#its still better than being told to start all over again like he did w some of the others lmao

[amoristt]

the night falls like heaven

「 ✦nam-gyu/reader ✦ 」 tags: sfw // hurt/comfort, pining, nam-gyu's pov, lots of angst in an edgy way, very light drxg mentions,

a/n: this'll be a 2 part mini series! so excited to get this started ugh tysm to anon who requested this word count: 9.2k | songs i listened to (x) (x) original request (x)

・❥・Nam-gyu was not a man of many regrets. 

If he had to count, he could fit them all on one hand. Mostly from when he was a teen. Younger and somehow even more impulsive than he was now, drinking through money like water and getting into fights he’d never remember. The worst of them all, however, was one he hadn’t thought would really eat at him. It was unlike himself to get hung up over a girl of all things, but good lord, he was hanging. Strings and all, like a marionette, bleeding and sore at the joints. 

Tough to swallow couldn’t even compare to the feeling of when that specific regret suddenly pops up in the same room after years of abandon. If he hadn’t been so down bad, the sight of you would have only ruffled up his feathers enough to remind him of a better time, but in God’s honest eyes, those feathers of his had been ruffled since the dawn of the very instant you left. The door hadn’t even had a chance to hit you on your way out, nothing but dust and tears in your wake. He was stuck fast, left to his own devices, bouncing between wondering why he let it go so bad and whilst also begging God himself to make you stop being such a bitch. 

But the worst part, the worst part is that even now you still carry this aura of over it all around you. Self-respect colliding with the want to be loved was never an easy tango to dance, all steps just pulling and pushing and trying to snuff out useless feelings and red hot passion. But you twirled until he did what he did best and nudged you to the brink of your breaking point. All that sweet, sweet adoration drained from your face and he saw it- dignity. He saw it on you on your  way out of his apartment, storming past him with biting tears in your eyes. And now, years later, he gets to see it again from across the room.

You’re sitting on a high, high bunk you’ve claimed as yours, people watching. Other than the initial moment you’d seen him in the bubble of people, you haven't bothered sparing him a second glance. It was a beautiful moment- your eyes widening, stopped dead in your tracks before you were on the move all over again. He’s sneaking glances through the corners of his eyes, watching you over his shoulder, and you can’t even give him another second of your day. And the thing that really bothers him is that he knows he can’t stop. 

Out of everyone in this room, your distant presence is a fiery beacon in the darkness and he’s an angry, bitter moth. It’s in his very nature to circle and flutter one step behind, seeking the light, burning at its touch. Singed wings and an endless sneer. If only he could just stop touching the heat, he would surely move on. But he just can’t, and the fact that you can pisses him off so much it makes him lose his breath at times. 

He wished, with the very core of his entire being, that you were weaker. Or, at least, stupider. Maybe then you would have lived up to his expectations and showed up to his door, or at his club, teary eyed and lonely without his superior presence around. He could see it behind his eyes at night, the waver in your voice when you’d beg him to come back into your arms, and more importantly, back into your bed. 

I told you so, he’d say, with that shit eating grin and a hand on your waist guiding you out from the cold.

A forlorn, guideless sheep in need of your shepherd. He could be that for you. If only the word boyfriend didn’t make him shudder with every last fiber of his being. If only that specific little thing wasn’t your breaking point. Your face haunted him- that halo around your irises fading into something far away and charred when he’d had the nerve to actually laugh at you for it. You were grabbing your things and leaving, and he sat watching every moment in clips. It wasn’t anything, back then. You were just mad, in a few days you’d be right as rain climbing into his lap and peppering kisses along his throat. You’d be back, he was sure of it. 

But then the days turned into weeks. And then, to his distaste, those weeks faded into months of silence. He started to catch himself looking for you in crowds, visiting places you’d frequented at just to linger around like an awkward ghost in case he spotted you through the shifting crowds. But you were gone- vanished.

Fine. You’ll never see me again, asshole. 

Those words had been etched into the very walls of his cranium since they’d left your lips in a scathing hiss. Such nasty words, but they shook with every consonant. 

Among your pride was a healthy blend of honesty. You had been true to your word- he really did never see you again. Wiped your slate spotless of anything Nam-gyu.

And it drove him fucking crazy. It made him sick to his stomach in a way he did not think was possible. It was out of control- he couldn’t stop thinking about you, you, you. He missed you more than he didn’t, and he was angrier at himself than he’d like to admit. So instead of admitting, he funnels all that anger into the very shape of you. Drags in the idea of you, his memories of you and shoves them down, down, down, until he truly did think he hated you, after all. 

Until he’s clenching his fist so tight he’s drawing blood and telling himself he’s better off now, without some whining bitch in his ear begging him to stick that boyfriend pin into the thinness of his skin. Thinks that without you hanging on his arm all the damn time, he could really go out and have some fun. He thinks, and he thinks and he thinks until he’s thought too much and suddenly he loves you again and he misses you so bad it’s crushing him under the sheer weight of your absence. 

So, Nam-gyu does what Nam-gyu does best once again, and he drowns himself out with the bitter taste of drugs on his tongue and the sear of alcohol in his blood. 

It all stops.

For a time, anyway. 

You always found ways to seep back into his mind one way or another. Songs that would only make it a second in before he was mashing the skip button. A tv show you’d watched together surviving on the screen roughly a whole minute before it’s switched off. Sometimes it was when he saw something he knew you’d like- a shitty video or meme. Other times you came to him in whispers while he laid out on his own living room floor, out of his mind watching the blank ceiling above him twist and writhe under his spotty vision with a needle poking out of his arm. 

But, most times… Most times you would slither your way to the forefront of his mind just before bed. The touch of you, the smell of you. 

The shape of you underneath him. Hands and quiet breaths. He could still hear the noises you made ringing in his ears, stored away in his memories just to taunt him when he was indisputably alone. Soft skin, even softer thighs. Always so warm, and so wet. So willing. You would come to him while he curled over himself in bed, drunk on porn and memories. 

And afterwards, when Nam-gyu had finished, he would throw his head back onto his pillow and ignore the way it felt like there was a lump in his throat. And that would piss him off even more, because fuck, you should be there with him. Laying by his side running your hands through his hair until he’s falling asleep balancing on the fine line of afterglow and dozing off. 

But you aren’t. You’re doing fuck all with who knows in places he’s never been to, places you probably begged him to go but he couldn’t even remember the name of. You hadn’t answered a single one of his texts, you hadn’t picked up a single call and everytime he hears the first couple seconds of your stupid voicemail he wants to crush his phone in his hands. Vexation was a slippery slope into the fires of fury- rage was like a parasite under his skin, eating away at what little rational thinking he had. 

Voicemail after voicemail. Text after ignored text. Anger was the hardest stage- rage grew horns on the crown of his head and it turned him into something he couldn’t recognize. Or, something he refused to recognize- desperate and heartsick. 

It was supposed to be you. Not him. 

He filled the endless gaps of you with drugs often and women when he could. For a short time it would work and he would wonder why he ever let someone else get him so, so low. But then the drugs would wear off. The random woman in his room that he never bothered to learn the name of would grab her clothes and saunter out the door. He stopped letting them stay the night. He could never sleep, stared at the ceiling until 5am wondering why he still felt like shit. He would be right back where he started, sitting on the couch, staring at the door watching you leave over and over again.  

You stopped updating your socials, quit hanging out with the few people that bounced between his and your crowd, successfully scrubbed him of your life entirely. After a year, he resorted to asking around if anyone had seen you. The answer, as always, was a firm no. It was a corrosive feeling, a constant churn and thrum within the cage of his ribs. It made him even more unrecognizable to himself. Made him invite women into his lap just to shove them away when they didn’t smell like you, or sound like you. Or laugh like you.

It had been so, so perfect before. It was fun, and it was hot all the time, and sex with you felt like heaven was a place on earth. Why couldn’t you see that? Why did you have to go and ruin it with your words and pleading eyes? Nam-gyu doesn’t roll like that. You knew that. He’s a free spirit, he tells himself. No chains, no labels. No holding him down. Even if it was at the feet of this gorgeous, gorgeous body and a honey sweet voice that just always seemed to know what to say. Beautiful eyes that always watched, a smile so saccharine, whispering words against his ear so dirty it made him shiver just to think about. 

The world was too vast to be held down. 

But, truth be told, he was held down. 

He is held down. 

When you walked out of his apartment those years ago, he never left that spot, chewing his nails and anxiously spinning the ring on his finger, watching you go. He started seeing it behind his eyes. Replays it, changes the course, wonders where he’d be right now if he’d just said something different. 

Finding you at the games was like divine intervention. It had to be. Some higher power had crossed his path and plopped you right in front of him. With rolling eyes and a deadpan stare at anything except for him, sure but you were there and you weren't going anywhere anytime soon. God had heard his drug induced prayers of stupor. 

Now it was all about waiting. Waiting for the right moment to dive in and recapture you within him and he’d be right back to drinking you in at every chance he had. He’d do it differently this time, do it right so you’d cling to him and wonder why you ever wanted to leave at all. Make you wonder why you were so stupid to have been so stubborn when everything you could ever need was in the palm of your hand. He was sure of it. That strong, bullheaded expression would blitz is something vulnerable in his hands. A lurch of excitement riveted under his skin among the nerves. 

For now, he waits, and watches. Your presence could never go unnoticed by his dark eyes. 

It’s unfortunate for him that Thanos takes a notice to you, too. It’s hard not to, really, when every time he follows Nam-gyu’s locked line of sight it always leads back to you- this little sweet thing perched up at the peak of the bunks alongside the back, watching the room with this bored stare between mundane yapping with other players. 

“Someone you know?” Thanos’s voice had this subtle drip to it, this underlining excitement that Nam-gyu picks up on almost instantly. His expression stays cool, mostly uninterested despite the way he can’t seem to pry his eyes away from you even as he answers.

“Yeah.”

“Who is she?”

And then he’s stuck. Because his mouth opens for a split second to say, my ex, but he can’t quite say that, now can he? But he also can’t say an old friend either, because you simply weren’t. What you two had was something else entirely- a new plane he struggled to navigate, lovely when things were good, a hellscape when they weren't. The lines were always so blurred, fuzzy with sex and warm laughter.

He decides on something mostly true. “Someone I used to hang out with.”

“Girlfriend?” Thanos’s brow raises with his chirp, leaning forward with clear interest. 

“No.” It comes out quick- too quick, and too heavy. Tinged venom with more baggage than even he could handle at times. Thanos catches it on impact and whistles. 

“I see. So you won’t care if I go chat her up? Hm?” 

“Don’t bother. She’s not like that.” Nam-gyu’s scoffs before he can stop himself, this unsettling seed of jealousy planting itself in his chest. 

“Hm… I guess we’ll see, huh?”

You’re dismounting from your bed and climbing onto the stairs when Thanos jumps to his feet, and Nam-gyu can already feel that itchy panic starting to blotch away at his skin. His hands, his cheeks. That seed takes its place within him bearing vicious roots. 

“Man, don’t bother,” He’s touching at Thanos’s sleeve, his shoulder, anywhere he can to try and gather his friend’s attention. “She can be kind of a bi-”

All it takes is a swat to Nam-gyu’s chest to stop him dead in his tracks, words dying his throat. Shut down, watching his friend take quick steps to you, Nam-gyu following close behind to witness.  If only he could be firmer, never demanding, always suggesting. Always rolling over and showing his soft underbelly at Thanos’s whim. Instead, he lets his lips press into a tight line and let’s it all happen right before him. 

You’re on the bottom step and taking a seat, and you see the rapper approaching before he gets a word in, but your eyes skip over him entirely and settle onto Nam-gyu’s. Distress is building in his muscles, but he’s making damn sure to keep himself in check. 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone? You want a friend?”

Up closer now, sharing your space, he sees all the things he’d been missing so deeply throughout the years. You still look just as he remembered- still bearing this expression of bemused coolness, still having these all seeing eyes that seemed to cut right through him. 

“A friend?” you hum, and your voice threatens to pull him in like gravity. “You wanna be my friend?”

If jealousy could sprout through his skin, it’d be an ugly beast of horns and claws. But it can’t, so instead, it takes shape in the way Nam-gyu’s eyes are flicking between yours and the rappers, hands wrapped up in his sleeves. 

“Stick with me, yeah? I promise to keep you safe. My number one priority.” And Thanos is patting his chest, flashing those painted nails. Makes Nam-gyu’s chest tighten, his stomach growing sicker by the second. 

Damn, you can see it, too. There’s no denying the way he’s cringing behind that distant smirk, and he doesn’t think to hide the way he’s twisting his rings on his fingers. When you click your tongue, he knows what's coming. 

“Stick with you, hm… Sorry, but I try to work alone. Partner’s tend to, how do I say…” Those eyes of your slice through him all over again, honing into him when you finish your sentence. “Disappoint me.”

Fuck. Disappointment. Oh god, how that sears into Nam-gyu’s skin. The way you look the rapper up and down, visually sizing him up, would make his heart leap into his throat if he were under that same scrutiny. He never understood how you could always be this intense with such a sweet, sweet face. Kindness was certainly a luxury and he missed it, that never ending fire that kept him warm.

“I can change that for you,” Thanos sings.  “I’m a legend here for a reason.”

“Legend? I’ve never heard of you.” Your brows raise in amusement. 

“You will. Thanos.” He puffs his chest out and nods, a half cocked grin playing over his lips. “Guy’s like me, we don’t disappoint.”

The man actually finds the nerve to reach down and pluck your hand, bringing his knuckles to his lips. Nam-gyu feels red hot scorching through his face but he’s locked in place, watching it like a car crash. Relieved when you yank your hand free and shove it into your jacket’s pocket. It’s the only good thing out of this entire interaction, he finds, especially so when Thanos’s smirk falters into a tight surprised line. 

“Don’t go and do all that. Guy’s like you will always disappoint me.” You lean back against the wall of the step, vexation evident over your features. “How about you talk to me again after the next game, yeah? Maybe I’ll feel different. Thanos.”

You always were so good at slamming the door in people's faces, always brought Nam-gyu joy to witness you shut down the advances of some poor loser trying to gain your affections. Thanos knows he’s been hung out in the cold, too. Barking up the wrong tree in the wrong neighborhood in the wrong country. So, he takes a loose step backwards and shrugs. 

“Your loss.” He sighs, and Nam-gyu follows him all the way back to his bunk in brooding silence. 

Wringing his fingers, he can’t help himself when casts a glance over his shoulder to find you one last time before you’re obscured behind metal frames and moving bodies. When he does, he feels a rush of heat in his cheeks when you’re already stuck fast staring right back, watching him go. He’s silent when he sits down at his little corner of the dormitory, silent when Gyeong-su is harping praises at Thanos. Silent, even, when Thanos says he’s determined to bring you to his side of the map. 

However, he noticeably tenses when Thanos mutters, “What a babe, huh? I should go visit her after lights out.”

Almost immediately there’s hands on his shoulders, pushing and nudging him, demanding his attention. The deepest of sighs leaves the rapper, ducking his head to find Nam-gyu’s eyeline. 

“Come on, man. Don’t be pissed, it’s in my nature, boy. Be honest. You into her?”

“Me and her…” Nam-gyu swallows. “We used to mess around.”

“Lucky you.” Thanos’s is shoving Nam-gyu’s shoulders again. “You cut her lose?”

No, she cut me loose. But Nam-gyu can’t bring himself to say that, the words lost and barred at the tip of his tongue. In the silence, Thanos takes it as confirmation. 

“That’s so cold. If I had her, I’d never let her out of my sight. Sheesh.”

Nam-gyu can’t even form words at all, anymore, irritation and envy wrapping tendrils around his throat and snuffing him out. Your earlier words spin through his brain like a carousel- come find me after the next game. Were you being serious? Were you just saying that to mess with him? He knows you- he knows your tone better than he even realizes, but he suddenly can’t decipher what’s honesty and what isn’t anymore. Jealousy blinds him, thick lenses leading him in all sorts of binds. 

He should have talked to you. He should have made the first move and made sure the first time he was breathing your air was alone. Now he’s anxious, he’s resentful, and he’s humiliated for some reason he can’t quite place. It doesn't help when he can’t resist the urge to look at you one last time, just one for the road, and you’re chatting idly with a man lounging on the other side of the steps you’re currently sitting on. There’s a five foot gap between your bodies but Nam-gyu doesn’t care- the anger that rips through him is blind, you may as well have been fucking the man right in front of him. 

It’s all he can see, tunnel vision encompassing him all the way until the moment lines start to form for lunch. Stewing in his jealousy, a bitter taste blooming over his tongue, he doesn’t jump in line because he’s got an appetite, but simply because you were rather eager to fill your belly. He tails you, matches every step and still has to jump out in front of a random player from taking the spot directly behind you. 

You notice him with a fleeting look tossed over your shoulder, eyes darting from the corners of your eyes and then forward, still as a statue. Desperate to not interact. 

Nam-gyu can’t help himself.

“You into Thanos?”

You audibly laugh at him, and the sound makes him shred the inside of his cheek.

“Maybe. What’s it to you?”

Everything. It’s everything to me. 

You look up at him over your shoulder, watching him through your thick lashes with scorn written all over those beautiful irises. There’s a flash image of you- a memory, tangled between the bedsheets, looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes and tear stained cheeks with his hand wrapped around your throat. It’s quick but it hits him like a sucker punch right to the gut. He sucks in a sharp breath. He wants to touch you- he almost does, but the line moves forward a beat and you’re moving with it away from his hesitating fingers. 

“I’m just asking.” He’s trying to be coy, but you can see right through him. 

“You worried, Nam-gyu?” 

That hits him like a sucker punch too. He’d forgotten how his name sounded on your tongue, how it rolled off so perfect and pretty even when you were pissed at him. Sometimes specifically when you were pissed at him, this bubbling anticipation running through him in waves, your passion always the spark lighting the fire in his belly. 

“I’m not worried.”

“You are.” Clocked him, again. Peered into the windows of him and saw that angry ocean of spite and regret behind his eyes. “I know you are. I can see it on you.”

“Not worried.” Nam-gyu shrugs, but he can’t meet your eyes anymore. 

Another sigh ghosts from your lips, but it’s quieter, defeated, almost. 

“I’m not interested in your friend. I’m not interested in anyone.”

And then, he says it. Quietly, as if he doesn’t want you to truly hear.

“...You seemed interested.”

“So you are worried.” You’re crossing your arms and he stares down into your hair, shoving his hands into his pockets. “What if I was? You clearly had nothing to say about it. You were right there- you didn’t tell him we had history? Or did I mean that little to you?”

You’re mad. Holy shit, you’re still so mad at him. But then his brain scrambles to tell him the good side of things- anger is not indifference. So in some ways, maybe more than others, he’s still in that little dome of yours ratting around amongst your thoughts. Means that if he does this right, it would mean something to you to be better this time. 

His lips press into a tight line. He should have talked to you, and now it’s biting him in the ass. It seemed like everything always bit him in the end. And he always let it happen, watched and never interfered. You drive the nail you’d plunged into him even deeper when you throw his words, from all those years ago, right back in his face. That last thing he had said to you before you, or the idea of you, had become a black hole.

“You know what, Nam-gyu? What was it you had said? Oh- uh, why don’t you focus on yourself and I’ll focus on me, yeah?”

It stings. It stings so bad that he physically recoils from the sound of his voice on your tongue, words spilling that just don’t seem right coming from you. Bitter resentment rises in his throat, this reflexive coping mechanism to bite back overtaking his senses. He wants to say I shouldn’t have said that. He wants to say, hear me out. But what ends up leaving him is just as ugly as the rest of his feelings. 

“Jesus. You’re still a bitch.”

The very instance those words tumble from him, he’s already regretting it with every fiber of his being. Even more so when you pluck your bento box from the guard and spin on your heels to glare absolute daggers into the very pits of his soul.

“Get over yourself. I’m glad we had this talk, it was very refreshing.”

This time he does jump to stop you, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. “Just listen-”

“No.” 

He doesn’t hide the way he watches you scamper off to your little ledge, hopping up onto your bed and enjoying your vantage point above all else, focusing on your meal. The man you’d been chatting with earlier is in the bed next to yours and that’s just fucking great. The guard has to pry his stare off of you, and a bento box is practically shoved into his chest, urging him out of line. 

Nam-gyu hates the stone anchoring in his guts. Almost as much as he hates how his appetite never quite returned. All food tasted the same when you left, nothing compared to what you’d used to make him. 

The bento box was no different. 

That night, sleep avoided him. There was something keeping him awake- buzzing under his skin no matter how many times he’d rolled over and shifted himself into a new position. Of course he knew what it was- it never really left him, after all. The fact of knowing you were across the room, all alone in your bed, was this incessant knock in the back of his skull tapping him back into reality whenever he found himself comfortable enough to doze off. His mind was stuck on you, as always, wondering what you looked like right now. 

Did you sleep the same as before? Laying on your side, hair messed over the sides of your face and splayed over the pillow, those heavy lashes of yours kissing along the bone of your cheeks. He always told himself that it was you who was attached, that he was some great being and you simply touched the stars through him. How wrong he had been to think that, when the entire time he’d fit so perfectly against you, he a piece to your puzzle. 

How wrong he had been, because when he’s staring up idly at the ceiling, he thinks of the better days in his life. Always, always, it was you. Thinking of you sitting pretty in his passenger seat, watching out the window as the world blurred by in rushes. The wind blowing through your hair, your necklace catching the glint of the sun. You’d feel his eyes on you and you'd turn and smile at him so darling, so lovely, that he thought it could heal. Remembering when you’d walk into a room, shining like a beacon just for him. You’d find his lap, find his hair, find his lips against your own and you’d cry his name like a prayer. 

He was an idiot to have thought he was the something in the nothing- it was you. 

Even when he finally drifted off into sleep were you still infecting the very membrane of his mind. In his dreams, you were just as warm as you had always been. Bated breaths, hanging onto every word that left his lips, fingers that longed to touch and stroke and feel. His heart slowed to a peaceful beat, and his body curled into his pillow and blanket, trying to recreate the shape of you in his arms. For a time that evening, it worked. 

But then he woke up, and Thanos was leaning over his bed asking him if he was dead, and all those wonderful moments he’d relived were gone in a rush of bright lights and endless chatter bouncing off the walls of the dormitory. Like an addiction, the first thing he thought of when he sat up, was you. Thought about you all the way through the winding staircases and into a giant room with rainbow’s painted over the hard floor. So lost in thought that he almost misses it when the speaker starts instructing them- a 5 player minigame race. 

Teams of five. Okay, he could do that. Easy. Gyeong-su, him, Thanos. That was already three. 

It’s natural instinct when he starts to search for you in the bubble of people, his fourth member, even though he’s more than sure you’re all too excited to send him packing. The way you had looked at him at dinner the day before, he wasn’t sure if you’d even entertain a conversation with him at all, let alone join their team. But this is beyond an argument- beyond him trying and failing to lull you in, this is life and death. 

“Hey, there’s your girl again.” Thanos spots you first. He follows Thanos’s line of sight and sure enough, there you are, standing with your hands shoved into your pockets with this far away expression he can’t quite read. 

His girl. It would make him shiver, if he wasn’t already on the brink of tweaking. 

“Let’s go see if she’s changed her mind.” 

Thanos is running his hands through his hair and popping the collar of his tracksuit, a particular bounce to his step when he bounds right for you. Just as the first time, always on the lookout for yourself, you spot him coming before he gets to you. Already you’re annoyed.

By the time Nam-gyu slithers up beside him, you’re already turning Thanos’s first wave of advancements down, a snark to your tone and a glint in your eyes. 

“I’m good, thanks though.”

Thanos blinks, looks left and then right. “You’re good? I don’t see a team?”

“I’ll find one.”

“You got one right here,” He pats his chest again, before he slings his arm over Nam-gyu’s shoulder haphazardly. “Come on. You’ll be safe.”

The intensity in which you roll your eyes is fierce- an expression Nam-gyu really had only thought he could draw out of you. To make matters worse for his friend, you don’t even bother with saying no again. Instead you merely wave a dismissive hand and turn on your heels, meandering into the crowd. 

“You were right, Nam-su.” Thanos’s face drops and he unwinds his arm from Nam-gyu’s shoulder. “Not getting anywhere with that one.”

Nam-gyu is so focused watching you, that all he murmurs is, “It’s Nam-gyu.”

“Yeah. Nam-su, Nam-gyu. Look over there.” He has to force himself to look away, following Thanos’s point in the other direction you’d gone. A girl with short black hair stands off to the side, eyes traveling and sizing up all her potential team mates. Thanos pops his collar again, a hound dog chasing a brand new scent. “Let’s go see what she’s up to.”

For the first time, Nam-gyu doesn’t follow him. He says, you go, you go, and lets Thanos wind himself up all on his own before watching him go. He’s much more concerned with you and your team, this sense of anxiety starting to bud in his gut. 

He finds you like a moth to flame. Your shoulders slump at the sight of him, tired and irked. 

“Not this again.” You groan. “What, do you think you’re gonna come sweeten me up and I’ll say yes? I’m not playing on your damn team.”

Nam-gyu shakes his head and steps in front of you when you try to turn away again. His nerves are on the rise, and so is his temper. You draw it out of him like nothing else, he can’t stop himself. 

“Why not?” He asks, looking down at you with furrowed brows. You cross your arms, barring yourself from him. 

“Because I’m not.”

“This is no time to be stubborn. You don’t know what the next game is. You might need guys on your team.”

“I plan on it. There’s other men here other than you and whatever the hell his name is.”

Other men. Nam-gyu’s mouth dries up, his fingers already wringing in his sleeves. His jaw tenses with his temper, teeth grinding. 

You didn’t need other men, not when he would do anything under the sun to keep you safe. Anyone else may just let you die. Can’t you see that? 

“Why are you being-... Being like-...” He stops himself. Holy shit, his brain actually fires off the warning shot and he stops dead in his tracks staring at you in bewilderment. You adopt this expectant glare, a spiteful uptick to your lips that darkens your eyes. 

“Say it.” You sneer. “Go ahead, say it. I’m being a bitch, right?”

The word fights against his lips to get out. You’re waiting for it, at the edge of your seat, fully ready to take it in and chew it up and spit it out right back at him. But he bites it back and he swallows it down into his chest because this means something to him. Because it might mean something to you. 

“Being like this.” He stammers. “I’m trying to keep you alive.”

Your eyes widen just a fraction. “Keep me alive?”

“Can you really trust anyone here? You know me.”

“I do know you.” A flash of something provoked and somber rivets within your eyes. Anger mounting, your heart colliding with your brain in real time right before him. “That’s exactly why I won’t be on your side.”

If he’d had his foot in the door before, you were properly shoving it back outside. He doesn't know what to do, so he does the first thing he can think of as a creature of impulse, and unfortunately when it came to you that meant he was all hands. 

“Wait-” He catches you just as you’re turning away, tries to bulldoze over your defiance and smooth out all the harsh edges of your protests with the broad flats of his palms. Fingers clutching your tracksuit at your shoulders and then he’s realizing that he’s touching you for the first time in years. Your skin from underneath your jacket is just as warm he remembers, your eyes are just as doe-like at his touch too. Stubborn and ornery but overflowing with passion and static energy that settled into his bones. He needs it, he needs it. The obsession of you hits him in waves of yearn. 

He needs you more than air, he thinks. 

“Get your hands off of me, right now.” But you aren’t tearing him away- so maybe that’s progress. 

“Come on.” He ducks his head, shoulders slumping, and it physically hurts him to feel this desperate. “Stay with me.”

Oh, you don’t like those words one bit. They hit your eardrums and your eyes narrow in slits, and then yeah, you’re reaching up and catching his wrists in his iron grip before ripping his paws off your jacket. It takes a long moment for you to speak, but when you do, he swears he can hear the devil amidst the heartache. 

“You know that I can’t stay with you. Never again.”

His hands twitch to touch you again- anything to keep you there for a moment longer. 

“Come on.” 

Sadness like pits swirl in your eyes, drags your lips into a frown. “You gotta’ stop Nam-gyu. I can’t do it.”

An awful, awful mass grows in his stomach when you turn your back on him. Gets bigger with every inch you build between you and him, threatens to take over entirely and swallow him whole right in the middle of that room. If it did, and he was to be gulped up by the void, perhaps he wouldn't have to feel like this any longer. And he wouldn’t have to watch you disappear behind all the moving bodies. 

He was weaker than he was three years ago. You made him weaker. Back then, if you’d been so sure of yourself he found it rather easy to deter you. A beastly way about him when he would have just ripped you by the hand and brought you over to his team and made you sit the hell down and just stay with him. Something possessive, something under his skin at the thought of you sharing the same air as anyone other than him. You used to be so malleable in his hands- but he knows, now more than ever, that that was truly never the case. You let yourself be pliable. You let yourself fall to him. He could never, not even now, make you do anything. Not really. 

That’s the part that burns him to the peaks of his soul. That strength about you. You’re so much stronger than him, with an energy iron so it’s like running headfirst into a wall when you’d no longer graced him with your softness. Such a double edged sword, that will of yours. That attitude and the passion made him feel alive. Cold and disposed after you’d properly slammed the gate right in his face. No leverage, no space for him in your heart any longer. 

It’s cold, Nam-gyu finds. Lonely without you. 

And then Thanos goes and invites some random girl with a poor attitude (that isn’t yours) and an even weaker buddy. He tries to tell him- remind his friend of the potential disadvantage but like always all it took was a dismissive wave to get him to screw his lips shut. Rolled over, tongue caught in his throat, weakened. 

He spends a majority of his time waiting for his teams turn arguing with Se-mi and tossing gazes over his shoulder to keep a very keen eye on you, only to find a sneer growing on his features after seeing you chatting with the same player as earlier, the man with the bed next to yours. Laughter and smiles roll from your lips as natural as breathing air, and he’s nudging you with his arm and you’re letting him with this expression of pure amusement. 

That should be him. 

That ugly face of betrayal peeks through the cracks all over again, with guilt and anger and regret following in tow close behind. Sitting on his shoulders like little devils, spinning and racing through his body in waves. If you saw his face- you’d never suspect it, but his hands shake in his lap. His jaw tenses so tightly his teeth could burst into powder. Squared shoulders and an endless drag to his lips. Something in the sight of you enjoying that guys presence is reminding him of all these shitty feelings he’d been faced with when you two were together- well, no, not together, he remembers- and then he’s even angrier. Angry at you, angry at that random ass player you were talking up, angry at himself for letting it get here in the first place. 

Thanos pops open his necklace beside him and draws a fun little pill from its contents, and Nam-gyu makes it a mission to get his hands on one of those sweet little pick-me-ups. The pill is bitter on his tongue but he swallows it down in delight. And it works, too, because the moment the colors start to glow and fuse together and all sounds become this echoing fishbowl of noises, you’re vacated from the corners of his fuzzy mind. For a time, he’s at peace all over again, lost in the blurry joy. 

By the time he comes down, he’s already back in the dormitory. 

Though it takes a moment for him to realize it, he’s taking inventory of all the surviving players. One by one, watching them fill the room and find their creaky beds or their little groups. Most were distraught, though some were particularly perturbed. It takes a couple teams before he understands that what he’s really looking for, naturally, is you. He’s always searching for you, even when he knew you weren’t searching for him back. 

That’s the change, and it dawns on him like a rapture. He’d never had to care before- you were always this constant in his life, something that would always bounce right back if he tossed you aside. He didn’t give a damn if it upset you, he didn’t give a damn if it ate away at you like termites through wood. But now he does, and he gives so many damn’s they’re driving him crazy. 

Any moment spent sober and lucid were moments entirely taken up by you.

Any moment now you’ll come strutting through those doors, head held high and gunning it to make sure Nam-gyu knew exactly how much you didn’t need him. 

But then ten teams turn into twenty, and twenty five into thirty. 

“How many teams were there?” Nam-gyu asks with a voice steadier than even he expected. Thanos doesn’t need to question anything, watching the doorway all the same. 

“Fifty-six.” Se-mi hums from her spot, leaning back against the steps. 

Thirty eventually turns to fifty. 

Too much time has passed, and you’ve still yet to pop out through that doorway. He double checks those who’d already shown their faces, hoping to find you through the cracks of them, but you’re simply not there. There’s a shovel digging pits and moats into his stomach. Another wave of players trickles in and he scans them all over the same, only to feel that hollowness inside him grow once more. They saunter to their beds, to their little groups, taking up space and taking up air that should belong to you. 

Where the hell were you?

“Only two teams left,” Thanos hums. “Where’s that girl of yours?”

Nam-gyu can’t force himself to answer this time around. So, instead, he presses his nails between his teeth and nervously shifts his weight from left to right. Though he shrugs, the anxiety within him was palpable, all lines and tension that he tried to bury with nonchalance. But it wasn’t working, and felt like he was being ripped apart from the inside out.

Mind racing, thoughts circling him like birds over fresh kill. The final team walks through the doorway, slow as zombies, shifty eyed and hurriedly rushing to their beds. His eyes sit on the door, waiting, waiting. 

No one comes through. 

His shoulders fall limp. 

You didn’t make it. 

“That’s a shame.” Se-mi sighs, the sound swimming in Nam-gyu’s ears. 

Loss, real loss was a foreign feeling within his chest. He’d seen it described in the movies, in songs, this soul eating all consuming weight that blanketed over bodies and crushed, but nothing could have ever prepared for the blistering moment it wrenches itself within the confines of his heart, within the deep ache of his bones. It didn’t settle properly in his throat- his body trying to force the alien ripple of dread stitching itself right between his ribs. It hurts- his lungs can’t take in air. His breath wheezes past his lips in shallow pants, unable to tear his eyes away, like at any moment you’ll suddenly materialize right before him. 

He presses his lip into a tight line and digs his nails into his palms, anything to release a fraction of the agony festering within his body. 

Brain on fire, shaking hands and the image of you dead in a thousand different flashes, a sting to his waterlines that has him scrambling to shove his fingers against the thin skin. 

Don’t fucking cry. Don’t fucking cry.

“Bad luck. Sorry, boy.”

All the skin on his body has flushed red and sticky. He ducks his head down towards his lap, desperate to hide within himself, even more desperate to hide this part of himself from the watchful eyes of his group. He should have just made you join them. Should have thrown you over his shoulder and wrapped an immovable grasp around your arm and held you hostage until everyone had a team and then you’d have no one else to turn to. No one else, nothing else except for him. 

He can’t even hear his friend’s counterfeit empathy over the swell of his heartbeat in his ears. His body is too heavy to hold up, his arms dragging as lead, his head even heavier on his shoulders. Uncanny urges to tear at the skin of his face overcome him and he has to bury them into his hair in release, roughly running his digits through the black locks, trying to breathe and breathe and breathe. A lump the size of a boulder burrows into his throat.

Cracking his eyes open to peek down at his lip, squeezing them shut when his vision is wet and blurry. His lower lip trembles until it’s caught in his teeth, biting hard into the skin. 

Don't fucking cry.

Why did you have to be so stubborn? If you’d have just let him take care of you this one fucking time, you would be alive right now. You should be alive right now- pissed and glaring fury in his direction but breathing and taking up space and existing-

“Ah, they made it. Here I thought they were all goners.”

Se-mi’s casual tone barely reaches him, but it’s got him frantically flicking his gaze back up to the archway, his hands falling from his face, trying to see through the blotches in his sight. A handful of players take soft steps into the room, all shaken up, all bewildered.

There you are. His racing heart stops entirely.

You’re sauntering into the dormitory like a wounded animal, all hands wringing out in front of you and lines drawn into your frown. For the first time, in Nam-gyu’s eyes, you look small. Frightened. Every step you take has a weight to it he’s never witnessed you bear. And even from across the room, even with rigid tears trapped in the corners of his eyes, he can see the grip of fear on the flat of your throat. 

All those jumping thoughts settle into a tunnel vision, you at the epicenter of his quaking nerves simmering down into stillness. He forgets how his chest had twisted as if a knife had been planted between his collarbones, and he forgets how he had almost lost his lunch right there on the floor. All because you’re standing there in the middle of the room hugging yourself, white as a ghost, even paler when you lift your head up and see the way Nam-gyu is trapped in your line of sight. 

Nam-gyu see’s it. No hate, no dejection. 

Relief- this instant where your widened eyes soften, your frown lifts into a slack-jawed breath of solace. It rocks his world when it hits him and it lights a flame so hot under his skin it’s burning through his veins. All the air trapped in his lungs leaves him at once and he can pinpoint the exact moment all the tensions in his shoulders and back melt away in nothingness. The tears dry, his lower lip released from his gnashing teeth.

The man you’d joined earlier pats your shoulder and offers you a pathetic, wavering thumbs up. You can’t seem to return his dull enthusiasm. In fact, you look worse than Nam-gyu’s seen you thus far. Changed, all wires sticking exposed and sparking. There’s this lifelessness to your body when you climb up the stairs and have to heave yourself up into your bed, crossing your legs and resting your chin on your palms propped up over your knees. 

When your eyes meet his, he expects some sort of sign of contempt, or perhaps maybe you’d refuse to meet his gaze entirely. Instead, for the first time since you’d arrived, you find him first. 

You offer him a pitiful open palmed wave. 

The pearly gates crack open and Nam-gyu feels it again- warmth. Even just a little bit, like lighting a match in a snowstorm, huddling around the flame. He half cocks a smile, and he waves back. 

--

Lunch came quicker than he’d anticipated, and much to Nam-gyu’s dismay, you weren’t exactly thrilled to hop into line. In fact, ever since you’d let him jam his fingers back into your closing door, you’d hardly acknowledged anything other than your lap. Even more so upsetting, that player you hung around tapped your mattress to gather your attention, pointing to the line, sighing in defeat when you’d shook your head. 

Jealousy seeps into his wounds all over again, quiet, but equally as simmering. Don’t act like you know her. Little devils tapping away at his psyche. She doesn't need you to check up on her.

But then again, he realizes, maybe you do. 

His mouth dries when the sound of his thoughts footsteps come running up on him. His greed. His innate ability to leave you unchecked and grappling. That was among the sea of problems Nam-gyu had been struggling to grasp. Here he was, trying to drag you back into the tar pits of his hold and he hadn’t even tried the basics of kindness. The step one of it all. Always taking, taking, taking and demanding more at every swipe. Always expecting, never building. 

So he jumps into line before he can second guess himself, and he takes his bento box with a grateful nod and he doesn’t waste a second before he’s chasing the trail of you to your bed. From your high point, perched and unmoving, all he can do is climb the stairs and rest his hands over the corner of your mattress. Your far away gaze lifts from your lap and settles down to him. 

The air is different. The landscape of you has changed. 

“What is it.” Your tone is uncannily flat, but it’s void of its bite, its drive. 

“Can I come up?” 

It’s a simple request, but it leaves a shake at the end of his sentence. It’s only natural when he mentally prepares himself for you to slap no onto his forehead, but you scoot over, and he takes the spot so quickly you wouldn’t even have the chance to say no if you thought about it too much. He hoists himself up and over, fills the gap at your side, just as he should have done days ago. He sits the bento box at the crest of your lap.

“What’s this?” Blinking down at the food, you make no effort to pick it up. 

“Fish and rice.” Nam-gyu shrugs. “Looks like an egg, too.” 

“I can see that. I meant, what are you doing giving me this?”

“...You didn’t get anything.”

As your fingers gingerly touch the container, eyes scanning over the contents, Nam-gyu feels he can breathe easier. This is a win for him- you aren’t fighting him anymore. Still on the edge, always ready to run, but the look in your eyes isn’t pure hatred or outright hurt. A swell of pride overcomes him when you pluck the chopstick and murmur, thank you. 

You’re pliable. Now, more than ever. 

You eat in silence. He lets you eat in silence, even though peace isn’t exactly one of his virtues.  Partly because he doesn’t know what to say to you, but mostly because he’s got this innate fear that he’s going to say something shitty and you’re going to hate him all over again for it. A million words are always shoving and pushing against his lips and he fumbles with navigating them. So, silence, it is. 

But it doesn’t bother him. Silence meant that you were simply just there, existing, the one thing he had longed for over the years. He knew, deep in his heart, he’d fucked up when he began to miss the very presence of you. No sex, no drugs, no push or pull, just you. And now he gets to take whatever you’ll give in micro doses, greedy and starved for you. Fighting the urge to pull you into himself where you could never climb out. He refrains- he forces himself to just be there. 

No longer could he be the creature he had been all those years ago. He had to be different- not all rough edges and clawing hands, ripping and taking. Or dark eyes watching your every move, or jagged words cutting your flesh with the highs and lows of his tone. Something better, this time. Something for you. 

Tomorrow would be a new beast entirely. And, in less than a few hours, the lights would flicker off and bask the dormitory into hues of red and blues. You would lay alone in your all-too-large bed and he would sink into his mattress drugged out of his mind thinking countless thoughts of you, you, you. The distance would feel like miles- he needed you right there, right then, always. Anything other than what he had sitting beside you was a vast ocean. 

The bento box appears in front of his lap, half eaten.

“You’re not going to eat it?” Nam-gyu’s brows knit.

“You should eat, too. What, scared of my germs now?” You murmur, and when he meets your eyeline, he sees something familiar in those hues. Something nurturing, sweet. Tender. 

Nam-gyu picks up the chopsticks, and he eats.  For the first time in years, his food tastes like food.

[cryptcombat]

I survived the presentation and it went alright!!!!

[lovelytsunoda]

dancing in the dark | mick schumacher

summary: after her team gets totally ripped apart in court, yn returns home and changes into some comfy clothes, content to lounge on the couch for the rest of the evening. however, that flannel shirt drives mick crazy, and he has other plans

pairing: mick schumacher x law clerk!girlfriend! reader

warnings: 18+ content, cutesy smut, (seriously this smut should feel horny and like a warm hug at the same time), mick says some funny things. the lawyer referenced is mickey haller from 'the lincoln lawyer' because i fucking said so. (i literally just realized what i've done giving her boss and her lover the same name lmao i dont know any other tv lawyers so this stands and im making it part of the plot) it’s actually shorter and a lil less graphic than originally intended dont shot the messenger

court was rarely ever pretty, but usually yn could leave a courtroom feeling like she did the best she could.

not today. she was shaky as she left the courtroom, even after mickey haller, the lawyer that she worked for, assured her that she'd done nothing wrong.

"that was my mistake, not yours." he had insisted. "everything you put in that document i told you to. lorna and i checked it three times before i filed it."

of course, that did nothing to make her feel better as she drove back home, taking the rest of the afternoon off. mickey had insisted, which usually meant he had something to work on that he didn't want any help on.

when she pulled into her driveway, she dragged herself out of the small car, and into her empty house. mick was still out, presumably with the dog. he had training this morning, and then a meeting in the afternoon, so he had likely taken angie to his mothers.

still feeling off, she stripped out of her court clothes, donning her fuzzy socks and a plaid flannel top. she let her hair down from its tight bun, gently massaging her scalp before heading to the kitchen to make a mug of hot chocolate.

the file was still in her bag, along with a red-marked copy of the form that had been misfiled. the entire trial had to be postponed, so the haller camp was likely the most hated set of people in that courtroom.

she turned the kitchen radio on, a habit she had picked up from her grandparents. her grandfather loved seventies music, so there was always some don mclean or dolly parton playing in his house when she grew up. she herself preferred the eighties: inxs, springsteen, blondie, benatar.

she heard the front door open, followed by the sound of mick's duffel bag hitting the floor. she listened to his footsteps, and it was soon enough that she felt his arms wrapping around her waist.

"i thought you were in court today?" he mumbled, kissing her shoulder softly. she could smell his cologne, a musky and earthy scent. something inexpensive, for he saved the dior for special occasions.

"we got absolutely destroyed this morning over a misfield document with the courts, so mickey sent us all home to regroup."

truth be told, it was days like this one that had yn questioning why she'd even started this job in the first place. lately she'd had more bad days than good ones, but lorna had assured her that it would pass.

"you know what the great thing about being alive is?" mick said softly, taking her by the hand and gently spinning her to face him. "you can always try again tomorrow. nine times out of ten, there is always a second chance."

"i know you're right. i just feel guilty since i was the one who drafted the document." it didn't matter that mickey checked it and lorna filed it. she was the one who drafted it, so the error was hers.

"your lawyer checked it over, right? and he didn't see anything wrong with it?"

"yeah but-"

'no buts. i refuse to see my brilliant girlfriend be down on herself for something that isn't her fault."

she was about to protest again when mick swayed their bodies into a dance, slightly out of tune with the springsteen song that was playing from the corner. 'dancing in the dark'. it was their song. she smiled despite herself, laughing along and joining in with the dance. mick twirled her around the kitchen twice before hooking his hands under her thighs and lifting her into the air. she laughed in surprise, gripping his shoulder as he carried her over to the couch.

she giggled as he dropped her onto the couch, climbing over her and planting himself between her thighs. mick leaned in to kiss her, his lips soft against hers. she smiled into the kiss, exhaling softly as she unconsciously bucked against his crotch.

“you know this shirt drives me crazy, right?”

“this one?” she pursed her lips. “it’s almost a decade old. it’s the oldest shirt in my closet.”

mick grinned, strands of blonde hair falling into his eyes as he nuzzled his cold nose into the skin between her boobs. “you’re like a sexy lumberjack.”

she laughed as mick kissed over the flannel on her shirt, slowly making his way down to her exposed hip where the shirt had ridden up when he placed her on the couch. "what does that even mean?"

he pressed his nose against hers, her slender legs wrapping around his toned body. "hey, pretty girl. what can i do? how can i make you feel better?"

"mhm, i think i have an idea." she smiled shyly, running a finger down his chest.

"does it involve you screaming my name in pleasure?"

"why yes, i think it does."

laughing, mick kissed her again, gently nipping at her lip before he pulled her into his arms, her legs securely wrapped around his torso. he carried her to their shared bedroom, placing her at the edge of the bed before sinking to his knees on the plush carpet.

he pulled his white t-shirt over his head, discarding it somewhere across the room as he lifted her legs over his shoulders, gently kissing up and down the expanse of her leg.

the sight of mick between her legs never failed to give her butterflies. he never hesitated to get on his knees for her, no matter how sore they may be in the morning. she never even had to ask. mick always seemed to know just what she needed.

her chest was filled with love as mick kissed, licked and sucked his way across her inner thigh. he was her sweet boy, her love. mick thought that she was an angel on earth, and had even made the cheesy 'did it hurt when you fell from heaven' joke the first night that they spent together.

he tongued at her wet core through the black cotton of her panties, eliciting a gentle gasp from the woman above him.

"you liked that, sweet girl? did that feel good?"

"yeah." she breathed, shifting on the bed, arousal jolting through her body. "i want you, mickie."

"it's so weird that you call me that when the guy you work for is also named mickey."

"it's spelt different."

"same difference." he laughed, pinching her thigh gently.

"i guarantee you that i'm not thinking about my boss right now, mick."

mick laughed, his warm hands traversing her thighs, up to her ass, and pulling her closer to his face. "raise your hips, honey pie. let's get those pesky panties off of you."

across from her, a large round mirror sat on top of the white ikea dresser, and she couldn't decide what was more erotic: the reflection of her blushing, panting face and the back of mick's head between her thighs, or looking down and seeing the look of lust and adoration in mick's eyes as he slid her calvins down her legs.

making eye contact with her lover, she teasingly began to undo the buttons on her flannel, letting the fabric fall away and expose her naked curved body to the man on his knees in front of her.

“you fucking undo me, baby.” mick said, voice husky as he visibly held back a moan. “so pretty just for me. I don’t deserve it.”

he gently ran a hand up and down her thigh as she used her legs to draw him closer to her core, the heat radiating off her skin and warming his.

he kissed her core gently, smiling at the soft sigh he drew from his lover before he began to lick at her slit, juices running down his tongue and around his lips.

“holy fuck.” she exhaled, throwing her head back.

if she looked in the mirror, she’d be able to see micks shoulder blades rippling under his skin every time he pushed himself closer to where she needed him most.

“yeah, you needed this, didn’t you? needed me to help you feel better? that’s what I’m here for baby, you don’t even gotta ask.”

there was reverence contained in every lick, every nuzzle. every time his nose bumped her clit. every gasp and moan she let out spurred him on, encouraging him further as he continued to make out with her pussy.

“fucking hell, mick. that feels so good.” she moaned, rutting against his lips. “oh, god!”

“atta girl.” mick encouraged, snaking his arms around her waist. “just use me to feel good, baby.”

she was flush against his face now, practically grinding herself against his tongue. she chanced a look down, moaning at the look of sheer lust in micks eyes as he met hers, his long pink tongue licking at her opening, face practically covered in her juices.

“mick, oh my god!” she squealed, thighs closing in around his face, fingers twisted up in the duvet as she tried to stay upright.

she came with a scream, arms threatening to give out beneath her as mick continued to work her to the edge, never giving up his relentless pace

“that’s my girl. come on, give it to me. I know you can, pretty girl. I know you can do it.”

she slumped backwards, allowing the duvet to pillow around her as she felt her legs go week. her hands moved to ruffle micks hair, a lazy smile on her face. he continued to kiss her thighs as she lay there to recover, listening for every breath, every soft sigh.

“how’re you feeling?” his voice was soft as he crept up the bed, gently hovering over her body. he laced one hand with hers, his nose running along her cheek.

“absolutely fantastic. you always know how to make me feel good.”

when he kissed her, she could taste traces of herself on his lips. in the beginning, she’d felt so awkward about tasting it. now? now it just served as another reminder of how much mick loved her. a reminder that he enjoyed pleasuring her.

“can you taste how sweet you are?” he hummed, kissing her softly again. “just like heaven, princess.”

“oh yeah?”

“yeah, pretty girl. I’m pretty sure heaven is right between those thighs of yours.” there was a sparkle in his blue eyes, and a cheeky grin on his lips. “you know, you’re more than just pretty. you’re fucking smart too. I wish I could be half as smart as you are. do you think that if I slipped my cock into you right now, I could absorb some of that knowledge like through osmosis or whatever?”

she grinned stupidly at the sheer absurdity of the question. once you got him in the bedroom, mick schumacher had no filter whatsoever.

“wanna try it and find out?”

mick drew back, undoing the top button on his levis while she sat up just enough to toss her flannel aside and move up the bed. she slipped a small throw pillow underneath her hips when the lay back down, sweaty hair brushed behind her ears. mick clambered up the bed to join her, large hands reaching to the knob on the bedside drawer for a condom.

he slid inside her with ease, buried to the hilt as he kissed her forehead gently. she squirmed underneath him, gently rutting her hips into his.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

his thrusts were gentle, yet still deep as he drew one of her legs up and around his waist, her arms coming to link around his neck as she pulled him close. he was a gentle lover, a passionate one. he believed in taking his time to make his partner feel good.

“my god, babe, you feel so fucking good. so good for me.” he groaned down her ear, teeth nipping at her earlobe. “taking my cock so well.”

hands on his shoulders, she could feel his muscles rippling and undulating under her dainty hands, french nails leaving small scratches along his tanned skin.

“oh, just like that.”

the pace was slow and comforting, sensual and erotic as mick somehow managed to make every thrust feel like his cock was going deeper, deeper, deeper.

“eyes on me, honey pie. I wanna see that pretty face of yours.” mick encouraged, seeing her eyes screwed shut in pleasure, cheek resting against the pillow. “where’s my sexy model girlfriend?”

a smile crossed her features, a moan escaping her throat as mick brushed against her spongy walls. she turned her head slightly, staring right up at his goofy smile and sweaty face.

he leaned down to kiss her, moaning into her mouth before slipping his tongue in and touching it against hers.

his hands travelled up and down her body, over all of her curves. over her breasts and rolling her nipples between his fingers.

“you’re so pretty.” he whispered, kissing her softly. “I love you.”

“mick,” she moaned softly. “faster.”

he smirked, snapping his hips quickly against hers. “how’s this, baby? you close?”

“yeah.” she whined. “think so.”

she curled her legs tighter around him, trying to pull mick closer and closer to her, trying to take him deeper and deeper. his breath was heavy on her neck as he left open mouthed kisses in his wake. one of his hands came down and over her waist, thumb rubbing gently at her sensitive clit. she moaned out a small curse, nails digging into his back.

“please.” she panted “don’t stop.”

his free hand desperately clenched around the sage green duvet, his grip white-knuckled. her walls contracted around his cock, causing his eyes to roll into the back of his head. he swore in german, his hips faltering as he tried to keep his composure.

“give it to me baby, come on, I know you can. keep taking my cock. fucking shit, baby, I’m not gonna last.”

“mick!” she screamed, back arching, skin pressing against his, walls contracting around his thick dick.

her nails were digging into his back, her face flushed and facing away from him as she came. at this angle, he was happy to lean over and press gentle kisses to her face, softly whispering praise and encouragement as he continued to work himself to the edge.

his hips stuttered, cock twitching as he spilled into the condom, body shaking as he lowered himself to rest beside his lover. he had yet to pull out, their legs still locked together. her skin was warm as he pulled her into his arms, swollen lips leaving kisses against her sweaty hair and her fingertips drew shapes against the bare skin of his chest.

out in the kitchen, he could faintly hear the radio. it had long since changed from springsteen, now playing the dulcet tones of paul hewson and u2.

he knew he should get up. he at least needed to take the condom off. maybe pull a blanket over their bodies.

but having her in his arms was a type of heaven within itself. her scent overwhelming his senses, her touch comforting over his flushed skin.

he needed her beside him like he needed oxygen to breathe.

“mick,” she mumbled, head still resting against his chest. “I need to go to the bathroom, and you’ve still got most of your lower body weight on me.”

he grinned sheepishly as he disentangled himself from her, watching from the bed as she strode to the closet, pulling a silken robe around her lithe frame.

he was so in love. he hoped this would be his forever.

[cantgetworsethanthistbh]

Ford is Not used to being dependant on someone as an adult - especially since Stan isn't dependant on him At All in return. It's gotta be doing weird things to his neurons, he would probably sit like a dog if Stan told him to, he is pathetic amounts of in love with him this is past partner in crime he's his hero, his guide, his Muse, his god, Ford is in a really weird headspace

OOOH i love this version of stancest sm. i know this is likely about the little ford au but i also just love this kind of stancest in regular sea grunkles and kills me. so much of stancest (and tbh just in their canon dynamic) is stan nipping at ford's feet and following ford's lead even their sea grunkles era. a lot of darker stancest always infers with ford being obssesive and controlling too and usually stan lets it, because hey thats their dynamic and its better than nothing.

but the opposite has SO much potentil. ford following stans lead. to think of ford realizing that he's way WAY out of his depth and that he needs stan way more than stan needs him now?? maybe he ALWAYS needed stan more than stan needs him?? after all, what did ford say about how stan wouldve been able to see through bill's tricks?? if they were together, the apocalypse wouldve never happened...

ford would think he's so lost now, lost without any purpose now that bill is defeated and he doesnt want the fame anymore either now that he knows his chase for it is what made him lose his brother, so he feels SO empty. except hes not. theres stan. stan whos strong, brilliant, charming and the most selfless hero ford would ever know.

ford wants to protect him so much but another day of stan saving his ass from a monster they were investigating (because he got too curious again) and ford thinks he could never EVER measure up to the way stan protects him, loves him, cherishes him and takes care of him. it makes ford feel awful, unworthy of this love after he promised he'd do anything to earn back that second chance stan too gracefully gave him. he can't fathom the idea of stan finally wisening up and leaving him even if its no less than he really deserves, because what else will he have anymore if he doesnt have his best friend, his hero, his true muse? it'll fester in his mind, growing and growing and growing, and he shoves it down deeper and deeper as much as he can.

but one night, one bottle and a million inhibitions thrown over the railing of the stan o war, he'll finally break when stan smiles at him while they sit on the deck, looking so happy when that makes no sense.

stan deserves the world, the entire galaxies, and ford can't give them to him at that very moment. he'll start crying, overwhelmed with how much he loves stan and how stan deserves the best— one ford has to grudgingly admit isnt him.

"woah, woah, sixer," stan interrupts worriedly, face falling. "what's wrong? come on, we arent even that drunk yet."

the joking tone makes ford feel worse, because how could stan stop smiling because of him and still try to make ford feel better? "i'm sorry," ford chokes. "stan, god, i'm so sorry."

"stanford," stan says placatingly. ford understands that stan understands too, that this isn't about the alcohol, or about crying out of nowhere. his hands cup ford's face, so large and warm, like a place where ford could hide his face forever with the depths os his shame and stan might even let him. that breaks ford even more. "hey come on, bro, s'okay..."

"don't leave me."

"i'm not leaving you, your big brain knows that."

you should, ford thinks but will never say, because he can't. "i can't lose you again," ford whispers with shaky breath. "i w-wouldn't know what to do with myself—"

"ford—"

"— because you're so brilliant, and brave, and good—"

"— i guess but—"

"—you're so good stan," ford interrupts whatever faux preening stan was going to do. his brother doesnt believe him, and ford practically crawls into his space.

"you are so, so good. you are so good and you don't even realize, i—" ford's breath hitches. "i don't even know how i could ever repay you..."

"pff, alright," stan scoffs, looking away, cheeks bright red and smile unconvincing. "jeez ford, you really are drunk." he laughs, his shoulders stiff and unmoving. "like what, are you trying to suck my dick?"

"is that what you want?"

stans eyes snap back to him, wide and full of shock.

"what?"

"is that what you want me to do?"

"no, ford– i'm not–"

"stan," ford says, reaching his hand now to cup stan's face, and god he's just as much of a perfect fit in ford's as he was in stan's. stan is so much bigger and better than anyone else, but with his own extra finger he just might be fit for ford. "stan, it's okay. whatever you want, whatever you need, i'll do it. for you."

sort of something like that. i really really like to think of a slightly toxic, but like in the "its toxic and also the healthiest way this dynamic can really go about" ending where ford tries to overcompensate to stan with sex and romance and stan is relunctant at first but seeing just how willing ford actually is really starts getting into the whole dom/sub— which fulfills some purpose for ford AND he gets to have stan come all over him so its kind of a huge win on all fronts

[ranhaitanisgf]

aaaaaAAAAA CONGRATS ON 2K !! IM SO HAPPY & PROUD OF YOUUUUU ILYSM YOU DONT KNOW HOW MYCH I LOOK FORWARD TO YOUR HCS 🗣!!

ofc i HAD to join on this event 🤩 may i have a scenario for “oblivious ‘best friends’ “ & “getting sick” with inui? where reader FINALLY realizes that inui actually cared for her more than a friend would ? preferably fluff 🛐 TQSM LOVE I APPRECIATE IT [cry] <3

— inui [inupi] seishu // obvlivious best friends // getting sick

[𖤐] ANON THATS SO SWEET !!!! im sorry for disappearing for so damn long !!! i hopeeee yall enjoy this, as i went wayyyy over word limit once again !! i also rewrote this like two hundred million times cuz i was struggling w the vibes idk ... anywho. enjoy my loveliessss xoxooooo

wc ; 1.7k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

inui was worried. 

well, he wasn’t sure that that was quite the word to sum up how he was feeling at the moment, but it was the best he could come up with at the moment. 

his worry had started around a week ago, when you had stopped showing up to toman meetings. it was highly unusual, since even though you took on more of a strategic role rather than a fighting role, you still would attend every meeting to offer your input on different issues and how to solve them. you prided yourself on your intellect and being able to strategize, so the first day you hadn’t shown up, it was already ringing alarm bells in his mind. 

after the second, third, and fourth day, inui was sure that something terrible had happened, and somehow nobody had told him. however, even after asking around all the divisions, and even mikey himself, he concluded that nobody had a clue as to where you were. every time he tried to call your cell, it went straight to voicemail, and all the texts that he sent were still on delivered. 

and so now, as any best friend would do, he showed up at your apartment. 

he had visited a couple times in the last week, repeatedly pressing your doorbell and knocking on the door for what seemed like forever. he didn’t want to intrude into your home, but his worry was getting to its peak, so, as an normal person would do, he decided to break your door down. 

sure, he felt pretty guilty about it, especially since your landlord would probably give you hell about it, but the pros outweighed the cons in this situation. 

pros: he gets to see if you’re safe. 

cons: your landlord gets angry and increases your rent, your door is broken until it gets fixed, your neighbors will be upset (maybe), you might get kicked out of your apartment. 

yeah, in his mind, the pro outweighed the cons. 

with a strong kick, inui swiftly kicked beneath the handle of your door. as expected, it wasn’t the strongest thing, so it opened rather easily, even having the courtesy to stay on the hinges. 

“(y/n)?” his voice rang throughout your apartment, feeling a bit on edge at how messy everything was.

 had someone broken in and kidnapped you? did you get robbed and they ended up abducting you? what if-?

“what…the fuck.” inui’s jumbled thoughts cleared up the moment he heard your voice, (was it a bit more raspy than usual?). you had emerged from your bedroom, a blanket heaped over your shoulders as you blankly stared at him. 

“(y/n)...” without much thinking, inui took a couple hasty steps forward and wrapped his arms around you, relief flooding through him. “do you have any idea how worried i’ve been? why didn’t you pick up any of my calls?” you sniffled a bit in his embrace, making him step back a bit to get a better look at you. 

your eyes were rimmed red, and now that he was paying more attention, he realized that you were really warm. your hair was quite a mess, and despite the thick blanket that you were holding over your shoulders, you seemed to be shivering. 

“well, that’s ‘cause my cell’s been dead and i haven’t charged it.” you jerked a thumb over at the living room couch, which your dead cell phone was laying on. “what’re you even doing here though? did you break the door?” your eyes wandered behind him, seeing your door wide open, looking back at inui as he froze a bit at the question. 

“yeah…i’ll pay for a new one. is this why you haven’t been responding? because you’re sick?” 

“i think you’re smart enough to answer that question yourself.” you mumbled, turning around and walking back to your bedroom. “now, if you’ll excuse me, ‘m gonna go back to sleep…” after taking another couple steps though, you felt yourself stumbling as your vision began to blur. 

your wavering frame was steadied by two arms at your shoulders, quickly leading you to sit down on the edge of your bed. as your vision came back, you noticed inui kneeling in front of you, his brows pinched together with worry as he slipped his cool hand onto your forehead. 

“you’ve had this high of a fever this whole time?” 

“yep…” you could barely keep your eyes open at this point, your head bobbing up and down as you tried to stay awake. 

“hm…just go back to sleep.” 

“will do…” you mumbled, flopping back onto your bed and getting under your blankets. 

inui looked down at you as you passed out almost immediately, feeling worried and a little bit betrayed. why hadn’t you called him? had you been taking care of yourself this whole time? 

he settled onto the edge of your bed, carefully pushing some strands of hair out of your face. gently, he pulled some of your blanket up, tucking you in, the corners of his lips turning up as you buried yourself deeper in the blanket. 

cute…

--

“...up…(y/n)...wake up…” you groaned at the subtle shaking of your body, turning over to try and go back to sleep. “(y/n)? just wake up for a few minutes and you can go back to sleep.” the smell of something good wafted through the air, which was enough to make you slowly open one eye, turning back over.

inui was above you, leaning over as he made sure you were awake. his blue eyes became a bit softer when you finally opened both of your own eyes, staying over you for a moment more than was necessary before leaning back. carefully, he handed you a small bowl of rice, a fried egg on top of it with some soy sauce, handing you a pair of chopsticks. 

“you should eat if you want to get your strength back.” you dug in without another word; the most you had been surviving on in the past week was crackers and cheese, since that was the only thing you were able to eat without doing any sort of cooking. 

however, your eating paused when you felt inui pushing some of your hair to the side, unpeeling a cold pack and carefully sticking it to your forehead. he was a little bit closer than he probably needed to be; you could see the flecks of green in his blue irises, his eyebrows still pinched together a little bit as he looked at you. 

ba-dump!

now that you were a little bit more awake, you became quite conscious of how messy your hair was, and even more so noticing how sweaty and gross you were. your fingers ran through your hair, trying your best to take some of the tangles out as you looked to the side, embarrassment flooding through you. you hadn’t called anyone on purpose; you hadn’t exactly wanted anybody to see you like this. 

“er, thanks…” 

“...” 

“...seishu…?” you questioned, feeling a bit awkward as he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. he looked back at you from his seat on the edge of your bed, a somewhat faraway look in his eyes. 

“hm?” 

“uhm, are you alright…?” at your question, inui opened his mouth, then closed it again, seeming to be thinking about something. he mulled over it for a few more moments, the silence feeling just a tad awkward, before he started to speak again. 

“i wish you had called me.” he said, a tone of hurt in his voice. “i was worried that something may have happened to you…and even if you’re just sick, i just…” inui paused, fiddling a bit with a piece of his hair as his ears turned a bit pink. “...i wish that you would rely on me more.” he sighed, his head pulling down a bit as he stared at the ground. 

the straightforwardness of his words caught you wholly off guard; you had not been expecting that sort of response from him. 

you felt some guilt flood through you at seeing his sadness, laying your chopsticks across your bowl as his words echoed through your head. you supposed that you probably should have just let him know that you were sick instead of trying to disappear for a week or two, since you probably would have also been worried if he had tried to pull a stunt like that. 

“i’m sorry…i just didn’t want anybody to see me like this. i don’t exactly look the best right now, so-” 

“you look good.” 

“...” you stared at the boy seated next to you, trying to find any sort of lie in his eyes. instead, he just kept looking back at you with the most honesty in his eyes, a slight smile across his lips. “you’re a weirdo…” you murmured, feeling your heart skip a beat when you realized that he seemed to be serious with his words, (was your face feeling hot because of your fever?). 

inui didn’t reply to your half-hearted words, instead taking the bowl from your hands and placing it on your bedside table. 

“you should get some rest.” you stayed sitting up for a moment, your eyes tracing over all his fluid movements. his blue eyes suddenly flicked back to you, the eye contact finally breaking the trance you seemed to be in, making you immediately lay back down and cover the bottom half of your face with your blankets. despite the embarrassment you were suddenly feeling, there was also a giddy feeling you felt as you watched inui adjust your blankets, making sure that you were all covered up. 

“are you going to leave?” 

please say no.

“well, no…your door doesn’t close now, and i’m not going to leave you here to let just anybody walk in.” 

“oh, right. forgot about that…” you giggled a bit at inui’s sheepish expression as he stood up, clearing off your bedside table and standing up. 

“get better soon, (y/n).” there was a small smile on his face as he exited, gently closing your door behind him. when you were sure he was gone, you couldn’t help the euphoric smile that spread across your face, pulling your blankets a bit over your face. 

did that really just happen!?

[lfghughes]

love your work :)

i was wondering if you could write like friends to lovers w nico with like a ton of tension 🙏🙏

im so obsessed with this man its unhealthy

a/n: friends to lovers is def my thing. im a true sucker for these plots.

You had been friends with Nico for years now and even though you two hadn’t grown up together sometimes it felt like you had. He was one of those people that once you two had started talking it had felt like you had known each other for ages. He had been there for you through a lot of your big life changes and you had been there for him through the ups and downs of his life. Recently you had moved out to the city and between your schedule and his schedule you didn’t get to see him as often as you’d like.

Right now it had felt like forever since you had last seen Nico and that was probably because it had been forever. For the summer he had gone back home for a little bit and you had stayed distracted at work. But now with the summer coming to an end he was officially back in New Jersey and both of you had already made plans for you to come by in the weekend to see him. The best part about your friendship was the fact that no matter how many weeks you two went without seeing each other or talking, it was so easy to jump back in.

The weekend had finally gotten here and now with most of the boys back they had all decided to go out and you had driven in from the city to go see Nico specifically, although you were pretty decent friends with some of the other boys that had been around for a few seasons. The night had started off great but as the night kept on progressing you noticed a small thing that started bothering you a little.

One thing about going out with a hockey team was that you were bound to get a lot of attention, girls would come over to talk to the boys and guys would come over for the same. Every once in a while you’d get a guy express some interest in you but their interest usually disappeared once Nico would come over to you. That was something that was currently happening. “Do you want a drink?” A random guy had asked but before you could even get an answer out Nico had answered for you. “She’s good.” And jus like that he had moved his body between yours and the guy who had come up to you.

Slowly throughout the night you started picking up more and more on little things like that and you didn’t know why suddenly Nico was playing this protective role over you because last you had checked he wasn’t your boyfriend. Not that you particularly would mind that but Nico had always made it clear that he didn’t have an interest in you romantically so you weren’t going to express your small little crush to him.

A huff escaped your lips as Nico once again made his way into another conversation between you and another guy at the bar. “You’re being annoying.” You told him and his eyebrows furrowed at you. “What do you mean?” He asked and you waved your hand to the people around you. “Any guy that tries to talk to me you scare off.” All he did was shrug at those words which only annoyed you more. “I think it’s time for me to go home.”

So maybe you were being a little over dramatic but it was late and you were tired and cranky. You exited out the door of the bar and started towards your car. “Wait..” You heard Nico’s voice come up from behind you and even though you wanted to keep going you paused and turned around. “I’m not in the mood, Nico.” You told him but before you could even turn back around his hands had gone to the side of your face, cupping your cheeks and suddenly his lips were on yours. Even though you were caught by surprise, you returned the kiss easily.

You had pictured this moment before and well Nico ended up being a lot better of a kisser than you even imagined. When he pulled away you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that the kiss was over but you were also still shocked at what had just happened between the two of you. Shocked enough that the only word you could conjure up at the moment was “Oh…"

[niyalationz]

my HONEST take on jhea + livdom 😛😛

(Again, assuming kayfabe. I dont wanna see any 'jey is married/rhea has a husband' shit !)

Written before the most recent UMMM episodes

JHEA

okay so lets get to basis of whag jhea (gee-uh) is

Their first interaction was like maybe a year ago i believe ? They were still enemies at the time, and rhea even went as far as physically attacking him with a brief case. She DID NOTTT want him at that point of time.

However, as time went on w Rheadom, jey found an opportunity to sliiidee in and he took it!

Good on him #king

Anyways

I personally rlly like them. AND HERES WHY!

RHEA herself is definitely a very playful and silly character. Even when she was with Liv, she was very silly and just had fun. As shown with Damian 24/7, she was ALWAYS playful sort of like a little sister! However, with Dominik, she sort of (what im assuming) started to behave in a way that would appeal to dominik's 'mami' thing. She became ruder, more dominant, and possessive. Also, i should add on, the relationship there was always very sexual. A relationship led by sexual tension will NEVER be a good relationship. Even the 'mami' title was meant to be somewhat sexual at the very least. With Jey, she doesn't have to be dominant or scary or possessive or wtv; she doesn't have to be MAMI. She can be Jey's girl, or just Rhea. She also subtly confirmed that Jey calls her BABY. THATS SUCH A HUGE DIFFERENCE IDC! She upgraded def.

Basically, im saying that Jhea is way better bcz rhea doesn't have to be reliable and the dominant one 24/7, and she doesn't have to play into this sexual character. Instead, she can just be herself with Jey.

However, they NEED to interact more on screen. WWE made them only to never develop their relationship anymore then a few casual glances and conversations.

HOWWWWEVVVERRRR ... ik yall see the way Rhea looks at that man. She is in elll ohh vveee eeeee eee eee and affection 🥴

That also culd technically play into sm rheadom angst if ur into that! Any woman who's able to stare at a man like that and have so much love in her eyes will never b able to truly get over an ex just like 🫰🏽 that!

Anywaysssss ....

Ok also i wanted 2 add that jhea also holds a special place in my heart BECAUSE its like chyna and eddie ykwim? Eddie reminded the world that chyna is still a lady and i feel like jey would remind US that rhea his still a lady and most importantly his lady!

LIVDOM

Yall are gonna be rrreeeallllyyy mad at this oouuu... oh well!

First of all, this is NOT a good relationship. And it's not js bcz of what u think I think it is. Lemme put yall on.

Liv constantly stalked and harassed Dominik for weeks. She touched him w/o his consent even if he told her not tew, but she didn't gaf! But, guess what, he fell inlove w her. Yall know what that is?

YH I SAID IT ! SOOOO WHATTTTT . Anyways!

The relationship also feels a little forced. Like Liv bragged abt getting w him and being a home-wrecker. Dom ykdw. Dpmo boy. It sort of feels like Liv only got w dominik because it was a way to get at Rhea. And when she realized rhea dgaf abt him no more, she brought in raquel; ANOTHER person who can fw rhea's mental. I also doubt Liv will stay with dominik for tooo long because 1. Dominik is not a good wrestler. Ok i said it his bookings are ass and he always cheats even if he is a heel! 2. He can genuinely not provide anything for liv. He can't fight the women's division for her, to protect her from any girl bigger than her because like.. not only is he a pussy but he also got bodied by rhea like three times? Raquel howrver, CAN fight the women's division. She can fight any girl rlly, bcz shes big asl and strong! Raquel is 100% more helpful to liv and she rlly dont need the judgment day or that clown dominik at all if she has raquel!

With that being said, let's look at the positives!

Ok there arent any! But hmo pls

I hated the relationship because, everything abt it is then being sexual. 24/7. Like, kissing, touching, holding each other, all these forms of pda and what not.

BUT ... that changed a bit when i seen that liv felt bad abt the cage and got him a gift! Ok we're getting somewhere w this relationship period!

Hopefully they'll keep going in this positive direction for livdom , and wont js keep having them everywhere while not building or adding onto their character/bond/ and relationship at all.

OVERALL ?

OVER ALL THOUGHTS ???????

Weelllllllll

Jhea is a solid 8.5/10, i'd make it 10/10 if it didnt feel like rhea was js using jey as a rebound since her man was gone. But, thankfully, it doesn't rlly feel like that and they both make it easy to forget she even dated dominik! Yayyyy!

Livdom is a 6/10. Not anything less than a five, but definitely not above an 8. Ykwim? I seen this clip of Liv sort of pushing dominik's hand away, and maybe that's a sign of her not rlly fw him OR maybe it's js him moving his hand away and didnt see liv's hand as she went to grab it. Idk who knows! Not me thats for sure!

In general tho, i'm glad rheadom broke up; even if it hurts my heart to admit. I deadass called them mama y papa & summerslam had my heart hurting for dayysss after.

the reason im glad they split is bczzz Dominik had always been somebodies sidekick, whether it be his dad, rhea, or liv. I wanna see dominik completely alone, and managing his way without help at all. Maybe for just a few segments or wtv! WWE has done a great job making his character look pathetic alr, but it seems a lil unrealistic as Dominik himself is REY MYSTERIO'S son. Anybody w rey's blood is gonna be somewhat good at wrestling okurrr ?

Okay i forgot what elese i wanted to add on bcz i wrote this like two(?) weeks ago and forgot all abt it thne i went to finish it but tumblr deleted what i wrote so i had to just go off the first draft .

Anyways yall have a good night its 8:29 and i spent my entire day out n about for my bday week 🫠 im DRAINED

Bye yall

[sanemislittledemon]

My Good Girl

Sanemi x plus size reader

Nsfw below MDNI

Warnings: Oral ( f receiving ), multiple orgasms, vaginal sex, rough sex

Y/N was walking back from the butterfly estate where she was visiting the insect hashira Shinobu. the Kamado siblings were there also, its better some time since I last saw them after Sanemi made an ass of himself and I make it a point to apologize to both Tanjiro and Giyuu too for my boyfriends' actions. I sigh to myself "that block head well never learn" I mistakenly say out loud "who the hell are you calling a block head?”My eyes shoot up to the beautifully scarred man standing in front of me.

I waste no time jumping into his arms "Sanemi! when did you get back from your mission?" He just looked at me with his eye twitching he says, "you going to tell me who you were just calling a block head before I have to punish you" My body got tense under his piercing glare "S-Sanemi I don't know what you are talking about?" I studder.

Sanemi then grabs my neck hard enough to prove a point but not enough to hurt "what have I told you about lying to me, baby girl?" I blush deeply at the promise in his voice, he's probably on edge from being gone for so long

"I was thinking about you Sanemi” I say quietly, hearing that Sanemi lets go of my neck to instead grab my wrist and lead me somewhere "W-Where are we going Sanemi?" I ask but he didn't say anything in reply. he was walking so fast I could barely keep up "S-Sanemi slow down! you're going to fast!" I yell at him and the man in question just stops and turns towards me with a dark expression, but I could have sworn I seen a glimmer of lust in his eyes before they were crazed once more.

Then without warning Sanemi pulls me to him before lifting me over his shoulder "Sanemi! put me the hell down, I'm way too heavy-" I start to scream before he cuts me off with a hard smack to my ass and a booming voice saying

“The hell were you going to say? You calling me weak?”

It didn't take much longer before we were at the entrance to the wind estate, Sanemi walks up and kicks the door in before making his way to our room where he throws me on the futon.

All Sanemi says is " strip " before walking to our closet, I quickly obey and strip down until I had nothing covering my full breasts, my rounded stomach and my hips that Sanemi adores grabbing with his scarred hands and marking with his sharper than normal canines.

I was jerked out of my thoughts when I heard Sanemi say "lay down, legs spread and arms above you" I blush at the thought of me being exposed to him especially since he’s still fully clothed but I knew my punishment would be worse (if I didn't use my safe word of course)

I laid down on the futon just as instructed, feeling immense embarrassment at his gaze on me. " I'm going to tie you up, are you okay with that? " Sanemi asks in a tone that's dark yet comforting.

I just nod my head prompting a swift slap on my thigh making my entire body shudder "words" he said darkly "y-yes Lord Sanemi" I say weakly "good girl" he says before tying rope around both ankles and bringing the rope up to my thighs to bind them so I couldn't move before using another rope to tie my arm above my head and tying it around a small metal rod in the floor that he put there for just this occasion "now you're going to be a good girl and take what I give you, understood?" he asks

"yes Lord Sanemi" I say having learnt my lesson about not speaking

"good girl" is all Sanemi says before he leans down and captures my lips in a sloppy kiss, our teeth hitting together as our tongues fought for dominance. I turn my head and gasp for air, but he just grabs my chin in a tight grip and forces my head back to him but before he kisses me again, he says "control your breathing or you can't handle my cock down your throat, baby girl" Sanemi makes a disapproving noise before saying "I think you would like my cock down your throat to much, this is punishment so instead how about I make you cum until you can't anymore?” After those words left his lips he moved his head to my neck, kissing and biting marks into my skin "S-Sanemi" I whined

Another smack on my thigh "you want me to gag your mouth too? the only thing I want to hear out of your pretty pink lips is those moans you know I love so much" says Sanemi before he gets back to work marking my flesh from my neck to my full breasts "damn babe your already hard here" he says with a smirk as he's gently pulling on one of my erect nipples and making me throw my head back as a loud moan ripped from my throat

"that's my good girl" he says as he's goes to lick my other nipple. I buck my hips trying to get some sort of relief from my dripping cunt but Sanemi grabs my plush hips in a bruising grip and keeping them pinned to the futon below me "what did I say about taking what I give you?” he says with a growl in his voice before taking my nipple back into his mouth and gently biting it with his teeth causing another moan to be ripped out of me.

Sanemi is being rougher than usual, his attitude and appearance may suggest otherwise but he usually isn't this demanding 'he's probably been wanting this since he left' I thought

Sanemi finally lets go of my nipple and slowly makes his way down to my stomach marking my soft skin with his teeth and grabbing my curves with his hands until I swear it will leave bruises. “fuck baby, have I told you how much I love your body. It’s like you were made for me, the way your flesh molds under my touch, you want to feel how hard you make me?" he asks has he moves his lower body until my knee is pressing to his hard cock that still confined in his pants

“you feel that baby? It’s throbbing to be inside you”

I moaned as I felt his cock ‘it’s big’ I think but Sanemi quickly moves until he’s back between my legs “remember your safe word” he asks as his obsidian eyes mean mine, prompting me to answer “ohagi” I say with confidence, Sanemi smiles and pats me on the thigh “good girl” he says has he’s lowering himself down between my thighs where he starts marking me again, making sure there wasn’t a place on me that wasn’t marked with him and only him.

Sanemi then spreads my folds and admires the slick that’s I know is dripping all the way to my ass, it’s so embarrassing but I know if I open my mouth I’ll be punished worse as if I should be punished in the first place, I quickly sigh to myself.

I hear Sanemi let out a throaty moan from below me “such a pretty pussy, you’re already so wet for me” he says while leaning in and licking the side of my pussy in a long stripe, obviously teasing me Sanemi starts gently licking the outside of my pussy, not daring to go any further yet, this is supposed to be punishment after all

But out of nowhere Sanemi flattens out his tongue and licks a long stripe up my entire pussy a moan is torn from my lips as my back tries to arch as much as its able to because of these ropes.

Pleasure and relief shoot through my body when he finally touches my neglected clit with his ravenous tongue. Tears prick my eyes at the intensity of every I’m feeling, when I let out a scream of pleasure Sanemi moans against my heat obviously enjoying what he’s doing to me “fuck babe I’ve missed your taste” Sanemi says before taking my clit into his mouth and gently sucking on it, my hips buck as I feel my realize approaching, the man between my legs knows it to and starts sucking my swollen clit faster.

That’s enough to throw me over the edge, my head hits the futon as pleasure shoots through my entire body causing my legs to shake but even after the pleasure starts to turn into mild discomfort Sanemi still didn’t stop. He kept sucking and nipping my clit until tears fell from my eyes, I knew he didn’t want to hear a word from me or the punishment would be worse so I kept my mouth shut but my body wouldn’t stop shaking from the pleasure my boyfriend just gave me

Sanemi knew just how to make me a trembling mess below him weather that be with his tongue, cock or fingers, he knew how to make me scream. I try to struggle in my bonds to no avail ‘damn that man’ I curse him in my head.

Sanemi chuckles at my attempts to get out of my bonds “not going to happen sweetness” Sanemi mocks before putting that magical tongue back to work the discomfort is slowly starting to replaced by pleasure once again.

The wet noises that he’s making are so obscene it’s embarrassing but the pleasure that’s coursing through my veins is something that no one else can do for me, seeing his white hair poking out from between the thighs that is caging him is a sight that only I have the pleasure of seeing.

‘shit I’m going to cum again’

This man is eating my pussy like it’s his last meal, his tongue flicks my clit one last time and I’m thrown over the edge of ecstasy.

Sanemis arms circle my thighs to keep me on the futon as he’s devouring my pussy through yet another orgasm. he makes me cum two more times like this, I can’t even think straight but thankfully he finally stops, he’s lifting his head from between my thighs and licking my slick from his lips seductively “fuck baby you taste good, here have some” he says before reaching down to collect some with his fingers before bringing them to my lips “open” he says and I do so fucked out I can’t even argue. I take his fingers in my mouth and rolling them over my tongue making sure I clean every bit of my slick from them.

Sanemi eyes me hungrily but to both our displeasure he pulls his fingers away and unties one of my legs from the ropes making me sigh in relief but he quickly rolled me on my side and lifted that leg up.

I didn’t even notice that he took off his belt and took his cock out but the thing was staring me right in my face, my mouth is watering at the sight of it making it twitch Sanemi and smirk “like what you see baby ?” he asks knowing damn well what my answer would be. Sanemi goes to straddle my other leg and puts his cock to my dripping entrance, his blunt head lightly poking at it but not giving me what I need

“I want you to beg me to put my cock in you”

My eyes widened as those words left his mouth, embarrassment creeping up my spine “come on baby, you know you want it” he says before teasing me with the tip again. I swallow my pride and said weakly “p-please I need your cock, lord Sanemi” my words earned a groan from him as he slammed his cock into me “…thats my good fucking girl” he moaned as he repeatedly fucked into me and hitting the deepest parts of me.

“Fuck Sanemi!” I screamed so loud I’m sure people could hear me outside. Sanemi grabbed the thigh that was propped on his shoulder for leverage and fucked into me rolling his hips just right to finally hit my g-spot with every thrust. It didn’t take long before I felt the liquid fire burning in my pelvis again, between Sanemi hitting my g-spot and hearing his groans, I wasn’t going to last much longer

“Lord Sanemi! I’m going to cum please” I beg him

“come on baby, cum on my cock like the good girl you are” he replied with a fucked up tone to his voice “FUCK” was his only warning before I clamped down on his cock and came all over his cock and the futon.

Sanemi let out a low growl as his thrusts grew faster then came to a stop with I felt his hot release fill up my insides. Sanemi threw his head back as pleasure overtook him, sweat glistening his pale skin and accentuating his scars.

Sanemi slowly pulled out to both of our displeasure, letting my leg down he moved to fully untie me “are you okay, baby” his asked gently all I could do was nod because I didn’t trust my voice right now but thankfully he understood.

Sanemi then inspected where the ropes had been tied “I think it’s going to bruise” he said with a worried look on his face before getting up and leaving the room. I laid on the futon too sore to even try to get up but Sanemi quickly came back with a bucket of water and a wash cloth.

He leaned over me “I’m going to clean you up okay” he asked and I nodded again Sanemi made quick work of cleaning my body but to my surprise he brings my leg to his face and kisses my knee “I’m so lucky to have someone like you, I know I’m not the easiest one to get along with but thank you” he says without looking in my direction

I sigh and reply “yes you are a pain some times and you are mean to my best friend but I love you Sanemi and nothing will change that” I could tell Sanemi instantly got angry from me mentioning Giyuu “WE WERE HAVING A GOOD MOMENT AND YOU JUST HAD TO BRING HIN UP?!” he ranted and flew into a rage and knocking over the water all over the floor thankfully it was far enough away from our futon so it was saved

“DAMNIT SANEMI CLEAN THAT UP!” I yelled back ‘damn this is going to be a all night’ I sigh and close my eyes trying to drown out his yelling of “DAMNED TOMIOKA” and “THAT BASTARDS TAKING MY WOMAN” I’m seriously getting a headache. hopefully he will tire himself out soon but at least he’s cleaning up his mess. 

[tandytoaster]

Ngl this Christmas season kinda sucked. Like a lot

Me complaining lol

Nanny making light of how my mother almost died. Like my mom forgets something and nanny is like "oh lol its because you had a brain aneurysm" and on one hand i understand joking about something fucked up that happened to you and the scenario of your daughter being inches from death would seriously fuck you up but i don't know i just don't think its funny. I dont think its her thing to joke about. Nanny and I are on complete opposite sides of this like shes like "lol my daughter almost died. Tee hee" and I'm like. Forever altered for the worse by this

Omg. She had a moment back in September where she wasn't telling Steve stuff and he flipped out at her like cursing at her and screaming. I can't remember if I talked about this I feel like I might have. But like HE called me that day and was like, "hey uhhh idk if u were talking to ur grandmother or not but i kinda freaked out on her earlier and i feel bad about it and i wanted to tell u my side of the story because we've been talking more and i really appreciate that" and i was like 🤏👓🤨 EXCUSE ME? Not actually but i was thinking it. And then that night or the night after nanny called me and telling me the same thing, that steve flipped out at her and she was like "omg. I don't think I'll ever think of him the same. i dont care if i ever speak to him again" and all i could do was be like, "ok. yeah." Because why is THIS. Where you draw the line why do you decide to hate him when he's mean to you but you still talk to him despite the shit he did to me. Like all I could think was "i dont give a damn" like truly i dont lol. I dont care that steve yelled at you. Like daaaammmnnnn thats craaazzyyyyy he yelled at you? Omg? Should we cancel him? Should we write a callout post? LMFAOOOOO

She's also like 100% fine with him again. Joking about her saying she was gonna chop his dick off because whe was so upset with how he spoke to her.

Thats so funny that you wanted to chop his dick off over him yelling at you. and not anything else. that would warrant having his dick chopped off.

I have to live this shit ass game of pretend for the rest of my life. I fought against this for 5 years and nothing changed. No one cares. No one wants to think about it. Its a battle I've lost, I lost it the moment it started I truly never had a chance. But I tried. And I failed. And I tried. And I failed. And I tried. And I failed. So I'm done. They win. I'll never ever say it didn't happen, BECAUSE IT DID, but I'm just never going to acknowledge it again to them just like everyone else. I'm sorry if that makes me a shitty survivor or whatever .

Also nanny is just . Overly excitable when company comes over and she gets like. Too ready to tease. Like shes just slinging jabs at anyone and everyone in her way. Like all my life my mother would tell me that nanny is awful and that she treated her like the black sheep of the family and i see it. I know that I for sure have it better than my mom, which is a damn shame, but like. Fuck dude idk!!!

And nanny is just weird. She puts garbage in with clean stuff and calls it tidying and she laughs when someone tells her thats not right, and when they're like, "no, seriously, do not do that" she goes, "well i guess i can't do anything!" And then she fake laughs to try to seem like she's not mad but she is mad. That someone told her not to actively damage her surroundings

Reading this I'm realizing its literally just nanny being weird. Nanny moments.

I baked a butterscotch pie for her and Sacha and nanny told me to put it in the basement because its cold down there, so i did and she FORGOT ABOUT IT!!!! FOR DAYS!!!!!! i made it on the 23, it finished setting on the 24th, she forgot about it until today, the 28th, brought it up from the basement at 12pm, and nanny forgot about it Again until 5pm. So it was sitting at room temp for 5 hours. She was like, "yeah it tastes different" I FUCKING WONDER WHY?

Its just a really difficult, stressful and time consuming thing to make and to have it be forgotten about when I work hard using the little energy I have to make it, it hurts ! I don't have any money to buy anything for anyone not even my girlfriend, so thats why I bake 😔 Man usually I'm not passive aggressive but dude. Nanny was like, "do u think its still good" and i was like, "well lets just eat it and see what happens if we get sick we get sick 🙃"

[jaiistg]

Reader as "im insecure" and Azul ashengrotto as "if you cant love you insecurities then I will."

"When I see your face,theres none of a thing that I would change cause girl your amazing.Just the way you are."

-An very important note,pls read.

Hi! So this is related to what happened to me yesterday.Im already insecure of myself and my guy classmate told me negative things and made me hate myself even more.I know that alot of people are going tru this which is why I made this post.I want to make people feel good and I just wanna say looks don't define who you are.You are beautiful/handsome and perfect just the way you are and whenever someone tells you negative things about yourself thats a lie.They are probably jealous of you which is why they wanna make you feel insecure of youself,plus who are they to say that? They aren't even perfect.Noone is.I hope this post makes you feel better.make sure to drink water and love yourself<33 I love you soo much and Im proud of you.

•Azul is really confused on why your insecure of yourself I mean,your literally perfect to his eyes.

•If only you could see how you look like in his eyes...<33

•Whenever he sees your face he falls all over again for you.

•Since he knows your insecure he tells you everyday how pretty you are, ect so that you can gain self confidence<33

•He will ATTACK people who bodyshames or faceshames you.He dosent understand why people do that,like are they happy that they made someone insecure???? They are proud of doing that shit???

•Trust me,he knows how hard it is being insecure of themselves.He himself experienced it but now its just in the past.A very bad past that is still stuck to his head.

•He dosent want you to feel the way he felt when he was a child which is why he made a promise to himself that HE WILL PROTECT YOU NO MATTER WHAT.

•You tried breaking up with him because you thought that he deserved better,it went likee this.

"Why did you wanna see me?" Azul asked

"Listen,I wanna break up with you."

"W-what why? D-did I do anything wrong? Please tell me,!! We can do better!!"

"No.Its not your fault."

"then why....?"

"You deserve better than me.I don't even know what you saw in me that made you like me.Im sorry if Im an overthinker,im not even pretty enough to be your girlfriend.Which is why im letting you go.You deserve to be with someone much better then me,im really sorry but im doing this for you.Your better off without someone like me."

"No,Y/n,Im not letting you break up with me.I don't ever wanna be with anyone but you,fuck I can't even imagine being with someone else! Your perfect to me.Im grateful to have a girlfriend like you and anyone else would be.I love every single thing about you.Theres no single flaw I see everytime I see you."

•You had a mental breakdown because someone said negative stuff's about you and god,Azul couldn't take it anymore,he had a talked with the guy.

"You have no right to tell Y/n that,are you perfect huh? Ofcourse your not, there's not a single human being that is perfect,so tell me.How do you feel? HOW DO YOU FUCKING FEEL AFTER TELLING HER THAT???? YOU MADE HER INSECURE OF HERSELF AGAIN JUST AS SHE WAS STARTING TO LOVE HERSELF AGAIN! DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS FOR HER TO LOVE HERSELF AND WHEN SHE FINALLY LEARNED TO LOVE HERSELF YOUR JUST GONNA FUCKING RUIN IT?! FIX YOURSELF!"

•Everytime you started to feel insecure of yourself Azul is always there to comfort you.He loves you so much :((<33

[eddiesguitarskills]

When We Were Young

Part 5

Ex bf Eddie Munson X fem reader

Other parts 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.

Intro: 5 years have past since you packed up and left behind Hawkins. Well not all of it, as the people you met there are still a huge part of your life. But it's been 5 years since you had set a foot in the small town, 5 years since you left him.And now after all that time you were back.

Warning: angst, language, mentions of suicide, miscarriages, self harm, mental health.Arguments. Mentions of break ups. Female identity reader. Use of y/n

Bold parts are flashbacks

Word Count: 4.3 k

A/n: please only read if you are in a good place, I wouldn't want this story to trigger or hurt anyone. This took a while to write again, I just don’t want to rush it. Sorry for the wait hope you enjoy. Buckle in for this rollercoaster of a chapter

Not prove read

The first week of school had been hectic, to say the least, you had expected that. But it genuinely felt like you haven't been able to sit down once, you thought by having all your lesson prepared there wouldn't be too much work other than classes. However, you wanted to make good connections at your new place of work. Especially since a lot of the teachers at the school were there when you were a teenager, you felt like they still saw you as a kid not ready for this responsibility.

Steve fit in so well, he was always better with older people. It was easier for him he was a charmer. You on the other hand were better with kids/teenagers they were easier to read. Your wanting to fit in had led you to have multiple jobs, you felt like this was a test from the other teachers, like a form of hazing so you just said yes and went along with it. You helped organise books in the library. Ran after-school detention. Had to watch the canteen at lunchtime. You were on a permanent coffee run. You had even fallen into the trap of helping to repaint a wall with the school janitor. You were honestly surprised you had any time to teach in between everything you were doing.

Steve had told you “you don't need to do that to fit in. You'll find your place you always do”. But you didn't know how long that might take so you went along with it. It felt worth it when you were invited to drink after school at the local bar on Friday. You knew Steve didn't go to these things which made you nervous, but you knew you would have to start to exist in this town without your crutch.

Which is why you were now standing arm-to-arm with your new colleagues in a packed Hideout. It had improved since the last time you had been there. However despite its new paint, new artwork on the walls. Even with a new sign with a new name, Waterdeep, It still felt the same. The exact same as the night you and Eddie properly met. Nothing had changed. While listening to your colleagues share memories, ignoring your existence, you look around to see what was still there since you last came. You wonder if your’s and Eddie’s initials would still be carved on the table near the toilets. Most people avoided that table so as a teenager in love you thought this would be the best spot to leave the mark of your love.

Sweat dripping from every inch of his body, Eddie jumps from the small stage guitar still strapped to him, over to you. He grabs your cheeks and kisses you deeply. You were glad to be held because you think you would have fallen if not. You had already gone weak at the knees tonight when you heard Eddie’s new song dedicated to you, singing about you being the one. “Did you like it?” You nod your head. “Better than anything I’ve ever heard. Did you mean it?”. Eddie smiles “as I said in the song I don’t care if people think I’m young, and dumb. I know one thing, you are the one I will love for the rest of time”. Heat starts to rise to your cheeks. “When did you get so soft?” He grabs your ass from under your skirts. “Maybe it’s when I saw your rocking body” he joked because he loved you for more than that. But Jesus he would happily worship your body every day. That would be the only religion he would need.

You smacked his chest playfully, then dragged him to where you were sitting. He placed you on his lap in the booth at the table, kissing your ear and your neck. He couldn’t keep his hands off you. You giggled but could also feel more than butterflies starting to rise in your body. You took his hand from your waist and pulled it under the table “eager” he said not understanding that you weren’t trying to ‘play’ in the bar. He put his hand on your leg running up and down it. “Eddie, I didn’t mean that”. He looked glum but quickly removed his hand not wanting to make you uncomfortable. “At least not here at least”. You spoke so only he could hear you. You pulled his hand under the table again and let him feel it. He felt the outline of both your initials carved into the wood. He smiled. “So no matter where we go our mark will always be on the first place we met”. He pulled you in for another kiss, then moved you off his lap. Reaching into his pocket. “In that case, it has to be someone less hidden than under the table. I think our love at least deserves the top of it”. It was silly but I’m that moment it felt like the most romantic thing. At that time everything Eddie did felt like the most romantic thing to ever happen.

You couldn't stop staring at the table, wondering if it was still there. That might be the only proof you have that your love was real. That you were happy together, that at one point he loved you. “What world have you travelled off to now?” You spun around to the sound of the low gravelly voice. You should have put two and two together and realised if Eddie was to own any bar of course it would be this one. It held so many memories for him. It was of his safe places where he could completely be himself. Maybe it wasn't the original dream for him but it made so much sense. It was like this job was always meant for him. You were happy for him.

Eddie had not expected to see you here. Despite how he was acting he was nervous but strangely happy to see you. This could be his only chance to talk to you. He thought you might avoid him for the rest of his life for how he treated you last time you had spoke. Sure you had said some things and you had still hurt him, but hearing about the breakdown made him feel guilty. He felt like the guilt was eating him alive or maybe it was the wondering that was doing that, (if he saw the signs he could have helped?). The problem is when he had these internal battles in his head he always stubbornly ended up with the same thought, that you left him before he had a chance to fix it. Part of him wanted to apologize but he didn't know 100% what for and he was sure he wasn't supposed to know about what happened. Dustin said it wasn't public knowledge, only Steve was allowed to know. It was always Steve. Even now he felt jealous that you always completely let Steve into your world and he had only got a chance to dip his foot in. Even worse now he was out of it altogether.

He was so nervous that he thought about not talking to you, and hiding in the back until you left. That would be pathetic he thought, but he was tempted. That was until he watched you more intensively and noticed how the people you were with were ignoring you completely but then again you weren't trying with them. It looked like you had given up on interacting, he couldn't blame you he recognize many of the faces of his old teacher and he wouldn't want to talk to them either. But this was your new job, you need to try with them. You couldn't shut down. It wasn’t his responsibility to make you feel less lonely or at ease but he didn’t want have something else to feel guilty about. Maybe he couldn't trust you with his heart but he could give you an olive branch.

He noticed you still hadn't said anything and had gone back to daydreaming, he used to think you had the cutest face when you went into a trance. You still did. He almost didn't want to break you from it again, but the longer you were there the more he panicked. He remembers what you said about this place at the Harrington’s, saying it wasn't his dream like he was a failure. Were you judging him? He wanted to put on a front like he didn't care what you thought, but he couldn't stop thinking about it.

“Welcome to my almost dream” you both cringed at his words. “It looks good”. You didn't know what to say. You wanted to tell him you were proud, but it wasn't your place anymore. He hoped you meant that. Those few words were something he didn't know he needed until he heard them from your mouth. “The usual?” he smiled. You were a creature of habit, but maybe you had changed he thought. Maybe this was a small test to find out what was the Same and what was new about you. Every time he remembered you drinking, you would have a vodka and coke. Only half a shot of vodka though. It always felt like the safest drink. “Just a coke. I can't drink anymore”. Why did you tell him that? Can't. The word made him thinking you not drinking wasn’t by choice. He wanted to ask. The word don't and can't are very different but it wasn't his place anymore. “Coming right up”.

He pours a coke from the tap and slides it over to you. “How much?” he shakes his head. “Call it mates rates” he uses a stupid British accent to impersonate you. He regrets it instantly when you don't laugh or smile. How could you smile when you were face to face with the fact that the old Eddie was still in there? The one you loved. Did he flirt with all the customers? Was he just being nice? Was there more to it? Did he notice you looking glum and was trying to cheer you up? Why would he care?

It made sense if you were being rational about it, there was nothing more to it then the fact that he couldn't be cruel like usual in front of the customers. He had to be pretend to be nice but that didn’t stop your heart from stupidly beating slight faster. You knew the old Eddie would unfortunately for you never be real again. A glimpse was all it would ever be, he would slip back to the Eddie who hated you on your next meeting. The thought hurt more than you would like to admit. “I didn't know we were friends” you mutter. It sounded like a dig, you didn't exactly mean it to, but it was a fact.

Silence followed after your statement, you assumed with how busy the bar was, Eddie would use this as his excuse to leave. He had been civil enough for the evening he could go, but he stayed. Thinking about what to say next. Sure you were right, you weren't exactly friends, but you weren't strangers, and given the new information he knew about you, he couldn't bring himself to hate you. So where did that leave you two? The silence was killing you, it felt like all the noise from the bar had disappeared and the only sound you could hear was the gears turning in his head.

You look around the room for anything to mention to stop whatever this was. You see the stage, with a drum set at the back and a microphone. “Do you still play?” He was very thankful for your change of topic and even more thankful you were still talking to him. He wanted to enjoy these few moments with you. He shakes his head. Your stomach sank. You hated that, he was good. Maybe he wasn't amazing enough to break out of the state, but he was still good. You used to love singing with him in his trailer while he played the guitar. You could have never imagined he would have given up something that made him so happy. You wondered what other happiness he had deprived himself of. “Why?” He shrugs his shoulders and mutters “because it made me think of you”. You shouldn't have been able to hear him with how low he spoke, especially with how loud the atmosphere was but he was all you were focused on right now and his words felt like another knife being twisted in you.

It showed you that no matter how hard he pretends to be nice or civil with you, he still looks down on you and blames all his down comings on you. “Oh, so it's my fault”. God he hoped you hadn't even heard it and now you thought he was insulting you. Eddie Munson could not win with you, he ran his hand through his hair. Keep calm, you are doing so well. She is just trying to get a raise out of you he told himself. “That’s not what I meant sweetheart,” he says walking off to the other end of the bar to help the other bartenders. Your heart was beating so fast you were sure you were having a heart attack. You guessed it could be a panic attack but it didn't feel like that. Could it be... No, you shake your head of course not.

“ I see some things never change” you turn around to see Mrs O’donald your old teacher giggling into her chardonnay. “You two were always joined at the hip, I hope he doesn't get you into trouble anymore. I always thought you could do better than him” she slurred her words. It was weird seeing someone who used to be your teacher and who was now your colleague drunk. She always had an issue with Eddie, you always thought it was people like her that was at fault for his failures. Sure he could have put more effort in but it's hard to do that when the people who are supposed to teach you don't even have your back. That's part of the reason you wanted to be a teacher to help kids like Eddie, show they can do it and are worth it. But to hear her still look down on him, pissed you off. You smiled the fakest smile and grabbed your coke off the bar downing it. “Looks like he's doing pretty good to me. I guess you and everyone else were wrong about him. In fact he did all this without your help” with that you left.

The next morning you woke up glad for it to be a Saturday, it had dawned on you what you had said. You were better than that, you could usually bite your tongue. You had worked so hard to fit in and now you had gone against one of the top dogs at school, you hoped it was just your anxiety making you worry and school would be fine. You should have kept your mouth shut. After everything he had done to you, you were still defending him. You felt like a fool. So like a fool, you spend the rest of the weekend in bed hardly eating, walling in self-pity. Ignoring the phone.

As soon as Monday came around you knew you couldn't avoid the world anymore. Maybe it wasn't as big of a deal as you were making it. You hoped it had been forgotten about. Whatever the case you needed to sort out your thoughts, you couldn't teach like this. You were thankful for the first period being free. You sat at the desk eating a cereal bar making sure the scripts from Romeo and Juliet were ready for your next lesson with the juniors. You heard a tap on the door, “come in”.

Steve looked at you and shook his head. “So you are alive then” you want to roll your eyes at him, but you hate to think he was worrying about you all weekend. After what happened you knew better than to just shut out the world or at least better than to shut out Steve. “I'm sorry it was a weird weekend”. He gulped worried that something bad had happened, he knew he should have just come around to your house to check on you. “Weird like how everyone is saying you and Eddie are dating or did something else happen?” He decides to mix a joke in about the rumours in the staff room to disguise his worry. He knows you and Eddie had been seen talking on Friday. He hoped it was better than the last time you were in a room together. He hoped Eddie wasn’t to blame for you shutting Steve out all weekend.

You groan and slam your head on the desk. You didn't think that's the gossip that would be spread. You didn't want to have your name linked to Eddie anymore. “Jesus I should have kept my mouth shut, you can't talk to anyone in this town without it being news. All I did was defend him one time”. Steve looked at you confused “wait so you spoke to him, didn’t kill each other. Then defended him. Are you okay?”. You fake laugh. “seriously though I don't know if it's a good idea for you two to be friends, I don't want you to get hurt again”. The school bell rang “I get it, dad, now you better go I have class”.

Eddie had also had a weird weekend but he didn't have the chance to stay inside all weekend like you. He had to go to work. He wishes he hadn’t overheard you standing up for him. It played over and over in his head. Your being back in town had caused more questions. Nothing made sense. He assumed you hated him or didn't like him anymore so you left but why would you stand up for someone you didn't care about? He guessed you were just being nice but it felt like more than that. Before he even had a chance to ask you or thank you, you had left.

He had Monday off work, so he decided this would be his day to go wallow and figure out what this all meant. As soon as one pm hit, he got a call from Dustin so he had to postpone his wallowing. He was thankful for his friend's constant chatter it was a nice distraction from thinking about you. About two hours after that the doorbell rang to signal someone was at his door. Maybe it was you. He had gone a full two hours without thinking about you and now as soon as his brain had a chance to drift to you, it did. It made no sense either why you would be at the door, you didn’t even know where he lived anymore. Even if it was you, what you be here for? What would you even talk about? It made no sense to want you here, but he couldn’t control his thoughts. All rationality had him left since you came back.

He opened the door to reveal Sarah with food from his favourite diner in her hand. With the tight white dress she was wearing that left nothing to imagination he knew exactly what she was after and it wasn’t the food. So he pushed the weird thoughts he was having about you to the back of his mind and took Sarah up on her offer. He didn’t feel like he was using her, he was always upfront about their relationship. He had told her he couldn’t date anybody, and she agreed, saying she only wanted fun. So as long as it didn’t affect work and both knew they could stop this whenever. It felt nice to have an outlet to forget without strings attracted.

Eddie had help Sarah get off a few times but when she tried to return the favour, they were having issues. Eddie was so stressed and thoughts were still consumed with you that he could only get a semi at most. This had never happened before, Sarah felt embarrassed and Eddie felt mortified. Especially since you had already ruined the hope of him ever being in a relationship, now he couldn’t even have sex because of the thought of you. He got out a pre-rolled joint from his bedside table and began to smoke it. He hardly smoked weed anymore. At most once a month but he knew it would help him relax so hopefully he could sort his problem and try again with Sarah.

Halfway through the joint, the house phone started ringing again. He assumed it must be Dustin to finish the conversation they were having before Sarah came. He hoped talking to his friend would help him forget again, so he raced out of the room to the phone. He was about to pick up when he realised he still had the blunt in his mouth. He stubbed it out remembering his promise to Dustin to try and quit. He didn’t want to disappoint him. He then picked up the phone, “sorry I had to hang up before, but I’m free now if you wanna talk again”.

“Sorry to disappoint but I’m definitely not who you were expecting”. Eddie stopped himself from sighing, he hadn’t spoken to Steve in a few weeks. He and Steve being friends, Eddie would have never expected it, in fact, he thought when you left, him and Steve would hate each other forever. However, that’s the thing about this group they had shared trauma and would never leave a man behind. Steve followed this most out of everyone he checked in with the group at least once a week, and with Eddie being around the same age they talked a lot. They in fact grew to be good friends, even if Steve was always a little hesitant to let Eddie fully in. Not hearing from Steve for weeks was weird, but right now it felt weirder to be hearing from him.

“So I heard you and y/n spoke”. Eddie pulls the cord as far as it could stretch so he could sit down at the kitchen table. It felt like a conversation he would have to sit for, otherwise, he would pace back and forth. “Hello to you too, how was work? Great thanks for asking. Been up to much? Not really- ” Steve fake laughs. “Yeah I get it sorry, it’s just y/n is important to me”. Well, that felt like a slap to in face, he knew that. Everyone knew that. He didn’t appreciate being treated like he was dumb by someone he would have called a close friend only a few weeks ago. He hadn’t done anything wrong so why was he getting ambushed? “You two have a history, and I don’t know if it’s a good idea for you two to be friends”. Eddie's leg uncomfortable shaked under the table, “I can't win with you either I'm too mean or I'm too friendly. What do you want me to do?”

Steve tried to stutter out a response, not sure of what he was asking of Eddie. “I get that… it’s just… it’s just…she’s been through a lot”. Eddie's leg shakes more “I know which is why I’m trying to be nicer” he wished he still had the joint right now. “You didn’t care before, why do you care now? Is this some stupid plan to get revenge?”. Whenever it came to you, Steve would get over-protective, and say the most ridiculous things. Eddie had done nothing wrong this time and yet he was still getting told off. He slammed his fists on the table and stood up unable to control his legs. “Jesus if I’m such a bad guy why have you let me around your daughter? If I’m so bad why are we friends?” The insecure side of Eddie wanted a response, wanted to be told he was being dramatic that of course they were friends. Steve wanted to say that but was too stunned to speak. “Fuck I was just a placeholder. You know I wondered when she came back if I would get replaced but I should have known. Me and you were never gonna be friends. I was just a stand in. I didn’t even make you choose but you always chose her. I think you forget she didn’t just leave me, she left you too. I wonder how long until she gets sick of us again and leaves”. Eddie knew he had hit a nerve when he was met with silence. He didn’t need to say anything else but he couldn’t help himself, why not put an extra nail in the coffin of Steve and his relationship? “You act like you are her protector but you didn’t protect her from that breakdown did you?” A low blow from Eddie he knew that, but he said words that he knew would hurt Steve most.

A bang followed by mumblings of Nancy could be heard through the receiver. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Steve had punched a hole through a wall. “Maybe you’re right maybe we could never be friends because I would never be friends with someone responsible for my best friend trying to kil” the phone hung up. Kil- what did that mean? Surely not kill? Kill what? Kill who? Yourself? No. You wouldn’t? He guessed a breakdown could lead to that. But not you. Never you. Steve was just trying to get to him. The men knew each other well, he was just using his weakness like Eddie had used Steve’s. The words meant nothing surely. Rage started filling his body, along with fear and anxiety. He needed to get it out. To curse out the world. Steve. You. Himself. He flipped the table in front of him but it wasn’t enough. So he destroyed everything in his sight but none of it was enough. None of it helped. None of it answered his questions.

A/n: I hope you enjoyed this. Yikes Steve and Eddie’s relationship has really gone sour :( I liked that I didn’t just have to write y/n and Eddie arguing/hating each-other for once.

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[blindaysblogforturtles]

Splinter.

So, Bishop gets real mad cuz our boi JY0B2 has been behaving like a maniac and refusing orders ever since he went MIA for 3 days and like, are you even aware of how much money he spent on this motherfucker? How much time he invested in turning his mind into mush?? Only for this dumbass with a NUT for a brain get all fussy all over again??? It's diving him crazy. Not happy like, at ALL. He talked back, questioned orders, and even flat out refused to obey basic commands like, I don't know, eat your fucking ration??? To avoid dying??? It was honestly embarassing, and the team had to start treating him like a wild horse.

He'd tried everything, from punishing to bargaining, but nothing seems to work. And with his brain being a nut and all, bringing up his family doesn't even have much of an effect anymore. Specially now that they're all dead. Oh yeah, that. I should talk abt that.

When Bishop FINALLY decided to send people to investigate the Hamato case, they were too late. There wasn't anyone in the locations given by subject JY0B2. And the man he claimed to be persecuting his clan told him the same story, but on the inverse so like. Who to believe. It wasn't his problem so Bishop just left it at that and washed his hands of this case. Japan was out of his jurisdiction anyways and he was already busy with America's mystic shit.

So bringing up his fam wasn't an option, and that was one of his only bargaining chips. He could try and put the hitman through mind conditioning again as a disciplinary action but. The paperwork. Ugh. Not to mention the adaptation time after that.

Meanwhile having a rat as his best friend gave human Yoshi a purpose. He saved little treats for his rodent friend whenever he got fed and told it all about what was in his mind. Which was, admitedly, not much; he was confused most of the time. But it was nice having someone to whisper sassy commentary of daily life to.

At some point human Yoshi remembered he had a soul. Well, half of it. But he still had his spirit whole! And wondered if he could give a piece of it for Yoshi the rat. Because it'd be more fun if his best friend could talk to him aside from understanding. So he did that, gave a small part of himself for the lil rodent. And it worked! He could understand its squeaks!

Yoshi the rat gaining self awareness, picture taken within the process:

Yoshi the rat felt self awareness for the first time in his entire 1 and a half years of existence. He existed and was perceived. Wowzies. Holy shit, his human looked like crap. Grooming him would be hard work due to his size, but he was persistent. The human chuckled. They'd talk after missions, after experiments, after disciplinary sessions. Yoshi the rat was worried for his friend, so he often spied on that Bishop guy to see if he could find a way to help his human.

The guy was talking about mystic energy harnessing, and Yoshi was surprised when he understood what that meant. Huh. Curious. Well, it was bad. Meant his human would scream and cry again, maybe die, so he better get him the fuck out.

Yoshi's human was stubborn and didn't want to leave, saying that was all he knew, but Yoshi knew better. He had a family waiting for him, far deep in a forest, where sunlight was soft and air was pure. The human seemed to vaguely recall something like that, so he did as Yoshi told him and ran away. Wasn't easy with all the security, but they managed. They hid in the sewers and Yoshi was so very happy to see his family again.

They weren't like him, not since he changed, but he loved them all the same. For a while, things were good. Yoshi the rat and family brought Yoshi the human food and warmed him in cold nights and groomed him if he was too dirty. He started to remember things again, like how to use his power for something other than killing. To nurture and raise, even if it was just a bunch of rats. And day by day Yoshi remembered more bits and pieces of better days, and told those stories to his human, who in turn became more and more enthusiastic about said family. He decided he wanted to find them, to learn why he wasn't there with them.

And because of that Yoshi remembered fire and blood and loss. And he didn't tell his human about those things because he had just started to act like a person again, this would destroy him. But his efforts were in vain as the human wasn't as easy to fool anymore. He decided to go back to the EPF and demand answers, which like, horrible idea, period. But he escaped once, he could escape again right?

WRONG. Bishop got them – yes, them. He finally took notice of the little pest talking the human's shoulder and got interested. Somehow it was as if JY0B2's fragmented mind had been planted into a little creature. Instead of restarting any process of brainwashing Bishop gave the human and the rat to the scientists to figure out what the fuck happened and how to replicate it.

They tried many things, for a long time before the first and only success happened. The human felt a shift in his own soul when his powers were pushed out of little rat Yoshi, causing his small heart to stop.

Hamato Yoshi awakened in wrath, with thirst for revenge. He broke his bounds and killed everything in his sight until he found his friend. He infused everything he had into the rat.

He didn't have a family to return to, a clan to save, a reason to exist. He'd stained his hands in so much blood he would never be able to redeem himself. So he did what he did best and destroyed everything related to the organization that caused him so much pain. Just like with his clan, the destruction of the Earth Protection Force happened through fire and blood.

Unbeknownst to him, however, this rampage didn't affect only those who caused him pain, but also those who were victims very much like himself. Dr. Baxter Stockman, who had been serving as a scientist against his will in a project with a mysterious substance, was inches of completion and possible freedom (haha, he thinks. Boy was about to either get unsubscribed from life or have his contract unwillingly renewed to the EPF). Rat Yoshi's essence had been pulled out in order to be transfered into the creatures Stockman had been working with, as the ooze would amplify the natural potential of creatures and the more potential they had, more would be amplified. When Yoshi the human broke in, the carefully constructed environment got contamined and the process didn't get to finish. One of the ooze samples fell onto rat Yoshi just as Bishop, injured and hanging on by a thread, managed to shoot human Yoshi.

His soul, already broken, split into many splinters, the biggest of them claimed by the rodent, who scattered away from danger with renewed energy.

The missed shots landed on the doctor himself, on some of his experiments, and in flammable substances. An explosion was imminent, everyone had to evacuate. The rat managed to flee.

And after long days of agonizing pain as his bones and organs slowly rearranged, he was something new. He wasn't Hamato Yoshi, and wasn't Yoshi the Rat anymore.

He named himself Splinter.

[cybertron-after-dark]

Hiiii could i request megatron x bulkhead headcanons, either prime or animated, if thats ok 🙏

You are based as fuck.

We're gonna go with animated just because I think the chemistry is a liiittle better in my personal opinion.

I'm not gonna lie this one kinda got outta hand. Runaway moderate angst train. If you wouldve rather gotten something lighthearted and fluffy, just shoot me another ask and I can do that too.

-Bulkhead takes awhile to get past the whole incident where Megatron kidnapped him. Threatening his friends like that was not very cash money of him, and Bulky holds a mean grudge. Its gonna have to be a good long while after the conflict dies down for them to be okay with being anything more than just tense ex-enemy acquaintances.

-If a truce happens, in the very least between team prime and team megs, it's likely that a part of that will be rebuilding what got destroyed in the battles, forcing the two to interact. Megatron tries to be amicable. Bulkhead's having none of it.

-xXx-

"Bossbot may be buying your whole guilt ridden bleeding spark schtick, but I know better. You're bad news. Always have been, always will be. You just act like the good guy and hope people forget all the awful things you did if you feel sorry for yourself enough. So rebuild all you want. Act like you care. I know deep down, the only thing you really want is to destroy."

"...You aren't entirely off the mark, Autobo- Bulkhead. I am... Not a good person. I never was. And no matter what I do, it seems I cannot change what I am: Manipulative, violent, aggressive, I simply don't know how to be anything else. But... I had always hoped if I cannot be good, I can at least put all the bad in me to use towards a good cause."

"Yeah? Well some good you did starting a slaggin' war."

"Oh, Bulkhead... We didn't start it."

-xXx-

-One history lesson later, and Bulkhead is still massively skeptical and still pretty angry over every shitty thing the decepticons did, but he's seeing it less as black and white. Especially after corroborating with ratchet to make sure Megatron wasn't just making shit up about Warframes being mistreated.

-Bulkhead catches himself actually feeling pretty bad for what Megatron went through. He knows first servo what it's like being written off as nothing but a force of destruction. It doesn't excuse what he did, but he can't help himself from being sympathetic.

-Megatron genuinely wants Bulkhead to see his own worth and potential. To Megs, Bulkhead is this sweet, pretty, young thing that's been told time and time again by Autobot society that he's unintelligent, oversized, unappealing, and only good for breaking stuff, when every single one of those things is untrue. And it breaks his spark a little seeing the guy beat himself up when he's got so much to offer.

-It takes Bulkhead a long time to drop his guard at all around Megatron. At least a few months after their initial conversation. But when they do start talking, Bulky comes to the very conflicting conclusion that when Megatron isn't being a ruthless tyrant, he's actually... Pretty normal? He's just a guy. Classy, sarcastic, witty, actually pretty funny when e wants to be. All things considered, he's good company. And he can't really deny that the guy has quite a bit of charm.

-the bot-con truce is... Tentative. Tense. Both sides do what's agreed upon and they don't interact beyond what's necessary, for the most part. Nobody's really tried to, until Bulkhead asked Megatron to hang out on Dinobot Island after their shift fixing an overpass starscream crashed into. Needless to say, Megatron was extremely confused, but so endeared he couldn't say no.

-xXx-

"Why Bulkhead, just the two of us alone on a deserted island? It almost seems as though you're asking me on a date."

"W-well I mean- it was just supposed to- I mean i- ...did you want it to be a date?"

-xXx-

-from then, they start seeing each other pretty regularly, though they try to keep it low key. Don't need the team asking too many questions. Bumblebee would be insufferable about it if he found out Bulkhead's been dating the resident warlord.

-Megs actually takes interest in Bulkhead's art. The visual arts have been a core part of Decepticon culture since the Great War started, although usually with much bleaker themes than what Bulkhead makes. It's a nice reminder to him that self expression can be soft, and sweet, rather than a grim reminder of something awful.

-Bulkhead thinks it's really funny that Megatron doesn't know all that much about Earth, and what he does know is taken pretty far out of context. His attempts to introduce the con to videogames have been comedy gold. The big scary Decepticon tyrant can't figure out the controls half the time, and the pokemon type matchup chart is entirely beyond him.

-Bulkhead has gotten Megatron with Deez Nuts at least twice.

-Megatron loves that Bulkhead is so round and cuddly, especially because his Autobot status make him pocket sized to a bigass Warframe like megs. He's very friend shaped, perfect for picking up and snuggling up to, which leaves Bulkhead, invariably, flustered as all hell every time.

-its not a perfect relationship by any means. There's trust issues on both sides. Bulkhead is still always nervous Megatron might go back to being evil, and Megs is always worried whether this sweet Autobot might give into fear and shun him. They can both be stubborn as mules when they want to be, so it takes them a long time to make up after fights. But at the end of the day, Megatron has enough life experience to know letting petty squabbles tear someone away from you is a horrible thing, and Bulkhead went into the relationship knowing Megatron is flawed and often frustrating. They make it work.

-For all Megatron talks of letting Bulkhead see how wonderful he really is, Bulkhead wishes Megatron would practice what he preaches. The con seems to really believe his very existence is a sin he has to atone for, that he has to fix the universe just to make up for being in it. His insistence that he's an awful person is a self fulfilling prophecy, and bulk just wishes he could see that for what it is.

[celestie0]

HALLO ELLIE!!! proud to say ive successfully managed to move on from my situationship! hope u don’t mind me rambling about this guy.

let’s call him f since that’s his initial. F and I have been friends since primary sch, he eventually had to move because his dad passed away. Anyways, two years ago we started talking again because his family visited mine. Long story short, things were complicated because we had been flirting a lil bit and he also said that ‘if you flirt with other guys, I’ll starve myself’ which Icked me so BAD. He did apologised .Last year, I ‘happy birthday’ed my way into his life and started talking again because I really did miss him, he’s my childhood best friend after all. After like two weeks? I don’t remember anymore💔 He told me he loved me and i was happy to say it back to him. (I was such a fool😭) I remember being giggly and all. On 23rd August we got into a fight because we planned to meet up and i said to him ‘okay I’m nervous. I don’t think I wanna meet up’ which made him mad. MIND YOU! we were in planning stages. i didn’t cancel on him on the day itself! I had lots of things going on at that time so him just casually saying I was PLAYING him made me so upset. He had the cheek to tell me ‘ily’ because honestly I hate when people start getting all affectionate after a fight. I hope you get it😭 the next month went okaaay until 23rd sep. (23 is like a curse at this point💔💔) I confronted him on why he hasn’t been saying ‘ily’ back it may seem something small but I hate not getting it back like excuse me? AND HE SAID TO ME ‘my ex was the only one who managed to make me feel loved’ I CRIED SO BADDD!!!! how could he say that after everything I’ve did for him. smh. yada yada things went on and in dec we stopped talking. I really did liked talking to him and all but it was too much. There was certain moments where I felt like he was just using me cause I wanted him. The times where we sexted (no nudes were exchanged, just texts.) though we did call because he wanted to hear me moan. not my proudest moments, I don’t wanna be begging for a guy’s attention again. I genuinely loved him with my whole heart :((

IM SO SORRY 4 RAMBLING ON!!!! I needed to let this out so badly 🤒❤️‍🩹 love u sm ellie

— frank ocean anon

hiii my love <3 omg GASP i’m so proud of uuu situationships are hell on earth i hope you feel at peace now!!

PLS YOU’re SO REAL FOR GETTING THE ICK OVER THAT!! i swear jealousy is only attractive w fictional men ✋🏼😭 it is NOT a cute look for actual men slsldkfjfh imo its a lil overbearing n strange haha

aww thats sad hun u guys are like childhood best friends so i imagine it was still tough not speaking :(( WOW he said i love youu n you said it backk. its ok bb if it was a happy thing in the moment then it can stay that way in your memory regardless of how stuff turned out in the end :”) be kind to yourself <3

ahhh yea thats 🚩 the whole getting mad cuz you cancelled…and no i totally get that, i hate that sort of “love bombing” after a fight, it just comes off as in-genuine. thats so valid n i relate

OH MY GOSH THE COMMENT ABOUT HIS EX ☹️☹️ WHY WOULD HE SAY THAT…some things you should just keep to your fuckin self. thats awful im sorry love 🥲🥲 you deserve SO much better than that

it’s okkk bb, you knew him a long time n even apart from relationship/situationship, there was still a friendship there too. you can really love someone but also realize theyre bad for you, those two can coexist. i’m so proud of you for realizing you deserve better than someone who makes you feel like you’re being used! no one should ever feel that way. take it easy bb but truuuly truly truly time will heal <3 chin up!! so many wonderful experiences out there for you still my dear

- much loveee, ellie ☁️

[osp-originals]

Sympathy Sick

TW: emeto

———

It was 11 PM on a normal Tuesday night and Raj was getting ready to go to bed. He saw that the sign was flipped to “occupied” on the shared bathroom door in his dorm.

Oh, Julian must be in there.

He decided to brush his teeth, not thinking anything of it.

A minute later, he heard a loud retch come from the other side of the door. He froze. His stomach was already turning from the sound.

Oh god, is he getting sick?

Raj tried to spit out the toothpaste so he could get out of there as soon as possible, but he was too late. His roommate heaved loudly again and liquid splashed into the toilet.

Raj barely had time to brace himself on the counter before a bit of his dinner made its way up his throat and into the sink. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to think about it.

Julian vomited again and Raj’s stomach followed, bringing up a mouthful of sick. It sounded like Julian was throwing up everything he ever ate with the intensity and length of the splashes.

Jesus Christ. I hope I don’t catch whatever he’s got.

The thought of himself being that sick made his stomach jump. His roommate let out a sickly burp and then more liquid. Raj puked up another puny amount of his food in response.

Julian, please, just stop, he thought. He would never say that out loud, though, because of course, that’s not how sickness works. He can’t stop any more than I can. Wait, can I…?

The next time Julian threw up, Raj tried to forcefully stop himself from following suit. He successfully swallowed down the liquid that came up his throat at first, but then it just came back with a vengeance seconds later. The second gag was much more violent and painful than the first and brought up much more vomit.

That didn’t work at all. I guess if it was that easy, no one would ever be sick.

“Raj?” Julian said from the bathroom.

“Yeah?” Raj responded.

“Are you sick, too?”

“No, I just…” He paused, knowing that even saying these words out loud would turn his stomach. “I always throw up when somebody else throws up.”

“Oh, you’re a sympathy puker?”

He had never heard it in those words before, but now that he did, it definitely applied.

“I guess so.”

“Well, sorry,” Julian apologized.

“It’s okay. I just wish you would’ve told me you were going to… y’know… so that I could stay in my room.”

“I’ll try to text you next time, if it happens again.”

“Thanks. Are you okay, by the way?”

“Yeah. I mean, I feel like shit, but I’m fine.”

I sure get that.

He washed the evidence down the drain and went back to his bedroom, hoping and praying Julian wouldn’t be sick again. Just in case, he texted him:

Let me know if you need anything.

Luckily, it turned out to be a one-time thing and he didn’t need anything.

———

Yeah this is really short lol. Just a fun intro to Raj as a sympathy puker tbh.

Here are some notes/background about Raj if you’re interested:

He and Julian have known each other since high school, but they weren’t very close in high school. They happened to have a couple of classes together in their first year at Uni, and since he was the only person Julian knew in those classes, Julian talked to him and they became better friends. Raj’s parents immigrated from India when he was in preschool and Julian’s parents immigrated from South Africa before Julian was born, so they bonded over their shared experiences with that. They started rooming together in their second semester because they got along so well.

This interaction is set in their fist semester rooming together, so their second semester at Uni.

Julian is now one of the few people Raj is comfortable talking to at Uni. Raj doesn’t talk much to or around people he isn’t close friends with, but he talks freely to Julian. He has always been a pretty socially anxious person, and he has undiagnosed selective mutism.

Usually Raj would avoid sick people like the plague (literally), but he cares enough about Julian that he wants to make sure he’s okay no matter what. He’ll still avoid him when he’s actually throwing up though. He’s not emetophobic, but ofc he doesn’t enjoy throwing up.

They’re both straight btw.

[fdrsamericanflagduckfloaty]

- - - - - - - - -

i compiled angst abt TR + his sons because i. ... i got bored. and because it'll help me w/ writing angst when i have all of this in one spot.

im just posting it w/ a specific tag so i can find it when i need it kslkskd this post is also kinda long btw

--

TR himself - batshit insane

-

Okay so this mf has enough angst to fill. An entire. Like. Pool. But we'll start w/ the most known:

His wife & Mother dying on the same day just hours apart.

We all know how it goes but if you don't, his first wife, Alice Hathaway Lee, and his mother, Mittie Bulloch, died just hours apart on Valentine's Day, 1884.

And at the Funeral:

There's going to be... a lot more photos. The grieving is so intense I can't leave it out at all.

Doesn't this sound like an unhealthy coping mechanism? TR never really got the grip of coping healthily, but this isn't the earliest example, which I'll touch on soon.

It's beyond reasonable - and in fact correct - to assume he never entirely, fully got over Alice Lee. He never mentioned her again. Not on record, at least, and certainly not once in his autobiography. He mentioned his mother a handful of times at most. And this is where I say this part makes me feel nauseous because of how damn sad it is.

TR, as I said, never came to terms with Alice's death, and he never would. Over decades maybe he could handle a brief sorrowful thought of her, maybe a second. But I don't think anybody would be wrong in assuming he still could never truly talk of her. It sounds sad, but it's true. He never handled grief well.

I do think this is one of the periods of TR's life that you hear of but, never seeing it mentioned again, really enforces that he wanted her gone. He couldn't stand the thought of her. Which... do. Do you see the therapy that he desperately needed?

WELL if you thought this was it then you were wrong!!

His father died when he was nineteen. TR idolized his father beyond all else. He had a massive portrait of the man in his office and he always wondered what his father would do in times of strength during his presidency.

And TR admitting fear is a very, very rare thing, because you don't. Actually see it often. He'd be more likely to admit to a crime.

So for his father to die, and not being able to see him before (TR couldn't arrive in time), really, really left its mark on him. This was also around the time he had a spat with his then-close-friend, future-second-wife Edith in a small summer house. His father's death left him grieving and the argument left him. Well. Seething, for lack of a better word.

TR was actually able to acknowledge his father. That was the only difference.

But he also needed extreme help by the time Valentine's Day 1884 rolled around, and I am not alone in that thought.

I'd also like to mention that the argument I referenced above is never going to be explored beyond what is known: They argued, it was intense, and it ended any romantic prospects between them for years. Other than that? We have abso-fucking-lutely nothing. Nothing to go off of. Neither ever told anyone what they argued about. All Edith said was that Theodore 'wasn't very nice', and TR just said they both had tempers. Other than that once again? Nothing.

He also experiences even more grief later but we'll touch on that later.

TR almost lost Edith, as well, during 1898 when the Spanish-American war was ramping up to its climax of official war.

It did not get better. As you'll see, this was also when Ted was put under suffering, aswell.

*Cut because the rest is in Ted's section*

Even though it ended well, TR was likely getting flashbacks (or intense reminders) of what happened with Alice Lee just 14 years ago. And in those 14 years I'm very sure he wasn't fully done suppressing the memory. Being put under such strain twice doesn't do well on a person, nor their mental stability.

And now I'd like to mention: TR possibly having bipolar disorder.

Listen I'm not going to go in detail because I have before (probably, if not just send an ask that tumblr hopefully wont eat), but basically, traumatic experiences when he was so young, multiple injuries, almost dying countless times when he was young as he had asthma, and never truly coping, and honestly just naturally, he could have had Bipolar Disorder.

I find this theory interesting and it's very believable. He could be all over the place, smiling and ecstatic, swinging his limbs around, and then the next, quiet, gloomy. Suppressed. He never calmed down enough unless it was serious. Now, it could've just been his natural personality and behavior. But he was reckless, bold, daring, a risk-taker, and didn't ever really care about dying as much as he should have.

TR ignored his doctor basically telling him "DO NOT DO EXTREME SHIT. IT WILL HURT YOUR HEART. BADLY." and proceeded to be the goddamn president. Don't even mention climbing mountains and tough sports and putting himself under immense strain.

Hell I'd say it's worthy of a book (albeit short or not who knows), but there isn't one so far (as I know of) that focuses on that theory and goes in depth.

(But I do consider it a mild headcanon of mine for NATM purposes because I genuinely think it's something to consider, and hey, if you get memories, why wouldn't that pass over? Or I just like angst idk skkdnfgk)

Edith also suffered two miscarriages during the White House years, so the trauma of losing two unborn children must've hit pretty hard too.

i could go on even more about this sad meow meow bastard but lets move on. (Oh, the trauma I mentioned we'll touch on later, we will touch on near the end in Quentin's section.)

2. Ted // aka the one who was sort of forced to be the best

(also this mf was IMPOSSIBLE to search for. 'Ted' brought up words w/ -ted at the end and it took me so damn long to filter those results out)

This one below is in the White House. The two above are from 1898.

(the proudness is mildly concerning)

The 'nervous exhaustion' and migraines Ted ended up getting were because he was being pushed so hard at such a young age. I tried to find the book that had it (with no luck) but his mother admits that TR pushed Ted far more than the other children. Whether it was because Ted was his eldest son or his first or his namesake or all of the above I don't know, but after that pledge, TR doesn't seem as hard on Ted again in the rest of the Trilogy this lies in.

I also tried to find this next part with once again no luck. However I'll explain the best I can:

When Ted was in college, he got sick with a very violent case of pneumonia, to the point where he was put to bedrest. TR may've had a hard attitude to sickness but he came down to be by his son's bedside and the concern must have been intense. Ted's mother also came down and eventually Alice did too when she was allowed (they actually considered each other like siblings, probably some of the closest between the six with only a 3/2 year age difference). Ted did get better, but it was still worrying in the moment.

I can't find the copy (when I can I'll probably edit this post), but in another book, during WWI, Eleanor (Ted's wife, not FDR's, it's. It's confusing I know) confided in TR that Ted worried if his father was proud of him. TR was particularly surprised, but he told Eleanor that yes, of course he was proud of Ted. He called the war he fought in (Span-Am War) a bow and arrow affair compared to what Ted was fighting in -- a war with bombs and motherfucking aerophysics.

So in Ted you have the 'Heir who's really stressed' part of being a Victorian kid of someone who may or may not need lots of therapy and already have daddy issues (because he did. and i am right.)

OH!! FDR and Ted also had this weird rivalry and Ted basically disowned his ass and called him a maverick. Republican tings ykwim- FDR kept Ted's war moves from newspapers to stunt his cousin's political career (Which is a dick move), but even in the end, FDR presented the Medal of Honor to Ted's widow and admitted that TR would've been the proudest of Ted.

-

3. - Kermit: really sad guy

Okay Ted was fucking impossible to search for but Kermit is not thankfully

Kermit doesn't seem to be as ... optimistic or loud as the other kids, as you can tell.

*in reference to Harvard, where all four of the boys attended. FDR was also slighted for like the rest of his life bc he wasn't allowed in a club that Ted and Kermit got into lmao i just find that funny*

Kermit was also 'easy to bruise' and 'adored' by his mother but he was still... uh. Well. In short terms, traumatized as fuck and had PTSD that goes beyond any realm I've ever fucking seen.

(I WILL be writing fic for this)

I guess you could say it's sort of depressingly similar to TR and his own brother, Elliott, who also died an alcoholic and with multiple attempts of su!c!de. Kermit is the younger brother, Ted is the older. TR was the older, Elliott was the younger. Ykwim?

Basically if Kermit the Frog is memey and funny then this Not-Frog-Man is tragically the opposite and he also. Really. Really needed therapy isn't that a running theme at this point though-

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4. Archie - mischievous. that's it

-

Not much I can find on Archie in an angsty way, which I think is actually good for my heart because the Edmund Morris TR Trilogy did not do wonders for my mental stability

The most prevalent thing I can find is this:

Archie--born in 1894--would be 15, so a 15 year old struggling for dear life and terrifying the shit out of his family. Doesn't sound good huh?

But!! Besides that Archie was the only American soldier to be disabled in BOTH World Wars (The three remaining sons (Quentin died in WWI as we know this) all fought in WWII. Fighting spirits indeed) and because of the SAME injury in the SAME leg. He was quieter but still mischievous and energetic, and he got along best w/ Quentin and they rarely quarreled. I will admit, I don't see much about Archie. Quentin obviously is well-spread around, Ted is aswell, Kermit partially, Alice fucking entirely. Ethel and Archie though, I dont see much of.

ALSO!!

*these two paragraphs follow each other, they're just on separate pages. the first paragraph follows into the next, so you can read it normally without missing anything.*

I forgot that Archie basically got really, really unhealthy during the War. His arm was worryingly limp and his leg was practically fucked. Not only that but he lost his closest brother in the war, so you can imagine how he felt.

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5. Quentin - FAVORITE CHILD there i said it

-

okay. you want angst? like, a lot? this one. this boy is your ticket to sad depressive trains of thought.

Quentin was also the most like his father and very much a risk taker, so if he lived long enough, he very well could have had a very successful political career (or in whatever he chose to go into.).

However, Quentin's death was a lasting pain for TR (who died less than a year later) and it's said that Quentin's death not only hastened the then-late-50's year old man, but that TR died of heartbreak over his youngest's death. More angst after the pictures teehee

'He' is TR. He could be vaguely cryptic in matters of worry and family. Remember this

He paces when his brain is going a million miles an hour. I actually forgot this small detail but I'll have to use it sometime tbh

this part just makes me sad even though its almost been a year since i reread it like 20 times (more on that in a second.)

The silent grieving and absolute devastation seems far more powerful.

Now, getting specific:

Yes, it was said, as I may've already mentioned, that the boy in TR died when Quentin was devastatingly taken out on July 14th in the summer of 1918. He'd already suffered losing his father (his idol. this is where his own daddy issues come from) and losing his first wife AND mother (who he adored, too) in less than 12 hours. so now, to lose his youngest son, his boy, his child? Oh dear.

So combine the fact TR already needed lots of therapy and this new, heartbreaking death, and you've got one HELL of an angst supply.

It's worth remembering TR really just said 'fuck it. beat the memory until it's too dead to throb' and thought of it as a coping method.

... his 'method' is what we'd now call unhealthy. He thought it was so fucking fine that he even recommended it to a friend (or his sister? I forget tbh) who was just recently widowed. He was not taught healthy coping/healing methods and it showed. Strongly.

TR also felt tremendous guilt for his sons getting hurt (and one dying) in WWI. He'd always glorified war to himself and his kids and he'd instilled in them that a man is only a man once he's fought in battle. Well, no, that's not true. But in the Oyster Bay line of Roosevelts, you either fought in battle when you got the chance or you were a coward for denying it. Hell, take this quote from before Ted was even born:

And that is JUST on college games. What about war?

Of course, even if he didn't push his sons into WWI, they were bound to go in eventually. His sons all shared his glory-seeking and they would put themselves in harm's way just to get their father's attention sometimes, as I mentioned with Ted truly wondering if--even after fighting in a damn war, getting gassed, and shot, and nearly blinded, AND suffering almost a mental breakdown before he was even a teen--his father was proud of him.

So not only was Quentin's death enough guilt, his sons all got hurt in a war he not only pushed for in general, but he pushed for them to enter as soon as they could. Afterall, if he couldn't fight in the war at 58 with horrible health, then his younger and healthier sons could.

All in all they ALL needed therapy and there is a resounding amount of angst all around the entire family circle. If you read this I am very much sorry.

(I can also probably get the PDFs I used to search for these. I had the physical copies but those were library copies so uh. Not anymore. I can't find the other two books either so some parts WOULD have been pictures instead of text descriptions, but oh well.)

P.S i swear im not insane