#it goes so so so hard and it really hits my emotions in places

[fiveredlights]

Loved it!!!! Is there any Benjamin POV of when he found out Max and Daniel were drivers in this world? Like any thought process? It surprised me too that they weren't in his world haha. Thanks for sharing!

okay i managed 400 words of benjamin arriving in the universe and then my brain continued on its holiday in aruba so i’ve written out what would’ve happened afterwards

It's not like Benjamin expected there to be a whole parade when he landed into his DAUD universe, but a room full of people staring at him like he's an alien from another planet feels a little weird.

Technically, he is an alien from outer space—if you equate an alien to a life form, and the other planet is true, but at that point they should consider that we’re all aliens in a planet floating around the universe and there’s no need to stare at him like that.

Or really, they aren’t staring at him. They’re staring at the name emblazoned into his race suit. Or the flag. Maybe they’re struggling to understand why the Dutch and Australian flags are mashed together.

Benjamin worked really hard to get the team and the FIA to approve that. He had to do a whole presentation.

One of the people—his boss he assumes, given that he’s one of the two people to be wearing RB shirts—takes a slow step forward, adjusting the black rounded frames on his face.

“Benjamin—” Ooh, French, “—Ricciardo-Verstappen,” he states, though it’s really more like a question.

“Yeah.” He steps out of the portal tube. “Did I get sent to the wrong universe or?”

“Maybe,” someone in a Red Bull shirt quietly mutters and the other RB shirt guy hits him in the shoulder and scolds, “Christian.”

He has no idea who this Christian guy is but he knows he already doesn’t like him. Giving off bad energy, or whatever Julian uses as an excuse whenever he meets someone he doesn’t like.

“I’m Laurent Mekies, I’m your team principal,” the French—Laurent says. “Can we just confirm who your parents are?”

Everyone in the room seems to lean in and hold their breath. Benjamin thinks they’re all really weird. “Daniel Ricciardo and Max Verstappen. They live in Monaco, or well in my universe they live in Monaco, so maybe they’re in the Netherlands or Australia here.”

Laurent immediately spins onto his heels and they all form some sort of emotional support huddle, like they’re the ones who got sent through to another universe.

“I’ll get Max,” Christian sighs and points a finger at Laurent. “You’re calling Daniel.”

Laurent tenses. “I don’t want to call Daniel. Why can’t you call Daniel? You knew him longer?”

Christian goes very quiet. “I think he’s blocked my number,” he says with no room for further questions as he walks out of the room.

—

benjamin has found a wheely chair to spin around the room in whilst laurent peter and helmut (idk if he's here) debate on who is calling daniel, benjamin's like "I can call Daniel if you don't want to break the news," and frankly it's a bit concerning how three of these very grown men look very ready to take this offer.

eventually someone is like, you know what. we'll get MAX to call him. daniel will answer max's calls and they leave benjamin in the room with laurent whilst the rest of them look in the mirror and wonder what they need to do to atone for this hell-ish situation they've been placed in.

(there is no atonement possible. you must live in the decisions you made. no amount of apologies or prayers will be able to heal the deep, deep scars you have given. zero love and zero light will be given.)

“So Max works here or?” benjamin asks, if only to make small talk so they’re not sitting in silence. laurent takes a very long look, he's confused. he tells him that of course Max works here, he's a driver?? but reigns it in because maybe benjamin was asking if max was at some different RBR factory. or maybe he's asking because he thinks max is in monaco, laurent doesn't possess the brain cells needed right now.

benjamin is thinking oh maybe max's a sim driver. or a test driver. he knows that max's father was a f1 driver, but doesn't really know much else. nowhere in benjamin's brain is the thought that max is a formula 1 driver, and certainly nowhere in benjamin's brain is the thought that he's a 4x WDC.

max walks in, looks at benjamin. benjamin looks back. max walks out.

he walks in again. looks at benjamin again. walks out again.

he walks in again. is about to walk out when benjamin's like, "You know walking out for the third time doesn't activate me being sent back to my universe?"

(internally, max is like, oh my god. he talks exactly like daniel. i'm looking at another daniel. which you know. a little bit insane given that i wrote benjamin to look like max, and benjamin wouldn't really sound like daniel accent wise at least, given that they raised the kids in monaco, but you know. maybe the speech patterns are similar, who the fuck knows. easier to see the parts of the person you love than yourself in your kid. can't blame him, daniel did the exact same thing for like the whole fic.)

max immediately looks around at the whole group of people and does a head nod for benjamin to follow him into his office, and it’s probably not until he sees the replica WDC trophy sitting on a bookcase with max’s name inscribed on it benjamin’s like what the fuck…

in his head benjamin is like, i am hiding the fact that i am shocked about max being a driver so well. he’s not. he’s kinda just staring at the trophy but max is way too distracted about the fact that alternate him had a kid (emphasis on kid, singular) with daniel.

benjamin is stalking around the room looking at EVERYTHING, and he catches the photo of max and daniel in malaysia 2016 and is even more like what the fuck… BOTH of my parents are drivers?????

first thought: they’re both horrible normal road car drivers. maybe it makes sense now.

second thought: god it’s so cool that his parents (or this version of his parents) are formula 1 drivers. that’s like so arguably cool. suck it julian, he KNEW doing the DAUD program was a good thing. 

third thought: do they know sebastian vettel.

in this moment he has decided that this max and daniel cannot know that his max and daniel aren’t drivers. he kinda suspects that max might be going through a quick existential crisis and he’s not making it bigger by telling 4x WDC max that his max is a 0x WDC and has never driven a f1 car in his life. 

(also it has not crossed his mind that this max and daniel are not together. if you saw that photo of malaysia with max looking at daniel doing the shoey like he wants to jump his bones in public, yeah i wouldn’t question it either and end that line of thought immediately.)

i’m learning very quickly that benjamin processes things so quickly that he doesn’t really have time to freak out.

max is processing everything and benjamin is like “are you gonna call dad or?? where is he??”

max: dad?

benjamin: yeah. dad. daniel. this tall. your husband. or partner idk i don’t know, i’m not gonna assume. oh god are you guys broken up here please don’t tell me that. i mean like tell me, but like that’s so weird.

max kinda looks embarrassed and benjamin clocks him so quickly. 

benjamin: oh. you two aren’t together here. you two have never been together here.

max: … yeah

benjamin is immediately like fuck everything about them being drivers what do you MEAN they aren’t together???? he looks at the malaysia photo again. looks at max again. 

benjamin then decided his only goal is to parent trap his parents. which i think he did achieve. good job dude.

[dementedmk]

I am once again thinking about this video

[hifugoro]

thinking sooooo hard about the removed akechi mementos request. not only because we got to see him Ace Detective-ing (peak!) but because the moral of it all is so. Akechi. very long rant incoming

one of the major things that I think sets him apart from the rest of the thieves is that he doesn’t believe that circumstances lessen the effects of actions. like at all. there are multiple examples of this but the cutscene during marukis fight where he’s the only one to keep attacking (and him being the only one to show outright disdain towards maruki in general) + the thieves den conversation with yusuke about shido / madarame (Y: “Perhaps there was a certain misstep in his life that eventually led him so astray.” A: “So you’re saying he may not have been truly evil? Your drivel’s as outlandish as always…”) are ones that stand out to me most. he doesn’t care about what causes bad people to be the way they are, and he doesn’t care what otherwise good people’s intentions are when they do bad things. the act itself is what matters

it goes without saying that this extends to himself, I mean he outright states that he cant comprehend the phantom thieves not just killing him after the engine room fight. he didn’t mean that as a “wow... I can’t believe you’re being so nice to little old me….” moment. it was him being genuinely confused as to why they’re still trying to get him on their side. because he didn’t say anything he said to gain pity points with them, nor does he think the things he said deserve enough pity points to spare his life

and then you have this mementos request. in which a corrupt diet member has a son with his mistress, who subsequently commits suicide, and then falsely accuses the son of a crime many years down the line. “you all want to help that poor victim, don’t you?” akechi says. the poor victim, who was enacting a revenge plot on his criminal father that made him into a criminal as well. huh.

again, this is all coming from the guy who like a month ago, got a heartfelt speech about how he can still come back from what he’s done because the thieves can understand where he’s coming from. this happens at (arguably) his emotional lowest, where it probably hits harder than it could at any other time. and this is his direct response to that. this is him saying, in essence, that their kind words at the end were nonsensical, because his circumstances Don’t Matter

after he sends these texts, morgana goes “But akechi is just like him…” because it’s true, but that’s the Point. It makes no difference that akechi can empathize, and place himself directly in toji’s shoes. he had a hunch about the truth the entire time, and he still aided in making toji’s act of extortion exposed. understanding the viewpoint of someone who does bad things Does Not Matter to him

and that, to me, is what his sense of justice is at it’s core. which is why in the end, he doesn’t have that same sympathy for himself that everyone else does. he killed people. end of story. no other notes

and my god! I really wish they kept this in because it really hammers in that extra layer he has to him. atlus do you hate me

[4dbarbie-archive]

4dbarbie remix: Give up and Be Free

Hello! It's been a while since my last remix. I felt spontaneously inspired to make this based on my most favourite 4dbarbie asks. This one's a bit different as this time I got help from AI so they did a lot of the legwork and I made edits as I saw fit, it definitely cut down on the amount of time it takes to make a remix! I asked them to write it in a conversational tone like a friendly guru talking to me so some of the wording has been changed (which can sometimes be helpful in understanding the message in a new way) so it's not entirely 4dbarbie's words verbatim but the message remains the same (feel free to check out the source texts if you wish!). Hope you enjoy!

Edit: This is based on 4dbarbie's guide to a new identity but you can do it with I AM in mind instead (replacing paragraph 6) for self-realization

My highlight colour key: key concepts are in pink, action points in purple, really important points in red

Source texts: 1, 2, 3, 4 Recommended reading: 1, 2, 3, 4

Welcome, my friend. Let me guide you through something deeply transformative, yet so simple it might surprise you. First and foremost, you need to get to a place within where the person you’re identified with no longer bothers you. As long as you fight it and try so hard & incessantly to change it, you're only giving it further reality. It’s not about force or willpower—it’s more of a surrender, or as I prefer to call it, a giving up. Yes, giving up. Because even if you're not happy about what you see, there is no way around it besides accepting it. Even if this feels like misery at first, accept it. Just sit with it. Only when you no longer fear things staying the same, when you cease caring, does true change begin.

You see, I didn’t fake being unaffected. I simply allowed things to happen to “me”. Painful, pleasant, it didn’t matter. I didn’t try to change anything. I let go of the exhausting loop of desire and fear, like finally putting down a heavy load. The emotions still came, but I didn’t involve myself with them. They didn’t interest me anymore, I became indifferent and neutral to whatever was happening. If I got what I wanted, fine. If I didn’t, fine again. Events passed by like clouds—leaving no imprint, no reverberation. In time, it was like they never existed at all.

And here’s the beautiful part—you’ll begin to toy with this idea: “What if none of this ever really existed in the way I thought?” It’s playful and not serious because you've stopped caring. You’ve stopped chasing “realization”, stopped chasing anything. There's no more trying, no more effort. You no longer want or need anything. And in place of needing nothing, you find something you never expected: power. Not power over things, but power in yourself, in your complete detachment from the world. When you reach this point, everything else becomes secondary.

So how do you walk this path? Start by giving up. Give up the idea that you can control anything. You can do nothing about life but cease caring and let it happen. Do not try to understand anymore; simply be. Let everything be as it is. Let life happen. After all, we all die one day, and it’ll all be over anyway. Why exhaust yourself worrying, fearing, striving or desiring? It’s like fighting an ocean tide—you’re just tiring yourself out. No matter what, you can't force life to give you what you want. Allow everything its being and leave it alone. Instead, step back and let the waves wash over you, let life happen as it happens. Life will flow as it will, and you no longer push or pull at it.

Expect nothing. Not from your body, not from your mind, not from the world. Let them be as they will. If life wants to beat you, just let it beat you. It’s like facing a bully—when you stop reacting, when you stop caring, they lose interest. Sure, maybe they’ll hit harder for a while, but you’ve already surrendered. What more can they do? The same goes for life—stop caring what happens and you’ll find it starts losing its power over you.

Now that you’ve freed yourself from expectations, give yourself everything. Live completely in the moment, forget about a past, don't think about a future. Be here, fully, now. All the good things you used to think about others, think about yourself. In each moment, ask yourself “What if there’s nothing outside of me? What would I think and feel right now?”. Let go of caring what life does with it, just do it. You’re not doing it for some future result; you’re doing it because it feels true to you; to be free and be exactly what you want to be in the moment. Whether tomorrow repeats itself or brings something new, so what? You no longer depend on anything external to feel fulfilled. You keep to yourself and continue thinking what you want, continue being who you want to be. If life follows along, let it. If it doesn’t, let it not. Hold steady to what feels right within you, and allow your thoughts to shape what's real to you.

Finally, remember to forget. The past? Gone. What you see before you? Just a shadow of what was. Now, here’s the key: Want nothing. Do nothing. Don’t chase, don’t seek—just let yourself be. This doesn’t mean you stop living or acting; it simply means you stop the endless striving, the relentless push to try make life bend to your will. Instead, just watch what happens. And most importantly, don’t attach any meaning to it. Be a witness, a quiet observer of the flow of life. Whatever happens, good or bad, is just passing through—you have nothing to do with it. It’s not permanent, nothing is. So why believe in it as though it were immovable? Cease caring and be free!

Let the world dance as it may, but you—remain still within. Watch as the transient nature of everything becomes clearer. You’ll see that the world outside is nothing more than a reflection of the thoughts you no longer hold, and that what you once took to be reality soon ceases to be when you take away your identification.

[urinarythreatinfection]

Idea popped into my mind one night so i had to write it down because i couldn't focus on anything else..

RUFF!

Various x GN!reader (Shanks, Zoro, Luffy) Small dirty joke in Shanks's but overall fluff.

Shanks

Your boyfriend has always been expressive, saying how much he loves you and how sexy and hot you are. The rare times he isn’t is when he feels vulnerable or truly stressed, when he tries to not show any emotion to avoid showing stress. It’s rare though, most of the time he’s almost like a dog. You can almost see his tail wagging when he hugs or kisses you. Though right now, you really do swear that you can see a tail. Him and Beckman are speaking, Shanks’s dog ears pushed back slightly to show nervousness. “Shanks?” You call out to him and they perk up while his head turns to look at you.

“Baby!” His tail wags until he remembers the situation and it stops, ears pushing back again. “Uhh..”

“He got hit by a devil fruit.” Beckman says and you almost sigh in relief, so you weren’t going insane. “I had told him to be more careful but he was adamant that it was fine because even if he got hit it ‘wouldn’t do anything harmful’”

“This isn’t harmful! I’m perfectly fine~” Your captain dismisses it and you walk over to him, placing your hand out to see how far this transformation is.

“Paw.” Shanks looks at you and immediately puts his hand on yours.

“Ah-” He stutters and takes his hand off, looking away.

“Spin.” Beckman goes next and Shanks twirls, getting embarrassed afterwards.

“Stop, I get it, I get it. I shouldn’t have been hit.” He puts his hand on his face, tail drooping as he licks his lips like an anxious dog.

“Cute, I actually think I like this quite a lot.”

“You do?” His tail lifts up and you nod, then hold your arms out so he can come to you; which he does gladly. His arm wraps around you while his tail wags, then it slows down like he thought of something sad. You’re confused for a moment then get an idea of what it is, leaning down to kiss his stump then his cheek.

“Handsome boy, your hugs are always my favorite in the whole world~” You hug him tighter and he brightens, kissing all over your face while his tail wags like crazy… until he knocks you over. Doesn’t stop his kisses though.

“Honey~” He sniffs you then buries himself in your neck. It looks like his excitable traits have been heightened by this transformation.

…

“..Are you hard?” Maybe too much.

Zoro

You stare down at Zoro, your boyfriend, sitting in front of you with Luffy to the side. He has dog ears and a tail, looking away in shame. “I can’t believe you tried to slice it.”

“It-” He’s about to yell but you glare at him and he goes back to avoiding eye contact. “It looked like I could’ve.” Zoro got a beam shot at him by a devil fruit user and instead of dodging like a regular person he had tried to slice it, which did nothing as it wasn’t physical. Maybe if he put real effort into it he could’ve parried it but, being cocky, he just assumed it would be easy to slice and that was that.

“You didn’t even know what the fruit could’ve done, we’re lucky it’s basically harmless.” You watch him and his ears slowly push back more, guilty.

“Hmm, I like it! You’re like an actual guard dog now!” The captain says and Zoro frowns. Usopp, tinkering with something in the background, cracks up with you and subsequently gets Zoro to growl at him.

“Hey they laughed too!” The sniper complains after flinching, quickly going back to what he was doing when Zoro growls at while showing his now sharp canines. Laughing isn’t worth his life.

“Be nice.” You reach over and pet his head, scratching his scalp. Zoro’s eye closes as one of his legs starts to bounce. “Aww, feel good?” You scratch behind one of the dog ears and it bounces faster. Sanji walks past while heading to the kitchen and your boyfriend suddenly jumps up and grabs your wrist, pulling you to his side and growling at the cook like an actual guard dog.

“Shit!" He flinches, getting annoyed since he wasn't even gonna do anything. "Growling at me like you're threatning. Maybe this fits you though, you always did stink like a dog.” He provokes Zoro and the swordsman attacks him.

“Stop!” You yell and he freezes, barely dodging a kick.

“Don’t do that in the middle of a fight!” He barks at you.

“Woahh!” Luffy’s immediately interested, his eyes twinkling as he goes next. “Zoro, sit!” The swordsman sits while Sanji slyly smiles.

“Maybe we should give you a dog name, like Mossy.” Zoro clenches his jaw but stays seated. “Come here, Mossy, c’mon, paw!” Sanji holds out his hand and Zoro stands up while putting his swords away. “Huh, it worke-” He headbutts the cook. Doggy only takes orders from you and his captain.

Luffy

It’s a nice day, you were walking around with your friend and boyfriend on an island when you got tired; so now you’re relaxing in the sun for a nap. You’re falling asleep when you suddenly feel hands on your shoulders, opening your eyes to see Luffy barrelling towards you, slamming onto you before you can react which makes you knock down onto your back. “(Y/n)!!!” He yells happily and suddenly starts to lick your face. You push him back but before you can say anything you see dog ears on his head, a tail wagging behind him.

“Luffy? What happened?” You’re confused, are you still half asleep?

“I wanted to see you!”

“Not that, hun.” You point at his ears and he tilts his head before realizing.

“Oh! Got hit by something. Not a big deal though it doesn’t hurt.” You can tell it doesn’t hurt considering his behavior. You hear Nami next.

“Luffy, I told you… not to run off!” The navigator says angrily, panting from trying to keep up with the captain. He looks back at Nami, still attached to you, then starts to pant and noms your cheek.

“Yer choo shlow.” His voice is muffled with your cheek in his mouth, doesn’t hurt but it’s uncomfortable and he only gets off when you pry him off. He lands onto the ground while you wipe saliva off your face. “I missed you!” He jumps up, tail wagging.

“We just saw each other not too long ago Lu, I just wanted to nap.” You get most of the saliva off your face though you’ll have to wash it later.

“I still missed you, though…” He thinks for a moment. “More than usual too, weird.” Not one to care about specifics, he gets over it fast. “Well whatever, did you miss me too?”

“...Yes I missed you too.” Luffy’s too cute to refuse, especially when he gets so happy.

“Yahoo!” He starts to get zoomies, running around excitedly while his tail wags quickly. You look at Nami who sighs.

“It was other pirates, he got hit because he started complaining about being hungry.” She explains with a sigh, putting a hand on her face from stress.

“Well he looks okay, we should get him to Chopper just in case.” You look at your boyfriend who’s still running around. “Luffy, come here!” He just stands still for a moment, looking at you, before continuing to zoom. “Luffy…” He stands there but dodges and runs away when you try to grab him, doing the same as you continue to try.

“You gotta catch me!” He’s making a game out of this, happy playing with you. In the end he ended up listening less as an overly excited dog.

[cloverapple]

Shifting FAQ and why you need to calm the FAQ down

“Can I script that—”

Yes.

“Can I shift to a reality where—”

Yes.

“Is permashifting possible?”

Yes.

“I’ve been trying for x amount of years—”

The time passed already. Focus on here and now.

“Will X happen if I script Y?”

Whatever you script will happen exactly how you want it to.

“Can I shift without any methods?”

Yes. There are infinite ways to shift = Infinite ways to go about something that is instant.

“I’ve tried everything—“

Except fully trusting yourself, since you’re still dwelling on your shifting journey from a place of lack.

“Do I need to believe 100% to shift?”

No. You just need to allow it. Doubt doesn’t stop you, resistance does.

“Is shifting, like, REALLY real?”

Yes.

“But my blockages—“

You’re not a clogged drain. There’s nothing blocking something that happens naturally.

“My subconscious doesn’t believe in my affirmations—“

Oh, my bad. I didn’t realize affirming was the only way to manifest. Sooo, what should I do with this whole bag of feeling my way into my DR, visualization, subliminals, SATs, askfirmations, scripting, channeling, daydreaming, meditating, embodying the state, living in the end, inner conversations, mental rehearsals, literally just vibing, and doing absolutely nothing because sometimes that works too? Should I just toss all that in the trash? Light it on fire? Bury it in the backyard? Cool, good to know.

“Can I shift while I’m tired? While I’m sad? While I’m stressed?”

Yes, yes, and yes. Emotions don’t block shifting. If anything, they help.

“Why haven’t I shifted yet?”

That’s like asking why the sun isn’t rising when you know it’s just beneath the horizon. You know it’s coming, you know it can break through any second, but you keep staring at the dark like the world is ending.

“How do I figure out what I need to do?”

The only person in this universe who knows the answer to that question is you, yet you doubt yourself so much, you mistrust yourself so much, that it’s like whatever your subconscious is telling you goes in one ear and out the other.

“But NOTHING works for me 😭”

Okay, listen—in the gentlest, most kindergarten-teacher voice possible—shifting is like 10% processes that “work for you” or not and 90% trust and letting go. If you can’t trust yourself, cool, trust your undeniable ability to shift. If that feels like a stretch, trust your subconscious (it’s been running the show since forever, give it some credit). Still not there? Trust the outcome. Trust something, anything. And then? LET. GO. RELAX. Like, actually unclench your jaw and stop treating shifting like it’s a piece of raw chicken and you a dog that has not eaten in *checks watch* 2 minutes.

Because if you’re over here sobbing, whining “nothing works for meeeee,” that tells me two things:

A) You don’t trust anything, which, surprise surprise, makes shifting a little difficult. B) Something does work for you. There’s a sweet spot, a method that clicks—but you haven’t found it because you approach every process with fear instead of fun, frustration instead of curiosity, anxiety instead of chill.

Imagine slipping into the driver’s seat of a car you know how to drive, but you’re bawling, panicking, flailing around like the steering wheel’s out to get you. You’re gonna hit a pedestrian. THE PEDESTRIAN IS YOU.

People forget that shifting is as limitless as you are. Shifting is you. Shifting has no rules. You have no rules. So why are you boxing shifting in? Why are you boxing yourself in? Why are you creating problems for something infinite? Why are you stepping into the identity of a finite being when you have the power to shift realities?

You weren’t born with limits. You were taught them. Conditioned to believe that things have to be hard, that you have to struggle, that you need to earn what’s already yours. But shifting doesn’t play by those rules, and neither do you. The only limits are the ones you keep dragging along with you.

“I’m quitting shifting. I still can’t shift even though I’ve tried XY and Z⏤”

This is you:

Side note: If you’ve read all this and you’re still frustrated, overwhelmed, confused, and sitting there like “I don’t know what to dooooo 😩”

Take. A. Break.

A day? Cool.

A week? Even better.

Two weeks? A whole month? Do it.

Take a break from shifting, from overthinking, from spiraling down every forum post and Reddit thread like it’s gonna reveal the secret of the universe. Because if you’ve hit that point where nothing sticks, every piece of advice goes in one ear and out the other, every answer feels wrong, and you’re waiting for some magical piece of advice to make you shift, guess what? You need to calm the FAQ down.

Maybe your brain’s flashing red lights like “WARNING: SYSTEM OVERLOAD” and you’re out here ignoring it, treating frustration and exhaustion like it’s another problem to fix instead of a big ol’ sign that your mind needs a nap and a snack.

Let it chill. Recharge. You’re not losing progress; you’re just giving your brain a breather so when you come back, shifting feels like fun again, not a chore.

[writingroom21]

Okay imagine this reader goes in a all boys school pretending to be a dude to cover up her brother but soon rafe later knows she's a girl since she's in the guys shower room😫

A/N: I literally love this idea so much. She's The Man is one of my favorite movies.

Boys Bathroom

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex(wrap it up), p in v, overstimulation, squirting, oral (f receiving), fingering, semi public sex (communal bathroom), (let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 3.6K

The plan was simple. You would go to the school for two weeks and then swap places again. It shouldn’t be that hard to fool everyone since the two of you are twins. Since your parents found out they were having twins they got the two of you matching things. Your cribs, toys, clothes were all bought to match.

 The only downside was one of you is a girl and the other is a boy.

When the news was broken to them, they had mixed emotions. On one hand they get the best of both worlds with one of each. The other is that they planned on having the same gender twice. They tried to look past it and throughout childhood it was fine. Your dad had the perfect little boy to play catch and watch sports with. Your mom had a little angel that she could dress up and show around. 

It was all perfect until you hit puberty. Max, your brother stayed the perfect son that he always was. But you had become the wild child of the family. You weren’t really wild, just not the picture perfect daughter they had in mind. In middle school you started to not want your mom to dress you, leading to arguments about how you dressed.

Then now in highschool you are focused on being an artist, which isn’t an ambitious enough job for them. You would think that after their divorce they would stop agreeing with each other. But no they will always agree on one thing, you are too much to handle. They just don’t like how outspoken you are and how you will not conform to the version of you they want.

They focus on you so much they don’t even realize that it’s Max they should be worrying about. Sure he gets good grades and he never gets in trouble, it doesn’t mean he’s not doing things. You are always covering for him so he can sneak out of the house. Driving him around after he got so drunk with his friends that he can’t function. They don’t see that side of him so they worship the ground he walks on. 

They love him so much that they are now sending him to a prestigious all boys school. Max has been complaining about it all week since they told him. It’s a boarding school so he will be under 24/7 supervision. Which is a no in his books. Max has done everything basically to try and get out of this to no luck. Leading us to the moment the plan was formed.

“Come on please. Just do this one thing for me.” Max pleads at the end of your bed. You continue reading your book ignoring him and his weird request. He says your name to get your attention. “I’ll get you something when I come back. A token from Bora Bora sounds nice right?” You scoff at his audacity. “Dude I’m not going to pretend to be you so you can go on some vacation. It wouldn’t even work, you're a guy and I’m not.” Max throws himself on your bed, face planting onto the sheets. “If you do this for me I’ll get mom and dad to lay off your art school decision.” The book drops from your hands and you stare at him. You don’t have to think, getting them off your back is much needed. “Fine.”

The wig itches your scalp as you fix your clothes making sure your binding doesn’t come loose. The last thing you need is for it to come undone and your boobs come out. It;s the second day at the school, everyone seems to be buying that you are Max. Your best friend had shown you how to place wigs on, making sure that it can’t get loose. It seems to be staying in place so you can’t complain. You have to get used to squishing your boobs so much but it’ll be okay.

Your parent’s had splurged for Max to have his own dorm so you get to relax in your own space thank god. It would have been perfect if it weren’t for the boy next door. You had been unpacking when a knock interrupted you. Alright show time. You open the door to be greeted with one of the hottest guys you have ever seen. He has to be at least six feet tall, with hair you just want to wrap your fingers around. Don’t even get you started on his blue eyes. 

You were so caught up with checking him out that you didn’t notice he said something. “Hello?” He questions with this weird look. “Huh?” You clear your throat and make your voice deeper. “Sorry, what did you say?” You stand up straighter, trying to make you look taller. “Said I’m Rafe. I'm in the room right next door.” He points to the left. 

“Nice to meet you, I'm.” Your name almost slips out but you covered it with a cough. “My name's Max. Want to come in.” Rafe shrugs, entering and looking around your room. There’s not really much to look at. The walls are bare and the clothes are all put away. The desk has books for the classes you’ll be in and unfortunately a box of pads. Rafe spins around to you.

“Dude why the fuck do have those?” He practically shrieks. He’s pointing behind him and you follow it to see the box. Fuck you had forgotten to put them away. “Oh I have a twin sister that likes to prank me. She always packs something embarrassing in my bags.” You try to explain. Rafe listens as you fumble through your words, kinda weirded out that some dude has chick products.

“You have a twin?” He really doesn’t believe you. Instead of explaining further you pull out your phone, finding a picture of yourself to show him. Rafe looks at the photo and then at you trying to find similarities. “I can see it.” He looks closer at it again. “You know she’s kinda hot.” A blush forms on your cheeks. “Thank you.” Your eyes widen when you realize what you said.

“I mean she would say thank you or something dumb like that.” You laugh off. Rafe just nods at you slowly making his way towards the door. He can’t wait to get out of this room, something about you just isn’t right. “Right. Uh I gotta go. See ya man.” He was out of the room as soon as the words left his mouth. Leaving you there hoping you didn’t give yourself away.

The next few days you saw Rafe everywhere. He was in two of your classes, English and Biology. You’re thankful that your English teacher had assigned setting by last name. You were far away from him but your eyes would still find him. Looking at the back of his head and averting your eyes when he looks back at you. It didn’t help that he decided to be your lab partner for biology.

He sat down next to you, throwing his books down without saying a word. He doesn’t know why he can’t stay away. Rafe feels like something is wrong but at the same time he wants to figure out what. It’s the reason why he sat next to you and why he notices the things you do. He tries to play it off as if he gets close to you that he’ll likely get with your twin. If only he knew it was actually you.

The two of you watch each other in the cafeteria as you eat. Eyes meeting and looking away just to look back. At this point Rafe thinks you're gay, he has nothing wrong with that, it's not his type though. His friends are talking around him but his brain is playing a game of tennis. Throwing ideas out left and right.

Maybe you are just socially awkward and that's why you act like that around him. Or you are from some freaky conservative family that sheltered you for too long. All his thoughts just keep playing in his mind, every interaction on display to dissect. This game of cat and mouse continues for the first week you are there. You are just counting down the days until you can leave.

The stress of not getting caught has been eating you alive. Both of your parents have been texting you to go to their house since you weren’t there the following week. They think you are still staying at the other parents house. A risky plan but they only talk to each other when you do something they don’t like or when Max does good in something. The idea of them finding out has been eating you alive. 

You had called Max, anxiety getting the best of you. “What do you want?” The call is a little fuzzy, his international plan seems to be only doing okay. “You need to come home like now. I can’t keep doing this.” You can hear people talking in the background of his call. He says something to them and the noise dies down. “Listen it’s just one more week you can do it.”

“Max no you need to come home. Mom and dad keep asking me to come home. What if they find out?” If he was there right now he would slap the back of your head to have your senses come back. You’ve always had the flare for dramatics in his eyes. “Relax mom and dad arent going to find out. I’ll be back before they even notice. Just one more week.” You give in knowing that he won’t come back.

In the hallway Rafe was making his way to his room after coming back from a run. He was in the middle of taking his headphones off when he heard voices coming from your room. Curiosity got the better of him and he moved closer to the door, resting an ear on it to get a better shot. He heard it all, from the begging of your brother to come back to him saying he’ll be back in a week. What he can’t really understand is the voices.

Without a doubt he believes the female voice to be you, Max’s twin sister. What he can’t wrap his head around is the male voice on the other end. In his mind he knows that it’s you, it had to be. But the voice sounds different, the tone and octave aren’t the same that he’s been hearing. It's confusing to say the least. He goes to his room when he hears the call end, piecing together all the information that he knows. Which isn’t much.

You get awkward around him when he tries to talk to you in class, acting like a pre-teen who can’t talk to girls. Now that he thinks about it there’s a good chance you are gay. He catches you checking him out in English and the lunch room. Always tables away with your eyes glued to him. Then there are the times where he will see you blush at something he says. Rafe knows he’s a good looking guy. Girls were constantly throwing themselves at him before his dad sent him off to this shit hole.

He ignores the rest of his thoughts as he winds down from his run. Taking the necessary post workout vitamins and shakes he has. During this time you had made your way to the bathroom. Having to share a communal bathroom has not been ideal for this situation. The only times you can shower is super early in the morning and late at night. Since you are not a morning person, night showers it is. 

Peaking your head out your door you check the hallway to make sure no one is coming. Once the coast is clear you book it to the bathroom, running into the shower stalls. The stalls don’t have doors, just two curtains. You would think for the amount of money it takes to go here they would have better showering options. You strip in the first section letting the water heat up. When the water is hot enough you get in. Even for the lousy coverage they do have nice showers.

It was large enough to have double the space needed. There was a detachable shower head that had amazing water pressure. Plus a little bench to keep your stuff on not only in the changing space but the shower as well. Let’s just say that these showers have been the highlight to all of this mess. You get under the running stream, the water coats your body. Warming you up as you stand under the stream.

You go through your routine. Washing your hair you start to hum to a song that’s been stuck in your head. Getting lost in the moment you sign the lyrics softly, switching to different songs that randomly popped up. You were so distracted that you didn’t hear that someone had walked into the bathroom. Rafe had come in to wash away the sweat from his run when he heard singing. 

He stopped for a moment when he realized it wasn’t a guy singing. That or this poor guy’s balls haven’t dropped. He walks closer to where the sound is coming from. Making sure to keep his footsteps light. The last thing he wants is for the person to hear him and stop. He stops in front of the stall where the voice is coming from. Yeah there’s definitely a chick in there he thinks. Without really thinking about what he’s doing and how he’s close to becoming a creep. He pulls the first curtain aside, walking in. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

You let out a small scream, scared from the sound of Rafe’s voice. You stand there frozen not knowing what to do. You’ve been caught, the person on the other side obviously knows you aren’t a guy. “Well?” You let yourself grab the curtain, pulling it around you so you can look at the person. “I’m so sorry. It’s a really long story actual-” Your words die when you see who it is. Rafe.

He’s as shocked as you are, both of you have wide eyes. “Your Max’s twin.” Then he says your name, to double check he had it right. “What the fuck are you doing here.” You want to answer, you really do. But his towel is hanging low on his waist, his toned stomach on display. That’s when it clicked to him, Max wasn’t gay because it wasn’t Max. It was you.

It all makes so much sense now. “Max wanted to go on vacation so he had me pretend to be him.” You don’t look him in the eyes. Mostly out of shame of being caught, the other being that you are too busy checking him out. You can’t help but wonder what he looks like without it on. A pink blush graces your cheeks at the thought. The reaction is noticed by Rafe.

He then realizes you are naked behind that curtain. Your wet body is right there for him to grab, only separated by thin plastic. He looks you up and down, mostly seeing your silhouette due to the curtin being slightly white. His dick is getting hard just thinking about you and how wet you must feel. He covers himself with a hand the other holding his shower stuff. “So you’ve been pretending to be him this whole time?”

“Yup.” You clutch the plastic to your chest, the water hitting the back of you. “Well this is awkward now.” He scratches the back of his neck looking at the ground. “I told you that I thought you were hot.” He laughs, shaking his head. When his hand falls back to his side you take it in yours. Hoping that your bicep can help the plastic keep you covered. “It’s okay. I think you're hot too.”

Maybe it's the fact that he has a pretty girl in front of him or the fact he hasn’t been laid in a while since being her, but he’s about to lose control. Fuck he’s been so desperate that he imagined you that night after seeing your photo as he masturbated. This is honestly a dream come true for him. He laces his fingers with yours, placing his things down. 

“You know I read somewhere that we should be saving as much water as we can. Mind if I get in with you?” Rafe never read that anywhere. The only reading he does is when he’s texting or doing school work. You will never catch him reading something about climate change or whatever. You smirk as you look up at him, dropping the curtain to take his towel off. “Mhmmm. Wouldn’t want to be wasteful.” He leans over you, his height allowing him to see all of you as he looks down. 

Your hands graze up his thigh, fingertips dancing along his dick. One of his hands cups your face to bring you in for a kiss, the other plays with a nipple. He backs you up to the wall and deepens the kiss. His hand moving lower to rub your clit. Your hand tightens around him, a moan slipping your lips.

He pulls back to watch your face, wanting to absorb every moan you let out. From the side of his eye he sees the shower head. He smirks down at you, pulling his hand back and taking yours off him. “Is everything okay?” You’re worried something happened and he wants to stop. “Yeah pretty girl it is. Why don’t you sit on that bench for me?” Even though it was a question he meant it as a command.

You hesitate at first, concerned about how sanitary it is. Then you see the look in those pretty blue eyes and your concerns vanish. Sitting down, you watch as he takes the shower head down, switching the stream setting. He’s probably going to regret this later but he kneels down on the tiles. Positioning the shower head between your legs, the strong stream hits your clit. You didn’t see that he adjusted the water temperature so it wasn’t burning hot.

“That feel good?” Your hand flies to his shoulder, nails marking his flesh. “So good.” You moan out, trying to be mindful of your volume. Rafe gently moves the head around, creating circles on your clit. It feels so fucking good. He leans over you, attaching his mouth to one of your nipples. He sucks on it while his unoccupied hand finds your entrance, teasing a finger in you.

Rocking the finger back and forth, he adds a second when he feels you relax around him. The sensation of his mouth, finger, and water is too much. You are biting so hard on your lip to stay quiet that you’re bleeding. You release your lip with a wince, the sharp sting radiates in your bottom lip. Rafe looks up at the sound, eyes clocking the red coming from the cut. “Poor baby.”

He licks the blood, giving a quick suck to your lip to make sure he got everything. “It’s just too much for you, isn't it? Hmm?” He taunts as his fingers increase in speed. Your climax is right there, you can feel it in your fingertips. “Please Rafe. I” You sob rips it’s way out of your throat, your orgasim over powering. You are physically shaking from the intensity but he doesn’t let up. He keeps the water right where it is, his fingers increase their pace. He goes back to sucking on your nipples. You try to tell him it’s too much but all that comes out is moans. 

It feels like your orgasim is never ending. Then with one more stroke to your g-spot you were gushing. Rafe takes the shower head away, still fingering you to get you to squirt more. You keep drenching him, his fingers now rubbing your clit furiously only making it worse. He drops the shower head, his hand shooting up to cover your mouth. Silencing you moans as the last bit comes gushing out of you. You’re spent, body limp from that earth shattering orgasim.

“That was so fucking hot.” Rafe bends down and starts to lick you clean. Dying to get a taste of you. You push his head away from how sensitive you are. Your clit feels like it’s on fire. He pulls you up and turns you around to bend over on the bench. He’s not going to last long, he was close to blowing his loud just watching you. There’s just no way in hell he’s giving up his only chance to fuck you.

Before you could protest he’s already slipping in. You’re so wet that he slides right in and bottoms out. He gives you a second to adjust and then he’s ramming his hip into you. You’re still sensitive so your next release builds up quickly. He wants to be embarrassed from how fast he comes, he really does. He just can’t find it in him to really care.

You feel so good wrapped around him, your walls constricting him so tight. He barely had room to keep fucking you as you second orgasim ripped through you. He quickly followed, pulling himself out and jerking off so he could paint your ass. It’s okay because he’ll wash it off of you in a second. You get up after getting your bearings and the two of you wash off. “That was really fucking good.” You dream out loud. 

Rafe gives you a kiss, nibbling on your lips. You wince due to the cut. “Sorry.” He gives it a kiss better. “Same time tomorrow?” You smile and nod.

Safe to say the following week was spent sneaking off at any given chance you had.

[cattordi]

1. the new neighbor 🥥

a/n 𓇼 hey lovies

summary 𓇼 after returning to the obx, you rent the cameron’s guest house; forcing you into close proximity with your ex boyfriend— rafe.

pairings 𓇼 pogue!reader x exbf!rafecameron

warnings 𓇼 this is only the first part so just angst, not proofread, mentions of drugs

˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺｡° ˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺｡° ˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹

“my dad said our guest house is ready for you when you get here.” sarah emphasized on the phone call you were on.

“okay. thank you so much sarah.” you say into the phone. both you and sarah bid your goodbyes and hangup. grabbing your suitcase, and other bags, you open the door of the uber you ordered, leave the airport and head to: the outer banks.

outer banks was your home…. until you moved to new york in hopes of living a less divided life. during your time living in the obx, your parents both passed, you spent your time with pogues, but ultimately was in love with and dated a kook— rafe.

he was another reason you left. during the 2 years you two dated, it was all perfect.. until he got into drugs.

you never understood the toll drugs could have on someone until rafe started getting violent, his emotions were all over the place, he became impulsive, and relied on coke to make him happy.

so you packed your things and left with no note behind or anything. rafe did reach out sarah didn’t talk to you for awhile but eventually she understood your reasoning.

after an hour of driving, you’re finally driving though figure 8. big houses come into view along with boats. another 15 minutes go by and you’re pulling into the entrance of taneyhill.

you grab your phone and text sarah “i’m outside” before collecting your bags, thanking the driver, and walking towards the door.

sarah and rose greet you at the front door. both engulfing you in hugs. “jesus y/n i’ve missed you so much. you don’t understand” sarah says.

“i’ve missed you guys too. where’s wheezie?” you ask

both of their faces go staid before rose says, “she’s with rafe actually. they went out in the boat.”

you smile softly, a bit hurt at the sound of his name, “well that sounds nice. i hope they’re having fun”

silence falls within the three of you before ross breaks in saying, “let’s get you into your house, kay?”

you smile again, sarah grabs your things, and you head towards the adjoining guest house.

𓇼

the rest of your night goes by smoothly, no rafe encounters and you quickly remembered how much you enjoyed outer banks.

the next morning you wake up and do your everyday morning routine, with plans of going on your morning run. you throw your hair in a pony tail, pull on running shorts, an oversized t-shirt, and running shoes before leaving the guest house and walking over to the cameron’s house.

as quietly as you can, you fill your water bottle with ice and water until—

“what’re you doing?” a deep voice says from behind you, almost making you drop your bottle. you turn and see rafe. his family is illuminated by the sun seeping through the blinds. his blue eyes watch you. he’s wearing grey sweatpants and no shirt.

“i’m filling my water bottle rafe.”

“no what are you doing? here?”

“i decided to come back home” you begin while closing your bottle, “i missed it here.”

“you’re so full of shit.”

your eyebrows scrunch as you roughly—slam the bottle on the counter. “what’s that supposed to mean rafe?”

“you just left and now you just back. bull-fucking-shit. get someone else to believe your manipulative ass, because it won’t be me.”

“luckily,” you start and begin to walk towards the door, leading back out, “i don’t need your approval.”

you hear him follow you, “you need to leave y/n. you left before so it shouldn’t be hard now.”

that one hit you straight in the heart because you quickly turn around and say, “really rafe? i left? you mentally fucking left our relationship way before i did. but if blaming me makes you fucking feel better so be it. but until i can get a place of my own, we just need to agree to stay out of each others way.”

“y’know what? whatever.” rafe curses and rolls his eyes. he goes to turn leave but stops, “also, nice shirt y/n”

with that he leaves and slams the door behind him, leaving you confused until you look down to see you’re wearing his shirt.

[fraugwinska]

Hello Springflower~

*slams envelope on the table and stare you into your soul whispering*

Alastor x reader where reader is asking him to show off as a fake "couple" because of one sinner who just won't stop annoying reader. Al agreed to help his dear friend and it started of innocent and cute with hand holding, kiss on the cheek- when SUDDENLY he kiss reader (in front of the sinner ofc) INTENSE and when he just stops for a second to kiss her neck she's like: "Al...? He's gone."

And he is like: "how disapointing"~

And just GOES ON

*leaves a heart cupcake next to the envelope and runs away*

For you - anything, sweet summer child. This just flowed out of me, and I was kicking my own feet as I wrote it. So... Here you go ;> I sincerely hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Fake it 'till you Make it

The door slammed into it's frame with a bang so loud the glasses in it rattled. You panted, heart pounding hard in your chest as you tried to calm your erratic breathing. With shaking fingers you gripped the dark, wooden frame, so tight your nails scratched the furnishing off. You peered out of the yellow and red stained glasses, trying to identify the distorted shapes from the outside. Did he follow you? Was he still out there?

„What's...“

You felt a hand on your shoulder and reacted without thinking. You turned around with a shocked scream and whipped your arm out for a forceful slap. The sound reverberated around in the empty room as a slight stinging sensation ran through your palm. It snapped you back to reality and made you pause.

You blinked as your gaze went from your own, trembling hand, which now burned in an angry, red hue to a taupe face, the shadow of your handprint next to a wide, yellow smile. Your breath seemed to freeze as your eyes went up and finally met a pair of wide, burgundy ones.

"...the matter, dear?" Alastor finished, blinking before his face shifted slightly.

You stood speechless and frozen for a hot second, trying to recollect your thoughts before a tidal wave of emotion washed over your head. Embarrassment, followed by shock and, suddenly, by the sensation that started to build in your chest, the threat to bubble over in tears.

„Oh satan, Alastor, I-I'm so sorry. I, shit, I got you bad, I'm so sorry, th-there was.. and I was.."

You choked down another sob, words and feelings clogging up in your mouth. You rubbed at your stinging eyes, blinking away what you were trying desperately not to show. You thought it would have worked at least until Alastor's slender hands came up to wrap around your wrist and pull them away gently.

"Are you a singer, dear?" he chimed, his face unmoved, but his eyes softening a little. "Because that really was quite the hit! Ha ha!"

When you didn't join in his laugh, he immediately snapped out of it.

"But it seems my little joke was out of place, once again. What has you so rattled, little one?"

And this time, he actually made space and dropped the joke-y act, looking a bit worried. Which only added more pressure to the well in your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut to hold back any tears that tried to fight their way through, making yourself feel ridiculous.

"It's... there's this guy."

You swallowed sour spit down, licking your lips quickly before opening your mouth again, voice less shaky than you were feeling. "I saw him two weeks ago when I went grocery shopping with Niffty. He... he asked us for directions, I didn't know where the place he wanted to go was, and that was that. But ever since..."

Alastor's frown deepened. "Ever since then..?" he prompted carefully.

"...he kind of... pops up whenever I leave the hotel... he just shows up out of nowhere and asks me things. Follows me, doesn't listen when I tell him to leave me alone, doesn't know boundaries.." you balled your fists again, brows twitching down at the thought. "And today.. he tried to grab me, and I panicked, and I kicked him and he looked like..."

You looked back to the glasses.

"...it felt as if he was about to do something."

Alastor stared into you with these piercing eyes. It wasn't creepy, you didn't feel scrutinized or looked down on, and this wasn't the first time. Still, you felt that strange sense of unease in his intense gaze, like a cold hand was wrapped around your spine, running shivers down your back. It wasn't uncomfortable, per se, just... different. It had been months since you started your new job in the Hazbin Hotel as a bellhop, helping Charlie and Vaggie out in general. You weren't one to believe in redemption, but the work was easy, the residents nice and life, despite being dead, was good. It wasn't exactly peaceful, since living together with the radio demon sometimes had its challenges, but Alastor proved time after time that even if he could be quite eccentric, he was a good man deep down, funny and smart and interesting. Someone you could consider a friend.

That, however, didn't mean that he didn't spook you from time to time. He straightened his shoulders, brushed out imaginary dust from the sleeves of his suit, and when he spoke, there was an unmoving threat in his voice that he almost always hid behind his grins.

"He attempted to harm you?"

You furrowed your brows and stepped closer, leaving a little bit of space between you.

"I don't know... it felt like that. I didn't give it enough time to find out, I just ran back here."

"Smart girl.", he just commented, leaning over you to also watch the street through bulky glasses. You sighed and glanced out the windows. The sky had dimmed, red tinting the streets as it always did down here in the evenings. A few stray sinners stumbled along, either searching for a victim for the night or going home from their own sins. Still no trace of the demon. You could still feel the hot air of his breath on your neck when he bent forward. You grimaced at the thought of the stench of his sweat on the sleeves of your jacket.

"God... how am I going to go anywhere with him around?", you muttered to yourself, stepping back further and leaning against the table, burying your face into your hands. Alastor perked up at that. He tapped his cane against the floor.

"Oh, well I can't in good conscience allow my dear employee to fear the streets of the pentagram because of a silly pest."

You didn't catch his meaning. At least, not immediately. You shot a glance his way, giving him a skeptical look, furrowing a brow in confusion. "What do you-?"

He waved his cane, cutting you off, and put an arm around your shoulders. "I shall accompany you, then. When you need to go out, let me know and we'll show ourselves together. That sinner will get the gist then, I'm sure."

Your eyes widen. "Alastor, you're a genius!" you say with excitement as the thought slowly took root in your head, "If this creep thinks we're a couple, he might stay away."

"A what now?", Alastor asks, his smile faltering ever so slightly. However, his question was lost in your sudden enthusiasm, your excited rush of thoughts now loud and clear in your voice. "Then we should play the role in every aspect. We have to give off couple vibes, maybe show some PDA, nothing overboard, I know you don't like that kind of stuff, but holding hands might be believable enough. Oh, you're the best, Alastor."

"Yes, yes... so I've been told...", he replied with the usual giddy tone, although his voice sounded a little thick with white static.

You didn't pay much attention to it though, feeling a weight drop from your shoulders at the prospect of keeping the nuisance at bay. The whole idea might seem a bit strange to the others, but if it helped, why not?

***

"Well then, darling, ready to give the performance of your lifetime?", Alastor called the moment you exited the elevator. He was practically hopping over, grinning at you with a mixture of smugness, amusement and... something else. His smile grew, showcasing his pointed, sharp teeth with a flash. He was looking as dapper as always, dress coat neat and perfectly in place, cane ready at his hands - the radio demon as he breathed and lived.

"I hope so..." you muttered distractedly while straightening the hem of your uniform and peeking around the lobby. It was early morning and you had a not-so-short list of errands to run for the hotel. Alastor had been nonchalant about the trip when you asked him to accompany you last night, and you had half-assumed he had some matters of his own to tend to, or just flat-out backing out. But he just waved his hands and told you he'd be there at 8 a.m. sharp, which he was. In ALL the ways.

As it turned out the rumors of your plan must have traveled down the hotel grapevines fast and after a small bang and a hissed “Sssshhh!” from the left you saw the curious faces of Charlie, Niffty and Angel poking out the kitchen door, spying from afar and watching you and Alastor with bated breaths and loud-yet-shushed giggles.

"Don't tell me you're having a second thoughts on me accompanying you, dear.", Alastor stepped closer, wrapping his fingers around your hand in a tight grip, either oblivious to the audience or utterly non-fazed by them. You shook your head no, grimacing a little as your body tensed up in a bit of... concern. Not because of what you were about to do, no, it had everything and nothing to do with him and the... um. Hand. Touching.

"We can hear you, you know.", you hissed in the direction of the whispered squeals at his gesture, face scrunching up when a peal of giggling broke out and Angel audibly snorted through a quickly closed door. "Jus' be careful, tits, if 'ya go further than that with the oldtimer 'ya might need to buy some protection while 'ya out."

***

The plan was quite simple, but you guessed it had the possibility of either working like a charm or the idiot getting so mad, he could lose it and try something stupid.

Nevertheless, with Alastor on your side you didn't feel as paranoid and suffocated about leaving the grounds of the hotel. And his idea had worked out brilliantly so far. Not a single sign of your stalker, you had only met the usual faces on the main market road of the Pentagram City - maybe they stared a little more... okay, a LOT more, seeing you arm in arm with Al - and you ran into Angels' friend, Cherri Bomb, when you had to get some permits renewed. She had been friendly but extremely surprised and curious about since when you and Alastor, THE Radio demon were parading around 'like a pair of fuckin' newlyweds', in her words.

Alastor tried to brush her off with a monotone "What can I say? The good Lady just adores my presence.", squeezing your hand a little tighter, but his answer didn't satisfy her, so Cherri tried to pry into you, raising a brow and shooting you a smirk. "Al is a fun guy and interesting to talk to and spend time with. I like his company.", you shrugged, signing a paper, avoiding looking the cyclops into the eyes while you felt your ears redden.

It took her a good minute of blank stare, but when her grin slowly grew wider, you had no choice but to warn her with a hard stare and a small shake of your head. She rolled her one eye but she made a gesture of sealing the lips, still oogling the connection of your hands with impish delight.

At that moment you felt a squeeze on the hand, still in Alastor's grasp and his heavy stare from your right. His smile seemed fixed, a bit on the strained side, although his gaze remained cheerful.

"Everything wrapped up here, dearest?" he asked, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Almost done, just this document and the hotel can continue to serve alcohol. Husk would give me one hell of a shot if I'd forget that one."

You looked over to see if Alastor would pick up on the joke, but he was staring intently somewhere over your shoulder, so you just filed the form quickly and waved your friend goodbye. He quickened his steps, almost dragging you away as he paced down the street. You almost tripped over you own feet, trying to keep up with him.

"I think your persistent little pursuer has found us, darling. Don't look, just walk."

You sped up, also feeling a presence that had been on your heels a little longer than comfortable, a weighty silence behind your back. Still, as you rounded a corner, you just had to take a tiny peek and you saw, from the corner of your eyes, that the deranged looking coyote was gaining on you, still keeping his distance, his figure only a dark, moving smudge in the distance.

"Um... I guess now's a good time for a Plan B.", you said, halting in front of an antique shop.

Alastor's hand slid a bit lower, only his fingers curled around yours now, his warm touch tingling. "I'm thinking of it. Knowing your weak stomach, darling, bloodshed is out of the question?" he inquired, acting overly interested in a vintage gramophone showcased in the shop window and you snorted.

"You remember that?"

"Dear, it's hard to forget the amount of bile Niffty had to clean out of the dishwasher after you ran into my cooking...experiment."

"Not my proudest moment...", you laughed nervously, feeling cold sweat gather up on your back as you saw the rabid looking demon from the corner of your eye, creeping closer and closer. Alastor gave you a long, thoughtful look, before he spoke again, quietly and serious.

"Then let us both hope you'll stomach Plan B better."

Before you could think much, Alastor turned towards you, untangling his fingers from yours. His now freed hand cupped your cheek, and before you could say anything, he bowed down, tilting his head a bit to the side and gently pressed his ever-smiling lips against yours.

It was not your first kiss in your afterlife, but it might have very well been, seeing as your first response was an electric jolt up your spine. And this reaction wasn't even the weirdest part if the actual kissing part was just some peck. This wasn't a peck. A kiss with lips unmoving wasn't a kiss, it was more of a mouth-touching. This was something way more.

As surprising as the kiss was the tenderness with which he brought his lips to yours. It was gentle and yet so sensual that it sent small currents all over your skin, causing your eyes to close, goosebumps to form along your arms and a nervous flutter to erupt in the pit of your stomach. And maybe, maybe it lasted for just a fraction of the eternity it felt like, but if someone would have asked you later, you would swear he stole more than just a taste with the kiss. The slight push and pull between your mouths left the edges of your skin numb, the press of his smooth and heated mouth stirring up a peculiar feeling inside you that kept growing and rising and..

What was the reason for this again?

Oh yeah, your stalker.

Stalker.

You opened your eyes, seeing Alastor's burning red eyes fixated on something behind you, his expression intense with the hint of arrogance, a possessive smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Something about that, the feel, the look in his eyes, made the back of your neck prickle. You blushed a little bit more but caught onto the reason the moment you realized what he was doing, trying to break the kiss to see where the coyote was.

You could only turn your head far enough to see the quickly shrinking silhouette of the demon vanishing in the distance, before Alastor brought his other hand to your waist, pulling you closer together, his tongue slipping between your lips, coaxing your lips to open again. Your own tongue responded and, together they mingled and twined with one another, sending the nerve-ending of your lips into a pleasant tingling sensation.

"A-Alas...tor...", you tried to get the words out as he nipped your lower lip, your eyes falling into those bright, heavy lidded ones of his, eyes which you couldn't stop looking into.

"He.. he's gone."

"Mh. Pity...", Alastor breathed with a soft hum, his chest rumbling at his words. His response had a mixture of sarcasm and amusement in it, but before you could properly ponder on them, your entire mind short-circuited when you realized he made no move to pull away.

Quite the opposite - with his hand sliding to your neck he pulled you onto his mouth again, deepening the kiss as his tongue slipped past your lips once more, completely shutting your mind down as a quiet, heartbreaking moan escaped your throat.

The fact that you two were in public, still standing in front of some store, all on display for anyone that might come down the road, didn't register in the haze that was slowly, so pleasantly slowly, forming. So lost were you in that fog of heat that the surroundings suddenly got distorted, leaving the alley, the store, the city completely. Your head spun at the sensations, a tremble raked across your nerves as your knees grew weak at the sound of his playful voice, echoing in the void you found yourself in.

"Let's draw it out a little more, darling, hm? Just to make sure."

[voxslays]

GOODNIGHT, MY LOVE

Featuring >>> Lucifer x Reader; In which, an attempt to kill baby Charlie goes south. Resulting in a soporific curse placed upon the reader, who struggles to deal with the aftermath of its affects.

Part Four Part Six

A/N: I wanna explain something really quick- i wrote how Lucifer lost his wings when he fell, which isn’t confirmed to be canon or not, however, I saw a theory about it (which I agreed with) and that’s why it’s in this chapter.

Lucifer wasn’t okay. It had been seven long, agonizing years since that fateful day—the one where you were lost to a sleeping curse cast by (Lucifer’s own brother, and also) heaven’s angels, the supposed divine beings. Lucifer had become a shell of his former self, consumed by grief and regret. He barely ate or slept, spending his days locked away in his workshop, tinkering with various rubber duckies to pass the time. He had never told Charlie what had happened to you—it was much too painful…and it was better this way. Charlie was too young to understand at the time, and even now it would still hit her hard, like a tornado. So Lucifer carried the weight of your untimely demise to himself, never outright confirming nor denying your fate. But Lucifer knew it was time to visit you—he just had to.

Inside was a beautiful atrium, surrounded by all of your favorite flowers. There were large apple trees that grew golden apples (that never rot, (thanks to the backflipping rubber duck 3000!)) and invasive rose bushes. Lucifer had never planted the roses, but it seemed wherever you went, roses followed. His steps echo softly across the marble floor as he walks through the atrium, marveling at the golden apples glistening in the moonlight filtering through the stained-glass roof.

The sweet scent of roses fills his nostrils, bringing back vivid memories he's fought so hard to suppress. "My love…" In the middle of the atrium is a glass coffin-like case. What was inside? You. You looked as peaceful as ever, as though you were only taking a small slumber. Lucifer approaches the glass coffin cautiously, his reflection shimmering on the polished surface. Inside lies your sleeping form, frozen in time. Your hair fanned out beneath your head, your skin almost luminescent under the ethereal light as your chest slowly rises and falls.

In your hand lies a simple yet elegant bouquet of white roses, which continue slowly rise up and down as you softly breathe. You're not dead—at least, not really. You're trapped in an eternal slumber, frozen in time. You don’t move in your sleep at all, the only sign of life is your shallow breathing—yet Lucifer refuses to let you go. How could he? The two of you have been together for thousands of years. That’s not something you can easily erase.

Lucifer reaches out, placing his gloved hand against the glass, gently looking at the white roses in your grasp. He slowly raises up his other hand, looking at his golden wedding band—before his eyes flick down to the golden wedding band on your own finger, mirroring his own. He remembers the day he slipped it on, all the joy, the happiness—now replaced by endless sorrow and loneliness. He straightens up, his mind racing with questions and unspoken words.

He ungloves his hand, pressing his bare white palm against the cool glass, as if trying to reach through to hold your hand. He stares at the rings, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Still married, aren't we?” His voice cracks slightly, emotion barely contained as he stares at your sleeping face through the glass. "You always wanted white roses, remember? I used to tease you about it…" His voice trails off, lost in memory "You always looked so beautiful next to them.”

His other hand reaches up, tracing the glass over your cheek softly. Tears threaten to fall as he continues speaking, voice thick with emotion "Do you dream of me? Or are you trapped… lost in some eternal, peaceful oblivion?" He asks, as if expecting an answer he’ll never get. Lucifer’s thumb gently strokes the outer surface of the glass over your sleeping form, creating tiny rainbows from the moonlight reflecting through the stained glass above. "When we fell… I thought losing my wings would be my greatest punishment. But now…” He pauses, trying (and failing) to keep his composure. “Now I know there's nothing worse than existing without you."

His voice breaks slightly as he looks at your peaceful face, a single tear finally falling down his cheek. “I miss you…” He stands there for a long moment, tears streaming down his face as he looks at you, lost in his grief. Finally, he turns away, walking back through the atrium, leaving the glass coffin behind, the sound of his quiet sobs echoing through the castle halls. "Goodnight, my love…"

[wooziorgans]

moon song || ljh

warnings: post breakup au. ex idol!reader. reader has an implied suicide attempt(s) in the past. reader is implied to do something akin to relapsing at the end of the fic. ed talk. lots of pressure that comes w being an idol. clubs. drinking. seungcheol hates y/n for leaving. leaving the idol industry behind. seeing your ex after four years. hurt w very little comfort. right person, wrong time.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: vent piece mostly. abt my frustration of still being sick, abt my frustration of not seeming to get better, abt how it never seems to stop. abt all of my wasted potential as a person. all of it, none of it, everything and nothing at all. i am so tired.

please read with caution. this is just a lot of emotions all in one place.

The loud bass that hits your head as soon as you enter the club makes your head pound immediately. It’s been four long years since you’ve even been in this part of Seoul, let alone been in a club with this group of ex-colleagues.

Ex-colleagues is certainly one way to put it. They were all so much more, and you know that this is just an excuse for all of them to get drunk. You wonder briefly if Jihoon’s here. He never used to drink, but then again, he didn’t do a lot of things until you were in the picture. You wonder how much has changed now that you’re not.

The memory of him burns like a hot iron branding your back, and you head to the nearest table of refreshments to grab a drink. If he’s here, you’ll need all the alcohol you can get your hands on. Maybe that makes you no better than anyone else; no better than the scene you so desperately needed to leave four years ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.

You’re no longer apart of it. What you do now won’t cost you your career. If the night ends with you passed out in an alley way simply because you saw your ex at an album release party for an album he produced, so be it. He never comes to these things anyways.

At least, he didn’t when you knew him. You haven’t known Jihoon for a long time. It’s been four years after all; a lot can change in a week, let alone four years.

Like your decision to leave the K-pop industry. You had mulled over it for weeks, before you brought it up to anyone, and you didn’t go to Jihoon first. He was the last person you told. At least, officially, that you were leaving.

All those years of work as a trainee, just for it to be nothing. All of the tears, the angry screams into your pillow, the poverty your company forced you into in the first few years of your career because it was boarding on bankruptcy. All of this wasted potential. Maybe you could’ve been someone great.

You were, for a few years. Your group took off, and the first few years of success made all of the hard work feel like it was worth something. But as the saying goes, too much of a good thing won’t be good for long.

The pressure started to build, and it built until it boiled over and you were found on the verge of doing something terrible in your bathroom by your boyfriend and your manager after a week of unusual silence. Jihoon never was a crier, but god did he sob as he held you in the back of the ambulance. He had never begged for anything the way he begged for you to talk to him.

Please, god, please talk to me Y/N. Please, baby. I can’t— I can’t lose you.

It’s funny, really, how things work out. You dug yourself so deep into this hole of despair from the pressure of being an idol, that the only way out of it was to completely separate yourself from that life and start over.

After terminating your contract, you broke up with Jihoon. Or, you didn’t break up with him, only told him that you needed to take a break while you sorted yourself out. After being on a break for four years, is it still just a break? Or are you broken up at that point?

Both you and Jihoon know the answer to that.

Three years of no social media, no articles about you, none of your old friends reaching out to check in on you because they held a contractual obligation to be nice to you in the hallways. Three and a half years out of the spotlight. Three and a half years of peace, of healing, of sorting your life out and learning how to breathe again.

It’s been four years without Jihoon, and you didn’t really think much about the consequences that potentially sharing a space with him would have. But now they’re suffocating. All you can think about is the potential possibility of him being here, which, he wouldn’t be, right? He hates these kinds of gatherings. He used to skip his own release parties to watch shitty romance movies with you on the couch in his studio.

Does he have someone new to watch romance movies with? Or has he given up romance altogether? You know from the first few months, updates provided by Soonyoung, that he didn’t take the distance very well. You know that he missed you, and he worried about you constantly. You know you’re spiralling, and you know all those years of therapy will be for nothing if you don’t pull yourself out of it.

You don’t have to do that, because Seungkwan does it for you. “Y/N? You came!” He seems elated that you’re here, off his rocker, probably drunk.

“Of course I came! It’s your first album as BSS, Seungkwan.” You smile, and it’s not forced at all. You have completely forgotten how easy it is to fall into banter with Seungkwan. It’s almost like you never left in the first place.

Except something in his eyes seems off. That’s your first red flag to turn around and get the fuck out of this club, but you don’t. “My god. It’s been so long. How are you doing?” With anyone else, the small talk would’ve taken you out back and killed you. It’s different with Seungkwan.

Different how? He was one of the only people who consistently checked in on you when you first left. As you settled into your new life, the texts became less frequent; now, four years later they’re hardly anything to notice, but he’ll still send you a text on every holiday, and he’s wished you happy birthday every year since you met him.

“I’m doing a lot better. I’m… I’m good.” You laugh softly. Seungkwan smiles at you.

“That’s good. I’ve missed having you around— of course I don’t expect you to come back into this scene, but it would be nice to see you sometime.” Seungkwan squeezes your shoulder softly and smiles wider.

“Yeah, of course. I know I’ve been gone, but I’ll make it less hard to get a hold of me. I’ve missed all of you, truth be told.” You smile back. “I’ve just… been doing a lot of healing and I think it’s about time I finally start reconnecting with people. Is everyone here?” You ask.

“Oh, yeah. We’re all here! I kind of spilled that I invited you so everyone decided to come just in case you showed up.” The depth of all doesn’t really seem to cross Seungkwan’s mind; he’s certainly not thinking about Jihoon right now, or Seungcheol for that matter. You’re pretty sure Seungcheol would punch you if he caught sight of you. Maybe Jihoon would too. You have no idea how Jihoon even feels about you.

“Even, uh, Jihoon?” The smile falls from Seungkwan’s face.

“Oh. Yeah. He’s here too.” Seungkwan swallows when he sees your face shift. “You… he-he wants to talk to you. It’s not my place to really say, but he’s not mad. I think he just wants closure.”

So maybe Jihoon wouldn’t punch you. That’s a bit of a relief.

“Oh my god! Y/N! You came!” It’s Seokmin, very clearly drunk. You didn’t keep in contact with him, though he did send you a few paragraphs over text as he wished you all the best, telling you to reach out if you ever needed anything. You didn’t take him up on the offer.

“I did!” You smile, tilting your head as you look up at Seokmin.

“Can I have a hug?” He’s already opening his arms and you slide right into them. His hug is firm and warm. You’ve missed Seokmin a lot more than you cared to admit. Seungkwan grumbles about how he should’ve asked for a hug and you laugh, pulling him into one.

You catch up with Seokmin briefly before he’s being pulled away by someone you don’t know. You stick with Seungkwan, talking about your life, the album, avoiding the subject of Jihoon.

And then you turn your head at the bright sound of laughter, and you see him. You see him, and he’s not the same mess he was when you left him with no promise of when you’d see each other next. He’s not the scared man in his early twenties who had no idea if you were going to die on him. He’s not the man who stayed with you in the hospital for days on end.

He’s not the producer you knew who’d slide his headphones over your ears as he pulled you into his lap. He’s not the warm hand that held yours because you forgot your gloves again. He’s not the hushed giggles at four in the morning, or the hurried kisses, or the soft whimpers and praises as you tangled yourselves in his bedsheets.

Jihoon isn’t yours anymore.

You had hoped he wouldn’t be such a sore subject for you anymore, but seeing him in all of his glory four years later… god does it fucking hurt. You’ve done a lot of healing in the last four years, but in that time you never really had the time to process the loss of Jihoon.

Soonyoung spots you, and that’s when you know you’re doomed, because if Soonyoung is distracted, Jihoon always notices the thing that catches him off guard. You try to pull your eyes away from Jihoon, but you can’t. You swear he’s gotten more beautiful in the last four years.

He’s gotten bigger, physically— far more muscular. You can see the curve of his pecks through his shirt, one that isn’t even tight against his body. Jihoon’s always been a big fitness buff, but it appears he’s put more effort into himself. His biceps strain against the fitted sleeves of his long sleeve black shirt.

Jihoon’s face looks different too. He still has the same round cheeks you used to always pinch and prod at. His jawline is still soft, but it’s more defined. His eyes are bright, and the bags under them are still there. You wonder briefly if he’s ever gotten rid of them; if the skin under his eyes has ever matched the rest of his milky complexion.

His hair is longer than you’ve ever seen it. Dark and flowy, it’s reflective and healthy, half tied up with what would be his undercut hanging freely. A few pieces frame his face. It looks soft and healthy. Jihoon looks soft and healthy.

He’s smiling as he scans the crowd to find what Soonyoung is distracted by, and then he spots you. The smile is wiped off of Jihoon’s face faster than your brain can even register it. Seungkwan stiffens beside you, hand finding your shoulder to steady you as you stumble briefly, but the pull between you and Jihoon is too much.

Both of you start moving towards each other, pushing your way through the crowd. “Y/N.” His voice comes out in a breath, chest heaving and then he’s there, right in front of you, after four years.

You don’t know what to say, can’t process the fact that he’s in front of you, as beautiful as ever. “Jihoon,” you echo, “hi.” You can’t help the small smile that threatens to pull at your lips. The tension on Jihoon’s face eases, but he doesn’t smile back.

“Hi. How are you doing?” Jihoon asks, and if it was anyone else, it would’ve been a sad attempt at small talk. It’s Jihoon, so you know he’s asking how you’re doing now, if you’re better. A part of him is asking if you still feel like killing yourself. The answer to the last part is no.

“I’m… better. A lot better.” You laugh awkwardly. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t doing okay.” Now, Jihoon actually does smile at you, and though it’s small, it’s still there.

“You look a lot better. Healthier. I’m glad.” Jihoon takes a sip of his drink as he looks down at you. He’s right; you’re much healthier now. There’s solid meat on your bones, your thighs touch and your ribs don’t show anymore. Your face has filled out, cheeks full and round. Your eyes don’t look as though they’re sunken into your skull, they’re brighter now; they seem to shine with life in a way they never have before.

Jihoon takes you in properly, and god, you’ve gotten so much more beautiful since the last time he saw you. It hurts. It hurts a lot to see how good you look now, without him. He knows it’s a lot more complicated than that, but it still hurts nonetheless.

You look healthy, like an actual person and not a skeleton, and you were never that way when you were an idol. You were never like that when you were with Jihoon.

“Oh, um, thank you. Should we… should we sit? We have a lot to talk about.” You laugh again to hide your nerves. Jihoon can still read you, and he knows you’re brimming with nerves. He knows you’re a little scared, probably more than a little, and he is too.

You’ve never breached the subject, hardly even talked about your breakup. Jihoon doesn’t like to think about it. He just doesn’t. He doesn’t like to think about how much worse you were doing, even if it destroyed him. The breakup was harder on you, tenfold, and you went through it alone.

“I- uh. Yeah, yeah, we can go sit. It’s probably about time we talk.” Jihoon laughs nervously, closing his eyes for a second. He wordlessly starts walking towards the vacant booths of the club. You follow close behind.

Jihoon sits down, and you take a seat across from him. It’s silent for a few moments. Both of you are staring at your cups, not drinking, just swirling your liquids of choice.

Jihoon speaks first, but he can’t look at you. “Why’d you have to leave me?” He asks, and his voice breaks softly as he says it. You certainly weren’t expecting that as the first question he asked, but you don’t really know what else he would’ve asked.

“I… I had to leave everything that had to do with being an idol behind. You… you included.” It’s a shitty answer, but you can’t think in Jihoon’s presence.

“I understand that, but I would’ve been there for you. I would’ve helped you get help. You didn’t have to do it by yourself, Y/N. I loved you; I would’ve done anything to make sure you were safe.” Jihoon’s bites at his lip, eyes sparkling in the low lights of the club. He looks like he’s about to cry, and god does it break your heart.

He loved you, past tense. It’s jarring. It stings, but what else did you expect? For him to still want you? That’s unrealistic and completely unfair to expect from him.

It hits you then that you might still be in love with him. That makes this next part so much harder.

“I know. I know, but it made sense to me at the time. I can’t- I can’t rationalize anything that I did at that time in my life. None of it makes sense, but I made a lot of choices that I regret and I can’t go back on them now. It’s too late for that and I’m- I’m so sorry for everything I put you through, Jihoon. All of it; everything, god, I’m so sorry.” You spill, and the soft burn in the back of your throat makes it hard to speak as you try not to cry. “You didn’t deserve to deal with any of it.” You whisper softly.

“Y/N,” Jihoon whispers back, “I forgave you a long time ago. I just want closure.” Closure. Jihoon wants closure, meaning he wants to move on. The tears in his eyes shine brightly, though they don’t fall, but he’s crying nonetheless, and that makes you feel worse.

“I don’t deserve that though. I don’t deserve to be forgiven for just leaving you. Seungcheol still hasn’t forgiven me; why the hell would you?” You swallow hard, and that seems to break the dam as the first few tears slip down your cheeks.

“Seungcheol has his own issues. We never told him the full story, and maybe that’s why he’s still… iffy about the whole thing. But I forgive you. I just, I want to stop hiding from you. I don’t want to be worried about running into you somewhere and not knowing what to say. I still care about you, so much, and, god does it fucking kill me to still worry about you when you’ve never made an effort to reach out to me.” Jihoon’s always been blunt, so you should’ve expected this, but it makes you feel worse; guilty. “I would’ve answered your calls, in a heartbeat. You know I would’ve.” Jihoon blinks, and the first few tears fall down his face.

“I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to call you after so long. I spent six months in and out of the hospital, and after that I had to get back on my feet. By the time I even had time to think about calling you, it’d been a year, and to me that was too late.” You close your eyes and exhale deeply, fingers twitching.

Jihoon used to hold your hands when you were upset to stop them from twitching so much. He used to pull your head close to his chest and wipe your tears with the pads of his thumbs. He makes no effort to do so now. Jihoon can’t even look at you properly.

He’s focused on picking at the calluses on his palms. Some things never change.

“You- six months? Y/N, fuck, I had no idea. I knew it was bad but, shit, really?” Jihoon’s voice breaks fully, and all you can do is nod. “How many more times? How many times did you—?” He can’t finish his sentence. His throat closes up.

“Four.” Jihoon has nothing to say in reply. He can’t, not with the deep hurt that settles in his chest, so you elaborate. “I really just wanted to die. The media was on my ass for the first year and it was just bad. I spent the next year after that in a rehabilitation program to fix my relationship with food and it helped a lot. I found a good therapist and I’m still seeing her. It’s helped a lot. I’m- I’m clean.” You pick up your cup, hand shaking, and take a large drink to calm your nerves.

“I’m really glad that you’re healthy now. Really, god, that’s such a relief.” Jihoon’s tears are steady now. He wipes at them with his sleeve. You mutter a soft thank you.

Outside of the booth, the noise has been blocked out by your conversation, but you hear something peculiar. It’s Seungcheol, his voice is loud and booming. He’s angry.

“What the fuck are they doing here?! Seriously, why did you even invite them?” Both you and Jihoon look up at the same time to see Joshua and Mingyu trying to deescalate the situation. Seungkwan is yelling back, face red as he tries to block Seungcheol’s view of the booth you and Jihoon are sat in.

“No, I’ve fucking had it with all of you. Defending them for just fucking leaving Jihoon without a word. What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you bring them here?” Seungcheol is drunk and looking for a confrontation with you, and that’s enough of a threat to have you and Jihoon standing as he tries to usher you out of the club without Seungcheol seeing.

“Fuck, you should probably go.” Jihoon pulls you close to him, shielding you from Seungcheol’s view. You nod, walking fast beside him as you push your way through the crowd.

“Yah! You, get the fuck back here!” Neither of you listen as you push your way out of the door. You make the mistake of looking behind you to see Joshua and Mingyu physically holding Seungcheol back. Wonwoo is there now too, standing in front of him to prevent him from walking.

The outside air is cold and bitter. You shiver as you pull out your phone to order a ride. You and Jihoon are completely silent. He’s standing so close to you that you can feel his body heat radiating off onto you.

“I’ll wait with you. How long?” He asks, voice shaky.

“Two minutes.” You only have two minutes left with Jihoon. It’s so finite, the time you’re spending with him. If only you had more time.

You’re not afforded that luxury as you shiver beside him. “Can I- is it okay if I—?” You nod, unsure of what he’s asking. It’s a yes either way. Jihoon pulls you into his arms in a tight, warm hug. His hands don’t find their way into your hair, or rub your back. He just holds you. It’s all he can do.

Both of you ignore the mutual swell of warmth in your chests. You’re still in love with him, you know that, and that’s why the car seems to show up in no time. Your phone chimes as the car pulls up in front of the club as you reluctantly start to separate yourselves.

There’s so much you didn’t get to talk about. You tell him so. “We, fuck, I had so much more to say. I had so much more to explain. You, god, you were the right person, Jihoon. Everything else was just so wrong.” You thought the weight would’ve been lifted off your chest, but it only hurts more. You close your eyes as you turn away.

“Y/N, fuck, don’t do this to me right now.” Jihoon whispers, eyes filling with tears once again.

“I’m sorry Jihoon. I love you. I’ll see you around.” You open the door to the car.

“I, yeah. Take care of yourself.” Jihoon can’t look at you, no way in hell can he look at you as you close the door and drive off. He stands still in the cold, watching as the car disappears from his sight. He leans against the wall, head falling back as the tears start pouring freely.

As he pushes the door to the club open, it hits him hard, fills his whole body as a bone deep love for you settles. And it hurts, god does it hurt. Seungcheol’s calmed down, but the snide remark that slips past his lip doesn’t even register in Jihoon’s brain. All Jihoon recognizes is his tone, and that’s enough.

“I’ll punch you right in your fucking mouth, Seungcheol, I swear to god. Shut the fuck up.” Jihoon hardly ever makes threats, but when he does it has everyone going quiet. Seungcheol, Joshua and Mingyu stop in their tracks. There’s been enough drama for one night.

Jihoon grabs a new drink and chugs it, before he goes to grab his coat. He needs to get out of here before the sob building in his throat bursts.

You manage to keep your tears at bay until you enter your apartment. You find yourself in the bathroom, against the cold tile and the porcelain of the bathtub. You don’t do anything, just sit there and breathe as the tears flow freely.

It wasn’t supposed to end like that. You were supposed to have more time to reconcile with Jihoon. You and bathrooms have seen a lot of hurt. Most of your bad decisions are made in bathrooms. You don’t do anything, you just sit there for a few minutes as you cry.

Nothing happens the next night. Or the night after. A week after the release party, Jihoon still plagues your mind and that’s when you crack. Your old manager turned friend answers the phone.

“Hi. You okay?” Yena asks softly, voice ridden with sleep.

“Drive me to the hospital? I think I need stitches.” You laugh nervously. The adrenaline has worn off and all you feel is regret.

“Y/N.” She sighs, but it’s not disappointment. She’s seen a lot of things with you, and supported you through all of them. You’re the reason she quit being a manager and went back to university. You made her realize the idol life isn’t as glamorous as it seems, and you’ve formed a very solid friendship over the past five years. “You know they’re gonna keep you for a few days, right?”

“Yeah. I know. It was impulsive. Like, I’m fine now. I just couldn’t stop thinking.” You sigh.

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll be on the way. Cold water and pressure until I get there, yeah?” You laugh softly.

“Already on it.” The call disconnects soon after, and you look up at the mirror. Briefly, you imagine Jihoon standing behind you in a much different situation than the one you’re in now.

His thick arms are wrapped around your waist, head leaning against yours. He’s smiling in your vision. You smile softly in your reflection, though it’s strained. The blood on your hands pulls you out of it.

a/n: i wrote this when i was going through it. i’m fine now but i seriously can’t do angst like i used to so i might write a part two or something where they end up back together.

[xoxochb]

i begggggggg u to do a percy x socially awk reader where percy realises she has like 3 default emotes like “real” “what the flip 😨😨” “🤷‍♀️” or smth and like teases her abt it 🙏🙏🙏

— that one convo

warnings: none pairing: percy jackson x socially awkward! reader a/n: “wow this fic is very detailed with strong loathing for social interactions” yeah it’s because I’m projecting 🥰

social events were the bane of your existence, the reason you woke up every morning and wish you could die. unfortunately when you’re a demigod they’re hard to ignore, camper there, camper here, now you have camp chores… the list goes on. It wasn’t only that you loathed social interactions— you were painfully awkward. stepping outside was practical social suicide for you. which is why you kept to yourself and sat at cabin three table with the only boy you would tolerate speaking to

you take a handful of his assorted berries into your hands and onto your plate, eating them one by one

“so what’re you up to today?” asks percy

you stop and think. you hadn’t planned your day out that far yet. “I’m not sure. maybe I’ll paint or read or sleep. I don’t know”

“that sounds great! I’m free today too, maybe I could come with you?”

“uhhh… yeah” you shrug “but I don’t want you interrupting my reading. can you stay quiet?”

“just for you” percy winks, maybe you scrunch your nose in disgust and return your focus to your breakfast. that’s when your worst fear happens. a camper walks to the table— presumably from cabin seven because her hair flies in rays of sunshine. you stiffen and avoid eye contact

“there’s a party in hermes cabin later, you coming?”

“I’ll be there! do you wanna come to, (name)?”

you swallow hard and nod. but no you do not want to go. parties were the home place of social situations and people. tons. of. people.

“okay, great! I’ll see you two tonight then” the girl smiles and leaves the table (your prayers had been answered! tyche would be getting extra offerings this morning for sure)

percy furrows his brows and turns fully to you. “what was that?”

now you avoid eye contact with him also. “what was what?”

“well, I mean you were talking to me fine and then that girl came over here and you forgot how!”

“I don’t like that girl” you lie

“you’ve never met her in your life and I know it because you only ever talk to me”

you frown. “I don’t like talking to anyone else…”

“I figured”

you give him a look of disapproval and hit him upside the head. “don’t be a smart-ass”

“you know what?” he says, ignoring your comment and action

the look on your face is bored. you know what he’s about to say. yet you sigh and reply, “what?”

“I’m glad you only talk to me. makes me feel special”

you close your eyes and shake your head slowly. percy laughs and plants a kiss to your cheek happily. when you open your eyes back up you see him staring at you creepily lovingly

“I really like you (nickname)”

mood: ruined. you groan and stand up. “you’re such a fucking weirdo, get away from me”

you hear percy shout behind you, “hey, you should’ve said that to that girl!”

[theapangea]

I love your fics omfggggg

can you do one where fwb wants to be in an actual relationship but lip doesn’t so they end things with him. then lip realizes that he loved her after it was too late. Angst with fluff at the end 💞💞

(I’m sorry this is like my first time requesting anything 💀)

Thank you so much for trusting me with writing this for you and pls do not be sorry - seriously means so much to me <3. This is a long one bc I feel there is just so much that goes into this story so I hope you like it! I went the route that Lip is kind of afraid to be in a relationship which is why he doesn't want one with the reader. Hope you enjoy my love!!

It's Always Going To Be You

Lip Gallagher x reader

wc: 2.4k

Contents: 18+/ MINORS DNI!!, There is like two paragraphs of smut and the rest has no smut, p in v, unprotected sex, idk why I had to add smut but it’s Lip so kind of makes sense, verbal fighting, swearing

Fingers digging into your hips as you continue on your euphoric ride, your juices dripping down his balls as you grind against his length. Your head is fuzzy, your thoughts scattered as Lip holds you down tightly while he increases his speed. His throbbing tip hits your sweet spot repeatedly, twitching under his grasp as the feeling is mutual. Lip watches as your face contorts into pure pleasure, riding the wave of pleasure as you both cum.

A whiny moan escaping your lips as Lip pounds hard into your core. Your heart pounding in your center as you roll over onto the bed. Falling softly onto the mattress, the sound of heavy breaths quickly overtake the room, replacing the moans that once littered the space. 

Turning your head to look over at the man who just rocked your world, once again. The sun hitting his face perfectly as it shines brightly through the window, watching the sweat trickle down his temple and a playful smirk dancing along his face. His thoughts are foggy from the amazing time you two just shared. 

Rolling over onto your side, your left hand snaking its way along his chest, fingers grazing over the soft skin, goosebumps trailing not far behind. 

Lip takes your hand in his, giving it a tight squeeze as his other hand reaches for the loose strands of hair that fall into your face, tucking them neatly behind your ear. Then pulling you closer by the chin to place a soft kiss on your lips.

You are in love.

Lip has your heart so deeply that you cannot fathom feeling anything else. His touch, his voice, his laugh, his everything making you completely head over heels for him. 

Unfortunately for you, the two of you are just friends who happen to have sex with each other. Though you definitely yearn for something more. 

Taking a deep breath as you work up the courage to ask, “Do you ever think about being more than just friends?”

Lip’s eyes are still fixed on yours but his face changes to an indescribable stare. The question obviously makes him think more than you would like. Humming before answering, “Uhh, not really.” Dropping both of his hands as Lip looks back towards the ceiling. 

A wrenching punch to your fragile heart. 

“So you just want to have sex and that’s it?” You question, your tone becoming venomous as you push back from Lip. The feeling of love slowly dissipates.

“Pretty much yeah.”

Pretty much? 

Pretty much?

Has Lip Gallagher completely lost his fucking mind? 

Your body begins to shake, your blood boiling inside your veins as his words repeat over and over and over in your mind. You want to scream, yell, push, punch…cry. All of these emotions build in your body as you stare at Lip who doesn’t even look like he gives a shit.

“Fuck you Lip Gallagher.”

It is all you can muster up the courage to say. Immediately following the words by getting off the bed. Grabbing your underwear off the floor, murmuring to yourself as you struggle to put them on. 

Lip groans as he lifts himself up, “Don’t be like this.” Scooting himself to the edge of the bed. Reaching out his hands towards you, his fingertips brushing against your bare waist and arms. Grazing along the skin until he reaches your hand, squeezing light with sincerity in his eyes.

He makes your heart flutter, but you can’t shake his words, “Lip, be honest with me.” Your free hand gripping the cotton fabric of your shirt, “Do you ever want this to go further than just sex?” 

"Like a relationship?"

"Yes a relationship."

Hesitating before answering you, “Not really.”

Dropping your hand from his instantly at his hurtful words. Heart sinking to the very depths of the holes in your stomach, the burning sensation tickles the back of your throat as you hold back your tears. “Then we’re done.” Your tone is quiet, continuing to fight the urge to collapse, to cry into his arms as you hurry to put on your clothes.

Lip tries, but fails, to get your attention. Reaching out towards you to talk to him, but every time you take a moment to just stare at him. Your stare no longer holds the spark of love that radiates for him, but the resentment you now hold towards him. The way he just let your heart hit the cold ground without any care in the world. 

And as soon as you have your pants on, you are out the door of his room. Practically running to get out of the house, away from him, away from the heartbreak. 

You can hear the heavy footsteps behind you, knowing he is following close behind. His voice follows as it pleads for you to stop. 

Finally able to grab your arm at the end of the staircase, the argument is in full display of his family that occupies the living room. “Why do we have to ruin what we have now?” Lip whispers.

“We don’t have anything now, Lip.” You harshly say, louder than your normal tone of voice, “It’s just sex, all we ever do is fuck and I want more.” You can feel the burning sensation come back, your eyes shifting downwards as the tears start to become too hard to hold back, speaking softly, “I deserve more.”

Ripping your hand hard from his grasp. Pausing just a brief second to look at Lip, wishing this day turned out differently. Wishing you never had sex with him in the first place. You leave without saying another word, the door slamming loudly behind you.

Lip is beyond furious with you and how you reacted. He couldn’t believe how childish you were being over something so silly, over something that wasn’t even serious. He shakes his head before departing up the stairs, before anyone of his siblings can make any sort of remarks about the shit storm that just happened. 

Lip ignored the world for the first couple of days since your break up, that wasn’t really a break up, at least not to him. He constantly replayed the fight over and over again until his head hurt. Trying to understand you but he couldn’t he could fucking understand you at all.

Why did you get so mad?

Why did you want to ruin what you both currently have?

Why did you want more?

Why couldn’t he give you more?

After a couple of weeks, Lip wasn’t mad at you anymore. A little annoyed but not mad. More mad at himself and frustrated with how he always handles these situations. If anyone shows just a little bit of feelings towards him, he completely shuts down, shutting anyone and everyone out. Anyone who could break him.

Lip’s life eventually went back to normal, or as normal as a Gallagher’s life could get. But there was definitely something missing, and he knew it was you and your laugh and your smile and the way your eyes light up when you look at him. 

Lip finally realized that it was never about the sex, even though it was definitely great. It was you, it was always going to be you. 

He was just too much of an idiot, too heartbroken by other girls to see that you are perfect for him in every way.

He is in love with you, and finally ready to admit it. 

The realization hits Lip like a ton of bricks on this hot, sunny Tuesday afternoon. The puzzle pieces finally click into place as his mind is no longer questioning his feelings. He understands how he feels and he needs to tell you right now.

No more waiting, Lip thought, it was now or never.

And he couldn’t face forever without you.

His heart beating faster, the adrenaline pumping through his body as he practically runs to your house. His feet moving quicker than ever before, his body rushing on the pure thought of love coursing through his vein. 

The high races in Lip's head, sending him higher than any joint or orgasm ever could. 

Lip is in love.

The rapid pounding on the front door shakes you from your slumber. It’s been a couple very hard weeks since your stupid, little break up with Lip. God, why couldn’t you get him out of your mind? 

Taking a pillow to place over your head as the pounding becomes louder and louder, more and more frequent. You groan aggressively throughout the quiet house, wishing the person on the other side will just go the fuck away.

Huffing as you begrudgingly take your little heartbroken body down the stairs to answer the door. The knocking still at full volume, shaking the windows. Unlocking the door to see him…the boy who broke you. The boy who wants nothing from you but sex. 

You can barely look at him, making the quick decision to shut the door. Wanting to leave him and everything about him far away from you. But before you can close the door completely, Lip jams his shoe into the open space. Pushing to try to stop you from shutting the door, shutting him out. 

“I just want to talk.” He states, sticking his hand to help himself keep the door open.

Now leaning your whole body on the heavy door, attempting to close it on him, but unfortunately Lip is far stronger than you. “I have nothing to say to you,” Pushing hard until he finally loses his grip and in one final push, you close the door and lock him out.

Chest heaving as you watch him on the other side of the fogged glass. You can feel your body start to give in as he calls your name. Begging for you to talk to him. 

But you physically can’t. You won’t let yourself be hurt by Lip again. You deserve better than that and if that means never seeing him again, then so be it.

Walking away from the door, back up the stairs, continuing to hear him call your name. Each time is like a knife being twisted deeper into your heart. Plopping on the bed, grabbing a stuffed animal and crying, because at this point there is nothing more you can manage to do.

Lip huffs as he tries to figure out what to do. Obviously his first attempt at talking to you didn’t work out very well but he can’t just leave and hope that some day things will work out between the two of you. He needs you to know how he truly feels. 

Puckering his lips as he walks out into the front lawn, looking up towards the second floor at your bedroom window. And that’s when the idea hit, just like every classic 80s movie, just needs a little bit of romance. He looks around for a couple of rocks, taking two or three of them in his hands before tossing them at your bedroom window.  

The tapping sound clicks through your room, hearing it in between sobs. Looking up to figure out where the noise is coming from as another rock hits your window. Wiping away the snot from your nose and the tears from your eyes as you stumble over to the window.

Peering out to sit Lip down below, waving up at you. Opening the window to shout, “Go away Gallagher before I call the cops.” Your voice still reminisces of hurt as you try your best to sound tough.

“I just want to talk.” Lip yells back, picking the dirt off of the rock in his hands.

“Well I don’t.” You begin to shut the window until he yells for you to stop. His voice is about to break, tugging at your heart strings. You can see his cheeks start to get rosy and the strain in his eyes as he holds back tears.

“Please stop,” He feels like he can’t catch his breath, “I just need to talk.”

You pause, staring at him as he begins to break down in your front lawn. Opening the window again, poking your head out and nodding for him to continue. 

“I was- I am a fucking idiot. Because I didn’t see what we had, b-but I do now. You have to believe me.” Dropping the rocks in his hand as his palm wipes away the lone tear that runs down his cheek.

“I LOVE YOU Y/N!” His whole heart is in his words. “I am so madly in love with you.”

You can’t help but smile, smile at him for being such a dork who is shouting his love for you. Smile because it feels like you can actually breathe after so many weeks of being under water. Your lungs so full of air they could burst at any second. 

“Please come down here and talk to me.”

Rolling your eyes playfully as you make your way out of your room, down the stairs and out onto the porch. A little laugh catching in your throat as Lip continues to shouts to the neighborhood how much he loves you. How much he adores you.

Only stopping when he notices you are outside. “I’m serious, y’know. About us.”

Crossing your arms over your body, as you so desperately want to give yourself to him, but after what happened between the two of you. You can’t help but want to continue to build your walls. “I don’t know, Lip.”

“I was scared. Wh-when you told me that you wanted something more. I didn’t think I could feel this way after- well after Karen. But here you were, here you are making me feel fucking stupid and like over the moon for you.” Lip rants, “I could be doing the most interesting shit, and somehow the thought of you will pop up in my mind, uncalled for, and then I end up thinking about you for the rest of the day.”

“I am in love with you. I am always going to be in love with you.” His eyes are soft as he tries to study you, tries to indicate what you are thinking. Hoping that you will forgive him. 

A small smile creeps onto your face as you can’t help but understand where Lip is coming from. You know what it’s like to not trust people, to want to close yourself off from others. Hell it’s easier than falling in love. But you can’t help who you fall in love with.

Taking a couple of steps closer to him, hand extending to touch the buttons on his shirt. Eyes, doe-like as they bat behind your eyes lashes. Heart fluttering as you pinch the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer towards you.

Inches away from one another as Lip grabs your face with both hands, kissing you deeply, needing you more than oxygen. 

~~~~

“I could be doing the most interesting shit, and somehow the thought of you will pop up in my mind, uncalled for, and then I end up thinking about you for the rest of the day.” - writing prompt from @dumplingsjinson - prompt list here.

I super hope you enjoyed!! Let me know what you think <3

[heartsforvin]

Hi! I Hope you’re well🫶

Can you write something where vinnie was rude to y/n because he’s quite irritable since he’s trying to quit vaping (proud of him btw!) and then he feels terribly sorry so he covers y/n with kisses and hugs🥹

MOOD SWINGS

i’m doing good thank you ! and thank you for the request !! so proud of vin for tryna quit cus ik that shit is not easy to do 😭

pairing; vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings; cussing, use of pet names (baby, princess, etc), lil bit of angst, i think that’s all but lmk if i missed somethin !!

summary; vinnie accidentally lashes out on you but quickly realizes what he did

for a few years now, vinnie has been trying to quit vaping. it’s been a rough road over the years, but you’re proud of vinnie for actually sticking to his goal.

you knew when you started dating vinnie that he vaped, but he had told you he stopped months ago.

when you saw him vape about a month ago, you were confused, questioning him on it and wondering why he was starting the habit back up again.

“baby i swear i’m quitting, i’m sorry,” he rambled to you. “i’ve been taking zyn’s to help me quit it, and i know it’s like swapping one thing out for another, but they’re really helping me.” he explained.

you smiled at him and had given him a hug, looking up at him with your pretty eyes. “don’t be sorry, my love,” you told him. “i know you’re trying to quit, you’ll get there eventually.”

vinnie gave you a quick kiss and had thanked you for being so supportive.

fast forward to a few weeks later and his habit is still here, but you know he’s trying to stop it, and you knew it took some time.

it’s been difficult on you, on your relationship, but you know the two of you will get past this.

vinnie’s become a bit more irritable since he’s been trying to quit the habit, you try not to take it personal and tell yourself it’s just a mood swing thing, but it’s hard not too when it’s the person you love so much.

“sweetheart, have you seen my zyn’s anywhere?” vinnie asks you as he walks into your guys’ shared room in his apartment.

you’re sat on his bed with hera in your lap when you saw him walk into the room. “no i haven’t, im sorry.”

muttering what sounded like a cuss word under his breath, vinnie goes into the bathroom to see if he had left them in there.

“fuck,” you hear from the bathroom. you carefully place hera on the mattress next to you and stand up to see what has vinnie so upset.

“vinnie?” you slowly walk into the bathroom to see vinnie move stuff that’s on the counter around. “baby it’s okay, calm down,” you walk up to him and rub his back. “we’ll find them.”

you’re trying so hard not to let your emotions get to you when vinnie suddenly turns to face you. the look he’s giving you is something you can’t explain.

“and what if we don’t?” he asks, the look in his eyes immediately changing and you can tell he’s getting upset.

“i need to quit this awful fucking habit,” he says, pacing around the bathroom. “you hate it, i hate it, everyone hates it, it’s no good.”

you agree with him, it is no good, but getting upset over losing something to stop that habit shouldn’t be happening.

“this whole thing just pisses me off,” he tells you as he continues to walk around the bathroom. “i should’ve never started.”

it’s silent for a moment before vinnie yells out something and that’s when you knew he was really upset.

“vin, baby, it’s okay we can—no, we can’t do anything. this is a me thing.” vinnie cuts you off, and when the words come out of his mouth tears immediately well up in your eyes.

you and vinnie are a team, always have and will always will be, it’s how you two work. so when the sentence ‘we can’t do anything’ fell from his lips, you wanted to cry.

you knew you shouldn’t have, and was probably gonna hear it from him after, but you hit his chest out of frustration and walked out of the room.

vinnie watched as you walked away with a slam to the bedroom door, muttering something to himself once the door shut.

he knew it’d end up like this at some point, and he felt like shit for raising his voice at you and making you cry.

hours went by and you were back in vinnie’s room, curled up in his bed with hera laying against your chest.

you hear the door quietly open and you know it’s vinnie, but don’t make an attempt to roll over to face him.

“sweetheart?” you hear as his voice sounds hurt, like he knows what happened hours ago, as if it finally processed in his head.

the mattress dips and that’s when you know he’s laying on the other end of you. vinnie moves some hair that’s in your face and he plants a soft kiss right below your eye.

“i’m so sorry i raised my voice at you, my love,” he starts, making you smile that he’s finally apologizing. “and for making you cry.”

“i just, it’s been tough on me, you know? all the mood swings and shit, but that can’t be an excuse, i shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.” he explains.

you carefully roll over to face your boyfriend, hera still laying beside you as you do. vinnie carefully reaches up to caress your cheek and smiles.

you lean into his touch and kiss his palm softly. “it’s okay, you just need to remember that you’re not alone in this, i’m with you.” you explain.

vinnie smiles and leans in to kiss you, smiling once the two of you pull away. hera moves out from beside you and that’s when vinnie gently pulls you closer to him.

wrapping his arms around you, you nuzzle into his chest, loving the way he alone can calm you.

“i know,” you hear vinnie speak, the vibration in his chest making you giggle. “i’m still so sorry. i know we’ll find them, i just need to quit this, it’s giving me terrible mood swings.”

it’s silent but vinnie knows you heard him, soon you’re being covered in kisses and you can’t help but laugh.

vinnie hugs you tight after, making you smile and nuzzle into him more, loving being in his embrace.

“i love you, baby, we’ll get through this.” you tell him, looking up at him as you do.

vinnie looks down at you with a smile. “i love you too, i know we will.” he replies kissing you softly once more.

the two of you lie there wrapped in each others arms for awhile, knowing the two of you will in fact get through this.

hii !!! i hope you enjoyed this !! so so proud of vin for sticking to his goal and trying to quit vaping <33

tags: @cosmicanakin , @lyndys , @forevergirlposts , @visualbutterflysworld , @slvthrs , @bernelflo , @kriissy4gov , @laylasbunbunny , @st4rswrld , @hallecarey1 , @supabhad , @lovingsturniolo , @leqonsluv3r , @violet0182

[klxudykai]

the ugly part of reality shifting

as great as shifting is, its really fucking draining. like REALLY draining. its nice that people want to show the fun and positive side of shifting and all, but once new shifters (specifically) hit the stage where they're drained and extremely demotivated, they aren't going to know how to deal with these new overwhelming emotions. reality shifting takes a toll on our mental health even if we don't like to admit it. this may not apply to everything, but I know it applies to the majority.

ive been shifting since 2021 (if you saw my post Abt me starting shifting in 2019 that was wrong lmfao mb yall-). and I still haven't shifted. I used to think I'd shift within 4 years but surprise surprise. I haven't. I'm drained and demotivated. I don't completely believe I wont ever shift, but I don't think I can get what I want by manifesting or affirming or doing any of that. I think the universe will just randomly hand it to me. it sounds dumb but that's the weird luck I have. when I don't expect it, I get what I want. but when I try hard and I expect it, nothing happens or I get smth worse. i don't think that even when I put blood,sweat, and tears into this that I'll shift. I've discovered so much shit about myself yet I am still here with no experience of what its like in another reality let alone my dr. never saw my dr once. only in my dreams and my imagination.

im going to be completely honest when I say that shifting is not for the weak. I'm not saying this to get you to quit because shifting is one of the best things that I found. I just want you to know that its not always going to be perfect. you might feel desperate, you might feel homesick, you might feel exhausted mentally. and sometimes you'll make progress but then find another obstacle. quite frankly, fuck the obstacles because that's not the issue. its how you deal with them that really determine how your growth goes. and no I'm not saying it controls if you'll shift or not because it doesn't. but if you're a person that gives up easily, its going to be hard to overcome those blockages. I say that because I myself give up easily. which is ironic because I don't give up when it comes to certain goals I want to accomplish (one of those goals being shifting), but I refuse to get rid of those so called "blockages" and avoid them even though I know what's the problem. I avoid them because I don't know how to fix them and I just have this fear that's telling me I'll fail.

this post probably doesn't make a lot of sense but that's because I'm writing this in the heat of the moment so I'm not doing a lot of thinking, I'm just typing. what I'm saying is don't be that person that avoids the problems. be transparent with yourself because I'm telling you, the more you avoid it, the more drained youre going to become. it might turn into an endless loop where you think about your Dr daily but you have zero energy to shift. and it fucking sucks.

overall, please take breaks whether they're mental or shifting breaks, if you feel like there is an issue with yourself, fix it. this is a hard journey but it will be a lot easier once you're honest and overcome problems that need to be solved.

(disclaimer that this may not apply to everyone, just the people who are going through a rough patch in their journey. this is mainly just my perspective and what I've heard from a friend of mine since our issues seemed pretty similar. and if anyone needs someone to talk to, my DMS are open. I want my blog to be a safe space and that this is a place where not everything is perfect. I love y'all and please take care and don't stress yourselves <33)

also, fuck that toxic positivity shit that just makes mfs more drained. if you feel demotivated address it don't push it away

[leviraaaaaa]

“I hate it.”

You looked up at him, gritting your teeth through the words. You were angry, so so angry. Furious, enraged, aggravated. Who does he think he is, that fucking Jaeger?

Eren’s last letter finally came through. The one where he says he was going to raid Liberio and asked the scouts for help. Or did he? With or without help, he said. The audacity.

After all the shit you and the others had to go through, the huge reports trying to explain why he went missing, answering the higher ups about his disappearance, trying to justify it, seeking up excuses. Then he has the fucking nerve to send these letters.

You had stormed out right after Hange read out the words, not even bothering to ask to be excused. You were tired of dealing with that emo teenage brat.

But Levi gave no reaction to the sharpness of your tone, already aware of the cause of your temper. He was there in the room, his expression had tightened just as yours had. And he must’ve followed you right after.

He always does.

Without a word, he lowered himself down on the step beside you.

“This is filthy.” He scrunched his nose. “Couldn’t have found a better place?”

“I didn’t ask you to sit here.” You grumbled, rolling your eyes. You just kind of took the first isolated corner you could find. Sure, the stairs were filthy, but that was the last thing on your mind.

“Why did you follow me anyways?” You asked.

“I didn’t follow you.” Levi sighs, stretching his leg to kick a piece of rock. It flew all the way over to a wall, making soft little sounds on the pavement as it impacted. “I needed air. He pissed me off.”

You let out a noise in agreement. That’s one thing you can both agree on. Eren Jaeger was an absolute piece of shit with a talent to irritate like no other.

“Next time I’m seeing him,” You mumbled darkly. “I’m breaking a couple bones, I swear.”

“That was actually my plan, but I’d let you have the honors as well.”

“You should’ve hit him harder all those years ago, back in the courtroom.”

“Definitely.”

That made you smile.

But it was the absolute seriousness of his expression that made you crack. The stony face, with an even more stoic tone. He actually seemed to be considering the idea. As if you and him were merely discussing the weather instead of the best way to beat up an adolescent boy. Without even meaning to, you were grinning, a snort escaping you making Levi glance at you with the side of his eyes. He frowned.

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are.” You smiled. “That’s why it’s funny.” Poor Eren, he’s had it coming.”

Finally, you felt the anger go down.

It’s always like that. You get angry, you get emotional, but when you turn around, Levi’s always there, in his own strange little way, a hand on your shoulder and shooting you a look. Or times like this when you’re upset and pissed, and he just sits with you and goes along with everything you say until you feel better.

You leaned back, letting yourself fall back on your arms, kicking your legs and stretching them. Your shoulders hurt from how stiff they’ve been from the tension until now. You tilted your head to look at him.

“Look at us, making plans about how to beat up a kid half our age. What have we come to?”

“Our fucking limit.” Levi grumbled, but the scowl lessened, his brows straightening slightly at your calmer tone. His own shoulders relaxed. “He deserves it at this point.”

You grinned. Sure, you can’t really hit Eren right now, but the idea does make you feel better. For the time being at least, you’ll have to cope by daydreaming.

But you were so tired, you think. Very so.

Why is it that you could never stop running?

Eren’s shit was only the least of it, but it’s been so hard. Being a scout was never supposed to be easy. But ever since Erwin and the others died, nothing's been the same. You could hardly celebrate the success at retaking wall maria when the price to pay was the blood of everyone you knew. Even witnessing the wonder that is the sea for the first time hadn’t been as thrilling as you thought, how could it when you know there’s a whole other world beyond it, and that they want you dead? Stepping in Marley and realizing all that you’ve been kept away from, a life you couldn’t even imagine. It must be nice to live without being so terrified, scared for you and scared for your friends, you had thought. Must be nice to live without having the rest of the world label you as devils and to take the peace for granted.

You wished you could just catch a fucking break. Maybe forever.

You sighed.

“Levi.”

He gave a lazy glance. “What?”

“Let’s run away.” You muttered softly under your breath. Eyes focused on the ground. “Me and you. And Hange, if they want to come.” You sighed, pausing a little. “I hate it. I hate all of it. I’m sure you do too.”

With that, you turned to look at him, right in those silver eyes of his. They looked almost blue here in the moonlight. Was it just you or was even the wind holding its breath?

“This isn’t what I signed up for Lev. I thought I was going to fight titans, not humans.”

“What..” He asked, staring at you unblinking, almost confused. And surprised. And something else you couldn’t quite place. “What are you on about?”

“So, let’s go.”

“What?”

“I’m serious. Somewhere far away. We could just get up and leave right now.”

“..now?”

Levi gaped, struggling to find something to say. Your light tone indicated that it was a joke but yet, there was something in your eyes. A glimmer of something. That made him think that maybe it wasn’t a joke after all.

You grinned. “Leave this to the kids. They don’t listen to us either way. Let’s go and start another life.”

And for a moment, there was silence. You stared at him as he did the same, eyes boring into each other, unspoken words and unconfessed truths thrumming in the air between.

And just for that moment, you considered it. You really, really considered it. Just saying it out loud.

To tell him what you never did. What you’ve been hiding from him for so long.

Would that be so bad?

What if you did run away after all?

You sighed.

“Jeez, Levi.” You finally looked away, peeling your eyes off of him. “Relax. You look like I’m about to drag you from here at gunpoint. It was a joke.”

Levi was quick to duck his head away as well. “I know.” He mumbled. “I know. I’m not that fucking dense.”

“Were you hoping I was serious?” You pulled your knees up to his chest, letting your head rest on them to look at him, a grin forming.

He did. But he couldn’t say that, could he?

“You are the last person I’d willingly choose to spend my life with.” He scowled.

“That’s cruel.” You gasped dramatically, feigning hurt and giving him a mock glare. “We get along fine.”

“You’re missing the part where I want to choke one or two dozen times a day.”

“Kinky.”

“Fuck off.”

“Okay, but, think about it,” You pressed your lips together with the effort to hold the grin together, trying your best to look serious. How could you when he looked so incredulous? It only made you want to fuck around with him a little more. “You could be a farmer or some shit. I could be the pretty housewife. Some peace and calm.”

“You as a housewife?” Levi snorted, amusement gleaming in his eyes at the thought. “Peace and calm at the same place where you are?”

“Well,” You shrugged, “You could be the pretty housewife then. I won’t mind.”

“I think I'll stick to being a squad captain, thanks.”

"You're no fun."

"Shut the fuck up.''

The giggle finally escaped you, unable to hold it in any longer. And little after, you were laughing, clutching your sides, making the mistake of looking at his very offended face and then you were laughing so hard you could hardly breathe. Soon, even Levi’s face softened, the corners of his mouth quirking up just a little.

“HEYYY YOU TWO!”

Hange yells, appearing out of nowhere and startling the shit out of the two of you, making you almost choke. They flopped themselves down between you, wrapping their arms around both of your shoulders, squeezing hard and letting their head drop. “Nice of you to leave me alone with those children. Gave me a headache.”

“You’re the commander after all.” You said coughing, trying to get your breathing back to normal.

“Next time, can you at least say hello before you proceed to crush us to death?” Levi grumbled, squirming under Hange’s grasp.

“No.” They reply to Levi. “But jeez.. I say one word and Mikasa gets all defensive. Why is everyone acting like it’s my fault?” Hange pouts.

“Aw Hange.” You pat their back, laughing.

“I want to smack Eren.”

“Don’t we all?” Levi muttered quietly under his breath.

“Me and Levi booked him first.” You said. “You can have the rest if anything remains.”

“Aw man. No fair.”

Hange pulled a face. And then they pulled the two of you closer, until all 3 of you were practically squishing against each other.

You let your eyes fall shut, soaking in the warmth. And Levi, even Levi— who’s always complaining about Hange’s very physical manners—didn’t complain anymore. And the three of you just stayed like that, leaning against each other in silence. The presence of the other was enough itself.

Then Hange spoke, so quietly you would’ve barely heard it if you weren’t so close.

“How long do you think until it’s over?”

You pondered over the question a little while, thinking about it. Then you sighed.

“Who knows? Will it ever really be over?”

Hange exhaled softly, pausing. They looked up, the moonlight glinting off their glasses. There were a lot of stars tonight.

“Think Erwin’s getting amusement watching us be miserable?” They muttered.

It was Levi to answer this time.

"Yes."