#it was a while back but i think the world is ready to see them now

[miaoua3]

RIDING SEUNCHEOL'S FACE LIKE FULL-BLOWN SITTING AND GRINDING ON IT AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH

YUUUUUUUP PREACH IT GURLLL YOU COULDNT TELL ME CHEOL ISNT A CERTIFIED MUNCH OHMYLORD THE NASTINESS THAT IM ABOUT TO WRITE OOOF-

Sit On It

Pairing: bf! scoups x f!reader

Genre: the nastiest smut i will probably ever write (MDNI), face sitting, praise, power play (slight), cunnulingus

Description: you make cheol’s terrible day so so much better by finally fulfilling his biggest fantasy-you sitting on his face.

Note: hyperventilating just by thinking about sitting on his beautiful face, eyebrows furrowed, big arms wrapped around my thighs- UNHOLY THOUGHTS BEGONE XJAJAKANNSOQJAIA (also, not proofread, as per usual💔)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

here’s the thing-a lot of things that you and cheol did in the bedroom was relatively new to you, considering that your previous lovers (if you can even call them that by the lack of effort they put) were selfish and conceded. so when you two started dating, and eventually sleeping together, it was surprising to experience being with someone who was so…giving, almost catering to all of your needs.

that man, if he could, he would spend every waking moment of his between your legs, either lapping and licking and sucking on your sweet pussy, or pounding into it with the force that makes the whole bed move, never mind your body.

still, there was one thing you two still have yet to try. something he has expressed he would love to do-or, well, for you to do to him.

or rather to his face.

naturally, he respected your wishes and you saying ‘no’ to his proposal. but you could see how pouty he turns every time he tries to ask if maybe you have changed your mind yet, only for you to vigorously shake your head.

it’s not that you don’t want to, it’s just…

it’s one thing to have him lay between your legs, lapping on your juices and make you soak both his face and his sheets.

it’s an entirely different thing to have that control over him-over the situation- and just grind on his face, to make yourself cum all over it, when usually he’s the one to usually make you cream all over his face.

and you thought your answer wouldn’t change. not for a while at least.

…well. about that.

you just felt so bad. he came back from work visibly under stress, his thick eyebrows set in a frown so deep they were almost touching.

he barely said anything to you, a clear sign that one wrong word could set him off, hence why he’s avoiding any conversation that could leas up to that.

he immediately locked himself up in the shower for a while, before he came back and went directly to your room, laying flatly on his back. his naked chest rose up and down in shallow and stressed sighs, face hidden in the elbow of his arm that he threw over his gorgeous face.

he just looked so…tense, you felt like you had to do something.

and so, before you knew it, you let your shorts and panties hit the floor, your (actually, cheol’s) shirt following next.

he was just laying there, deep in thought, that he didn’t ever hear you walk across the room, didn’t even pay too much attention to the mattress dipping under your weight as you crawled towards him.

it was only when you forcefully removed his arm from his face that he was ready to say something, mean things to snap at you just on the tip of his tongue immediately dying the moment he registered your nakedness.

at first, he was ready to decline your offer, ready to say that he wouldn’t be too gentle on you right now if you two decided to have sex, that he would use you rather than love you. and that is something he wouldn’t allow to happen, not with you.

but then.

instead of straddling his hips, you went ahead and put your other leg.

on the other side of his shoulder.

cheol just stares up at you, at your gorgeous body, an angle making him both salivate and his lips completely dry, your sweet pussy that he loved more than almost anything in this world hovering over his chin, so close yet so far away.

cheol followed the trail that is your body-your wetness right in front of his eyes, followed by your soft tummy, the curves of your waist connecting right into your chest where your soft and bouncy tits stood proudly, and lastly your visibly shy and nervous face.

he could feel himself panting already, ready to actually suffocate under your weight if you would so kindly let him. but despite his urges and needs, he waited. waited for you to make the first move.

waited for you to take control.

gulping one last time, in low and raspy voice you asked him one final question.

“still want me to sit on it, baby?”

and so here you were, head thrown back as the moans flew freely out of your mouth. almost like an instinct, like an animal, you were unconsciously grinding all over his face, your juices smeared all over his mouth, cheeks, and even nose. and yet, cheol just continued to lap on your pussy like a good boy that he was.

he was so so loud as well, you can’t honestly remember if you have ever heard him be so vocal, maybe even more vocal than you. his groans were bordering on animalistic ones, vibrations coming from his mouth traveling through your pussy, through your quivering tummy and shaky chest, all the way to your ears.

his big and strong arms were strongly wrapped around your thighs, locking them in place, so even if you wanted to move, cheol wouldn’t allow you to.

your hands were so indecisive, going from strongly holding onto the headboard, to leaning back on one, hand pressed into his chest that was tight from the lack of the air, while the other was holding onto his hair, pulling on it as you were grinding all over his beautiful face.

you peaked over your tits to look at his face, only to see his eyes closed in pleasure, eyebrows now furrowed in pure ecstasy instead of anger. you notice his eyes trying to open for a second, only for them to roll back into his head the moment you circle your hips again.

and the noises-god, it was so loud and nasty, it was all the more turn on.

you were just moving your hips, sometimes back and forth, properly grinding on his hungry lips, sometimes just making circular motions, smearing your precum all over his face.

which he seems to like so much, as every time you did it, you could feel his hips buckle upwards into the air and his moans travel through your pussy.

his tongue was splitting your lips apart before dipping inside your hole, collecting your sweetness on his tongue before swallowing it, the tip of his tongue then lapping at your clit for a second before doing it all over again. you swore, it almost looked like he was passionately making out, except it was with your pussy and not with you.

you were worried that you might be too heavy, that you were suffocating him, but that seems to be exactly what he wanted, as any time you tried to raise your hips a bit and let him breathe, he would just harshly pull you back down, a sound somewhere between disapproval and warning leaving him before he goes back to being a moaning mess.

it actually came so naturally to you- being in control. you weren’t even aware just how much control you had over him right at this moment. you were the one that set the pace, the one that used your hold on his hair to move his face in the direction that you wanted him to, the one who was a babbling mess, words like “such a good boy for me” and “fuck, just like that, baby, you do it so good” involuntarily leaving your mouth.

and cheol, just like a good boy you claimed he was, took whatever you gave him.

he was so lost in the pleasure, that he didn’t even notice just how close he was to cumming untouched until your hips started buckling out of control as well, moans getting breathier the closer you were getting to creaming all over his face.

before you knew it, you harshly pulled on his hair to push his face further into your pussy as you threw your head back, a loud scream escaping you as you reached your orgasm and came all over his face, your cum smearing all over his lips and chin as he tried to clean it all up, to swallow it, to lose himself in the pleasure for just a bit longer.

after you became sensitive, you recoiled away from his touch, finally being able to lift your hips away from his face and let him breathe again.

upon you lifting yourself up, cheol uses his newfound to take one deep breath, shakily filling his lungs with fresh air. he wasn’t even aware of just how oxygen deprived he was until he tried looking up at you only for everything to become very very blurry for him.

you two just stayed like that for a minute or so, both looking at each other as your chests were heaving.

and as you were looking at each other, a clear agreement was concluded between you two as you two were trying to come back to your sanities.

fuck, we are going back from this.

[batsovergotham]

🦇 𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗼 𝗪𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗠𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗚𝗿𝗮𝘆𝘀𝗼𝗻 | A DETAILED GUIDE

regarding the project: whether or not you have read the comics, this is a straightforward tutorial for anyone wishing to write mark grayson more precisely. brief notes. genuine emotional breakdowns. no lecturing. no gatekeeping. just a straightforward, honest look at what really shapes him and how to use the source material to portray him accurately.

a/n: i posted the poll about making a how to write mark grayson guide today, but honestly... i’ve been working on this for a while, ever since i posted some fics. it started because a few people mentioned that some of my mark breakdowns helped them with their fics, and i thought it might be nice to have something more detailed all in one place. so even though the poll went up today, this guide’s been in the works for a bit hehe i really hope it helps anyone who wants to write mark more true to the comics! thanks for reading!

in the invincible comics, if there’s one thing about mark grayson, it’s that he’s stubborn as hell when it comes to his ideals. like, painfully stubborn. there are so many times where he just flat-out refuses to back down from what he believes is right, even when everyone around him is telling him he’s being naive or that it’s gonna blow up in his face. and since the show hasn’t gotten to a lot of these moments yet, let’s talk about some comic only examples that really show just how stubborn (and sometimes reckless) mark’s idealism can be.

okay, so first off: the whole fight between mark and cecil stedman (the government guy who runs the GDA)? it's turning point of mark's view of the GDA and what it truly means to be a hero. it also begins to shed him of his naivety.

basically, mark finds out cecil’s been doing all this shady stuff behind the scenes like building an army of zombie cyborg supersoldiers (the reanimen), working with literal evil clones, just... real villain behavior. cecil’s whole mindset is like, “yeah it’s awful, but it’s for the greater good.” and mark? hates it. the second he finds out, he’s ready to fight.

and cecil’s response? he doesn’t even try to explain himself anymore. he just sends a whole damn army of reanimen after mark to try and beat him into submission. it’s brutal. mark gets swarmed, blasted with this crazy sonic device they rigged up, he’s getting absolutely trashed, and he still refuses to back down. he barely escapes, pulls some of the guardians together, and marches right back to finish what he started.

they trash the reanimen, it’s a mess, and at the end, cecil’s standing there like, “i did what had to be done.” and mark, bleeding and furious, basically tells him to shove it. he straight-up quits. no backup, no government support, nothing just him deciding he’d rather be completely alone than be part of something he thinks is wrong. like... that’s mark grayson. stubborn to the end.

Universa Arc.

so, universa’s this alien warrior who shows up on earth basically trying to steal the planet’s energy to save her dying world. mark and eve fight her, they win, she gets thrown in prison. standard superhero stuff, right? most heroes would’ve been like “cool, problem solved” and moved on. but not mark. mark can’t let it go.

he actually goes out of his way to visit her in jail. just to talk. and when he finds out she was only doing all of this because her people were desperate not because she was evil or power-hungry or anything he immediately goes into “let’s fix this” mode. like, no hesitation.

and he doesn't just feel bad about it and leave, no, mark convinces the warden to let her go, helps her find a way to safely get the energy she needs without hurting anyone, and sends her back home to save her people. universa is so stunned she literally promises to repay him someday.

it’s honestly one of the purest things he ever does. he refuses to just see her as “the bad guy.” he sees the person underneath. he believes that people, even enemies, can do the right thing if you give them a real chance.

was it a little naive? yeah, kinda. but it worked because mark’s the kind of guy who means it. like, really means it. and people can tell. that’s why his idealism hits so hard. he never gives up on the idea that there’s a better way.

Oliver and Allen VS Mark

okay, so one of the most heartbreaking examples of mark’s idealism clashing with the people he loves is the whole scourge virus situation.

basically, allen the alien and mark’s half-brother oliver come up with this plan to release a modified version of the scourge virua, the same virus that almost wiped out the viltrumites, to finish the job for good.

and mark? mark is horrified.

he’s not just worried about the viltrumites (even though yeah, some of them deserve it). he’s thinking about the humans. he’s thinking about the risk. he’s thinking about how unleashing something that dangerous ever is just crossing a moral line you can’t uncross.

so he tries to stop them. and it turns into a full-on fight. it’s messy, it’s emotional, and somewhere in the middle of it all, oliver, desperate and panicking, accidentally infects mark with the virus. mark almost dies.

and even after all that, after being betrayed and almost killed by his own brother, mark doesn’t blow up in rage. he’s just heartbroken. because for mark, the real tragedy isn’t what happened to him. it’s that people he loves were willing to risk something so horrific, to cross a line he’s spent his whole life refusing to cross.

like... he would literally rather fight his own family, risk dying, than give up on his ideals. he genuinely believes that the ends don’t justify the means, even if it costs him everything.

The Final Battle with Thragg and Mark's Monologue

by the end of the comic, we really get the full picture of who mark grayson has become. all that stubborn idealism, independence, and moral conviction he’s built up over the years? it all comes to a head during his final battle with thragg.

and the thing is...mark’s not just throwing punches. he’s saying everything he’s believed, everything that’s come to define him. he straight-up rejects thragg’s whole worldview, the viltrumite mindset of "strength over everything." and while they’re fighting, mark gives this monologue (mid-fight, because of course he does) that honestly just hits you right in the chest:

“you see us as people living only for conquest, measured only by the size of our empire. no room for peace. no room for compassion. no room for love… the truth is you were holding us back… we can be a force for good. we can spread peace throughout the galaxy. we can love and be loved. we can be happy.”

like... that’s so mark. even after everything he’s been through, even while he's locked in a life or death fight, he still believes people, even viltrumites, can be better.

and it’s not just talk either. this is what mark actually wants. he’s trying to turn an empire built on war into something good. it’s insanely idealistic, yeah, but it’s 100% real. and what’s really cool is that he’s doing it his way. not the way any viltrumite leader before him would’ve done it. this is mark’s independence on full blast, he's building something new, completely breaking away from the old viltrumite pride and brutality.

thragg, of course, can’t even wrap his head around it. and mark beats him, physically and symbolically. it’s basically proving that compassion and strength aren’t opposites. mark’s showing that being a good person doesn’t mean being weak, and being cruel doesn’t mean you’re strong.

if you’re writing fanfiction that covers late-series or post-series mark, this moment is a huge thing to keep in mind. by now, he’s not the uncertain teenager anymore. he knows who he is and what he stands for. but he hasn’t lost that earnestness, that moral fire he had as a kid, if anything, it’s gotten stronger and sharper.

mark taking down thragg with conviction shows the kind of leader he’s grown into. he’s not just reacting to problems anymore; he’s actively trying to shape a better future. people look up to him, even people who used to be enemies, because of the integrity he shows. not because they’re scared of him, but because they respect him.

another super important thing: even after all that, mark doesn’t turn into some dictator. like, it would’ve been so easy for him to say, “i’m the strongest, i’m in charge now.” but he doesn’t. he stays focused on making things better. he pushes for the viltrumites to actually protect earth, to integrate, to live differently. he keeps that humility.

even at the height of his power, he’s worrying about being a good husband, a good dad (the finale shows his future family life), and living up to his ideals. he never stops checking himself because deep down, he’s terrified of turning into what his dad was.

so if you’re writing a future!mark or an alt ending where he’s leading the viltrumites or running with huge responsibilities, always keep that in mind: no matter how powerful he is, he’s still that same kid who’s scared of losing his humanity and who’ll do anything to protect it.

Now that we understand the Idealism surrounding his character, let's discuss how to actually write him.

okay so if you’re writing mark grayson in fanfics, one of the biggest things you have to remember is that he is not a soft boy. he is not a “yes man.” he is not some passive sunshine character who just agrees with whatever the hell his friends or love interest says because he’s so sweet and loyal. that’s just not who he is.

mark is kind. he’s empathetic. he loves deeply. but he is stubborn as hell when it comes to his beliefs. like painfully, frustratingly stubborn.

he doesn’t just roll over when someone he loves disagrees with him. he doesn’t abandon his moral compass to avoid conflict. if anything, he’ll fight even harder against the people he cares about because he believes so strongly in what he thinks is right.

this is the guy who:

tells cecil (the literal head of the GDA, who helped him post omni-man) to fuck off to his face because cecil’s methods are too corrupt.

tries to rehabilitate a literal eco-terrorist (dinosaurus) because he genuinely thinks they could do good together, even when everyone else calls him insane.

punches his own little brother and one of his best friends (oliver and allen) in the face when they want to use the scourge virus to wipe out the viltrumites, because he refuses to believe genocide is ever the answer even when it would save billions of lives.

goes into exile on an alien planet with his family instead of accepting a “peaceful” dictatorship run by robot, because he would rather lose everything than live under tyranny. then, he eventually comes back and kills robot himself.

like... mark is kind, yes. but he’s not compliant. he’s not someone you can easily sway just because you’re close to him. he doesn’t make decisions based on what’s easiest or what’ll hurt the fewest feelings. he makes decisions based on what he believes is right, even if it blows up his relationships. even if it hurts people he loves. even if it isolates him.

so when you’re writing him:

let him argue. let him push back when something doesn’t sit right with him.

let him get angry when his beliefs are challenged. he’s emotional. he’s reactive.

let him stand his ground even when it costs him.

let him care so deeply it hurts him sometimes.

don’t be afraid to show that he’s wrong, too because sometimes his stubbornness backfires horribly (like trusting dinosaurus). but even when he’s wrong, he’s never malicious. he’s never apathetic. he’s trying.

he’s not cold. he’s not cruel. but he’s also not a people-pleaser. he’s willing to lose friends, mentors, allies, and even his home if it means doing what he feels is right.

common mischaracterizations you should avoid:

making him a soft, easily manipulated boyfriend who never questions anything.

making him prioritize romance over his core values without struggle. (like, if you have him abandoning his morals instantly for love, it feels wrong. he might bend, but it would mess him up inside and cause conflict.) DO NOT CONFLATE HIS MORALS WITH WHAT THE GDA BELIEVES!!

making him unrealistically calm and detached. mark feels everything with his whole chest. when he’s hurt or angry, it shows. he doesn't bottle it up perfectly.

writing him like he's just “along for the ride” emotionally. mark makes decisions. he moves the plot. even when he’s wrong, he’s active, not passive.

writing mark grayson right means letting him be a mess sometimes. it means letting him get bloodied up in fights he probably can’t win. it means letting him make terrible mistakes because he believed too hard in someone. it means letting him love people and lose people and still keep standing, still keep hoping. still keep fighting for the better world he dreams of.

because that's what makes him invincible. not the powers. not the strength. it’s the fact that even when everything in him is broken, his body, his mind, etc, he keeps fighting for what he believes in.

bad vs good characterization examples for mark

example 1

bad: "are you sure about this?" he asked, voice trembling. "i mean... if you think it's right, i'll go along with it. i trust you." (he says nothing else. he just follows along. no hesitation, no conflict, just blind loyalty.)

why it's wrong: this makes him sound like a passive puppy who just goes wherever the story/author pushes him. mark is loyal, yeah, but he’s not a yes man. if something feels wrong to him, he’s going to say something even if it starts a fight.

good: "i don’t know if i can go with you on this," mark said, frowning. "i get why you want to do it... i do. but it doesn’t sit right with me. it’s not who i want to be." his hands flexed at his sides, restless. "i’m not trying to fight you. i’m trying to make you understand." (there’s tension. there’s conflict. but the love is still there. he’s standing his ground because he cares.)

example 2

bad: mark nodded immediately. "you're right. i didn’t even think about it that way. i’ll change everything i'm doing for you." (he has no independent thought. he never questions anything. he changes core beliefs instantly.)

why it's wrong: mark can compromise sometimes, but it’s never instant. if he changes his mind, it comes from hard conversations, real consequences, or deep emotional shifts. he doesn’t just flip a switch because someone asked him nicely.

good: "maybe you’re right," mark muttered after a long beat, his jaw locked. "but you can’t expect me to throw away everything i believe just because it's easier." he exhaled, frustrated, running a hand through his ebony hair. "i need to think. i can't just... pretend this doesn't matter."

key reminders when writing mark:

he’s stubborn. like cartoonishly stubborn. even when it’s inconvenient. even when it costs him everything.

he’s idealistic. he genuinely believes doing the right thing matters, even if nobody else believes it anymore.

he’s emotional. he feels everything with his whole chest. anger, sadness, guilt, hope, it’s never muted or put down for the sake of plot purposes.

he’s reactive. mark doesn’t always think things through. if he sees something he doesn't like or someone he loves in danger, he moves first, thinks later.

he’s not a people pleaser. even if he loves you, if you’re doing something he thinks is wrong, he’s gonna call you out. loudly.

he fights with people he loves. not because he loves them less but because he loves them too much to let them destroy themselves or cause harm to other people that causes conflict in what he believes in.

he’s not a soft boy. he’s kind. he’s empathetic. but he’s also willing to bloody his fists and risk his life for what he believes in.

he’s not passive. mark makes choices. even when they’re bad ones. he’s an active character who moves the plot forward.

he’s wrong sometimes. his idealism blinds him. he trusts the wrong people. he fucks up. and he owns it (eventually).

he doesn't believe violence is the first answer (especially at the end of the series). but when it’s necessary, he doesn’t hold back. if he’s in a fight, he’s there to win.

he can’t be guilt tripped into giving up his morals. you can hurt him. you can betray him. but you can’t make him become someone he’s not.

he keeps hoping. even after all the betrayal, death, loss, heartbreak he's gone through, he never fully lets go of hope.

NOTABLE MOMENTS TO HELP CHARACTERIZE HIM IN YOUR FIC

“DON’T EVER THREATEN MY FAMILY!!” – Issue #33.

this is mark at his absolute breaking point just pure protective rage, screaming at angstrom who just hurt his mom. it’s a simple line, but it hits because you can feel everything behind it. the second someone he loves is in danger, mark doesn’t hold back. he doesn’t care about looking heroic or calm, he just loses it. and that’s something to keep in mind if you’re writing him, when mark’s temper explodes, it’s not about his pride or getting even. it’s about protecting the people he loves. period. he’s like a lion protecting his cubs its all instinct, no hesitation. so if you’re ever writing a scene where a villain’s threatening someone close to him, picture mark practically shaking, shouting until his voice breaks, just burning with that raw, desperate anger. it’s not polished or composed, it’s messy, it’s emotional, and it’s all love underneath it.

“THIS IS BEING A SUPER-HERO? I'M JUST STOPPING CRAP FROM HAPPENING AT ANY GIVEN MOMENT. I'M NOT DOING ANYTHING REALLY WORTHWHILE… …AND WHEN I FAIL… MY GOD, I FAIL BIG. WE HAVE THE POWER TO CHANGE THE WORLD, EVE… …BUT INSTEAD THINGS JUST KEEP GETTING WORSE.” – Issue #81.

it’s not just some random thought he brushes off. you can tell it hits him. like... what if everything he’s been doing hasn’t actually changed anything? what if he’s just patching holes in something that’s already falling apart? it’s honestly a gut-punch moment because mark is usually so stubbornly hopeful. but even he isn’t immune to wondering if any of it’s enough. and it’s such an important part of who he is, he doesn’t just blindly believe everything’s fine. he feels it when it isn’t. he questions himself. he struggles with it. if you’re writing fanfic and you want to show a more introspective or vulnerable side of him, especially after something rough happens, this is the kind of feeling you want to tap into. not him giving up, but that raw, exhausted moment where he’s like, what’s the point if nothing ever really changes? it makes him feel real. because even with all the optimism and fight he’s got, sometimes the weight of it still catches up to him.

HOW TO WRITE HIS HUMOR/MORE LIGHT-HEARTED SIDE

mark isn’t all heavy drama and serious fights, he actually has a ton of light, funny moments, especially early on. like when he first starts getting his powers and his coworker asks him about his future, he just says

“finish high school, I guess.”

which is funny because he already knows he’s about to step into something way bigger.

there are little moments like that all over, times when he’s play fighting with william, or throwing out corny jokes, especially about stuff like science dog (his favorite comic, seance dog in the show). even though a lot of this guide focuses on the heavy, emotional stuff, it’s important not to forget these slice of life stuff

if you’re writing fanfics with him, adding in those little jokes or funny lines can really help keep mark in character. think about it like how spider-man cracks jokes during fights except mark’s version is a little less snarky and more dorky he jokes the most when he’s around people he’s comfortable with, and it’s not because he’s not taking things seriously it’s because that humor is just a part of who he is.

DISCLAIMER!

one of the biggest differences between comic mark and show mark is that comic mark is definitely rougher around the edges, especially early on. he’s not the super polished, always perfect hero type. in the early issues, mark can actually be kind of crude, he uses slurs (like the r-word) and makes some offhanded gay jokes, usually when he’s goofing around with william. it’s definitely surprising when you read it now, but it’s also important to understand that it’s part of his growth. it’s not written to make him look good, it’s showing that he’s a dumb teenage boy who hasn’t figured everything out yet. he says thoughtless, insensitive stuff because he’s young, immature, and still has a lot of learning to do.

and the comics let him grow.

later on, when william comes out to him, mark doesn’t just brush it off or make another dumb joke, he’s genuinely supportive. he accepts william without hesitation. and from that point on, you can see a clear shift, mark stops using slurs, stops making those kinds of jokes. it’s not a huge dramatic “lesson learned” moment, but the change is there. he matures. he gets it.

the show sort of skips over this whole messy, realistic part of his character arc. animated mark is a lot more careful and a little more "clean" from the start, he doesn’t really say anything offensive, and he’s framed as a lot more socially aware right out of the gate. which makes sense for a modern audience and a tv format, but it does smooth out some of the rough growth we see in comic mark.

comic mark’s early immaturity makes his later kindness and emotional intelligence feel earned. it’s not that he’s perfect, it’s that he chooses to grow, to be better, to really care about people in a way that goes beyond surface-level acceptance. that’s a huge part of what makes comic mark feel so real. he screws up, he says dumb stuff, but he listens, he learns, and he changes.

CONCLUSION AND FINAL NOTE!

at the end of the day, mark grayson isn’t about being perfect. he’s about trying. he’s stubborn as hell, emotional, sometimes reckless, and way more human than people give him credit for.

he holds onto what he believes even when everyone’s telling him to give up. he fights for the people he loves even when it costs him everything. he messes up (a lot), but he always, always tries to be better. that’s what makes him mark.

when you’re writing him, don’t be afraid to show all of it, the anger, the humor, the doubt, the stubborn hope that somehow refuses to die even when everything’s falling apart. he’s not supposed to be perfect or untouchable. he’s supposed to feel real.

sometimes he gets it wrong. sometimes he crashes and burns. but the point is, he keeps going. he cares even when it’s easier not to. and that’s why people love him.

i hope breaking all this down helps if you’re trying to write him, understand him better, or just see where he’s coming from. because when you really look at it, mark’s whole story isn’t about being the strongest guy in the room it’s about being the one who refuses to give up on people, even when it would be easier to stop caring.

thanks for reading! and honestly, if you ever feel stuck writing him, just go back to that core idea > he never stops trying. that’s who he is.

[yamumsyadadd]

hidden (3)

part 1, part 2.

this one is short, i had to find the best spot to cut it in half. there will be 1 more part :)

Returning home was supposed to be relaxing, but instead it filled you with anxiety. You hadn’t been bothered to turn your phone back on, not wanting to deal with Alexia’s excuses.

But as you sat in your childhood bedroom, the same room that saw you confuse your love to your best friend, the same room that you kissed in, you couldn’t help but feel a dull ache in your chest.

You want Alexia to be here, experience your childhood house, your parents and brothers to embarrass you with silly stories. But that wouldn’t be happening. Instead, you were stuck in your room silently crying.

There was only one place you could think to go. Portland was your home for so many years, it’s where you grew up, fell in love for the first time and soccer your first professional goal.

It didn’t take long for someone to join you. You knew who it was as soon as she sat on the swing next to you.

“Your mom is worried about you.” You didn’t look up, just continued to kick the bark beneath the swing, “do you want to talk about it?”

“I was seeing someone.” You looked up at her, really looking at her. She was older now, as were you, but she was still the girl you fell in love with, even if you weren’t in love with her anymore. “I love her Sam. I really do but I can’t kept being a secret. I didn’t even want to go public, just met her friends and family. Every time I tried to push it, she would snap, and we would fight. Loving her is so exhausting.” Sam let you sit there and cry, and when you were done, she reached over and hugged you.

“you don’t deserve to be a secret, if she cant love you loudly and proudly, then she doesn’t deserve to love you in private.” You knew she was right but that didn’t make it hurt any less. for while, you both just stayed there. It was like you were kids again, talking about everything and nothing, while swinging on the swings or sitting o the slides.

When camp started you felt lighter, you were focused and ready to go. After the last Olympics and the disaster of a world cup, you were prepared to fight as hard as possible to medal.

The USA was grouped with Germany, Australia and Zambia. Out of the three teams, Australia and Germany were the two toughest, you never knew how the games could go.

France in the summer was beautiful; it was the best place for the USA to play some beautiful football and you did. The first game was 3-0 win against Zambia, then another win against Germany and finally the hardest game you’d have to play, against Australia, winning 2-1.

The communication with alexia had been silent and you were glad for that. She tried a few times to call and text, but once her own camp started, she left you alone. The Barca girls didn’t though, the group chat with Cata, Pina and Patri was consistently going off.

Mainly the conversations were about the Olympics and a quick trip away before pre-season, expect there was one comment that made you hold your breath.

“Alexia is upset. Irene seems to be on the war path about it.”

To them it was just gossip, but to you. To you it made your chest tight, your hands clamming and your eyes hurt. Alexia had obviously mentioned something to Irene. Your other captain.

You threw your phone onto the desk and walked out. This was not the time nor the place for this. You needed to focus, to do better and be better. There wasn’t time for feelings or apologies. Later, if the time came, you could deal with it then.

As the Olympics continued on, you secretly watched Spain play. They were going well, by the time the knockout round came, you could see how exhausted they all were. It was their first Olympics, none of them had been here before, felt how exhausting it was, bone crushing, soul burning, exhausting.

You were sure Spain would make it through to the Gold Medal game, but when Monste didn’t start their best player, Alexia, a horrible feeling washed over you. By the time she could subbed on, it was too late. The damage had been done, Brazil had scored four goals and that was a lot for them to make up in less than thirty minutes.

As the camera panned over the Spanish team, their tears and disappointment was clear but it wasn’t until you saw alexia that a few of your own tears fell. Your heart broke for her, she looked so sad, so exhausted and you wished you could reach out but you couldn’t bring yourself to face the hurt again.

After your own game against Japan, your phone was blowing up, as it turns out, the Spanish girls had also watched. They sat through the entire 120 minutes, some cheering as you tackled and won back the ball. You must’ve watched the videos back three or four times, watching everyone’s different emotions.

The bronze medal match between Spain and Germany took place the day before your gold medal game. You were holed up in your hotel room, away from the conference room and your teammates. You wanted to keep a little bit of dignity.

When Spain went down 1-0, you almost cried. They were playing so hard, pushing their bodies as much as they would go but it wasn’t enough. There was hope, a minute before the end of the game, a penalty was given to Spain and you knew that Mario was the first in line to take them, but then she didn’t. Alexia did.

And she missed. Your heart broke all over again, and for different reasons. You knew she was getting older and by the next Olympics she might not even be playing or selected. When the game ended a minute later, your eyes stayed focussed on her. She went through the motions, shaking hands, swapping shirts, but you knew behind it all, she was broken and exhausted.

The only text you sent off was to the group chat, extending your apologies. You wanted to reach out, to say something, anything, but you were pulled away for dinner.

Everyone knew the game was going to be hard, this would be Marta’s last chance at an Olympics, a chance for someone completely different to win. But somehow, the football gods were in your favour. When you scored in the 57th minute, the team crashed onto you. All you could think about is holding the led, even scoring again.

At no point did you think to look at the crowd, it was something you didn’t do until the end of them game. So when the final whistle blew and the celebrations finally slowed down, you finally took the time to look around.

The stadium was packed, different people, friends, families, strangers all littered the stand. They were all there because they wanted to be, they wanted to enjoy the atmosphere and enjoy women’s football.

When you spotted your Barcelona teammates, a smile broke out on your face, you made your way to the barrier but stopped just before you reached them. Admits the team, there she was. A white tee shirt, jeans and her favourite sunnies covering her face.

Alexia.

For a split second, you let your emotions show all over your face, forgetting about the cameras and the people around. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything.

The girls all said their congratulations, gushing over how well you played and how proud they were. Only two people were silent, alexia you expected, but Irene you didn’t.

The post-Olympic celebrations carried on all night, the drinks were free, and the music was loud. You were so happy, almost the happiest you’d ever been. There was a moment, as the couple filled the dance floor, that hurt. You needed air and left.

You let the tears fall as you watched them all dance together, sharing their love with the ones around them, laughing and enjoying yourself. It made you remember the night on the beach with Alexia.

“After I win the Gold medal with Spain, we will go away. Somewhere quiet, on the beach, just the two of us.”

“oh you think you’re winning the gold over me?” you laughed as she scrunched her eyebrows.

“of course. I will win the Gold, and you will win the Silver. What is that Vicky says? We would be a power couple.”

“a power couple?” you laughed again as she pulled you into her and spun you around.

You didn’t hear the doors to the balcony open or the footsteps towards you. So when two different people wrapped their arms around you, it startled you.

“it’s okay baby girl. Your okay.” Christens voiced filled your ears and you couldn’t help but cry harder. You loved alexia, you loved her so much that for entire year you put your own wants and needs on hold. She was more important, and you would do anything to get back to her.

‘I’m in love with alexia Putellas… I don’t want to be a secret anymore… it hurts so bad.” You sobbed out, barely able to make any sense.

Sam had watched you leave the room in a hurry, she knew she couldn’t follow, she wasn’t what you needed anymore so she got Christen and Tobin. They would know what to do, they always did.

For an hour they sat with you, calming you down and sharing their own stories of their hidden relationship. By the end of it, you were exhausted, from playing a full came, the excitement and the sadness.

They helped you get into your hotel room, leaving you with water and Panadol for the incoming headache. Before you passed out from exhaustion, you finally let yourself message Alexia.

To Alexia: I am very sorry that you lost. You were defs the player of the Olympics, you deserved to win. You deserve everything Ale.

Your stupid drunk brain couldn’t just leave it there though.

I love you. I love you and you broke my heart, but I still love you. I don’t think ill stop.

You didn’t notice her reply in the morning or for the following weeks. Somehow, you had managed to mute the text thread with her in your drunken state. It wouldn’t be until you went back for pre-season that things would come out.

[internetdaddy98]

The Long Shift 

Previous | Next [Series Masterlist]

Pairing: Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x F!SeniorResident!Reader Summary: Dr. Robby and Y/N attempt to return to normalcy, but neither of them can stop thinking about each other. They try to keep their distance, but stolen moments betray their restraint. Word Count: 1.5 K Content Warning: Medical procedures, will most likely be medically inaccurate at times, unresolved tension.

The days after felt like an aftermath.

She’d slipped out of his apartment before dawn, her clothes quietly tugged on in the living room while he lay half-awake in bed, painfully aware of the absence beside him. The air still smelled like her, like the soft press of skin and sweat and sex and shampoo, and when he exhaled, it clung to his lungs like smoke.

She left behind a note, curled in his coat pocket, a single word: Sorry, early shift <3

Two days later, you were all business.

No one would have guessed that he'd had his hands between your legs two days ago, whispering things into your mouth that made you gasp and claw at his shoulders like he was the only thing tethering you to the world.

But he knew.

He watched you from across the trauma bay, tracking the path of your lips as you spoke to a family. Noticed how your hands trembled slightly when you passed him a chart. You didn't flinch when your brushed shoulders in the hallway, but you did go quiet, eyes downcast, breath a little too shallow.

You were trying so damn hard to be good.

But he could smell the memory of you on his skin.

The first stolen kiss happened in the supply closet. He hadn’t meant to follow you in. You hadn't meant to linger when you saw him behind you. But the moment the door clicked shut and the lights flickered dim overhead, you turned, and he stepped forward, just once, deliberately, and that was it.

You exhaled his name like a secret. "Michael" soft and unguarded.

He cupped the back of your neck and kissed you like he was starving. Like he was claiming something he never should’ve touched.

Your fingers curled into his chest like you needed something to hold onto, and when he pulled back, just enough to see the dazed, needy look in your eyes, he leaned in again, mouth to your ear, and murmured, “You think I don’t remember the sounds you make at night? You think I haven’t thought about them every hour since?”

You made a sound then, somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, and he nearly lost it again. But instead, he let you go. Walked away with his hands clenched at his sides and your taste still on his tongue.

The second kiss was worse.

Because it wasn’t planned.

Because it happened in the stairwell behind the ICU where no one went unless they were falling apart or hiding something.

You had followed him, god, you shouldn’t have, but you did. Quiet footsteps. Your voice saying, “Hey, can we talk?”

He turned to you, already raw. Already ruined.

“Okay,” he said. And then kissed you.

Harder this time. Desperate. His hands braced against the wall behind your head, caging you in, while you reached for his collar and dragged him closer like you wanted to disappear into him. When he pulled away, you were flushed and panting, lips kissed raw. Your fingers still clutched the fabric of his shirt like you weren’t ready to let go.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” you whispered. 

Good.

“Welcome to the club,” he muttered, then ran a thumb across your bottom lip before backing away like a man on fire.

He thought about you all the time now.

Your laugh when you let your guard down.

The curve of your thighs in his hands. The way your voice broke when you begged for more, quiet, breathless, “please” like you were still too shy to say what you really wanted.

He didn’t want to just have you.

He wanted to ruin you.

Take that stoic, soft-spoken exterior and fuck it out of you until you cried for him. Until you stopped being careful and just was. Just his. And yet, he still called you Dr. Sheridan in front of the interns.

Still said, “Good work today,” instead of come home with me.

Still walked away when your eyes lingered a little too long.

But it was fraying at the edges now, all of it. And when you smiled at him over an iced coffee cup in the break room, cheeks flushed from a run to trauma, he watched the way your lips wrapped around the straw and thought.

You’re going to be the death of me.

Night shifts had always been where he could breathe again. Until you started haunting them. Now every slow hour past midnight just made him hungrier.

It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed how you moved in a dark hallway, how your scrubs clung too well to the shape of your hips, how you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth when reading charts like you were doing it just for him. But lately, he couldn't stop watching you. Couldn’t stop wanting you.

You had this infuriating habit of standing too close. Smelling like warm skin and hand lotion. Soft eyes. Softer voice. A steel core beneath all of it that only showed when you were pressed hard enough.

He lived to press you.

And now, standing across from you in the dim hallway outside of the on-call room, he could feel your tension mirrored in him, tight, coiled, waiting for something neither of them could hold back.

You turned when you sensed him behind you, still sipping your coffee like it wasn’t a loaded gun between them.

“You avoiding me, Sheri?” His voice came out low, almost rough. Unshaven and feral around the edges.

Your gaze didn’t waver. “I’m not trying to.”

“But you are.”

There was something in your expression then, guilt, want, defiance. You wanted him to chase it down.

So he did.

He had you against the door before he even realized his hands had moved. Your breath hitched in surprise, but you didn’t pull away. And when his mouth found yours, finally, finally, you gasped like you’d been waiting to breathe again.

It was a kiss that was simmering for the past four hours, and it landed with the weight of everything unsaid. His hands were in your hair, tugging slightly at your top to expose your throat, his mouth dragging down the soft column until you whimpered.

He felt you arch into him, seeking, trembling, and God, he wanted to fuck you then and there.

He backed you into the bed, lowered you onto it with a grip too firm to be tender. You let him, your eyes wide and dark, pupils blown with need. And still, you reached for him like he wasn’t the one unraveling you, like you were going to be the one to break him.

Your scrubs came undone with a rough tug. His hands slid under the thin cotton of your top, palms roaming over your waist, ribs, the soft undercurve of your breast. When he rolled your nipple between his fingers and bit gently at your collarbone, you made a sound that snapped something in him in two.

A low, breathless moan that was only for him.

He groaned into your skin. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

“Yes, I do,” you whispered.

You didn’t make it to undressing fully. It was clumsy and fevered clothes half-shucked, your bare legs wrapped around his waist, his belt undone just enough. But it didn’t matter. He needed to be inside you more than he needed air.

And when it happened, when he finally slid into you with a desperate groan and you gasped his name into his neck, he swore he saw stars behind his eyes.

You were warm, tight, trembling beneath him. His hand cradled the back of your head, his other braced beside you, trying not to lose control. But it was no use. Your nails raked down his back, and he snapped his hips forward with a grunt, drawing another beautiful, breathy moan from your mouth.

He whispered her name like a curse. “Sher, fuck, sweetheart”

“Don’t stop,” you begged. “Please don’t stop.”

Like hell he would.

He moved rough and deep, dragging pleasure from you like it belonged to him. His mouth never left you, your jaw, your throat, your lips, like he couldn’t get enough, like tasting you meant keeping some piece of his sanity intact.

But he was losing it anyway.

You whimpered again when he bit down softly on your shoulder. A sharp growl escaped him, and he buried his face into your neck, thrusting into your core harder, rougher, deeper.

“I think about this every night,” he rasped. “I dream about the sounds you make. How I’d kill just to hear them again.”

“Michael” You moaned so sweetly, so shamelessly, and his rhythm stuttered.

He was gone.

You shattered together in the quiet dark, sweat-slick, shaking, breathless. He held you in place while he spilled inside you. And afterward, he held you close, your hair damp against his chest, your fingers tangled with his. He kissed your temple. Your cheek. Your lips, softer now, like a secret.

Neither of them spoke the words that hung in the air between their hearts.

But he knew them.

He was hers. He’d always been.

And he didn’t know how the hell to go back.

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[theclowningbusiness]

We Deserve It

Pairing:  Joel Miller x Reader

Tropes: Idk?

Warnings: Kissing, age gap (unspecified, but everyone is LEGAL, Joel has only known Reader while she is 18+, don’t be nasty)

Other tags: Joel Miller pushing ppl away for no reason <3, alfredo sauce even tho it’s the apocalypse (bc I said so), doesn’t necessarily follow the timeline of the games, yes horses can get the flu, it’s called equine influenza

Background: Before the world all went to shit, Joel Miller was your neighbor. 

Description: Just when you think you’re at the end of your rope, your savior appears. In the form of Joel Miller.

    You didn’t know how long you’d been walking, you only knew how tired you felt. With the lack of anything substantial to eat for the past week or so, you grew tired more quickly than you used to. You were truly at your end. With nothing else to give, you collapsed onto your knees, landing against the grass with a muffled thud.

    There was no hope. You didn’t know your exact location, only that you were probably somewhere in Wyoming. You didn’t have much food left. All that remained in your bag was an old bag of chips you had found and a half eaten granola bar. It was early spring, but after a Wyoming winter, there was still a chill in the air. A chill that your flimsy jacket didn’t stave off. 

    After all these years of fighting in this new world,  is this how you would go?

    Alone, exhausted, starving, cold. It was better than being infected, you thought.

    You closed your eyes, thinking that even just resting for a moment could keep you going just a little longer. Truly, in your heart, you weren’t ready to give up. You’d die fighting, pushing until the last second.

    You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting there when you heard the grass rustling behind you. Opening your eyes, you stayed silent, not yet aware of what or who may be behind you. Before you had the chance to try and turn to see what you could be up against, a voice spoke from behind you.

    “Put your hands up.”

    The voice belonged to a man. He sounded sure, commanding.

    You had no option to comply with his order, not when you heard the sound of a gun being adjusted in his arms. Lifting your arms, you held them up on either side of your head.

    Keeping your head down, you prepared for the worst. The man came to stand in front of you. All you could see was his boots and the bottom of his pants. At least it seemed to just be the one man.

    “Look at me,” he instructed, his voice still firm. “And don’t do anything stupid.”

    Complying with his request once again, you raised your head. As your eyes scanned his face, it took you a moment to focus and make sure you weren’t hallucinating. You knew this face. You’d seen it more times than you could count.

    Joel Miller. Seeing a familiar face had never felt so good.

    You could feel the tears of relief flooding your eyes. Joel had always been kind to you. He was a good man.

    It seems to take Joel a moment longer to recognize you, but when he does, the barrel of his gun drops. He pushes the gun out of his grip and drops to his knees in front of you. His arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you against his chest.

    All you could do was silently sob against him, your tears forming wet patches on the front of his jacket. As you sobbed, he rocked your body slightly with his, holding you tightly.

    “It’s alright,” he breathed out. His voice wasn’t so guarded this time. This was the Joel you knew. “I’ve got you, you’re okay. You’re okay.”

    You had never felt such relief in your entire life. Not a single moment could compare to the one happening now.

    Joel let you get everything out before he slowly pulled back enough to see your face as he spoke to you.

    “Can you stand up with me?” He asked, his eyes looking into yours.

    You nodded, worried that saying anything would only make you cry again.

    Joel stood up carefully, pulling you up with him. He kept his hands on your shoulders to make sure you were steady. He seemed to hesitate before he spoke again.

    “I have to ask,” he started, sighing. “Have you been bitten or scratched?”

    “No,” you managed to get out as you shook your head.

    “Good,” he gave a singular nod. “Let’s get you somewhere safe,” he added. After making sure you’d be stable enough to stand without his help, he let go. He removed his coat, draping it around your shoulders and pulling it together in the front.

    You’d never heard a better idea.

    “C’mon,” he breathed out, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to lead you back to where Ellie and Tommy stood with their horses.

    Originally, this was supposed to be a simple patrol. Joel hadn’t expected to find anyone. Especially not you.

    As the two of you approached Ellie and Tommy, the younger Miller brother’s jaw dropped.

    Before he could get a word out, Joel shook his head. Now wasn’t the time for questions, or reunions. It was time to get you home. Safe.

    Even Ellie seemed to sense some weird kind of tension and kept her mouth shut.

    Joel helped you get up on his horse before climbing on after you. When he was settled, you wrapped your arms around his waist, leaning your body against his back. You laid your head down on his shoulder and let out a deep sigh.

    “Let’s head back. We’ll send someone else out to finish the rest of the patrol,” Joel decided.

    The ride back to Jackson wasn’t too long, but you already felt better. Just the simple fact of knowing that it wasn’t the end was enough to help you perk up a little. By the time you were approaching the gates of Jackson, you weren’t leaning against Joel as much, and your head was lifted and looking at your surroundings.

    “They’re gonna bring the dogs out, Joel,” Tommy spoke quietly. “Are you positive that they aren’t going to alert? Neither one of us wants to see that.”

    “I’m sure,” he nodded. He hadn’t checked himself, but he trusted you.

    The four of you all got down from the horses. That’s when you heard the barking start.

    Joel stood in front of you as some others came out of the gate to take the horses and guide them back to the stables.

    “These dogs are just gonna come smell you,” he explained. “They’re trained to smell if someone is infected. As long as you aren’t, you’re gonna be fine, they won’t touch you. I need you to tell me right now if there’s a chance they’re gonna smell something.”

    “I promise,” you started, finding your voice, “There’s absolutely no chance.”

    Joel nodded, stepping aside.

    It was only a moment later that two large, barking dogs came running at you straight on. They circled you, their noses twitching as they sniffed at you. They didn’t smell any infection, and ran directly back to their handlers.

    You let out a breath of relief. Of course, you knew you weren’t infected, but if they smelled something wrong, it could’ve been over.

    Joel made his way back to your side, looking a little relieved himself.

    “Let’s get you some food,” he spoke, using a hand on your back to guide you into the gates of Jackson as Tommy and Ellie trailed along behind you.

    As Joel led you, you couldn’t help but look around in awe. Electricity, livestock, children playing, people having civil conversations. This was a slice of the world before. It was nearly unbelievable.

    “We should go talk to Maria, get some things set up for her,” Tommy suggested.

    “She needs to eat something,” Joel argued.

    “I can take her,” Ellie volunteered. “We’ll go eat and we’ll just wait there ‘til you’re done and come get us.”

    Joel weighed his options in his head. His jaw cocked to one side as he thought. He looked at you, one brow raised in question. He said nothing, but it was clear what he was asking. If you were okay with him leaving you with Ellie. You replied with a silent nod.

    “Alright, fine,” he agreed, eyes landing on Ellie again. “But don’t you go and start bugging her. She’s tired and hungry, she doesn’t want to put up with that.”

    “Yes, sir,” Ellie nodded, giving him a sarcastic salute.

    “Christ,” Joel muttered, shaking his head. “Go on, Tommy and I won’t be too long.”

    “Let’s go get some lunch, I’m starving,” Ellie hummed, making sure you were with her as she started walking through Jackson.

================

    “So,” Ellie began once you were both sitting down with your plates of food in front of you. “Who are you?” She asked.

    You couldn’t help but smile at how straightforward she seemed to be. You gave her name, but she only shook her head in response.

    “I mean like who are you? Like why does Joel give a shit?” She clarified her question. “He doesn’t usually just go hugging people. Especially not random people. So you gotta be someone.”

    “I knew Joel before the outbreak,” you replied. “We were neighbors before the entire world went to shit. He was always nice to me, and it looks like that hasn’t changed.”

    “Holy shit, you knew Joel before this?” She gasped, her jaw dropping. “What was he like?”

    You chuckled softly, finding her surprise amusing.

    “He was a good guy,” you shrugged. “He was always kind, we would joke around when we happened to bump into each other. I babysat Sarah a few times if he had something come up or he’d look at my car when it wasn’t working right. We didn’t know each other all that much, but we were friendly, I guess.”

    “What else?” She asked, leaning onto the table, clearly invested.

    “I don’t know what else there is to tell,” you answered honestly. “I don’t have any juicy gossip on the man or something. He really was just a good man, a great dad and brother, and a nice neighbor.”

    “Come on man,” Ellie playfully huffed. “There’s gotta be something interesting.”

    “I guess there is one thing,” you hummed. “But if I tell you, you’re sworn to absolute secrecy. You take it to the grave.”

    “Tell me,” she nodded, eager for whatever you were about to say.

    “Alright,” you breathed out. You looked around to make sure Joel hadn’t come to find you before continuing. “I used to have a huge crush on him when we lived next door.”

    “Ew!” Ellie laughed. “On Joel? Why?”

    “Because he was sweet and handsome,” you laughed softly with her. It felt nice to be able to laugh. “I was young, barely an adult, really, and he was my hot older dilf neighbor. It was just an innocent crush.”

    “Yuck,” Ellie shook her head. “I can’t even imagine that. Did you have a crush on Tommy too?” She joked.

    “No, I didn’t have a crush on Tommy too,” you chuckled. “I knew him too, saw him around sometimes, but not as much as Joel. But, now that I’ve answered your questions, I’ve got a few.”

    “Hit me,” Ellie nodded.

    “Where is Sarah?” You asked softly. The question had been weighing on you your entire ride to Jackson. 

    “Joel’s daughter?” Ellie frowned. “I don’t know exactly what happened,” she started. “But she didn’t make it.”

    “Oh my god,” you breathed out. You had expected the worst when Joel didn’t bring her up, along with the fact that she hadn’t been with him when he found you. That didn’t mean you wanted to accept it.

    Ellie stayed silent, unsure what to say while you processed what she’d just told you.

    After sitting in silence for a few moments, you spoke again.

    “How do you know Joel?” You questioned, wanting to move on from your previous question, deciding to process that later on your own.

    “We were in Boston, but he was coming here for Tommy,” she began. “And I needed to get here, so he brought me with him.”

    You nodded in understanding. Somehow Joel picking up a stray kid didn’t shock you.

    “What about this place?” You raised a brow. “I mean, how is this even here?”

    “It’s called Jackson,” she explained. “Joel and I haven’t been here that long, a little over a year. The electricity comes from the dam, the crops and animals are all communal. When we first showed up, Tommy didn’t even realize it was a commune until Joel pointed it out. You’ll have to ask Maria if you wanna know more about it, that’s really all I got.”

    “It’s kinda crazy,” you let out a breathy chuckle.

    “Wait ‘til you take a hot shower and sleep on a bed,” she smiled. “That’s even crazier, trust me.”

    “That sounds like heaven,” you admitted. “It’s been too long since I’ve done either of those things.”

    Before Ellie had a chance to reply to you, Joel and Tommy were walking over to the table and joining you and the girl. Joel took a seat next to you, while Tommy filled the chair next to Ellie.

    “We got everything ready for you,” Tommy said, leaning on his elbows on the table. “You’re gonna be staying in the free room at Joel and Ellie’s if that’s alright with you.”

    “That’s more than alright,” you nodded. “Hell, you could have me sleep in a barn and I’d just be grateful for the roof over my head.”

    “Well you should’ve said that sooner, we would’ve just cleaned out a stall,” Tommy joked, a playful smile on his lips.

    You laughed softly, shaking your head at the youngest Miller brother.

    “Ignore him,” Joel rolled his eyes. “We got the room set up for you. Maria picked out some clothes and things for you. They’re already in your room, and if anything doesn’t fit, we’ll find somethin’ else that does. I found you some new boots too, and Tommy found a coat that’s thicker than the one you’ve got.”

    “Thank you,” you smiled. “This is all, it’s almost too much,” you confessed. “I’m not even sure how to function in an actual town like this anymore.”

    “That’s alright,” Tommy assured, “You’ll get used to it. If Joel’s stubborn ass did it, you can adjust too, I’m sure.”

    “Shut up,” Joel huffed at Tommy before turning his focus to you. “He’s right though, about you adjusting. It’ll be strange at first, but then it sorta becomes a new normal.”

    “That sounds great,” you nodded. Adjusting to a life like this sounded amazing after living in a dog eat dog world for years on end. “I’d love to keep talking, but honestly, I’m exhausted. Can one of you show me to the house?”

    “Not until you get checked up,” Joel shook his head. “We’ve got a clinic here in town, it’s on the way back to the house.”

    “Alright,” you nodded. It was a reasonable request, and getting checked up on by a doctor wouldn’t hurt anything.

    “Let’s go, then I’ll take you home and you can get settled in,” Joel said as he stood up from the table.

    You stood as well, grabbing your plate from the table. You planned to take it wherever they asked, but Ellie took it from your hands. 

    “I got it,” she shrugged, “I gotta take mine anyways. You just go to the clinic with Joel.”

    “Thanks,” you smiled at the girl.

    Ellie just shrugged it off and grabbed her own plate before walking away from the table.

    “I’ll see you around, I’m sure,” you spoke as you gave Tommy a small nod. “Hopefully after a full night’s sleep on a bed,” you added as Joel placed a hand on your back to lead you out of the dining hall.

    “See ya,” Tommy nodded at you in return. “Get some rest.”

    You smiled softly. It was so nice to be surrounded by kind people for once. Especially ones that you knew.

    “It’s good to see you again, Joel,” you spoke as the two of you made it outside. “I wasn’t sure if you were even alive.”

    “I wasn’t sure if you were either,” he replied as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants. “That night, I did try to knock on your door,” he admitted.

    “I wasn’t home,” you shook your head, looking at the ground as you walked. “I had been over at a friend’s house.”

    Joel nodded silently, not sure how to reply.

    “I’m glad you’re the one that found me,” you hummed. “When I was out there, I thought I was nearing the end,” you confessed to him, “Then you found me. Thank you for bringing me back with you.”

    “‘Course,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I wasn’t gonna leave you out there alone.”

    “I know,” you nodded. “You were always nice to me, even back before the word fell apart,” you smiled. “I knew you wouldn’t leave me there.”

    “I’m just glad to know you’re safe,” he replied. “I always wondered.”

    “I can’t say I didn’t wonder what happened to you,” you said, lifting your head to look at him. “I uh,” you sighed your voice growing soft, “I talked to Ellie, she told me what happened. I’m sorry about Sarah, she was a great kid.”

    Joel’s jaw flexed and he chewed on his lips as he took in your words. You could see that he didn’t want to talk about it, so you gave him an out instead.

    “You don’t have to say anything,” you assured. “I just, I wanted you to know that I know.”

    Joel nodded, his jaw relaxing back into its normal position.

    Before you knew it, you and Joel were standing in front of Jackson’s clinic. He opened the door, letting you walk in first. He followed you in and walked up to the front desk. It was a slow day, so no other patients were there. The nurse at the desk greeted you both with a smile as she stood up.

    You were both led back into an exam room. You sat on the table as Joel sat on the chair that was pushed against the wall.

    “I’ll go grab the doctor for you,” the nurse hummed before heading out of the room.

    “It’s almost weird being at a doctor’s office,” you chuckled softly. “It’s like it was before.”

    “It’s something you have to get used to,” Joel nodded in agreement.

    There was a knock on the door before you had a chance to reply. The doctor opened the door and walked in, greeting you as she sat down on the small stool in the room.

    “I’m Dr. Morgan, but you can call me Jen,” she smiled.

    “I’ll step out so you can get on with your check up,” Joel said, standing up from the chair he’d been sitting in. “I’ll be in the waiting room.”

    “Wait,” you shook your head, reaching out to grab his wrist before he could leave. “Would you stay? Please.”

    Joel seemed confused by your choice, but nodded silently and sat back down.

    The check up went well and the doctor didn’t seem too concerned with your state. As she was wrapping up the visit, she sat down to look over the notes she’d taken.

    “Everything is pretty normal considering that you’ve been out on your own. I expected some things to be different because of that. It looks like you’re just gonna need some rest. You’ve been pushing yourself, with reason, of course, and your body needs to recover. Make sure you get plenty to eat and lots of fluids. Other than that, you seem healthy. If you need anything, feel free to come back.”

    “Thank you so much,” you breathed out. You were relieved that your time living on your own and nearly starving hadn’t had any sort of major effects on your health.

    “Of course,” she nodded, standing up and opening the door. “You guys can go ahead home. Just rest yourself, you need it,” she smiled softly at you.

    You gave her a nod and hopped down from the exam table. Joel stood up as well, and the two of you walked out of the room and left the clinic.

    “That wasn’t anything surprising,” you hummed. “I knew I needed food and water, and I definitely knew I needed rest,” you chuckled.

    “When we get back to the house, you can settle in, take a shower if you want, and relax,” Joel suggested. “If you wanted to take a nap, I’ll wake you up later for dinner,” he offered.

    “That would be great, Joel, thank you,” you nodded. “I can’t remember the last time I got to take a nap. Hell, it was hard to sleep at night, naps were out of the question.”

    “I know what you mean,” he agreed.

    As the two of you walked to the house, Joel pointed out some of the businesses and buildings of Jackson. He answered any questions you happened to think of during the walk. It didn’t seem like much time had passed at all as you walked up the steps to the house. Your new home.

    Joel opened the door and walked in, kicking off his boots by the door. You followed suit, walking in behind him and sliding your shoes off next to his while you pushed the door shut. Next, you slid off the jacket that he’d wrapped around you earlier and handed it to him. He hung it on a hook on the wall before walking farther into the house.

    “I’ll show you your room first, then you can explore if you want,” he decided aloud. He began to walk through the house, making sure you were following him as he did.

    As he opened the door to your room, you could hardly believe it. You had an actual room, with an actual bed, in an actual house. This was heaven, it had to be. You’d died, and this is where you went in the afterlife.

    “There’s a bathroom right off of your room, so you won’t have to share with me or Ellie,” he explained. “And I’m right down the hall if you need something. I’ll, uh, I’ll leave you to it so you can get settled in, but if you need me, I’ll be around.”

    You walked into the room, looking around. You let out a breathy laugh before turning around and wrapping your arms around Joel’s shoulders.

    “Thank you,” you smiled. “I don’t think I can ever pay you back for this,” you added.

    “You don’t have to,” he shook his head. His arms held your middle, returning the hug. “Just get some rest, okay?”

    “That I can do,” you nodded, pulling away from the hug. “I’m gonna grab a shower and then try and catch up on some sleep. Just promise you’ll come wake me up for dinner.”

    “Promise,” he confirmed, giving you a nod. Without another word, Joel turned, leaving your room and shutting the door behind him.

    Now that you were alone, you walked over to the bed to get a closer look at what had been left. Clothes that seemed to be your size, a coat, a new pair of boots, a couple towels and rags, and some hygiene products.

    You couldn’t believe it. This all seemed so unreal. Even if you were dreaming, you were sure as hell going to enjoy it while it lasted.

================

    Settling into Jackson was easier than you’d expected. It was an adjustment, of course, but you fell into a rhythm naturally. You certainly welcomed the change, and it had only been two months.

    Things had been amazing. You’d started being assigned different jobs, and you’d made some new friends. That wasn’t something you ever thought you’d do again. It was nice, having friends again. One of the closest friends you made was Tommy, which really wasn’t surprising.

    He had told you about what happened with him and Joel since the last time you had seen them. Some parts he chose to leave out, but you didn’t blame him. Everyone had done things they didn’t want to talk about after the world had changed. You’d never fault him for that. 

    During your time in Jackson, you’d also grown closer with Ellie. And of course, you grew closer to Joel as well.

    As you got to know Joel all over again, you could feel the old feelings of your crush returning. You tried to tell yourself that you were just feeling that way because he had saved you, but you knew you were just lying to yourself. Joel just had a way of giving you butterflies. It was ridiculous, he had you feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush.

    Joel was different, that much was clear. But you could tell that he was still the same man that would always lend a helping hand if you needed it. Underneath the gruff man that survived the apocalypse, there was still a kind soul.

    Despite your feelings, you never said anything. Having Joel as a friend (and housemate) is more important than trying for more and ruining things.

    “Hey, what time is dinner gonna be ready?” Ellie’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

    “What?” You hummed, shaking your head as you looked up from the alfredo sauce you had been stirring before your mind wandered.

    “Dinner,” she repeated. “I asked when it would be ready.”

   “Less than an hour,” you answered. “Sorry, I was caught up thinking.”

    “About what? Your crush on Joel?” She snickered.

    “I’m gonna regret telling you that, aren’t I?” You huffed, resuming your stirring.

    “Yup,” she nodded, walking farther into the kitchen and hopping up to sit on the counter.

    “Do you know if Joel’s gonna be home in time for dinner?” You asked, grabbing a spare spoon and dipping it into the sauce.

    “Should be,” she shrugged. “He likes when you make dinner, he can’t cook for shit. Doubt he’d miss it.”

    “Yeah, cooking was never his strong suit,” you laughed softly, offering the spoon to Ellie so she could share her thoughts on the sauce.

    Ellie took the spoon, tasting the sauce that was on it. She let out a hum, nodding in approval.

    “It’s good,” she complimented. “You’re a pretty good cook.”

    “Thanks,” you smiled, turning the heat down under the saucepan. “I can teach you sometime if you want,” you offered, reaching into the cabinet and grabbing a strainer to put in the sink.

    “Sure,” she nodded, “I can help you next time you make dinner.”

    “Sounds like a plan,” you hummed, grabbing the pot that you’d been boiling the pasta in. You took it to the sink, pouring it into the strainer.

    As you poured the pasta, you could hear the front door open. Ellie had been right, he wasn’t missing your dinner. You heard some shuffling and footsteps, then Joel was leaning against the doorframe leading into the kitchen.

    “Smells good in here,” he commented. “What’re you making?”

    “Pasta with alfredo sauce,” you answered, placing the pot back on the stove. “Ellie was my taste tester, she approves.”

    “Sounds good,” Joel gave a nod of approval.

    It wasn’t long before the three of you were sitting at the table, ready to eat dinner.

    “How was patrol today?” You asked Joel as you all started to eat.

    “Not bad,” he shrugged. “We didn’t come across anything too concerning. A few clickers, but nothing we couldn’t handle. What about your day? Everything okay at the stables?” He questioned in return.

    “Yeah, everything was great,” you smiled. “Zeus seems to be getting over the flu, he should be good to get back to riding any day now.”

    “Good,” Joel nodded.

    Before you knew it, dinner was over, and you were getting ready to wash up the dishes.

    “Need any help?” Joel offered, walking over and grabbing the soap.

    “Sure,” you hummed, “You wash, I dry?” You offered, picking up a dish towel.

    Joel gave you a nod and started running the water to get things started.

    “So, you guys came across some clickers today, huh?” You asked, leaning against the counter.

    “Yeah,” Joel replied, picking up the first plate and starting to wash it. “It was a small group of them, I think there were only four. Nothing too difficult to deal with,” he shrugged it off, handing you the plate.

    You accepted the plate, starting to dry it off with the dish towel in your hands.

    “Ellie and I were talking while I made dinner,” you began. “I’m gonna start teaching her to cook. She wants to help me make dinner next time I cook.”

    “Now you’ll both be better cooks than me,” Joel joked. “I can’t cook for shit.”

    “Yeah, Ellie was telling me about that earlier too,” you chuckled.

    The two of you fell into a rhythm as you washed and dried the dishes. You talked about random things. Joel’s next patrol, your shifts at the stable, going over to Tommy’s for dinner next week. Your shoulders were nearly bumping, and occasionally you’d nudge Joel’s arm with your own. It felt comfortable. Domestic.

    Eventually, you ran out of dishes, and your talk was coming to an end. As you put the last plate on the drying rack, you spoke.

    “We make a pretty good team,” you smiled, tossing the dish towel onto the counter next to the rack. You turned to face Joel, your hip leaning on the counter.

    “I’d say so,” Joel agreed, rinsing his hands before turning the water off. He grabbed a different dish towel and dried them off.

    “Finished this in half the time it would’ve taken me doing it alone,” you hummed.

    “I figured you cooked, least I could do was help you out with the dishes,” Joel reasoned.

    “I appreciate it,”  you nodded. It was only now that you realized how close you and Joel were standing. You kept your eyes on his, admiring the different shades of brown up close.

    “Any time,” he replied, dropping the dish towel onto the counter.

    “I’m really glad you found me and brought me back here,” you said softly. You knew he knew that already, but you felt as if you couldn’t tell him enough.

    “Of course. I couldn’t have left you out there,” he hummed out, his own voice softening.

    “Well, you could’ve. Plenty of people would’ve left me, or worse,” you sighed. “But you didn’t. You brought me here and gave me a safe place to live. I could never thank you enough for that.”

    “I couldn’t have lived with myself if I had left you,” he shook his head. “If it were anyone else, maybe. But you, I knew you before this whole world went to hell. I wasn’t leaving you behind.”

    His eyes looked so warm as they stayed on yours. You tried to reason with yourself. You were only imagining things because you had feelings for Joel. But on the other hand, your relationship with Joel just felt different. It felt like something more than a friendship.

    Then, you did something you’d never imagined having the courage to do.

    Stepping closer to Joel, you reached one hand up to gently hold one side of his jaw.

    Joel let out a soft sigh of your name, his hand coming up to grab your wrist and pull your hand away from his face.

    “I’m not the same man I was before,” he spoke quietly. “I’ve changed. You don’t know me anymore.”

    You could feel your heart drop into your stomach. A lump was already beginning to form in your throat. Pulling your hand away from Joel, you stepped back.

    “Right,” you nodded, looking anywhere but his face. “Well, thanks for helping with the dishes. I, uh, I should get some sleep. I’ve got an early shift tomorrow,” you stumbled over your words. Before Joel could reply, you practically ran out of the kitchen and to your bedroom.

    As the door was shut behind you, you leaned against the wood. You put a hand over your mouth as your eyes welled up. You’d fully embarrassed yourself in front of the one person you always wanted to impress. You weren’t sure how you’d face him again. 

    Laying in your bed, you stared at the wall, wondering if things between you and Joel could be normal again.

================

    You were caught up in your thoughts as you made your way to the stables. It had been two days since you’d talked to Joel. Things had been tense. Breakfast was awkward, and he hadn’t even been coming home for dinner. He’d been eating at the dining hall instead. You felt horrible.

    Walking into the stables, you were snapped out of your head when you saw a familiar face.

    “Hey, Tommy,” you greeted, giving him a small smile. “Didn’t know you were working here today,” you commented.

    “I switched out with Daniel,” he explained. “I wanted to see how Zeus was doing after being sick,” he added. He turned to the aforementioned horse, giving him a pat on the nose.

    “He’s doin’ really good,” you replied, walking over and giving Zeus a pet down his mane. “I can tell he’s feeling a lot better.”

    “Good,” he nodded in approval. “Listen, Zeus isn’t the only reason I switched shifts,” he sighed. “I wanted to talk to you.”

    “You could’ve just asked to talk to me,” you chuckled softly. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to talk to Tommy. He was a close friend, after all.

    “Wanted to make sure Joel wouldn’t be around,” he reasoned. “He’s been pissy for the past couple days. I was wonderin’ if you knew what was going on.”

    You stayed silent for a moment, distracting yourself with petting Zeus gently. He nuzzled into your hand, making you smile sadly. After a moment of internal debate, you decided to tell Tommy what had happened. You knew you could trust him.

    “It’s my fault,” you admitted, keeping your eyes on Zeus instead of having to look Tommy in the eyes. “We kinda, I don’t know what to call it, we had a weird moment. We were talking and having a nice talk, and then I misread things.”

    “Misread things?” Tommy asked, urging you to continue.

   “I almost kissed him,” you spoke quickly, wanting to rip off the bandaid. “And he stopped me, told me he wasn’t the man I knew anymore. So I went off to bed, and we haven’t talked since. He doesn’t even come back to the house for dinner.”

    Tommy was quiet. You grew worried, so you finally lifted your gaze to look at him. He looked confused.

    “Are we talking about the same man?” He spoke. “Joel, my brother. You’re telling me he said that to you?”

    “No, the other Joel,” you deadpanned. “Yes, Joel, your brother. Why wouldn’t I be talking about him?”

    “Because he’s always been real fond of you,” Tommy replied as if it was obvious. “Even before the outbreak. He just figured you were too young to be into him,” he shrugged. “He’s even talked about you since coming to Jackson. He said a few times that he wished  you were here. That he wondered what ever happened to you.”

    You didn’t speak. You stood there, your mouth open, but no words coming out. That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting Tommy to say. You tried and failed to get out something that made sense. All you managed was a few random syllables.

    Turns out, you didn’t need to say anything. Tommy knew you well enough.

    “Go find him,” he chuckled. “He’s working on fixing up a house a couple streets over from here.”

    Without another word, you nodded and walked out of the stables. You had to get to Joel and talk to him. You were practically running through Jackson until you came across the job site. Slowing down, you walked over and asked Ben, another former contractor, if he knew where Joel was. He informed you that he was around back, working on the back steps of the house.

    Following Ben’s directions, you rounded the house, trying to calm your nerves the most you could. You turned the corner and immediately spotted Joel. He was hunched over the bottom stair, pulling it off so he could replace it with a new board.

    “Joel,” you called out as you walked closer.

    Joel’s head popped up and he blinked a few times as he saw you.

    “Can we talk?” You finally asked once you were standing in front of him.

    The man in front of you stood, wiping one hand over his forehead to wipe the sweat away.

    “Yeah, sure,” he nodded, but he was stiffer than he used to be. He informed another man working on the house that he’d be back in a little bit.

    The two of you began to walk, making your way down the street so you could have some privacy. You wound up in the yard of an unoccupied house and finally stopped. Glancing around, you made sure that no curious ears were nearby.

    “I talked to Tommy,” you began nervously. “He asked me what was going on with you. So, I told him the truth.” Your voice was soft, maybe even a little unsure. “He told me about how you feel. About me, I mean.”

    “What did he tell you?” Joel asked, and you could practically hear him gulping.

    “He told me that you had feelings for me, before all this,” you answered. “And that you talked about me. Wishing I was here.”

    Joel was silent, unsure what to say.

    “I guess what I wanna know is if it’s true or not,” you finally said.

    “It is,” Joel confessed. “All of it’s true,” he confirmed.

    “If it’s true, why did you push me away?” You asked. “I  just, I don’t get it.”

    Pausing, Joel took a deep breath.

    “I don’t deserve you,” he replied simply. As if it was obvious.

    You sighed, taking a step closer to the man. You lifted both hands, placing them against his chest.

    “You’re a good man, Joel. I have never once doubted that,” you assured. “You deserve to have someone. We managed to find each other at the end of the world, against all odds. I think that means that we deserve to give this a shot. To give us a shot.”

    Joel’s hands come up to lay over yours, and for a moment you’re worried that he’s going to push you away again. Your nerves are calmed when, instead, he guided your arms around his shoulders. He leaned in, his own arms wrapping around your middle. 

    Slowly, his head dips down, his lips hovering just over yours. Unwilling to wait another second, you close the gap and press your lips against his. It was better than you could’ve imagined. You were melting into the man holding you, and you couldn’t be happier.

    Joel was the first to pull away, wanting to speak.

    “Are you sure?” He asked, his voice barely more than a mumble.

    “Never been more sure about anything,” you answered.

    Joel smiled at you, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he did. You had always loved his smile. He leaned in, giving you another quick kiss.

    “I should get back to the job,” he spoke, but made no move to pull away just yet.

    “Yeah, I need to get back to the stables to help Tommy,” you agreed. “I’ll see you at home tonight,” you smiled.

    “I won’t be late,” he responded, finally, reluctantly, letting go of you.

    “I’m cooking tonight. Are you gonna be home for dinner?” You asked.

    “Wouldn’t miss it,” he nodded. “Won’t miss it again,” he added, pecking your forehead.

    Joel gave you one last kiss before starting to walk back to the house he’d been working on. You had a wide grin on your face as you walked back to the stables. You knew there would be some teasing from Tommy, but it was worth it.

============

    “So, did you two finally get your shit together?” Ellie asked bluntly.

    You had all been sitting together in the living room after dinner, a Friends DVD playing on the tv. Ellie sat in an armchair while you and Joel sat next to each other on the couch.

    “What?” Joel furrowed his brows. “What the hell does that mean?”

    “Well it’s obvious that you’re in love or some shit,” she shrugged.

    You laugh softly at her response, shaking your head.

    “Hey, you shouldn’t be laughing,” Ellie stopped you. “Not when you’ve had a crush on Joel since he was your- what did you call it?- Hot older dilf neighbor?” Without another word, Ellie stands up and leaves you to explain yourself to Joel.

    You blink a few times before looking over at Joel, who was looking right back at you.

    “So I was your hot older neighbor, huh?” He grinned.

    You reach out an arm to smack his chest playfully.

    “Why else do you think I always happened to be outside when you were doing yard work without a shirt on?” You laughed, “I’m not religious, but I would thank God for making the Texas sun so fucking hot to work in.”

    “So you were ogling me?” Joel asked, his jaw dropped.

    “Oh yeah. Definitely ogling,” you nodded. There was no point in hiding it.

    “Here I was thinking I was perverted for liking a younger woman,” Joel huffed. “Turns out you were eyeing me like a piece of meat.”

    “The pervert was me the whole time,” you joked. “Just staring at your tits in the sun.”

    Joel laughed softly before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips.

    “That’s it,” he spoke against your lips. “You’re delusional, we’re going to bed.”

    Loving Joel was easy. Knowing that he came home to you each night, that he was finally yours after all those years of pining, it made living life in the apocalypse feel simple.

[wispitty]

(short reacts) | "you had a shitty day and need a hug" + one piece men

summary: you're having a shit day and stomp up to them, no words, no context and just hug them.

characters: crocodile, mihawk, marco, ace, shanks, law, corazon

• ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ •

CROCODILE

He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t speak.

Just sets his cigar down and pulls you in tighter—his hook braced on the small of your back while the other gently cradles your head.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs.

He doesn’t ask what’s wrong. Not yet.

He just lets you breathe. And protects you like you’re the last warm thing in a world gone cold.

Later? He’ll send Mr. 1 to find out what made you feel like this. And if it's a person? Hoo boy.

MIHAWK

You crash into his chest. He stiffens for half a second—then one arm comes up around your back, steady and strong.

His other hand goes to your hair, slow and quiet, fingers running through the strands like he’s counting breaths.

“Bad day?” You nod. “Then take your time.”

He stands there with you. No rush. Just silence, wine-scented warmth, and you being safely pressed into the strongest man you know.

MARCO

You stomp up. He sees you coming.

You don’t speak. You just wrap your arms around him, head in his chest.

He’s already hugging you back.

“Hey, hey. I got you, sweetheart.”

His voice is gentle. His hand moves in soothing circles on your back.

“You don’t gotta talk. Just breathe with me.”

You melt into him. He smells like ocean breeze and clean cotton.

The rest of the world? Doesn’t exist anymore.

ACE

You slam into his chest. Hard. He stumbles back, blinking.

“Whoa—hey, hey, what happened?!”

You don’t answer.

You just bury your face into him.

And without thinking, he wraps his arms around you. Tight. Protective.

“You don’t have to say anything. I’m right here, okay? I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

He’s warm—literally. His heartbeat under your ear is fast. He’s worried. But he lets you cry. Lets you cling.

And whispers dumb jokes later to make you laugh through the tears.

SHANKS

You crash into him mid-convo with someone else.

He immediately goes quiet.

His hand comes up to cradle the back of your head.

“I'm here, baby. I'm here.”

He doesn’t make a scene. Doesn’t tease.

Just holds you, his chin resting on your head, as he rubs slow, grounding circles between your shoulders.

And he returns to his conversation with you in his arms like it's the most natural thing in the world.

Later he’ll ask, softly, when you’re ready.

But for now? He lets you take everything you need from him.

LAW

You latch onto him. No warning. No explanation.

He freezes. Brow furrows. He looks down at you—

And something shatters in his guarded little heart.

His arms come around you. Stiff at first. Then tighter.

You open your mouth to say something, but he interjects.

“…Don't. Don’t talk. Don't move. Just stay put.”

It sounds like an order.

But it’s not. It’s him saying, “Let me be your shelter, just this once.”

He doesn’t speak again. He just holds you longer than you expected.

And you feel safe.

CORAZON

You cling to him like he’s a lifeline. No words.

He reacts immediately. Wraps his coat around you. Holds you so close you can’t even tell where you end and he begins.

You feel him press a kiss to the top of your head.

No notebook.

No scribbled jokes.

Just silence and the warmth of someone who would give you his whole heart without asking for anything back.

And when you finally look up, tear-stained and small?

He’s smiling.

Because you came to him. And he's always be here for you.

[blastzachilles]

— Girls .ᐟ

CHARACTERS: BASSIST FUTCH!PAT x FEM!READER WORD COUNT: 2.3k CW: SMUT 18+, afab reader. fingering, oral (f!receiving), somewhat inexperienced reader, mentions of alcohol/cannabis, author has an unpacked hand kink and really likes bassists????, author who has never been to a party and gotten drunk tries writing about a party and getting drunk

a/n: happy late challengersversary!!!! baby’s first smut <3 . even if im posting last (need to even out the angst and smut). kind of happy with how this turned out. also thank you mel for the band name nod 100 emoji link to main post!

— You don’t know why you’re here right now. 

You have tons of homework you should be doing, and finals season is just around the corner. But your friends swore you were in dire need of going out, and that was that. They got you ready and (literally) dragged you off to this party. 

This party that your friends said would be fun. Sure, fun. Fun’s the reek of alcohol and weed, couples making out, and intoxicated people passed out, everywhere. They clearly don’t know you. 

Empty solo cup in hand, you make your way through the crowd to the backyard for some fresh air, sitting on the edge of the patio and basking in the cool breeze that comes with the late hours of the day. 

Until you see a crowd of people walking back inside the house. Oh yeah, your friends had told you about this. There was going to be ‘live entertainment.’ Which usually meant some shitty college boy band that was just trying to get into people’s pants. No thanks.

But for some reason, you find yourself walking back inside anyway, pushing through the crowd to get a few rows in front of the makeshift stage. Then the band walks out, and you look over the members. 

When you see them, you short circuit. 

You tune out every other noise but the sound of rushing blood in your ears as your heart starts to pound, hands going clammy with sweat. Thank god the lights are dimmed, is your only thought as you feel the blood rushing to your rapidly warming cheeks. 

You miss the band’s name, and their little introduction leading up to their first song. But you don’t really care, your eyes don’t leave whoever that is up there, playing the bass. 

The hottest person you’ve ever seen. 

Dark curls, broad shoulders, and a face that looks like it was carved by Michelango himself. They’re in a tight white tank that leaves little to the imagination, and black cargos with a statement belt. You’re mesmerized, and you feel yourself staring in a way that many would deem disrespectful. 

When you manage to tear your eyes away from their face, as the band introduces their next song, you decide to look them over. 

Big mistake. 

The first thing you settle on is their casual stance, almost like nothing can bother them. Then follows their legs–they definitely work out–and then comes their shoulders.

Those are great. Both of them. 

But it’s their hands that really get to you. Their fingers plucking the strings like it’s nothing. Like it’s second nature to them. It gets you thinking about what else they– 

That thought immediately goes south, and you feel the need to squeeze your legs shut, just a little more. 

Using what feels like superhuman strength to rip your eyes off their hands, you look back up to their face, only to be met with their eyes already locked onto you. A slow smirk crawls onto their face, and you feel like you’re going into cardiac arrest, like you’re not really alive and instead in some sort of dream sequence. 

The world falls away as your eyes bore into theirs, like you two are the only people who exist. You hold their gaze for what feels like forever before they tear theirs away again to play the next song, and while the moment feels broken, it doesn’t exactly feel over.

Especially when their set has finally finished, and while the band you still don’t know the name of packs up, you turn on your heel to rush to the bathroom. You need a moment after that. 

But you don’t get twenty steps in before someone catches your arm, stopping you in your tracks. Turning around, you find yourself meeting the gaze of them. The bassist. From the band. The one you were ogling so hard, it probably looked like you had googly eyes. 

“Pat.” 

“Huh?” you stammer out. 

“The name. It’s Pat.” 

“Oh! Yeah, yeah, of course.” you say, introducing yourself. “You were great up there. You–you all were. I really liked your band, uh–” 

“Phil’s Tire Town?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. That.” 

“Yeah,” a small breath escaping Pat’s lips as they chuckle softly. It’s confident, like they know they’re hot and run with it. “Saw you staring at me the whole set. You here with anyone?” 

“Was with my friends, but they’re… elsewhere. Around.” You look around the room to see if your friends are anywhere, but they’re not. They’ll check in later, that’s how this usually goes.

“No… partner?” 

“Oh!” you laugh. “You mean that way. Oh, no.”

Pat laughs back, and you feel like your heart has skipped at least five beats. “You sound so sure of that.”

“Well, yeah, I am.”

They let out a little ‘hm’ at your words, nodding with interest before looking down at your solo sup, still empty. “You, uh, you drinking anything?”

You catch Pat’s gaze, and look down at your solo cup, trying to play it off like it hasn’t been empty the whole night. “Oh, yeah. Just finished the cup. Was about to head over to the bar to get myself another cup.”

“Definitely.”

“Yeah, definitely.” you laugh awkwardly. 

Then Pat walks past you, and your smile falls, your gut dropping as you prepare yourself for the worst.

But then they turn around to look back at you. 

“You coming?”

And you’re following behind them faster than ever. 

After you get to the kitchen and start drinking with Pat, the night goes by like something of a blur. You spend upwards of an hour laughing as you slowly progress further and further into an intoxicated state, and eventually, sometime around two, decide it’s time to get up and leave.

“I should, uh, I should head out.” you giggle, the alcohol starting to get to you.

“You sure? The party’s just starting.” Pat chuckles. 

“Yeah, positive…” 

“Let me walk you home then.” They say, with a tone that indicates they’re in it for something else.

“No… you don’t hav’to–” 

Pat grabs your arm, and you quickly shut up. “Please, I insist.”

“Okay.”

The walk back to your dorm is slow but enjoyable, you and Pat basking in the early morning breeze, giddy with intoxication. 

When you stop outside your door, Pat’s still with you, and the air feels charged. There was tension at the party, but not to this degree. You swear you could cut through this with a butter knife. 

“Well, I guess this is goodnight.” they say.

“Yeah. I guess this is. Goodnight, Pat.” 

“Goodnight.”

Neither of you move though. 

Instead, you’re both staring into each other as though trying to decipher who each other is just from a glance. Like you’re trying to crawl inside them and find out who they are, what makes them tick, and what gets them going. At least that’s what you’re doing. You can only hope they’re doing the same.

Heart pounding and hands clammy, you inspect Pat, their eyes, their face all over, and you sense your thoughts starting to wander and–

That’s why they call it liquid courage. 

Your lips crash against theirs, your kiss hungry and desperate, like their breath is the only oxygen you need. 

It happens in a matter of seconds. 

You pull them into your dorm, the kiss barely breaking, clothes being torn off and forgotten on the floor, as it registers in your head what you’re about to do.

“I’m–I’m not–” 

Pat helps you to your knees, sitting on the edge of your bed and spreading their legs. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you.” 

You nod, leaning in to rest your head on their thigh, kissing at it, getting soft gasps out of them that leave a grin on your face.

Pat’s hand finds its way into your hair, bringing your mouth closer to where they’re expecting you, and you look up at them, eyes wide in a way that shoots south. 

When your tongue darts out to give a small lick at their cunt, you grin against their folds when they let out a soft moan.

“Fuck yeah, baby. You feel that? That’s all for you.” 

As you lick again, a long stripe along their cunt, they push your head further in between their legs, your eyes still looking up at them. 

“Oh god, yeah. Yeah, that’s good.” They moan, head falling back as you keep going. 

You’re not really sure if you’re actually doing that good, but if they’re making those noises, you can only hope you’re doing something right. 

Burying your face deeper in their cunt, you circle their clit with your tongue, sucking softly before moving a little lower to delve your face into their folds once more, pushing your tongue inside Pat as their moans become louder and more frequent. 

“Oh, yeah—Fuck, I’m gonna—Fuck! I’m so close—Just a little more. Just—Oh!” Pat cries, their legs shaking around your head, grip in your hair tightening as they reach their climax, coming all over your face as you try to lap it up, prolonging their orgasm. 

When they’re done, they’re breathing heavy, head falling forward as their hand falls out of your hair, and you press a few kisses to their inner thighs. 

After a few moments, they perk up again, and smile down at you. 

“Okay. Your turn.” Pat huffs out, clearly spent from finishing, as they help you up and lead you over to your bed, lying you down. 

“Okay.” You gasp, grinning, face still glistening with their orgasm.

“Let me take care of you.” they whisper, leaning in and pressing their lips to yours again, before peppering them along your jaw, to your neck, to your collarbone, and then your chest. The intensity of it all makes you gasp, your mind fuzzy as though you’re in some sort of haze. You’re half aware of Pat’s hands rubbing your thighs as you watch their tongue circle your quickly hardening nipple, before they close their lips around it and begin to suck softly. The action elicits small mewls from you, your back arching and pushing your chest further into their mouth, making the feeling all the more intense. 

You feel like you’re in a dream, but come back with a protesting gasp as Pat lifts their head up and removes their mouth from your chest. 

“Hey!–” 

“Easy, babe.” they chuckle, a satisifed smirk on their face, their green eyes on you as they squeeze your thigh slightly. “Saw you staring at my hands while I was playing. You like ‘em?” 

Your face somehow manages to feel even hotter than it already does, but you give a small nod regardless. “Yeah. Who wouldn’t?”

They make a face as though to contemplate that answer, bobbing their head side to side. “Eh, good point. You wanna learn what else they’re good for?” 

It’s such a stupid line, but that paired with the cocky smirk on Pat’s face absolutely destroys any sort of self-preservation you have, and you’re quick to give in. “Yes. God, yes, please. I’ve been thinking about it since I first saw you.” 

“I know.” Pat’s voice is low, quiet, as they drag their fingers up along your inner thigh, reaching your cunt and running a finger along your folds, getting a few whimpers from you. “Yeah, that’s it, baby. Just like that. Such pretty noises, just for me. So wet, just for me.” 

It’s not a question, but you feel the need to answer it anyway. “Yeah–yeah. Wet, just for you.” 

Pat’s smirk widens at that, and they begin to ease a finger inside you. “That good? Yeah?” 

If the way you moan and your back arches is any indicator, it’s very good. So good Pat eases in another, sliding the two fingers in deeper as you grab at their shoulders. “Easy, baby. That’s it. Yeah, that’s good.”

And then Pat starts to curl their fingers inside you, repeating the motion, and you think you just might black out. You’ve never felt anything like this, and it’s like Pat’s been doing this to you forever, as if know every little thing that makes you moan and gasp and whine like never before. 

And when you start squirming, hips rolling erratically against their hand, signaling you’re close, Pat pushes their fingers knuckle deep to work you to your brink.

“Fuck, Pat! I’m gonna–gonna–”

“Yeah, that’s it. Come for me, baby.” 

“O-ok–Yeah–Oh! Fuck!” you moan sharply, finally being brought to your brink as you release all over their hand, releasing a stream of liquid as you squirt. Your legs shake, and Pat keeps working you through your whole orgasm. 

“That’s it, baby. Yeah, just like that. Beautiful.” 

Your chest is heaving with exertion, a wave of exhaustion coming over you after enduring such a brutal orgasm. 

“God, that was…” 

“I know.” Pat grins. 

You grin up at them, and with a final kiss, you say your goodnights, Pat’s warm body wrapped around you from behind as you fall asleep, spent and satisfied.

The next morning, when you wake up in your dorm, your hangover leaving you with a killer headache and your clothes still strewn across the floor, you feel it before you look to your side. The spot where they were sleeping, now empty and cold, the clothes they threw on the floor now gone. And when you reach for your phone, you feel a sticky note on top of it, taking it off to read it. You scoff to yourself, looking at their number on the note, on top of a ‘call me ;)’ written underneath.   

Maybe your friends were right. These parties are fun.

tag list: @artstennisracket @glassmermaids @jordiemeow @cha11engers @kaalxpsia @apatheticrater @tacobacoyeet @tigerlilywl @newrochellechallenger2019 @compress1repress @artspats @artaussi

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[gakukitty]

how would some of the sakadays guys be like with a clingy partner? their love language is physical touch or quality time and without it they literally wilt like a plant. im not sure who to request for? shin, heisuke, nagumo, gaku, kei, whoever! its up to you

clingy cling cling — ✦ — masterlist

featuring . . . shin asakura , heisuke mashimo , nagumo yoichi , gaku , kei uzuki , shishiba , natsuki seba ( multi , seperate ) x clingy! reader

note ; i was considering adding tenkyu here bc i wanna start writing for him but im too sleepy ,,, next time teust :33 !!! sorry if this is baaaddd :’( especially gaku and kei’s ine , i feel like those were bad but ts ok !!!! i hope you guys liiiiokkeeee iiittttttt <33

note ; also , sorry for making these so short !! i sort of lost the plot and didn’t know how to continue it , at fiest i wanted to make them sort of hcs but then i was like “idkkkkk” so i didn’t … anywaus , i might make a better version once i’m done with all my other works !!!

gaku ✦

“what’re you doing—?” your boyfriend half-grumbles, lifting a muscular arm for you to crawl under. it’s not uncommon for you to slither your way into his grasp— especially when he’s the busiest. don’t you know that he’s busy playing games?

you do know. but you just don’t really care. and honestly, gaku wouldn’t have it any other way. so, he’s happy to adjust his hold on you and let you shift closer, resting his cheek against the top of your head. this just adds another level of challenge to his game; he’ll see how long he can last focusing on his game before he tosses it aside in favour of reciprocating your hug.

it doesn’t take long for that to happen— because deep down, your dear boyfriend gaku is just as clingy as you. the man’s more than willing to let you trail behind him to wherever— okay, maybe not to some places, but he’s sure to send a message and leave a warm sweater for you on the rare occasion he’s not in your presence.

kei uzuki ✦

the man just glances over to you, gaze focused on the expression on your face— it’s one that he knows very well. so, uzuki just holds out a slender hand of his and gives you a soft smile.

you’re quick to take the opportunity, your hand reaching out for his. your fingers intertwine, and kei’s smile just widens slightly when you squeeze his hand. he’s used to this, your love of touching him and being near him. and i’m all honesty, uzuki really likes it.

moments like these, where the two of you looking through a bookstore for another book he can read.. while you sit beside him, your head on his shoulder as the two of you sit in comfortable silence.

nagumo yoichi ✦

he freaking loves you and is more than happy to have you around him at all times !! nagumo can be a bit irritating though, with all his teasing :’(

“aww, what’s that? you want me to stay looonger?” nagumo drawls, glancing back at you. the man was just getting ready to hop out of bed for work— but that cute little voice you just did reeaalllyy does something to him. so, with a soft, mocking sigh, your boyfriend lays back down. his limbs tangle with yours, his smile wide as he shifts closer. this is the life, he thinks.

heisuke mashimo ✦

at first, dear heisuke was just a little sigh. “you— you wanna spend time with me?” he’d blink, gaze darting around in search for cameras— because there’s no way you’d want to willingly hang around him !!

but, there is a way— and heisuke is overwhelmed with pure joy when your hand finds his. he’s grown to cherish your shared moments, his eyes sparkling with adoration whenever he wakes up with you clinging onto him, and his heart beating just a little faster when you ask him to stay with you longer before leaving.

oh, but his absolute favourite thing in the whole entire world is when you message him. the poor man has to lift a hand to clutch at his chest in attempt to stop his heart from beating so fast. you miss him? you MISS HIM???!!!!

shin asakura ✦

shin could tell from the start that you were the type who valued closeness and quality time. not only because of his abilities, but because of the way your hand would reach out for his slightly every now and then. or maybe it’s the way your eyebrows would furrow whenever he said he had to go somewhere— or, it could be when you’d linger for a little longer around him.

whichever one it is, shin noticed. so without you even asking about it or mentioning it, he grabs your hand gently. the man just flashes you a smile, lacing your fingers together and shifting slightly closer. even with the rather.. direct approach that he’s taking, it’s hard to hide the way his cheeks flush at that smile on your face.

he’ll spend all the time in the world with you if it means you smile like that again.

shishiba ✦

like shin, shishiba also noticed pretty early on. he was much more gentle about the way he went about it; he started with inviting you out to dinner one night. he had already known for a while that you appreciated quality time— so he was more than happy to spend time with you.

every now and then, during your dates, he likes to hold your hand. or, if you’re eating out; his foot sort of drifts towards yours. even the smallest of touches mean something, to both you and him.

he also makes sure to always wake up just a little earlier so the two of you can spend more time together in bed before he has work— the feeling of you beside him is one of the best things this world can offer, in shishibas opinion.

natsuki seba ✦

natsuki is similar to you— he also loves spending time together. so, one of his favourite things is when you come to visit him when he’s busy working. natsuki’s never too busy to be with you— your boyfriend loooovvvessss having you just sit beside or near him, sometimes listen to you talk or just sit in silence, enjoying each other’s company.

however, he has to admit that he quite likes spending nights with you. his arms find their way to your waist, his head immediately shifting to rest against your shoulder. the man can be quite clingy when he feels like it; but he knows that you’re the same. and he fucking loves it— he loves you.

© gakukitty please don’t copy my work , repost it and claim as your own , translate , or use it to train ai ♡

[glassbxttless]

Or maybe the bin man gets an eyeful one day and he starts paying extra attention to your bins in particular 😅

Tea

michael (hoard) x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k+

summary: michael meets a girl on his bin route, and maybe she’s feeling just the same.

warnings: michael’s gets a bit of an accidental peep show (just your panties!), might be a little out of character but i’m setting up a timeline lmao

notes: this is a shorter one i’ve been saving for a day I had nothing to post— but here’s a big thank you to Tara for sending this one in. It’s basically stemmed an entire AU in my head, so get ready. Big thanks to @peachyproserpina @prettycalla and @getaapologist for reading over this too!

The bin men usually come around seven in the morning.

You’ve got your routine down to a science— you drag the bin down the walkway the night before, give a quick glance at the weather, and have a cup of tea at your windowsill while you start your day. Most of the time, you don’t even notice more than the hum of the lorry as they pass. They’re part of a moving background, like the milkman or the number 32 bus.

But Michael?

Oh Michael, he notices you.

It starts on a Tuesday. You’re running late. Your hair still damp from a too cold shower, cotton robe pulled onto your shoulders but still untied, and the bin— of course, the bin— still needed pulled up the drive. “Shit.” You mutter to yourself as you dart out barefoot, dragging it to the curb just as the lorry turns the corner. You wave in apology to them. One of the men nods back, so you shoot them another apologetic smile.

Michael’s the one on your side of the street. You don’t really register him at first, but when you do, you can feel the heat blooming from the center of your chest outwards— he’s tall, quiet, chest filled out broad underneath a blue tank top that clung to his skin. His face is pale, he hadn’t shaved in a few days, the tips of his ears red from the sun.He takes your bin with a grunt and a half-smile.

You thank him quietly, your eyes hitting the sidewalk in front of you. And then you’re jogging back inside, tugging the robe closed a little more as you go.

He sees more than he truly means to after that. Your window is on the second floor. You’ve got curtains that are too sheer to leave anything to the imagination, and they’re not quite closed. He’s not looking, not really. He’s not anticipating seeing what he does— but his eyes flick up at the movement caught in his peripheral. It’s out of habit more than anything. But he’s just in time to catch a glimpse of you stepping into a pair of jeans, red panties on full display. You’ve got a shirt tossed over your shoulder, bare back to the glass. It’s a quick flash. A second. Then you vanish from his sight. Michael just blinks, his breath caught in his throat.

And then the lorry is moving along and he’s hauling bins again. One by one. And the sight of the expanse of your back shouldn’t stick with him. But it does.

Not in a dirty way. It’s just… you were laughing. Before you turned your back to the window. You had to be talking on the phone, maybe. You were loose and unguarded in your own space, like you didn’t know anyone could see. Especially see you changing. Like you were living in your own little world, and he’d stepped into it for just a second and it drives him crazy.

He thinks about it all week. And next Tuesday, he’s early. He doesn’t really mean to be. The route just moves faster than usual. But when he gets to your street, his eyes find your house without even thinking. He’d been waiting for this for seven days. Your bin’s are already out. Lids secured. The same neat handwriting on the sticker you’ve put across the top— your name, underlined. There’s a little heart next to it as well. He moves and lifts it like it’s nothing. The lorry is beeping behind him.

And then he catches it, your curtain twitches. Just a sliver of movement. It’s barely there. Not another soul had noticed it. But he does. You’re moving inside, pulling your hair up, twisting it into a claw clip. Wearing some oversized T-shirt that swallows your shape. You must be staying in today. Michael swallows hard and forces himself to look away. The lorry moves on.

He tells himself it’s nothing. It’s just a harmless little crush. You’re just another stop on the route. A house like any other. But then he starts noticing the little things you’ve been doing to make his job easier. Your bin’s always tidier than the rest of your street. It’s sorted right. Recycling in the blue one, food scraps double-bagged. There aren’t any loose bits. There’s no broken glass or half-filled bottles. Sometimes you even leave a post-it on the lid, he likes to think they’re just for him. “Sorry for the weight!” or “Forgot to rinse these— hope that’s okay!” There’s always a tiny smiley face drawn in one corner. No one else on the route does that.

Michael’s gotten used to it, people treating the bin men like ghosts. Just part of the machine. But you? Oh you. You wave if you catch them. You say thank you. Once, you brought out a cup of tea for one of the lads when his hand got cut on a jagged tin. Michael hadn’t said anything to you. Just watched from the lorry steps, quiet, heart hammering. His little crush growing larger and larger with each passing week. You’re kind. That’s the part that gets him. Kindness is rare. Especially on bin routes. So he starts… just paying attention.

He’s the one who always takes your bin now. The others don’t seem to notice, or they just don’t seem to care, and he never offers up an explanation. He just makes sure it’s clean. That the lid’s placed back exactly right and nothing gets busted. He makes sure that nothing gets spilled or splashes or tips sideways. Once, there’s a bottle cap wedged in the wheel. He crouches down, flicks it free, and then takes an extra second to double-check it’s all moving smooth again against the pavement. The bin rolls easy.

You open the door just as he’s pushing it back into place. “Oh!” you grin, even though surprise is written all over your face. “I thought I missed you!”

Michael straightens his shoulders like he’s been caught red-handed peeking in your window. 

You smile at him— it’s warm, without hesitation. You’re in your slippers and that cotton robe you’d been in the first time he had noticed you. But today you’re holding a mug that’s shaped like a strawberry and painted a bright shade of red. “Thank you,” you smile softly, the sincerity dripping from each word. “You’re always really careful. I appreciate it.”

He shrugs off the compliment, even if that heat is blooming in his own chest. “S’what we’re meant to do.”

You tilt your head, hoping you hadn’t been reading the situation wrong. You’d seen the lingering looks, you've even seen the way his eyes drifted towards your bedroom. “Doesn’t really mean everyone does it.” Michael really doesn’t know what to say to that. His ears go pink. You take him in for a moment and your smile softens. You nod towards the mug. “Want one?”

He blinks, a little laugh leaving his lips as they tug up into a smile. “A mug?”

“A tea,” you laugh in response. “I didn’t mean— I’ve got more mugs. Promise.” 

He hesitates for a moment, but he can’t say no to you. Your pretty eyes are boring a hole straight through his soul. Then he whispers, wiping his gloved hands on the coveralls tied around his waist, “Alright.” He tugs the gloves off, sliding them into his back pocket as he takes a few steps towards your doorway. 

You disappear for mere moments and return bringing him a cup. It’s just plain tea, with a splash of milk, no sugar. He thinks it’s perfect. He stands there for a minute, cupping the silly little novelty mug in both hands. It’s shaped like a busted up old boot. You lean against the frame, watching him as he takes his first sip. “Have we met before?” Your voice is quiet, but curious. And it still makes Michael go stiff. You squint at him, sizing up the way he moves. “I feel like I’ve seen you around.”

He shrugs, trying to play it off. “Been on this route a while.”

“Right,” you murmur, one of your fingers tucking back a stray strand of your hair. “Well. It’d be good to finally put a name to the tea order.”

Michael glances up, fingers still curled around that stupid mug— a smile on his face, “Michael.”

Your grin spreads wider. “It’s really nice to meet you, Michael.” He doesn’t say it back, but that’s alright. He just ducks his head and takes another sip. But you can see he’s smiling too.

tags ;; @prettycalla @getaapologist

[q-gorgeous]

Why Am I Summoning An Egyptian God

ao3

ffn

word count: 1173

prompt: Danny accidentally staples some extra pages onto his homework.

this idea was courtesy of my sister

Danny yawned and laid his head down on his desk in front of him. He’d been up late fighting a ghost the night before and didn’t get much sleep. And he’d rather take a nap than listen to Lancer talk about Romeo and Juliet.

He was almost asleep and he didn’t hear Lancer’s footsteps approaching. He jumped when he heard Lancer’s voice start talking to him. 

“Mr. Fenton, while I do appreciate that you turned in your assignment this time, I would rather you make sure all you turn in is the assignment.” Lancer quirked a brow at one of the pages of Danny’s paper he turned in. 

Danny whipped his head up at him. “What?”

Mr. Lancer squinted at the page he was reading. “It’s good to see you catching up on your Egyptian history, but a spell to summon the Egyptian god Anubis?”

The class around him snickered and Danny’s face fell.

Oh no. 

“Mr. Lancer-“

He started reading the words off the page and the room dropped in temperature. 

The students looked around each other uncomfortably and some were even getting up out of their seats already. Lancer read the final word and a bolt of lightning came through the ceiling and hit him. The students in the room ducked down and screamed.

The lightning disappeared and Lancer’s eyes were glowing yellow. 

Mr. Lancer- or at least Danny thought it was Mr. Lancer- looked up at him and blinked slowly. 

“You are not of this world.” 

He summoned a scepter to his hand and pointed it at Danny. The tip lit up and Danny only had a moment to dodge before a blast was sent where he was sitting just a moment before. He hit the floor hard and turned to look up at him. The kids in his class were shouting as they tried to leave the classroom. 

“It is time to move on. You have no place in this world anymore.”

Mr. Lancer- no, Anubis- took another step towards him.

“What are you talking about?” Danny pushed himself backwards across the floor. 

“You’ve died. You don’t belong here.”

Most of his classmates had filtered out of the room by now but as Danny watched Anubis point the scepter at him again, he knew he’d have to take the risk.

He phased into the floor below him and he felt as another blast from the scepter hit the floor above him. He transformed and flew under the ground until he got a ways away and they pulled up into the air. 

Then his ghost sense was going off. He groaned. What now? Who was this? 

“I am the Box Ghost!” 

Danny laid his head in his hands and groaned again. 

“Fear me!” 

“Boxy!” Danny shouted. “I’ve got a more pressing issue right now. Can you go back to the ghost zone?”

The Box Ghost stared at him. He raised his arms into the air as he shouted again. “I am the Box Ghost, and there is no issue more pressing than me!” 

“No, seriously. I really think-” 

Danny watched as the Box Ghost’s face suddenly dropped. He was looking somewhere over Danny’s shoulder. When Danny turned to look he saw Anubis floating behind him. 

He heard the Box Ghost start to fly away and right as he turned to look back at him, Anubis was launching another blast from his scepter and it hit the Box Ghost. 

He shouted and then he was disappearing. His form turned black and he faded to sight.

Danny took a sharp breath in and he couldn’t look away from where the Box Ghost had been floating a moment before. 

“What did you do to him?!”

“He’s been sent to the Unworld.” 

Danny’s head snapped to look at Anubis. He’d heard very few things about the Unworld, but none of them were good. The ghosts talked about it as if it were some kind of limbo. It wasn’t a place that anyone could ever escape from. They talked about it as if it were hell. 

Anubis was readying another blast at Danny. He flew away before it could be launched at him. 

Danny passed a couple smaller ghosts as he flew away.  He heard a couple blasts be launched off and when he turned he saw that Anubis was shooting at them as well. 

“Why are you sending the ghosts away?” Danny shouted as he looped through the air. “I know I send them back to the ghost zone, but I don’t send them anywhere permanently.” 

“They’re not meant to travel between the world of the dead and living.” Anubis flew after him. “They were guided to the afterlife as their final resting place.” 

“But I’m not dead!” Danny dodged another blast from the scepter. Anubis slashed it through the air. 

“You are a ghost. You’ve been touched by death. You don’t belong here any longer.” 

“But I’m still a human!” Danny paused his flight and tried to reason with him. “If half of me is still living, doesn’t that warrant an exception? I can’t survive in the ghost zone.” 

Anubis seemed to ponder that. “It’s true, I’ve never met a ghost such as yourself. But I don’t believe that makes you special. You’re just an anomaly that was missed. You’re not meant for this world.” 

Anubis threw another blast at Danny and he dodged the first one but a second one was coming too fast.

It was as if the world slowed as the blast hurtled towards him. Danny closed his eyes and braced himself for the impact. And while he was hit, it seemed to only push him back through the air. It didn’t feel like he went anywhere. 

He peeked an eye open and saw he was still in Amity Park. A smile spread across his face. 

“How’s that for an anomaly?” Danny shouted down to Anubis. 

“How is that possible?” Anubis looked at his scepter. “It should have sent you to the Unworld.” 

Danny pulled his thermos off of his utility belt and flew towards Anubis. 

“I guess the Egyptian guide to the afterlife can’t guide someone who isn’t completely dead!” 

He hit the button on the thermos and the beam hit Anubis. It pulled him out of Mr. Lancer and surprisingly sucked him up and he yelled the entire way into the thermos. Danny landed on the ground and looked at it.

“Huh.” Danny tossed the thermos up in the air. “Who knew it could catch ancient gods too.” 

“What happened?” Mr. Lancer placed a hand on his head and shut his eyes. “Where am I?”

“Don’t worry, you’re okay.” Danny walked up to him. “You were overshadowed by Anubis.”

Mr. Lancer’s eyes widened. “Gulliver’s Travels! That spell was real?!” 

Danny nodded. “But it’s all taken care of! Now if you’ll excuse me.”

He jumped into the air and flew away from him. 

Now all he had to do was figure out what to do with him. He couldn’t just send him to the ghost zone. He could just come back and keep sending the ghosts to limbo. 

Danny shook the thermos. That’d be a problem for future Danny. 

[phantombegruvia]

Rewatched Sorry About My Nan yet again, I have several more thoughts, mainly about Jaime. So I'm going to ramble! Again!

I've seen a lot of people point out his absence in the final scene, and say he's dead. But I don't understand why he would be. He seemed to have fallen for Ethel's manipulation by the end of the trials, even chanting "STAG" before Jim does, so why would she want him dead? (Unless the Jaime we see at the end of the third trial wasn't the real Jaime, and was actually Tom's Cabaret character (I'm calling him Emcee again), but that's another can of worms that we can deal with later)

I want to build on @cook-a-little-chicken 's theory a little, who says that the wedding was part of the trails, but also that Jaime had become part of the show. I just want to provide a little bit of evidence before we talk about that.

First of all, when Emcee asks for Jaime's name, he messes up and says "Michael". And secondly, he thinks that Emcee is Ethel. This is obviously a mistake on Sam's behalf, but in the context of the theory, it's pretty grim; Jaime is losing himself. He's seeing Ethel in places where she isn't, he's forgetting his own name, choosing a common one in hopes that he's right.

Emcee never introduces himself, never addresses himself - he may not remember ever having a name. Wilhelm introduces himself, maybe he's not been there as long as Emcee? Or maybe he chose Wilhelm because of the Wilhelm Scream - a classic sound effect many movies and TV shows use, and have been using since the 1950s. (I can't put into words why this makes sense to me and why I believe it's relevant, it just does)

Back to Jaime, he cared when Wilhelm "died", staying with him before getting dragged into the next trial. Maybe this was the first time in a while that somebody had shown them kindness? Maybe it was Wilhelm and Emcee who wanted to keep Jaime there.

And if anything, Jaime was the one to pass the trials, not Jim. Jaime was the one who wanted to save their friendship, choosing to not attack Jim, or admitting how he really felt about Jim's wedding. Jim, on the other hand, was ready to kill Jaime, not caring about the consequences.

Maybe Ethel doesn't have as much control over that world as we thought. She still controls everything, but still the inhabitants of that world have some sort of autonomy, they can go off script if they want (Wilhelm pushing himself in front of the sword, Emcee saying that he didn't like Jim and Jamie's performance). They decide who stays with them, who stays on stage, who watches the show. The audience of 403 may have become 404 by the end of the play.

Anyway, that's all I can coherently type before my mind melts, so.. (I say as if any of this makes sense)

Also! I have a theory/headcanon about how some of the longforms link together if anybody wants to know that let me know hehe :D

[imtrashraccoon]

Thank you to @coresanthewriter for the commission! I haven't written this topic before, but I had a lot of fun doing so. I hope you like it! (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Wedding Day

Featuring: Swapfell Gold Sans "Wine" x You (Core)

Today was the day! After almost two years, you would finally be marrying the love of your life. The journey had not always been an easy or pleasant one, but now you could do the one thing you had been longing for ever since you had confessed your true feelings to your partner.

Funnily enough, your fiance was probably even more excited than you were about today. You had talked through "what if" scenarios on and off before, but when the legislation went through to legalize interspecies marriage, Wine's enthusiasm only grew more and more with each passing day. Indeed, he had all but insisted on planning out the whole ceremony, which made sense because he had always been good at that sort of thing.

It was a small affair, but that suited you two just fine. While Wine had a penchant for grandeur and large displays of power, he knew when to hold off when it counted. This was to be the first human-monster marriage since the whole race was freed from their underground prison after all, and what happened today would set the precedent for any future ceremonies to come.

Another reason you two had agreed to keep the wedding small was the fact that there just weren't that many guests to invite. Sure, Wine's brother would be there in support, but he did not have very many friends he wanted to be there. Despite this, the Monster Queen would be in attendance, as would the human ambassador who had freed their entire race. Although you had tried to tell yourself otherwise, this ceremony was a political one, especially since Wine still held a high rank in the Royal Guard. However, there would be a few other monsters attending as well, such as the Royal Scientist, the former Monster King, and a few plus ones, but you didn't mind since you were friends with most of them already.

As for you, it was a bit of a similar story. A few of your good friends were coming, in fact they had been overjoyed to be invited, but your family had declined when they learned who you would be marrying. It was not a huge surprise, since your parents had pitched a fit when they found out you were dating a monster a year ago, but you would have been lying if you said it didn't still hurt. The one good thing was that you were joining a new family, one who loved and accepted you for who you were, not for what you could do or whether you made them look good.

When the time for the ceremony began, it felt as though your heart had leapt into your throat. You promised yourself you wouldn't cry, but a small voice in the back of your head knew better. If you could just make through your vows, you would count it as a win, although in reality you were already winning. No matter what happened in the next few minutes, you would end the day married to the one you loved more than anyone else.

Wine was already waiting at the altar when you stepped into the auditorium. You remembered thinking that he had always looked good, but seeing him like this - dressed up in his full ceremonial guard uniform - you felt like you could admire him forever. His hands were folded behind his back and he stood tall, as if ready to take on the very world itself for you. The gold accents of his uniform gleamed under the lights and really brought out the scarlet pinpricks that rested in his sockets. Despite his rigid posture, there was a warmth to his presence that could be felt throughout the whole room, as if he was just barely suppressing the sheer joy in his soul to be here today.

Your outfit wasn't a traditional wedding suit or gown, but something more fitting for this unprecedented event. You wore a dress shirt with lace detailing, smart-looking slacks, and a loose cloak with a gold clasp. Your normally shoulder length hair had been plaited and tied back into a sort of wreath encircling your head. Your makeup wasn't anything too over the top, but it brought out your ebony eyes and made your warm sepia skin glow beneath the lights. You felt good, like you could let loose and have a little fun, but still seem sophisticated and elegant at the same time.

Wine's permanent smile only seemed to widen the moment his eyelights landed on you. He couldn't seem to tear his gaze away either as you made your way down the aisle to stand by his side. Truly, if he was the happiest monster in the world today, then you were the happiest human as well.

"Well Now," he purred in a voice that was meant for you and you alone as the pianist wrapped up the refrain. "I Was Beginning To Wonder If You Might Stand Me Up, But I Have Never Been More Glad To Be Wrong, My Paramore."

~ ~ (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)💜

Do you want a little drabble of your own? Check out my pinned post for my rates. I will be happy to write something for you!

[tinkerbellini21]

A Stranger's Jacket: Part 21

Evan "Buck" Buckley x plus size! reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: angst, spoilers, fluff

Author's Notes: Very short update, I am still slammed with final papers! Had to put something up though!

Masterlist | Taglist

You wake up to your alarm, blindly reaching out to shut it off. Buck’s face, buried in your pillow, lifts, flashing you his sleepy blue eyes. But his head must be too heavy as he drops his face back into the cushion. 

Blinking slowly, you adjust to your surroundings. You had the day off and forgot to silence your alarm- although you were going to be woken up by Buck’s alarm in half an hour anyway.

A warm gold peeks through the curtains, casting a glow across the bottom of the bed. 

You scoot closer to Buck’s side, absorbing the heat of his body. You want nothing more than to stay like this all day. 

Resting your head ontop of his, you tug the comforter up to your necks, cocooning yourselves in. Away from the responsibilities of the real world, away from the cool air of the morning.

Buck’s grasp is firm, his arm heavy across your midsection. You rub his shoulders as he slowly comes to a more lucid state. 

Buck groans, squeezing the pillow with the hand that’s buried underneath it before gazing at you, moving from his stomach to his side. Delicately, he pushes a few stray hairs back from your forehead.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” You murmur softly. He cups your neck, thumb lazily stroking your cheek. 

“For loving me— even when I’m drunk.”

“Oh Buck.” You slide your hand down his arm, locking your fingers together. You squeeze tightly, reassuringly. “You’re allowed to let loose every once in a while.”

“But it wasn’t healthy. Not with my medication and my feelings.”

You let him guide the conversation. There was no need to confront him about the situation. You knew your fiance. He would tell you in his own time, which typically meant sooner than later. 

“It’s okay, Buck.” You give him a chaste kiss. “We’re going to have a good day today. I’ll have your favorite dinner and dessert ready when you get off work tonight, and we can watch that movie you’ve been dying to see.”

A pause. Your forehead crinkles as you observe Buck. He’s tense, a myriad of emotions painted on his face. Anxiety, hesitation, radiates off of him in waves. 

“I’m not going to work.” He doesn’t hold your gaze, looking down as he anxiously moves his fingers against yours. “I’m going to see a lawyer.”

“Oh.” 

To say you’re shocked would be an understatement. Or maybe it isn’t the right word. Confused? 

“I uh, when we did the inspection, there was this lawyer who wanted to speak about fire codes. Then he mentioned my leg and how I could sue the city—” He bites the inner part of his lip, like he feels guilty for thinking about it. “I was against it at first. But after last night’s dinner… I think I need to stand up for myself, babe.”

“You’re thinking about suing the city?”

“I just want my job back. Not money.” Buck confesses quietly. He clears his throat, once, twice, and you swipe the pad of your thumb under his eyes as he tears up. 

“I know. We all want you to have your job back.” 

“Do you think this is a bad idea?”

You don’t have an answer. On one hand, you want Buck to feel empowered, to advocate for himself and what he believes is right. On the other, you think about his— no your relationships with your friends, your family. Filing a lawsuit isn’t something to take lightly.

“I think you should meet with the lawyer and discuss options.” You unlock your fingers to bring them up to the back of his head, absentmindedly …scratching his scalp. “I will support you in whatever you do, regardless of my opinions. If you want to do this, I’ll be here.”

“I do.” 

“Then it’s settled.” You nuzzle his nose in an effort to lighten up the mood. You’re rewarded with a kiss, his lips upturning against yours. “Now let’s get some food, shall we? I’m starving, and avocado toast with an egg smmmounds amazing.”

“Anything for my princess.”

After breakfast, you strolled through the neighborhood, the sound sof birds accompanying you. It was the perfect autumn morning for California, 68 degree weather with a slight breeze. Not too hot. Comfortable.

You part ways with Buck mid-morning. He told you he needed to do this by himself. Even while he was doing this for himself, he was still worried about you. He didn’t want to drag you directly into this. 

You’re mashing bananas for the bread you’re making when there’s a knock on the door. You wipe remnants of squashed fruit on a tea towel, briskly walking over to answer. 

Peering in the peephole, Maddie stands on the other side with two cups of coffee. 

You know Maddie. She’s here to apologize for last night. But tension, uncertainty, still rests in your bones. 

You unlock the door, slowly opening it. 

“Good morning. I’m sorry about last night. I was in a bit of a funk.” She steps past you, inviting herself in. Relief washes over you. It wasn’t personal. 

“How are you doing?”

You exhale loudly, rubbing your forehead before sliding it down your face. You follow her into the kitchen, moving back to your bowl as she sits across the island.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I felt bad as soon as I got off the phone last night.”

“It’s okay, I get it.” 

You start to slice another banana up, focusing on the motion of the knife. You’re not sure you could handle a serious conversation right now. 

“Seriously though, how are you? And I won’t take “I’ll be fine” for an answer.”

But once you hear the concern in Maddie’s voice, the care that you’ve grown to love, you break down. Lip quivering, you tilt you gaze up. The knife drops against the cutting board, your once occupied hand clutching at your chest. Your shirt, now smudged with banana. You can’t breathe.

“Woah, hey. What’s wrong?” Maddie launches up from her spot, rounding the counter to comfort you. “You’re scaring me.”

You try to speak, but your words are stuck in your throat. You try again and fail. Maddie waits, hands steady at your back.

“A-Athena called Buck last night. He—” Your eyes close, tilting your head back. 

“He what?”

You envision the scene. Buck is sitting at the table with the couple, learning over dinner that Bobby was the reason he wasn’t cleared for duty yet. You feel the hurt, the sense of betrayal. And you vividly see the look on his face. 

But the worst part? All of this could have been avoided if Bobby had just been honest with him. 

“Bobby’s the reason Buck’s not back. It broke his heart, Maddie. And mine.”

Her hand on your back freezes, becoming a bit heavier. You glance up at her. Her eyes flutter, just like her brother’s, as she processes the information.

“Oh Sunshine. I’m so sorry. I know you—you trust Bobby’s judgement. But when we see someone we love hurting, it’s hard to stay objective.”

“Ye-yeah.” Your throat is closing and opening rapidly. “I-I’m so-sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“Ugh, no.” You find the strength to laugh at yourself, realizing that you may be overreacting just a little. “This is pathetic, Maddie. I’m pa—”

“No, it’s okay to feel this way. This is hard on you, too.” She pauses, giving you some breathing time. “But there’s something else, isn’t there?”

Fuck. 

“What? Are you pregnant?!”

You sputter, laughing loudly as you lean forward to grab the counter. 

“No, no!”

“Then what is it?” Maddie pushes gently, her hand rubbing up and down your arm. 

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.” 

You force yourself to take deep breaths. In for three, hold, push out. After a few cycles of breathing, you trust that your voice won’t shake. 

“Buck is meeting with a lawyer right now— to get his job back.”

“He’s going to sue them?”

“He just wants the job, not money. But I don’t want this to ruin our family.”

Maddie purses her lips, a soft woosh escaping. Her face says it all. 

This is a bad idea. You both know it.

 But this is what Buck wants. 

And you must stay on the sidelines, ready to catch him when he falls. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

🔥 taglist: @nickie-amore, @mimisweetz, @queen-o-castle, @dipdeedoda, @rintheemolion, @iluvvcaats, @maryyy-8 , @strabarrybat, @unholycheesesnack, @formula1-motogpfan, @booklover2503, @strawb3rrywh0r3, @itsthebookqueenthings, @mmkkzz, @teenwolfbitches28, @mynameis-alexa, @sophham, @bellsbomb, @lafrone, @diasnohibng, @dream-alittlebiggerdarling, @amarecerasus, @jgoodwin-242, @bimbologymajor, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @bunnyweasley23, @rheathesimp

[slimesludge-space]

All because of some stupid pants?- Part 6

Note: Divine Intervention! °~° nobody is ready

°~~°~~~~~~~°~~°~~~~~°~~°~~~~°~~°

Simon didn't believe in wishing for anything. Nothing came from just stupid dreams that you can't follow through. In his line of work, prayers and idealization can only get you so far. Although a certain Scotsman was definitely making him believe in dumb luck and chance. Because at this very moment, that's exactly what it felt like. Maybe even a higher being laughing at his pathetic attempts at moving on. Simon just wanted a cup of coffee from a nearby shop, that's all this was supposed to be. But dumb luck and chance just wasn't on his side, or maybe it was? But it sure didn't feel like that for him.

He stood there awkwardly as he finished getting his cup of coffee, ready to turn and leave and meet up with Price to let him know about his fuck up. Only to nearly drop his mug when he finds you sitting outside at one of the tables with your nose in a book that he hadn't seen before, must be new considering he's kept note of all the titles on your bookshelves from his time there. Simon swallowed whatever nerves he had left, realizing he's been too much of a coward to just walk away once more. All he could think of was fuck it, if you were gonna yell at him again then he atleast wanted to say sorry in person before you left out of his life completely. It didn't feel right to keep your stuff, he knew some of the mugs he had were your favorites and how excited you'd been when your favorite author signed your book. He'll make sure to pack everything safely and place them at your door tonight, it's only fair and it wasn't his to keep. Even if he wanted a keepsake to remember you by, none of it was his in the end. Wiping away the sweat from his hands as he nervously walked over and set his cup down on the table and sitting across from you. Simon shifted in his seat as he placed his hand under the table to hide the slight tremble as he laced his hands together.

Oh you were NOT well. This was your first day out in the real world besides work. God is not on your side as you saw a random shadow come up and sit in front of you. Was this a sick joke? Did your friends do this? Were you ready to see him again? NOPE! But here you are in the middle of an internal panic gymnastic as your ex made himself comfortable while you were still processing the fact that out of all the coffee shops nearby, it just had to be THIS one. There goes your entire day. You had enough food at the house to cry over and finding another coffee shop until he either gets deployed or you put in a transfer. Running was a good option right about now for you. Maybe giving him a half ass story of a gold fish needing therapy would be a great way out of this situation.

"I'know you hate me but....can we talk?" Simon doesn't flinch easily but he couldn't hide the slight twitch as you snapped your book shut, crossed your arms and looked to the side instead of him. His heart leapt to his throat as seconds felt like hours, holding his breath for you to just yank your stuff up and leave. But you didn't, sure you weren't looking at him but you also weren't yelling at him either. If this was all he's getting then fuck it, he'll take it. Hesitantly placing his hands on the table before finally speaking up in a low voice

"I was stupid-" he began and was immediately corrected as you blurted out quick and simple

"A jackass" - your mouth worked faster than you can filter, heart sinking that Simon is just gonna up and leave. Watching yet another good relationship crumble because you could never do anything right at this point

Simon felt a bit relieved, having to hold back a chuckle before just nodding slightly. You always bit back and he didn't realize how much he missed it until now.

"Yeah. I was a jackass....the things I said back there, I didn't mean any of it. You were right, I should've talked to you about it. And..." Simon wasn't one for apologies and he definitely wasn't one for explaining anything even if was in the wrong. He wasn't sure if he was saying anything right at this point. Scratching at his stubble as he felt his frustration building up "I just..." The words dying on his tongue as he finally looked up at you. His skin crawling as he felt like he was under a microscope.

You looked at him, really looked at him for once. You weren't sure what your facial expression read but you could tell one thing for certain. He hadn't slept. Simon had a way of carrying himself, he was broody and had a way of letting everyone know to just fuck off with his presence alone. You didn't see that Simon, the one sitting in front of you right now was different. Simon doesn't squirm, he can stand still for hours and not break a sweat. The man sitting in front of you was tired in a way that you hadn't seen before. Was it anxiousness? No, that didn't feel right. Whatever it was, it didn't matter as you parted your lips and asked the one question that's been making you bite your bottom lip raw.

"Did you sleep with her?" Your heart clenched tight as your voice cracked. Whispering so softly as if speaking it out loud would only make it more true than the photo you've been dissecting for the past two weeks.

"No. No I didn't, that..I..I didn't know she took that picture or even sent it. I...*sigh* I only went out for a drink, she told me her name and I wasn't interested. All I thought about was you. On my fuckin life, i mean it"

You glanced down at his hands. Fist clenched but you can still see the slight tremor in them as his voice wavered. The way his eyes flickered over your features in a desperate attempt to find any hint of what you were thinking. To Simon, you looked so done with the conversation before it even began, that showed him more than enough that it was too late for a second chance. So it didn't surprise him when he watched you slowly get up. All he could do was watch as your hand settled on top of your book and picked it up. Needing to clench his hands together to keep himself from reaching out to you.

His mouth felt like cotton, his entire body felt hot and the clothes he was wearing were suffocating. A million thoughts of how to apologize vanished. He fucked up. And now the last time he'd hear your voice and it's laced with fear and pain that hurt just as much as hearing you cries behind that door. He'd have to call his captain to keep himself from drinking into a coma. The world under him crumbling as he fell back into his thoughts and everything around him narrowed to a point. You were a certain type of home he never had in his life. Soft and cozy but always able to put him in his place when he got rude with others. The nights he'd wake up from a nightmare and wanted space while you sat a distance away from him, not expecting anything until he layed his head on your lap and you'd run your fingers through his hair without a word. A solace. A heaven after hell, gone.

°~~°~~~~~~~°~~°~~~~~°~~°~~~~°~~°

×~×

[nvxzaa]

── .✦ Wow

Masterlist

Pairing : Han Jisung x reader

Word : 958

Genre : fluff

Warning : none

After a long day at work, the members of Stray Kids decided to get away from the city centre and meet up in a small, discreet restaurant, out of sight. There's nothing like a good dinner together to unwind, laugh and share a simple moment away from the hustle and bustle.

They sat down in a quiet corner of the room, pushing two tables together so that they could all eat side by side. The smell of barbecue was already wafting through the air, and voices were raised in laughter and bickering.

Chan had offered to order for everyone, while the others debated... on the best way to decide who was going to pay. The consensus was quickly reached: a good old-fashioned rock, paper and scissors, in three rounds.

- If you lose, you take the blame," said Hyunjin, arms folded, looking like an incorruptible judge.

- And you make the bet," added Lee Know with an already sadistic smile.

Han, confident - or too tired to think - had accepted.

He should have known better: with Hyunjin, you never win. Not without losing a bit of your dignity.

The third round proved fatal. Hyunjin pulled out his scissors with undisguised satisfaction, while Han, his hand still in the shape of a leaf, looked at him as if his world had just collapsed.

- It's a scam. This band is a scam," he muttered, dropping back against the back of his chair.

- You lose, wow boy," said Chan with a big mocking smile, while Changbin clapped his hands like a child at Christmas.

- Come on, pay up and make the bet. We're hungry and we want a show," added Lee Know, his tone perfectly neutral but his eyes shining with amusement.

- What's the pledge again?" asked Felix, even though he knew perfectly well.

I.N. took a deep, dramatic breath and leaned forward:

- You have to go and see the waitress, call her Noona... and ask her if she's got a boyfriend. Word for word.

Han threw up his arms in despair.

- Why am I still hanging around with you? I should have joined a trotting group...

But he got up anyway. Slowly. Like a condemned man.

- Yes? Do you need anything?

Han swallowed his saliva, then, launching into an exaggeratedly dramatic tone to give himself courage.

- Excuse me... Noona... do you have a boyfriend?

Yn stares at him. The silence is BRUTAL. Then she blinks, confused.

- What? Noona?

The Stray Kids table EXPLOSES with laughter. Hyunjin folds in half. Felix nearly falls off his chair. Lee Know raises his arms to the sky like a competition judge.

Yn looks Han up and down, eyebrow raised.

- I'm like... 22? How old are you?

Han looks as if he's going to liquefy, the words coming out of his mouth like a yawn, as he looks down at Yn, his cheeks slightly pink.

- It was a bet... I'm sorry... it's them over there, they're the guilty ones-

Yn looks at him amused but falsely offended.

- You're lucky I didn't take that as an insult.

She walks away, shaking her head, half-smiling, half-doubting. Han returns to the table, his soul in tatters. The guys applaud him as if he'd just run a marathon.

Chan grabs him by the shoulder.

- You did good, wow boy.

- I'm going to hide in the fridge. For ever.

Han replies, hiding his face in his hands.

A little later, at the end of the evening, when Han is getting ready to pay the full bill, he finds himself standing in front of her again, embarrassed.

Han hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck.

- Um... that was... a bit awkward earlier. Sorry about the noona, really. It's become a meme in our group.

Yn, with a smirk on his face, still looking slightly mocking.

- I get it. I'm not that fragile. But you're lucky I'm in a good mood.

Han relieved, then straightened up a bit with a false air of coolness.

- I survived your judgment... I deserve a medal. Or a cookie. Or maybe... your number?

- Yn looks up at him, surprised. He looks half serious, half playful, his hands in his pockets.

After a short silence, with her arms folded, Yn looks at him with a small, playful smile.

- Are you always like this with waitresses? Or is it just because you lost at rock, paper and scissors?

Han, smile nervously, losing all confidence.

- Honestly... I lost, yeah. But... it's more fun to lose when you win something back, isn't it?

Yn stares at him for another second. Then she sighs, grabs a little notebook from behind the counter, writes something down quickly and hands it to him.

- It's not because you're funny. It's because you had the guts to come back and talk to me after calling me 'noona'.

Han, wide-eyed, grabs the paper like a treasure, almost hesitantly.

- I... wow. I made that sound but... wow.

Yn laughs softly.

- Yeah, yeah. Get inside before your mates come and grab you by the scruff of the neck.

At the same moment, the door opens and Hyunjin shouts from the doorway

- JISUNG! Hurry up or I'll leave you here with the dishes!

Han turns back to his friend after giving Yn one last look, shouting euphonically.

- I'm coming, I'm coming! I'VE GOT HIS NUMBER!

The others shout in chorus, shocked and laughing their heads off.

- He shot a potential date? This guy is a monster.

Felix, with his hand over his heart, cheerfully joins in.

- This could be the biggest comeback of the year.

Han walks out of the restaurant, paper neatly tucked away in his pocket. He turns his head one last time to Yn, who gives him a knowing nod before returning to his work.

[gludgenbell]

I keep embarrassing myself on bsky so to cope let me tell you tumblr about a vauge svsss au idea I had buckle in for a semi-long one

something something, shen yuan transmigrates into the emperor's son - how did the son die? the palace staff says it was a bad qi deviation after...what happened...

anyway, sy also doesn't have parents and finds out this is somewhat related to...what happened...

So here is the lonely human emperor with no one but his palace staff to keep him company (they never let him leave - in fact, he's fairly certain they're in some massive ass cave?? hello??) Whether or not sy realizes he's in pidw is debatable and I'll let the class decide that

anyway; he's been sending scouts to the outside world and they've come back like. A handful of times

this emperor just wants to know what's out there! He's been here for 20-something years and no one will let him see even a blade of grass that isn't indoors. Let him see the sun!

He has tried to sneak out, of course, but the security here is quite top notch! unless you're, of course, Luo binghe, which leads me to the reason for the bingyuan tag

sy sends out another troop of scouts - a young woman with high cultivation who volunteered for the job, and two wife-beamed soldiers to protect her

sy's birthday rolls around and while everyone wants to celebrate with some grand thing, he really isn't feeling it - but he never is (his nursemaids-

[an amah? I'm reading an article and would like to know more if anyone has more knowledge]

- will mournfully reflect on how xiao shen loved birthday parties so much before...what happened..)

Anyway, Supreme birthday gift! His scouts return! The young woman is hanging off the arm of 1 (one) soldier and Shen Yuan goes ah, of course they fell in love 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ he's quite a handsome fellow! But where's the other guy?

The returned scout approaches and declares he has a message for junshang! He's glad to have finally found him after years of search, this hide and seek game could only last so long

...what do you mean years? Anyway you know who it is, the one and only Luo Binghe, and he reveals himself (in my head the skin unfolds/is ripped off him by himself of course, but maybe you're thinking of something else) and the palace staff and guards are in a frenzy trying to protect shen yuan who sits on his throne in confusion

something something, we incapacitate all of them (demonic qi flaring? surging? it keeps everyone pinned and in horror because they think theyre gonna witness luo binghe kill their xiao shen), and Luo Binghe strides up to the throne, ready to kill the last of the shens

(Is sj related to sy? debatable, I like to think binghe was just on a shen killing spree. You are shen? you will die.) (Whether or not he'd truly do this is debatable, but suspend your disbelief for a minute)

Then this happens:

I didn't proofread or edit it I'm just going after visuals, moving on,

Luo Binghe wants to hear Shen Yuan plead for mercy. And Shen Yuan isn't one to beg so he tries to accept his oncoming doom with as much dignity as possible for a man who's nipples are out and on display

I actually don't know what happens here, class can decide, in my draft Luo Binghe has a reasonable crash out (read: temper tantrum) and destroys the roof of the palace (causes a cave in) and Shen Yuan, who quite likes his palace staff as they're his only friends and family here (I think he knows all their names but I didn't wanna make any) finally reacts to this and tries to stop him

Caught offguard by sy grabbing his robes and pulling (younger sibling style), lbh and sy are both sent falling back, knocking the throne to the floor and shattering it (I liked to think the back was encrusted with jewels and glass)

aaaand that's all I got^^ class can decide what happens after this thank you