knows. imagine unabashedly being yourself on tv and everyone is telling you to change. you are 16 and likely going through a weird phase. feeling a lot of heightened emotions already and ""knowing"" that this is who you are (at the moment). and if its not a phase? still 16 on international television getting lambasted by millions

and last but not least, her MOM??? her own mother. that just raises more questions abt how scary girl was before getting on td. was she NOT like this before? was she playing it up for the cameras? or did she just go unhinged without parental supervision? in any case the fact is that even her own mom wasnt okay with what makes her happy and how she presented herself.

so scary girls solution? to try her best to suppress anything that made her unique. to try to adhere to "societal norms", in her own words.

we dont see much of her in this ep other than her commenting on how shes normal and totally did not want to see someone get hurt. shes clearly struggling so bad. she knows that apparently what she likes isnt "right", therefore the opposite must be true, right?

she is simultaneously so immediately different that the others didnt even recognize her at first. yet still so "scary" that she cant fit in. she just doesnt know how no matter how hard she tries. if she were to stay longer, what can she do? this game is not only abt your skills in the challenges its also a social thing. how long until she snapped and went back to her old ways?

and then we get to the campfire ceremony. chef is about to call out whatever it was the she did wrong that day, but she interrupts him with a simple "no."

she cannot fathom being sent home, at least not this early. bc shes normal! she is sooo normal and she tried SO HARD to be normal! she read normal books and normal movies and studied normal people. she even taught herself to smile in a more acceptable way, which is so autistic coded to me. so she deserves to stay longer.

(getting flashbacks to my topher psychoanalysis and his entitlement being both a tragedy and his self-imposed downfall)

..but she studied "normal people" in her own not-normal way. while they werent looking. while they were sleeping. while they had no idea she was there.

so she got booted out for that. and she cannot believe it.

when she says that she "didnt even try to hurt anyone this time", she is mad. that was her ""fun"" and she managed to control it 100% only to get eliminated??? shes fed up!

but when she talks about how she taught herself how to smile in a "less-creepy" way?

she softens up and looks genuinely hurt.

she tried so hard. she saw all those horrible comments from people judging her based on like 5 episodes on a reality show. her own mother didnt accept her. her insecurity won and she aimed to change and repress everything that made her unique

and it still wasnt enough

[generalluxun]

Ya know I think I finally keyed in on something that often nettles me with some stories where Chloe either confronts Ladybug but gets checked, gets chewed out by Ladybug for her behavior in general or finds out she's Marinette go.

IE, either Chloe is upset about how LB handles/handled her in one way or another and gets a talking to. Or she finds out the truth and is overwhelmed by gratitude.

The thing is though, while I can maybe see the characters having these kinds of feelings, it feels a bit off when the narrative seems to go along with it too much.

Mostly because it feels kind of like it draws too strong a parallels between "Is kind of a dick" and "deserves to be in danger & to be largely disregarded."

Like, it took until Season 2 for Marinette to have enough of a heroic game face to even say "No not even Chloe deserves to be fed to the zombie hordes."

As said, I get why the characters might be upsets, she does hurtful or frustrating things. Sometimes she can be detrimental to the plot, though other times she can be quite helpful too. But like, at the end of the day, if the narrative, yes in the show but also in fics, feels like it backs that frustration up it feels skewed to me.

Low key in this regard Derision would almost be helpful, but meh.

Like, say Chloe finds out Marinette's identity post S3 and goes to angrily confront her about the whole "A supervillain was targeting me. You knew this & not only used me anyway but took away my one means of self defense, ETC" thing.

A counter along the lines of "Well you can be kind of an asshole and I don't like you" makes Marinette feel super petty given the scale Chloe's problems are operating on compared to the local jerk being rude to you.

I'm not aiming to minimize Marinette or other characters legitimately hurt feelings. Especially because they are fourteen ETC as well, so expecting them to be perfect is unfair. As said this is more of a narrative issue I guess. It feels like authors lack self awareness if they feel the conflict between real danger and being jerk are the same.

Does this make sense? How would you square such a confrontation if you were writing it?

I mean *waves at Chasing a Dream* I kind of did that, didn't I? The confrontation I mean.

What lots of people forget is that Marinette is not *just* a 14 yr old girl. She's both a hero and a protagonist. The themes of ML should have her trying to achieve good outcomes for everyone. The show *literally* has a reset power to be sure that there is no collateral.

It is *possible* to let Marinette be petty in the moment, to let her get a catharsis, but if she doesn't feel bad about it later and try to fix things then you aren't writing Marinette, you are writing revenge fantasy. -Which if you want to write that, go shead it's your story. It's just best to call a pot a pot.-

How the confrontation would go down would depend on so many things. You would need to give me a setup for me to answer 'How would you write it' 😁

Heck I even have it somewhat hallen in my current fic, Barren Soil, (no ID reveal) but since neither are PoV characters it isn't as spelled out.

[svetree]

Hate You.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader/Unnamed OC Words: 542 Warnings: jerk Jungkook lololol Summary: basically Jungkook's song "Hate You".

That day when all hell broke loose, all ties were cut, and it was the end of them. He had made a mistake so grave, nothing will turn back to the way it was. All things he did, he blamed it all on everything but himself. Not even deep down, he knows, it was all on him. The way that the words left his mouth, all the profanities and blames were thrown like they had no weight. He regretted it. Even though it has been years and all are forgotten, he knows he won’t be easily forgiven. Would it hurt to try?

Perhaps, today might be the day he can piece them all back together. Everything will be forgiven and they will have a fresh new start. Little did he know, too many things have happened outside his lonely life for the past few years. Her heart is whole again, but his is chipped here and there. She had accepted his offer to talk and catch up, but she had no intention of repeating the past.

When it comes to Jungkook apologizing and forgiving another, it all will come down to his unhealthy defense mechanism. One to protect himself, so he blames others. Her soul might be healed, but it was once wounded. No matter what she says to herself to calm down, it would be the biggest lie to say meeting him again didn’t faze her a little bit.

“Why did you leave then?”

“I didn’t leave you, you did,” she didn’t want to do this, she knew if they were to argue, it won’t end.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about– hey! Where are you going!?”

The moment she got up from the chair, his legs were glued to the ground for a hot moment, trying to decide whether it’s better to let her go or chase. He ends up choosing the latter. A few steps outside the shop, he grabs her wrist, stopping her from fleeing. She yanks her wrist out of his grip. A sharp pain pierces through his chest when he sees the first tear fall out of her eye. 

Not able to hold herself back anymore, she yells, “what did I ever do to deserve this? Jungkook, tell me, what did I do?”

You did nothing wrong.

“Everything, you did everything wrong!” he argues.

“I see, if you can tell me just one thing I did wrong, I might just apologize and end whatever this is once and for all.”

They stand there, ignoring all the people walking past by giving them weird stares. She waits for his answer with dread. He’s searching for a mistake she made but can’t think of any. All he can think of is all the things he did that turned them the way they are right now. He croaks out, “I hate you.”

The tears return as he watches her wipe them away, rubbing way too harsh on her skin. Her nose turns even redder from the cold and crying. He wishes she could say it back. He wishes she said that she hated him more, but she just gathered herself together. She gives him one last look that he can’t decipher before walking away, and gone for good. 

[cartooncadet666]

Diary Entry #1:

Okay... I think I have to vent about some of these things, I can't focus I need to get all of this off my mind.

Starting with that...

Spiral has been getting very defensive lately, every time someone from our school says anything remotely negative about Skeebo, he gets so frustrated that sometimes it's hard not to speak back at the student for using a foul mouth.

He keeps his usual joking and goofy mood, being optimistic in hard times, but he's also been growing more serious when others are included in our dangerous missions or when people are getting misunderstood due to hurtful stereotypes.

I don't know why he's acting this way, last week, he got into a fist fight with another boy because they were saying hurtful things like Skeebo "deserved" his death. When they both got sent to the office, everyone was saying that the kid needed to get pounded on after that. All of this new stress towards everyone just got worse, and Pac and Spiral got the worst of it, I hope nothing else gets affected.

Oh! I almost forgot another thing, ever since his death, the ghosts started dying down on their attacks, a lot of them were more anxious when coming to Pac World. At some point President Spheros asked us to investigate with the Ghost Gang to see what the fuss was, even if the guys were about to protest against it.

And guess what we found? The entire Netherworld started acting like everyone in the city, everyone was anxious and stayed next to each other in groups. Half of Betrayus's guard ghosts were even at that guy Ogle's place! Turns out Betrayus's evil team started getting emotional during the news of Skeebo's execution, I think him, Specter, and Buttocks were the ones more ballistic. That was why the ghost attacks were dying down, they were all very sensitive to the President's decisions and execution was just a topic they despised for him to do.

I know I'm probably complaining of how things have been recently, but we're still hurting at the end of the day. Pac hasn't been eating well, his sleeping issues just worsened, and he's getting so sensitive now, I can't bear to look at him when he's like this, he looks like he'll break any second.. When Skeebo was killed, I couldn't just stand to look at his face when he heard the news, it was like something shattered in him.

School is close to ending for the year, and every time we have our days off Pac stays in the dorm asleep or sulking in his bed. His eyes just grew bags and red from all the crying, and it gets even sadder. Somehow, after the execution they were able to save Skeebo's jacket, a few tears here and there, but I was able to sew it up. Skeebo's friends let Pac keep it, and he wears his jacket everyday at every place he goes, even during our battles.

... I can't help but tear up reading this, like sure okay Skeebo was a jerk, he had his days, but when I found out he got executed by our government I started having second thoughts on the way he's been acting.

Surely he had a reason to spy against us... Right?? I mean, I know his stepmom, I've met her before (and I regret it cause she was such a prick) and I knew Kiki a bit. I knew she transferred to our school after Berry Day, and I found out she moved just to see Skeebo again because they were best friends. But I don't know what his reason would be... Have people been too harsh on him? Was it Betrayus working him off? Was it us? Was it me...?

I don't know what I should be feeling.. I feel so terrible! I hope wherever he is, he's doing better now... There has to be a way to get things back to the way they were, I don't think a lot of us can live with this change forever..

Anyways, that's what I'm going to leave with for now, things will get better soon I'm sure, we just all have to try.

-Cylindria

[inquixotic]

EVELYN & ANGEL, LATER DAY 36.

terrace for some fuckin’ reason

with @dobits !

evelyn mendoza.

evie is significantly calmer after her conversation (cry session) with eden and cheryl both, though she's still processing a little bit of why she was so angry. she still feels pretty dumb, and she does definitely blame angel for that, but she also doesn't want to leave things on the sour note she had earlier in her rush to run away from her feelings and his lackthereof. "do you have a second?" she's purposely softened her tone, to avoid putting him on any kind of defensive. the last thing she needs is for him to think she's just going to chew him out again, even if she sort of wants to. @melly

angel reid

it’d taken heaps of restraint not to pull her following the calamity of their chat earlier. it’s angel’s desperate instinct to fix things when they’re broken, to be liked by everyone, but the fact that he’d already gotten along so well with evie makes things even more frustrating. he’s sitting in his guilt, knee bouncing, when she joins him on the terrace. even though he was expecting her, his heartbeat trips. “yeah, yeah,” he motions for her to sit. “got two even.” gentle humor accompanied by a tight smile. he leans forward, elbows propped up on his knees. “but, like, just so you know, this convo’s just gonna be me apologizing every other sentence. it’s gonna get annoying fast.” smile grows on his face, tries to insert his own bold faced levity, plus it probably isn’t far off from the truth. he’s trying to gauge her, determine her mood. dark eyes watch her expression. “you been okay?”

evelyn mendoza.

"fine," she answers, clipped and to the point in her lingering annoyance, not really acknowledging the humor cues he's giving to try to earn a smile back. she's not ready to exactly tell him every little detail of her therapy session, nor is she exactly thrilled at the idea of talking and laughing with him right now, still. getting to the point of being able to express why she was so upset with him calmly had taken a little bit. "if you could, like, wait on any apologies 'til i'm done?" she asks quietly, tilting her head at him, not really giving him much of an option before she continues, "i just wanted to, like...i think i overreacted a little earlier." evie's a little reluctant to admit even that because, honestly, she does still feel a little led on. "i'm just very intentional with my language. so it really hurt my feelings to hear that you weren't, when you knew where i was at and didn't give me the full context of where you were at? does that make sense?"

angel reid

it’s not entirely surprising when evie slices past the bullshit and hits straight at the stinging nerve of it all, if he’s learned anything about the way she deals with confrontation, it’s that she doesn’t shy from it. luckily he’s already in a position of submissiveness, back curved and hands linked. he nods to her question and then listens with perked ears ‘til she gets to the thoughtful end. “makes sense,” angel answers honestly. “you didn’t do anything wrong, y’know. like, there’s no right way to be hurt.” even clutched in the vice grip of reality tv, filled out by on-call therapists, it’s hard to escape knee jerk reactions. if anything, it’ll make it worse. “i get why you felt that way. like, i made you believe one thing and then today i told you something else.” gaze falls to the terrace floor, nodding understanding. “tell you the truth, i dunno why i did that.” heat of the moment? part of him still thinks it was a genuine misunderstanding, or at least a passing comment, but he can take the L when he deserves it. “but it’s on me, for sure.”

evelyn mendoza.

"it's not even that i was hurt, really? like i was, i guess, but it's more like..." she pauses, searching for the right words, that aren't going to hurt his feelings. "like i feel like what you said wasn't what i understood, so i looked stupid. and that is what hurt?" the fact that he's being so understanding, though, makes it a little bit better, the tension dropping a little from her shoulders as she feels more understood than she did earlier, by his knee jerk reaction of if he hurt her rubbing salt in the stinging wound. "i know i didn't do anything wrong, i just was, like, far too dramatic for how serious it was." she shrugs a little, unapologetic in her feelings still. she feels everything a lot, and she'd rather that than be accused of being too unfeeling. "you don't?" her brow furrows a little, frowning in thought. "it wasn't, like, you just trying to spare my feelings?" it's a little bit of an out, if he'll take it. she doesn't think he's really interested in her, based on this morning, but she's a little susceptible still to his being charming in general, her eyes still fixed on his face even if he's looked away. she's not going to disagree with it being his fault, either, not when he literally said he liked her and cheers to getting to know her. "i just don't understand why you would say something you don't mean, i guess."

angel reid

lower lip rolls thoughtfully inward as he struggles to navigate this conversation. feels worlds away from the ease they’d had getting to know one another yesterday. now he’s not sure what he can say to express how he feels without mis-stepping. angel tries to surmise what she’s told him in succinct bits only to hear that it wasn’t quite like that. he’s not sure how much more they can bake the events without burning it all to a crisp. “um, maybe?” he considers with a tilt of his head. “i guess i didn’t understand that power of words like that.” his gaze flickers to her, bracing for a reaction. if the diplomacy he’s been trying to embody so far has been altogether misses, he’s sure that one won’t land very well. “and…,” a short sigh deflates him, a little reluctant to even broach it, “i’m still kinda dealing with this frankie stuff so i guess that’s where my head was at. and i could tell you were, like, really trying to look out for me and we were just having a good convo. i was just rolling with it, i dunno.”

evelyn mendoza.

she nods slowly, trying to understand his perspective, but feeling a little prickle of annoyance at his words that she tries to force down. it's better to know these miscommunications exists now than later, when she has actual feelings for him. "don't think that's a mistake you'll make again, huh?" she wagers, giving him a tiny smile, to set him a little more at ease. the rest...is more complicated and she cants her head, lips pursed as she considers those words. "yeah, i'm not, like, telling jenny i don't think jude's all in on her, y'know? that's not my style, so it just...i don't know." her words trail off with her thoughts, not wanting to say too much on the frankie callie situation, if he's fine being a second choice like he said. "like, i think callie's really great, y'know? but it just didn't feel right for you to not have the full picture of how it looks." present tense, she notes as she says it, refraining from cringing. "are you doin' better with it now?"

angel reid

“yeah, no kidding,” angel huffs a hollow laugh, unclenching a bit as he leans back into the bench, his hand reaching to massage the nape of his neck. “yeah, it’s all good.” it’s about all the confirmation he’ll afford at the moment. it’s not really the goal to get onto the concept, mostly just wanted to mention it to try and paint the picture of where his head was at during the date, why things got so scrambled. “i’m just… y’know, i want you to know i really am sorry. i feel like such an asshole, like, i ruined your whole entrance and your day and… i dunno, i’m definitely the one who looks stupid here. like, my family’s probably ripping their hair out watching me right now.”

evelyn mendoza.

the apology feels so much more genuine than earlier, too, like he actually gets that she had her feelings hurt this time, but the concept that he ruined her day? her entrance? she snorts, shakes her head a little. “man, all due respect, me cryin’ isn’t like that. you did not ruin my entrance.” it’s almost a little insulting, that he thinks she’d let that ruin her first day, but she can’t blame him when she was the one with the tears. plus, her entrance was before all that, and she still knows she was hot during it. “lettin’ a girl like me pass, though? yeah, nah, you do look pretty stupid.” her dimples reappear with her over-exaggerated self confidence, feeling a little lighter with a genuine apology. “we’re good?”

angel reid

it’s emotional whiplash to keep up with, having gone from being detrimental enough to make her burst into tears over a passing comment to being an absolute joke to imagine it had made an impression. “a’ight,” angel chuckles again, dry and vaguely confused, “i’m glad.” it feels misunderstood, the clean vibe between them crooked like a rollercoaster now and his stomach is stuck in his throat. he feels resolved by offering the apology though, can’t do much more and it makes it easier when it seems like she’s accepted it since it’s not the kinda thing he’d grovel over forever. a more genuine smile cracks over his face. “yeah, ‘course we’re good. i’m glad we talked.”

evelyn mendoza.

he seems a little confused, and she silently is a little glad the entire ordeal had happened practically day 1 — she’s spelled out her side, and him not getting that only means he wouldn’t have understood the next time she cries over something equally ridiculous. “me too,” her smile stretches into something a little more genuine, less for show — she doesn’t like to be angry. “thanks for hearin’ me out despite the dramatics. means a bunch, y’know?”

angel reid

“nah, anytime,” he nods, sincere. at least it won’t feel awkward whenever he passes her in the hall. “and, y’know, likewise. you didn’t have to hear me out, i appreciate that, for real.” a pause, then his lips start into a smile. “so does this mean you’re gonna clue me in on where your heads at now?” after all, half the point of being friends with everybody is that he gets to hear all the gossip, though he’s not entirely sure if he and evie are there quite yet.

evelyn mendoza.

“i clued you in this morning,” she points out, her eyebrows raised, though there’s amusement in it. even if he hadn’t taken it seriously, she had been honest — she just had made a much more concrete decision. “charlene’s still top of list, has been since yesterday.” there’s a tiny pause as she debates sharing that the two kissed, cheeks flushing at the memory, but she shakes her head to shake the jitters off. “i just gotta know that i’m not messin’ with her plans, y’know?”

angel reid

“tippy top of the list, looks like,” he teases, chin jerking up in reference to the flush coloring her face. “well, i’m pretty sure you aren’t gonna be stepping on naomi’s toes, if that’s what you’re worried about.” fair to say that shipped has crashed, burned, and left no survivors. “do you think she’s vibing you?” odds are yes, he’s not sure it’s possible for charlene to not vibe with somebody.

evelyn mendoza.

she shakes her head, not quite in the mood to joke around like that with him, but he's not wrong. "naomi's toes aren't even in the realm of my worries," she frowns, at the memory of how little of a chance naomi had given what seemed to be the sweetest girl there. she isn't even the least concerned about her. "well, she said she has other options too, so i just don't wanna like, put her out or anything." she still has no idea what to do, frankly.

angel reid

“she did?” that makes him laugh a little, vaguely surprised that char would be playing it so cool, hardly seems her style. he can’t even imagine who the other options could possibly be. angel shrugs. “well, i really doubt she’d be feeling put out if you chose her. i mean, you gotta choose somebody, right? should be someone you actually like.” that’s pretty much what he’d meant when he’d advised her not to worry about stepping on toes, he’d kinda technically stepped on charlene’s himself. “have you pulled miles for a chat yet?”

evelyn mendoza.

his surprise makes her eyebrows knit together, a little confused. does she not have other options? why was he surprised, aren't they friends? "why do you keep saying things like that?" as if she'd pick someone for another reason, as if there's more strategy than that in her. "'somebody i actually like.' like...what, do people pick someone they don't like?" ignoring the question about miles in favor of getting an answer because, frankly, she's not sure she wants to put herself in the middle of something again.

angel reid

brows tick up, the antithesis of her as ever. “liiike, keep saying what?” genuinely confused. it’s like all his words are being catalogued and then apparently twisted into something ill intentioned. her clarification doesn’t exactly do what it was presumably intended. “uh, i guess i dunno what people do. i was just trying to hype you, dude. like, just saying you should pick her if you like her. i totally doubt she wouldn’t be into it.” a tentative shrug, like he’s not sure if that was also the wrong thing to say as far as she’s concerned. “that’s all.”

evelyn mendoza.

"you're, like, really unintentional with your language." it's an observation, more than an accusation, but it's not free of judgment as she watches his face twist with confusion at her question. but, seriously, what's she supposed to think? it practically sounds like he's implying she has ulterior motives, but if she were, she'd definitely be picking someone in a stronger couple.

angel reid

“— what?” he’s full blown shocked now. maybe he misspoke before - and profusely, genuinely apologized - but now he thinks he’s just taking punishment for no real reason. maybe she’s on the defensive with him or maybe she’s purposely twisting his words. either way, angel’s not polite enough to take character assassination lying down. “uh, no, i’m not,” he tells her point blank, shrugging. now he’s the offended one, brows knit as he stands, his path obviously toward the door. “it feels like you’re taking everything i say in the worst way possible. i guess you don’t know me that well.” maybe if they’d been able to get to know each other in the chill, friendly way he’d wanted to, it wouldn’t be like that. “i’m literally trying to be friendly here, but obviously that’s not gonna work, so i’m gonna leave ya to it, ‘kay? i’ll just — see you out there.”

evelyn mendoza.

"angel, i've known you for quite literally half a day. i don't know you," she points out, shoving herself up to leave, the frustration bubbling back up under her skin. she's sure as hell not going to be left on the terrace alone for the fucking cameras to show her looking upset or whatever. "all i've done is say i want to get to know you and tried to tell you that being so closed off so soon after one of you got off an intense break up might be a bad idea. i don't understand how you think i'm taking everything you say badly when i was trying to take it at face value — no, you stay, it's fine — and then when i did that, i misunderstood you." she gestures to the terrace as she speaks, he was here first after all. and frankly, she'd like to be alone for a bit, far away from him. "which, fuckin' fine, you apologized, i'm over it, but now that i'm trying to figure out what you are saying and make sure i'm not missing any, like, subtle cues or whatever that i clearly did before, i'm trying to take it in the worst way? that's bullshit." she tugs at the door handle to leave, maybe go find charlene to talk to about the recoupling instead of the dude trying to confuse her more, figure out what's going on there. she waves a hand up, not bothering to look at him. "we can catch up later, clearly you need space."

kangaroach stan (jia)

please end this

Love Island

keep going

angel reid

“you’re being so—,” he doesn’t even have the words. would probably be told they were wrong anyway. wait, no, he has the word, “difficult. like, what subtle cues could you be missing in me telling you you should go for her if you like her?” his hand’s planted high against the door, doesn’t budge when she tries to beat him to the punch and escape from this absolute mess. it seems insane that she’s gonna dump all this at his feet and say adios. the whole thing’s rife with miscommunication and it’s bothering the hell out of him. “i’m trying not to be closed off, like, i’m out here taking L’s left and right just so we can still talk and be friends, but, jesus, every fucking thing i say is some, like, personal attack to you and i don’t know why. that’s bullshit.” he’s looking down at her with his mouth in a terse line, a wrinkle in the middle of his brow. the door is still effectively blocked off, he needs a second longer to think before he can let it end already. “if you and me aren’t good, just say that. but don’t make it out like i’m some careless asshole ‘cause i’m not.”

evelyn mendoza.

"i'm being difficult?" a shaky laugh escapes her at that and she tugs harder against the door, though without luck with him holding it shut well above her head. her eyes flicker to his hand to gauge whether she could actually reach him or not to pull at it. "i'm the one being difficult? you're the one literally holding a door shut here." her finger jabs towards his chest instead, before gesturing to his hand. the way he phrases it, it's hard not to take offense, taking L's, as if she's a loss. "and i'm not trying to take this shit as an attack. it's just kinda fuckin' hard to take it seriously when you say things like you're not closed off again, when you said you were this morning, and you weren't yesterday," her finger jabs towards his chest, before gesturing to his hand. staring up at him for a moment, quiet, before finally she takes a breath like she knows she should have a few minutes ago, then another, a hand running over her face. "sorry. i'm sorry. we're fine. i don't think you're a careless asshole." completely, at least. she's hit with a wave of embarrassment again, over fighting with him again when she doesn't even want to fight, and she's pretty sure she's actually picked it this time. "i wouldn't have picked you yesterday if i did. i just — sorry. just let me leave you be."

angel reid

“evie, you’re completely overthinking it,” he tells her, uncharacteristically short. angel can’t help it now, frustrated in a way he hasn’t been at all since stepping foot in the villa. it’s already reached it’s crescendo though, the fire in him flickering down on cue when she starts apologizing. he can unclench a bit, huffing out an only mildly perturbed breath. at least they have some common ground now. “— thanks,” he says a bit glib, like it’s the least she could do, but it is appreciated. it could be claimed that this whole thing was a net zero, or maybe even that they both lost, but the optimism in angel says there’s nothing more bonding than getting into a squabble with somebody. “fine,” he decides after a prolonged beat, sliding his hand down the door to push her hand off the knob so he can grab it instead, finally wrenching it open so she can walk through it. he’ll just stay up here for a few more minutes and try to find his inner zen. “we’ll catch up later.”

evelyn mendoza.

words mean things, she wants to shoot back. she gets the feeling callie wouldn’t like that he said it like that, closed off, if she knew anything about the show, which he clearly didn’t. his shortness has her wanting to poke back, uncharacteristically. she forces herself to take another breather, even as he’s pushed her hand off the door knob to yank it open for her, her eyes rolling at the show. “you just had to do that,” she grumbles, stepping through it with a glance over her shoulder. “i am sorry, though. mean it.” before she shrugs and heads off to find charlene or adela.

[theeglitch]

girlsngossip​:

tiffany hadn’t expected to get so angry, and perhaps as much as she disguised her hatred for vanellope in her being a danger, more of it stemmed from the various was she was a threat. vanellope was nice, and when her glitch wasn’t interfering, she was a damn good racer. despite how cruel tiffany had been to her, vanellope went out of her way to try and be included and befriend all of the other racers… and tiffany hated it. she was better than tiffany in so many ways, and the blonde absolutely refused to admit that she had flaws and insecurities. tiffany knew in her heart that if she had let van in, they could have been friends, but the blonde believed it was too late to patch any sort of holes she had put in whatever potential friendship could have existed between the two of them. it was long beyond repair, and what hurt more is tiffany knew vanellope would be willing to put in the work to fix it. it was HERSELF who refused.

❛ — you can’t disagree with me, you know i’m right, ❜ tiffany spat, her words hot and pointed, the hair on her arms standing up as her chest began to clench, ribcage tightening around stubborn lungs and a heavy thumping heart. it was van beginning to glitch that brought her back down to earth momentarily, a feeling of panic masking itself within her harden features as tiffany watched it happen; a bit helpless, desperate to stand her ground and not to fold. defensively, tiff kept talking, voice raising to overpower that of the sound barrier combating with the sound of vanellope’s very existence moving in and out of the tangible world. ❛ i’m holding you accountable,❜ tiffany said pointedly, taking a wary step back; ❛ — just because you can’t hurt people now, it doesn’t mean shit !! you didn’t care then, you don’t care now, and i bet if someone gave you the opportunity to get on the track you’d take it. you’re SELFISH. ❜ the word was cruel, it was hot in her throat, and it broke at the end as tiffany’s own fear overpowered the strength she was attempting to front because she didn’t know who the insult was directed towards; vanellope … or herself. ❛ you’re still HURTING because of what you did to other people. those are called consequences, vanellope. look it the FUCK up. ❜

-

tiffany’s words were cruel. they were cruel and vanellope knew deep down she probably didn’t deserve it as much as it felt like she did in the moment. that didn’t make anything hurt less. it was like every time she felt like she was growing a thicker skin, tiffany was right there to knock her down hard enough to have her rebuilding all over again. she couldn’t stand that one person held so much power over her. she couldn’t stand that no matter how much she tried to ignore it all to not let her get under her skin she still did and it made her glitching worse and now she wasn’t even behind the counter anymore. she was near the door, she was in a chair, she was bouncing all over the place while she tried to calm herself down enough to end this conversation. 

“y-y-you could h-have j-j-just talked to m-me..” she managed to get out, hands tugging at her hair in a lame attempt to keep herself in one place. “i-i-i would h-have l-listened to w-w-what you h-h-ad to say...” she really would have. because no matter how much tiffany was a jerk to her when she was racing, she still had hoped for something to come out of it in the end. a friendship? she was stupid to ever think that was possible now. she was stupid to think that she was doing anything right. she wouldn’t have thought about the dangers if she could race again, but after this conversation it was the only thing she was ever going to be thinking about now. there was no going back in her mind now. she was miserable, she wanted to do anything but exist most of the time, but now tiffany has amped those feelings and new ones to the highest degree. if she even made it home without glitching so hard she disappeared into oblivion than she would be lucky. “y-y-you n-n-need to l-l-leave...” she said, eyes going towards the blonde through her episode. “g-g-get o-o-out!”

[imaginingmanyfandoms]

Paul's Lullaby | part one

| next>

"Sam?" Paul was, he was in pain. He respect Sam and Emily's privacy, but he needed to talk to Sam now.

Paul wasn't angry, he was in pain. He felt like the world had opened up and swallowed him whole. He ruined his own life, and he didn't know where else to turn.

"Paul?" Sam asked, opening the door. Emily was behind him, face covered in concern.

"I imprinted tonight," Paul said, "but she hates me. She really, really hates me."

"I'm sure it's nothing you can't fix," Sam said, ushering Emily to come closer.

"Sam, I'm not exaggerating, she told me that she hates me. In fact, she should hate me." Paul looked at his feet, but only to try and hide the distress on his face. "If anyone treated her that way I used to, I'd rip them apart."

"Paul," Emily said, reaching out. Paul flinched back.

"I don't deserve your sympathy. I just, I don't know what to do."

"Be patient. Maybe you just have to prove you're a different man now," Emily offered a sad smile, but it was the exact thing Paul didn't want. He shouldn't pitied, he didn't deserve it. He could feel his heart bruise and falter. He broke his own heart and has no clue on how to fix it.

Emily had to go back to sleep, but Sam sat up with Paul for a while longer.

When Paul finally left, it was almost two in the morning. He took off running through the woods, shifting when he knew he was hidden by the tree line. He tried to outrun the heartbreak, but obviously it didn't work.

You were sitting at your desk, staring at your computer. You wanted to work on your writing, but you were so angry at the audacity that Paul had.

You had done everything you could to avoid him the last couple years - and you managed to make it to the first day of summer after graduation. You'd run into him on the beach.

He was just such a jerk, acting like his words had no effect on anyone. Like he could just laugh behind your back and it wouldn't hurt.

But he used to tell people nasty rumours about you. Until nobody really wanted you around them. And then he had to take it that much farther, when you were both fifteen, he took you on a date, acted like he'd changed and grown. And right before he kissed you he said, "I know you fall for it."

That date alone triggered years of trust issues. You'd felt alone ever since.

Back to the beach, he was blocking the trail you needed to head down to get to work on time. You'd hoped that putting your head down and just trying to slide passed would work, but he recognized you. He tried talking to you, but you ignored him.

After taking a couple steps down the path he said, "don't be like that."

This made you look up, astounded that he would even say something like that. Until you finally looked into his eyes, and you recognized how beautiful he was. He also looked stunned, like he'd run into a glass door. He reached out to you, but recoiled, dodging his touch like he was on fire. Somehow, you'd felt even lonelier than ever.

One look at his face and you felt like you were missing something. You tried to keep your cool but you just couldn't. Tears brimmed at your eyes, and his friend Jared Cameron coughed, before walking to the water just to give you two some space.

"Y/N," he said, his voice low and hesitant. Making you panic, thinking he was toying with you again.

"Stay away from me," you warned, taking a defensive step back.

That hit Paul harder in the heart than you would ever know. His soulmate, his imprint, recoiling away from him defensively. He found the person he was supposed to protect, to be needed by, and you couldn't stand the sight of him.

"Just wait a second," he begged, not moving towards you again. He didn't want to scare you.

"I hate you," you whispered, and then louder said it again. And louder again. Until you had screamed it, and the tears had taken over your cheeks. Every time you said it was an arrow to Paul's heart. He nodded, and let you turn around to run off without another word.

You didn't notice him run into the woods, followed by his friend.

You called work saying you had a personal emergency, and then went back home for the night.

Back in the present, you were tearing up at the memory of it. You were sick, you think. Addicted to red flag behaviour because there was no way you were thinking of Paul's hurt face, and feeling bad for causing it. He should feel bad for all the pain he caused.

You looked at the clock, it was almost three in the morning, but you were too caught up in all your feelings to send yourself to bed. You walked to the window, and noticed some kind of animal by the tree line. You lived in the middle of the woods, in an old cabin your grandma used to live in. You moved in when she got sick but never moved out. You liked it. It was cozy. It was private.

Finally relenting, you crawl into bed and did your best to sleep.

The next day, you were walking along the same path on the beach. You offered to cover the shift of the girl who had covered yours at such last minute.

Paul was in the same spot, but alone this time. You tried to walk passed him without acknowledging him, but something stopped you. You didn't want to see him sad again, it hurt you. And it made no sense why, you'd spent two years hating him.

You were only a few steps passed him, so you turned around, gripping the end of your sweater sleeves in each hand.

Paul had his head down, but looked up when he heard you sigh. You were standing in front of him, looking so terrified to speak to him. Paul could've started crying.

"I'm sorry about yelling at you like that yesterday," you said. "I should've just walked away so... sorry."

"Don't be sorry," he said, a flash of excitement crossed his eyes, and you mistook it for something sinister. You tried to remain calm, but you were feeling lightheaded. You just couldn't trust his motives. "I deserved it."

Now that, threw you for a bit of a loop.

Fool me once, you thought.

"I still think we should just keep our distance," you said. "You kind of broke my heart."

"I'm really sorry about that, I was trying to impress the seniors. I was a tool. An idiot."

"Finally we agree on something," you said. He looked at you, and you both let out a small smile. He pushed some sand with his foot. His bashfulness made you want to believe him. "I work just up the hill. You can walk me if you want."

"Can I walk you home when you're done?" he asked, quickly falling in perfect tandem with you.

"No," you said. "But you can walk with me right now."

"I'll take it," he said.

"Why do you want to talk to me anyway? I thought you hated me," you said.

"I could never hate you," he said. "I do hate how I treated you though. Not my finest hour."

"I think your finest hour remains to be seen."

Paul stayed quiet after that. And you were oddly comfortable in the silence. You're not even sure why you invited him to come along, but some sick part of you wanted him to. You wanted to reach out and touch him. His arms just looked so welcoming, and the way he stretched his hand open and shut made you think he wanted the same thing. But you couldn't let him in, not after one day.

"Have a good shift," he said, putting his hands in his pocket.

You smiled at him ,and thanked him for walking you. When you smiled, he smiled. And you caught onto that.

Paul had been standing in the same spot every day to walk you to work. Out of curiosity, on one of your days off, you snuck close to the spot to see if he was there. And he was, leaning against the same railing, in the same spot that he waited for you everyday.

You got comfortable in a cozy little spot in the trees. You wanted to see how long he waited for you. You dozed off before you could get your question answered.

You woke up hours later, when the sun was already setting. You hated walking through the trees in the dark. You started walking on your own, but you had a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. So you swallowed your pride and called someone you knew would answer.

Paul was sitting at Sam and Emily's table, enjoying the dinner she made while waiting for his turn to go on patrol. It was Jared and Quil out there now. Paul could hear Seth snoring on the couch, making him laugh. Things that used to annoy him, didn't really seem to annoy him anymore. Not since you started letting him walk you to work. He even got Sam to let him change his patrol times to make sure he could be there every day.

His phone rang, and with a mouthful of food checked the number. He almost chocked on his food when he saw your number. He answered, hitting his chest to dislodge the food.

"Y/N, hi," he said, big grin on his face as he stood up and walked outside. Behind his back, Emily and Sam shared a knowing look, and he leaned in to kiss his wife.

Paul noticed Jared sitting nearby with Kim, and didn't think too much of it with you on the line.

"This may sound stupid," you said, "but can you walk me home? I don't like to go in the dark."

"You never let me walk you home," he said.

"If this is a bad time, it's okay," you said, disappointment clear in your voice.

"No, no... where are you? I'll be right there." He stepped back inside the house to grab his shoes, but the sound of you gasping stalled his movements.

"I'm by our meeting spot," you said. His grin returned when you called it that. "It's so dumb, I wanted to see if you went there when I didn't work and fell asleep."

"You were spying on me?" he asked. You were silent on the other end and he laughed. "I'll be right there."

"Who are you?" you asked.

"Huh?"

He heard you scream, as did Sam and Emily who's cheeky glances turned to concern quickly. "Y/N?" he asked, panicked. He was already running outside, Sam on his heals.

"Jared!" Sam shouted, "Why aren't you on patrol?"

"Seth said he'd do it!" Jared yelled back. Paul dropped his phone, and shifted, running top speeds to where you said you were.

Never in his whole life had he been this scared. He could hear Jared apologizing for the mixup in his thoughts, but Paul didn't really care what he had to say. If you were hurt, Paul would die. Paul would simply die.

He needed you to be there safe.

I knew something was wrong, Embry thought. Paul didn't even see him show up. Sorry I didn't act on it.

Shut the shit up and run, dammit!

When he got to the meeting point, you were gone, but your bag was abandoned nearby. Paul sniffed it, getting your current scent memorized. He took off when he found the trail. He also smelled a retched, filthy bloodsucker. It wasn't one of the Cullens. No, this was different. And it started at the water, that's how it got passed their lines. Not that they had enough people around.

Paul howled, the pain in it was evident for anyone around. It was him saying get here, or suffer the consequences.

I don't smell their blood, Jared thought.

You don't get to talk about them. This anger didn't derive from a bad temper, it was fear. It was just fear talking.

Paul kept running, catching a fork in the scent trails. One way was Quil, Leah and the bloodsucker. And the other was you, all alone. Alone but alive. If he couldn't hear Leah or Quil think, that was a good sign. Meant that they'd changed back, and Leah would never do that unless she killed them.

Go to her, we'll find Leah. Sam nodded at Paul.

You were crying as you ran, clumsy feet stumbling over tree roots and your own blurred vision totally betrayed you. Someone had come out of the water, eyes red like rubies. And they were so pretty that you just had to look at her. Until the showed her teeth, forcing you to flee in fear. She was faster than you, but you think she was playing with you.

And then if that wasn't scary enough, when she was jumping down from a tree to kill you, a wolf jumped from the shadows and grabbed the woman. And it was her turn to flee. Another wolf jumped out, and you were sure you were a goner.

But it just chased after the other two. Leaving you alone and confused.

You stumbled back to your feet, running as fast as you could towards your cabin. You would be safe in there. Maybe. It was the best you could do right now.

You cried harder when you thought you heard more rustling in the trees. You were at your door, struggling to get your keys out and unlock the door. When you did, you slammed it shut and locked it behind you. You dove over the sofa and kept your eyes on the door, as if that's all it took to keep you safe.

Your phone was lost somewhere in the woods, but you could still hear them. Out there. Maybe it wasn't real.

There was a feverish knocking on your door, and you couldn't peel yourself away from the couch.

"Y/N! Are you in there," Paul shouted. Oh my God, thank everything, it's Paul.

"Paul, I'm coming," you struggled, fighting through your tears to answer. It killed him, but he was so happy you were okay.

You opened the door, and cried even harder when you saw his face. You couldn't hate him now, now when he came running for you. He ignored his usual boundaries and pulled you in for a hug. He was so warm wrapped around you. Your arms were still tucked into your chest. And his totally encompassed you.

"Just breath, honey," he said, rubbing his hand up and down your back. You tried to take his advice, but you couldn't focus.

"You came for me."

"I always will, you can always call me. I will always come running," he said. And you believed him.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" you asked, pushing yourself away from him enough to look up at his face. His features were uncharacteristically soft as they looked down at you.

"Of course," he said. He kissed your forehead, and you felt the instinct of pushing him away - but you ignored it this time.

"On the couch," you said.

"Sure, honey." He brushed his hands up and down your biceps, helping you take a few deep breaths. "I'm not going anywhere, don't worry."

"I don't understand what happened," you said, pushing yourself away from him. "She came out of the water, and then she..."

"It's okay," he cooed, "you don't have to say anything."

"And this doesn't change anything," you said. "I trust you with some things but not other things."

"Some things?" he asked, more amused than anything.

"I trust you with my life, not my heart."

"We'll work on it," he said, pulling you in close for another hug.

"Yeah," you agreed. "We'll work on it."

[requested] [part 2?]

I kind of love this?

[the-badger-mole]

Congratulations! You have now been teleported into the world of Avatar The Last Airbender, what advice do you give each of the characters?

OOOO! I love this! I have so much advice to give so many characters! Okay, let's see...

Katara: It's okay to be vulnerable. It's okay to be the one who gets taken care of every once in a while. Your strength is undeniable, but you can't shoulder everyone's load. It's not fair to ask of yourself. Surround yourself with people who give you the space and freedom to be vulnerable, even if in the middle of it, it gets a bit ugly. You deserve support and love and understanding even at your lowest points.

Now that the war is over, take a step back and ask what do you want? Forget what's expected of you, or what ahem someone else may want. This is your time to forge your own path. Your friends- your true friends- want to see you grow and be happy and do amazing things. If along the way you disappoint someone's expectations, that's fine. They will either get over it or get out of your way. You're bound for incredible things. Don't dim your shine to make someone else look brighter.

Zuko: I really can't do much better than Iroh, except to say this- you are not your forefathers. Whatever evils they committed may color how people see you at first, but they don't define you. You're not destined to make the choices they made. You are far kinder, stronger, braver, and more compassionate than any of them. That has nothing to do with one side of your bloodline winning out over the other, and you don't have to worry that someday something will shift in you and turn you into Ozai or Sozin or Azulon. The fact that you're even worried about it means that you won't make the same choices they made. Now, you may not be the perfect Fire Lord, but it's not fair to expect yourself to be. War is messy. Recovery from war is equally messy. You won't undo 100 years and 3 generations' worth of damage in your lifetime. Focus on giving the next generation a solid foundation to build on and you will have been more successful than any of them.

Keep yourself open to receiving constructive criticism, but also make sure that you're keeping yourself open to receiving love and support. The people who love you will not go out of their way to make you feel bad about yourself. They will not make you feel they aren't safe to confide in. Love will help you to see the best in yourself and be there for you to lean on when things get tough. It will not threaten or berate you. It will not betray you or insult you for expressing doubt or fear. Don't accept less than you deserve.

Toph: You're amazing! You're smart and talented, and when you allow yourself to be, you're a darn good friend. I know it's hard to not bring past trauma into new relationships, but you don't need to be on the defensive all the time. You have done a good job surrounding yourself with people who love and fear you. Keep letting them in- especially if they happen to be offering the nurturing care you missed from your family of origin. It's okay to give people a second chance after they've hurt you, and it's also okay to set firm boundaries with them.

I cannot stress this part enough- DO NOT BECOME A COP! You are way too talented to waste your time and energy using your bending against the poor and downtrodden to protect the property of the rich. If you really want to be involved in the field of law, consider becoming a defense attorney. You can stick it to the rich jerks and save people who have no power themselves. That's just a suggestion, but there are literally thousands of other much more worthwhile things you could do with your time.

Sokka: You've done a lot of growing and self-work in a very short amount of time. Kudos! We love a king who can admit when he's wrong and learn a valuable lesson about being sexist. Now take that same energy and apply it to your sister. Acknowledge all she's done for you over the years (to her face, and preferably with a nice gift), and then do your share! You are too old to have your little sister have sole responsibility of keeping you fed and your clothes right. You know that's not going to fly when you marry Suki, so practice sharing the load with Katara.

Aside from that, you're a bright, charming, occasionally funny young man. You're going to go far, kid.

Suki: I don't have much to say to you. I don't know you that well, but what I do know of you, I like. You're a strong, capable young woman who understands that you don't have to be all warrior or all woman. That's amazing honey! There are older women than you trying to figure out how to balance the different sides of themselves, and you've started to figure it out before you've even finished being a teenager. Keep it up! Don't ever let anyone make you doubt yourself.

It's amazing that you were able to help Sokka see the error of his sexist ways, and I hope you continue to call him out when you see him doing something stupid. However, it's also important to remember that his growth is not your responsibility. You can offer advice and point out blind spots, but his growth is his responsibility.

Aang: IF IT'S NOT A YES, THEN IT'S A NO!!!!!!

No one owes you a relationship. You do not get to violate anyone's personal space. If you are interested in someone, talk to them about it. If they aren't interested (whether it's a no, or an I'm not sure), BACK. OFF!! That's not an invitation to pester them. That's not a challenge for you to change their mind. Leave them alone! If they change their mind, they can tell you. If you ever approach anyone disrespectfully again, I will arm them with pepper spray.

Your point of view isn't the only one that matters. You have been given a huge load to bear at much too young of an age, and there's a lot of pressure on you. It's okay to be overwhelmed, but in the end, you need to be willing to share your burden with the people who love and support you. Listen to the advice of wiser people. They may not be able to understand the unique challenges of being the Avatar, but they have far more life experience and understanding of the world's complexities than you have. Your own wisdom is based on concepts you only have a 12-year-old's understanding of. Work on continuing to grow in your understanding and be humble. Other cultures have worth, too.

Hakoda: Look, I get it. You're doing your best. It's not your fault that you missed so much of your kids' growing up, but they need you. Take them home for a while. Put in the time to get to know them again. Now is not the time to jump right into a serious relationship. Especially not with a woman that is trying to open up your home to a soft invasion of the Northern Tribe. Give yourself time to breathe, grieve and take account of what you and your family and your tribe need. You are a father and a chief. There are responsibilities in both those roles that need your attention. That's not to say you can't date at all, just be wise and remember that it's not just you that will be affected by your choice.

Iroh: Listen... you have done a great job with Zuko. You provided as stable and loving an environment for him as was possible, and in no small part thanks to your influence, he's a kind, compassionate, selfless young man. He's exactly what the Fire Nation needs, but you dropped the ball, Iroh. I get it. It's been a long life and you've put in a lot of work, but with all due respect, you're not freakin done! IF YOU DON'T TURN YOUR BEHIND AROUND AND GET BACK TO THE FIRE NATION, I WILL KICK YOUR TEA SODDEN BEHIND FROM STREET TO STREET! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU???

Zuko is 16. He's just been given this huge responsibility that he has never been prepared for, surrounded by people he can't trust, and you are the only consistent guiding presence in his life. Why would you leave him? What were you smoking when you made that decision? What on earth makes you think Ba Sing Se wants you back, Dragon of the West? I know you've done a lot to make amends for what you did, but what you did was lay siege to that city, and it's insane that you think they'd want to buy tea from you now that they know who you are. If it means that much to you, open up a tea shop in Caldera. Just make sure you're close enough to Zuko to help him navigate his new role, you befuddled meatball!

Ty Lee: Girl...go back to the circus. The Kyoshi Warriors is not for you, and you deserve a clean break from everyone back in Caldera. Go live your best, sparkliest life, queen.

[hrtiu]

i couldn’t find anything written for these two online so i thought i’d give it a shot! this is katy x shang-chi. what should their ship name be? i vote for shaunty. continue if you love friends-to-lovers 🥰

For Katy, the weirdest part about coming home after nearly dying and saving the world from a soul-sucking monster was realizing that she needed to find a new job.

“You could always apply to be an archery instructor at that place in Golden Gate Park,” Shaun said, looking over her shoulder at her laptop.

“Yeah, I don’t think my three days of experience will look very good on the resume,” Katy said, balancing the laptop on her thighs as she sat cross-legged on his bed.

“You could always put, ‘fired the shot that saved the universe,’” Shaun said. He leaned just a little too far into Katy’s space for comfort. “What should matter are results, right?”

“Ha ha,” Katy said, her throat suddenly dry. She didn’t bother to tell him she’d already inquired with the place and they weren’t hiring.

It had been like this since they’d gotten back from Ta Lo. Just… a little off. How was she supposed to act around her friend after going through an experience like this? How was she supposed to act after discovering a whole new side to someone she’d thought she knew so well? How was she supposed to breathe around Shaun now that she knew what he looked like with his shirt off?

Katy caught Shaun’s eye in the mirror of her laptop screen and swallowed, slamming the laptop shut before she or it combusted. It was all getting to be a bit much.

“Is everything alright?” Shaun asked from somewhere behind her.

Katy nodded, Shaun’s garage studio suddenly stifling despite the constant San Francisco temperature of 60 degrees outside. “Yeah, I’m just… I think I’ll maybe look again tomorrow.”

Shaun moved around the back of his bed and sat next to Katy, his thigh touching her knee. “Come on, Katy. What’s up? It couldn’t possibly be any weirder than the stuff I’ve told you recently.”

“Plenty of room at the Hotel California…” Katy started humming, her hand tapping against her leg in time to the music.

Shaun grabbed her hand and tugged, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Come on, you know that only works on idiots.”

“Well then it should have worked on you.”

Shaun frowned, then rested his other hand on top of the one he was already holding, his thumb sliding soothingly back and forth across her skin. “Seriously, Katy. Are you alright?”

Katy bit her lip and looked down at their connected hands. “It’s this!” she burst out, jerking her chin towards their hands. “Since when did we do this?”

Shaun let go of her hand and scooted away immediately, leaving a good foot of distance between them on the bed. Hurt lit his eyes. “Maybe since we almost died together?” he said defensively. “But you could have just told me you were uncomfortable. I won’t do it again.”

“No, wait. Shaun!” Katy fumbled over her words. “It’s not uncomfortable, really. Or well, it is, but it’s not a bad kind of uncomfortable. It’s just weird because I’ve never felt awkward around you before. But now I do and I don’t know what to do about it or what’s changed or even if you’ve noticed it or not.”

“You feel awkward around me?”

“Yeah! And you seem totally fine which is… great for me,” Katy said, her neck heating. This sucked. She hoped she’d be able to get over this soon so she could go back to singing karaoke late into the night without worrying if she was going to make a pass at him when she was drunk.

“I’m fine because it’s you!” he said. “I’ve known you for forever! What am I doing that’s making you uncomfortable, because I can stop.”

Katy cast a sidelong glance at him, her eyes tracing up the exquisitely-defined muscles of his forearms. I wonder if I could get him to take his shirt off again, she thought longingly. “You could eat a few Ho Hos with a side of pizza, I guess.”

His forehead crinkled in confusion, which drew attention to his eyes, which then led her down to his lips. Ok, maybe there was no leading going on, and Katy had just decided to look there herself.

“Look, normally I’m pretty good at interpreting Katy,” Shaun said, “But I think I might need a little help today.”

I could help you out of your clothes. Woah. That thought had better not come out of her mouth.

Katy jumped to her feet and turned from Shaun, her eyes struggling to find something else to focus on—anything else. “It’s fine, alright. I’m just being weird because I realized you’re hot and now it’s hard to stop thinking about it.”

“Woah! I’m hot?”

“Shut up, you know you are.” Katy moved over to the garage door and turned back to him, confident she could face him with some distance between them.

“No, I don’t! You used to call me shrimp cracker back in high school!”

“Yeah, well, all those shrimp decided to start swimming in the formation of an eight-pack on your torso, so…”

Shaun walked over to her, a grin spreading across his face. “All those times you made fun of me in gym class, and look at you now.”

He was getting too close, and Katy backed along the garage door away from him. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”

“Hey, I think I deserve to bask a little in your admiration,” Shaun said, still advancing on her with a smirk she knew was just teasing.

“Shut up, Shaun,” she said, taking one more step behind her.

Her foot caught on the backpack she’d tossed carelessly by the door, and just like that she was going down. Then Shaun grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, just barely managing to keep her from dropping like a bag of rice.

One of his hands gripped her wrist while the other wrapped around her waist, holding her flush against him. Her nose was only an inch or two from his, and she could see her own reflection in his eyes. She stopped breathing.

Shaun’s eyes widened, and his fingers twitched nervously at her waist. “Oh,” he said, voice quiet and surprised. “Yeah, this is weird.”

Katy’s heart dropped into her stomach, and it was only at that moment that she realized how far gone she already was. Well, that was that.

She dropped her eyes, but there was nowhere to look but him, so she fixed her gaze on the zipper of the coat he always wore.  There was a stain right around the hem. He should probably get a new coat now that he was important and all.

The hand holding her wrist dropped, and suddenly his warm palm was pressed against her cheek, lifting her head up. She looked back into his eyes and found a familiar warmth there. It was unquestioning friendship and loyalty. It was love.

“It’s a good thing I like weird,” he said. Then he leaned in and kissed her.

Katy wrapped her arms around him, pulling him harder against her and finally—finally—getting to feel those muscles. When she’d privately fantasized about this moment over the past few days, she’d always worried it might feel strange or wrong—like kissing her brother. But it turned out she’d worried for nothing. Shaun’s hands on her hips felt right, and his lips moved against her mouth in a way that made her knees week. No, this was definitely not like kissing her hot, super hero brother.

After a few minutes Shaun pulled away, his expression dazed but smiling. “Ok, I take it back,” he said. “Not weird at all.”

Katy smirked up at him. “I guess I wasn’t trying hard enough.” Her phone chimed her text alert and she jumped, nearly forgetting it was in her back pocket. “Oh, damn, I forgot I told mom I’d be home to help her restock.”

“I can come with,” Shaun said, his hand moving experimentally up and down her waist.

“Sure.” A thought occurred to Katy and she stopped typing mid-text to her mom. She looked up at Shaun, her eyes wide. “Shaun. Waipo is going to be so psyched.”

[drabbles-of-writing]

You’ll Be Okay

AO3

fourth owl fight attack! This one’s prompt was “Hunter and Luz being siblings” and I went a whole Direction with it

Summary: The Emperor was defeated. Amongst the ruins of a half-destroyed castle, Luz finds Hunter. While waiting for the others to find them, Hunter's shields finally fall apart. After all, at the end of the day, he was just a kid.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Luz found Hunter in the wreckage of the Emperor’s Castle, using his staff (the one that had Rascal perched atop, not the other, artificial staff. That one had been snapped in two) to support himself, his other hand clutching his side.

“There you are!” She breathed, rushing forward.

Hunter flinched at the noise and whirled around, lifting his staff to aim it before falling over at the lack of support. He hissed and curled up on the ground, eyes squeezed shut.

Luz faltered for a moment before continuing towards him, albeit much slower and cautiously now.

“Hunter?” She called, crouched down low.

He cracked open a wild, unfocused eye. It took a moment till it landed on her, and a few more until she could start to see him process who she was.

“Hey,” He croaked, slowly raising his head. “I was beginning to think I’d gotten rid of you for good.” He chuckled, before he was wracked with coughs and curled back in on himself.

“Oh please, you’ll have to try way harder than that.” Luz huffed, though the forced teasing in her tone didn’t work much. “Are you…okay?”

“Take a wild guess,” Hunter muttered, bracing one hand on the ground as the other stayed wrapped around his side.

And yeah, in hindsight, he really wasn’t. His white cloak was ratty and torn all over, the piece of under armor he often used barely hanging on by one strap. He was covered in gashes, bruises, grime, and who-knows-what. His breathing was ragged and raspy, and she figured that, yeah, when one is used as a living portal-booster they aren’t going to come out of it okay.

“Alright, fair, bad question.” Luz admitted, inching closer and placing a hand on his leg. “You need any help?”

“If I say no,” Hunter wheezed, eyeing her hand for a moment. “You’ll help me anyway.”

“Yeah,” Luz shrugged. “But it’s polite to ask.”

“Never stopped you before,” He rasped with the faintest of smiles, slowly leaning back until he was flat on the ground, staring up at the sky.

“Need a minute?” Luz asked, scooting until she was sitting right beside him.

“Or three,” Hunter agreed, shutting his eyes. “Everything kinda hurts.”

“Then rest, someone will find us eventually.” Luz assured. “I…may have run off to find you when I realized you weren’t with the others.” She admitted sheepishly, rubbing her neck.

“If they accuse me of kidnapping, I’ll break your shins.” Hunter threatened, though his tone never changed, and his eyes stayed shut.

“Understood,” Luz smiled, watching as Rascal transformed back into his usual self, chirping as he settled himself on Hunter’s stomach.

And the two remained silent for what felt like hours, though Luz was willing to bet it had been no more than ten minutes. She just looked out at the rubble around them, aching all over as a light wind breezed by. Had she not seen Hunter’s ear flicking periodically with the wind tickling it, she probably would’ve thought he’d died then. His breathing barely even disturbed Rascal, which she had to wonder if he was doing on purpose or not.

“When are you leaving?”

Luz blinked, turning her head down, finding Hunter had cracked open a single eye and was peering up at her.

“Huh?”

“The portal, you went through all this trouble to go back to the human realm, right?” He said. “So, when are you leaving?”

“Oh, uh,” Luz swallowed, shoving down the memory of standing before blinding car lights, reaching for a hand she phased right through. “I...I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Hunter repeated, giving her an incredulous look. “You went through all this trouble--”

“Okay, in my defense, this goes a little beyond getting the portal back, there were other reasons.” Luz said, waving her arms to the ruins around them.

“Still,” Hunter braced his arms under him, grunting with the effort as he pushed himself upright, disturbing Rascal. “Last I checked, the portal’s fine. How come you’re not making a beeline for it?”

“Uh, because I need to make sure my friends are okay?” Luz said, like this was the most obvious thing in the world, which, really, it should’ve been. “I’m not gonna leave right away. I need a day or two to make sure everyone's alright and figure out what they’re gonna do now.”

“Go back to normal?” Hunter raised a brow.

“An entire government was just dismantled, Hunter.” Luz deadpanned. “My fantasy books never really got to the part of explaining how they fixed a toppled tyrannical way of ruling, but knowing the Boiling Isles, I doubt this is gonna be easy.”

“Let the people good with politics handle that,” Hunter said casually, slumping back down on the ground and throwing an arm over his face. “They’re not gonna listen to a teenage human and her band of misfits for a new government, anyway.”

“Lilith might be good at figuring that out,” Luz hummed, ignoring him. “She has experience. Raine, too, technically.”

“If you put Lilith in charge, every witch and demon in the Isles will riot in the street.” 

“We’re not putting her in charge,” Luz stressed, appalled at the thought. “Just guiding people. See? This is why I need to stay for a little bit, I gotta know what's gonna happen!”

“Do you actually want to go back, or was this all a game of keepsies?” Hunter muttered.

“Of course I--I’m not arguing with you, you’re wounded.” Luz said stubbornly, crossing her arms.

“I'm not in that bad of shape."

“Really now,” Luz said drawled, reaching out a hand towards his chest before Hunter batted it away.

"You trying to hurt me more?" Hunter grumbled, rolling onto his side and wincing with the movement.

"I don't think you could get any more hurt if you tried." Luz deadpanned.

“I’ve had worse than this.” Hunter wheezed out, Rascal fluttering around him anxiously.

“Worse than a living portal puppet...thing?” Luz lifted a brow disbelievingly.

“...alright, fair,” Hunter sighed, a wheezing, noisy one as he shook his head. “This is probably the worst. New record.”

“I don’t want to know what the old record was.” Luz cringed as Hunter rolled onto his back once more, wincing with the movement. “You think the worst of it came from the portal, or being thrown around like a ragdoll by an eldritch abomination?”

“Portal thing,” Hunter said, eyes shut. “I’m used to…” He trailed off, mouth clicking shut as he refused to finish the sentence.

Used to Belos, Luz reasoned, was likely where he was going with that. She gazed at him sadly, his hands clenched into fists over his stomach now, Rascal nudging at his shoulder.

“He didn’t make it, right?” Hunter asked softly, and she didn’t ask him to clarify who.

“I don’t think so, we didn’t find anything.” Luz answered. “We could go check where we last saw him...if you’d like.”

“...later,” Hunter sighed, raising his hands to press the heels of them up against his eyes, fingers gripping his hair. “I don’t wanna think about it much right now.”

“I’m,” Luz started, fiddling with her sleeve. “I’m sorry, about all this.” She said, because she didn’t know what else she could say.

“No, you’re not.” Hunter scoffed bitterly. “You’re glad it’s over.”

“I am,” Luz agreed. “That doesn’t mean I’m still not sorry.”

“I’m not mad at you, I get it.” Hunter said, agonizingly gently. “I don’t need your pity.”

“I’m not--Dios,” Luz muttered as she ran a hand over her face. “Me olvidé de lo reprimido que estabas. You are my friend,” Luz shoved lightly at his shoulder, and he jerked and raised one hand away to give her an offended look. “And as your friend, should the stars align, I am sorry that this terrible situation happened to you, because I care about your well being.” She said, perhaps a few notches more aggressively than intended.

“...I’m your friend?” Hunter blinked, removing his other hand.

“Yes! Yes, you’re my friend! Are we seriously still on that page?” Luz demanded, almost yanking at her hair. She raised a hand when he opened his mouth to speak. “If you start protesting about all the times you were a jerk to me before you switched sides, I’m going to hit you.”

“...you have a very mean way of expressing concern.” Hunter settled on, voice small.

“Because you,” Luz poked at his forehead and got a growl in return. “Can’t get it through your thick head that other people can care about you. Newsflash, buddy. Eda’s already talking to Hooty about making another room for you.”

“She what--”

“So I’m sorry that the castle is destroyed, and I’m sorry that your uncle is gone, because you cared about him.” Luz continued before he could butt-in. “And about that whole...Grimwalker thing, which is a whole other pile of messed up things, but you get the point.” She waved her hands around. “You...you deserved better.” She finally finished, realizing she’d sat up at one point to face him, and now leaned back on her knees.

Hunter stared at her for a moment, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly. Rascal had crawled his way up and onto his shoulder now, looking between the two of them.

Eventually, the tension left his body, and he lay on his side, cheek pressed into the dirty, rocky ground. Rascal jolted, fluttering up onto his head.

“He was awful,” Hunter mumbled, like he was trying to convince someone.

“I know,” Luz sighed, looking down at him. “But you loved him.” She said, and Hunter didn’t dispute it. 

“...m’sorry,” Hunter got out, which sounded like a shuttering gasp, as though his throat was closing up.

“What for?” Luz tilted her head.

“You want the list?” Hunter managed, his snark falling short as he rapidly blinked his eyes. “I’d ask why you care at all, but you’re Luz.” He said, shaking his head slightly. “You’re too nice for your own good.”

“It worked out this time, didn’t it?” Luz said, offering a tiny smile as she held out a hand, just short of touching him.

He eyed her hand for a moment, then his gaze flicked across her face, searching. He must’ve seen something, because the little resolve he had left broke, and he reached for Luz’s hand and gripped onto it far more forcefully than needed.

She hoisted him upright, and barely had a moment to spare until he was grabbing onto her, hands fisted in the back of her shirt as he pressed his face into her shoulder. She froze for just a moment before she returned the hug, forcing herself not to protest against the tight grip along her back, definitely going to form nasty bruises later.

She saw that the white of his cloak was covered in dirt and blood all across his back, from injuries he must’ve sustained, though most of it looked dried now. She wondered if it hurt for him to lay on his back like that, and avoided disturbing those wounds as he trembled in her arms.

He shook with cries that were barely choked back, and she pressed the side of her face against his head. Rascal warbled sadly and nuzzled into his head from where he was perched in his hair.

Luz murmured words she couldn’t remember for the life of her, rubbing small circles across the uninjured parts of his back. He only pressed closer, clinging desperately like she’d vanish if he didn’t, and Luz had to put in effort to not fall back.

It might’ve been a few minutes, it might’ve been longer, but gradually, Hunter ran out of steam. His strained cries became muffled sniffles, slumping against Luz like dead weight.

“Sorry,” Hunter hiccupped again, voice muffled against her shoulder. “I think I got your cloak dirty.”

“It was already pretty messy.” Luz assured. “You wanna talk about it?”

“No,” Hunter muffled, hunching his shoulders. 

“Okay,” Luz said simply. “We’ve got time.”

“And ain’t that a new concept,” Hunter mumbled, raising his head slightly to instead rest his chin on top of Luz’s shoulder, and she could already feel him wiping at his face. “Having time. I didn’t think I’d make it past nineteen, if I was lucky.” He sniffled, voice hoarse and raspy.

“That…” Luz frowned. “Yeah, we’re gonna make you see someone for all of that.”

“Make me?” Hunter repeated, a faint, fading amusement to his tone.

“We have our ways.” Luz said with a hint of pride. “You’d be surprised.”

Hunter remained quiet for a moment, and Luz watched the old, ripped tapestries in the rubble wave when the wind went by them. She wondered if Eda would be stealing any of those as a trophy, and how long it’d take before Lilith took it away from her.

“Are you going to come back?” Hunter asked, quietly, curiously, without any hint of pleading in his tone, which she was quite impressed by. The subtle grip around her sides tightening just an inch gave him away, though.

“Of course,” Luz said, not needing clarification on what he had meant. “I couldn’t leave this place forever, not even if I wanted to.” She said, and prayed she wasn't lying.

“Yeah, you couldn’t.” Hunter snorted, slowly pulling back as he wiped up the last of his face, though it was still pretty damp as he faced Luz. “They’d be insufferable trying to get you back.” He said, frazzled hair hanging into his eyes.

“Oh, so you wouldn’t put in an effort, then?” Luz scoffed good-naturedly. “Can’t wait to get rid of me, huh?”

“Well now how am I supposed to respond to that?” Hunter demanded in a whine. “I say yes, and you start getting melodramatic and bringing up pointless random acts of kindness like I’m a liar. I say no, and you get all starry-eyed and unbearable.” He complained.

Luz laughed, despite it all. Hunter rolled his eyes and sat back, looking up at Rascal on his head like they were in on some joke she was missing. He chuckled along with her and shook his head, ears twitching down.

“You’re impossible,” He huffed, though he bore a smile.

“I know,” Luz grinned. “And what’s it say about you, still caring anyway?”

“Don’t push it.” Hunter warned, shoving her shoulder as he leaned further back, her only giggling in response.

A call sounded off in the distance, and they both snapped their heads in the direction of the sound. Hunter’s ears pricked high, the sudden shift in personality from relaxed to alert being another slightly alarming thing to put on Luz’s list of traits Hunter had. 

The call sounded again, and Luz could recognize the sound of Eda’s voice. She smiled and stood, untangling herself from Hunter as she peered out at the terrain, seeing a figure off in the distance, and if she squinted enough, she could see a few more not too far away.

“Over here!” Luz shouted, hands cupped around her mouth.

“Ow,” Hunter winced, rubbing at his ears.

“Oh, are they sensitive?” Luz worried, lowering her voice.

“Just a bit, I think I had a concussion earlier.” Hunter said, shaking his head to clear it.

“You’re seeing a healer,” Luz said firmly, looking back out to the figures in the distance. “Cover your ears.”

Hunter grumbled something about Luz being dramatic, covering his ears as Luz continued waving her hands and hollering to the others. It took a moment, but she saw one of them break away before the others followed suit, and Eda’s wild nest of hair could be recognizable from anywhere.

“Are you ready to make formal introductions?” Luz grinned down at Hunter, who slowly drew his hands away from his ears.

“Do I have to?” Hunter whined. “I could just live off the land, making a tent isn’t that hard. I know how to steal.”

“Nice try,” Luz lightly pushed at his head. “Unless you’ve got a proper living space, you’re staying in the Owl House.”

“I’m sixteen, no place in Bonesborough will give me an apartment unless I’m rich.” Hunter complained.

“Precisely,” Luz said simply, offering a hand to him. “Wanna try standing up?”

“I guess,” Hunter grumbled, taking her hand and letting her pull him to his feet.

He stumbled for a moment, hissing and favoring his right foot, and would’ve fallen right back over if Luz didn’t stop his fall with her body, hanging onto his arm to steady him.

“Yeah, that’s sprained. Or twisted, don’t really feel like checking.” Hunter gritted out, Rascal cheeping from his head before flying off, transforming into a staff that Hunter was quick to grab and then lean on, taking his weight off Luz.

“Viney can take a look at it, I’m pretty sure she came with us.” Luz said, grabbing Hunter’s hand and slinging it over her shoulder. “C’mon, let’s meet them halfway. You’re lighter than a sack of lumpy potatoes, it’s not hard to carry you.”

“I resent that,” Hunter growled, though he let her do as she wished. “You're just weirdly strong.”

“You live in the Boiling Isles, you're telling me you're not?” Luz scoffed, beginning to walk with Hunter, who used his staff occasionally to push aside heaps of rock or try and limp himself along.

“Well, I don’t exactly have a frame of reference.” Hunter drawled, looking up, his ears pinning back against his head when he could make out who was approaching in the distance. Luz could now see that King was sitting atop Eda’s shoulder, too.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Luz said, noting Hunter’s nerves suddenly spiking. “Are you ready to meet everyone, outside of, you know, portal mishaps?” 

Hunter swallowed, looking down at Luz with something that might’ve been fear swirling in his eyes. He searched her face, closing his eyes and taking in half a breath, anything more causing him to cough, exhaling as he opened his eyes again, facing off towards where the others were gathered, the fear replaced with determination.

“Yeah,” He said, clearing his throat when his voice started to shake. “Yeah, I think so.”

Luz smiled, bumping her body against his, and he looked at her with a smile of his own that might just have been hopeful.

She turned back to call a greeting to her friends as Eda was already scolding her for running off the moment she was in earshot, King wailing something about being worried. Hunter gave them his best crooked smile, despite his earlier claims, insisting she’d only come to drag him out of the rubble.

Yeah, Luz thought as she watched Eda and King pause and look Hunter over, easily slipping into mocking him for how beat up he looked, like nothing had ever gone sideways, and it was any other day in the Isles. They’d be okay.

[thefanficmonster]

Rumors

Corpse Husband x Bimbo!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Mentions of Slut Shaming, Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Tiniest bit of Angst, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When some rumors start floating around, every content creator does their best to either ignore them or defuse the situation. However, sometimes, the fans attempt to do the defusing themselves which only leads to a worse disaster. That’s the case for Corpse whose fans were quick to jump to his protection of some ‘false’ rumors.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request, it was a joy to write. I’m sorry for how long it has taken me to complete and post the fic but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy reading it at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it! Love, Vy ❤

Corpse cracks his knuckles, then his shoulders, then his collarbone, then the his neck. He clenches his jaw as he breathes steadily and rhythmically, trying to control an overwhelming wave of anger that he has never felt before. This is a situation he’s never had to deal with nor did he ever think he’d have to deal with and address on a fucking livestream on top of all, but here he is now, doing his best to count to ten and not go on a Twitter responding spree, calling people out on their bullshit. He wanted to do so, he still wants to, but he was stopped in his intentions and brought to a calm mindset where he was swayed into dealing with this the civil way and not by roasting the fuck out of any and every foul-mouthed person he’s seen on his Twitter timeline.

He can’t really guarantee and civility during the stream either, he’s aware his tolerance is as thin as a stretched out, old rubber band and is a slight tug away from snapping and allowing him to unleash hell on these people because of who he’s been seeing red these past few days. 

Let’s not risk a misunderstanding here - Corpse absolutely loves and adores his fans, but seeing this behavior from them is quite upsetting and disappointing. When he uses the terms like ‘assholes’, ‘jerks’ and ‘rude motherfuckers’ he isn’t referring to them. He knows they are good people, but are using the completely wrong tactic of defending him, not to mention he doesn’t even need defending. Even if he did, he’s more than capable of doing it on his own and not getting other people involved.

“Hello everyone, hope you’re doing well.“ He finally settles on saying, officially kicking off the stream. If there’s any indicator of the serious nature of this stream, it’s probably the lack of lo-fi and the lack of even attempted playfulness and cheeriness in his voice. That’s how you know shit isn’t to be messed around about. “I just realized I didn’t specify what I’ll be doing in the Tweet, but I’ll tell you now, so those who aren’t interested in the subject or want to steer clear of the drama can leave. However, I wouldn’t advise clicking off considering this will be an overall, how do I say this, rant, of sorts? It’s meant to knock some sense in the people who have been spreading hate for a specific person on all social media platforms she’s active on.“

The majority of the viewers are already familiar with the subject, some even guilty of spreading the hate Corpse mentioned, but there are a few that are completely clueless - the ones actually not interested in online drama, not just saying they ‘hate drama’. With those people in mind, Corpse takes to addressing the issue from its very beginning.

“So, for a month now, me and this streamer, who’s also a TikTok star, by the name of Y/N have been interacting a lot on social media. She’s an incredibly sweet girl that a lot of people have prejudice towards. She’s very misjudged and misunderstood because people see he solely as her content, if that makes sense. They only know she’s that streamer who wears revealing clothes on her streams and posts risqué pictures on her Instagram. Like, no.“ Corpse cannot even fully believe he has to address this and that slut-shaming people is still a thing in the twenty-first century. He closes his eyes for a moment, fist tightening and his knuckles turning white, “I don’t understand how so many people can be so shallow and just plain jerks towards her in general, but then again - this is especially for my fans, the members of my fandom - I don’t understand the need you guys feel to put Y/N down to defend me from some ridiculous rumors as if it’s the first time I’ve had to deal with people talking shit for attention or to get someone canceled.“ He sighs, reminding himself to slow his roll as to not confuse any viewers who still don’t know the full story, “Anyway, back to the timeline of events. So, considering we’ve never interacted before, all the replying to comments, retweeting, liking posts and whatever sparked some dating rumors. Isn’t that just fucking hilarious - you see two people interacting on social media and the first thing that comes to mind is that they’re in a romantic relationship. Where did the friendship go? Does no one value or consider friendships to be a valid type of human relation anymore?“ He runs a hand through his hair, making another pause to clear his mind and prevent his frustration from overflowing. He promised he wouldn’t lose his cool and would remain calm and collected, but the more he talks about it the tighter he clenches his fist and the faster his heartrate is. His neck and ears are red from the tension he feels all over, almost like he’s physically restraining a raging wild animal and not just his own thoughts and emotions.

There’s layers to his anger, the lower ones - aka the ones he’s yet to get to - will be a nightmarish test of his self-control, he already knows it. Judging by how much of a toll this rant has already taken on him, his patience and control growing thinner and thinner, he’s not sure how he’ll power through the last layers without his voice raising awfully high in volume and his fists searching for some object to punch. To an ignorant eye, his reaction would seem exaggerated and overboard, but little does that ignorant eye know...

“When some of my fans saw those rumors, they reacted very badly. It was quite disappointing to see. Guys, I appreciate you standing up for me even though you shouldn’t do that - I can defend myself, not that this was a matter I needed defending from to begin with. But just the way some of you went about it was horrifically wrong and quite upsetting, to me but especially to Y/N herself.“ He can feel it, the aggravation growing, bubbling up in his chest, “What I saw disgusted me, I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. The things some of you were saying...I couldn’t believe you are in fact the same people who are my fans, my lovely fans who I’ve always thought so highly of. Never did I think you could be able of slut-shaming so vulgarly and grossly, I couldn’t believe what I was reading.“

He has every right to be upset - the things being said about Y/N were truly awful and a lot of things being said were meant to defend Corpse and defuse the rumors, doing so while stomping all over Y/N and her content. Rightfully so, many of her fans were outraged and quick to jump to her defense but were unfortunately outnumbered, leading Corpse to believe not many of her fans are actually real or as dedicated as his which only fueled his fury further.

Anyway, let’s take a look at Y/N’s point of view. Being a content creator for as long as she has, refusing to change her style no matter how many people disagreed and insulted her about it, she’s grown quite used to people spitting insults at her on every social media possible. It’s sad how throughout the majority of her content creating career she’s only had haters, creeps and fake fans watching her videos and streams. Rare are those in her fandom who’d actually stick up for her and defend her in ‘scandals’ such as this one. However, no amount of experience with dealing with hate could have prepared her for this outpour of some of the meanest shit she’s ever heard and been called in her life.

Y/N likes the content she makes, she’s comfortable in her skin and loves her body. She loves showing it off too and nor she nor anyone who wants that deserves to be shamed for who they are and what they do, especially when they aren’t hurting anyone and their content is still appropriate. People have always bashed her for all elements of who she is: her appearance, her clothing style, her streams, her gaming skills, her voice on occasion. She can count the instances when she’s received positive feedback on the fingers of her hands which would depress anyone else but not her. She’s always created content for her own amusement and entertainment so people’s opinions never really bothered her. Until now, until this very drama that has hit a specific nerve, an insecurity of hers she’s never talked about. The comments such as:

(Vy Speaking: Comments containing slut-shaming ahead, go to ### if you want to skip)

“Corpse would never date a slut like her“

“Corpse dating this thot? Please internet stop being ridiculous“

“Corpse ain’t a pimp, y’all need to chill“

“Even if they datin they gon break up soon - whore stays a whore“

###

bothered her far more than she’d like to admit. She has no one to open up about it either, she knows what she’ll get in response if she does - she’ll be told it’s her fault. Her fault because of the way she dresses, the way she talks and acts, because she chose this career to begin with. All her fault. The only person she can turn to she refuses to because she doesn’t want to be a bother - not after so many people confirmed her worries that she’s not good enough for him already anyway, the least she can do is avoid bothering him the best she can.

And that is exactly why this has upset Corpse so much.

“Here’s a little message specifically meant for those who claimed I’d never date someone like Y/N or specifically Y/N. You better listen carefully: Don’t you ever, and I mean EVER slut-shame my girlfriend or any other person ever. I cannot believe I have to explicitly remind you that your behavior isn’t ok. You should fucking know that your behavior isn’t right and that you’re a massive piece of shit for saying those awful things about others you judge solely on appearance and clothing. Does it surprise you that I am, in fact, dating Y/N? If you say yes for the reason you think she’s not good enough for me or that I deserve better, please get the fuck out of my fandom. No one disrespects my girl and gets away with it. That’s final!“

Though still under the influence of a flurry of negative emotions, overhearing Corpse literally telling people to exclude themselves from his fandom for being mean to her, Y/N’s taking a step towards emotional recovery knowing her boyfriend will always have her back. He’ll always be there to prove people wrong, defend her and stand by her. He’ll be there to catch her when the hate knocks her off her feet.

But most importantly: he’ll never ask her to change. Not her style, not her clothes, not her personality, nothing. He fell for her the way she is and for who she is, and he will never allow anyone to try to change her either. For someone who’s never had much support all her life, a single speck of support overpowers all the hate within the blink of an eye. Corpse will always be her knight in shining armor, the knight who defeated all the hateful demons by just entering her life. And though she’s still struggling with the ‘Am I good enough for someone so wonderful?’ and ‘He deserves better, doesn’t he?’ questions, with his hand holding hers, she’ll never let those doubts and insecurities overpower her.

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[theringers]

watch me burn - pierre gasly

illicit affairs, part seven

summary: “oh baby, I've been thinking about it, you know that I've been dreaming about it” watch me burn / michele morrone

a/n: hi:) still a few more parts to go but i went a few chapters without smut and this was needed so enjoy:) also if u listen to the title song while u read its a whole new experience lmfao

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, semi public sex

2 months ago, to the day

Your eyes met his piercing blue eyes in the garage once again. It had been a month since you slept with Pierre and you haven’t stopped thinking about it. The way he stared at you as he fucked you was the exact same way he was glaring at you across the paddock. Needy and desperate.

You shook yourself back into focus and listened as Max’s strategist reiterated today’s race strategy but you couldn’t help daydreaming about what that man could do in bed.

You drowned out the conversation about tyres and looked over to Alpha Tauri at the perfect time. Pierre had his bottom lip between his teeth while he examined his car. He ran his hand slowly over the chassis seductively like he knew you were watching. His fingers grazed the metal in painstakingly slow circles. After he removed his hand from the car was when he caught your eyes. He gave you a smirk, not even a smile, and turned away. It was good to know that you weren’t the only one thinking about what happened.

The race started and you were in the garage, cheering on Max. He had started second on the grid but due to a first lap incident, he was fifth. He was not going to be happy after the race. He can tolerate if he fucks up but having other people interfere with his race is something he takes particularly hard.

Pierre’s car came up behind Max’s around a corner and got too close for comfort. Max jerked his steering wheel too much as he tried to turn, sending Pierre’s car straight into the barriers.

You stood up out of your seat and gasped. Everyone in the garage was relieved to see Max still racing and no one seemed to be concerned about Pierre. You took off your Red Bull Racing branded headphones and slammed them on the table before rushing over to the Alpha Tauri garage.

Anna was seated in her chair, looking worried, but not enough for you. She should be close to tears like you were.

“Have you heard anything from him?” You asked and Anna looked up, almost annoyed.

“He’s conscious,” his race engineer said, “but hurting.” You heard the groan come through followed by a bunch of curse words. He apologized profusely for his move but it was all Max’s fault.

You watched on Alpha Tauri’s monitors as the race was red flagged and decided to head back to Red Bull’s garage. “Let me know when you hear something,” you said to Anna. She nodded and looked back down to her phone. Fucking bitch. Her attitude made you not even feel bad about sleeping with her husband. She didn’t deserve him.

Max walked back to the garage looking like a life size bobble head with his heavy helmet swinging around. “Is Pierre okay?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

“He’s conscious. He took a nasty hit.”

“I know, I feel bad. I didn’t mean to, the steering wheel just got away from me. I saw him crash in my rear view mirror.”

You were visibly shaken and Max always knew the right things to say when you weren’t feeling okay.

“He’s gonna be okay,” Max said, rubbing your back.

You nodded in agreement. “I know he will. I’m going to check on him at the medical center once the race starts again.”

Max smiled at you. “That would be good. Make sure you tell him I’m sorry.”

An engineer put his hand on Max’s shoulder and shoved a spreadsheet full of data in his face. He shrugged his shoulders and walked with the engineer to the monitors.

It wasn’t long before the race got underway again. Max made it up to third, podium position, but there were still at least 30 laps left. You started the trek through the paddock and over to the medical center. You were just a bit too late as you saw Pierre walking out down the ramp. He smiled when he saw you approach him.

“How ya feeling champ?” You asked him.

“I’m a bit sore thanks to your husband.”

Your face fell. “He sends his apologies. I promise he was actually remorseful.”

“Max? Remorseful? What did you do to him?”

You laughed. Max did have a temper and tended to be extra competitive but he had formed a special bond with Pierre these last few years. They weren’t friends by any means but they helped each other out whenever possible. This was one of the times that it wasn’t possible.

“He does genuinely feel bad, Pierre.”

“I know he does, it was a racing incident. I saw the footage.” He limped slightly through the paddock and winced when he put pressure on his left leg. “I think I should go lay down for a bit.” He took another step and lost his balance. You grabbed his arm and held him, making sure he stayed steady.

“This is it right here,” he pointed to his motor home.

“Do you want me to help you up there? I don’t want you to fall.” You said with a soft smile on your face. How could he resist your offer of help?

“Sure,” he limped over to the door and you aided him up a few stairs. “Shouldn’t you be watching the rest of the race? Last I checked, Max was doing really well.”

He sat down on the luxe white leather couch in exhaustion and you sat at the table across from him. “He wanted to make sure you’re okay. He’ll be fine.” You looked around the motorhome, observing your surroundings to seem busy. “So Anna’s nice…” you said, followed by a laugh. You had known Anna for a few months now. Their wedding was right before the season started and you really hadn’t known her much before then either. She tended to keep to herself and you wanted to respect that.

“She can be a bit…”

“Yeah, I know. I went to check on you after the crash and she looked like she wanted me dead.”

“In her defense, she caught me checking out your ass this morning. She was not very happy with me after that.”

You leaned forward to give him a light smack. “Pierre!” You shook your head in disappointment. “What did she think of the way you were practically fingering your car this morning?”

He played fake shy. “Oh, you saw that?”

“You make my heart beat crazy fast.” You admitted, putting your hand to your chest. “That didn’t help.”

“Well, as long as you enjoyed yourself.”

Enjoy yourself you did. He was in his same fireproofs from earlier and you were sure he didn’t know how turned on they made you. They were pulled down to his waist, the sleeves hanging low off his hips. His white undershirt was tight to his body, putting his abs on full display. His legs were spread wide, inviting you in. Was it hot in there? Was the air conditioning on?

He ran his hands over his abdomen and leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. He groaned, sounding like he was in pain, frustrated, and horny at the same time.

Why did he have to be so unbelievably irresistible to you? When you were around him it was almost impossible to contain yourself. There was a magnetic force dragging you to him constantly. You moved yourself to sit next to him, earning his attention and popping his head up.

“You look really hot right now,” you giggled to yourself. He made you feel like a teenager experiencing her first love. The nerves were through the roof.

“Well, I feel hot.” He looked around the walls of the motorhome. “Where the hell is the air conditioning and who turned it off?”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god it’s not just me.” He looked over at you examined your face. He placed his hand on your red cheeks. “You’re flushed.”

When he touched you, a chill ran through your body. Your body felt on fire and he had the power to send a freezing cold chill through it all.

“My cheeks get really red when I get nervous.” You blushed even more having to admit that. It was your least favorite characteristic of yourself. Everyone always knew flat out when you were nervous.

“I can’t tell if it makes you look cute, like I want to hug you, or if I want to fuck you.” His hand still rested on your cheek as he looked back and forth between your eyes and lips. “You look so god damn innocent. Like I could totally ruin you with just a few minutes alone.” His thumb ran over your lower lip and you instinctively stuck your tongue out to meet his thumb. He took the opportunity to put his thumb in your mouth and you suctioned around it, keeping eye contact with him. “Y/n,” he breathlessly begged, “please.”

His lips crashed to yours, feeling warm and secure the moment they touched. His hands held your neck and you moaned into his mouth, forgetting what it felt like to be touched by him.

He hoisted you onto his lap, wincing a bit when you grazed his knee. His hands fit perfectly in the curves of your waist as he pulled you closer to him, grinding your hips. “Don’t do this to me,” he said into your neck.

“Why not?” You said cheekily.

“We don’t have much time.” You almost forgot that there was a race going on right now.

“I can be quick.” You hopped off of him and locked the motorhome door as he undressed out of his fireproofs. He looked so good in his white suit but he looked even better naked. You slipped off your underwear and hoisted your sundress up to your waist before going back to his lap.

He guided your body on top of his, settling you down as you took all of him in, deep. “Shit. A condom.” You said, after the bare feeling of him inside of you set in. God did it feel good but it wasn’t right.

“I don’t think I have any in here.” He said. “I promise I’ll pull out. I need you so bad.” He lightly bit your nipple through your sundress.

“I will kill you if you’re lying to me.” You started to move your hips and moaned at the sensation. He felt so good filling you up all the way.

He took your ass in his hands and started to bounce you up and down on his cock. “That’s it baby, just like that.” He said, admiring your movements. “Fuck me like a good girl.”

Your head fell forward, the feeling running through your body getting almost unbearable to handle.

“Jesus, Pierre, you feel so good.” You pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail and arched your back, feeling like all eyes were on you in the best way possible.

He watched you in awe as you rode his cock without a care in the world. “Your pussy is so tight baby. So tight for me.” A breathy moan escaped his lips and his face looked like he was in pure bliss. There’s nowhere else he would rather be.

“Shit, shit, I’m gonna come.” He said, panicking. You rushed to get off of him as you saw the liquid pool on his abs.

“Did you…?”

“I don’t think I got any inside of you.”

You took a deep breath to collect your thoughts. God, you hoped not.

next part

[paralleledmediaexperience]

right before my birthday back in May someone made a post about Jack needing more love and hugs, and I had this idea in the tags and then went and wrote about a thousand words of this and then. forgot it existed!! anyway I’ve mostly polished it up now. enjoy Jack telling one of his dads he loves him and then not only being hugged but also hearing it back!! it’s what our boy deserves!!!!!

Now with part two!!!!!

-

Jack hadn’t meant to fix everything, in his defense. Yes, they’d defeated god with his powers, which had unintentionally released Amara, who had agreed to take her brother’s powers from Jack and then let the world mostly be as long as she got the chance to see him every once in a while. She’d returned the universe to normal, with a few additions for their happiness, as Amara had said. Dean had choked out Cas’ name, and Amara had frowned before replying that it might take a bit more time. 

They had gone back to the bunker and then the bunker had been thoroughly overrun the whole next week by- it seemed- everyone the Winchesters knew, including a few faces who were apparently as back from the dead by Amara’s hand as Mary was last time she owed a Winchester a favor. Through it all- old friends and odd allies and more- Jack knows Dean isn’t doing well. Isn’t sleeping well. There’s only been one night- well, Jack hadn’t seen Dean drinking but he’d heard Sam’s arguing and Dean’s short, choppy answers, and it was familiar enough.

He’d googled “what to do when my dad misses someone and we can’t talk to them yet,” and wikihow had good suggestions- he’d read through the sections for both short-term separations, and managing the death of a loved one. He hadn’t really been able to figure out which would be more helpful. It had turned out to be the death of a loved one, which… shouldn’t be surprising, no matter that Cas would be back. Soon. 

He couldn’t make Dean do any of the things on the list, but it had suggested that the person would like to feel loved during their time of grieving.

And when he’d searched “how to make someone feel loved,” the first article had said the easiest way was simply to tell them. So when Dean hands him a plate of pancakes with the bacon cooked just how Jack likes it, Jack thinks it’s such a small thing to make his heart feel so big and warm. And he smiles and says, “Thanks Dean. I love you.”

Unfortunately, Jack hasn’t actually grabbed the plate when he says this, and Dean’s hands drop it. The sound of the plate shattering on the tile is only half as upsetting as the wounded look in Dean’s eyes as he looks back at Jack. And Jack isn’t sure why it went so wrong but he looks away immediately, the shame of causing that hurt somehow and the slow horror of realizing he’d ruined the breakfast that Dean had made him turning his stomach into knots. He steps back almost unconsciously before remembering the plate had just broken, and in just his socks, a piece of ceramic jabs into his heel and slices him open, and he actually can’t help the small cry of surprise and pain that slips out.

“Jeez, kid,” Dean breathes out, and Jack gets pushed into the nearest chair. “Get that out of your foot while I clean this up.”

The warm feeling in his chest was gone, pressed into something cold and tight in Jack’s throat. He’d just- the article had said it makes people happy to hear they are loved in times of grief. 

He watches, silent as Dean turns off the stove and sweeps up the wasted food and plate pieces, soundly dumping it in the trash before digging under the sink for a second and coming out with a clean dishrag and a box of bandaids. It’s only when he sees Dean stop and take a quiet, private shuddering breath to forcibly relax his tensed shoulders that he lowers his gaze again. He picks the sharp sliver of plate out of his skin through the sock before peeling it off to examine the cut it left. Very shallow, but it still stretches two inches along on the inside of his heel, the blood sluggishly dripping out. 

It’s not bad, but very inconvenient, so he almost heals it before remembering that Amara had said not to use his powers after she took Chuck’s powers. Not until she returned and okayed it, at least. He sighs, pinching it together with his fingers, half heartedly wishing it had been more awkward and antagonistic between his aunt and his dads, so he could have maybe convinced Dean that they shouldn’t listen to what Amara told him to do. It probably wouldn’t have worked anyway.

He hears Dean turn the water on to damp the cloth, but he can’t make himself look back up again. His gaze goes back down to the floor as Dean starts to turn back toward him, focusing on the small smear of red on the floor, where Dean had dragged the broom through the spots of blood he’d left.

He raises his hands as Dean approaches, ready to be handed the stuff to bandage himself up, but Dean just beats them away as he sits down next to Jack, hunching in as he grabs the injured foot. Jack still feels unbearably small in the silence between them, both him and Dean leaning in and feeling small and unwilling to speak as he wipes away the blood and then dries the skin around it. Jack grabs two of the bandaids and opens them, and Dean wraps them around the cut before patting it and drawing away, and Jack doesn’t know what else to do.

“Sorry,” He says softly, because he isn’t sure what he did wrong but it hurt Dean. And he wasn’t even angry, Jack could tell, cause his shoulders hadn’t tensed the way they did when Dean was trying not to lash out- they’d tensed the way they did when Dean was trying not to fall apart. Jack’s felt like he had to know the difference for a while now.

“Jack,” Dean says, and it’s so sharp that Jack jerks up to look at him. Had he read that wrong? Was Dean angry? But when he meets Dean’s eyes it’s still that hurting, the one that Jack could remember all the way from back when he was a newborn, or something close to it. “No, you don’t-” Dean lifted a hand to his face and dragged it down with a rough breath, and Jack wasn’t expecting him to look back at him but he did, eyes burning into Jack’s. “You don’t have to be sorry. That was on me- I dropped the plate.”

Jack tries not to squirm, because it’s not about the plate, is it? The food had been thrown away and the plate had hurt him, but he’d said he loved Dean and that had made him drop it. “I’m sorry that I-”

“Jack,” Dean cuts across again, and this time his brows are drawing together the way they do when he’s angry. But he looks away from Jack again, and he can tell somehow that it’s not anger at him. Dean doesn’t even want Jack to be looking at this anger. “You say whatever you want, okay? I’m not upset that you said it.”

It isn't that he thinks Dean doesn’t mean the words, but Jack’s also not sure Dean believes them either. “I am, though,” he says, petulant, crossing his arms and letting his foot fall back down to the ground, ignoring the bite of pain from treating the cut so roughly. “If it hurt you, I shouldn’t have-”

Dean cuts him off again. “No. Jack, that’s-” He struggles for a second, but Jack just wants to understand. Unbidden, he holds his breath and Dean draws his in, trying to find the words.

“You get to love me if you want to,” Dean grinds out, and Jack realizes there are tears gathering along his lower lashes. “And you get to tell me if you want to. This hurt ain’t about you.”

That does clear it up, somehow, and Jack nods and looks back down at his hands, realizing there’s still blood on his fingers, too. Dean turns away enough that they can almost pretend he’s not rubbing the tears out of his eyes. “I won’t say it if you don’t want me to either, though,” he says, and he grabs the cloth from the table where Dean had left it, finding a clean spot on the damp corner and using it.

“That ain’t how it works, kid.” He doesn’t elaborate. He just grabs the box of bandaids and closes it before gathering up the paper wrapping. It gets thrown out, and the box stowed back under the sink, and then Jack is just staring at Dean.

“How does it work?” 

They both stop. Jack didn’t expect to actually let the question out, but it’s off of his lips before he can seal them. 

Dean is frozen, staring at him.

“Not like that,” Dean says eventually, weariness dripping from each word. “Jack, do you… do you want us to say…”

He doesn’t say it, the kitchen fan blowing white noise into the quiet air between them. Jack knows that he could ask and Dean would say it right now. Dean always gives the people he loves what they want, what they need, and this would just be the next thing he could offer. Something he could give.

“I don’t need you to.” Jack says, honestly. “I know. I just wanted you to hear it, because I don’t think I’ve ever gotten to say it to you.”

Dean squints at him. “You... “ His eyes are wet again. Without warning, Dean grabs him and pulls him up, into a hug, and Jack grabs back as tight as he can, feeling lost. But it’s good, it’s good just like every time Dean hugs him. He squeezes his eyes shut tight as if he can’t feel the tears welling up in his own eyes, hot and stinging. “I love you too, Jack. I don’t get- you and-” Dean sputters off, still holding him. “If you want to hear it, you let me know. I’ll get better at it.”

“Maybe every once in a while,” Jack says, trying not to let his voice sound like he’s crying. It does anyway.

“Alright then,” Dean says, and he squeezes him one more time before letting go, turning away abruptly and bustling back to the stove. Jack wipes his eyes on his sleeve, his whole chest feeling empty and full all at once. The rag had fallen out of his hands sometime in their conversation, and he leans down to grab it, pausing to wipe up the blood on the floor. Dean comes back a minute later and pulls it out of his hand before passing him another plate. “Here, since the last one humpty-dumpty’d.”

They don’t continue the conversation. Jack eats his breakfast as Dean fixes himself another cup of coffee, and they sit quietly, waiting for Cas to come home.

[boredfanwrites]

Infinitesimal Shift

Am I jumping on the Buddie stuck in an elevator bandwagon during the blackout? Absolutely I am.

- Buck is walking Eddie down to his truck from the apartment when the blackout happens.

- They're two hours out of a 36-hour shift and Eddie wanted to shower before picking Chris up from his Abuela's.

- Buck's apartment was closer to the station - not to mention Eddie had met Buck before their shift and carpooled in the Jeep.

- Either way, they're stuck between the second and third floor when the blackout strikes.

- The elevator lurches loudly, metal grinds and the boys plaster themselves against the wall as it jolts to a stop.

- They're both on their phones in an instant, no signal and the electronic alarm obviously isn't working.

- 'I think my landlord said there was a failsafe alarm built into these that works off its own battery,' Buck says, trying to pull off the panel.

- Eddie hums, sitting down with his back against the wall of the elevator, watching the blonde finally manage to get behind the panel.

- Buck's right, of course. They hear a ringing bell.

- 'Hopefully, landlord hears that and calls dispatch.'

- 'Dispatch? Who also probably have no power?'

- 'I did not think that far ahead.'

- Buck takes a seat next to Eddie and they sit in silence for a few minutes.

- Buck keeps looking at Eddie, making sure he isn't panicking. They've both had their share of small spaces, but he knows Eddie isn't quite over the well.

- Eddie can feel Buck's staring and makes a point to not look at him. If he looks at Buck then he'll smile and Eddie will smile back and all the feelings he's been ignoring dealing with will come out.

- He fails.

- In less than 30 seconds after thinking it.

- 'What?'

- 'Just making sure you're ok.'

- Because of course Buck's first concern is Eddie's well-being.

- 'Are you?'

- 'Coping,' he laughs weakly. 'Did you know we're more likely to die in a shark attack than an elevator?'

- 'Surely that's the other way around?'

- 'Yeah, I think it might be. I was just trying to lighten the mood.'

- And wow, Eddie thinks, I'm such a jerk.

- He'd gotten used to bantering around with Buck. Sarcasm disguising his endless fondness for the younger man.

- Now isn't the time.

- 'I'm glad I decided to walk you down, so you're not in the elevator alone,' Buck starts rambling. 'Not that I wouldn't have come to check up on you if you had gone alone. I would've run out the second everything went dark. Maybe we should've taken the stairs. I mean I know it was a joke 'cause that was your first shift back and you're not quite in the same shape you were a couple months ago and...'

- It's adorable. It is. It's all Eddie can think and focus on.

- He knows Buck is doing it as a distraction from their situation but right now it's making him fall more in love with the man.

- He has to do something. Say something.

- 'Ana and I broke up.'

- Buck stops short. He stares at Eddie for a bit and the older man shrinks under his gaze.

- Neither say anything for a while and Buck tries the failsafe alarm again.

- Eddie stares at Buck's back, straining his eyes at the height. He's trying to telepathically get Buck to speak because he doesn't want to have to explain.

- He doesn't know how to.

- It was an inevitable event.

- 'Not long after I was shot, actually. Maybe two weeks?'

- Buck spins on his heel and stares at him.

- 'You have been single for a month and a half? And you didn't think to tell me until we got stuck in here?'

- 'You were with Taylor?' Eddie knows it's a weak defense.

- 'Why does that matter?!' And Buck sees right through it.

- 'I don't know. I just thought that maybe you'd want to focus on your own love life for once, instead of getting dragged in to the end of mine. Again.'

- Buck is silent again, judging Eddie from the corner. Feeling out what he should say next.

- Except he doesn't.

- Silence again.

- Eddie complains a lot about needing peace and quiet, but now that he has it, he's not sure he wants it.

- He'd give anything for one of Buck's signature smiles right now.

- That hasn't happened since the elevator first stopped and god how long has it even been.

- Eddie checks his phone. An hour. It's been an hour.

- His background of Chris and Buck smiling and building Lego together mocks him.

- He realizes he would never have made Ana his background and isn't that what couples do?

- 'Hey Buck? What's your cell background?'

- 'You and Chris tackling that pancake stack at Ellie's your last birthday?'

- 'Not Taylor?'

- 'Why would it be Taylor?'

- 'Because she's your girlfriend?'

- 'She's not.'

- Buck sounds exasperated. Like he's had to explain multiple times.

- Eddie guesses he has, back before they were a thing. But he told Eddie she kissed him after he was shot and that the two were going to try dating.

- 'I thought...'

- 'You thought wrong. I couldn't. Don't like her like that anymore.'

- 'Wow you sound like one of Chris' friends with a crush,' it comes out before Eddie can stop it.

- Hurt fills Buck's eyes and Eddie has to look away. He can't deal with being the reason for it.

- 'And if I told you there's someone I'm in love with but can't have? There's someone who actually thinks I'm worthy and deserving of love? But for two months I thought they were taken and I couldn't keep hurting myself anymore so I thought I would move on?'

- Eddie gulps. He can't. He can't be talking about Eddie. Life doesn't work that way. Not for him.

- 'Except I couldn't. It's too soon. I still love him and I can't imagine life without him and now that I know he's single it's all I can think about. Us. How well we work together. How beautiful we could be. Do I sound like an adult again?'

- Buck's glaring but it doesn't have as big of an effect when there are tears in his eyes.

- 'Evan.'

- His face softens. He's smiling at Eddie again.

- Granted, Eddie may have taken some liberties with calling Buck by his first name.

- It was only reserved for serious conversations. Times when Buck needs to listen and believe what was coming out of Eddie's mouth.

- 'I love you, too.'

- 'You do?'

- 'How could I not? I broke up with Ana because I was trying to deal with my feelings for you. I wasn't sure, you know? You're such a big part of my and Chris' life and I was trying to rationalize it as appreciation for you. You do so much for us and never ask for anything in return. But I was wrong. It's love. It's been love for at least a year and I was just too afraid to accept it.'

- Buck just smiles, reaching out a hand.

- Eddie takes it easily.

- He leans into Buck's side, pulling the other's arm around him.

- He knows that Buck is feeling for a heartbeat, Eddie's listening for Buck's too.

- They stay like that until the doors creak open and Albert's face pops between the gap.

- 'Hey, they're not dead!'

- The team gets them out pretty easily and they both agree to come in on shift to help with the fall out of the blackout. It's mostly going to be driving around in the rig, trying to spot problems as they occur.

- Buck walks Eddie to his truck and grabs the extra LAFD hoodie he keeps in there for emergencies.

- The same hoodie that Eddie has stolen on some of the harder nights when he was alone.

- He realizes just how entangled Buck had become in the Diaz's lives. Buck keeps a change of clothes in the truck, Eddie keeps a set of his own in the Jeep.

- Buck has his own drawer at Eddie's house, but Eddie doesn't have anything at Buck's.

- Buck spends more time living on Eddie's couch than either of them spends in the apartment.

- Buck belongs at home. With Chris. With Eddie.

- 'You know, if you moved in with me, you wouldn't get caught in an elevator in a blackout again,' Eddie tries.

- 'Yeah?'

- 'Yeah.'

- Buck moving into the Diaz residence was an inevitable event.

- Eddie was right - the next blackout, Buck didn't get stuck in an elevator. He was surrounded by candles and blankets, cuddled up with his boyfriend and son.

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