#it's almost 2am now lol...again......

[rafebangme]

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!pogue!reader

summary: ♪ am i making you feel sick ♫ - you and rafe get into a heated argument at a party because he starts brushing you off when you try to talk to him:( angst.

warnings: heavy drinking, strong language, strong themes, classism, drugs, yelling, insecurities, arguing, mention of cheating, toxic relationship.

a/n: omg hello my first story on my blog and its angst LOL. mb its like 2am and im listening to ethel cain soooo enjoy (?)

you were sitting quite comfortably on the end of the couch, watching your boyfriend laugh and talk loudly with his friends, scooping a little bit of coke out of a baggy sitting on the glass coffee table in front of you every so often. were you impartial to his coke addiction? no. but did you want to get in another shit fight about how worried you are and how much rafe doesn't care because he's 'fine' ? also hell no. so you sit there, looking pretty, minding your own business.

rafe shifts to the edge of the couch, leaning towards his dickhead friends as he tells them a story of how he ate shit on his motorbike the other day - funny - you instinctively reach your arm out and gently caress his bicep as he gets to the particularly 'funny' part of the story, where he explains how he was thrown a few feet but got out of the situation 'with only a few scratches.' in the split second that your hand makes contact with his arm, his eyes dart to your hand in his peripheral and he immediately yanks his arm away without missing a beat.

you pause, arm still lingering in the air from where it once was and a pang of hurt strikes in your chest. kelce and topper noticed as it happened and silently scoffed to themselves, but continue listening to your boyfriend talk. you squirm in your seat, now feeling more and more self-conscious about your position at this random kook party.

after a little while, you decide that he probably just wasn't thinking or got distracted trying to tell the story, that he didn't mean it. so once again, rafe was now leaning back into the couch man spreading (of course), you decide to casually rest your closest hand on the top of one of his thighs. the way that he usually did around guys wherever the two of you would go, all protective, though he hadn't done it once at this party all night.

your hand sits there for a few seconds this time but now you notice rafe's head turn towards you, and you look right into his eyes before he flashes you this halfway disgusted and irritated look, before he once again swats your hand off of him.

now you were upset. it was clearly on purpose. both times. so you tap your foot for a second, weighing your options. your situation was a bit shit, boyfriend is deciding to be an ass towards you in front of his judgey kook friends, and you have no way of getting home that wouldn't be like a three hour walk alone in the dark. you roll your eyes at him, though he isn't even looking at you, and get up quickly before walking off in another direction.

you don't even know where you're going, its dark, the figure eight mansion is packed full of random people and you have never been here before. somehow you find yourself in a second kitchen on another level of the house, its a lot more quiet and there are a small group of people playing pool so you decide to watch the game.

"hey, do you play?" a deep voice asks, you turn around, pretty startled having not been talked to by anyone all night.

"oh- hi, er- no i'm pretty bad at pool, i've only played it once when i was drunk" you reply awkwardly. you couldn't recognise the guy, but he was definitely a kook, must not be someone rafe knows because you thought you knew just about everyone on figure eight because of your king kook boyfriend.

the deep voice laughs a little before looking at the pool table, the current game is almost at an end, only two balls left to sink, "i could teach you? if you wanted to be on my team maybe?"

you nervously laugh and glance at the pool table before looking around instinctively for rafe, obviously you realise he's too busy being an asshole to care where you are right now, nor who you're talking to.

"honestly i think i'm a hopeless case, but thanks for the offer... er, you wouldn't happen to know anyone sober that would offer a ride home?" you hesitantly ask, realising you were way too tired to deal with anything or anyone for the rest of the night.

"uh, yeah i do actually, i haven't had a lick of anything the whole night" he admits, lips pursed together as if he's embarrassed by it.

your eyes widen a little, you weren't an idiot, you weren't the type to just get into anyone's car and drive off without telling someone where you're going... but you were desperate for a ride home and the guy in front of you had kind of a nerdy look to him. not really the kidnapping type, you concluded.

"oh, guess i'm pretty lucky i can't play pool then" you laughed a little.

he shrugged and glanced at the pool table before looking back at you, "guess so, so was that a yes to the ride home?"

you nodded politely and he said something about heading down to the front yard where he'd parked. you followed close behind him as the two of you made your way back through the mansion and the crowds of drunk kooks.

finally you were standing outside, watching as the pool table guy walked towards a range rover when suddenly you feel a harsh grip on your arm as you're forcefully turned around.

"rafe- ow what the fuck!" you exclaim, tearing your arm from his bruising grip. he threw back the rest of whatever he was drinking before scoffing at the sight in front of him, pool table guy now standing at his car with his arms folded as you stood between them.

"where the fuck do you think you're going with him? huh??" he shook his head, "think your trashy pogue ass can just cheat on me at a party that i invited you to??"

"cheat?? what rafe-" you began, but his yelling cut you off again.

he narrowed his eyes at you and back at pool table guy who was now walking closer to cut in himself, "fucking ridiculous, this is what i get for dating a fucking pogue. i can't believe you y/n."

you were fighting back tears at this point, but felt the burning hot rage rise inside you like a volcano, and you erupted.

"how fucking dare you accuse me of cheating rafe cameron! you know i would never fucking cheat on you! i left you at that table with your buddies to do coke all you pleased because you kept fucking swatting me away like i was some desperate stranger!"

his eyes widened at your outburst, you two had been in yelling matches before but the way you were giving him a tongue lashing now was something he'd never experienced before.

"this guy was nice enough to let me know i can actually get a fucking ride home because i was just stranded somewhere random in this fucking mansion! and you don't even care to fucking look for me until i catch your eye because you think im cheating rafe?? why do you care if im cheating anyway. im just a 'dirty fucking pogue.' am i making you feel sick rafe? can you just so not believe that you ever slept with a pogue!"

"y/n, i didn't mean all that- fuck! god, look what you've gone and made me say" he yelled, now directing his anger to the pool table guy.

he just shrugged, "dude you left her to wonder around, can't be surprised when another guy tries to get in her pants... pogue or not, she's hot"

you could see the gears turn in rafe's head before he finally attempts to lunge at the pool table guy, thank fully you put your entire body weight into pushing rafe back and even though you weren't really doing much, pool table guy was already driving out halfway out the mansion's gates.

rafe finally straightens up and then looks at you wordlessly, you take the opportunity to speak again, "don't ever fucking treat me like that again rafe. i'm too tired to have this conversation right now, we're going back to yours. i want to sleep."

still breathing heavily, he looks up past you before making eye contact with you again, "okay."

[corneredcopia]

Incoming spoilers!!! I just wanted to ramble a bit about that stone scene:

I think the scene besides the final speech that broke me the most was definitely when Stone called Ivo to warn him about Gerald. (Keep in mind I’m paraphrasing some parts here bc I didn’t have their entire dialogue memorized and it’s 2am so I apologize if some of this is just incoherent lol)

Desperately pleading with Ivo to think twice about Gerald was a tricky play because I think Stone knew Ivo most likely wouldn’t listen to him and stubbornly ignore his warning. And yet…he still poured his heart out to him in the most heartbreaking way.

There were no “please, I need you’s,” and there were no attempts to get Ivo on his side by boosting his ego in that moment.

Stone had crawled through the mud, out of a giant mech submerged in the water nonetheless, just to say a few choice words to Ivo, “I’m not there to protect you,” and “I almost lost you once I can’t lose you again.” (Again, I’m paraphrasing)

Both of these lines have been eating at me for the past few hours because it’s so surreal to be able to see how much Stone cares for Ivo unfiltered. We hear him use ‘I’ instead of ‘you,’ not telling off the doctor but making his own needs clear in an attempt to get Ivo to realize what he can’t on his own.

If it wasn’t obvious to Robotnik from Stone’s delighted reaction to his return in Sonic 2 and the months they’ve lived together, Stone is making it obvious now. (Where Rob will realize later on) His loyalty is a bond beyond professionalism and sycophancy to the point where Rob’s safety is more important to Stone than anything else in the world. Even dissatisfying him.

Yes, he craves affection from Ivo and clearly knows how much Gerald means to him, though I think Stone would much rather have Ivo hate— absolutely despise the agent’s existence—than to ever know the doctor was in pain again.

And leading up to the ending, when Robotnik finally snapped out of it and had a few seconds to think over the entire past decade of Stone’s service to him, is where I believe Lee’s words fit.

“I think Robotnik needs Stone more than Stone needs Robotnik.”

In his “final” moments Robotnik’s increasing need for Stone was so apparent it melted down his own selfish core, and I believe that this was the driving factor to push him to save the planet.

So if Robotnik is now gone, Stone served his purpose for the man up until the very end. Sure he’ll live out Rob’s legacy as the doctor bestowed upon him, but he would do so as a changed man. A changed, lonely, man.

Their relationship ended up saving the world, yet, the world couldn’t end up saving their relationship.

[earthtooz]

x : CHANGE YOUR MIND ! :*+ﾟ

in which: it's 2 am and itoshi sae is outside your door, hoping for a second chance.

warnings: 1.2k words, angst to fluff with hurt/comfort, happy ending, exes to lovers, not at all realistic but it's itoshi sae ok and we're delusional, ooc!sae

a/n: second second chance romance fic for sae LOL he's just too easy to write for when it comes to exes to lovers. idk why the banner is so low quality but enjoy!

you wonder where itoshi sae finds the nerve. after breaking up with you six months ago ‘for the sake of his career’, you never thought sae would have the gall to show up at your apartment, let alone at 2am, rudely disrupting your sleep.

yet, here he is. a soccer prodigy and superstar in the flesh, standing under the harsh lighting of your apartment hallway that always casts an ugly glow on everyone except sae.

“what are you doing here?” you ask, gripping the door handle a little tighter.

“i just got off the plane,” he answers, evading your question. 

“i know. i can see your suitcases.”

he doesn’t say anything more after that. before the breakup, you were able to read the untouchable itoshi sae, translating his stiff silences into words he could never say but wholeheartedly mean, breaking through his ego to then understand the messages of his heart. he only hopes that you can interpret the one he’s brought to you right now.

“can i come in?” asks the athlete, his question shy and lacking the usual demand that sits in his tone.

still, you furrow your eyebrows and stand your ground. “why on earth would i let you in?”

softness is a weapon that itoshi sae owns. he knows that with his typical hardened exterior the best way he can get through people sometimes is with pliability. even you have fallen for it.

he frowns, “because i’m tired and i want to sleep.”

“don’t you have your own five star hotel that your manager booked for you?” 

“can i just come in?”

the nerve. “itoshi, please leave.”

“i will, i will, but will you hear me out first?”

“what could you possibly have to say that you didn’t befo-”

“-i love you.”

the world stills.

the air around you becomes delicate and you’re too scared to breathe in fear of disrupting the silence, but it feels like the floor beneath you just crumbled and you’re falling through the debris. you’re falling and the only thing you can do is search for sae in the chaos. 

but you don’t hold on to him. no, not this time.

“that’s not fair, that’s not fair at all, sae, you can’t-” a sob tears your words apart, “-you can’t break my heart then come back six months later to tell me that you apparently love me, do you know how hard it was for me to just- ugh!”

in a fit of exasperation, you leave your post at the door and retreat back into your apartment. sae quietly slips through the crack you left open, closing the door with a soft click and you don’t even have the energy to chase him out. he even left his suitcases outside- not that anyone would take them at 4 in the morning. 

“you left me so abruptly and carelessly. we were together for almost a year, sae, yet you threw me aside, called me a burden and moved on with a snap of your fingers! was it easy? moving on like that?” 

instead of flinching at your yelling, sae simply stands at the entrance and accepts it, letting your words prick his skin and sink into him as if would make up for the pain you’ve been bathing in. 

“do you know what that did to me?” your voice is quiet now, turned down a few notches. 

he knows. he knows that you’ve been trying to get over it and not let the breakup impact your life too much, despite what he did. you’ve been going out with friends, treating yourself to everything you deserve, and finding a peace that he’s proud of you for. but sae also knows about the many nights you’ve spent crying and being sensitive to loving again, he hears about all of it from rin who lectured him when he first broke up with you and most likely, will lecture him again when he hears about sae’s unplanned visit.

sae was stupid and naive, but you were the first person he ever loved, and the world is colourless without your splash of influence. 

sae knows he shouldn’t be here existing in your space after everything, however, the instant he stepped off the plane, the first thing his heart wanted was to see one of the few things he loves about japan, you. 

“-so, please, just leave me alone and don’t come back,” you request.

the last thing sae is good at is following instructions, especially ones he doesn’t like.

“but, i love you,” he tries again. you fall to the couch with a defeated sigh, his persistence impaling your heart. 

“stop it.”

somehow, he’s now standing beside you. “do you still love me too?”

“sae-”

“-if you don’t love me anymore i’ll leave.”

with your head in your hands, you lie to him, “i don’t want you to stay either way.”

“another chance, i’ll make it right, i’ll fix it with my life, y/n, just please say you love me too.” 

“you’ll hurt me again.”

“i won’t,” he falls down onto the couch beside you, enveloping you with his frame. “i’ll be good and you can kill me if i’m not.”

you laugh. it’s dry and reserved, but you’re laughing and he begins rocking you side to side. “i don’t want to kill you.”

“rin will, then.”

you take your face out of your hands, looking at him properly for the first time since he arrived. “i-i don’t know, sae. you’ll leave again when you decide that you don’t want me.”

he doesn’t know how to tell you that whilst abroad, all he could think about was you. that during the mundane chores, the tedious trips to and from training, and all the times that he had won a match, he was thinking about you. 

he thought about you in the music he played whilst cleaning, he thought about taking you to a restaurant he saw whilst on the way, and his thoughts about you are loudest when he has a medal around his neck yet all he wants to know is whether or not you’re watching.

but you’re not beside him singing along whilst he was mopping his floors, you weren’t there in his car pointing out every fun detail you saw, and he didn’t even know if you wanted anything to do with soccer after what him. 

everytime, the yearning for you would grow, to the point that it lead him here when he should have gone to the hotel to wash up and sleep off the tiring trip instead.

but sitting here now and looking at your tear-stained face, he knows he’ll always prefer you- he’ll always find and choose you, so long as you let him. 

“give me another chance,” and i’ll show you that i’ll never leave again.

“fine,” you surrender after a moment of silence and sae feels like he could jump to the moon. “but we take things slow-”

“-i love you,” he repeats, grabbing your face and pushing you down on the couch, peppering an endless stream of kisses on your skin. sae’s outburst of affection and happiness is uncharacteristic but contagious. “i love you, i love you, i love you.”

between each declaration is sae kissing a new part of your face, showering your cheeks, forehead, nose- everywhere with unbridled adoration that he has been keeping locked up for too long. you’re real between his hands, you’re real in his hold, you’re real beneath him, and he doesn’t want this dream to end. his kisses feel like healing promises and you melt right into them. 

“i get it!” you giggle out, hands on his shoulders as to wrestle him off. “you don’t need to keep telling me, and promise me that we’re going to take it slow-”

a cold tear slides down your cheek, silencing your giggles. it’s not you who’s crying though, so you hug sae a little tighter.

something tells you that this second chance won’t backfire.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[keerysfreckles]

hey hey hey, yo

It's 2am and I was thinking of a simple Luke story (in whatever format you want) with an Aphrodite! reader who simply leaves him mesmerized every time, and at one point Percy simply exposes him and it all ends in a confession and reader just being completely beautiful lol lol lol (no description needed, we are all beautiful!!!)

teenage dream — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader (no specific pronouns used)

warnings: none! just a cute little luke drabble 🤗

a/n: im a sucker for aphrodite!reader x luke omg SMTH ABT IT IS JUST SO UGH-

masterlist !

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

if you said luke staring at you almost all day every day was shocking to you, you'd be lying. you didn't tell luke you noticed, but oh, you noticed.

in archery today, while you were helping a few of the newer campers how to aim, you sensed someone staring at you with nothing but heart eyes. that someone was luke.

while you were walking with one of your sisters after lunch, you made eye contact with luke as you passed his cabin. the boy blushed, and turned in embarrassment. you thought it was adorable.

and on the way to the infirmary with another camper, who hurt his arm during sword fighting lessons, you saw luke staring at you from afar. you sent him a simple wave and a smile. you were surprised he waved back, considering most of the time he would've just looked away with flushed cheeks.

those were only three of the hundreds of times the hermes boy has stared at you with adoration. you couldn't help yourself when you stared at him the same way. (what he doesn't know won't kill him).

you were on your way to dinner with your cabin. mr d. barrelled into your cabin telling you all to get to the mess hall. he mentioned something about chiron waiting on your cabin so he can get along with tonight's announcements.

just as you were about to sit down, you felt a tug on the back of your camp half-blood shirt.

"oh, what's up percy?"

you'd seen the boy around camp plenty of times. you two became close once you helped him get seaweed out of his hair one time. (don't ask, he had a long day).

"hey, so you see that guy over there?" he was quick to the point, as he turned and gestured to luke sitting at the hermes table.

you nod, "i'd say im familiar with him, why?"

"now luke doesn't really want me to tell you this, so you didn't hear it from me." you nod, making him continue. "he has the biggest crush on you, and i mean biggest. even when i was in his cabin he wouldn't shut up about you."

your eyebrows raise in amusement, "oh! is that so?" you look over towards luke, who seems too busy to be talking with his temporary siblings to see your stare.

percy nods, "i'm telling you, he's obsessed."

you giggle, and look at luke again. he's now looking at you and percy. you almost sense that he's nervous.

you thank percy for the not so newfound information, before walking towards luke's table. his eyes never leave you. "hi luke," you smile, placing your hand on his shoulder. "so uh, a little birdie may have told me you have a crush on me."

a few ooh's left the lips of luke's siblings. both of you chose to ignore it.

he shakes his head, "i don't know what you're talking about."

you lean down to his ear, so only he can hear, "meet me outside my cabin after dinner," you offer sweetly. you simply kiss his right temple before going back to your own table, leaving a very stunned and blushing luke behind.

[levisolace]

cigarettes after dark — suguru geto x reader

pairing: suguru geto x f!reader summary: smoking outside the club, an old friend who drifted away, suguru, finds you and strikes up a conversation. genre: heavy angst. light comfort. modern au. word count: 3.1k warnings: heavily depressive thoughts. mentions a lot of smoking and quitting. mature themes.

note: completely a self-indulgent fic. it’s 2am and i can’t really think of another way to feel better unless to write it out. uploading this raw on my phone before i sleep so i’ll probably edit (maybe even delete) the post and re-format it tomorrow after work. idk if anyone will read this lol but here u go.

There was nothing to sugarcoat. This was it. You’re just another failure.

The puddle on the ground, a remnant of the rain that poured a few hours ago, reflects an image of a person that is foreign. Disgusted, you stare back at her with disdain.

You put the stick in your mouth, inhaling, and taking a long drag. The smoke curls around you like a cloak, shielding you from the chaos of the night. The bass from the club thumps faintly through the alley, vibrating the air but not quite reaching you. You exhale, watching the smoke dissipate into the cold, damp air, and for a fleeting moment, you feel like it could carry away everything you’ve been holding onto. But it doesn’t.

The reflection in the puddle shifts as you move, and you hate the way it looks back at you. Eyes heavy, makeup smudged, shoulders hunched like you’re trying to fold in on yourself. A version of you that you despise.

You take another drag, the heat from the cigarette warming your fingers as the nicotine buzz settles over your nerves. A voice in your head whispers that you should go back inside, but your legs don’t move. You can’t face the stares, the shallow laughs, or the weight of their questions.

“Got a spare?”

The voice is low, almost drowned out by the city noise. You glance up to see a figure standing a few feet away, their face obscured by shadow. For a moment, you’re too tired to answer. Wordlessly, you reach into your pocket and hold out your pack. He takes one, sliding it out with ease.

The man steps closer, just enough for the dim glow of the streetlight to catch their face—a mix of sharp edges softened by something you can’t quite name. They take the lighter you’re holding out from your hand with a quiet “Thanks,” lighting his cigarette with practiced ease.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. Just two people standing in the dark, sharing silence and smoke.

“How long has it been?” It’s him who speaks first, staring out into the bright moon.

You don’t answer for a while, contemplating if you’ll answer him or just stay silent and hope that he’ll leave you alone. After almost a minute, you decide on the former.

“Dunno. Like 3 years?”

“Wrong, it’s been four.”

“Four, huh?” you murmur, the words tasting unfamiliar on your tongue, like the cigarette in your hand. You flick the ash off the end, watching it dissolve into the puddle at your feet. “Feels like longer.”

He hums, leaning against the wall beside you. The air between you is thick with unspoken history, but he doesn’t push it—at least, not yet. You risk a glance at him, expecting the same boy you once knew, but what you see makes you pause.

Suguru Geto looks good. Too good. His black hair, once always falling in messy waves across his face, is now neatly tied back. His clothes are clean, tailored even, and the sharp edges of his face, once softened by youthful recklessness, now hold a quiet confidence. He looks like someone who has his life together—like someone who doesn’t spend nights outside clubs, smoking to forget.

The contrast is almost unbearable.

His posture is relaxed, but there’s a tension in his voice when he speaks again. “Didn’t think I’d find you here. Like this.”

You glance at him from the corner of your eye. He looks the same but not quite. Time has softened some of his edges and hardened others. The lines of his face are sharper, his frame broader, but there’s something familiar in the way he stands, hands in his pockets, like he’s trying not to take up too much space.

“And what’s this?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you take a drag, trying to ignore how unnatural it still feels.

He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he watches as you exhale a slow stream of smoke, watching it curl into the damp air. “You. Out here. Smoking.”

The words sting more than you care to admit. You glance at the glowing tip of your cigarette, suddenly hating the way it feels between your fingers. “People change,” you say, but your voice lacks conviction.

“Yeah, they do.” He pauses, turning to look at you fully. “But this isn’t you.”

You snort, a humorless sound that feels foreign even to you. “You don’t know me anymore.”

“Maybe not,” he concedes, his tone quiet but steady. “But I used to. And the girl I knew wouldn’t have touched a cigarette, let alone ended up outside some club at this hour.”

You roll your eyes, the defensiveness bubbling up despite yourself. “Well, the girl you knew is gone. Life happened. People grow up.”

“Ha��”

His reaction hangs in the air, heavy and unavoidable. You don’t answer right away, staring down at the puddle again. The reflection staring back at you is a stranger, a reminder of all the ways you’ve tried to erase the person you used to be.

“You don’t get to judge me,” you say finally, your voice sharper than you intended.

“I’m not judging you,” he replies softly. “I just… I thought you’d have more faith in yourself than this.”

You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “Faith doesn’t get you very far these days.”

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The sounds of the city fill the silence: the faint bassline from the club, the hum of passing cars, the drip of water from the gutter overhead.

“I thought about calling you,” he says suddenly, his voice breaking the stillness. “A lot, actually. But I don’t know why I didn’t. I thought—.”

“Thought what?” you reply, crushing the cigarette under your heel.

He chuckles, though it’s void of humor. “That you’d be better off without me.”

The words hit harder than you expect. You glance at him again, searching his face for pity, disappointment, anything—but all you see is regret.

“Why now?” you ask the question quieter than you meant it to be.

Why approach me now? is what you wanted to ask. You couldn’t get yourself to ask him directly but as if he knows you like the back of his hand, he answers the question.

“Because I saw you,” he says simply. “And I didn’t want to walk away this time.”

The honesty in his voice disarms you, cutting through the walls you’ve spent so long building. You look away, crossing your arms as if to shield yourself from the weight of his gaze.

“Maybe you should have,” you murmur, but your voice wavers, betraying the truth. And from the way he stays, you think he knows it, too.

He stayed silent as if he’s debating what to say. He looks like he wants to comfort you—or terribly ask what happened to you. Either way, you know that he can’t do it. He can’t get himself to open your wounds up so suddenly when it looks like it’s eating you alive.

For a while, neither of you says anything. The muffled bassline from the club fills the silence, blending with the distant hum of traffic. You sneak another glance at him, and that’s when you notice it—the cigarette in his hand, he hasn’t smoked it once.

The cigarette dangles between his fingers, the faint glow of the ember a stark contrast to the cold night air. He doesn’t bring it to his lips, doesn’t inhale. He just… holds it.

“You’re not smoking,” you say, your voice cutting through the quiet.

He glances at you, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s amused. “Nope.”

“Then why the hell did you ask for one?”

He shrugs, twirling the cigarette between his fingers. “Felt like the easiest way to approach you.”

You glare at him, annoyed at his nonchalance. “You’re wasting it.”

“Not really.” He flicks the ash with a practiced motion, his gaze never leaving yours. “I quit years ago.”

The revelation catches you off guard. “Then why light it at all?”

He exhales—not smoke, just a slow breath—and leans back against the wall, looking up at the faint glow of the moon. “I guess…” He pauses, turning the lit cigarette in his hand, his voice softening. “I wanted to remember what it felt like. Holding this. Being here. With you.”

You flinch, the memory hitting like a slap. Back then, Suguru was the wild one—the one who always seemed to have a cigarette tucked in his fingers or a flask hidden in his jacket. You were the good one, the one who didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, didn’t step a toe out of line. You used to lecture him about taking care of himself, about how much potential he was wasting. And now? Now you’re the one standing in an alley with a cigarette in hand, trying to feel something other than regret.

“Guess the roles are reversed, huh?” you say with a forced chuckle, gesturing at him with the glowing tip of your cigarette. “Look at you. Clean, polished.”

You glance down at your cigarette, suddenly hating the way it tastes, the way it feels in your hand.

“Why’d you quit?” you ask, the question slipping out before you can stop it.

He smiles faintly, looking down at the cigarette in his hand. “Mm… I didn’t want it controlling me anymore. Felt like every bad decision I made started with one of these.” He twirls the cigarette between his fingers, a ghost of the habit he once had.

“Good for you,” you mutter, rolling your eyes a little. You can’t help it. You were jealous.

“What about you?” he asks this time, turning to look at you. “When did you start?”

The question makes your stomach twist, but you shrug it off, exhaling a stream of smoke. “A while ago. Doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” he says, his tone calm but insistent. “You used to give me so much crap for this.” He gestures vaguely with the cigarette, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “What changed?”

You hesitate, the words caught in your throat. What changed? Life? Disappointment? Somewhere along the line, the lines you swore you’d never cross blurred until you didn’t recognize them—or yourself. If Suguru’s bad decision started with the stick in your hand, yours ended with it. Every bad decision you made piled up and up until all you could do was punish yourself in many ways possible. That included this… stupid addiction.

Failure—that’s what you are. And failures… they’re just that.

“Life. Me. You know how it is. One wrong decision after another and next thing you know, you’re exactly the disappointment you fear you’d be.”

“Hm,” he agrees, tilting his head slightly like he doesn’t agree with you.

You roll your eyes, the defensiveness bubbling up. You know what he’s thinking. “You don’t know me anymore, Suguru.”

“No,” he admits, his voice soft but steady. “But I don’t think you’re as far gone as you think.”

His words hang in the air, heavy and unwelcome. You glare at the ground, crushing the cigarette under your heel with more force than necessary.

“Cut the bullshit,” you snap. “I don’t need your words of wisdom.”

Suguru sighs, flicking his own cigarette into the puddle. It hisses softly, the ember extinguished, and he turns to face you fully. “I’m not trying to do anything,” he says quietly. “But I know you don’t need this.”

The honesty in his voice makes something in your chest tighten, and for a moment, you want to tell him to leave. To stop looking at you like you’re someone worth saving.

But he doesn’t push. He just stands there, hands in his pockets, like he’s waiting for you to let him in.

A new cigarette burns low between your fingers, the smoke curling up into the night air like a ghost of something you can’t name. Suguru stands beside you, quiet now, the silence between you stretching long and thin. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, but he doesn’t say anything. Maybe he senses you don’t want him to.

The stillness lets your thoughts slip in, unwelcome and relentless.

You think about her—the girl you used to be. The one who would have hated to see you like this. That girl had big dreams and bigger expectations from herself and everyone around her. She thought she could take on the world, carve out a future she’d be proud of. Back then, it felt possible.

But somewhere along the line, it all unraveled.

One bad decision led to another. You chose the wrong major, convinced yourself it would work out. It didn’t. Classes you thought you could handle became impossible to pass. Graduation came late, dragging with it the weight of disappointment. Every failure piled up until it felt like they were suffocating you. It suffocated you until even doing the smallest tasks took too much of your positive energy.

There was so much anger and hatred for yourself that it was either you pull away from everyone… or you’ll have to see them disappointed in you. You chose the former everytime. And that’s why you failed at every aspect of life. Career, friends, family… love. All you feel now is an emptiness that is both heavy and light. Heavy in emotions. Light in meaningful weight.

Everything that was good about you was taken away from you. It’s like someone’s out to get you. It’s like someone’s punishing you to forever be painfully mediocre. Never good. Never bad. God, you feel like a non-playable character in your own life, watching yourself try and try over and over again but it’s like you’re destined to not be somebody. Not somebody’s best coworker. Not somebody’s best daughter. Not somebody’s best friend. Not somebody’s girlfriend. It’s like you’re cursed to not be able to hold on to something that makes you feel good.

You drag on the cigarette, the bitterness of it filling your lungs, but it doesn’t quiet the ache.

If you could go back, maybe you’d say sorry to her—the little girl who dreamed of being someone better, someone whole. She didn’t deserve this. You’d tell her you tried. You really did. But the truth is, deep down, even back then, there was a voice whispering you’d never make it.

That voice had always been there. Back then, you fought it. You told yourself it was wrong. But it had patience. It waited.

And now it’s winning.

The cigarette trembles in your fingers, the smoke curling upward in erratic spirals. You bite your lip, trying to steady your breathing, but it’s no use. The weight pressing on your chest grows heavier, like it’s trying to crush you entirely.

You exhale slowly, staring at the faint glow of the streetlight reflected in the puddle at your feet. For a moment, it feels like you’re staring at her, that little girl that Suguru knew, looking back at you with all her bright-eyed hope and wonder. You wonder what she’d say if she could see you now.

“You’re quiet,” Suguru says, his voice breaking through your thoughts.

You glance at him, startled, and realize how long the silence has stretched. “Yeah,” you mutter, flicking ash off the cigarette. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Nothing important.”

He doesn’t believe you—you can see it in the way his brows knit together, the way he studies you like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle. But he doesn’t press.

“You know,” he says softly, “quitting wasn’t easy for me.”

You raise a brow, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, taking what was left of the cigarette in your hand. “There were a lot of nights I thought about lighting one up. Not because I wanted to, but because it felt like I needed to. Like it was the only thing that made the rest of the world shut up for a bit.”

His words hit closer to home than you’d like. You look away, staring down at your own cigarette, now burned to the filter in his hand. “And what changed?”

Suguru shrugs, his gaze steady. “I realized it wasn’t fixing anything. It was just… giving me an excuse not to.”

You don’t say anything, but his words settle uncomfortably in your chest. He crushes the cigarette under his heel.

“You can still fight it,” he says after a moment, his tone soft but unwavering. “Whatever it is. You don’t have to let it win.”

You scoff, but it lacks conviction. “It’s not that easy.”

“I never said it was.” He shrugs, tucking his hands inside his pockets.

You don’t respond, the weight of his words mingling with the lingering taste of smoke in your mouth. Somewhere in the back of your mind, that voice still whispers, still taunts. But for the first time in a long while, it doesn’t feel quite so loud. Maybe it’s his presence, steady and familiar, or maybe it’s just the faintest flicker of hope. Either way, you don’t feel entirely alone. Not tonight.

You feel it before you even realize it’s happening—a tear slipping down your cheek, warm and unwelcome. You quickly turn your face away from Suguru, staring hard at the ground.

He doesn’t say anything, but you feel his gaze, calm and steady, like he’s waiting for you to say something first.

Another tear falls, then another, and before you know it, your shoulders are trembling as the quiet sobs escape you. You clench your jaw, swallowing hard, trying to hold it in, but it’s like a dam has broken.

Suguru shifts slightly, the faint sound of his shoes scuffing against the wet pavement. “Hey…” he says softly, his voice low and tentative.

You don’t respond. You can’t. If you open your mouth, you’re afraid you’ll break completely.

“I’m sorry,” he says after a moment. The sincerity in his voice makes your chest ache even more. “If I said something to—”

“No,” you manage to choke out, cutting him off. Your voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Just… no.”

He doesn’t press further. He just stays there, silent and steady, his presence grounding in a way you didn’t expect.

Your tears fall freely now, mixing with the remnants of rain on the ground. You haven’t cried in front of anybody in so long. And yet, here you are, crying to some guy who was practically a stranger to you for four years.

“I ruined everything,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

Suguru shifts again, and this time, you feel his hand hover near your shoulder before settling there gently. His touch is warm, reassuring. Without a word, you lean in, wrapping your arms around him. He hugs you back with one arm, his hand on your head as he pulls you into his chest. You haven’t been held in so long. You’ve slept so many sleepless nights alone, wondering if the warmth of another person would make you feel better. It never did, not like Suguru’s.

The weight of his words settles in your chest, heavy but not unbearable. You don’t know exactly how this night came to be, but for the first time in a long while, the thought of waking up another day doesn’t feel entirely impossible.

Suguru stays quiet after that, his hand still caressing your hair, offering silent reassurance. He doesn’t try to push you further or tell you everything will be okay. He just stays, letting you cry, letting you feel.

And for now, that’s enough.

© levisolace. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only on my ao3 account. reblogs, asks, and comments are also greatly appreciated. thank you.

[sleepyc63]

post-midnight motivation hits different man,,, anyway anthro hunter!! the negative space in this one hurts my soul but idk what to fill it with so wtv

story + content warnings under cut!

CW ‼️ for child neglect and implied substance abuse ‼️

please don't read if these topics will trigger you!! nothing graphic is mentioned but better safe than sorry.

~~~

Hunter was born into No Significant Harassment's family, and is the younger sister to Nightwatcher. She and Watcher were the result of a young and unstable relationship, and their mother is not a part of their lives. Hunter never knew her mother, and NSH, being young and not ready to raise pups, was never around to care for her.

Hunter was left with Watcher to babysit throughout her childhood, though even Watcher stopped bothering to care for her when he got a girlfriend. This lead to Hunter turning to unhealthy coping mechanisms, which included the eventual cause of her rot.

Hunter eventually grew tired of the neglect and ran away from home, and started working in retail to support herself. While there, she met Gourmand, and the two became friends quickly. Gourmand told Hunter about her dreams of opening her own bakery, and Hunter showed interest in her ideas. With Hunter's support, Gourmand started her business, and hired Hunter to work with her.

One of Hunter's childhood friends, Survivor, contacted her about how she was attending college in the area next school year, and Hunter agreed to meet over dinner to catch up. The pair hit it off immediately, and Hunter worked up the courage to ask Survivor on a date, and Survivor accepted (let's go lesbians!!!). When the school year started, Survivor and her brother Monk moved in with Hunter, and the trio has been inseparable since.

Nightwatcher has attempted to get in contact with Hunter again, and try to set their relationship right, but Hunter is reluctant to forgive him.

~~~

aeugh here she is!! my beautiful daughter!! she has 4,403 diseases and is banned from most public spaces. i definitely left some important stuff out but thats okay. its almost 2am that's my excuse. i'll read through this tomorrow but for now i will sleep. thanks for reading if you did lol

[ifimdreaming]

blurb!

I cant sleep

jack hughes x reader || fluff

summary: jack wakes you up at 2am becasue he cant sleep an wants mcdonalds lol

word count: 0.6k

-

Jack tossed and turned beside you, reaching over to the nightstand to check his phone for the fourth time in the past 10 minutes. You tried desperately to ignore him, being way too tired and annoyed to tell him off. You also knew that if Jack knew you were awake he would take every opportunity to keep you awake.

Not even two minutes later Jack is sitting up in bed and you look at him confused with squinted eyes and your head still on the pillow, not wanting to lose your sleepiness. 

He begins ripping his shirt off and loudly starts fluffing his pillow, punching and throwing it on the bed repeatedly, clearly uncomfortable with how it was before. You groan slightly in annoyance and Jack turns his head to look at you.

“Oh you're awake too?” He turns to face you and lifts the pieces of hair that are covering your face so he can see if your eyes are open.

“Well I am now. Literally how could I be asleep with all the noise you're making?” you huff and turn your body to face the other way, away from jack.

“I can't sleep...” 

You feel poking at your side after staying silent, trying your hardest to ignore the irritating boy beside you.

“...Hello? Did you fall asleep again?” Jack says as he continues poking your back.

You grab his hand to stop him and kick his leg under the covers. 

“OW!”

You reach over and grab your phone, checking the time. “Jack, go back to bed its almost 2:30 in the morning!” he looks at you with furrowed brows and grips his leg, dramatically emphasizing the pain, which makes you crack a smile and laugh.

“Go. to. bed.” you sit up in bed and hold his face in your hands trying not to laugh, “im serious.” you add, trying to get your point across but he just chuckles in response, clearly seeing you fighting back your own laughter.

“I can't. I'm hungry and I really need mcdonalds.” he says as you reach over to turn the lamp on, reluctantly giving up on getting much sleep tonight. 

He looks at you and pouts his lip, and you just roll your eyes in return. You knew you'd be giving in but it was funny to watch him get so worked up about it.

“Pleeaase come with me?” jack says and pulls you in closer beside him. You sit up more and he lifts your leg over him so you are now sitting up on his lap, facing him.

“Please?” he says as he leans in to place a soft kiss against your lips. 

“Hmmm… I dont know. I think I need a little more convincing.” you say as you scooch closer to his chest and place your arms on his shoulders, wrapping your hands around his neck.

“Oh yeah?” Jack leans in and leaves gentle kisses along your jaw and down your neck. He picks a spot along your collarbone and leaves marks that will definitely last for at least a few days.

“How bout now?” he lifts his head to look at you but you push it back down to your neck. 

“Come with me?” he says leaning up again and you reluctantly open your eyes, not wanting him to have stopped.

“Mm fine I suppose” you reply, and he flashes you a big smile.

“But this continues when we get back, yeah?” 

“Of course.” He says and places one last kiss on your lips, moving his hands back and forth along your thighs.

“Well lets go then hungry boy” you laugh out as you begin to climb off his lap.

“I'll get the keys!” Jack says and basically pushes you off of him so he can get dressed and get in the car as fast as possible. Leaving you laughing hysterically and scrambling to keep up with him.

-

-

[judasgot-it]

Ello o/, may i request again (dk if i can tho, don't feel pressured if not maken), really love the post you made for the request my heart literally- aawkwkw, i have so many things to say to that post but really busy asfck like if i wnated to, i could literally write a essay or thesis statement, */ahem anyway

BSD boys, while having a fighting/argument with s/o they suddenly grip they're s/o's wrist too hard and ended up leaving a mark (they didn't mean to tho ;-;) that reminded the reader's past child abuse/not used to this type of conflict which lead to angst to comfort or just angst hehe. Idk this is just a random 2am thought(my time rn) I have classes later waking up at 4am too…

AHHHHHH omg yes I'm so sorry I haven't like set up any request rules yet which I should do lol, but I'm so shehejwj but I don't have limits on requests! I just try to get to them when I can <3 Also I'm so sorry about the late response! College is hard x[

But also, I wanna do some scenarios for this, so I'm gonna have to only pick a few that I feel I can write the best for this if that's ok cause ngl I feel the mercury retrograde rn,,,

Scenario: Accidentally triggering past abuse/trauma during an argument (Ranpo, Dazai)

Ranpo

Ranpo was a rather loud guy. That's not his fault, since he's only loud whenever he has a reason to be - he's confident because he knows he can get away with it. He's smart enough to survive some of the most dangerous killers, and is bold enough to laugh in their face about it too.

But god is it aggravating as hell whenever you want to truly talk to the man one on one. Sometimes, you just want to have a normal date with him - like a normal couple and do normal couple stuff.

Like right now, you just want to walk down this busy street and not have to listen to him boast about how stupid people were. It was embarrassing how loud he was about it, how the person who got hit with a car could have easily avoided it had they just checked both sides of the street.

A normal conversation to have after witnesses a horrible event, but you could feel the stares from across the street from the mans wife. Especially towards Ranpo, who seemed to have no social boundaries as everyone else in the area seemed to instead be occupied with the normal human behavior of freaking out after witnessing a man flying in the air and being hit by a car.

To save face, you dragged him away, with him still talking about it as if it were a normal everyday thing. In his world, it probably was - but not to you. Not to normal people, who didn't think about death everyday.

"Ranpo, you need to quiet down."

"What? I'm just saying. It was pretty avoidable you know?"

You turned around to glare at him, gripping your enclasped hands tightly. He thought nothing of it, swirling his ramune bottle rather casually. The ball clinked around with each step the both of you took together.

"I know that. But you do know that it's pretty insensitive to say that in front of him and the wife who saw her husband get hit with a car."

"Y/n."

You were forced back as Ranpo stopped on the sidewalk. It was apart of a narrow stretch of road, empty and away from the commotion, which forced you to look at him. He was staring at you with his eyes, as if trying to puzzle something.

"You don't actually care about them."

There was a pause. You blinked once. Then twice.

"What do you mean by that?"

He held your hand tighter, almost painfully so.

"You don't really care about them that much. So why are you defending them?"

His viridian eyes bore into yours, which deeply unsettled you. He meant nothing by it, especially with the iron grip he had on your hand which kept you in your spot.

"Because not everyone is a superfreak like you Ranpo!"

But it made you incredibly uncomfortable.

You felt the need to defend yourself, somehow.

"Some people have 'empathy' which I know is a foreign concept to people like you."

It was as he cocked his head to the side, like a crow trying to understand what you had just told him. It was as if what you just said had gone right through him, like the wind.

"You don't mean that."

He pulled you towards him. You tried to step back, but you only found yourself stepping around and trying to find your balance again.

You flinched when Ranpo reached to balance you, but you still felt the energy from your sudden bout of frustration pumping through your body. It was embarrassing, but your mind and body were reacting all on their own.

Ranpo kept staring at you, looking past your angry scowl and into something deeper.

"I'm not your enemy Y/n, I know you're upset but there's something more."

He left you feeling naked there.

"It's not that deep. You don't need to defend yourself against me."

You looked down, avoiding his eyes. The sidewalk underneath you was rather cracked and abandoned - there was a dandelion growing just underneath your feet, a rather resilient flower.

"I'm not defending myself, I'm just..."

Ranpo lifted your chin up so you could meet his eyes again, which were now softer, as they had quickly figured out the puzzle that he's struggled with.

You looked back at him. A part of you wanted to keep arguing - it was in your nature, to keep fighting. Unfortunately, it was something you've done for a long time, which Ranpo has figured out by now.

Another thing that made you feel a little uncomfortable.

He met you with a cheeky smile, like a little rat. He closed his eyes, his cheeks raising to meet his eyes.

"I know. You're a good person Y/n."

Dazai

"I just don't think you understand. I can't expect you to, but it's not your problem, so why are you so upset about it?"

Dazai was looking at you from the couch, watching as you were once again picking up bottles he had left from one of his drinking binges. He still smelled of last night, wearing the same clothes and smelling of the various drinks he had lost himself in.

"It clearly is my problem. I'm the one cleaning up your mess right now, so how could I not be involved? Dear god, do you ever look at yourself and want to even try to be better?"

Dazai looked at you, sitting up from his previous lounging position. He stared up, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at you - his eyebags prominent in the early morning sunlight.

"What do you mean 'try' to be better? Have you ever even known what it's like to be like this?"

You rolled your eyes, dragging the bag to the front door so you could later bring it to the dumpster of your apartments. In your eyes, he was clearly being dramatic - sitting like some sort of mafioso, needing only a cigarette to seal the deal.

"Everyone has had it hard at one point Dazai. Losing yourself to alcohol every night and weekend doesn't justify it. You have a life to live you know? It's worth living."

You heard footsteps approach behind you, and looked up to see Dazai standing a little too close for comfort. His body was warm, and you could see the sweat and stains on his bandages. His hair was usually fluffy hair was greasy, but his eyes - they were dark, simply staring down at you.

"What do you know about living?"

"What?"

He had backed you into the wall, his hands now on either side of you, blocking you from exiting the danger that had become him and whatever emotional rage he had thrown himself into.

"You act like you know so much about life but you know nothing! You don't know anything about death or life - I don't think you know anything at all really. You feel all too comfortable making these assumptions about me when you don't know who I am, do you?"

He was smiling but it didn't reach his eyes at all.

You pushed at him, trying to find space to escape from his hold. His clothes and warmth made you want to burn your skin and run at that moment, and you closed your eyes in order to avoid the worst of your fears as you knew he was staring at you with those eyes that seemed to hold nothing but contempt in that very moment.

When you couldn't break free, instead feeling him pressing himself more against you, you felt your eyes begin to tear up.

"Dazai get the fuck away me."

"Or what? What will you do, oh sweet belladonna?"

You could feel tears build up in your eyes as your pushing did nothing against him - so you resorted to what you knew would work.

You raised your knee as hard as you could, and watched as Dazai fell hard on the ground, falling like a sack of potatoes. He writhed around, clutching his pearls while you gripped your pants, trying to soothe your nerves.

"Dazai I'm..."

You looked around your apartment, looking at the mess that it had become because of him. You looked back down at him, who was still on the ground and wasn't saying anything.

"Dazai I'm going to leave for a bit. Sorry."

I'm so sorry this took so long waaaaahh I'm a slow writer I'm working on it tho ;( also I was thinking about doing Jouno but I felt that it would've been super harsh so maybe I'll do him another time

[revalition]

OCT 18 - ELECTROCHEMISTRY Go to party planet. Love and be loved by drugs.

.... (looks at calendar) yup definitely october 18th today, don't mind us. this didn't even take that long, I wish I could have done more for one of my fav boys. we were putting off a task we didn't want to do (update resume) which meant getting stuck doing nothing at all for 2 days :)))

tomorrow is full of stuff we dont want to do too so... might fall behind on skilltober a bit. it's ok. but it's almost 2am and we gotta be up at 8 so gonna stop rambling now!!! (much love from the main guy who runs this blog and echem!! we're both here!)

lotssss of stuff under the cut! of my wonderful guy!

fun facts:

- has a swear score of 9/10 (calculated by yours truly) second only to half light

- he damages volition only once and heals volition 10 times! that's also the most healing out of any of the skills

- this impolite guy never once says sorry or please. he does say thank you once (to idiot doom spiral for inviting them to party)

- calls you Harry 3 times, boy 7 times, son once, man 13 times (+ calls volition man twice lol), baby 13 times, darling once, buster once, sir once, chief once, buddy 2 times, brother twice, detective 3 times... he talks to you a lot! I'm sure I'm missing some too

- calls himself your mesolimbic reward pathway, your glands, receptors/GABA-receptors, your pleasure response/centres, your electrochemistry, your parasympathetic nervous system, your moral compass (uhm...), your brain (that's a bit presumptuous) again probably missing some

- the 30 screenshot limit is *evil* >:(

also, electrochemistry's name translates directly to electrochemistry in almost all the languages disco has been translated to (which is interesting on its own, electrochemistry is the study of the chemistry of electrons moving) except the chinese translation -- 食髓知味

I don't speak a word of chinese so forgive me if this is off but google translate directly translates it to "Eat the marrow to know the taste". Apparently it is an expression meaning that once you've had a taste of something (the marrow) you will want to have it again, and is used in a negative way.

it... describes echem's role in the game quite clearly. anyway this seemed way too cool to not share.

onto the quotes!

he's so sassy

true! true! tell him echem!

I love love love this one. echem recognizes joy. kim's joy!!

shhhhhh

volition only trying to rein in electrochem... he's all alone out here haha

so delightful, happy electrochem!!!

no 😭 why is he *like that* sometimes. rhetoric knows he's gonna suggest something stupid before echem even opens his mouth. actual idiot. this is a godly check too! he gets sooo stupid at high levels...

hitting this guy with a rolled up newspaper >:|

pleaseee volition make him stop talking. he's so bad. I know he's just doing what he knows, but he's doing it in a manipulative way

look how stupid he is <3 this is when you make the jump for your coat, while you're falling through the air...

alternate outcome!! this line is actually so sad ☹️ noooo... sweetie your precious friend is still there it's okay you'll be okay

electrochemistry making this horrible situation even worse! pleaseee dude not *THE EXPRESSION* I want to strangle him. volition fighting for his life out here

he wants to be famous <3

I didn't mean to put 3 quotes in a row of authority and echem getting along but here we are. echem just wants to buy stuff he doesn't know any better!

one millisecond before hurling the pétanque ball into the ocean... at least he had fun doing it

he praises you for pouring your alcohol on the ground to honour the people you and kim have killed in the line of duty. okay my dude...

YES shit on the kingdom of conscience! someone has to!

what is wrong with him? (affectionate)

these increasing difficulty electrochemistry checks... thanks for making everyone regret asking man. and regret ever leveling you up that high in the first place...

if you rejected the task to find a drink, echem doesn't want it!

echem turning down the opportunity to use the expression, and it's just cause he isn't interested... dying. dying here.

this is a classic and a favourite. I was like 3 minutes into the game when I got this and was like ohhh... what's with this guy. oh dear.

bad :( don't call him a *lamo* stupid skill. him referring to himself by his own name is funny, I don't think any of the others do that

idiot doom spiral cuts him off here. but electrochemistry is the only skill that talks about the basal ganglia (Ancient Reptilian Brain). After some research it looks like the mesolimbic pathway and basal ganglia are closely related, and certain structures are even shared between them. Which might explain why electrochemistry is more in tune with ancient reptilian brain than the other skills. There's actually a really similar thing with perception (smell) talking to limbic system, and the olfactory system and limbic system share pathways in the brain. fascinating. which then raises the question of if pre-martinaise harry knew these things -- knows what a mesolimbic pathway is, and an olfactory system and a basal ganglia, and then named them accordingly? or if it was something else...?

(hopefully this is right, I'm a programmer not a neuroscientist. if someone who actually knows about brains knows more please say something lol)

anyway. onto other quotes.

look at them, look at the idiots <3

he's so sarcastic. look at him, focusing on what really matters! good job buddy

he's gonna kill volition one of these days. also happened in my first playthrough lol, my very high electrochemistry meant I became very fond of volition very fast.

volition... volition beloved, trying to stop you. electrochemistry *lying*. I believe volition about the vow, shush. but also... it is sooo sad that he thinks you guys can't make it without speed :( it's clearly that thought process, that it's better to risk your own health and save as many people as you can, that got things to be as bad as they are... he's got so many issues.

anyway. I've never hit 30 screenshots so fast, yikes. I love this guy so much. I have *so* many thoughts about him... how his role in harry's life would change after being sober and clean for a while... he just wants you to be happy.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Tw: maths sucks lol , reader freaking out over finals

Yves is a magnificent mathematician. He has a doctorate degree in his excelled academic field to prove it.

He could solve complex equations with more than five variables all in his head. He knows how to square root a non-square without a calculator. Yves is a walking, living, talking machine that can process mathematical problems at the speed of light. He needs to, if he wanted to predict the future as best as he could.

He knew this would happen. You showed up at his doorstep when the skies were pitch dark and so clear that you could see the stars twinkling above. You showed up at 2AM. Yves spent an hour secretly watching you take the bus and walk endlessly to his place, through various surveillance cameras. He released a sigh of relief when you entered his property safe and sound. Yves wished that you would have called him instead, he would have driven to your dorm and helped you. It would have taken him 20 minutes to get there.

You were drenched, because it suddenly started raining when you had to come here by foot, because the wealthy didn't like bus stops installed anywhere near their neighborhood. He found you hyperventilating, panicking and hysterically crying.

He pulls you in and cupped your right eye, spreading warmth over your sockets and strangely enough, making you feel... at ease. You calmed down almost immediately, confused as to what he did. So you asked him about it.

"It's a trick. Use it when it becomes noisy up here." He tapped your head.

Before you could explain yourself, he guided you towards the bathroom. He said the world can wait, you have to take a bath and dry up. Yves prepared a set of his clothes for you to wear, choosing not to remind you that you left spares of your own at his place.

You started freaking out again, exclaiming you have no time and you should have sought help from him earlier, verbally putting yourself down.

Yves covered your right eye again mid-sentence. Your brain was silent once more. What did he do?

With no reason at the moment to panic, you became speechless. Baffled that he could easily take the pain away in seconds. He slowly pried his hand away from your face and held your cheeks with both hands. It felt nice and tender, his thumb wiped the tears and rainwater away from your eyes.

"Go freshen up." He whispered. "I'll be waiting in my office." He assured, giving you a kiss on the forehead. Yves gave you privacy, shutting the door behind him.

He picked up your soaking wet bag, frowning at your ruined notes and other pieces of paper inside it. The rainwater is making a mess of his marble floors, he pulled out a plastic tub nearby, knowing that this would happen. Yves transferred it into the tub and began removing the items inside.

Your calculator is especially damaged. It wouldn't even turn on.

Yves brought everything with him to his office.

-

You came out of the steaming shower fresh and renewed. You love it here, everything feels really nice in Yves's home. You never shiver or sweat, it's quiet but not to the point you can hear your heartbeat and it smells nice too. The lights don't hurt your eyes and it's bright enough to see everything in detail. You took a deep breath, your lungs are at an all time clear when you come here. It really feels like a home. How does he do it?

You knocked on his door twice before entering. Yves is on his desk, reading the papers you brought. The ink has been muddled together and almost illegible, but he could make the numbers and words out just fine. He adjusted his rectangular framed glasses as he looked up at you. He always looked so handsome in those. But also menacing.

You started stammering, apologizing profusely for coming in so late (early in the morning?). You apologized for rudely brushing off the tutoring help he offered time and time again for the past few months. You obviously need it now.

"The trick."

You expressed a very audible 'what'? Yves brought his hand to his eye. You mirrored him then you felt a sense of peace wash over you.

He beckoned you to come to him. So you did, he remained seated in his chair while you stood right in front of him. His knees touching your thighs. Yves wordlessly slid his hands under the oversized shirt of his that you're wearing, letting his fingertips graze over your sides. It was ticklish, but pleasant. You felt... important enough for him to check on you like this.

He retracted his hands, gently held your chin in one and grasped your arm in another. He took his time examining your face.

"Have you been eating?" He knows you haven't. You would have starved to death if he didn't take the initiative to make your meals. Even that wasn't a foolproof plan, he would see you forgetting to eat at times. But you nodded.

"Have you been sleeping?" You're averaging 2 hours of sleep a day. Even if he saw you laying still on your bed, his sleep tracker he has on you and your eyebags said otherwise. You nodded.

You're lying. But there wasn't any point telling you that now.

He slid his hand down to your other arm. Lovingly rubbing them up and down as he asked you what he could do for you. He knows exactly what you need help with. But it wasn't nice to 'assume'.

You told him you needed his help teaching you everything you learned since the beginning of the year. You couldn't get anything at all and you let it fester. You only have two more days to cram 10 months worth of content.

As you speak, tears started welling up in your eyes again, your blood pressure is spiking and you tried removing your arms from his grip. Yves suddenly yanked you into his lap, constricting you in a warm embrace. You whined and ranted while he ran his fingers through your mildly matted hair.

It felt soothing, it felt safe. It felt like home.

Yves lets you tire yourself out, his other hand rhythmically patting your back. Eventually, you cease all movements and start to snore.

He carefully lifts you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style before getting up on his feet. Yves carried you all the way upstairs to his bedroom, where he laid you on the fluffiest pillows you ever felt. He tucks you in and brushes your hair away from your face. You poor thing. Still stressed in your sleep, he wiped away a stray tear.

Yves joined you in bed, propping his head up and resting a protective arm over your blanketed form. He watches you for a while.

-

You were awoken by a nightmare. Naturally, about failing your exams.

You're in his room. But he isn't in it. Yves must be downstairs keeping things in order. Then, the memories of why you came here in the first place came rushing back. You need to get some revision done.

You rushed out of the door only to body slam into Yves. He caught you before you fall.

Before you could peep a word, he hushed you. "Follow my count, breathe in."

You took a deep, long breath, watching his fingers uncurl from his fist.

"Hold." He counted to seven.

"Exhale." You released a shaky breath. Yves did this with you a few more times until he felt the pulse on your wrist slow down.

"Good morning." He greeted you with a smile. "How is my beloved feeling today?" He asked, playfully tickling under your chin. You stifled a giggle to tell him you have no time to waste. You need to start your revision as soon as possible. You demanded that he help you now.

He abruptly dropped his affectionate demeanor, stood up straight and stared you down. Eyes cold and face steely. Yves isn't pleased with how you talked to him.

You got the hint and stammered an apology. Backtracking and rephrasing your impolite words, thanking him for taking you in earlier today.

His expression softened, Yves wrapped an arm around your waist and urged you downstairs. Yves told you that he is preparing breakfast downstairs, you wouldn't be able to focus effectively if you run on an empty stomach.

"I'll meet you in my office." He kissed the top of your head as he gestured to you to use the bathroom.

-

Yves watched you with pity, he has his arms crossed, standing tall next to you. Peering over your hunched shoulders.

Your finals are in a few days, and you're sobbing over... quadratics out of all things. He knew you were struggling with your degree, you kept telling him that you're fine but your assignment grades and the hidden cameras showed otherwise.

He picks up the empty plates from the desk and sets them aside elsewhere, giving you more space to work with.

He turned his head to you when you called for him. You needed help with a question that you thought you could solve, but it is only worth a mark and you spent an hour on it. He put on his reading glasses and took a few seconds to read it.

Without judgement, without anger and without condescension, Yves began explaining skillfully. Using analogies he knows you would understand, at a pace where you could keep up. You listen attentively and have everything retained in your memory.

Yves is an excellent teacher. He is patient and most importantly, kind. Unlike many, he remembers how it is like learning about something for the first time, he remembers how lost and confused a person can feel. He emphasizes with you and does everything he can to help. Yves doesn't feel frustrated that you couldn't get it after the fourth, fifth or even twentieth time. He just glances to the side to make sure his cameras are recording, this is valuable data.

If you can't understand through one way of teaching, he will switch to another. Through trial and error, he finds a method that consistently allows you to grasp the concepts well.

Yves would handwrite custom revision exercises for you to do. While you're occupied with a sheet, he would sit on the couch, marking the ones you already finished.

At first, there were a lot of crosses, arrows and red circles. However, as you practice more and more, they turn into check marks, "well done" and "Very good".

Yves handed you your last worksheet and he wrote a "100%, Excellent" on the top of it. He glanced at the stack of marked papers right next to him, it has gotten quite tall. You're overjoyed and relieved, finally getting the hang of your course. You knew you could always count on Yves to help you through your studies.

And to feed you. And to clean you. And to shelter you...

So you thought it would be right to repay him with a kiss. He accepted it and gave you a couple back, chuckling as he ruffled your hair. You let his silky strands brush against your cheek.

He mumbled in your neck how proud he is of you. Yves expressed his appreciation towards your resilience and hard work, stating that he couldn't have done it without your willingness to study. It was lovely having someone recognize your efforts too.

Yves told you that he needs to log on and work for today. He tells you to take a break, because you deserve it and it isn't productive to keep working when you're exhausted. You're only going to make a lot more mistakes by doing so.

You believed him, partly because you think he is the smartest person you ever met. And partly because you're sick of studying too, you would very much rather do something else.

You have him one last hug before bolting out of his office.

Yves checked the cameras to confirm that you're out of earshot before switching his phone on.

He dialed a phone number that he already knows by heart. Yves brought his phone up to his ear and politely greeted your professor on the other side of the line, he didn't mince his words and brought up a five digit figure. His tutoring isn't going to be enough.

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

🦉 🩹 if you’re still doing them!

Unexpected Surprises - Jack Delroy/Reader

Warnings: Gender neutral reader, no use of Y/N, mentions of Minne's sickness and death, Jack is a miserable drunk, sad unrequited kisses, the reader makes a deal.

Wordcount: 5486

Summary: 'Night Owl Co-host' wasn't the job you signed up for, and you really weren't prepared to be a TV personality when getting coffee for the real stars was what you were expecting, but maybe you could do this as long as your new friends kept cheering you on.

Notes: According to my docs I've written for Jack more than anyone so far, him and Abner have so much love in my inbox and I'm so happy for that 😊 I almost missed this one since I saved the starts in my drafts, so I'm super glad I looked lol. Bit different plot this time, so far it's my only fic without smut for him haha but I've wanted to explore this kind of friendship for a while, so I'm glad I was able to get the chance to, I hope you enjoy it~ 💗💗💗

When you went in for your interview at UBC Studies, you expected to get stuck with the unfortunate but decent-paying job of getting others some coffee, taking some calls, and being bossed around by some snooty TV people who thought themselves better than you. What you didn't expect was for them to take one look at you, hear your voice and match it with your outgoing personality, and instead give you a job alongside their newest sign, Jack Delroy, as his co-host. You didn't know a thing about the guy, just that he came from radio, and those people had a tendency to be just as stuck up as their television counterparts. You weren't excited, but the paycheck was miles better than what you would've gotten had you gone with the internship, so you spent the next month preparing your best showman self for the cameras with the help of your friends and family, who were all excited to see you make an absolute fool of yourself on live television.

Schadenfreude, your oldest foe.

The dress rehearsal ran fine, the seats all empty as everyone practiced their cues for the first show, got used to where they'd be sitting or standing or pointing their cameras, backstage abuzz with energy as people grabbed coffee to calm their nerves about tomorrow and sneakily poured in a little extra flavour of their own when that didn't help. The man of the hour himself, Mr. Delroy, or Jack as he wanted everyone to call him, seemed pretty okay, he'd only had a chance to give you a quick hello before he was being rushed off to go over his markers, and you were in the middle of wondering where the hell you were supposed to come in when you were ushered off to the area beside the band. You were to stay there primarily, offer your own comedic quips as you saw fit as long as they were sponsor-safe, but for the most part you just had to rehearse your own bits to go along with his teleprompted speeches.

Basically: stand there, look nice, boost him up.

So you did just that, your grin as wide as it would go as everyone practiced, you really needed this job and you were not about to serve coffee to these people after being their boss, your charm on full blast just like his as final checks were given and everyone celebrated in early excitement for tomorrow night. That was another thing, getting stuck on Night Owls meant you had to become one, no more early bedtimes so you could get in a good 10 hours; now you would be getting home at almost 2AM after everything, and still be expected to get up at 7 so you could be a model citizen and do things like shop and go to the bank and socialize. You dreaded that part more than the job itself, already feeling tired as you pulled into the lot and dragged yourself over to his studio. 

It was already busy again, other shows already filming as you traversed the back halls you were now familiar with, and you made sure you looked presentable before stepping backstage to find Jack and go over your very first routine together. You found him talking to your producer, Leo Fiske, who was already smoking what had to be his second pack of the day and running on pure nerves while Jack looked so wired he might've actually been able to run a mile or two before the show started. Neither noticed you until you approached, Jack’s eyes meeting yours a second before Leo turned and grabbed onto your shoulders.

‘The hell have you been?’ he instantly demanded, Jack muttering for him to calm down as you tore yourself free and readjusted your sleeves.

‘There's still an hour before the show, I'm not late,’ you defended yourself, Leo shaking his head and motioning towards everyone already there.

‘I dunno what kinda job you had before this, but if you're an hour early you're already an hour late,’ he explained, Jack hushing him again before Leo noticed something else and had to run off and fix it before he could continue with you. You just stared, used to his eccentric personality already, so you weren't upset or anything, but this would definitely not help your desire to go home and go to bed in the upcoming nights.

‘Don't worry about him,’ Jack said softly as he watched him go, your hand already up to wave off his concern.

‘I really don't,’ you admitted with a chuckle, and as you went for your own coffee you realized that this was the first time you'd actually been alone with him since production started; despite being co-hosts, both of your attentions had been torn elsewhere the past month, all your smalltalk and introductions surrounded by other people and large gaps as you stood in your places and worked out what activities you'd be doing as the show went on. ‘So, big night tonight, huh? I've never done anything like this before, if I mess up I'll have to quit,’ you joked, and he just drank the rest of his coffee before shaking his head and tossing the cup into the trash.

‘Nah, I've seen how quick you are on your feet, if you make any mistakes I'm sure you'll be able to spin it and make the audience laugh, and that's all that really matters,’ he told you with a smile, and you felt something flutter in your stomach at the sight of it; okay, weird, he wasn't usually your type and was technically more your boss than anything despite being around the same age, you'd have to decipher that one when you got home tonight. ‘Besides, if you can't think of anything I'll be sure to cover you, I've done my fair share of, you'll forgive the expression, fuck ups on air,’ he admitted lowly with a wink, the fluttering turning to something stronger as you just nodded back. 

‘What're you doing still standing around? You think you're gunna wear that on camera? I told you to match with Jack, there's gotta be something in here we can get you in- Jesus, tomorrow you two are going shopping together so you don't clash like this again.’ Leo was a flash flood of words as he came up behind you, your eyes wide as you had seconds to take in what he was saying before you were being herded off towards the section of backstage dedicated to makeup, hair, and costumes. Jack just chuckled as he followed after so that the poor woman would know how to match you, your carefully picked outfit respectfully torn off of you behind a curtain while Leo flipped through the available backups while ignoring the advice of the costumer. 

By the time midnight was finally about to hit, you were wearing an entirely new outfit, Jack was making sure everything was in place, and Leo was halfway through that second pack as you took a deep breath and headed out in front of everyone. The seats were all packed to your surprise, you weren't sure for the longest time if this new late night show would be able to compete with the others, but as you got into position and the band started to warm up, you felt a new confidence take over as you pictured how hard Jack had been working to get here, how much he wanted this. As such, you gave it your all as you announced your sponsors and very first guests, your best professional voice on as you mimicked other hosts you'd been watching to prepare for tonight. The music was loud behind you, upping your energy even more as Jack’s cue ramped up, and when you called out his name and everyone cheered you felt a bit of pride join the butterflies as the door opened and he danced out.

‘Good evening, Night Owls! I’m your host, Jack Delroy, and thank you for allowing me into your living rooms for the first of what I hope will be many, many shows,’ he declared as he took his mark, an extremely brief prayer to the heavens you noticed was not part of his rehearsals offered up now that he was in front of the cameras. ‘I’d like to thank everyone who helped bring this dream to life, especially my dear mom and dad back in Berwyn, Illinois, who I know are sitting in front of their TV set, big smiles on their faces, watching “The Tonight Show” with Johnny Carson.”’ A drum beat was hit right on cue as he made a pained face, the audience eating it up as you also couldn’t help but laugh despite hearing the bit over and over while he practiced, and the smile that followed kicked those butterflies into overdrive as he gazed up at everyone starting to fall in love with him already.

You felt that pride only grow as the night went on, Jack feeding you all the energy you needed throughout the show until you didn't need it anymore, the two of you meshing so well it was like you'd always known each other. All of his jokes landed, his personality translated greatly to the camera, and you couldn't help but tease when a woman in the audience called him handsome, his face lighting up faster than the 4th of July at the comment. You saw it and couldn't help but join in, Jack hiding from the cameras playfully as the audience agreed, someone else saying they'd been listening to his show for years and that he did not have a face for radio, and when he laughed loud you laughed right along with him.

All in all it was a successful first night, very much so if you did say so yourself, and when it was over and the cameras were cut you all gathered out on stage for hugs and cheers as the audience gave their final applause and headed out the doors. Leo, who might have burned straight through to his fourth pack you did not doubt, hooked his arms around both your neck and Jack's, big kisses pressed to your cheeks as he promised champagne for everyone who was still awake enough to stick around. You wanted to decline, go home and sleep, but the moment you saw Jack loosen his tie and accept a glass for a toast you found yourself not so tired anymore.

You got more used to your new schedule as the weeks turned to months, Night Owls getting more popular as time went on to everyone's delight, and as you became closer as co-hosts you ended up finding a pretty good friend in Jack as well. Being a proper night owl was hard, but he helped you get into a livable routine of it as he invited you out before the show, made sure you got used to eating so you wouldn't be running on empty despite the late hour, a quick coffee not enough to cut it you learned after the first week.

It was while you were out on one of these pre-show dinners that you learned about Madeleine, his girlfriend that he'd met a couple months ago and officially asked out with the news that Night Owls was in the Top 10. Your smile faltered for just a second before you caught yourself and shook her hand, and she was polite and beautiful as she sat down next to Jack and blushed as he wrapped his arm around her and kissed her neck. You'd never seen him like this before, so doting and flustered and very clearly in love as he couldn't keep his eyes off of her, and you kept your smile up all the way through their talks about how they met, how much she adored him while he tried to switch the conversation to her, up until you headed for the show, and when you walked through the doors Leo took one look at you and offered you his whiskey without a word, a new one already poured by the time you drank it back.

You weren't jealous of Madeleine, you weren't, but by God if you didn't feel a twinge every time she showed up backstage on her way home from one of her own shows to kiss him goodnight. He was head over heels and it showed when he went on stage, his energy unmatched as he delivered the best hours of his life to the masses every weeknight. You were there for every single one, never letting the facade crack as you stood next to him, played off his jokes, spun the wheel and got more hugs than him from happy winners as his slightly younger and conventionally attractive counterpart, as Leo once described you, and even acted alongside him in some random sketches since you both weren't actors and your campiness brought charm to it. 

You weren't jealous of her, but you couldn't deny your feelings for him the night he announced his engagement, not even a year into their relationship, as Jack tapped his glass with his knife and got everyone's attention. He declared it to the room, everyone who was able to attend out for a big Night Owl dinner to celebrate one year on air, and after you all toasted to that he surprised you all with invitations to the wedding, which was to be a small gathering of just their family and closest friends, which he now considered all of you to be. You toasted to that as well, but didn't realize you'd started crying until Leo handed you a tissue and offered to pour you more wine, since you'd just finished off your glass. You didn't stand out, some of the others were crying too over the news, but you had a feeling that Leo knew your tears weren't in joy for the happy couple when he offered you his handkerchief next.

It got better with time, honestly you didn't even think that your crush was that strong to begin with, it was more so the fact that your best friend was taken than anything, and you were able to push past it with great success. As the first year turned into two you only became closer, and you didn't even feel jealous anymore when you and Leo were invited up to Madeleine's family cottage up in the mountains that Christmas. You had a wonderful time, and you joined in the teasings right along with her as Jack was gifted the ugliest sweater you'd ever seen in your life, which he of course wore proudly while denying its ugliness, although you could not tell if it was just another bit or not. Gifts were exchanged, drinks were had, and when you fell asleep in the spare room while watching the snowfall outside you felt like you'd found yourself a family with those three, and that meant much more to you than any crush ever would.

It broke your heart when Madeleine's diagnosis was shared with you that morning a few years in, genuinely shattered it as his voice cracked and he had to cover his mouth to stop himself from breaking down. ‘We just received the news last night,’ he confided in you, the two of you currently having breakfast together because he couldn't be home when she wasn't there. ‘Her parents are coming down, her sister is at the hospital with her while she's doing more tests to be sure, I don't… I stopped smoking inside for her, she hated the smell of it, and she's never smoked a day in her life, I don't understand, I just don't-’

You reached across the table to place your hand on his arm, and he held onto you as he finally did break down, people glancing over to watch and guess as you fought not to glare at them. You moved to his side of the table, protecting him with your silhouette, and when the waitress came over to take your orders you asked for a bit more time while he hunched over his cold coffee and just breathed.

The atmosphere was solemn as Jack wheeled Madeleine backstage to get ready, both of your friends looking like the life had been sucked out of them as everyone gave her their polite but quiet hellos. You went last, only going because Leo nudged you directly in the spine to get your legs to move, and she took off her oxygen mask so she could pull you down into a tight hug.

‘Take care of him for me,’ she whispered in your ear just quietly enough for you to hear, and you knew you were crying before you could even pull away.

You gave them all the space they needed during the show, no time for quips or jokes as she talked about how they met, their hands clasped the entire hour as everyone just listened. No one hid their tears, not even Jack as she told him she loved him, and she was still beautiful as you saw him whisper it back to her.

When the show was over there were so many goodbyes, no one honestly knew how much time she had left, and she still made sure to talk to everyone until it became too much and she needed a break. The crowd thinned then, until it was just you, Jack and Madeleine, and even Leo, who refused to leave until he could lock up the place, although you all knew why he kept hanging around. He didn't even smoke as she was brought back out to their car, your producer graciously helping Jack lift her into her seat even though she insisted she could, just to be polite.

You felt useless as you just stood there, making sure the chair wouldn't roll away until it was folded and placed carefully into the backseat, and when you and Leo waved them goodbye he didn't even complain and say that life was tough so you'd better get used to it when you clung to his jacket and cried about how unfair the world was being to your friends.

Madeleine passed two weeks later, and it was to no one's surprise when Jack went missing.

Even you didn't know where he was as you waited in your apartment for a single sign that he was still in New York, your phone pulled so far into the living room to make sure you'd hear it from any room if it rang that you’d tripped on the overextended cord a couple times already. It was weird not going to work, but even still your body didn't let you sleep until 2AM as usual no matter what time you climbed into bed. Despite that, it was hard to wake up knowing that Madeleine was now gone and Jack was nowhere to be found, and you ended up a bit of a recluse once the tabloids found out where you lived and tried to see if you knew anything.

You didn't, which stung, but even if you did you'd never say a thing to lead them to wherever he was, you could never betray your friend like that when he was hurting so much.

It was around midnight during the middle of the second week that your phone finally rang, and when all you heard on the other side was Leo's voice giving you an address you had barely enough sense to write it down and race over as fast as you could. You found Jack there, at Leo's second house just outside New York, the address unlisted so the vultures couldn't get to him when he needed a break, the man of the hour looking so tired and drained it was like a part of him literally died along with her, not just figuratively. The first thing you did was want to hug him the moment you saw him sitting in the next room, but before you could Leo grabbed you by the arm and all but dragged you through the nearest door, which ended up being a much too spacious closet for one Leo Fiske, you thought.

‘Take it easy on him, he almost went back to Chicago,’ he told you in a hushed voice, which only made you feel worse because you wouldn’t have known. ‘He’s been crashing here since the funeral, said home was too painful or something, only just today let me tell you he was here cause he isn’t about to run anymore.’ He tried to play it off that he didn’t care and that this was a nuisance to him, but you could see in his eyes that he was just as worried as you were.

‘I will,’ you promised as you kept yourself from crumbling, just knowing that he’d been here hiding from the world because his pain was too much made your heart ache, and when Leo finally let you go you approached him carefully; he was hunched over a photo album, it stuffed with the years they’d spent together, a bottle of whiskey on the coffee table and his half-filled glass in hand as he looked too miserable to even cry anymore. ‘Jack?’ you asked softly, and when he looked up it was almost like he didn’t even see you as he expected to see Madeleine once more, like this was all one big bad dream and he was about to wake up.

‘Oh, when did you get here?’ he mumbled when his eyes focused and saw you, and you couldn’t hide your own pain as you moved to sit down.

‘Just now, Leo called me,’ you explained, a bit of space between you as he nodded, drank the rest of his whiskey, and turned the page.

‘Ah yeah, I told him he could, didn’t I?’ It wasn’t really a question, and he didn’t wait for your answer as he tried to pour himself more and ended up dropping the bottle. It shattered against the hard surface of the table and spilled the dark liquid everywhere, his album almost falling into it before your hands quickly shot out to save it. At the thought of him almost ruining what he had left of her he broke down again, whiskey dripping onto the carpet below as he hid his face in his hands and started to cry.

‘I got it, Jack,’ Leo quickly said as he tossed down some embroidered towels to soak it up, clearly money wasn’t an issue for him as he ruined even more of his expensive things to help his friend, the album set safely aside as the two of you cleaned up his mess.

‘My fault, it’s all my fault…’ he moaned as his legs were lifted and more towels were tossed down, his movements starting to sway as the alcohol took hold of him. ‘Minnie, what did I do…?’

‘I think it’s time he gets to bed, you’ll find it upstairs, 3rd door on the left,’ Leo muttered under his breath as Jack almost fell onto the cushions, gravity starting to take hold as well. You just nodded and stood, hoisting his arm over your shoulders and helping him stand while Leo took care of the mess, the sound of the couch being moved following you all the way to the stairs. You trailed whiskey footsteps behind you for a bit, shiny shoe prints that showed where you’d been as you headed up, his head still lucid enough that he didn’t fall or leave you to support his weight entirely.

His bedroom was a wreck, the splendor of the house lost in the mess he’d made in his depression, but you just carefully stepped around fallen clothes and his open suitcase until you reached the bed. He collapsed onto it and just sobbed, it making him look small for once as he curled up, and you were in the middle of taking his shoes off for him when he looked up and something flashed across his face. ‘Oh, there you are, when did you get here?’ he asked again, and you swallowed the thick lump in your throat as you placed his shoes on the ground.

‘Just now,’ you repeated, and he nodded before staring at the empty space beside him. He whimpered as he ran his hand over the comforter, it was too empty after so many years of her being beside him every night, and when you sat down and his hand found yours in the dark you didn’t object. He pulled you into that space, eyes unfocused again in his drunken haze, he was absolutely ruined and you wished you could do more for him as you brushed his hair out of his eyes and let him find comfort in your presence.

‘What did I do… this was never supposed to happen…’ he was murmuring to himself, and you just whispered that it was okay, his hand finding your face next as he traced the shapes in the dim light. ‘It was never supposed to turn out this way… you have to believe me… please believe me, Minne…’ You shut your eyes, your hand trembling as you held his hand and tried to decipher what he meant, but you were never able to as he suddenly let out a small gasp, the hand gently brushing your cheek now pressed against you fully. ‘Minnie?’

Your eyes shot open to see him staring at you, his own glazed over from the whiskey as he saw her in your face, and you only cried harder as he started to sit up.

‘I’ve missed you, I missed you so much,’ he told her, but she was you, and he couldn’t hear your voice as he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and held you close. You didn’t look anything like her, but it must not have mattered as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips cold against your skin as he sobbed, and you were ready to pretend until sleep took him when you felt him kiss you properly; you pulled away, startled, but he held on tight and tried again, the tears never stopping as he whispered apologies against your mouth, and when he tried a third time you kissed him back.

You hadn’t had feelings for him in years, there were no butterflies as your friend then curled against your chest and hugged you around the waist as he kept mumbling nonsense only he understood, but you’d give him one more minute with Madeleine if you truly could, you would trade anything for that. You couldn’t find Jack Delroy in the man falling asleep against you, he was missing just as much as she was as you rubbed his back and let him rest, and when Leo came upstairs and found you like that he just sighed and walked over. He didn’t say a word as he helped free you, his handkerchief offered to you again as you wiped your eyes and blew your nose, Jack now sleeping as peacefully as his heart would let him.

‘I’ll stay with him, it’s been bad tonight, you head home for now,’ he said softly, and you nodded before giving him one final glance and walking back to the front door. It felt even colder out as you headed for your car, the keys in your hand when you heard footsteps behind you, and when you spun around you saw a stranger standing there, leaning against Leo’s car. ‘Who’re you?’ you demanded angrily, you were not about to allow some lowlife paparazzi to invade this place and take pictures of his grief, but he had no camera on him, the stranger just holding up a hand nonchalantly.

‘Just a friend of Jack’s, I heard he was here,’ the man replied, and your brows furrowed instantly.

‘I know Jack’s friends, I’ve never seen you before,’ you hissed, and he shrugged and pulled out a cigarette.

‘We met back in Cali years ago, when I heard what happened I came down right away.’ He lit the end with a large, Zippo lighter, an owl etched into the side facing you you were just barely able to see in the moonlight, and it clinked loudly shut as he blew the smoke your way. ‘You two, you seem pretty close, anything going on that I should know about?’

‘Wha- how dare you insinuate anything just weeks after his wife-’ you started to threaten as you stepped closer, and he held up his hand again and brushed shoulder-length, blonde hair aside with a small laugh.

‘Easy, it was just an observation,’ he chuckled, but you still wanted to punch his lights out as he blew more smoke towards you and made you cough. ‘You’d still do anything for him though, right? I mean, working together for so many years, becoming that close, it must tear you up inside to see him like this, doesn’t it?’

‘Of course it does, they’re my family, Madeleine was my friend, if I could help him in any way then I would, it’s not even a question,’ you spat out, your voice rising just enough for him to motion for you to calm down before you garnered any attention from nosy neighbours.

‘So if you could help him, you would?’ he asked cryptically, and you didn’t know what kind of friend he was supposed to be, but you wouldn’t lie about this, not when you still had his tears drying on your shirt.

‘Yes, I would trade anything to be able to help him get his life back,’ you said seriously, and you swore you saw the stranger’s blue eyes shine as the clouds above uncovered the moon.

‘Interesting, you really care about him, huh?’ he thought aloud, and when you just nodded he chuckled again and held the cigarette between his lips. ‘I’ll ask our mutual friends back in Cali if they know any tricks to get him outta this funk, he’ll be back on camera in no time,’ he told you, cutting off your anger at his depression being condensed down to just a ‘funk’ as he held out his hand for you to shake. You didn’t want to, but he wasn’t letting up as his smile only grew, the corner of his mouth twitching eagerly as he waited, so you just sighed and grabbed on for the world’s fastest shake when he held on tight, grabbed his cigarette, and pressed the end directly into the back of your hand.

‘Ow! What the fuck?!’ you yelped as you pulled back, but there was no mark to go along with the burn, and when you looked back up you were alone again, the clouds covering the moon once more as an owl hooted in the darkness beyond where you couldn’t see.

Two weeks later, Jack was all over the news again as UBC announced his return, along with the addition of his new co-host, an old TV veteran by the name of Gus McConnell who meshed with him so well it was like he’d always been there. You smiled as you heard the news, something in your chest aching as you watched from your parents’ couch; you’d gotten sick the past week and had to quit your old job, temporarily moving back home with them since it was getting bad enough you couldn’t take care of yourself, unfortunately, but everyone was hopeful for the future thanks to your determination.

The memory of whatever your old job was was hazy now as a cough wracked through you, but that didn’t matter much as you got cozy under the blanket and tried not to let the pain overtake your excitement. You’d been a fan of Jack’s for years, you could still remember his first show so clearly almost like you’d been there, but you’d never had the time to grab yourself a ticket to join the studio audience no matter how much fun you thought it would be. The segment wasn’t long, just a quick announcement since he’d disappeared somewhere for a month, but you still watched with bated breath as a date showed up on screen.

His return show would be the following Monday, a fresh start to make up for his absence, and already you were excited to watch as you grabbed the remote and flipped from the news to a movie you could fall asleep to despite the early hours of the day. You were a night owl, tried and true, and you wanted to be awake for midnight so you could catch that night’s rerun in preparation for Monday, the small, circular birthmark on the back of your hand throbbing faintly as you shut your eyes and fell asleep.

[vintagepresley]

Request: elvis is fingering y/n (with his rings) and one of them comes off. When he notices a little bit later he immediately stops (y/n whines as she was almost there). He tells her what happened and she almost has a panic attack and immediately spreads her legs and tries to find it but can’t and now has a panic attack. E sits her up and holds her into his chest stroking her back trying to get her to calm down. He asks her if he can find it. So he spreads her legs and begins to feel and look around. After awhile it is getting too painful but still Nothing. This makes reader begin to cry again and her breath hyperventilated. Elvis soothes her again. Honestly not sure what to do it is 2am so no place is open to call and the emergency room is out of the question. Has you continued freaking out e calls Dr. Nick and asks him to come up to his hotel room. E grabs you one of his shirts to slip on so you are a little covered. he doesn’t tell you why then you hear a knock on the door and e opens it Dr nick comes in frantic asking elvis what is wrong with him thinking it is about him. But elvis points to you crying and explains what happened and what he could do. Dr. Nick explains he can use forceps to help and get it out. (Reader hasn’t been to the gyno yet because of the anxiety around that so this is a lot) elvis is the only person to have ever seen her. But she agrees and lays back down but holding the shirt down covering herself. Dr nick tells her the position she needs to be in and she hesitates into it holding onto Elvis’s hand for dear life. Dr nick places the forceps and it is an intense stretch but dr nick apologizes saying she needed a smaller size but it is unfortunately all that is in his emergency bag. You squeeze your eyes shut has he begins to find it so sensitive from the previous events of the night. Elvis takes a peek down there making sure you don’t catch him looking but he wasn’t expecting to see what looked like Dr. Nick just knuckles deep in his girl he weirdly gets turned on coughs to ‘hide’ his moan that slipped. Dr. Nick finally finds the ring and lays it on the towel he has with his supplies. He warns he is about to remove the forceps. Your breath hinges at the feeling a single tear rolls down your cheek and e noticed and this breaks him as he kisses it away feeling awful putting you through this. Dr nick gives you a wet rag to wipe yourself off. As he wipes the ring off on the towel and hands it back to e saying “here’s your ring back mr. Presley”. You have never seen e go so red in your entire life. Dr nick leaves. You turn to elvis he apologizes frantically and kisses you but you pull back and ask him straight up “elvis why the hell did you moan at the sight of that” and you didn’t think it was possible but he went even redder than before. He didn’t think you heard him earlier.

Sorry this is a long request but I was hoping you could make this request long too. I love the detail in your writing. And those pictures of e’s hands made me feral lol

Omg, I love this request. Thank you! ❤️ (This photo seemed very fitting, lol.)

Your hands were clutching onto the bedsheets as your body squirmed against the bed and your legs spread wide open as you watched Elvis in between them. His fingers knuckle deep inside of you and pumping swiftly and the pressure of his rings making the wonder sensation even more stimulating. The moans that were leaving your lips grow louder with each thrust his fingers made inside of you, driving you wild and over the edge. "Atta girl.. Making my rings such a mess." he hummed with a smirk as he watched as you grew wetter for him. Your slick coating his fingers completely as he began to jackrabbit his fingers inside of you causing your legs to close around his hand as you cried out his name and whimpered softly.

Elvis forced your legs back open wanting to see you take his fingers like the good little slut you were for him. As he glanced down again he noticed that one of his rings were missing and now those pleasurable sounds that were escaping you as you grew closer to your orgasm were now painful groans. Elvis looked horrified and you caught a glimpse of his face as you were confused as to why it was suddenly so painful. "W-What? What's wrong? Why does it hurt?" you said with a pout as whine escaped you. He didn't know how to tell you at first because he didn't want you to freak out. He nervously rubbed the back of his neck with his other hand and he sighed softly. "Uh.. You have to promise to not freak out, honey." He mumbled under his breath. You furrowed your brow at him as you sat up on your elbows. "Tell me.." you demanded feeling a sharp pain inside of you.

"One of my rings.. Um.. It's... It's inside of ya..." he said nervously. "What?!" you began to panic almost on the verge of having an anxiety attack as you spread your legs open wider and stuck a finger inside of yourself trying to find it. But you had no look which only made you panic even more. "What are we going to do!?!? It hurts!" You cried as you started hyperventilating. Elvis pulled you into his arms trying to comfort you as best as he could. He was trying not to panic himself because there was no place for him to be able to take you anywhere at two in the morning. Taking you to the emergency room was out of the question. "It's gonna be alright, Little. I'll figure somethin' out." he assured you. You continued to cry softly trying not to focus on the pain as Elvis left the room for a moment to call Dr. Nick up to his hotel room and not giving him much detail about the emergency. When Elvis was done on the phone he came back into the bedroom and he gave you one of his shirts to cover up with and didn't explain to you why.

Suddenly there's a knock on the door and Elvis hurries to go answer it and Dr. Nick comes in frantic thinking that something was wrong with Elvis or that he was hurt. "Are you okay? What's going on?" Dr. Nick asks. "I-I'm fine.. It's Y/N.." Elvis says softly as he points over to you and now you were groaning loudly in pain. Elvis explains to Dr. Nick exactly what happened and for a moment Dr. Nick nearly looked horrified himself. "I can use forceps and see what I can do." He nodded. You were nervous as you watched Dr. Nick take the forceps out of his bag. You had never been to the gynecologists before because you always had bad anxiety about it and on top of that Elvis was the only man to ever see you. You just felt embarrassed and nervous about the whole ordeal. But you needed the ring out of you so you agreed to everything Dr. Nick explained that he was going to be doing. So you laid back on the bed and using the shirt to cover yourself and Dr. Nick tells you the position to be in and you hesitate for a moment, but Elvis was right there holding your hand and comforting you through it.

You take small deep breaths as you stared up at the ceiling trying to pretend this wasn't happening right now. You suddenly felt this intense pressure the moment the doctor used the forceps on you. You nearly scooted away from him because of the pain. Dr. Nick stops for a moment. "I'm sorry, Y/N. You'd need a small set of forceps, but this was all I had with me right now." he says apologetically. You squeeze your eyes tight from the pain and just nod at his words, squeezing Elvis' hand so tight as you felt the doctor inside trying to find the ring and your were already so sensitive from the nights events. Elvis ran his hand over your head and kissed your forehead. "I'm so sorry, baby." he whispered to you. Elvis stood there and decided to take a little peek down there without you noticing and he wasn't expecting to see Dr. Nick's hand knuckle deep inside of his girl. Elvis clears his throat loudly trying to hide the moan that escaped him. He didn't expect for that to turn him on.

Dr. Nick finally finds the ring and he pulls it out and sets it on the towel that he had sat on the bed beside you. "You're gonna feel a bit of pressure as I pull the forceps out now, Y/N." he says with a nod. You inhale sharply and nod at his words and you winced softly in pain when you felt him remove them and a single tears rolls down your cheek and you sniffled softly. Elvis notices this and he just feels so awful and he leans down to kiss away your tear and caressing his hand against your face. "It's okay, honey. It's over now." He whispered to you. Dr. Nick hands you a wet rag to wipe yourself off and then he wipes the ring clean with the towel and hands the ring back to Elvis. "Here's your ring back, Mr. Presley." Dr. Nick said. You had never in your life see Elvis as red as he was in this moment and he tries to nervously laugh off what just happened.

Dr. Nick makes his way out and Elvis turns to you with so much remorse in his eyes as he climbed into the bed beside you and pulling you into his arms. "I'm so sorry, honey. I didn't mean for this to happen or for you to get hurt." he said apologetically over and over as he kisses you. But you pull back from him and furrow your brow a bit as you ask him straight out. "Elvis.. Why the hell did you moan at the sight of that!?" you asked him in a serious tone. You didn't think it was even possible for this man to get even redder but it was happening right before your eyes and he couldn't even look at you now because he didn't think you heard that. He had never felt more embarrassed than in this moment and he had decided next time he fingers you he would be taking his rings off.

*

[darkeunology]

hey! i saw you’re looking for requests and boy do i have so many but most of them have to do with Peeta lol. so maybe something where it’s like Peeta and reader sneaking out to look at stars together while they’re best friends and maybe in a modern au? hope this’ll inspire you! :)

♡ In the Stars I see you ♡

Word Count: 721 (Sorry it's so short)

Pairings: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Warnings: None, pure fluff

Summary: Peeta sneaks you out of your University dorm to lie on the roof and watch the stars with him.

Requests Open. Not Proof read

I haven't actually written for Peeta before as far as I can remember but I loved writing this, I would love some more Peeta requests if anyone has any!

Peeta and yourself had been close friends since childhood. You lived in a small village which meant you’d gone to the same school together, becoming fast friends in the playground after you’d defended Peeta against some of the meaner children in the school. From that day when you were both 5 years old, you’d been almost inseparable. You’d gone to the same high school together and spent almost all your waking moments together, helping each other with homework, calling on each other at 2am when partners had broken up with you, finding the desperate comfort needed between each other's embrace. You’d both hated each other and healed through each other. 

So when the two of you went to different Universities, it was a definite adjustment, Peeta had moved to another state, going to study business in the hopes to open his own bakery, a dream he’d shared with you years ago - whilst you’d managed to get into the University close to your childhood home, moving into the dorms to have some independence from your parents, but still going home to see them as much as you could. Peeta and you both struggled for a while with the newfound distance between yourselves, it was weird not having the person you’d spent so much of your life with around you anymore, knowing that you could no longer just go round to Peeta’s house whenever you needed his comfort, knowing that you now could simply just facetime each other and that was as close as the two of you would get to each other during term times. It was an adjustment, but one that both of you eventually got used to. 

You weren’t expecting to see Peeta again until the spring break, one month from now, so when you heard the tapping on your window late at night on a Wednesday night, you were confused to say the least when you opened the window to see Peeta standing below, throwing rocks up at the window, “What are you doing here?” you asked, a fond smile plastered on your face at the sight of your best friend. 

“I wanted to see you.” Peeta spoke, being as quiet as he could be whilst still needing to be heard by you, “Go up to the roof.” he spoke again, a mischievous glint in his eyes that you could see from here, 

“I can’t, curfew was 2 hours ago, if I get caught out of dorm security might kill me.” you joked, knowing that no matter when curfew was, you’d always sneak up to the roof to be with him again. 

“Go to the roof.” he repeated again, grinning up at you as he walked away to climb the fire escape up to the roof. 

Shaking your head, you closed your window, putting a hoodie on to shield yourself from the chilly spring night before quietly sneaking out of your room, climbing up the few flights of stairs up to the roof, opening the door to see Peeta stood there waiting, a blanket layed down at his feet, 

“Hey sweetheart.” he spoke, his arms stretched out for a hug, an achingly wide smile on his face. Easily, you walked into his arms, yours wrapping tightly around his waist as his wrapped around your shoulders, his warmth flooding through your body, it felt in that moment like all your stress from this semester just left your body, every part of you relaxing as you hugged Peeta. 

“I missed you.” you mumbled into his chest, he hummed lightly, 

“I missed you too, sweetheart.” he kissed you on top of your head before unwrapping you from the hug, “Come lie down, I thought we could spend some time looking up at the stars.” he suggested, looking slightly nervous at the idea, hoping you’d like it. 

“Sounds amazing.” you confirmed, following him down onto the blanket, him wrapping his arm around you as you rest your head on his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat calming you down as you both spent the last few hours of the night staring up at the stars painting the sky, both of you laying in content silence, just drinking in each other’s company whilst you still could.

[oblivious-idiot]

Could you do a George karim x reader where he's been working himself too hard and she spends time with him to distract him/make him take a break?

Cinnamon Distractions

AN: Thank you for this! Sorry it took a little while to write it but I hope you like it!! I kept throwing different plots points about with this until I liked it, but I think it's kinda cute and I hope it's worth the wait <3

Warnings: literally 99% fluff really, kissing, George is in love lol, I guess kinda suggestive to their relationship but nothing actually happens

Word count: 1.2k

Pairings: George Karim x fem!Reader

While working on the current case at Lockwood and Co you'd all been cracking down pretty hard on the research to make sure you knew as much as possible before attempting to deal with the haunting that you soon had to face. George though, like always, had a habit of staying up until the early hours of the morning searching through countless scraps of information, more often than not he would only bring himself to bed once he felt himself falling asleep.

You and George had been dating for a almost six months and you'd known him for well over a year by now, so you were used to his hyperfixations on research and books, regardless if it was about a haunting or The Problem as a whole. With this latest case though, you could clearly see George working himself to the bone each night and you'd began to worry, even though he told you countless of times he was fine and not to worry, albeit each time never meeting your eye because he was too busy with his head buried in papers.

When George was like this it was hard to get him out of it, he was a stubborn little shit after all, but that was one of the reasons you loved him - even if this one time it did frustrate you.

George was quite good at shutting himself off when buried deep into researching, you were used to it along with him coming into bed during the early hours of the morning. With this case though, he often got so distracted and lost track of time that he ended up falling asleep in the library because he hadn't realised the fact it way past 3am when he finally passed out.

One of the following nights where George forgot to come to bed, you were coming down the stairs to fetch a glass of water and you noticed the lamp in the library was still on and creeped in. Of course, George was hunched over the table with his notes splayed across the table "Georgie, honey, it's 2am.." you yawn as you rubbed your hand on his shoulder. He rested his head on your hand and let out a soft yawn in return "yeah, sorry, I'm coming up soon.."

You sat down next to him, rubbing your eyes and taking his hand in yours, and so he turned to face you. He smiled when he noticed you were wearing his top as pyjamas again, sometimes he forgot how gorgeous you looked half asleep. "George, come on, you need to get some rest" you say to him, snapping him out of his gaze towards you with your tired and slightly frustrated tone. "I'm really close now, I mean-" "it can wait George" you cut him off "you're burning yourself out, and you know your mind is best after a good sleep." He looks away from you, unable to tear himself away from the table "I'll be up soon, I promise..." he says quietly, but you just let out a annoyed sigh in return and head back upstairs, leaving George to his papers.

The next day after George's late night you found him while he researched in the living room, his books dotted across the couch. You moved some of the books out the way and sat down next to him on the couch, laying your legs out on his lap as you picked up a book you had been currently reading. In turn one of his hands subconsciously gently rested on your thigh as he scoured through his notebook and history books. "I'm sorry about last night y/n" George said honestly as he rubbed his thumb gently on your leg, he wasn't the best at apologies so you knew he meant it "just make sure you come to bed at a reasonable time tonight, alright?" you tease him with a smile, any tension between you two dissipating.

After a couple of hours of reading, neither of you had really moved from your spots - apart from the occasional absentminded stroking on your legs from George, you finally put down your book and let out a needed stretch. "I think I've almost figured out all the details for the case now y/n" George smiles as eyes are fixated on his books as he traces his fingers along sentences. You lean over towards George, taking his books from his hands and closing them before putting them on the floor beside you "You need to take a break from researching, so I'm suggesting we do something different today" George opens his mouth to protest but just gives you a defeated pout.

"Very well then, you win." George finally says, pulling you closer to him "What would M'Lady suggest we do on a day like today?" he teasingly smirked at the nickname while he gestures with his head outside, where you can both see the ruthless downpour of rain lashing on the street. "Now that you mention it, you have been promising me that we'd do some baking for quite some time now" you give him a cheeky grin knowing that he wouldn't be able to suggest anything else, "oh well I guess we can work something out, it's not like I can say no to you after all" George chuckles before pulling you into a kiss, soft and sweet but you both pull away before you get distracted from your new task at hand.

After successfully dragging George away from his books and into the kitchen, George just watches you happily as you start looking through recipe books "ooooh, we should make cinnamon rolls" you suggested with excited eyes. God he was so in love with you and your childish excitement when it comes to sugary bakes, he couldn't help but just stand and stare at you, the cutest grin on his face. "What...? Do I have something on my face?" you give him a confused look, to which he just chuckles to himself and take the book from your hands to place on the table "no, but cinnamon rolls sound great."

The two of you busy yourselves with the baking, occasionally tossing flour at each other or stealing a kiss while the other is concentrating. George gives you the task of making the cinnamon butter while he rolls out the dough "just please for the love of god, don't over do it with the cinnamon..." which makes you chuckle, reminding you of the time Lockwood tried making the same recipe before and poured in a whole jar of cinnamon, "sorry, do I look like Anthony Lockwood to you?" you give him a dirty look with a smirk tracing your lips, "bloody hell, I would hope not" he replies, which makes you both laugh.

Once the rolls had baked in the oven and had cooled, George mixed up the icing which you kept dipping your finger in to taste for 'quality control' and 'to make sure it's the right consistency', which he kept having to swat away, but the two of you smiled like idiots at each other. It was times like this you really appreciated living with George and spending little moments with him away from working, reminding the two of you how sweet it was to be young and with someone you loved.

[the-broken-pen]

Cuddle, an intense cuddle scene in the dark grotesque hallway filled with soft sobs, until its the villain flinching from the same dull fuzzy ache in very core of their heart, their skin feeling tingles against the warm of the cozy couch and flurry blanket wrapped around them with the hero sound and softy breathing in their arms. Their small hands cluched on the material of the loose shirt in their smol fist.

Now this is so wrong because they were just suppose to return the favour in time when they need. They almost lost the hope with a heavy longing heart to be ever to see hero again, but here they are giving in with their plead to, "...just hold me for once...hold me tight..." with their heart crumbling like cookie in their pious hand.

Actual ask:I always write promts of unfolding scene, lol. Can u do a quick monologue from villain while cuddles.

I craved reading the energy ur dailogue fumes with. Finally finding ur a/c here was like discovering a new nirvana. Congratulations on having just another supporter *flashing u my best giddy smiles* lol

The hero was sound asleep in their lap, and the villain was panicking, just a little. Not panicking exactly—their schedule wasn’t exactly conducive to panic attacks—but they were….frazzled. Yes, that was a good word for it.

They shifted slightly and the hero mumbled their displeasure. The villain froze, because what were they supposed to—they carded their hand through the hero’s hair as soothingly as they could. The hero quieted, hand clutching into the villain’s shirt.

The villain sighed with relief.

The hero looked exhausted. The kind of exhausted you find in hospital rooms and gas stations at 2am. Maybe that was why, when the hero had sobbed, “Can you just—hold me, for a second, I just—“ the villain had let the hero collapse into their arms.

The villain, selfishly, was glad they were asleep.

The hero needed the rest, sure, but mostly the villain had just wanted the hero to stop crying. They didn’t know how to handle that. They weren’t a gentle person, someone who knew the correct words at the correct moments; but the hero was. And the hero deserved the same kind of comfort in return, so the last time this had happened, the villain had tried their best.

The last time, the hero, crying and bloody and entirely a mess, looked at them, said their name in a collapsed hallway, and the villain had—not panicked, because they didn’t do that—become increasingly frazzled.

And then the hero had been in their arms, and they were sitting on the ground, because the villain had hugged them.

The villain was an idiot.

They swore it wouldn’t happen again, because it couldn’t. The hero could never be their friend, and the villain could never be theirs.

It happened again.

It was happening now.

And the villain, secretly, was glad the hero was asleep, because they just wanted this moment, this forbidden thing, to last. Because if the hero saw the villain’s face right now, the hero would know that the villain cared.

The villain couldn’t care. They weren’t allowed to.

But desperately, they did.

For now, they simply brushed the hero’s hair back. Held them tighter, resting their chin on the top of the hero’s head. They let themself have this stolen, forbidden, soft thing.

Because they knew, when the hero woke up, it would be gone.

So, they listened to the hero’s breathing, and selfishly, hopelessly, let themselves care.

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Hey Aerie! Did someone really just fucking stole an idea from you??? Wtf I'm mad about this.

If you don't want to talk about the werewolf (!!!!!!) Neil au bc of that I totally understand, but I would also listen if you'd talk about it! (I'm maybe a little bit feral about werewolves... I know you like vampires a lot ;-) but I am a slut for werewolves...)

I hope you are asleep right now but have a great day when you read this!! Love you <3

Unfortunately I was not asleep when I got this last night. Lol. It was 2am and I had just laid down. :') <3333 But I love you! <33 Also omg werewolves were my shit when I was younger, then somehow it swapped to vampires? :'))

Also if you want I'll tell you about the 'fic-stealing incident'. It was really annoying but it all worked out and I will now be writing it for the Paranormal Fic Fest instead. YAY! So nothing truly terrible happened but it was stressful and annoying at the time.

Beware: super long ramble under the cut. Unless you're Cody c-lion you probably don't wanna open that. :'))

The reason I never talked about this on my blog is because I figured somehow people would think I was in the wrong and send me mean shit. :') But what happened was... I signed up for the big bang again this year.

I wasn't going to because last year my artist partner literally disappeared and the mod didn't bother to tell me they dropped until I asked if they could check on them. But I figured I'd try again anyhow. So I came up with two ideas. (One being demon neil, which I submitted for the bang. And the other was werewolf neil, which I am SO insane about.)

I wrote outlines for both and decided to use the demon neil one. Then I got my partner assigned and they... Hardly ever responded. I mean, I answered them within minutes. It would take them several days to reply. Every single time. Then it got to a point where they just didn't answer at all for two whole weeks. I figured they were ghosting me, like last year.

They message me the day before the check-in and ask if the art idea (that I suggested) would be alright. Like. They hadn't started at all. I hadn't either, since they had disappeared. I didn't answer. Instead I told the mod I was dropping. And they said they would have another writer write my fic for me. Like...

Uh... It's the first check-in. The artist hasn't done shit yet. Why on earth would you give my fic to someone else? Like normally, this might not have been a problem. If I had been really vague with my idea. But when I wrote out my prompt I gave a lot of detail. I thought the more the better, so the artists would know what they would be working with. However...

Since I gave so much detail, they would've been writing My Fic. Not just a random au where Neil happens to be a demon. I mean I gave a simplified version of the plot? So. That would've been so suckish. But I explained to the mod that I wanted to keep my idea and they said they'd reassign the artist to a different writer instead.

So everything worked out in the end. But I was very, very upset when it was happening. Like... I had a bit of a panic attack. Which sounds stupid I guess. But I had planned this all out and I was in love with it. You don't kidnap a baby and hand it to some rando? TwT (My writing is all I have. I'm aware that it's sad, but it is true.)

Anyhow! I won't be doing a random partner event ever again because the last two have sucked. :')) (This is no shade to the mods or anything. I get it must be hard to run stuff. But partners disappearing and stuff... Sucks major ass. I don't wanna have to depend on a random stranger for a partnered thing.)

The first bang I ever did was amazing! It was for a different fandom, back in like 2017. But the partner I had for that was awesome and really sweet. We were friends for a while afterwards. So I guess my expectations were too high I guess? :')

But yeah! That was all that went down. Nothing terrible in the end. I just got very autistic-ly upset about my baby almost being snatched. (My friend's dms were... full of me blubbering about it:')) That being said! I will definitely have to come and talk about werewolf neil at some point! (And... maybe... add him to wipw... Eventually...)

If you read this far you're a saint. I love you! <3 Muah.