#its why i had to leave that label behind and its so so much better now but i cant go back

[trckstergods]

.

[felibrary]

"i love you, i'm sorry"

pairing: aventurine x reader (gender neutral)

synopsis: aventurine doesn’t know how to handle people being affectionate to him. so eventually, just as everyone leaves him, he’s become the one who leaves the person he cherishes the most—you—before you’re able to leave him first. so then, why is he now in front of your home, asking for another chance?

wordcount: 1.2k | content & warnings: unestablished relationship, situationship 101, aven has commitment issues (surprise), angst if you squint, hurt/comfort , mentions of aven's past (kind of) ; ficlet

tags: @eccentric-planet HERE IT ISSSS!!! (after waiting for like a week or so oops)

author's note: i wrote like half of this during biology, history and french class LMFAO

in his world, love leaves behind traces. 

be it dejection that gnaws at him, and wraps his heart in sorrow or your lips that press against him, finding home in his scarred skin. all of the little things that shaped him into being—they all track back to you.  

gradually, over time, with every gesture of affection exchanged, he fell. his once sleepless nights were cured by lying beside you, and eventually, he peacefully dozed off. that is until morning arrived, the sun greeting him as her rays seeped through the curtains, which made him rise.

alas, bathing in bliss only lasted for so long. the love that streamed through his veins and was pumped into his heart, was daring to spill; aventurine knew that confessing his love to you would come with its consequences. there were rules he set up for himself, but after all, he is no more than a pathological sinner—an individual long forsaken by the gods that reign this world—a helpless soul.

despite harboring feelings for you, he kept those blooming emotions to himself; confined in the depths of his heart. 

so as much as he loved you, it hurt just as much to let you go; leave you behind with no words that offered an explanation for his leaving. 

aventurine’s foundation was built upon being alone—disappearing without leaving a trace has always been in his nature. having to leave and being left behind was nothing new. he was a natural.

eventually, the traces you left behind, etched into his very being, washed away.

kakavasha was a lonely child. the word company has always felt foreign on his tongue, at least when he had to say it aloud in a language other than his own.

presumably, that’s why he felt strangely weak in your hold. how you always persistently, almost desperately, buried your nails into his skin and held him tight—not wanting to let go as if you knew that he’d leave one day; silently slip from your grasp.

it was to be expected that you wouldn’t reach out anymore—he made you leave. 

(it’s for the better he thinks. after all, if you would’ve marched further into his heart you would’ve seen what was hidden in the depths of it—someone with no strong ambitions, and there’d be no point of return. aventurine wouldn’t make a good lover, he’s both too selfish and selfless no in between.)

there hasn’t ever been a verbal confirmation that the two of you were in a relationship. everyone around him, including you just assumed that the two of you were together

but he can’t blame them. all the spare items in his apartment, ranging from a mere toothbrush to items like skincare or using the same candles as you, that’d help you feel more at home. arriving at work together and subtly flirting in the elevator when others were around or kissing in the copy room, weren’t casual things that friends did.

aventurine thought it was easier that way, simply because the thought of putting labels on your relationship felt strange. to him, it felt like a heavy shackle bound to his feet, preventing him from being free.

so why is he now standing at your front door, waiting like a prisoner on death row for their judgment to come?

there’s a faint squeak as you open the door and aventurine shoves his left hand into the pocket of his coat, fiddling with the flower-shop bill. 

before aventurine knows it; and can fully comprehend the solemnity of the situation, you stand in front of him, as beautiful as ever.

“hi,” aventurine breathes out, and only now does he realize how much he’s missed seeing you. instead of answering your gaze drifts over his figure and his surroundings.

he feels hot under your watchful gaze, his body suddenly heating up, and clothes sickly sticking to his skin. “so? what’s your business?” your eyes land on the bouquet of lilies and gardenias he's gripping tightly,  slightly wrinkling the wrapping paper by doing so. 

countless thoughts are running through his head. may i come in? can we talk? i wanted to apologi—

“i love you, i’m sorry.”

his voice croaks and suddenly he feels small. the gut-wrenching feeling of fear that stirred in his stomach whenever you were around made him vulnerable and submissive. it made him bolder—more reckless with his way of words. they twisted and twirled on his tongue, and ultimately something else slipped out. (the truth)

the dismissive sound you make crawls into aventurine’s ears like a parasite creeping on his skin, causing him pain. “you say that after playing a game of push-and-pull with me? aventurine do you hear yourself?” you huff laughingly. “don’t do this to me. i can’t go through this once again,” you express with bitterness in your voice. “you’ll just hurt the both of us.” your tone is meek, but aventurine can hear the strain in your voice and he feels his stomach drop.

he exhales and musters the courage to say something. “i know that this is sudden, moreover, i know that i’ve been beyond horrible to you,” aventurine admits, and he swallows. “i want to apologize. my first apology is that i never apologized sooner.” he diverts his gaze to the ground, head facing the floor like a prisoner being escorted. 

he’s sure that at this point the stems of the flowers he’s bought for you are already kinked from clutching them so hard in his hand. “so, may i come in? i’ll tell you everything. i promise.” aventurine doesn’t dare to look up, at least not yet.

“calling me, whenever you needed me like i’m a pet who listens to every command, whispering sweet nothings into my ear as if you were coaxing me into believing something that was untruthful from the very beginning, and—” frustratedly, you ball your hands into fists. “listen. everything i told you was honest. yes i wasn’t ready for a relationship but that doesn't mean that i didn’t love you.” aventurine forces himself to look up, but immediately regrets it upon seeing your hurt face.

nevertheless, he continues. “i’m still hung up on the past. the thought of being with someone and promising myself to stay with them and committing my time, my life, and my very being scares me. it doesn’t excuse my behavior and actions, no, but i hope that this helps you understand me better.”

“i'm sorry that i didn't confide you in this any sooner. I was scared that you too would leave me. so i thought that if i’d leave first, it wouldn’t hurt as much. but i was wrong, my heart fucking aches when i’m not with you.” he cringes at how fake this sounds. but he’s more bothered about the fact that his heart isn’t only twinging when not with you, but it also might jump out of his ribcage, right here, right now.

you bite down on your bottom lip and contemplate. it's faint and if aventurine hadn’t paid attention, he’d have missed it. the way you mutter dumbass under your breath.” forget it,” you sigh as if reaching your breaking point. “just come in.”

this time, you fully open the door to him and he feels a wave of relief washing over him. “you’ve always been a mystery to me kakavasha.” you whisper, and aventurine’s lips form into a small smile as he trails and follows behind you, into your home.

a mystery, you say?

aventurine makes a promise to himself as he places the flowers into the glass vase you provided him. this time he’d be completely honest with you. about everything and anything.

so here it is — his heart laid bare.

end note: who am i kidding. if he came back to me pleading id also take him back.

also tagging @azullumi because at this point it'd be weird not to do this. i just want to thank you azul. thank you for being an amazing friend. thinking back, i used to have much worse communication skills. avoiding the ones around me or never voicing my problems aloud. but you giving me advice has genuinely inspired and impacted me so much. simply because i wanted to be so much like you cause i looked up to you so much and i still do. and recently those efforts of trying to better my social skills have paid off (kind of). I've become better and more mindful when it comes to people addressing their problems they have with me and thus trying to reflect and change my behavior. but I'm also able to talk about the things that bother me better now, simply because i took your advice. azul you understand me like no other. you take the words out of my mouth and are able to form such beautiful sentences i could never even think of. honestly your way with words is what enamors me the most about you.

© FELIBRARY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

[prime-adeptus]

Uncover

You find yourselves in an unknown territory.

✧ PAIRING: Ramattra x GN!Reader

✦ CONTENT: Ambiguous relationships, not canon compliant, emotional hurt/comfort, no dialogue, non-sexual intimacy. Possibly OOC?? I did my best though q_q ~0,5k words

✧ NOTES: I've been yearning a lot lately 👹

AO3 | Masterlist | @houseofsolisoccasum @interstellar-inn

Could a machine know how to love?

The question rings in your mind once again as you stare into where Ramattra’s eyes would be. Cold fingertips cup the side of your face, caressing your skin with a fondness you haven’t felt since you’d left home. Blood rushes beneath the surface of your cheeks, warming the steel pressed against you just the slightest. He towers over your frame with ease, which would intimidate you any other time, but with him, you don’t feel that way. You feel safe, protected.

It’s hard to think of what he is to you. It’s harder to think of what you mean to him. You’ve lived a life of uncertainty, and moments like these are no different. Somehow, you don’t feel as rigid. There’s no need to put a label on what you have with Ramattra. You know you hold at least some meaning to him, otherwise he wouldn’t have let you stay for this long. He wouldn’t tell you to wait for him to return if you meant nothing. He’s straightforward, though he speaks to you without vitriol.

You suppose you have your teetering the line between machine and human to thank. Even your peers don’t know how to classify you. All you know is that you’re some sort of freak, a misfit, someone so incapable of becoming part of a community no matter how hard they try. You’re too withdrawn yet you talk too much, wearing out whoever you speak to. You’re kind yet you’re too unapproachable, your face stone cold in every happening. Things out of your control led you to become an outcast.

Solitude was all you’d known in your entire life, but the ache for companionship never quite goes away. The desire to be loved as you are feeds into the ache instead of suppressing it. It’s an innate desire for all humans, you think, and it’s one you can’t seem to get rid of. You always question him—asking him why he keeps you around, why he treats you differently, and not once has he ever had an answer for you.

Something burns behind your nose, creeping up to your eyes as tears brim their corners and slide down your cheeks. With trembling hands, you clasp them over his and allow a choked whimper to leave your lips, overwhelmed by every sentiment possible. You try to speak, but your throat closes up and your mind goes blank, forcing you into silence.

That’s fine. He never forces you to talk. He knows how difficult it is to be vulnerable and put into words all your thoughts and feelings, even if speech comes so naturally to him. The quietude that blankets over the both of you is comfortable. The wind whistles in the forests outside and snow falls to the ground, but you can hardly feel the chill in your bones. The cloak he draped over your shoulders is more than enough to shield you from the cold despite its roughness against your skin.

You nuzzle your face into the palm of his hand and sigh. The tempest in your mind won’t quell. It never has. You’ll always question everything again and again just to wind up dissatisfied with the outcome. You know that better than anyone. And you know you’ll eventually have to address whatever your situation with him is, but as you melt into his touch, you wonder if you really have to.

Maybe you don’t need that answer. Maybe it’s fine to let things be as they are.

[cherryssodapop]

Billy Hargrove One Shot: Your Heartbeat Next to Mine

JA PIERDOLEEEE THIS TOOK FOREVER TO WRITE

angst, angst and ANGSTTTT!!!! sO mUCh TENSION oml ishbdvihbf I promise there's a happy ending. LORD this story was a ride.

female!reader

synopsis: Billy loves you but he doesn't know how to deal with it. His insecurities get the best of him and he abandons you. It's okay though cause you guys work through it. You're a feisty bitch though, you don't let him get away with his behaviour... not entirely at least.

your revenge fit at the party

I got a little carried away...hhahhha okhopeyouenjoy-

-

There was something unspoken between you and Billy Hargrove, a tension that seemed to hum in the air whenever you were near him. On the surface, you could call yourselves friends, but even that label felt too simple for whatever this was. The truth was, your connection with Billy defied explanation. Friends don’t make your heart race with a single glance, don’t leave you second-guessing your reflection or whether the shirt you chose might catch their attention. Friends don’t make you obsess over every tiny detail—or purposely choose to test their reaction with a little extra effort.

It was only Billy. Only he could make you so hyperaware of yourself, set your pulse pounding just by standing a little too close. Only he could make you laugh until you couldn’t breathe, sharing moments so raw and real they felt like they belonged to another world. With Billy, you felt safe—your heart felt safe. He was the keeper of your secrets, and you were his. Whatever this was between you, it wasn’t just friendship. It was something deeper, something you couldn’t name but could never ignore.

In turn, Billy made sure you noticed him, even if he wouldn’t admit it. He’d wear just enough cologne that its scent lingered in the air when he walked by, flash his brightest smile, his teeth so white they practically gleamed, or feel his pulse spike when your hands accidentally brushed helping you with a book on the library’s top shelf. Naturally, he insisted on grabbing it for you, throwing in a cocky, "Your short ass couldn’t reach far enough," as if his heart wasn’t racing from the simple touch.

It was unnerving. Billy was never uncertain around girls. He always knew exactly what to say, how to say it, and the tone of voice to use to get his way. It was second nature, and it worked like a charm every single time. But with you? God, for the first time in his life, his brain stalled. His mouth would hang open, and he couldn’t string two coherent words together. It terrified him. And when Billy was uncomfortable, when emotions clawed too close to the surface—he did what he always did: avoid.

Avoid, deflect, evade. Put on the mask, walk away. Find a distraction, wait for the feelings to fade. It had always worked. No one got too close, and he didn’t get hurt. Relationships, real connections—those always crumbled before they began because Billy kept everyone at arm’s length. He told himself it was better that way. He’d been alone his entire life, so why should now be any different?

But then there was you. The second he realized he couldn’t stop thinking about you, it unraveled him. What was it about you? Why did you make him feel so exposed? Why did you leave him fumbling, questioning himself, wanting more in a way that scared him half to death? Billy didn’t have the answers, and it drove him mad. You weren’t like anyone else, and that infuriated and captivated him all at once.

The way you were so genuine with him—so kind—it threw Billy off balance. He could tell there was no hidden agenda behind your kindness; it was just who you were. The way you looked at him with those big, curious eyes had a way of softening something inside him that he didn’t even know was there. And you weren’t just kind—you were strong. Fearless, even. You didn’t hesitate to call him out on his bullshit, no matter how bruised his ego got. You’d lay it all out for him, and though he might roll his eyes in the moment, he appreciated it more than he’d ever admit. Someone had to keep him in check, after all.

You were stubborn, too—a little firecracker who wouldn’t listen to him even if your life depended on it. It made him laugh more often than it frustrated him because, inevitably, you’d figure things out for yourself and come back with that guilty look in your eyes. And every time, without fail, he’d hit you with an "I told you so." That was the rhythm of your friendship: equal parts looking out for each other and creating chaos together. It was a kind of energy Billy hadn’t felt since he left California—a carefree, reckless joy that made him feel like a kid again.

Your bold, unapologetic spirit ignited something in him. You were so unapologetically you, and Billy couldn’t help but admire it. He loved that about you. Loved you. Though he wasn’t sure when it started, or how it happened, he knew one thing for sure: you had a way of making him feel alive in a way no one else ever had.

The moment Billy admitted it to himself—that he loved you—he panicked. Abort. Abort immediately. There was no way this was happening. He couldn’t possibly have feelings for someone, let alone the one real friend he’d managed to make in this godforsaken town. He wasn’t about to ruin that by making things weird. And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

You were beautiful—too beautiful, really. The kind of beautiful that made his chest ache. He’d seen plenty of pretty girls, but none of them compared to you. From the way your eyes lit up when you were excited, to how your hair framed your face, down to the dimples that appeared when your smile stretched just a little too wide. He was a goner, and he hated it. But the heart wants what it wants, and it doesn’t ask for permission.

Reality, of course, had other plans. He knew you were aware of his reputation. How could you not be? He’d been pretty shameless about it, after all. And because of that, he also knew he’d never be enough for you. Not in a million years. Not him—Billy Hargrove, the town’s walking disappointment, his dad’s words forever burned into his mind. He couldn’t give you what you deserved.

But damn, did he wish he could. He wished he could hold you, tuck you close to his chest, and tell you how your eyes sparkled in the sunlight. That you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He clung to that fantasy because it was all he’d ever have.

And that’s why, the day he realized his feelings, he made a decision. He pulled back. Removed himself from your presence. It was easier this way. For you. For him. At least, that’s what he told himself as he let you slip further and further away.

Billy disappeared from your life like a shadow at sunrise, pulling back completely. He began treating you the way he treated the girls he’d hooked up with and discarded, as if you didn’t exist. No glances, no words, not even the faintest nod of acknowledgment. One day, it was as if you were everything, and the next, you were nothing.

You didn’t know why. You tried calling him, catching him between classes, approaching him in the halls, but every time, he brushed past you like you were invisible. It was maddening. You replayed every interaction in your head, trying to pinpoint the moment things went wrong. What had you done to push him away so completely? You hated conflict, especially with him. He was the one person you cared about the most, and now he was gone without a word.

You even worked up the nerve to confront him at his house. Each time, though, Max answered the door with the same confused look and a string of familiar lines.

"He doesn’t want to see you." "I don’t know why either." "He’s been brooding in his room for days." "Yeah, like hell he’ll tell me." "He’s been a bigger dick than usual lately." "Did you guys get into a fight?"

Every time, you’d shake your head and apologize for intruding, only to leave with a heavier heart. It was like trying to climb a wall that only grew higher the harder you tried. His defenses were back up, stronger than ever, shutting you out completely. But why? What had you done to deserve this?

Weeks passed, and the weight of his silence became unbearable. You’d chased answers, dissected every memory, and tried to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces. But you were tired. Whether it was something you did or something he was dealing with, it didn’t matter anymore. The message was clear: Billy had made his choice.

If he’d moved on, maybe it was time you did, too.

-

The full moon hung high, its silver light spilling over Hawkins and casting an ethereal glow on the summer night. You couldn’t remember if it was Tina or Carol who threw the party, but it didn’t matter. The music was loud, the liquor warm in your veins, and for once, all the thoughts that usually clouded your mind were blissfully absent. You were having fun—finally letting loose.

At least, you were until your eyes wandered to the crowded dance floor. And there he was. Billy.

Your stomach dropped like a stone. He was the last person you wanted to see tonight, especially now. He was right in the middle of the floor, tangled up with some girl—Vicky or Cindy or Becky, you didn’t care enough to know her name. Grinding, touching, doing all the things he’d been doing with whoever caught his attention these past few weeks since he’d cut you off. A cigarette hung from his lips, and his cheeks were flushed, a telltale sign of the alcohol coursing through him.

It pissed you off. It really pissed you off. But you had to play it cool. It wasn’t like that between you two. It never was, and as Billy had made abundantly clear, it never would be.

Still, just as you were about to look away, his eyes found yours. Your breath caught, and for a moment, it was as if the world around you stilled. His movements came to an abrupt halt, the cigarette slipping from his lips and landing with a hiss against the girl’s skin—what was her name? Fanny? Mandy? She yelped, storming off in a fit, but Billy didn’t even register her.

Instead, his gaze stayed locked on you. His expression was unreadable, his eyes burning with something you couldn’t quite name. And even though every rational part of you screamed to turn away, to break the connection, you couldn’t. Not yet.

Billy looked at you like he wanted to devour you, and honestly, who could blame him? You looked absolutely stunning. The cheetah-print dress hugged every curve of your body just right, showing off your long, toned legs. Your black leather jacket, adorned with studs, added a rebellious edge that was so quintessentially you. You looked like the kind of rock star MTV would kill to feature, exuding confidence and effortless cool.

The black platform boots you wore gave you a few extra inches, adding to your commanding presence, while your makeup accentuated your features to perfection. Your hair, styled in a flawless blowout, framed your face like a masterpiece. Tonight, you were more than just beautiful—you were a living, breathing work of art.

And Billy wasn’t the only one who noticed. Guys had been sneaking glances at you all night, their eyes lingering a little too long. One of them, in particular, caught your attention—and Billy’s. Steve Harrington. The tension between them was practically palpable, and the way Steve’s gaze lingered on you only seemed to make Billy’s grip on his composure slip further.

Your eyes flicked to Steve, who was off to the side dancing, then back to Billy. Back and forth, your gaze darted between the two, until a mischievous grin crept across your face—the kind of grin you wore when you were about to cause trouble. Billy’s jaw tensed, his blue eyes narrowing as if silently begging you, Don’t you dare.

But his expression only fueled your resolve. With zero hesitation, you slipped through the throng of partygoers, weaving your way toward Steve. He turned as you approached, his signature smile already in place. Before he could say a word, you grabbed his hand, a playful spark in your eyes, and tugged him along behind you.

You led him straight back to where you’d been standing, making sure Billy had the perfect view. If he could play his games, so could you. If he thought he could act like you didn’t matter, well, it was time for him to get a taste of his own medicine. Let him watch. Let him feel it. Because tonight, you weren’t playing by his rules anymore.

“Y/n! You look amazing! Having a good time tonight?” Steve called out over the thumping bass, his grin as easy as ever.

You returned the smile, but there was a hint of something sharper in it—something you’d picked up from Billy. The kind of smile he wore when he wanted to make someone squirm. You didn’t have to look to know he was watching; you could feel the heat of his stare from across the room. Billy Hargrove wasn’t subtle, not when it came to you.

But tonight wasn’t about subtlety. He needed to feel the same ache clawing at you, the same frustration. Otherwise, the knot in your chest wouldn’t unravel.

“Sure am,” you said, stepping closer to Steve, your voice dropping just enough to make it linger. “Looking pretty good yourself, Harrington. Mind if I take a closer look?”

Your hands slid around his neck as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The music shifted, Samantha Fox’s "Touch Me" pumping through the speakers like a soundtrack crafted for your little game.

Steve didn’t hesitate, his hands finding your waist as your hips swayed in time with the beat. The air thickened around you, the crowd blurring into the background. You knew Billy was watching every second, and that’s exactly what you wanted.

You and Steve were close. Too close. Uncomfortably close for Billy’s liking. His jaw tightened, fists flexing at his sides as he watched from across the room. The sight of you with your arms around Harrington made his blood boil.

His left foot twitched forward, instinct begging him to storm over and put an end to whatever game you were playing. But he stopped himself, freezing mid-step. He couldn’t make a scene—not here, not now, not with so many eyes watching. Instead, he stayed rooted in place, his icy blue gaze locked on you.

Alright, pretty girl. You wanted to play the long game? Fine. Billy could play it, too. Patience wasn’t his strong suit, but when the moment called for it, he could summon enough to keep his cool.

You were a brat sometimes, no doubt about it. It infuriated him, sure, but it also thrilled him in ways he didn’t like to admit. He lived for the challenge of putting you in your place, and tonight? Tonight, you were practically begging for it.

Billy smirked, leaning back against the wall with feigned ease. His time would come. And when it did, he’d make sure you remembered exactly who you were dealing with.

As you danced with Steve, your eyes darted to Billy. His gaze was sharp as a blade, cutting through the crowd to you and your intoxicated partner. The intensity in his stare sent a thrill through you—your plan was working.

Deciding to push things further, you tilted Steve’s head back, giving yourself better access to his neck. His hands roamed boldly, brushing over your lower back and grazing your ass. You ignored it, too focused on the next move. Your lips found his neck, and you began sucking, leaving a mark that would be impossible to miss. Steve let out a low hum, his eyes fluttering shut as you worked the patch of skin into a deep purple bruise.

When you were satisfied, Steve leaned in for your lips, but you teasingly caught his lower lip between your teeth, tugging just enough to leave him wanting more. The song ended, the crowd's energy fading as the music shifted to something slower.

Breathless, you locked eyes with Steve, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. But when you glanced back to where Billy had been standing, he was gone.

A flicker of worry danced in your chest. Was he off doing something reckless, or had your plan fallen flat? Either way, you kept your composure, releasing Steve with a parting wink.

“That was fun,” you said, flashing a coy smile. “Catch you later.”

As you walked off, weaving through the crowd, you headed toward the hallway to freshen up. The muffled music faded behind you as you found yourself surrounded by doors, each leading who knew where.

The bathroom had to be close, you thought, glancing at the nondescript doorframes. Before you could decide which to try, a door to your right swung open, and a strong hand grabbed your arm. You barely had time to react before you were yanked inside, the door slamming shut behind you.

Billy.

His grip on your arm was firm, his chest heaving slightly as he leaned in, one hand pinning the door behind you. His intense, angry eyes bored into yours, and the heat of his fury practically crackled in the air.

Your heart raced, but not from fear. His jealousy, the sheer possessiveness in his gaze—it sent a rush through you.

The room was small, a bathroom with a sink to your left and a shower tucked behind it. The dim light from the mirror reflected off Billy’s sharp features, highlighting the tension in his jaw.

It was safe to say your plan had worked. He was pissed. Jealous. And if you were being honest, it thrilled you more than it should have.

“You think you’re real cute pulling that little stunt back there, huh?” Billy’s voice was low, trembling with barely restrained emotion. He tried to sound angry, but his vulnerability bled through. Seeing you with someone else shouldn’t bother him—you weren’t his anymore. Hell, you were never his to begin with. But it hit a nerve he couldn’t ignore.

“Wow, Hargrove. Can’t handle me playing your game—and doing it better too?” you snapped, venom lacing your voice. It was the first time you’d spoken in months, and you weren’t about to hold back. Why should you spare his feelings when he’d done nothing but trample yours?

He released your arm, stepping back, visibly startled by the way you used his last name. “I didn’t realize we were on a last-name basis, Y/L/N.”

“I didn’t realize we were on any basis at all,” you shot back, your voice sharp and unforgiving.

“Three months, Billy. Three fucking months you don't talk to me. You just cut me off, treating me like I’m nothing, like everything we went through together, all the memories we made, meant absolute jack shit to you. And on top of that, you made me feel like I was the one who messed up! Like I did something wrong, and I wasn’t even given the chance to understand, let alone fix it! And now, here you are, locking me in a room and acting like some jealous boyfriend of mine because I was dancing with Steve Harrington!?”

“You did a whole lot more than dance with him,” he snarled, the jealousy in his tone unmistakable.

“Oh, and like you were doing anything less with what’s-her-face—Candy?” Tears blurred your vision as you spat the words. Couldn’t he see? Couldn’t he understand how heartbroken you were? That Steve was just a distraction, not the reason for your pain?

“That’s not her name,” he muttered, his voice softening. He quickly realized that his whole plan to get back at you for earlier was falling apart—of course it was, because there was one huge issue between you two: Billy had cut you off without explanation, and you weren’t going to just let that go.

“Oh, so you even remember her name? Great. Well, why don’t you go cry on her shoulder, then?” You turned to leave, reaching for the door, but Billy slammed it shut and spun you back to face him.

“Y/n, you don’t understand. It’s not like that!” he exclaimed, desperation clear in his voice.

Your eyes narrowed, your tear-streaked face a mixture of anger and disbelief. “Are you serious right now?” you thought to yourself. Your voice was trembling as you tried to steady your breathing.

“Well, since you’re not letting me out of this bathroom anytime soon,” you said, “why don’t you go ahead and explain? I’m all ears.” You hoisted yourself onto the sink counter, crossing your arms and legs, daring him to speak.

Billy stood frozen, his head lowered like a guilty child caught red-handed. His hands fidgeted at his sides, and he avoided your gaze. Only you could unravel him like this, turn the usually unshakable Billy into a nervous wreck.

“Well?” you pressed, your patience wearing thin. “Say something!”

“I didn’t expect to see you tonight,” he finally admitted, his voice quiet. “Especially looking so… well, so you.” His gaze flicked over you, lingering just a moment too long. Even in the middle of this heated exchange, he couldn’t help but think you looked stunning.

You rolled your eyes at the attempted compliment, though a small part of you, deep down, appreciated it. “Don’t think flattery is going to get you out of this.”

“I know it won’t,” he said quickly, cutting you off. “Just… listen, okay? I know I screwed up. Big time. But I—well, you—”

“What? I what, Billy? Why did you leave me?” you demanded, your voice breaking.

“Because I love you!” The words burst out of him before he could stop them.

The room fell silent. You stared at him, stunned, your heart pounding in your chest. Did he really just say that?

“…There, I said it. I love you, I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you this whole time,” he continued, his voice shaking now. “And I know we were just friends, and I’ll admit it, that friendship meant the world to me. But…”

“So instead of talking to me,” you said, stepping off the counter and closing the distance between you, “you just disappeared. You love me, but you choose to fuck around with other women?”

“Because that’s all I’m good for, right?” Billy’s voice cracked, his frustration giving way to despair. “That’s all I’ve ever been good for. You know me, Y/n. You know how I am. I figured… I figured I’d ruin everything if I told you. And I thought… I thought you didn’t feel the same.”

It was heartbreaking to hear, but the weight of his words didn’t surprise you. Billy’s bravado, his sharp tongue, and his cocky smirk—they were all carefully constructed armor, shielding the deep scars his father had left behind. You knew enough about Neil Hargrove to understand that Billy had spent years being told he wasn’t good enough, couldn’t do anything right, would never amount to anything. The man’s words and fists had conditioned Billy to believe he didn’t deserve good things, that his role in life was to destroy or be destroyed.

This wasn’t just about you. It was about years of internalized shame and self-doubt, ingrained in him by a father who had never let him feel worthy of love. To Billy, losing you wasn’t just a fear—it was a foregone conclusion, another thing to fail at, another thing to ruin. So he’d done what he thought was inevitable: he pushed you away before you could leave him first.

You felt your heart ache for him. For the boy who had tried so hard to outrun the shadow of his father’s voice, only to let it guide his every move. And now, standing in front of you, his walls crumbling, he wasn’t the cocky, confident Billy Hargrove the world saw. He was just a boy desperate to be loved but terrified he didn’t deserve it.

Tears filled your eyes again as you cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing against his skin. He leaned into your touch, exhaling shakily, like he’d been holding his breath for months.

“Oh, Billy,” you whispered, your heart softened at his words. All the anger melted away as you pieced it together.. “You ran away because you thought I couldn’t love you back?”

He nodded, too ashamed to meet your eyes. “I know. It’s stupid—”

“You’re not stupid,” you interrupted, your tone firm but kind. Wiping a tear from his cheek. “But you’re a damned fool, Billy Hargrove. And you couldn’t be more wrong.”

His eyes snapped up to meet yours, hope flickering in their depths.

“What are you—”

"I'm saying I love you too, idiot," you manage to say through your tears, a smile breaking through as Billy mirrors your expression. The two of you let out a small, breathless laugh, the absurdity of the moment sinking in. One simple conversation could have avoided all of this—weeks, maybe months, of tension and missteps. But then again, nothing about the way you two loved each other had ever been simple.

"This whole time?" he asked softly, his voice carrying the weight of regret and longing.

You nodded, your heart swelling and breaking all at once. He wiped his tears with the back of his hand, then pulled you into a hug so tight you could feel the unspoken ache in him. This was what he had wanted, what he had dreamed of, and yet he couldn’t help but wish it had come under different circumstances.

When he pulled back, his hands stayed on your shoulders as he searched your eyes, now lit with a fragile hope. His fingers traced the line of your chin as he leaned in, his lips hovering close to yours. But just before he closed the distance, your hand pressed firmly against his chest, stopping him.

"But it doesn’t change the fact that you broke my heart and put me through hell..." you said quietly, your words cutting through the fragile moment. The light in his eyes faltered, dimming into something more pained and uncertain. Of course, it wasn’t going to be easy—nothing with you two ever was. He stepped back slightly, his hands falling away.

"I know," he said, his voice raw. "And you have no idea how sorry I am, sweetheart. I pushed you away. I messed it all up. And in the process, I lost you."

You nodded, the weight of his admission heavy between you. A part of you wanted to forgive him immediately. You wanted to let the warmth of his arms and the tenderness in his eyes convince you that it would all be okay. But fear lingered—fear of being hurt again, of rebuilding something so fragile.

"You did lose me," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"I did," he said, his tone unwavering. Then his eyes lifted to meet yours, filled with a quiet determination. "Losing you meant losing everything. But you know what? That just means I’ve got nothing left to lose now."

Before you could process his words, his lips crashed into yours, desperate and unyielding. It wasn’t careful or perfect—it was messy, raw, and filled with everything he’d been holding back. And for once, you didn’t stop him.

Your arms wrapped around him, tight and possessive, like a cobra coiling around its prey. Pulling him closer as your lips met in a searing kiss. It was urgent, almost frantic, like neither of you could get enough of each other. His hands found your waist, pulling you in tighter, as if he wanted to lose himself in the feeling of you against him. Your heart raced, a mix of desire and something deeper, something tangled with the emotions you couldn't quite untangle yet.

The kiss deepened, his lips moving against yours in perfect sync, as if you had done this a thousand times. His tongue traced the line of your lips, asking for permission that you gladly gave, and soon you both were lost in the heat of it. You could feel his breath coming faster, his body pressing into yours, and you responded just as eagerly, matching his pace. The kiss was messy, desperate, a blend of passion and pent-up frustration, the kind that had been building between you for far too long.

His hands slid to your back, pulling you even closer, his fingers digging into your skin as you kissed him harder, deeper. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, the kiss now less about exploring and more about releasing the tension that had been between you both for far too long. You could taste the remnants of alcohol on his lips, the heat of his breath mixing with yours as your bodies swayed together in sync.

When you both finally pulled away, breathless, your chests heaving as you tried to catch your breath, Billy leaned his forehead against yours, his fingers gently cupping your cheeks, still trembling from the intensity of the kiss. His lips brushed against yours one last time in a soft, lingering kiss that held more than words ever could.

“Baby girl,” his voice was husky, still thick with emotion, “I know things are messed up right now, but if you’ll let me, I promise I’ll fix it. I mean it.”

You took a deep breath, eyes meeting his with a mix of vulnerability and determination. "Look, how about we meet up tomorrow and talk? As a start… yeah?"

He smiled, his lips still tingling from the kiss. “Deal. But what do you say I take you home tonight?”

You smiled back, feeling a warmth that had been missing for so long. “Sure, take me home, Billy.”

[laughtalelogs]

in the shadows of buffalo bay- ch. 1

word count: 3.3k+

Zoro x afab!Reader x Sanji, cowgirl!reader, no use of y/n, no beta reader, all my reader characters are black even if not explicitly stated. if that's not ur jam, then don’t read!

Rating: M, MDNI 18+ (smut will be in future chapters, labelled as Explicit.)

Warnings: themes of alcohol, drug use, smoking, mental health issues, implications of self-harm, and violence to come.

Summary: Zoro is hot and bothered right after Wano, thinking about recent events and the man he hates the most. A new arrival shakes things up, making him more apprehensive, and angry.

chapter Index- prologue, ch.2

the prologue is recommended; but not required reading.

chapter 1 - The devil went down to buffalo bay

Zoro squinted at the mirages on the horizon and leaned back under the Sunny’s deck tree, hoping to find relief from the heat—which was doing a piss-poor job at it. The thick syrupy air and the bleary sun caused slick sweat to coat every inch of his hot skin. It didn’t help the knot that had formed at the base of his skull. He swung his arms up behind his head and rubbed the tender sore with his fingers.  He couldn’t figure out which was more annoying—the heat or the throbbing ache.

On any other day, the sea breeze would’ve helped cool him off after such a rough morning. Being aboard the brigantine normally made even the blistering heat of the Grand Line bearable. But here, on this humid scrap of dirt, grass, and jagged rock they dared to call an island, the Sunny sat dead in the center of it, far from the cooling relief of the water.

He grimaced but kept his jaw tight, forcing himself to relax. The last thing he wanted was to draw the Doctor’s attention — Chopper wasn’t faring much better, anyway. Zoro’s gaze shifted toward the deck stairs, where Usopp and the tiny doctor were dramatically draped over one another, pitifully squeezing water onto each other’s heads. The liquid evaporated almost instantly in the oppressive heat.

Zoro clicked his tongue, his eyebrows furrowing as another sharp thrum pulsed through the knot in his head as he let his mind wander. Serves them right, he thought grimly. It’s partially their fault we’re stuck here in the first place.

Their genius of a captain in the middle of the night grabbed two of his even smarter crewmates to Coup De Burst onto land. The same land that they were set to explore that morning. The land that they were only 4 kilometers away from, from what Nami calculated before she went to bed. But no, the call for adventure — no —food, was too great. 

Feeling more cynical than usual, he hoped the tattered flyer Usopp found on the ghost ship was a dead end. The sun made its way across the sky, shining down on the sparse field. Beyond the patchy clay valleys, plateaus jutted out from the sea of green and maroon. For a land promising tourism, it looked pretty dead.

Maybe, he was right, then. Hopefully, he'd wake up again just as Franky figured out some miracle to return them to the sea, and that damn cook would have his onigiri ready. A side of cold sake served with a fresh ‘I told you so’ for the rest of the crew to chew on sounded like exactly what he needed.

He cursed under his breath and breathed in the hot air. Why the hell did he keep thinking about curly brows now of all times? His thoughts had been swimming ever since Wano. He tried to drop it, but something about the tension between them felt different now—more candid, somehow. Zoro hated it. Scrunching his eyes closed, he stretched out his straining leg muscles. It was showing, in a more intense way than usual, and Zoro found himself looking like an idiot in front of the other man. 

Before leaving with Nami to see if the flyer was a hoax, the dumbass squad—including the captain—were stuck on the boat, along with Robin, Brook, and Jinbei. They were forced to stay behind as punishment for their earlier antics, while Franky stayed to assess the damage to the ship. Zoro had slept through the  decision, and they hadn’t bothered waking him. He only noticed when he heard the familiar footsteps draw near and he reached out, grabbing the cook’s leg as he passed under the tree where Zoro sat. 

Sanji stopped mid-step, his eyebrow arching in confusion as he glanced back. “Hey, let go, you idiot—”

 “—Are you good?”  Zoro’s voice was low, and he immediately regretted how it sounded. His grip on Sanji’s pant leg stayed firm, defiant.

Sanji’s face scrunched in disbelief before it melted into his usual smugness. “I’m just fine, thank you very much. Did you hit your head, Moss, or are you just going to miss me that much?” 

Zoro refused to reply, glaring instead as Sanji gave a sharp tug, yanking his cuff free. The cook smoothed the tiny wrinkle Zoro had caused, dragging his hand down the length of his leg. The fabric strained slightly over his thigh before relaxing as he let it drop. Typical, Zoro thought. Always worried about his stupid clothes. 

“As if,” Zoro muttered, forcing a scoff through the thudding in his chest. “Go ahead, get yourself killed for all I care. Just don’t make a mess.” The words came out harsher than he intended as he leaned back against the tree, shutting his eye tightly. A dull throb pulsed at the back of his skull.

“Fuck you, asshole.” Sanji’s voice was sharp, as he turned to continue to follow Nami who was impatiently waiting by the ladder. 

“Take Luffy with you,” Zoro adds, though he already knew the idiot wouldn’t listen. “Bad idea to leave him on the ship, he’s gonna leave anyways.”

“It’s Nami’s call, not mine.” Sanji’s back stiffened as he paused, then looked over his shoulder, his tone clipped.” And if you want to blame anyone, blame those idiots for getting us stuck here in the first place.”

Zoro exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his chest tightening with irritation—or something worse. Good riddance, Curly. Hopefully, the idiot would find something in town to distract himself and stop being such a pain in the ass. It had been three hours since then, and two hours since Luffy bolted off after getting bored. Was the island really that large?

Chopper’s whine through Zoro’s foggy thoughts, “When will they be back? It’s too hot, I’m going to die before I get to try any of the candy,” 

“I told you to sit inside with Jinbei,  Brook, and Robin,  if you were going to complain,” Zoro chided. He doubted there was any food in general. 

The door to the galley way opens, and Robin walks quickly to the banister. She peered over the edge, looking down at Usopp and Chopper’s situation with pity.

“It���s quite hot today, isn’t it?”  She brings a hand to cover her eyes from the rays, “Usopp, would you happen to still have any of those breath dials?”

 Usopp with a sudden burst of renewed energy jumped and spilled the water onto the ground. He startled  Chopper, who almost fell if it weren’t for the hands that sprouted next to him and catched him gently. 

Chopper wheezed in excitement, unphased and excited about her proposition, “Robin, that’s such a good idea!” 

“An astute observation from Robin yet again! I think I have just the right thing in my workshop,” He scratches his chin as the gears turn in his brain, “We’re off, Chopper!” 

And a clobbering of leather boots and hooves scrambled away, going down the ladder to the lower part of the ship.  Zoro thought back to the cool air that emitted from the shell. His lips twitched upwards. 

  "No calls yet?" He turned to Robin, who stood looking far off into the distance.

Robin shook her head. "No, which makes me think our Captain hasn’t caught up to Ms. Navigator and the Cook."

"I told that idiot cook he might as well take Luffy with him. He wasn’t going to stay put for long."

Robin hummed impartially, her gaze fixed outwards, her thoughts dancing in her eyes, though she didn’t seem keen on sharing just yet.

Zoro sighed. "Classic, they went and got themselves lost again, leaving it up to us to find them."

 Trying to gather the energy to move, he relaxed one last time, looking up at the clear sky. Zoro began to debate whether to take a dip in the fish tank and swim with Jinbei, who seemed to be taking the heat just as badly as the rest of them.

So much for a break, he thought. 

Before he could succumb to the exhaustion the dreadful heat pressed on him, he felt a small tremor underneath him. 

The subtle thrum became stronger by the second, vibrating the deck and earth around them. His head beat loudly in his ears, his heartbeat ever present. He tried to push back the overwhelming presence creeping closer and closer to him. Robin gripped tight on the rails as she lost her footing underneath the pressure of the Haki. Zoro hesitated for a moment. He quickly decided that Sunny was more important right now. 

The hair on his neck stood on end. Without a second thought, he reached for the hilt of his blades, trying to suppress the excitement in his veins. He stood up and ran to the center of the ship, gripping the woven material of his blades as a chill made its way down his spine like a needle grazing over the skin. Someone powerful was coming their way. He peered off in every direction.

Fuck, where was it coming from?

His eyes land on billowing clouds of red dust that barreled in their direction. He squinted, watching the blob get closer. There was no mistake in these barren fields — it was headed straight for them.

"Looks like we got company, bro!" Franky yelled from a distance, who’d been working diligently on the hull of the ship all morning.

"I can see that, I’ll handle it," Zoro said back, watching whatever beast approached, barely making out the outline. Was that a cow?

"I guess nap time’s over," he muttered, jumping off the ship for the first time. The crunch of the red clay beneath him was harder than he’d expected. He strolled closer to the dust cloud approaching, rolling his neck, blocking out the pain he felt.

 He looked closer. The challenger began to come into view through the haze of dust and dirt. The distinct rumbling of hooves on the ground confirmed his suspicions, but this beast was large. Its size became more noticeable as it got closer. That didn’t bother Zoro. He’d slain many beasts. He could see clearer now, the horned bull tugged back by the large ring in its nose, reins attached from either side. His gaze traveled up, his eyebrow raised out of pure curiosity.

A woman?

She sat on the back of the massive beast with an air of indifference, her gaze fixed elsewhere, not even sparing a glance in his direction. Her legs were casually crossed, and her hat was drawn low, casting a shadow over her eyes. Wild hair billowed beneath it, flowing, dark tresses like a cloud in the wind. She was dressed in dark  leather and denim, the harsh sun reflecting off her tanned skin. Two guns rested on either side of her wide hips, a silent warning. As she closed the distance, she effortlessly tugged the reins bringing he beast to a dramatic halt, mere feet away from the ship. 

The bull bellowed, its roar piercing the air, right in Zoro’s face. The roaring pain in his head persisted, but he forced it down. His eyes narrowed as he instinctively reached for Enma. She seemed like the perfect target to test his one-sword style with the new blade. The way she flaunted her skill, like this was some kind of game, already pissed him off.

 Another show-off who’d be easily cut down. He can’t help but smile at the idea of humbling her. He unleashes his own haki, a warning as she continued her steadfast approach.

His eyes caught the white gauze wrapped around her finger that stopped at her wrist, clothed fingers absentmindedly fiddling with metal between them. Her gaze flit to him, finally acknowledging his presence. She carried herself with confident, nonchalant approach, that gave way under her intense, dark eyes. The tension between them hung thick in the air, the swirling dust cloud that surrounded them settling around the Sunny. They silently sized each other up, and for a moment, he considered cutting her down, right then and there. Bu, she hadn’t made her move yet. Not yet. Zoro tilted his head back.

“What do you want?” he demanded, his tone sharp, watching as she uncrossed her legs. A small, almost dismissive chuckle leaves her lips,  eyes flickering with amusement.

“Well, hello to you, too,” She stretched haphazardly, raising her arms above her head as if Zoro was the most boring thing she could be entertaining right now, He scowled. "I should be asking you the very same thing, pirate." She replied simply. “-I suggest you leave now, if you’re smart.”

 “A woman with a bull and a pair of guns… You think you can scare me with that?” Zoro chuckled darkly. "If you were any good, I’d already be bleeding by now."

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow, pocketing the small, silver item in her palm. “Ya sure you wanna pick this fight? I can do worse than make you bleed,” 

Suddenly, he felt it. The slow building of an ever-present Haki crept up his neck. The prickling sensation ran his blood cold, and he felt adrenaline trill through every nerve in his body. That type of power only had one pure desire: murder. He reflexively reached for Enma to unsheathe it.

It all happened in a flash. One second, he was grabbing for his blade, pulling it out as he felt his own power surge forth into the steel, ready to hack the woman and her bull down. The next second, her gun was drawn, and the shot rang throughout the valley.

Zoro went to dodge the lead, slicing through the air, when he realized what she had been aiming at. Zoro tried to adjust his torso, but the bullet came barreling quicker than he had expected. Before he could fully react, she made a swift motion with her hand still on the reigns.

The massive bull roared again, stomping  its hooves hard into the ground. A  shockwave sent a violent dust cloud swirling into the air, momentarily obscuring Zoro’s vision. The dust storm clouded the already heavy atmosphere, making it harder for Zoro to track the bullet’s trajectory. 

At that moment, Zoro’s world turned to chaos—the thick dust in his eyes, the rumbling hooves, and the overwhelming presence of that woman and her beast. 

The bullet came crashing down with a deafening crack, and struck Enma at angle. The impact sent a jarring vibration up his arm. The force of the bullet sent a sickening crack through the air.  Bullet barreled against his sword, and Emma sent a sharp shock through his grip, nearly sending the blade flying out of his hands. The chip was deep, nicking the edge of Enma in a way that made his stomach drop. The sting of the blade's damage only added to the tension in his chest, heightening his frustration.

"Fuck!" he seethed, tightened his grip on the hilt, anger rising by the second. 

"You’re really in for it now—how the hell am I supposed to fix this?" he yelled, his anger flaring, as he inspected his blade quickly.  Humiliation bubbled beneath the surface of his burning skin.

The stupid headache combined with the heat was getting to him, no doubt. He felt his chest tighten, his expression growing darker as his fears crept to the forefront of his mind. What if he was unable to take her down? He pushed that thought away immediately, deepening his stance and getting ready to lunge.

“Is that really how to treat the sheriff of this here island?” She held her hands up defensively, gun loosely dangling between her fingertips. She tutted under her breath. "You pirates really are all the same, huh, no honor at all.”

“And what would you know about honor, with a cheap shot like that?” Zoro said between his teeth. The chip in Enma made controlling the blade’s Haki harder, forcing him to grit his teeth against the strain as he worked the blade back under his command. She'd pay for that. 

“Cheap? I like calling it creative.” She bites back, flashing a plastic smile. “You’re the one who drew first, I was just quicker. Bet that’s something you’re not used to," 

“-You don’t know a damn thing about me, or honor,” Zoro snapped, fury bubbling over as his fingers twitched toward his other blades, as he searched for any opening. You could be cut down, just like anything else. 

“Zoro, stop,” Robin’s sharp voice cut through his focus. She stepped into his line of sight, raising one hand in warning.

“Give me one good reason,” he growled, his eyes locked on her like a predator tracking prey.

Robin’s tone was calm but firm as she approached the edge of the ship, addressing her directly. “You said you’re the Sheriff of this island?”

Mystery woman winked at Zoro, a gesture that made his blood boil even more, then turned her attention to Robin.

“Yes, ma’am, that’s me,” she beamed. “Though I’d say welcome, we’re not exactly open for tourists—especially of your profession.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zoro snapped.

Her gaze flickered to him, her hands flexing around her pistol that was drawn low. “It means, this here island is under marine protection,”

“I don’t see any of ‘em around here,” Zoro retorted, 

“And that's dependent on me.” An edge of irritation flares in her voice, commanding and defiant. Zoro frowns deeper. She was definitely trouble. “I’m no marine, though,” She adds.

“We really aren’t here for trouble,” Robin cuts in again, before Zoro could say anything else. “ We actually had found a flyer for a fair, tell me, is this Buffalo Bay?” 

Zoro’s irritation burned hotter as your grin faltered, and holstering your weapon. Did you not find him worthy of continuing the fight?

“This is Buffalo Bay,” the mystery woman said gesturing around wistfully, “but we haven’t had a fair in twelve years.”

“Knew it was too good to be true,” Zoro muttered, his pounding headache flaring again.

Her head snapped toward him, eyes dark and stormy. For a moment, she leaned closer, as if preparing to deliver a cutting remark—but before she could speak, the clatter of boots and hooves broke the tension.

“Wait—wait, we’re back!” Chopper’s voice broke through the tense silence, followed by a dramatically underwhelming entrance by him and Ussop.

“Behold! The ultimate cooling machine!” Usopp, grinned ear to ear, brandishing a lopsided contraption that whirred pitifully. Zoro resisted the urge to groan.  “Chopper helped me perfect it!”

Chopper nodded enthusiastically, only for the device to sputter and die in a puff of smoke. The tiny reindeer’s ears drooped, as they said there, unmoving. “Well… it was working.” 

Usopp blinked, finally taking in the scene. His gaze darted between the new stranger, the massive bull, and Zoro’s tense stance before settling on Robin.

 “Uh, did I miss something? Who’s this chick?”

She chuckled softly, lifting a hand in a polite wave. “Hiya.”

Zoro actually groaned this time, “Don’t trust her Usopp,”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Usopp’s knees wavered, and his teeth threatened to chatter. Chopper, too, shifted nervously behind him. 

“I guess anyone and anything can be a pirate, these days,” She quipped, earning a sharp glare from Zoro, who bared his teeth in response. “They’re none of your business.”

She waved her hand dismissively, like swatting away an annoying fly. “While I’d love to stay and chat all day, y’all might want to get out of this heat. It’ll kill you if you’re not careful.” She tugged on the  bull’s reins, shifting her grip. “You’ll need to head into town—supplies, repairs, food, the whole deal. Lucky for you, I’m feeling generous today. Follow me, and don’t dawdle.” 

With a sly smile, she turned and spurred the bull forward, leaving in a cloud of red dust, too fast for anyone to follow behind. 

Zoro squinted after her, her words lingering like a challenge he wasn’t ready to walk away from. The biting edge he’d felt last night—the creeping sense that something about this was all wrong—was too undeniable to ignore. As he sheathed Enma, the faint resistance from the chip in the blade only sharpened his resolve. At the root of it all was her.

a/n- First chapter down! The next one will be in Sanji's POV, I promise, yours is coming soon than later! I hope you enjoy, I know I was late. Hopefully I'll have chapter 2 out sometime this week. Please make sure to like, comment, and reblog! - lynn

[progamer27]

EPIC: The Musical - Character Growth

I like it when characters aren't one-dimensional, especially main characters.

Sure, it's fine and fun to have characters who are solely evil or solely good from time to time.

But I vastly prefer characters that go thru some sort of development - that takes its time -, and then come out changed by the experience.

Enter: Odysseus and Athena (and also Eurylychous)

I think it's pretty safe to say that, at least at the start of the musical, a lot of people didn't like Athena and Eurylychous too much - and were quick to label them as, at the very least, "villain-adjecent".

But now that we have had 6 out of 8 Sagas released, we can understand them better. And same for Odysseus.

Eurylychous: In the Odyssey, he is a minor character whose only role is to be a plot device (killing and eating Helios's cattle). In EPIC, Eurylychous is shown as someone more focused on the crew than anything else. Brash and Hot-headed, he is the opposite of Odysseus.

So, why is he interesting? Because we SEE (or HEAR) how he grows from just; a soldier whose first instinct is to murder (Lotus Eaters) or flee (After blinding Polypheamus), to a desperate man who wants to get back home as fast as possible - even if it means leaving his comrades behind (Circe), to a man who needs to confess his guilt (Scylla, as a follow up to Keep Your Friends Close and Puppeteer), to someone who's desperate and has given up entirely (Mutiny and Thunder Bringer).

In conclusion: Eury isn't a villain, but Just a Man. He made mistakes and was abrasive, but so would many people in his place.

ATHENA: In Greek Mythology, Athena is one of the most Hubris-Filled (Prideful) Goddesses out there. In EPIC, she is much of the same... at the Start.

Because Remember, prior to the Wisdom Saga, we only really saw/heard Athena 3 times. And in those 3 times, we get presented with who she is at the moment; A Goddess who views Odysseus as a "project/creation" (Warrior of the Mind and Remember Them), and as the less rose-tinted Goddess who lost her friend because of the circumstances (My Goodbye).

Now, at this point in time, most people would simply label Athena as a "typical greek goddess" - that is to say, a deity who doesn't really view humans as equal to her, and who lacks Humanity.

....until she meets Telemachus.

Then, the characterization... matures; she becomes less closed-off (We'll Be Fine), admits that she was pushing too hard (Little Wolf), realizes that what she did to Ody was HORRIBLE - and, if I may interject, she will probably be a bit shocked/traumatized at seeing Ody trying to kill himself (Love in Paradise), and finally as someone who realized they STILL CARE for their friend, and that tried to do everything to save them (God Games)

In Short: Athena went from being an unlikable cold goddess - one who refused to comprehend human emotions -, to being much more "human".

(And please, if you are a fanfic writer, try to write a story where Athena just... realizes how shitty her life was, and how badly she treated others, and let her have an home with the Itachan Family. She needs her friends, and she probably needs to express her emotions in an healtier way)

ODYSSEUS:....

....

....

What is there to say? The musical is ABOUT HIM, and about how the line between man and monster (good and evil) is incredibly thin... but also about how you CAN come back from the brink, how you can "Become Yourself" again.

In the Odyssey - even if the story is a banger -, I didn't get the impression that Odysseus changed too much. Sure, he may have some trauma and suicidial thoughts, but he didn't do a 180°, then another one, and finally got a better understanding of life. He was still just... Odysseus, the King of Itacha and Father of Telemachus. Odysseus, the Silver-Tounged Liar. Odysseus the sacker of cities.

In Epic....

...Well, I think you know where I'm going with this..

In Conclusion: The EPIC versions of the characters feel like Actual Characters - almost actual humans - who make mistakes and aren't wholly "pure villainy" or "goodie two-shoes".

Sure, we have example of both of these things (Goodie = Polites, Penelope, Astynax; Villains = Poseidon, Polyphemus, Scylla, Zeus, The Suitors), as well as some morally-grey ones (Dark Grey/Leaning toward Evil = Calypso; Light Gray/Leaning towards Good= Circee, Aeolus, Tiresias)

But i think that I've said enough.

[augiewrites]

"unknown / nth" - richie jerimovich

summary: y/n reflects on their relationship with richie (inspired by hozier's unknown / nth)

pairing: richie jerimovich x reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: angst, a lot of hurt with no comfort, reader and richie are toxic :(

a/n: i've been staring at this draft for so long idk how to feel

previous

The question kept ringing in Y/N’s head for days to come.

What are we? I mean, we’re friends, right?

Y/N didn’t know if they could be friends with Richie. He had been breaking their heart for as long as they could remember.

1995

The flashing lights and thumping bass was giving Y/N a headache. They never thought they would hate senior prom so much. 

It wouldn’t be so bad—Y/N thought, bringing a cup of spiked punch to their lips—if Richie hadn’t run off to god knows where with Mikey.

Richie wasn’t a bad boyfriend, per se, but their relationship wasn’t always conventional. Hell, they didn’t have a label until nearly a year into their relationship, when some jock hit on Y/N right in front of Richie. He started a fight with the boy—one he wouldn’t have won if Mikey wasn’t there—but he made one thing clear: Y/N belonged to Richie, and Richie belonged to Y/N.

A small smile made its way to Y/N’s face at the memory, but fell quickly when they remembered their current situation. It had been thirty minutes, and there was no sign of their date.

With a huff, Y/N shoved their unfinished cup into Fak’s hand—Y/N didn’t care to know how he snuck in to the function—and headed for the gymnasium doors.

If Richie was going to run off into school with Mikey, then Y/N would run off altogether.

They made it halfway across the parking lot before rapid footsteps approached and they heard a yell of, “hey! Where are you going?”

Y/N halted against their better judgment, letting Richie catch up to them.

“What’s up? Where are you going?” Richie’s hand found Y/N’s waist as he tried to catch his breath.

Y/N was disappointed, but not surprised. Richie had a track record of fucking up without realization—it was just something they had to accept when they got involved with the boy. 

Y/N continued walking, letting Richie’s hand drop. “I’m going home, Rich.” Richie scoffed and started following once he realized his partner was serious.

“What do you mean you’re going home? I thought we were having a good time?”

“If we means you and Mike, then yeah. I’m sure you were having a good time.” It was uncharacteristically cold for May, and Y/N shuddered as they rubbed their bare arms.

Richie draped his tux jacket over their shoulders without skipping a beat. “C’mon, we just had some business that needed taken care of.”

“Well what about me? Don’t I deserve to be taken care of?” Y/N couldn’t even look at him as they continued, “I swear, you should just leave me and marry Mikey. You’d probably be a lot happier.”

“Hey,” desperation seeped into Richie’s tone as he lightly gripped Y/N’s arm, bringing the two of them to a halt. “I’m here now, why don’t we just take two on this shit and try having a good time? Together.”

Y/N finally met Richie’s eyes, “We’ll have a good time, but for how long? Huh? How long before you ditch me again? You always do this, and I always just go along with it.”

“I don’t always ditch you.”

“Oh really? What about homecoming? The holiday party? Last weekend at Little Greg’s? I can go on.”

Richie guffawed, flailing his arms out.

Y/N continued forward, “I’m going home. I don’t know why I expected anything else from tonight.”

“Y/N—wait,” he caught up to them again, “at least let me take you home. You’re not walking alone this late.”

They ignored him and kept going.

“You either get in the car or I’m walking right behind you the whole way there.”

Y/N walked the whole way home, only acknowledging his presence to hand him his jacket before closing the door firmly in his face.

They were back together by Monday.

1998

Three years. It was the longest Y/N and Richie had ever gone without breaking up.

Y/N had taken a gap year after graduation before making the decision to attend a university in Nowhere, Pennsylvania. The couple had gotten pretty good at the long distance thing—call schedules, risque polaroids crammed into letters, Y/N spending all breaks and long weekends in Chicago, and Richie coming to them when he could pawn his weekend shifts onto someone else.

It worked at first, but the relationship was strained once Y/N finally began to settle into their new life. Their classes got more demanding, trips home were more infrequent, and they were down to one biweekly call if they were lucky.

Y/N should have seen it coming, but Richie should have had better timing.

Y/N was on a plane to Chicago two hours after their last final was handed in, and the pair was nearly inseparable for the two weeks leading up to Christmas. Everything seemed fine—perfect, even—and Y/N was so happy to finally have their man right there, in the flesh.

Against their better judgment, Y/N found themself at the Berzatto Christmas dinner. It was loud and multiple fights had broken out throughout the evening, but Y/N had gotten through dinner relatively unscathed.

That was, until Richie pulled them into an empty room.

“I think we should break up.”

The melody of loud conversations and playful scuffles throughout the house fell deaf on Y/N’s ears as they felt the walls close in on them.

“Wh-what?”

“I just think we need some time apart, is all.”

“Time apart? Practically all of our time is apart.”

“Yeah, I mean…” Richie trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck and looking everywhere but at Y/N. “I guess that’s part of the problem.”

Y/N didn’t want to cry. Not here, not now, not when they’d have to push through a crowd of the most overbearing people on the planet to make an exit. They cursed the hot tears flowing freely down their cheeks. 

“It’s not just on me to come here to you, you know. You never come visit me at school.”

“C’mon, Y/N, you know I work.”

“And I don’t? I’m constantly putting my life—my livelihood—on hold just so you’re not lonely for a weekend.”

“Look, I’m not trying to fight about this,” Y/N scoffed at Richie’s words, but he continued, “having you here has just been a reminder of how much I hate this long distance shit. It ain’t fair to me.”

“It’s not fair to you? You think it doesn’t kill me to not be able to be here with you?” Y/N hated how pathetic their cracking voice made them sound.

Richie’s eyes finally locked onto Y/N’s.

“Well, you were the one that chose to leave.”

Richie’s words sunk their teeth into Y/N’s heart, and they could feel a chunk being ripped out as they turned to leave the room without another word.

They were barely aware of their surroundings as they made their way through the house to the front door. Blood was pumping so loudly in their ears that they didn’t hear Sugar asking if they were okay or the harmony of Carmy and Mike assaulting Richie with varying versions of “what the hell did you do?”

Y/N grabbed their coat, but didn’t take the time to put it on before moving swiftly out the door and into the cold, letting its finite slam ricochet through the empty street.

Present

Y/N spent a lot of time thinking about all the things they wanted to say to Richie at that moment. They wanted to tell him about how the distance never made a difference to them—that they were just happy to know he was out there and they would be back home full time in just a few years. That they loved Richie—even being all too familiar with his bad side. That they couldn’t imagine a future without him.

Richie was a chapter of their life Y/N was never able to fully close. Over the years following the breakup, Y/N would visit home and end up in Richie’s bed more times than they were proud of. 

Y/N stopped coming home after Sugar broke the news that Richie and Tiff were engaged.

Even after all the years, Y/N could never find the courage to tell Richie how they truly felt about him. Even now, they could break beneath the weight of the goodness they still held for him.

It was like a cruel joke that their lives were aligning again. Y/N had to fight the hope blossoming in their chest—it never did them much good with Richie, anyway.

~~~

feedback is appreciated!

[eds6ngel]

another idea: reader going over to robin and vickie’s with steve for dinner one night, robin talks to reader about how good reader is for steve, little bonding moment with robin, and reader starts to feel deeper love, then fluff with steve and maybe a reciprocation of feelings? I think that’s it for now, but you don’t have to do any of them! thank you so much for writing the series, its soooo good and I can’t wait for any spin-offs!

hi my love!! i started off with this one as it goes in the order i'd like to tackle my asks in! i changed it up slightly (not too much), so i hope you enjoy!! ♡

warnings: dad!steve. singledad!steve. 90s!au. fem!reader. use of y/n. swearing. kissing. a lil bit of making out. allusions to sex. pet names. food mentions. r is mentioned as unlabeled (so you can assign the label according to your identity!!) r being an ally. fluff. comfort. love confessions!! [2.3k].

full 'when i kissed the teacher' masterlist.

“Babe?” Steve asks you, currently attending to the dishes piled in the sink from your beautiful handmade soup the two of you had for lunch. Alena was currently staying with Jonathan and Nancy, having a sleepover with her friend Ashley, which meant you had the place to yourselves.

“Uh huh?” you reply, not tearing your eyes away from the very intriguing book about the psychology of the human mind.

“You’re accepting, right?”

The question draws you away from the paperback, looking behind you to where Steve was scrubbing away at a green bowl, placing it neatly on the drying rack. “Yeah, I would say I am. Why?” The question seemed out of the blue, almost unordinary for him. It’s not like you had an issue with said question, it was just the timing that was confusing.

“Just… I really hope she doesn’t kill me for this,” Steve mumbles to himself, just loud enough for you to catch the tail end of, “You know Robin, she’s uh… She’s a lesbian, had a girlfriend for nine years. That’s okay with you… right?”

You smile, “Of course it’s okay. It’s more than okay. People can love whoever they want to love.” You were very passionate about this topic. You hadn’t particularly labeled your own sexuality, but you were striving for the ones that didn’t fit into the heteronormative society to have as many rights as you did. You frankly thought it was stupid that they didn’t already, and that as long as relationships are consensual and healthy, anybody of age should be allowed to love and potentially have sex with whoever they wanted.

Steve sighs out, chuckling lightly, “Oh thank God. I was so scared for a second.”

“Babe, if I didn’t support gay people, I shouldn’t even be deserving of your time. Besides… I’ve been to a few protests in my life,” you smirk, quickly looking back down at your book to leave Steve standing there in shock.

“You’ve been to protests?”

“Mhmm,” you hum, “College is a wild ride babe. You end up doing things you never thought you would ever do.”

“Huh… Anyway,” he shakes his running thoughts off, “I was asking because I was wondering if you’d like to go on a double date with them. You know, me and you, Robin and her girlfriend Vickie, that sort of thing?”

“Of course!” you happily agree, “When were you thinking?”

“Well, I’ll have to check with the girls, but since Alena isn’t back until tomorrow evening, I was thinking we could grab lunch somewhere tomorrow afternoon?”

“That sounds great babe! I’m totally down.”

He puts the final dish on the rack, walking up behind you and placing a tender kiss on the crown of your head, “Great, let me just give them a call, see if they’re down too.”

“There’s nothing good on this menu,” Robin whines, “You couldn’t have chosen a better restaurant, Steve?”

The four of you were squeezed into a booth of a small sandwich shop on the outskirts of Hawkins. Steve had his hand on your thigh as he scanned through the menu to the right of you, Robin and Vickie sat opposite.

Steve scoffs, “Just because you’re an extremely fussy eater, Robin. Everyone else here seems to be fine with the menu. The menu’s good, isn’t it, babe?” His question holds a slight waver of uncertainty, his best friend making his insecurities come out.

You take a quick look up at Robin over the top of your menu, smirking away as you pretend to cringe, “Well…”

Steve’s eyes open wide as he thinks he made the biggest mistake of his life, you having to quickly put a reassuring hand on your shoulder to calm him down, “I’m only kidding babe, it’s wonderful.”

“Well, according to someone it isn’t,” he narrows his eyes at Robin, her sticking her tongue out at him. You and Vickie give each other a look, as if you were both mothers parenting your immature children.

The waiter soon comes, Robin ordering a plain chicken sandwich, as suspected, Steve a ham and cheese toastie, Vickie a cheese and salad sandwich, and you deciding on a pulled pork sandwich.

“So,” you begin to start the conversation back up, “I’ve heard the two of you have been together for nine years. That’s incredible!”

Vickie holds Robin’s hand in hers on top of the table, the other leaning against her cheek, “Yeah. Almost at the nine year anniversary. You know, it took Robin two years to ask me out. She had a crush on me since the start of ‘86, took her until the Spring of ‘88 to make a move. We were both just blubbering messes up until that point. She finally asked me out, we had our first date, and then the rest is history I suppose.”

“So, just like me and Steve,” you giggle, Steve squeezing your thigh as he smiles down at you, Robin noticing how in love her best friend looks. “Always the whole mutual pining game, huh?”

“Apparently so. After the earthquake happened here a decade ago, we had to help out at the school for anyone affected,” Vickie explains, “Well, Robin and I got put on making PB&J’s, and I got so rambly and nervous in her presence that I buttered both pieces of bread with peanut butter.”

“Yeah, I was sorting clothes, watching the two of you be all cutesy and shit from across the room.”

Robin lets her mouth hang open, “You were watching that day?”

Steve nods with a grin on his face, “Uh, yeah? My best friend talking to her crush who she wouldn’t shut up about for months? And the two of you laughing and getting along? Of course I was watching.”

Vickie sighs happily, “I’m trying to think of some questions to ask the two of you, but I think we know every detail of your relationship.”

Robin raises her eyebrows with a smirk next to her girlfriend, “Oh yeah. Every goddamn time we saw him. ‘She called me handsome.’ ‘She’s just so pretty.’ ‘What am I supposed to do?’ Over and over again. It was constant reassurance, trying to encourage him to ask you out.”

“Just to let you know though,” Vickie points at you, “We did not encourage him to kiss you and therefore lose your job. We take absolutely no responsibility in that.”

You brush her off with a wave of your hand, “I mean, it didn’t end up so bad in the end. I mean, no insult to Hawkins or anything—”

“Babe,” Steve interrupts you, “We’ve all grown up here. You can insult this place however you like.”

“I don’t like to be rude though honey, you know that!” you laugh as Steve presses a kiss to your cheek, Robin and Vickie giving each other a knowing look, “Okay, fine. Just to preface, I loved the kids I taught, okay? Nothing wrong on their part. Just… some of the teachers were extremely mean in the staff room, some parents were just absolutely awful and the place itself was just… I dunno, something felt off.”

“Yeah, because it’s a piece of shit,” Robin truthfully states, Vickie jabbing her lightly in the ribs, Robin letting out an “Ow!”

You giggle, “Yeah, it kind of is, I guess. At least in comparison to Ernie Pyle. I suppose parents take their kids education a lot more seriously there. The student population is mostly made up of ethnic minorities from disadvantaged backgrounds, so the parents want to give their kids what they never had growing up. Plus, I think it’s around 90% of the teachers already have at least three years of prior teaching experience. It’s one of the reasons they took me on actually.”

“Well, I’m glad you got your happy ending. Perfect relationship and a perfect job,” Vickie points out, “Seems like a total win.”

“Yeah,” you look up at Steve lovingly, “It was.”

You had all enjoyed your meals, no matter how adventurous your selections were. Before you all got ready to leave, Steve excused himself to the bathroom, Robin sipping the final bits of her strawberry milkshake. “I’ve never seen dingus so in love before. I imagine you must get fed up with how much he says it.”

But, that’s the thing: he’d never said it. You weren’t gonna critique him on that, you were happy to take things as slow as possible, but there was that lingering thought in the back of your mind that maybe he wasn’t as in love as you were. And you didn’t want to scare him off by saying those three words if he didn’t feel that confident in the relationship yet.

“Actually, he hasn’t said it yet…” you let out.

“What?”

“Are you kidding?”

The two girls sit there in shock as you shrug it off. “No, you have to be lying,” Robin says, “Dingus has been in love with you since… well, forever!“

“Yeah, my love’s not kidding,” Vickie adds on, “I’m pretty sure he told us after you two did the Christmas Fayre together.”

“Probably even alluded to it before that.” Robin looks you in the eye, “You do love him, don’t you?”

You nod, “Of course I love him, Robin! I just don’t want to say it, and then he doesn’t feel the same—“

“Y/N, I’m telling you,” Vickie interrupts you, “He is 100% definitely in love with you. I know that for a fact. We both do.”

Robin nods, making you lean back in your chair and pinch the bridge of your nose, “Why won’t he say it then?”

“Y/N,” Robin starts, “The first girl Steve ever said ‘I love you’ to was Nancy Wheeler two weeks into their relationship, and they broke up a year later. The second was Alena’s mother who walked out when her daughter was a few months old, leaving Steve alone with a child to raise by himself. I think he’s just scared to say it in case you leave, since that’s all he knows.”

Vickie nods along, “But, if you say it first… I think that he might calm down a little. Realise that you are the one taking initiative.”

“Just say it…” Robin says softly, “What else have you got left to lose?”

But, you could have a lot to lose. What if he was just saying it to Robin and Vickie and doesn’t properly mean it? What if you tell him and he doesn’t reciprocate? You’d lose your whole relationship.

You have no time to think as Steve re-appears, reaching for his denim jacket the other side of you, “Right, we ready to go?”

Robin and Vickie smile at you, giving you a look as they begin to stand, collecting their belongings as the four of you head out the main entrance of the shop.

After bidding farewell to Robin and Vickie, Steve drove you back home, him having to clean the house for when Alena got home, and you having to prepare resources for your class tomorrow.

He pulls up to your apartment complex, leading you to the entrance as always, like the gentlemen he is.

You grab his hand, Steve noticing that it was slightly shaking wrapped around his, “Um… Steve? I just want to say something before you go.”

He simply stares back, you taking it as a sign to continue talking. You let out a breath. It was now or never.

“I understand that you’ve been wanting to take this entire thing slowly, and I get that. But, I just want to reassure you that I am in this for the long run. I love how you treat me, and care for me. I love the dates you take me on, they are so varied. I love how kind, and caring, and slightly stupid you can be sometimes. And I guess what I’m trying to say is that… I love you.”

You can audibly hear how his breath hitches in his throat, your brain instantly taking that as a mistake, “But, don’t feel as if you need to reciprocate or anything, because I don’t want to pressure you into doing that. I just needed to let it out—”

Your rambling is stopped by Steve’s lips crashing into yours. You can’t help but let the slight moan slip from your mouth as he deepens the kiss, your hands wrapped around his shoulders as he cups your cheeks. Before the kiss can escalate, Steve pulls apart from you, leaning his forehead against yours as he whispers back, “I love you too,” a goofy smile gracing his features. “Shit, I was just so scared to say anything in case it made you leave, as that’s what usually happens whenever I say those words—”

It’s now your time to interrupt him with a giggle, “I know baby, Robin kind of told me everything.”

He shakes his head, “God, I hate her. Always revealing secrets about me.”

“Damn,” you huff, “Maybe I should hang out with her more, get more juicy details about you.”

He leans back, raising his eyebrows at you, “Absolutely not. I’ve revealed way too much of my life to her.”

You both laugh, “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

“I love you too, Y/N L/N,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you once again. You melt into the kiss, Steve swiping his tongue across your lips, asking for permission to which you accept, opening your mouth and letting his tongue slip in, the lingering taste of his sandwich invading your senses. The two of you moan, you pulling back to catch your breath, realising the two of you were technically stood directly next to a busy road. “Amy’s out with her boyfriend today… So, I have the apartment to myself…”

Steve looks down at his watch, before turning his gaze back to you, smirking and seductively replying, “I think we have time.”

i hope you enjoyed!! i will get to the rest of your asks (and everybody else's) tomorrow and during the course of next week!! ♡

taglist: @livsters @bakugouswh0r3 @nix-rose @ihatepeanutss @cats00089 @suitelif3 @clincallyonline17 @crowssixof @starkeylover @eris-rose-86 @frostandflamesfanfic

[hoiststowline]

valley of tomorrow

hoist x reader

Though the silence was welcomed to instill a lengthy wave of peace, you dared to break such a precious thing. Eyes never leaving the buzzing overhead light as your lips moved to the rhythm of his name, you nearly wince hearing your voice break the quiet. "Hoist?" The mech responds with a hum, notifying you he was listening without words, to which you continue with a much less confident stride. "I've been thinking." 

Just by your delivery, this sends an alert to his processor, as if a rampaging red light was telling him something was wrong. At this, Hoist moves from his position on the berth to sit, one servo splayed out behind him as it supports his upper body, subconsciously knowing what you are headed. "About?" He asks, looking down at you expectingly when you make little effort to pursue your statement. 

"The other day." He watches as your eyes blink and remain closed a beat too long, then when they re-open those colorful irises are staring back up at him. "Can we talk about it?" When he grows quiet, you realize you are overstepping, hastily retreating with heavy apologies resting on your lips.

"No, no." Hoist murmurs, and though his mouth-plate muffles it, it's still at a normal volume. "I said we'd discuss it later, but I suppose I assumed you'd just forget about it." 

It wasn't your place to dig around in his paranoias and fears, especially those that he isn't forthcoming to share, but by accident, you had bled into one of those awful memories. There were very few who understood and even knew of Hoist's pain, but then again, there were very few who would take the moment to listen. 

"Why would I forget about it?" Your hands unclasp at your lower torso as they settle at your sides, tickled by the cold metal. "We're friends, H. I care about you." 

"I know you do." His visor hides the way his golden optics dim and then brighten softly, just at your compassionate words. Hoist feels guilty even thinking about it, even at the mere thought of letting you in. It's not that he doesn't want to, it's that he seeks you out to be that comfort in a raging storm, and if you saw him differently for what he feels, he couldn't cope with such an idea. “I care about you too, y/n.”

"If you don't want to talk about it, that's okay." You say eventually, unsure of what more to do, a culpable feeling settling in your lower stomach. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you,”

"I wouldn't know realistically where to start." Hoist blinks, helm resting on his left shoulder to better address you. "I think you've gathered I have a fear of being alone."

Lips pursed, you shift your gaze to meet his, nodding once. "Yes. I did come to that conclusion in a roundabout way." 

"I can be by myself, but I get anxious at times." His servo moves closer to yours, digit resting atop your hand. "If it's for a prolonged time, that's when it is at its worst."

You move to sit up, but he doesn't want you to, simply keeping his servo gently, but firmly in place. "Does it have to do with the rust spot?" You hadn't intended for it to be a whisper, but it stumbles past your lips as if you couldn't control it. 

"Yeah." Hoist mumbles, now unable to meet your gaze. "I'd like to think that's where it all started. I can't remember being so fearful of solitude before the rust spot." As if he can sense your sadness, he's quick to mend his words. "I'm fine, y/n. I've handled it thus far, it's an irrational fear."

The green mech jolts when you gasp loudly, tiny fingers finding the plating atop his hand as you wriggle free from his hold. "It is not irrational!"

He wasn't expecting an outburst from you like that, but it does calm some of the embarrassment that lingered in his chassis. You were being sincere, truly offended that he even labeled it as such. "y/n-"

"It's not!" Insistent, you move to stand, a frown brimming on faintly trembling lips. "It's something that happened to you, and it is an entirely rational fear and you shouldn't have to suffer in silence for it. Do not dismiss your feelings, Hoist."

There's overwhelming clarity as to why you understood his reverence when most didn't, it's likely because you've had an instance of your own where others simply couldn't comprehend, or took the time to listen to your spiraling thoughts. That is why you were so adamant about having this conversation because you wouldn't want another soul to feel the isolation you felt when others would not take a minute to listen. 

All he wants this very moment is for your soft smile to return, he can't stand to look at you whilst you appear so downhearted. "I didn't mean for you to become so upset. I'm sorry." 

"Why are you apologizing?" It's confused, arms crossing your chest as you stare up at him. 

"Why would I not?" He finally dares to look your way, shoulders sagging as you still have an expression of sorrow. "I can't stand it when you look at me like that." 

Your brow furrows slightly, tilting your head to the left. "Like what?"

"You're about to cry." As if on cue, you sniffle minutely, not on purpose. "I did not intend for this evening to end this way."

"I can't control my tears." You laugh, palms raising to soothe both your flushed cheeks. "But I hate it when you talk about yourself like that."

A sentence lingers on his glossa, tossed around for a few seconds before he stifles it, terrified to ruin such a perfect moment. "y/n, come here," 

You oblige, taking a few shuffled steps forward, and easily fall beneath his shadow. The hand that wasn't supporting his weight comes to settle on your shoulder, presence gentle as his thumb swipes away at a few rogue tears. "M'sorry."

"For what?" He laughs, a confused chuckle as if he could not believe his audials. 

"For crying and for ruining the peace," His touch is so warm, lingering atop soft skin as a single tut of disapproval falls from his masked lips. 

"You didn't ruin anything." Insistent, his digit falls from your face, but both of your hands come to hold it steady there. "Talking about it is good. It was wrong of me to presuppose you'd just forgo the conversation." 

Hoist physically stiffens as you placidly kiss his joint, just along the edge of his finger. Self-admittedly, he's waiting for the next round of words, preparing himself for the wound that is only going to deepen by such an incapable promise, but you never speak them. 

"I'm annoying like that." You laugh, finally relenting on your hold. "Any time you wanna talk about it, I'm here." 

I'm here. Not that black hole of a swear to be there in the rare instances when he needed it. You speak in the present, actually encouraging the exchange when others opt to let it slide by. If he's learned one thing from getting to know you, it is that you never make a promise you don't intend to keep. 

"Annoying? Never," His palm slides down from your shoulder to settle at your feet, cupping the back of your legs with utmost caution. "And understood. Thank you." 

"Anything for you, H." You pause, finding that your hands have awkwardly fallen to your sides. 

"And," He starts, your eyes jumping upwards to meet his. "If you ever have something you'd like to discuss, I'm here too," 

Hoist watches something cross your expression, an emotion that he can't quite place, but for a split second, that glassy look returns to your eyes. You swallow it back, clearing your throat before replying. "Not...tonight." Keeping your composure, you press onwards. "But I will definitely take you up on that someday." 

He nods twice before pulling his servo back, encouraging you to get some sleep. "I've kept you up long enough." 

"No, you haven't." You say, going to lie back down. "Good night, Hoist." 

A small smile erupts behind his face-plate, an action unknown to you, but targeted for you nonetheless. "Good night, y/n." 

[pentuppen]

Luthor 'Rook' de Riva pt.2

Yes i'm back to thrust my Rook into the masses because I'm honestly falling in love with him the more I play him. As someone trying to be a writer, its been very easy to actually construct a personality for this dude as I play along, and I have to say, the big bastard may have to have a cameo in an actual story one day (sans being a qunari obviously)

So Spoilers below for those still making their way through the game.

Luthor likes Neve a lot, and immediately cast her into the 'big sister who may or may not kick my ass', a position solely occupied by Teia up till now. Having her and Harding around is a big relief to Luthor. H has no fucking clue how he ended up in charge of everything, so its a comfort to know Neve will have no issues chewing him out if he starts fucking up. He has a deep respect for the motives behind what she does...which is why choosing to save his home before tending to Minrathous hits the poor guy hard.....They both knew he had an impossible choice, but that doesn't make it suck any less that Neve doesn't quite trust him as much.

Davrin is one of those guys that reminds Luthor that he'll never be as cool as all his new friends. But beyond that, he can see parallels between his and Davrins lives. Luthor also found himself on his own when young, and his need to not be alone, coupled with being built big, made him an easy target for people that wanted to use him. From pit fighting to 'enforcing' for shady people. He was essentially a people pleaser who met all the wrong people. Luthor could have ended up down a very dark path if Teia hadn't seen something in him enough to push him on Viago. But Davrin chose an honourable path, that led him to the Wardens, an institution that Luthor admires despite some of the more unsavory elements coming to light over the years. He probably admires Davrin a lot but likely privately compares how much better Davrin handled that start on life. But mild unspoken resentment is all it is, because Davrin is a solid guy and he has a freakin Griffon!!!

As for Lucanis? Oh boy, poor Luthor was never prepared for that. He took leaving the crows with Varric pretty hard. Teia and Viago put a lot of work into turning a young thug into a force to be reckoned with, as well as providing him with that sense of family that he always lacked. He loved the crows and leaving felt like he'd let himself down hard. It took Varric's patience and a lot of time to think to balance him out while they hunted for Solas.

Then along comes Lucanis. Not only does this put him in the position to have to face Viago and the others, but Catarina, the scariest lady in the world as far as Luthor is concerned. They rescue this dude who is like....10,000 times more cooler than he is, and its about half a week before my poor big lad realises he has about the most ill advised crush on Lucanis, who compounds being hot as hell with being a decent person....for an assassin.

This guys is the likely heir to first Talon, of an institute luthor got half kicked out of. He has a demon in him, but that's not even half as scary as the fact that he's Catarina's grandson! He's impeccable in every way, and for Luthor, ever the people pleaser, hearing that man yell encouragement and praise in the middle of the battlefield, i swear......

....this expression right here, is Luthor's expression every time. If he were an animal I would label him as a super friendly but loyal Cane Corso, and if he had a tail it would fucking wag every time the Demon of fucking Vyrantium, yells "Beautiful Rook!"

I have issues, but I also have writers block and building Luthor up hour by hour as I play helps!

There will likely be more!

[lost-inthemeadow]

Recharging - Daisy Johnson/f!reader (AOS one shot)

Summary: In which Daisy takes care of Y/N when she's tired after a mission.

Features Daisy Johnson and reader.

Word count: 1085.

Having finished preparing the two sandwiches, Daisy poured the boiling water from the kettle, which belonged to Simmons, into a cup. Inside, a green tea teabag waited for the liquid to release its flavor. She added two teaspoons of honey, just as Y/N liked, and grabbed everything, leaving the mess she had made in the kitchen for when she came back in a few minutes.

Y/N was an admirably lazy person. You could always find her napping in the most impossible places, which, if she was being honest, Daisy envied a little. She needed more sleep than most, so big missions, like the one they had just come back from, took a big toll on her.

Y/N's sleepiness had made Daisy's nights so much better. She now slept through the night most times, but even when she couldn't, having her girlfriend sleeping safe and soundly in her arms meant she had a good night anyway.

Back in their bunk, which was where Daisy was headed, Y/N slept despite it being five in the afternoon. She was having what Daisy had labeled a "recharge day", in which her girlfriend, sometimes planned, sometimes spontaneous, like this one, slept for a whole day—sometimes more—straight. During these, Daisy made sure Y/N stayed hydrated and fed.

Despite Y/N trying to deny she was tired, Daisy knew this was coming, so she had planned ahead. As she entered the hallway that led to the bunk, she left the noise of the base behind, having cleared the area of all non-essential personnel so her girlfriend could sleep in silence.

Making sure to be gentle with the door, Daisy went inside the room. Her steps were soft, and her pace was slow. Y/N was curled up, hugging Daisy's pillow, with her messy hair all over her face and her lips slightly apart. The image caused Daisy to smile as she walked up to the nightstand and placed the food on it. She then sat down on the bed, and without daring to blink to not miss it, she whispered:

"Hi, gorgeous".

She knew it wouldn't be enough to wake Y/N up, but that's not why she had done it. The reason was simple, really. Every time Daisy spoke while Y/N was asleep, her lips curved ever so slightly at the sound of her girlfriend's voice, and there was nothing that the brunette loved seeing more.

After giving herself a few seconds to enjoy the view, Daisy approached her girlfriend and removed a flock of hair from her face, putting it behind her ear, which interrupted her sleep. Y/N hated being woken up, but when her eyes opened and she saw Daisy, the only thing she could feel was love swarming her chest. Though she didn't acknowledge it, the smell of the sandwiches hit her as soon as her eyes opened, making her stomach growl with hunger.

"Daisy!" she said in a raspy voice, moving to ease the stiffness in her limbs.

Daisy's heart beat a little bit faster. She liked her name, but it never sounded as beautiful as when it came out of Y/N's lips.

"Hey! I brought you some food," she said softly.

"Food?" Y/N asked, confused, looking around until she found her phone under the pillow she was hugging. As she saw the time, her eyes opened widely. "Shit. I slept the whole day?"

Daisy couldn't help but giggle, as Y/N didn't remember the two times she had already awakened her to drink some water.

"Yes. I told you, you needed a recharge," she said with a grin, loving being right.

"I had a meeting with Coulson today. He's gonna have my head!" She covered her face with her hands for a second, then moved to get up.

Daisy stopped her, grabbing her by the arm. "Don't worry, I rescheduled the meeting for tomorrow".

Y/N's eyes lit up "You did?".

"Yes. He's not mad, though I'd definitely consider buying him a box of donuts if I were you". She pointed to the desk in front of the bed with her head, where a box of fresh donuts rested.

"Thank you," said Y/N as she smiled, but her eyes opened once more a second later, this time filled with fear. "I also had training with May."

"I sorted that out too."

"Mario Kart with Fitz?"

"I had to play with him to stop his rant, but yes." Her thumb started caressing the back of Y/N's hand. "Don't worry, I took care of everything."

See? I told you she had planned ahead.

Y/N looked at Daisy with a dumb smile on her face before pulling her by the arm to kiss her.

While they kissed, her brain finally assimilated the smell of the food. "Mmm," she muttered into Daisy's lips, "what smells so good?"

The brunette reached to grab the meal. She gave Y/N the plate but held onto the cup. "Nothing fancy. Just sandwiches and some tea."

Y/N examined the first sandwich before giving it a bite. The cheesy taste made her stomach growl even harder than before. "Oh god, I didn't know I was so hungry!" she said as she took a bigger bite, causing Daisy to giggle once again.

Daisy gave Y/N the cup, and she hugged it close to her chest, which she always did when she was drinking something hot.

Once Y/N finished eating, and having made sure her girlfriend was full and didn't need anything else, Daisy helped her inside the blankets again, tucked her in, and kissed her forehead. "Go back to sleep now," she whispered, but as she took the first step towards the door, Y/N's hand on hers stopped her from moving any further.

"Are you needed anywhere?" asked Y/N.

Daisy shook her head, knowing what Y/N would ask. She had taken care of that too. "My schedule's clear."

"Stay with me?" Y/N begged, but she didn't have to. As soon as she said the words, Daisy left the dirty dishes on the desk and got under the blankets with her.

"You don't have to ask twice," she replied as Y/N made herself comfortable on her chest.

As Y/N's arms wrapped around Daisy's waist and both of them sighed with pleasure, the brunette thought of the mess in the kitchen and how it'd have to stay like that for the next few hours.

[dreamlessimp]

— chores

summary: neither you, nor nagi enjoy the chores required for functioning. still, it’s better when you do them together.

warnings: nagi seishiro x gn reader, sfw, college au (undetailed), roommates au(?), reader doesn’t like doing chores, 0.7k wc

“if i make this, you have to take down the laundry.” nagi said sleepily. in his hands was a crumpled piece of paper, an overview of the coming semester given to him by his professor.

you saw the small trash can across the room to which he was aiming for. no way he made it while lying down.

“deal.” you said, crossing your fingers. “i’m praying for your downfall.”

unfortunately, you managed to forget that nagi was a well toned athlete.

he raised his arm and after a brief judgment of the distance, he threw the balled up information directly into its target.

he looked at you. “made it.”

you groaned. “i’ll take it later.” you scooted your chair back into your desk in an effort to round off your essay.

“if you’re not doing it now then play a game with me.” he said, meeting your gaze convincingly.

“and stop being productive altogether?” you laughed. “can’t do that.”

still, after a distasteful moment of looking at your nearly done essay, you decided you did have to be productive in at least one way.

you stood up to search the room, looking for any evidence of a stray item of clothing that had escaped the clearly labeled dirty laundry baskets.

your eyes landed on a wrinkled shirt stuffed into a corner. once identifying that it was nagi’s, you quietly walked to his room and lightly threw it onto him.

“huh?” he choked out from under the light shirt, which had landed on his face. he gestured to his phone once he moved the shirt. “hey. i almost died.”

“in real life or the game?” you asked jokingly from another room.

“the game.” he huffed loud enough for you to hear.

sitting up, he saw you wandering around the main room of the dorm past the open door. after a shrug he shut off and pocketed his phone, then made his way to where you were preparing for two trips down to the washing machines.

“i’ll help.” he said, picking up his own laundry basket.

“the bare minimum.” you laughed, aiming a thankful nod to him ensuring he knew you were happily accepting. “even if you did win.”

“which i did.” he said before opening the dorm’s door and allowing you into the main area.

the two of you trudged down the multiple flights of stairs, until you made it to the darkened laundry room. you flicked on the lights with the back of your hand and quickly made the transfer from the laundry baskets to the washing machines. 

nagi turned them on and after you checked to make sure they were actually on, the two of you began walking back.

then, you had a thought.

“if i beat you, you have to do the dishes.” you said with a smile as you approached the stairs.

“in what?” nagi asked. a second later though, he realized with a start that he’d made a mistake. 

“race you.” you announced with a smirk. with that, you began running up the stairs, leaving nagi at the bottom to grapple both of the laundry baskets you’d left behind.

nagi was fast, but with the 2 baskets and your head start, he lost. 

once he met you at the top, his face remained blank as the dropped the laundry baskets to the floor where they landed still standing.

you picked both up, and carried them into your unlocked dorm.

“the dishes need washing.” you teased, sitting on the couch.

“sounds like a pain. i don’t get why we can’t just have a normal dishwasher. doing dishes with your hands is such a bother.” nagi complained, not at all planing to complete the task at hand.

“dorm.” you responded, flatly. you yourself, hated doing the dishes.

nagi remained standing still. it’d be too much of a hassle for him to simply do the dishes, so when he saw you simply sitting on the couch, he took an alternative route.

he walked up to the couch and sat down next to you. it tinted his face red, but he continued steadily scooting himself closer to you.

by the time you noticed him, the upper half of his body was already fully leaning against you. 

“do i have to do the dishes?” he said, voice muffled by his face buried into your head.

the warmth of his body pressed against yours brought even more warmth into your face. “later.” you said with a smile, as you allowed yourself to relax into him.

[ultzwoozi]

“One Step Closer”

currently playing: you broke me first by tate mcrae

pairings: doyoung x reader (but this chapter is mainly/only haechan x reader!) genre: angst/fluff (this chapter is angsty) warning(s): haechan being an ass, using someone as a rebound, haechan gaslighting and gatekeeping but not girlbossing. word count: 2.7k authors note: hii this is my first series! its gonna be small but i hope you guys like it! its gonna be doyoung x reader BUT we gotta look at the past to understand the present! i hope you like the rest :)

summary: the last one hurt you bad, so you swore off dating. what happens when you meet someone who had the same story?

“Tomorrows your big day. How do you feel?” Sitting on your couch with your best friend, drinking and eating whatever snacks were in your cabinet, You sat and took it all in. “It feels unreal woo, like i'm graduating. That's wild. Kinda sad my parents couldn’t make it but at least you and Hyuk will be there.” Wooyoung sighed and turned to face you completely. “I still don’t get why you’re dating him. He barely passed college. He uses everyone hes around, y/n. He didn’t have the best reputation in college or highschool. I also heard that he and his ex didn’t end too well..”

You playfully punch wooyoung and shake your head. “Hey, he's nice. And so far nothing has been wrong. He cares, he’s gonna get a better job after i graduate so the two of us can live comfortably. He promised. He’s been nothing but sweet to me. Maybe he changed. I think I actually love him.. He's so much better than the others, woo. Can you trust me?” Wooyoung shrugged and nodded, he went along with what you said, Hoping it's for the best. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, I'll be back.”

Once Wooyoung was up and out of the way, you pulled out your phone and called the contact labeled “Hyuk 💕” it took a couple rings but he eventually picked up.

“Hey sorry to bother, I hope you're not busy but you’re still coming to my graduation tomorrow, right?” there was silence on the other end for a little while before he spoke up “Yeah of course, i wouldn’t miss it for the world. What time is it?” Wooyoung peeked his head out of the bathroom and figured he’d stay in there for a bit longer so you could talk to your boyfriend.

“Y/n! Oh my god you did it– I'm so proud of you!” That's all you heard all day from everyone. Graduating from medical school is a big achievement. Hearing people be so proud of you at your graduation was something you always wanted to hear. Wooyoung wrapped you in a big hug. “Y/n, I've never been prouder.”

“Thanks woo. Have you seen Hyuck?” Wooyoung gave the biggest face of disgust at you when you asked where your current boyfriend was. He released you from his embrace and pointed to the relatively tall man. He was staring off at the other graduates. He graduated last year, you started dating about 9 months ago. You wondered what he was staring at, but you didn't put much thought into it.

“I’m going to go to him, coming with?” You turn to wooyoung, he shakes his head and points to his best friend, San, who's also graduating this year. “No it's okay, I’m gonna go hang out with San. Let me know if you’re leaving with Donghyuck or me to the restaurant, okay?” You gave Wooyoung a nod and proceeded towards your boyfriend.

He didn’t seem to notice your presence at all until you hugged him from behind, holding the flowers Wooyoung gave you earlier. “Hi! What are you staring at?” Startled, your boyfriend turns to look at you poking out under his arm. “Hm, hi babe. Congratulations!” He hands you a bouquet of flowers similar to Wooyoungs, but instead it's filled with different flowers that aren’t your favorite. Arranged in a certain order, as if it was meant for someone else. Nonetheless, it was a gift from your boyfriend and you gladly accepted it.

“Thanks hyuk. Who were you staring at earlier?” You asked, his face seemed to get sadder before he answered. “No one important, just someone I used to be close to.” You open your mouth to say something when you get cut off by someone calling your name. “Y/n!” you look over and see a man with hair cut nicely, dressed in a button up and black slacks. Next to him was a man around the same height with a pointer nose, dressed similarly. “Jen! I didn’t think you’d make it.” You back away from Donghyuk and hug your cousin, Jeno.

“I wouldn’t miss something like this. Never. I hope you don’t mind, I brought a friend. This is Seokmin, Seokmin, this is my cousin, Y/n.” Seokmin smiled, his smile was bright and warm. He shook your hand and congratulated you. You smiled back and accepted his congrats.

You turn back to your boyfriend, and yet again you see him staring. But this time, you make out who he's staring at. Your friend, Yoonah. Did they know each other? “Yoonah!” You call out to her, she's quick to notice you. It doesn’t take too long for her to notice Donghyuk behind Jeno and Seokmin. The moment she begins to walk closer, Donghyuk excuses himself. He gave you a kiss on your forehead and told you he was going to go collect the others so they could all head out to eat. He left without looking back at Yoonah and went to find the people who came to support you. Jeno and Seokmin followed him.

“Donghyuk? He’s a nice guy.” Yoonah speaks up once he’s out of the way. She’s holding a small card in her hand. “Oh yeah, we’ve been dating for a couple months. He’s nice, do you know him?” Yoonah goes to answer but instead decides to shake her head. “My friends were friends with him, but they had a falling out.” “Ah– I see.” you come to the conclusion that the two were a part of the same friend group.

Yoonah looks down at your hands and notices Donghyuk’s bouquet of flowers. “I didn't know you liked hydrangeas too! They’re my favorite flowers, they're very peaceful. Theyre in the perfect arrangement, you know? the pinks match perfectly with the oranges and yellows.” You nod in agreement, but those aren’t your favorite flower, nor your favorite colors. Wooyoung walks up to you and tells you everyone's waiting. You say your farewells to Yoonah and leave with Donghyuk to the restaurant, Wooyoung and the others following behind.

Dinner went well, everyone had fun. You held hands with Donghyuk under the table. You notice him using his phone more than normal. You’d ask him about it later and just enjoy the presence of everyone for the rest of the day. In the end, You went home with Donghyuk. Wooyoung went back to your shared apartment. When you got home, the two of you immediately crashed in each other's arms. You both were very tired from the day.

It didn’t take long for you to be woken up by the many messages Donghyuk kept getting on his phone. Eventually you decided to grab the phone and look to see what was happening and for what reasons. You didn’t think you’d see him talking about Yoonah to his friends. Nor did you think you’d see that she was his ex. Nor that he had given her that card at graduation. Nor that he had been using you as a rebound this entire time to get over her. Which he hadn’t, he’s still in love with her.

You felt your world crumble. Like nothing more was left. The man sleeping next to you, had been leading you on and using you for a sense of closure. The man who promised to get a better job and live with you, and promised you a life you always wanted, lied. He lied to make things better for himself. At the same time, you can’t help but feel stupid. You believed it, your past relationships were the same way. You were too naive.

You knew there wasn't much you could do now. You can’t control his feelings. The best option was to take evidence of the conversation and leave. So that's exactly what you did. You screenshotted the messages and sent them to yourself. You checked around for more evidence of anything else. You found that he was texting Yoonah some days, saying he missed her. How you were not her.

You didn’t bother to wake him up. You grabbed your stuff and snuck out. It was around 1 am. You just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. You called Jeno to come get you, knowing he’d be awake. “Come on please pick up..” Your cheeks were stained with tears. The moment your heard Jeno’s quiet hello on the other line, the tears came back. “Can you come get me? I’m at Donghyuks apartment, I need to get out of here, please..'' There was silence but the sound of movement being heard on the other line. “Stay on the phone with me, I’ll be right there.”

You went back home to your apartment, Jeno stayed with you. Wooyoung heard the door open and went to the front, not expecting to see you. Once you saw your best friend, You completely broke in his arms. Babbling about what happened and what you saw. “It's not fair, why am I always the second choice? The rebound.” You cried in his arms. Wooyoung just kept telling you to let it out. Jeno stepped out to go get some snacks at the local convenience store, knowing it was going to be a long night.

“I loved him, woo. I thought he loved me too..” all the tears you were holding back with Jeno just all came out. You broke down completely. You never loved anyone as much as you loved Donghyuk. But he played you, and it hurt harder than ever. Wooyoung became silent as he held you.

When Jeno stepped back into the apartment, you were sitting with Wooyoung on the couch. Telling what you saw. “Are you sure?” Jeno came to you with your favorite snack, you took it out of his hands and pulled out your phone. A conversation between Donghyuk and his best friend, Seungkwan, displayed on the screen. “Yes, I’m sure. Even the flowers he bought me were connected to her.” “Did you confront him?” Wooyoung was silent the entire time, he just kept reading the messages. “No, I called you right away. I needed to just get out of there. I just don’t know what I'm gonna do, jen.” Wooyoung stopped reading and looked up at you and Jeno. “Break up with him, I told you from the start he was bad news.”

You hated to admit it, but Wooyoung was right. When you first met, he did give you off vibes but you thought that was just his demeanor. You sat in silence as Wooyoung got up and walked to your rooms to grab blankets. It was silent for a while until someone's phone started ringing. It was Jenos. He picked it up, it was Seokmin. “Doyoung caught what?” Jeno sighed. He turned to you with a sorrowful face. You could tell something happened. “Y/n I'm so sorry but my friend just got cheated–” “No no, that's far worse than mine. Please go comfort him, I have woo. I’ll be okay.” You stood up and hugged Jeno. The strong embrace of your cousin soothed your mind a bit. He grabbed his keys and took his leave.

“I think you should rest for the night. We’ll deal with Donghyuk tomorrow. Together. Okay? Power off your phone, I’ll put on a show or something and we’ll keep your mind off this.” Wooyoung kissed your head and walked over to the kitchen to grab something to drink. You sat on the couch. You stared at your phone, the background being you and Donghyuk smiling and giggling under the cherry blossom trees when they bloomed last spring. You shut your phone off.

When you woke up, Wooyoung was already gone for work. He works at a daycare nearby. Wooyoung was always so good with kids. He was destined to work with kids. It was 9:56 am. You took a deep breath and powered your phone back on. Immediately, You were hit with multiple messages.

Hyuk 💕: Hey babe you left without telling me

Hyuk 💕: where did you go?

Hyuk 💕: are you coming back?

Hyuk 💕: why did you leave?

Woo 🦊💛 : HEYY i left for work but when i come back we’re getting drinks. SO GET DRESSED.

Jen 🐶💙 : I’m so sorry i had to leave last night, i’ll come by later tonight to check on you

Jen 🐶💙 : Don’t worry, i didnt tell your mom :)

Jen 🐶💙 : things will get better, trust

The best option was to answer the most important one first. Donghyuk. You took a deep breath and swallowed back any tears that wanted to leave. It took you a while but you finally thought of something to say.

You : Please don’t contact me again. I know you were only using me as a rebound. You don’t have to keep pretending. You were only using me to get closure from Yoonah. I wish you would've just told me you didn't want anything serious with me beforehand.

Hyuk 💕: I’m coming over, I think it's better we talk about this in person.

You : No, I made up my mind. I think it's better for us to split.

With that you blocked his number. You had the rest of the day by yourself until wooyoung came back home around 6. You figured you could do something productive and go grocery shopping to take your mind off everything. You hopped in the shower and dressed in something comfortable, grabbing your keys and stepping out the house. Trying to calm your mind.

You left the house around 11, you spent the day out. Trying to be productive, there's no need to be hung over on a guy who obviously didn't have the same feelings. You bought things for the house, things for yourself, anything you could afford and felt like buying. When you finally got up and decided its time to go home, it was around 4:30. When you got back home, you saw a shadow standing outside your door. Banging on the door, You heard them call your name. “Y/n, come on, open the door.”

You approached the door and the man. It was Donghyuk. You had no words to say to him. You open the door and let him in. “What do you want, Donghyuk? We’re over, I told you that.” “I want to explain myself, it's not what it seems i promise.” You took a deep breath and decided to hear him out. “You have 10 minutes, I have to get ready for the night.”

“Get ready? For what? Are you seriously going out immediately after breaking up with me?” Donghyuk gave you this look of disgust, similar to the one Wooyoung gave you when you asked where he was at your graduation. “Does it matter? We aren’t together anymor–” “We’re not together anymore because you wanted this to be over. That's why you can’t keep a man because you don’t listen and hear them out.”

You stared at the man who just yesterday felt like the most lovable person. Now today he feels like a stranger. “Are you serious?” you stared at him dumbfounded. Things started to get more heated. “No shit im serious, without even hearing my end you're leaving me and going to– god knows where– tonight to find someone new.”

“Let's get one thing straight, I LOVED you. I told you that. I’ve never told anyone that. And repeatedly you told your friends that I am not Yoonah. That Yoonah was better.” The tears you were once choking back yesterday started to run down your cheeks. “And now you're trying to say it's my fault? Are you serious?”

“That's because it is. You weren’t her, and I was reminded every day about it. Maybe if you tried harder. That's why people cheat on you y/n, that's why people leave you.”

you bit your tongue and kept listening to him go off about how it was your fault. It was all your fault. it got to the point you started to question it yourself, was it your fault?

“You know what, I'm so glad we’re over. Maybe now you’ll realize why you can’t keep a man. I only kept you for so long because I needed someone to replace h–" "I think it's time you go.” Jeno stood in the doorway, staring daggers into Donghyuk.

“Yeah, okay.” Donghyuk stared at you one last time, almost proud of himself for making you cry. He shrugged past Jeno and took his leave. As soon as the door closed, you broke down. Jeno wrapped his arms around you and held you close to him.

You swore off dating since then, that was 2 years ago.

[ghcstao3]

this came to me in a dream but i saw a artist!soap/civilian!ghost post-breakup au sometime last month and it hasn’t left my head because think of the Angst!! like. imagine ghost still having paint stains on his otherwise spotless hardwood floors from where soap used to station his easel. or soap locking away his sketchbook dedicated to just ghost’s face because of his strict no photos rule. actually foaming at the mouth thinking of soap’s journal allll the time

this was good practice because Man i do not write angst often. but in any case! i adored this prompt

-

Simon had been naive to think that there wouldn’t be remnants of Johnny left behind in his home after they’d broken up.

He thinks, looking back, that maybe it had only been some sort of pathetic hope to make it less painful, that he could return home and not have to remember in any part everything Johnny that had invaded over the years. That had infected and melded with Simon until each of their lives had become unrecognizable from the other.

Of course, Simon isn't so lucky. Because in no world is Johnny so easily forgettable, especially not after years of intimacy, or vulnerability. Not after years of real, horribly profound love.

The breakup had been deemed mutual, but it hardly feels that way most days. For the best feels like a complete lie, in retrospect.

Simon forces himself to move on, though. He can’t dwell on emptied spaces and a silence far too loud. He can’t cling to memories of domesticity and the belief that it’d last forever. Simon doesn’t get to have those things. He's not sure why he ever thought that Johnny would be the exception to everything before.

It still hurts seeing the permanent marks left behind in his home, however.

He tries his best to stop thinking about Johnny, and he succeeds for the most part—until he does stupid things like wanting to rearrange the furniture in what had been Johnny’s spaces, and discovers with a bitter fondness splotches of long-since dried paint neither of them had ever thought to clean because there would be more in the future. Because there was meant to be more in the future.

And as he sits on the floor for the first time in months truly missing Johnny, contemplating whether it’d be worth mustering the courage to scrub the floor of these remains, Simon wonders if Johnny has been managing any better than he has.

Probably, Simon thinks miserably. He’s always been the better man.

- - - - -

Immediately after their breakup, Johnny keeps himself together better than anyone thought he’d be able to.

Because they all thought he and Simon were madly in love. And they were, for a while. But things always change, though, don’t they?

As time passes, however, and Johnny settles into a life without Simon for the first time in a very long time, moving on grows increasingly difficult. He’s a mess, quite honestly, as put together as he appears to everyone else.

It’s with anger that he believes Simon is doing better, after everything. Because he’d never been as weak as Johnny. Because he wouldn’t have to think twice about throwing out what isn’t his, unlike Johnny—who cannot stand the thought of looking at old sketches of Simon, but is just as reluctant to burn those final bridges and toss out every journal reminiscent of a life he’ll never live again. Who wants to rip those pieces to shreds but continue to treasure them all the same.

He finds a box. An unmarked, nondescript cardboard box. He packs away every journal he'd dedicated to Simon, tapes the box shut, and hides it in his attic among boxes almost exactly alike. He never labels it, not wanting to offer any more power to those journals—but Johnny can never fully bring himself to forget.

Its presence still gets shoved to the very back corners of his mind. Then finally, finally he can breathe. Finally he can leave those final pieces of what he had with Simon behind.

Johnny is foolish to think that, though. Because he had forgotten just how much of his life, his art had been occupied by Simon. Johnny still sees Simon in so much of what he's created, what he continues to create.

And when he stumbles across one of the first sketches he'd drawn of Simon, in a notebook not separate for the man like all the others, Johnny has to sit and wonder just where they had went wrong.

[odysseywritings]

What Would a Point and Click Adventurer Do?

@flashfictionfridayofficial

(tw cult, dark comedy)

The mysterious island, with its beautiful sparkling ocean and pink sky, held the next important item for Sierra Lucas. Shiny jewelry, strange tools, a taxidermied head, and so much more filled her endless inventory. But a missing slot was reserved for the elusive pink rat, held captive in a luxurious building with an eight pronged sigil and a capital S in-between two overlapping squares.

Sierra rapidly walked to the front, aimed her lips at the golden complex, and said "Golly, these guys aren't short on donations."

Her eyes bugged out and saw the building's security. Sierra needed to be stealthy and clever to distract the armed guards. She sifted through her inventory, saved her progress in a diary titled 'Bomb,' and hoped for the best. She was ready to chuck the bomb until the sizzle alerted the guards and she turned into Swiss cheese.

Thankfully she loaded back to before that horrible event, and went for another item, this time throwing a gem in front of the guards. The two bickered about who saw it first, became impetuously angry, and riddled the other with bullets. She quickly sauntered by and entered the building.

The interior was immaculate and large, yet the the doorways stretched out to cartoonish degrees and she felt she could see the other rooms and a staircase from how compact everything looked. The members were deathly nervous and smiled with gruesomely gummy grins while their eyes shifted like a compass. Any information from them about the pink rat was irrelevant.

"A pink rat? Why, that's the silliest thing I ever heard! Next you'll say it's behind that door there! Oh, and if you see our leader, would you tell him how good I was at lying?"

Sierra continued to browse the gawdy, Escher-esque pastel nightmare house until she saw a door labeled "Get out!" It seemed to be enough for an obedient population.

Sierra opened it and found the cult leader trying to seduce a younger follower. She didn't want to create a scene, so she pulled out her inventory again, and tried finding the subtlest way to dispatch him.

She jabbed 8 poisoned needles into him and he convulsed on the floor. Sierra smiled like a gleeful child.

"You know what they say, it's the dose that kills you, so I brought every dose just in case. Just like Dad taught me!"

Grateful for the rescue, the follower helped Sierra find the pink rat, sad and bored in its little cage as it played a tiny harmonica. Sierra briskly acquired the rat and headed off and wore the leader's clothes.

"My people, you are under new management! Leave now or I will smite and sic my lawyers on thee!"

Most fled but the higher ups chased her and wanted to silence her for seeing too much. The fake religion wouldn't stop until she was dead, and she knew they'd target her to the ends of the earth. She managed to get outside and block the door with the dead guards, but the cult heads kept banging to get out. With little to lose, she poked and prodded the rat for help.

The pink rat squeaked and raised its skinny forelegs out as if to pray. The door was sealed shut with divine rodent energy with a large rat stamp of approval. Sierra sighed in relief and kissed the rat for its help. She could continue her adventure without those duplicitous charlatans hounding her.

Yet her curiosity got the better of her and went through different saves and loads to see what would happen. She decided to throw ordinary table salt on the building and it exploded into a smoking pile of rubble.

"I had a feeling that would work! And no one important died!"

[weaselle]

gods, i feel a glimmer of understanding, like i can almost see a universal truth beyond the ken of mortal mind

its about good and evil, and how hatred works

Like pain, error, anger, and adversity, hatred is a normal healthy thing to experience.

But also like many of those those things, an obsession with being Good and Pure and Happy all the time in this culture makes feeling those things Wrong

So we have unexpressed, unprocessed hatred in us, that our social group tells us is Wrong and Shameful. But then! our social group tells us it IS okay to hate this, specifically.

Now sometimes there are good reasons to hate something. Just like it serves a purpose in an individual, it has it's place in societal dynamics. We started hating on Karens to correct the social behavior of, like, calling the cops on children for selling lemonade or yelling at a person for doing their job or whatever. Pretty unfortunate for the many nice people named Karen, but there was a reason for the public jumping on that bandwagon, there was a social correction at play, and it needed a catchy label.

Now. In a large group that doesn't encourage healthy processing of hatred, there will always be a bunch of people feeling hate

But there isn't always an appropriate or understood target for group hate. But there IS always an easy target. So sometimes the target is a random celebrity who had one (1) bad take, or a once-popular fashion trend, or a food combination, or like, black people.

Because while it is true that hate itself is a natural and normal thing to feel, it is just like how you need salt to live but having a high salt diet will kill you slowly and eating a few spoonfuls at once will kill you quick. Injudicious hatred is poison.

So, sometimes our group (whatever we consider that group to be) tells us to hate this, or that, and it gives us permission to do the thing that was previously Wrong, and it's a relief. It feels good.

And if we have a lot of hate in us (there are many understandable reasons this could be) or if there just isn't a lot of feeling good in our life, then we start to seek out that feeling good, that relief. We start looking for things to hate. Building up that hatred on purpose in some unconscious way. For the relief of expressing it at a socially acceptable target. Because in your experience of this scary difficult life, you feel so much like screaming and throwing things and using your strongest language, but your group says it's only okay to do that at sports and this short list of targets.

And the list changes. It changes slowly over hundreds of years, and it changes quickly, in the age of the internet it can sometimes be daily.

And when that mob of hatred moves to its next target, it leaves some people behind, who get hooked on hating that thing specifically, and who even subconsciously teach their children to process their own hatred by hating that thing.

and that's how hatred spreads and grows

and the only way to only process group hatred in a healthy, issue correcting way is to have a group of people who process their personal hatred in a healthy way, so they don't have all this unprocessed hatred sloshing around in the basements of their souls.

Who say, okay, i feel hate toward that, and that is okay. I am allowed to feel and express hatred (not always to the target tho, maybe you paint about it or something). but also, why am i feeling hatred? Is this a real thing to hate, or is this a me issue? does hating this serve a purpose, and if so, can that purpose be served better some other way? How can i resolve this so that i acknowledge my feeling and address it enough to let it go, so i do not feel this negative stressful thing anymore? Can i do it through a reasonable respectful communication? Through an attempt to change the dynamic or via an action addressing the root cause? or is this something i can resolve inside myself, write a letter i never send, climb a hill and wordlessly scream it out, something i handle in just me

anyway, thoughts on hatred, and how trying too hard to never have negativity is itself pretty harmful on both an individual and a societal level