#like first of all he got the fucking song changes wrong. like for fucks sake you know youre gonna talk abt heathers west end in a video

[lipstickontheglass1985]

day 2 of being 21 years old: got so pissed off by ryan mccartans objectively wrong opinions on heather the musicals west end production i literally started crying

[marleyybluu]

Another Man's Treasure

Oscar Diaz x f!reader

Word count: 6.8k (I am so sorry lmao)

Warnings: 18+, shitty husband, smut, p in v, unprotected (but pls don't be this stupid), creampie, dirty talk, cheating (but is it really if your husband is an ass), flirting, fluff, love at first sight type shit, Spanish/English pet names (pretty lady, hermosa, cariño), limited use of y/n(I literally used it once) idk lmk if I missed any.

(I only mention the first song but the other two are more for the… spicy scene😏)

——

The only escape from reality you had was the small moments of disassociation you had between the screaming of your children and the-

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

The shouting of your overgrown child of a husband playing his stupid games on his stupid PS5 that you wanted to set on fucking fire. This is not the life you pictured as a stay-at-home mom, yes the piles of dirty laundry were expected, and the mountainous dishes in the sink but you never predicted you'd be doing this alone. Your own mother stayed at home with you and your two brothers but your dad would still help her around the house so that she got the time to kick her feet up and relax.

You never got that.

You were living with this dark cloud over your head and deep regrets in your mind, why did you marry this man? You did think he was the love of your life, three years together before you got married proved your theory but never did you think it was going to end up like this. The amount of work you did was overwhelming, just one look at the number of toys on the floor made tears sting your eyes. You were tired, exhausted, drained and absolutely depleted.

If this was a job, you'd quit, you would take your children and quit. You wanted to so badly but the small hope of him changing clung to you like a piece of lint. You sighed holding your eleven-month-old on your hip while you made him a bottle, anything to keep him from wailing in your ears-- Jesus, half the time you couldn't hear.

"Babe!"

Your eyes rolled, you loathed his voice at this point. "What?"

"Can you pass me a water bottle?"

"Get up and get it, I'm making Malakai a bottle."

He groaned. "For fuck sake, you're in the kitchen already."

Your nostrils flared, and your eye twitched. You wanted to cuss at him, shout at him until your voice box shattered but you kept whatever calm you had left and ignored him. A small hand landed on your nose and you smiled kissing the tiny palm. "I love you too bubba."

He flashed a little smile and your heart sobbed at the fact that your last baby was growing so fast, teeth already emerging from his gums when just months ago he didn't have any. You could never regret your three little creatures, you loved them dearly, so much so you were willing to put up with the man that helped you create them just so they could have a two-parent household but you didn't know how much longer you could take this.

Heavy footsteps trailed inside the kitchen, you could tell he was angry at the fact that he had to pause his little game just to grab some water. He looked over the sink, utterly disgusted by the site in front of him and instead of just keeping his mouth shut or for once volunteering to do them he decided to spit out a sentence that made you want to knock his head off with the glass bottle you were holding; "You need to wash the dishes."

Your blood was boiling, if life was a cartoon you'd have steam coming out of your ears. "Why don't you get off of the game and do them?" You bit.

He cracked open the bottle cap. "Hey, I'm the one that works all week, you just stay home and do nothing."

Nothing? NOTHING!?

That was it.

That was the tip of the iceberg.

Your shoulders dropped and he left the kitchen, there was that ringing in your ears again that came and went every time you zoned out. Ever since you got married you'd felt nothing but unappreciated by him, you quit your job to stay home with your children and not even a thank you, you made sure he had a good meal when he went to work and all you got in return was an "it was okay." And the disgustingly dirty dish tossed right in the sink you'd just emptied. You were at the end of your rope.

You held back your tears and lightly kissed your son on his head handing him his bottle and putting him on a beam bag so he could lay down and drink. You trotted upstairs to check in on your oldest twins who were in their room colouring and getting along for once. Then you headed to the bathroom locking the door behind you, your body sliding down to the floor, you curled up in a ball burying your head between your knees you let out a long and heavy sigh before your river of tears took over.

A cry session your body and mind were so used to. You wailed into the void, muffling your weeps so that your children wouldn't hear you and come asking what was wrong, a question you couldn't answer without them turning on their father and you didn't want to ruin that relationship they had with him.

You were just so tired.

--

As night fell you remained mute when it came to your husband, whatever he had to say you didn't respond to, you were just happy that it was Sunday and soon he'd be out of your face for a few hours.

With the kids all asleep you were in the kitchen on FaceTime with your older brother. "The kids are great, they're sleeping." You conversed.

"And how have you been?"

There was no hiding how you felt when it came to your siblings, you were the baby and the only girl so when you were hurt they knew and they'd do whatever they could to fix it. "I'm okay... I'll be okay." You reassured. He was the only one who knew some small details about what you were going through and you begged him not to say anything not even to your mother until you figured out how to deal with everything yourself.

"Hey, listen, Jordyn is going on vacation next week, she's hitting Fiji, and I think you should go with her."

You squinched up your face, you didn't have a problem with your brother's wife, always so thankful for the sister you never got but what about your kids? Could you even trust that man to take over your duties even for a day?

As if he read your mind he continued. "I mean it'll be summer break next week, and they can stay by me if you want. I just, I really think you need time away from life. I want to see my little sister happy."

You pouted, it really touched your heart how concerned he was. A vacation would be wonderful, it was all you could dream of after the kids were born, you loved them but you just wanted to be by yourself.

"I'll think about it."

"Well, don't think too hard." He joked. "Whatever. I gotta get their lunches together, I'll call you when I make my decision."

"Sounds good, night."

"Night."

The call ended and you finished packing the twins' lunch placing the bags on the only empty spot on the counter. You huffed at the dishes and your husband's words replayed in your head. Nothing. You do absolutely nothing.

The longer you stared a vengeful plan began to brew. You were about to show him what doing nothing meant.

--

You decided you were going on that trip, Jordyn was excited and your brother was happy with your choice. The week flew by quickly, you kept up your normal appearance of keeping the house clean and to your husband's liking and by each day you grew more distant from him not like he cared in the first place.

On the last day of school you explained to the twins that you were taking a trip with Aunty Jordyn and they, unfortunately, couldn't come but they'd be staying with their uncle and they'd loved that man to death so they were excited either way. Your house was a mess and for once you smiled at it, you'd been letting everything pile up for the last two days, packing the clean clothes they did have in advance. The only explanation you gave your husband was that they were all staying by your brother for the week but you didn't mention that you weren't coming back.

You were leaving tonight and there would be no stopping you. You loaded the van with their stuff and yours and hollered for them to get their little butts in the car. "Last one in the car has stinky feet!" You laughed at the building volume of stomping feet coming across the hall and down the stairs, your twins were out and your youngest sat on your hip giggling at their antics. You happily wrote a short note.

Bye.

That's it.

You showered your baby in kisses and grabbed your keys before heading out the door, you locked it and made your way to the car, buckling in your baby and making sure the other two were in securely. You closed the door and first time in a long time you felt a weight off your shoulders, you smiled in satisfaction at how you left the house knowing you were not going to answer a single phone call from that man.

--

Jordyn squealed. "Ugh! I am so excited I don't even know what to do with myself!" You laughed at her enthusiasm as you put your hair up in a ponytail. It was day 2 of your trip and you were living life, you couldn't remember the last time you felt this relaxed. Now, of course, you missed your children it'd been the longest you'd ever been apart from them so you were a bit clingy with the calls but it was all understandable.

You two were hitting the beach today and you were a bit nervous, nobody had seen your body in almost a year not even your husband but Jordyn had persuaded you to find your behind in a two-piece bikini and you argued that you'd wear it as long as you could wear a cover-up so it was a deal. You looked yourself over in the mirror, you felt oddly confident. You looked fucking good. Three kids did your body right.

"You sure you want that cover-up?" She teased watching you admire yourself. "Hmm," You angled your lower half so you could check out your bum, how plump it had become over the years. "Maybe not."

She winked. "That's my girl."

You two grabbed what you needed and headed down to the beach which was right in front of the hotel you were staying at. The slight wind brushed against the water sending a cool and comforting breeze your way, your ears wiggled at the sound of the waves, and the giggles of other vacationers enjoying their time like you were.

The cushiony sand had greeted your toes after overflowing onto your sandals. You two travelled until you found a decent spot, it was close to the bar and the body of water. You set up your area as best as you could but you were in a battle with the beach umbrella Jordyn insisted on bringing. She watched with her hand covering her mouth to camouflage her laughter. "Okay, you know what, I'll handle this and you go handle us some drinks."

You childishly stuck out your tongue and strutted your way over to the bar, you hopped on an available stool. The bartender noticed you asking for you to just give him a minute. "No worries." You responded. You went on your phone and checked the many pictures your brother sent of your children, you smiled and a bit of sadness tugged at your heart. You missed your babies dearly.

The number of messages went up and it could only be one person. You promised you wouldn't look but you just had to, you swiped and tapped on your husband's name.

Where the fuck are you!?

The house is a fucking mess!

I'm not cleaning up, I hope you know that.

Baby, come on, we can work this out. Please.

You scoffed at the last message and put your phone down casually being greeted by the bartender who watched your various emotions while you went through your phone. "Everything's okay?"

Oh. Wow.

He presented a sweet smile, your eyes slightly widening at the sight in front of you. He was handsome, scratch that, he was fine as fuck. The shaved head didn't usually work on a lot of men but it did him justice, the scattered tattoos on his pretty and tanned skin, his broad shoulders that looked like they were made for legs to be hooked on and not to mention his big arms that looked like they could hold you snug and tight all through the night.

"Uh, yeah, everything's... everything is good." You stammered, a queasy feeling crept through you as it settled in your lower stomach. Butterflies? But you couldn't even remember what that felt like in order to come to that conclusion.

"Good to know. What can I get you, ma?"

You shuddered at his voice. He could talk to you all day.

"One Long Island, and one Piña Colada please."

He nodded. "Starting off slow I see." He chuckled. "Eh, we're on vacation, gotta soak it all up before we go back."

"I see," He multitasked making your drinks and conversing. "And when does the pretty lady go back?"

You blushed, should you even tell this literal stranger when you're actually leaving? But he felt... comfortable, easy to talk to and it's not like you'd ever see him again. "End of the week."

"Oh, you have plenty of time to get shit-faced." He encouraged. He'd finished your order and placed the liquored-down drinks in front of you. "Don't worry about paying yeah? It's on the house. Enjoy your vacation pretty lady."

"Y/n... you could just call me Y/n."

Not like you wanted him to, pretty lady was working just fine

"Nice to meet you. Oscar... Diaz." He winked. "Thanks, for the drinks."

"Anytime, pretty lady."

Your legs felt wonky as you walked away, and your breathing quickened. You did your best to walk back to Jordyn without looking back, if you did you were pretty sure you'd fall, just clumsy as fuck. "Girl, that man was watching you walk away." She whispered. "Stop." You poked, shoving her drink toward her. "Oh please, his eyes were on you." Jordyn gazed over to the bar, "He's still staring."

You casually whipped your head around and sucked your teeth when you noticed he wasn't. You glared at her. She snickered taking a sip from her Long Island. "Makes good drinks too."

You sighed, "Shut up."

The topic was silenced, you downed a few more drinks but sent Jordyn to get them instead while you swam around in the cooling water, floating around enjoying the peace the water brought you. But you couldn't help but occasionally look over to the bar. Oscar Diaz... nice name. Nice face. Cute little moustache that sat above his lips and a goatee that sat below. Pretty rosy pink lips...

Your eyes darted away. You're married.

Are you though?

You swam back up to the beach, it was beginning to get dark and the patrons on the beach became scarce. You wrapped yourself in a towel and collected anything Jordyn hadn't packed up yet. "You want one more drink before they close up? Maybe your new friend will allow it." She teased. You took off your flip-flop and threw it at her but your reaction only made her laugh.

A familiar voice was heard behind you. "So she's beautiful and she's got good aim, better watch out." 

You quietly gasped. "Hi... Oscar."

"Hey, uhm, listen I own a club not too far from here and you know it's a decent hangout for the locals... and the visitors." He winked. "Wanted to know if you two would like to come check it out?"

You fought back a smile. "We could try." You answer without even thinking. "I'll take that," He reached into his pocket handing you a folded piece of paper, you assumed had the address of the place he owned. Your fingers brushed against his, prickles felt like they were forming on your skin and those weird feelings returned in your lower stomach.

He sent you another wink and headed back off to the bar to close up.

--

Of course, Jordyn was down to go. You groaned internally as you two pulled up to a crowded place, looking up at the illuminated sign reading Cloud 9. Hmm, cute. You pulled down your dress as it rose up with each step, your heels clicking against the cold ground, the music booming so loud you could feel your body vibrating the closer you got to the entrance, flashing lights of different colours beamed through the door every time it opened blinding whoever entered. "Where's your friend?" Jordyn asked. "Have patience, I just told him we got here."

"Mhm." She sassed. Your heart thumped in your ears, it pounded against your chest. What were you doing? It was a question you asked yourself from the moment you got back to your room and began to get ready for tonight. You shook off your thoughts and shifted your eyes over to a black door that slowly began to open. "Hey, over here." Oscar waved you two over and you followed. "What's going on, pretty lady?... And pretty lady's friend."

Jordyn nodded at him as a silent greeting, she was just here to observe your anxious behaviour for her entertainment. "Come on," You followed him through a dimly lit hallway and up a flight of stairs, your nerves building and sudden regret forming in your bones until you entered a brighter atmosphere, the loud music returning to your eardrums. He had led you two to a section that only had a few people, you could assume it was the VIP section.

"Anything you two want to drink just let me know and I got you."

Jordyn raised her eyebrows at the tempting bottle of unopened champagne sitting in a bucket of ice. Oscar chuckled granting her permission to open it, she shimmied her shoulders in excitement and got to work. You shook your head at her, you travelled over to the balcony and looks down at all the patrons having the time of their lives, a few familiar faces from the resort and others that weren't recognizable which you could only assume were locals.

Oscar found his place beside you and nudged your shoulder with his. "You want anything to drink?"

"No, not yet, I'm good."

He slowly nodded. "So, what are you doing in Fiji? Besides vacationing."

You huffed, "I just needed time to myself... to get away from shit."

"I hear that." You could just feel those sweet and curious brown eyes boring into the side of your head, you poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue and looked down at your shoes, just anything to not make eye contact with him. You were shy, you were never shy not even with your husband when you first met him. It's like this was a new feeling, you were queasy and nervous and it honestly felt good in a weird way-- it felt good to not be comfortable, to get all flustered over someone like a schoolgirl crush.

"You really own this place?"

He scrunched up his face. "Half own, I guess. My brother and I came here for an escape just like you and we ended up staying. Now, we own Cloud Nine and I work down at the resort once in a while."

"Oh, you're a busy man."

"I try to be." Oscar chuckled. He was so easy to talk to, why was he so easy to talk to?

You found yourself moving a bit closer. "What were you trying to escape from?"

"Life. I wasn't happy where I was living and I wanted better but... given the circumstances, we just couldn't get it. So I threw a dart on a map, so to speak, it landed on Fiji and we've been here ever since."

"Where are you from then?"

"Originally born in Mexico, we moved to LA, and then out here."

"Would you ever go back to the States?" You asked finally looking up at him knowing he hadn't taken his eyes off you all night. He leaned forward, officially entering your bubble. "If I had a good enough reason... yeah."

You looked up at him through your lashes and softly smiled, meanwhile, Jordyn sat on the couch sipping and shaking her head at the sight in front of her. She would playfully scold you in the morning but tonight she'd let you have your harmless fun.

As the party went on you were getting a bit bored being upstairs so you grabbed your girl and headed downstairs to where the crowd was and of course Oscar was right behind you, he felt a sense of protection over you two tonight given this was your first time out here and inside his establishment. You had found enough confidence to start dancing around, a little two-step from left to right to get you going, but soon the constant flow of drinks Jordyn handed you helped you loosen out of that as well.

The DJ was beginning to play all the oldies, and that was your specialty. Oscar watched in adornment as you killed every lyric, every adlib and every beat to whichever song came on. It had transitioned from a bit of Hip-hop to something a lot slower.

  "Right now, we're gonna slow it down a bit, so grab your lovers and take your time."

The lights changed to blue and a recognizable first note had you close your eyes.

Mmm ooooh, my my my my my my my babyyy ouuuuuu

Jordyn had already found herself dancing with a random woman. She looked widened her eyes at you and quickly flicked them over to Oscar, trying her best to encourage you to make your move. But he was faster. You felt yourself being pulled into his warm embrace, his strong chest against your exposed back, his hands carefully snaking around your waist as if he was worried about you rejecting his touch but you gladly welcomed it.

Melting into his hold you two swayed side to side, he leaned down comfortably nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. You were lost in the vibes of Keith Sweat's Right and a Wrong Way. You reached back hooking your arm around his neck lightly scratching his scalp with your nails. "You smell so good, mamita." He whispered, it was a miracle that you heard him. Your lips parted slightly as you felt his warm breath tickle your skin. His swift hands ran up your sides resting right under your breasts and gliding back down to your hips.

A thumping began between your thighs, now that was something you hadn't felt in a long time. You put that feeling to the side no matter how hard it was to do so. The rest of the night it felt like all the songs were targeted for just you two, you hadn't eased up on him once-- always in close proximity to him. He touched you in simple ways, ways you hadn't been touched in almost a year.

It was getting super late, almost three in the morning and you couldn't recall the last time you were out like this, it'd give you hell when you woke up but it was worth it. You and Jordyn rode back to the resort with Oscar, she exited the car first thanking him for the night out and wobbling her way inside. You giggled watching her walk away, "I should get in there before she tries the key on the wrong room."

But you didn't want to leave him.

And he didn't want to leave you.

"Thanks for tonight, I had a lot of fun."

"No problem, anything to help a pretty lady escape." He bit his lip. "What are your plans for tomorrow?"

"Recovering," You laughed, "But other than that nothing."

"Can I see you again?"

You gulped and nodded. "Mhm."

He laid out his palm your eyebrows furrowed as you rested yours on top of his, he brought the back of your hand to his lips and placed such a gentle kiss on your skin. "Goodnight, mamita."

You wanted to scream. You left the car putting a little swing in your hips as you walked away, you looked over your shoulder and sent him a cute little wave before disappearing behind the doors.

— —

And that's how you spent the rest of your trip, shamelessly flirting with Oscar. You got to know each other a lot more, when you weren't spending time with Jordyn you were with him. Giggling like an airhead and blushing red like Rudolph's nose.

Jordyn constantly teases you about the crush you'd seem to quickly develop.

"Is this stupid?" You ask shoving your face in the pillow. This all felt too good to be fucking true, a guy that you met only four days ago was treating you so much better than the man you married four years ago. Oscar had flowers for you at the front desk of the resort every morning and sent you the sweetest messages throughout the day about how he was thinking of you, how he caught a glimpse of you today and you looked stunning, calling you the prettiest woman he'd ever seen step on this island.

You convinced yourself they were all lies, sugarcoating you like he probably did every woman but who were you fooling? Certainly not yourself and certainly not Jordyn.

"It's not."

"I'm married." You argued tiredly to which she fake yawned. "I don't see a ring on that finger and I don't see that man treating you any better than Oscar has. Just saying."

The fingers on your right hand brushed your vacant ring finger, you'd taken it off the minute you got on the plane, you didn't want to be reminded of him on this trip at all and yet there was that piece in the back of your mind that reached out to him. Checking his messages once in a while but never responding, he was giving you the attention you wanted but it didn't feel right.

The fact that you had to spontaneously leave to get even a fraction of what you were asking for was bullshit. Downright bullshit.

You groaned sitting up the pads of your fingers now rubbing your temples, tired and stressed. The trip was almost over and you dreaded going back to that house that was no longer a home. He'd sent you pictures that he'd finally cleaned up but you had a feeling once you returned home things would go back to the way they were and you did not want that.

"I think your brother would agree with me, you've smiled more in these past few days than I've seen back home, I mean you two are always so distant when you come over. And don't think I don't hear your rants when you and your brother are on the phone. Now I don't condone cheating but, hey, I didn't see shit."

You sighed checking your phone for any recent texts from your husband but Jordyn caught wind of what you were doing and snatched your device. "Enough with him. Flirt and have fun before you have to go back to normalcy."

You heard your phone buzz in her hand, she looked at the message for you. "Speaking of, someone is downstairs."

You felt nauseous. "Where are you two going anyway?"

"Down to the beach, said he has to restock the bar... and I wanted to spend time with him so I offered to help."

"Mhm." She winked. You grabbed your phone back from her grasp and told her you'd be back soon. You left your room, entered the elevator and headed downstairs where Oscar was happily waiting for you. "Hola querida." He become more comfortable speaking Spanish around you, especially when he noticed how the little nicknames got a reaction out of you.

"Hi," Oscar noticed the shaky tone in your response and made note of it You had comfortably slipped your hand inside his, he immediately hooked his fingers in the spaces of yours. Like he was your puzzle piece.

You two headed down to the decent-sized Hut, your eyes widened at the number of boxes sitting on the sand. "Don't worry, I got the heavy bottles, you just get the small ones." He reassured pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You loved those, so innocent and sweet, although you wish sometimes he'd kiss you on your lips or you had to courage to kiss his. "Think I can't handle the big boxes?" You scoffed walking inside after him.

"I think you can, I just don't think my pretty lady needs to."

My pretty lady.

ugh!

With music playing in the background you two got to work, "Do you still think about running your own restaurant?" You asked sparking a conversation, you squatted down to the lower shelves and propped the glass bottles in an organized fashion, eyes tearing through the material of your sundress and you could feel them. "I do, yeah. Why?"

You bit your lip. "Would it still be down here?"

There was a beat of silence. "Most likely."

Another pause in the moment aside from your soft humming to the music. "You excited to see your kids?" He asked. You smiled at the mere thought of them. "I am. My three little headaches." Oscar found himself next to you, leaning against the counter, you stopped your movements and looked up-- he had one arm folded over the other and a bit of a scowl on his face.

"What?" You innocently question standing up to match his eye line, well more-like chest line. "Nothing, just trying to take my time to remember this face." He reached for your cheek, his fingers ghosting your flesh. "You flirt like this with all the girls here?"

A question that was supposed to come out jokingly but you were a bit serious. "Nah," You squinted at him watching his lips press together, his chest stuttering as he held back a laugh. "You asshole, I knew it." A dramatic hand to your heart as you playfully pouted at him and fake cried. Oscar's arms enveloped you in their warmth, you attempted to push him off but it was no use, your feet suddenly off the ground, you squealed and giggled as he switched positions with you plopping you on top of the counter.

He placed his palms flat on the side of your thighs while he was positioned comfortably between them. "To be fair, hermosa, it is kind of my job. But believe me when I say I've never spent any time with them. And I've definitely never brought them back here after hours." His thumb and pointer finger pinching your chin. "Just you, princesa."

You melted, your whole body could be seen physically slumping in his hold. His eyes sparkled while he looked at you, the crinkles in his eyes appearing as he smirked. Before you could comprehend anything his lips brushed yours, your head suddenly becoming foggy with the inappropriate images of him that you'd conjured up these past few days.

His nimble fingers danced along the hem of your dress, a rush of heat passing over you as he hiked it up further exposing more of your flesh.

This was no longer a want... it was a need.

Your hands landed right under his jaw as you pulled him in crashing your lips onto his and he happily reciprocated your energy, his hands wandered up to your hips tugging you closer to him as if it were possible. Your lips moved as one, tongues passing by in the heat of the moment, the only thing on your mind was him and you wanted it to remain so for as long as possible.

Tingles scattered around your body, both of you flushed with lust and arousal. Your hands travelled to the bottom of his shirt quietly begging for him to take it off, you needed to feel his skin, thankfully he got the message-- pulling away for a brief moment to remove his top. Your eyes glazed over his lightly tanned skin, little scars here and there you can only presume he earned before he got here.

You smiled at the strewed ink on his torso, chest and ribs. "What are you thinking about?" He inquired. You looked back up into his brown iris'. "I wish I had met you first." You mumbled drawing him back down, this kiss was a lot more passionate and slow unlike the first.

Oscar's hands gently tugged at the neckline of your dress, your breasts spilling over and his calloused hands finding them. You softly moaned against his lips, your nipples hardening from the cool breeze and his fondling. He pinched and rolled them between his fingers, your head tipped back and his teeth nipped at the column of your neck.

You were forming a small pool in your panties at his teasing. His tongue grazed your neck continuously licking and sucking a specific spot that was getting a squirming reaction out of you. You felt his devilish smile, he knew what he was doing to you and he liked it.

His hands moved from torturing your swollen breasts back down to your thighs shoving your dress up until your little black panties were on display. You sat on the edge of the counter making it a bit easier for him to remove them, the cool air hitting your soaking slit.

"Touch me, please, touch me." You whined not caring about how desperate and needy you sounded. Oscar listened to your pleas and dipped one hand between your legs, his fingers quickly finding your slick folds. You shuddered as he glided two fingers up and down, dipping them inside you once in a while.

You were soaking, you were throbbing, and you just wanted him inside you where he fucking belonged. He slowly plunged his fingers inside, you clench around them happy to have something pleasuring you. Your eyes are closed and your legs spread further for him, nails digging into his shoulder blade hopefully leaving little indents.

He pumped them in and out of you with the squidgy noise of your wetness to follow. "Yes... oh yes, like that."

Oscar felt himself twitch under his boxers using his other hand to undo his belt and pulled down his materials. His dick is hard and his tip a rosy pink turning cherry red oozing with a bit of cream, his hips buckled once his hand brushed over it-- equally as desperate as you were. Your erotic moans were like music to his ears, so much sexier than he could've pictured. You whined once he removed them your hole flexing around nothing as you caught your breath.

Oscar hooked your legs over his arms spreading you to his desire, you reached between your bodies firmly (but not too tight) grasping his length and guiding it to your entrance, his swollen head prodding inside you as the rest of him followed.

Your jaw slacked at the feeling of him deliciously stretching you out, he was so thick and it felt so nice. Oscar croaked out a moan while burying himself deep inside your warmth-- coating his dick with your sticky walls, so slick and welcoming that he didn't want to move.

You caressed the back of his neck as he pressed another kiss on yours, trailing it up the side and finally landing on your mouth. You giggled into the kiss, Oscar pulled back with a questioning look. "I can't tell the last time I felt like this." You mumbled under your breath but he heard you. He didn't want you to leave, hell if you didn't have kids he'd probably try to convince you to move out here with him.

He didn't say anything in response just pulled out and pushed back in. "Fuck." You both moaned.

His head dipped back down, nibbling on your sweet skin.

You whimpered through every tantalizing stroke he gave you, his tip poking right at your hot spot and you knew you wouldn't last. "You feel so good!" A sentence broken by little gasps. Oscar grunted, violently gripping your thighs as he pounded you, pulling the filthiest sounds from your pretty little throat. So loud and erotic he was sure they could hear you back at the resort.

Your eyes squeeze in absolute bliss, your head hazy from the constant pleasure you received, quickly feeling a sensation in your lower belly a wave of heat threatening to take over. Your palm lay flat on his back while the other gripped the edge of the counter.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Oscar!"

He lifted you off the counter a bit, relentlessly slamming into you now. Your high getting closer and closer. "I can, shit, I can feel you mamita. So fucking tight."

Your toes curled and your eyes rolled. "Baby, ohhh, I need to..."

Oscar smiled. "You wanna cum for me, baby? Come, mi amor, all of it."

His words tipped you off the edge, your back arched and your body trembled from the shockwaves of your orgasm, he held you closely revelling in your pulsating pussy dripping down his shaft.

He quickly brought you off the countertop, your wobbly legs barely holding your support. He turned you around, you barely recovered from the first position.

You were sensitive and extra wet just how he wanted you. You flinched when he pressed himself against your entrance once again, pushing in ever so carefully. "Fuck... you."

He laughed menacingly, his hands squeezing your hips. "That's what I'm doin' pretty lady."

You wanted to give him a smart-ass answer but it was cut short when he began to move. Your nipples were hard against the surface, you rested your head down and whined. "So fucking good."

"Yeah?" He chuckled spanking you. He was enjoying the pornographic sounds that you provided, all going straight to his dick.

He wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you up against him, back pressed on his chest, his warm breath in your ear. "Can't get enough of you I swear." He admitted.

He poked and prodded against that familiar spot, tears of overwhelming pleasure threatening to spill when he pinched your nipple. "Fuck! I'm gonna miss you, so fucking much."

"You gonna think about me?"

"Yes! Oh!"

You felt him twitch inside you, you smiled egging him on. "I won't stop thinking about you, when I touch myself I'll picture it's you-"

"Fuck, cariño,"

"Ou, you're the only one I want inside me."

You convulsed around him feeling another orgasm quickly building and getting ready to fall apart. A few more thrusts and Oscar held himself still inside you, your body shivering at the warm cream he just spilled inside you. His high triggering yours. You reached behind hooking your arm around his now sweaty neck.

The sound of the wind against the water and the waves crashing describe exactly how you felt right now.

"Oh... my god." You said breathlessly.

"You're okay?" He asked with a laugh. You giggled tipping your head back on to his shoulder. "Better than okay."

He sighed kissing your back. "I meant it..." You said.

"What?"

"I'm gonna miss you."

He smiled sheepishly. "I'll miss you too."

--

Those moments replayed in your head constantly, it was the only thing getting you by once you came back home. You two still talked every day, called and FaceTimed but it wasn't enough. You would stare at the prices of tickets and sigh, you couldn't afford to go back right now.

Your life was the same, unloved and unappreciated, despite the embarrassingly desperate messages your husband had sent when you were on your trip. You stared at another pile of dishes, your shoulder sinking with exhaustion. With your two older ones at school and your son almost an hour into his nap you decided to just relax. You clicked on Netflix and attempted to finish Bridgerton's, Queen Charlotte.

Your eyelids felt heavy, sleep threatened to take over but the doorbell had them shoot open. It wasn't just one ring it was multiple and it was annoying so you assumed it was your brother. You groaned trudging to the door. You swung it open aggressively, ready to give him a piece of your mind. "You're going to wake-"

There he was. Standing in front of you, on your doorstep... at your house. "O-Oscar..." You poked his chest to see if he was really there. "Said I'd come back when I have a good reason." Your eyes softened, your arms reaching for him. His lips immediately find yours. "I," kiss, "fucking," kiss "missed you."

Your legs wrapped around his waist as he stepped inside closing the door. He carried you over to the couch and plopped you on the cushions. You laughed, your mood immediately changing with him around. "Jordyn told you where I lived didn't she?"

He nodded. You rolled your eyes. "Of course."

"Not happy to see me?"

You pulled him down for another kiss.

"Beyond happy."

I was going to wait until the weekend to post this but I am a little too excited to get this out.

Shoutout to my girl @darqchilddaydreamz for her input on a few things and her encouragement. Holdin it down ✊🏾

if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic, comments and reblogs are appreciated.

Alsooooo thank you for 800 followers, yall cool as fuck thanks for fucking with me and my antics.

Peace and love see you in the next one✌🏾

🏷: @darqchilddaydreamz @skyesthebomb @realhotgurlshit

[eiightysixbaby]

i've got you under my skin now

word count: 2.9k

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x rockstar!fem!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI. SMUT SMUT SMUT. kind of asshole!eddie but he's really just a moody baby, oral (m receiving), masturbation, reader and eddie argue but everything is consensual, really just absolute filth with a plot.

summary: you're an up-and-coming musician in the rock scene and have been asked to join corroded coffin on a song. only thing is, their singer - eddie munson - proves to be challenging to collaborate with.

author's note: my first lengthier work so sorry in advance if there are errors! this is a daisy jones and the six inspired one-shot, and for the sake of this fic i directly reference the title and lyrics of the song 'honeycomb' from the tv show - but you really don't need to know the book/show to understand. ok anyways hope u all like it and here u go @taintedcigs i know u've been waiting for this one em i hope u love it!!

“Honestly Eddie, I don’t care anymore! I’m not listening to your little rockstar tantrum. She’s coming in, and she’s joining you on the song. That’s final.”

Eddie scoffs at his manager. Ever since he was informed that ‘Y/N - biggest fucking nobody in the rock scene’ was going to be coming in and recording his song with him, Eddie had been relenting.

Eddie scoffs at his manager. Ever since he was informed that ‘Y/N - biggest fucking nobody in the rock scene’ was going to be coming in and recording his song with him, Eddie had been relenting.

“Tom, you don’t fucking get it man. Clearly. My song is perfect. What do we need her for? She doesn’t even have an album out, she’s made no name for herself. She’s going to ruin Corroded Coffin.” Eddie continues pestering, despite Tom’s insistence against it.

“No, Eddie, see that’s where you’re wrong. You wrote a good song man, okay? A good song. But just a good song. She could make it great. You haven’t heard her sing like I have. She has real talent.”

Eddie scrunches up his face and pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “Oh a good song, huh? But you said the label liked it. Why change it?”

Tom sighs, taking a step towards Eddie. “The label didn’t dig the song… okay? They said it needs more, otherwise they’re gonna pass on it.”

“So you fuckin’ lied man, fuck-“ Eddie grits his teeth. “Fine, whatever, she’s gonna sing on the song with me. But that’s it.” Eddie grumbles, storming out of the small room.

•••

“He doesn’t get it, guys, he doesn’t fucking get it!” Eddie yells. “This is my song. My fucking baby. And this... bitch is gonna come in here and destroy it. I don’t need her singing on the song - I don’t need anyone to make my music ‘better’” he spits.

The thing is, things have always gone Eddie’s way since Corroded Coffin gained traction in the music world. Eddie writes the songs, Eddie dictates which songs go on the album, so on and so forth. This makes sense to Eddie, and if you ask him, he’s being completely fair to the rest of the guys in the band. ‘Of course I let them have a say in things. I don’t care what rumors you’ve heard - it’s a fair process around here.’ It’s only natural that he can’t handle the idea of someone else singing on his song. Eddie is always the one singing, save for Gareth and Jeff doing backing vocals.

Eddie thrives off of being liked. The way the fans hang onto every word he sings- it’s electric to him. He’s addicted to the way people adore him. And he’d never admit it to anybody… but he’s nervous you might just show him up, and then *poof* no one cares about him anymore.

“Come on, Eddie. Ease up a little! This could be fun, you never know.” Gareth says, following Eddie back and forth as he paces the recording studio.

“I give you like, 20 minutes before you’re in love with her… or bending her over a table.” Jeff interjects, screeching when Gareth throws a drumstick at him to shut him up.

Eddie can’t get a rebuttal in before the door swings open. Tom walks in trailed by a young woman. Quite possibly the most beautiful woman Eddie’s ever see- nope. Nope. Not going there. What was that?

“Guys. This is Y/N, as I’m sure you could guess. She’s here to record ‘Honeycomb’ with us today.” Tom smiles politely at the group, jolting Eddie from his thoughts.

“Y/N, hey. It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m Gareth, this is Jeff, Greg, and I’m sure you know Eddie - the star of the show.” Gareth goes around the room, pointing at all of the guys.

You meet Eddie’s gaze as Gareth talks, and your breath hitches in your throat. Of course you know who Eddie is- you’ve seen him on magazine covers and in interviews. You’ve always thought he was alluring, but he’s even more gorgeous in person. Long, curly hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Tattoos trailing up his arms and chains around his neck. His signature ripped black skinny jeans that hug him so well in all the right places… fuck. Focus. You are not here to sleep with Eddie Munson. You redirect your attention to Gareth as he finishes speaking.

The rest of the guys all greet you warmly - except Eddie, you notice - who gives you a tight-lipped smile and a quick nod.

You walk straight up to him, holding out your hand for him to shake. “It’s so nice to meet you Eddie. Thank you so much for letting me be on the song - seriously, it means the world.” You say, exaggerating sincerity a little.

Eddie reluctantly shakes your hand. “Yeah. Let’s get this over with.”

He walks away to set up a microphone before he can think too hard about the way his heart pounded as your hands touched.

•••

The recording session starts, and take one of the song has begun. You insisted on using the same mic as Eddie, who begrudgingly allowed you to stand beside him, shoulders brushing ever so slightly. The contact sends chills down his spine. Eddie sings the first lines confidently into the mic, not making eye contact with you. Tom, along with the rest of the band watch the two of you intently from the sound booth. Honestly, Eddie has to admit everything is going smoothly. That is, until the chorus starts. Eddie sings one lyric into the microphone… and you sing a different one.

“Woah, woah, okay, stop!” Eddie yells to Tom to cut the track, pulling the clunky headphones off of his head. “Those aren’t the lyrics, what are you doing?” He’s turned to face you, incredulous.

“Um I- I’m sorry, did he not get my version? Does he not know?” You say, avoiding eye contact with Eddie to level with Tom.

“Your version!? This is my song- you are here to sing on my song. Not to rewrite the damn song!” Eddie hisses, throwing his hands in the air.

“No, darling, I’m here to make your song better. And that’s exactly what I’ve done.” You narrow your eyes at him, a syrupy sweet smile on your face.

Eddie’s face is burning, his whole body is burning. You weren’t supposed to write new lyrics. This is not happening. And for the love of god stop staring at her lips, Eddie.

“Eddie, uh, let’s give her version a shot, yeah?” Tom says, framing it like a question, but Eddie knows he doesn’t really have a choice.

The track starts from the top again, and Eddie finds that his hands are trembling as he holds your songbook. He sings the lyrics as you have written them, and his stomach sinks as he does it. He hates that you’ve changed his perfect song. He hates that he was made to look like an idiot because Tom didn’t tell him you had rewritten anything. And most of all, he hates that he can hear how good your voices sound together. He hates that he thinks he’d like to hear the sound of your voice for the rest of his life, on the rest of his songs.

“Oooh, we could make a good thing bad,” the two of you sing out in unison, and the song ends.

Eddie stares at you and you stare at him, chest heaving and absolutely beaming. The rest of the band are looking at the two of you in awe from the sound booth. Eddie can’t bring himself to smile, can’t bring himself to let you know that he thinks you really might have made his song better. Can’t face you while his mind races with thoughts of grabbing your face and kissing you. Instead, he hands you your lyric book and hurries out of the studio.

You excuse yourself to the group amid their praises and follow him out the large wooden doors. You’re surprised to find the lobby empty, but then you hear noise coming from down the hall. Walking over to a small closet, you peer in and see Eddie in the dim light, leaning against the wall, hands covering his face and his head tipped back.

“Eddie, what was up with that?” You ask him gently, closing the closet door behind you for privacy. “I thought we sounded great.”

“You rewrote my fucking song!” He booms over you. “That wasn’t the plan. You were supposed to sing on it with me and that would be that.” He’s stepped towards you, leaving little room between the two of you in the already-cramped closet.

“It’s not my fault Tom didn’t tell you I changed some of the lyrics, okay? I didn’t expect you to be blindsided like that. But you could’ve been more mature about it!” You defend.

“Who the hell do you think you are? No- seriously, tell me. Corroded Coffin has worked so hard to make a name for ourselves. I have worked so hard. And you just waltz in here like you own the place? What the fuck is your problem?” Eddie’s words come out sharp, bitter, but there’s an emotion behind his eyes you can’t quite place. Fear? Maybe.

“Oh get your head out of your ass already, Eddie! I made your song better! We sounded fucking amazing together- the label might actually want it now!” You’re screaming back at him at this point, heat rising in your face as he steps impossibly closer to you. “And don’t even get me fucking started on the Corroded Coffin bullshit. Do you even give the other guys a say in what happens in this band? Cause you seem like a big cocky crybaby who always gets his way. I may not be rich and famous like you are but at least I’m not a fucking prick!” You’re seething, and you press your hands to his chest in an attempt to shove him backwards.

Eddie stops you, though, grabs you by the wrists. Firmly, but not hurting. His huge brown eyes haven’t stopped boring into yours. He thinks his heart might sprout wings and fly out of his chest. He thinks he might hate himself forever if he doesn’t get to have more of you.

“What- now you’re speechless? Don’t have anything to s-“ Eddie cuts you off, pressing his lips to yours like his life suddenly depends on it. Maybe it does.

You’re caught off guard, frozen in place for only a second until you kiss him back, pushing him up against the shelves behind him. His hands leave your wrists and hastily scour your body. You’d think he was a man starved the way he grips at your hips, lips basically devouring yours all the while. Eddie gasps as you lean down to his neck, sucking red and purple marks onto the skin that Jeff is definitely going to mock him for later. He can’t bring himself to care. He grabs your face in his hands to meet your lips once again, needing more.

“You wanna know something, Y/N?” Eddie says between kisses, moving down to nip at your neck. “I can’t fucking stand the way you came in here so confidently today-“ another kiss to your neck. “The way you came right up and sang into the same mic as me instead of using your own, like you just own the whole room-“ another kiss, and another “I can’t stand the fact that your lyrics are better than mine- that maybe you made 'Honeycomb' something I couldn’t make it,” he’s talking through gritted teeth, agitated and yet completely enamored with you. “I hate that the entire time I was watching you sing, I couldn’t stop thinking about your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock..”

Before you can respond, he’s unbuttoning your jeans, pushing you against the opposite wall of the closet, taking control.

“I think you’re absolutely insufferable and immature” you breathe out, pulling his hair out of its ponytail so you can run your fingers through it.

He lets out a breathy chuckle, but it’s arrogant, smug. “You can spit whatever insults you like, sweetheart, but you’re absolutely soaked right now.” He gives you a smile, tilting his head to the side as he does. His fingers had slipped inside the waistband of your pants, and are now circling the lace fabric of your panties.

You feel yourself clench around nothing as his fingers tease your core. You let out an involuntary moan, rutting your hips down against his touch. He gets the hint and shimmies your jeans down your legs, and you slip out of them after quickly taking your shoes off. You meet his gaze again as he tugs his jeans down slightly, pulling his cock free from the thin fabric of his boxers.

And - oh my god - he’s fucking huge. Thick and long with a dripping pink tip. You swallow, hard, and you swear you feel your mouth start to water. Suddenly you can’t figure out how you’ve survived this long without him, and you certainly won’t be able to after this.

“Get on your fucking knees, babydoll” he purrs, lips inches away from your ear.

You oblige, of course, settling yourself so that your pussy rests on the toe of his combat boot, aching for whatever friction you can get. You take his cock into your mouth without further instruction from the rockstar, and he inhales sharply above you.

“Fuck, baby, shit-“ Eddie groans, collecting your hair in one of his hands and tugging, his cock twitching slightly in your mouth.

“What, big shot, can’t handle it? Should I tell the press that Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin comes three seconds into a blowjob?” you tease him, but you can’t ignore the way your head spins at his praise.

“Shut up and fucking suck it, sweetheart- I can handle it.” He hisses.

You don't need further instruction. Your tongue works on his cock, licking a stripe up his length and then kitten-licking the tip. Eddie’s seeing stars as you engulf him entirely in your mouth once again. You go at it for a while before he feels you rutting yourself against his boot.

His laugh is devious, wicked. “So desperate for me huh, sweet thing? Gonna get yourself off while you suck my cock, baby?”

You want to retaliate, taunt him back, do anything to make yourself seem like more than a pathetic fucking whore for him, but you’re dripping through your panties and the friction is so, so delicious you can’t stop your movements. Warmth is beginning to pool in your stomach and you need this release. You take him as deep into your mouth as you can, his tip practically nudging the back of your throat, gagging around him. Eddie thinks he might die, seriously, this is it for him. ‘Rockstar Dies In Supply Closet With His Dick Out’ he can see the tabloid headlines now. He tugs your hair and holds your head still as he starts to fuck into your mouth, reveling in the moans and mewls you let out beneath him.

“Shit, sweetheart, you feel s’fucking good around my dick-" he grunts, throwing his head back as he picks up his pace. "Go ahead and touch yourself for me, sweet girl. I know you need more." He says roughly.

You happily let him throat-fuck you as you tug your panties down slightly, bringing a hand down to allow your fingers to rub harsh circles into your clit. You feel yourself getting closer, a coil tightening more more more as he fucks into the heat of your mouth. You can sense his movements getting erratic, and you glance up to look at his face. He's delirious, so fucked out, and you feel as if you could melt into a puddle right here at his feet as you watch him.

“I’m gonna fucking cum, sweetheart, shit- you want it in your mouth?” He asks you, brown eyes blown out wide as he awaits your response.

You nod, mouth too full of him to speak, and you squeeze his heavy balls in your free hand as he thrusts faster faster faster into your mouth. He lets out a strangled moan as his cock twitches, ropes of hot cum coating your tongue. You quicken your pace on your aching clit and it doesn't take long for the coil in your stomach to snap. You cum all over your fingers and Eddie's boot that still rests beneath you, as he finishes riding out his high above you. He watches you as you swallow his load and he silently swears to himself he’ll do whatever he can to have you like this more often.

“Fuck, baby, you soaked my shoes huh? You okay?” He asks you tenderly, grabbing your arms to pick you up off the floor and steady your shaking frame. You nod, collapsing against him, head pressed to his chest. The two of you stay like that for a while, listening to each others heavy breaths before Eddie finally breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry for being a dick about having you on the song, okay?” He says, his voice softer and far more unsure than you've ever heard it. “You made it better- I really fucking mean that.”

“I know I did.” you reply, shifting to meet his gaze, and he smiles at you. “A few more rounds of this," you gesture around the two of you, "and I think you’ll have made it up to me” you smirk at him.

“Alright, sweetheart, same place same time tomorrow?” Eddie teases, and you laugh. That’s a sound he thinks he could get used to.

•••

When the two of you walk back into the recording room, Eddie's neck littered with hickeys and mascara smudged around your eyes, no one says a damn word.

"'Honeycomb' take three anyone?" Eddie asks.

[boywriters-blog]

So…is it ok to request some Yandere dethklok x reader headcanons?

Dethklok/Reader hcs

of course it is!! thank you for the request!! very excited for my first metalocalypse request heheh o(^▽^)o + added charles for silly ^_^

warning: death (no major characters obviously)

Nathan:

-when he’s obsessed he is OBSESSED

-he will do anything you want him do, genuinely

-being Nathan’s partner is hard work, not just because he’s high maintenance, but because he’s the lead singer of dethklok, everyone in the world knows who he is

-if anyone hurts you? a klokiteer or himself will deal with it

-you will know when he kills someone for you , he tried to hide it but he’s not very good at it

-“what happened to ____?”

-“what-?- i don’t know who you’re talking about- i never met anyone with that name- hey- wanna go have like- sex or something??” he would desperately try to change the topic, he’s visibly nervous, a terrible liar

-you drop it but note the way he reacted

-next time it happens he tries to distract you by pampering you, would even go as far as to eat you out / give you head

-when you finally fully realize what’s up and see it happen for yourself, you aren’t freaked out, i mean, thousands of people die every time they preform a concert

-tbh you find it really sweet, especially since most people he’s killing are total dildos

-he stills prefers to not do it in front of you , but occasionally if they did something to really fuck you up he’ll try to make you feel better by letting you watch

-would definitely write a song about it, i mean it’s super brutal how could he not

Pickles:

-he probably doesn’t even know he’s doing it at first because he’s so shitfaced all the time

-he also doesn’t realize you KNOW and that you’ve known since the beginning, the first time he killed someone for you, he accidentally did it in front of your face

-he was too shitfaced to remember

-you didn’t say anything at first because you always liked him, you thought it was sweet in a brutal way, and the guy deserved it he was a creep

-you didn’t see the next few times, but he started acting a bit differently around you, a little more suspicious and like he’s hiding something

-he ends up confessing it to you in a drunken state, but he sobers up pretty quickly once he realizes what he said

-if you make him promise to not hurt anyone who didn’t absolutely deserve it, he will just be so grateful you’re not angry at him

-definitely more affectionate with you afterwards

-strengthens your relationship tbh

Toki:

-dude he would be so nervous the entire time about you finding out

-would never do it himself , always has a klokiteer do it

-wouldn’t tell you or hint at it

-he would only kill people that were pieces of shit dildos, he would send the rest to the dethklok prison

-he confesses everything out of guilt, he confesses the way he enjoyed beating the shit out of people who deserved it, especially after they did something to you or got too close to you

-you comfort him because he didn’t do anything inherently morally wrong, and he’s overjoyed and relieved

-he would probably hug you for a long time, like a cuddle, with a few kisses

-you make him promise to not do it again, not only for your sake, but for his too

-he never leaves your side after that

Skwisgaar:

-i’m honestly so 50/50 abt him

-i feel like he wouldn’t try to hide it, but it’s just hidden somehow

-he doesn’t act any different, he acts extremely casual, you don’t notice any difference in his behavior around you, maybe a little more touchy but you assumed it was just you growing closer

-definitely holds your lower back in an over protective kinda way

-would very casually mention it in conversation like “oh ja , ams killst thats guys”

-you would have to do a double take and like interrogate him , he would admit everything but only to you

-he doesn’t want the others to think he’s like super gay or anything for killing these people for you

-they do not care but he’s self conscious

-would move on like nothing happened and tbh so did you, it wasn’t bothersome so why worry?

-clingy cuddles from him later frl

William:

-he probably tells you to be honest

-he’s proud of it

-wants you to be proud of him too

-you sigh and ask him how many people he killed

-he shrugs, he genuinely lost count, but he looks up at you with these puppy dog eyes that you can’t resist

-you groan and roll your eyes

-“okay fine, whatever, just at least try to make sure they’re a complete dildo beforehand, okay??”

-“shhurrrre okay”

-he would he attached at your hip for the end of time

-very VERY touchy, like has to be touching you at all times, likes to show you off as his

Charles:

-you have no fucking idea what’s going on

-he makes them all look like accidents

-he’s a little more affectionate than normal after he does it, but excuses it with being tired

-went on for a while before you even had an IDEA of anything happening

-he will not tell you, you have to find out yourself

-once you do, you wait for a while to confront him, study him and his actions

-you start to recognize when he did something and that’s when you confront him

-he lowkey begs for you to stay, he would apologize for everything, and get down on one knee while apologizing

-you could never say no to that face so you stay of course

-pampers you with gifts and quality time

oh my god babes i’m so sorry for the couple days of nothing from me 💔

life is weird rn but i will get back to work on the requests immediately!

never be afraid to request!

much love,

Mooshi <3

[loverboy-havocboy]

Hello beloved! Could I please ask about:

exit wounds (during skye) - aliit au (*grabby hands for the pain??*🫣)

and/or if that's already been asked... I'm intrigued to know more about "one more push" 👀👀 ??? PWEaSE 🥹 tysm.

aaahh two!! tysm my dear 🥺💖 i think i'll do exit wounds here then reblog with the second since i tend to get wordy

exit wounds

this is the doc for expanding on comet's time with skye - specifically how it started and how his absence impacted boost and sinker. the title is a placebo song that's very comet/sinker when comet leaves them for skye. it's been really difficult to work on because i never want bad things to happen to them 🥺

what's in out of the ashes is very brief and i've also changed my mind about a key part - boost and sinker distrust skye from the very first day they meet him, which i no longer think serves the story. he's not some simple asshole, he's a master manipulator, and many abusers know how to charm not only their victims but also the people who would protect them - at least until they've got their claws into their victim.

i'm also changing the "reward" skye is holding over comet's head to get him to obey. currently it's the promise of being his collared sub, but it's going to be the promise of marriage and children - the things comet wanted with wooley, things that have always been incredibly important to him.

both of these things in the original diminish the relationship comet has with boost and sinker. they make it mean so much less than it does. he would never leave them to get a dom and if they said they didn't trust someone he would trust them.

comet/skye snippet:

“No, I'd love to move in with you!” Comet assures him quickly. “It’s just.. moving away from Boost and Sink - I don't know.”

“Well you didn't think you'd live with them forever,” Skye laughs - and he does it so easily, like it was so obvious they'd split up eventually, that Comet is suddenly too embarrassed to admit otherwise.

But, yeah.. he kind of did.

His embarrassment must show on his face, though, because Skye is still laughing. “Oh my god, you actually did, didn't you?”

Comet can feel his skin burning from the tips of his ears down to his neck. His defense comes weakly. “Yeah, a little, I guess. Please don't laugh at me, Skye.. They're my best friends. I just - I never really thought about it.”

boost/sinker snippet:

[context: i think sinker coped with losing comet by drinking heavily and he and boost fought about comet a lot - what they did, what they should've done, if they could've changed it. they've just had some such fight, but i haven't written that. also. boost's parents died in a car accident about 10 years ago with him in the car which is how he got his scars]

“I'm not talking about this with you,” Sinker slurs. He turns away, deciding to take a different way home. Let Boost stew in his shit mood on his own, he thinks.

What happens next happens so fast that Sinker can't really make sense of it.

There are several noises - the blaring of a horn, the squealing of tires, voices yelling - two of them - all of them too loud. Then the blinding lights and the hands yanking him backward so suddenly his vision spins.

“Sink- Sinker, I can't lose you, too!” Boost is shouting at him, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him hard. All he can do is freeze, eyes wide. “For fuck’s sake, I can't lose my whole fucking family! What is wrong with you?”

The anguish in Boost's voice, the fear in his eyes, it chills Sinker to the bone. Boost is.. Boost is angry with him. Really, really angry.

Both of them just stare at each other for a long moment before Boost’s gaze drops to his hands where they still grip Sinker hard enough to bruise. His eyes widen and he lets go like he's been burned.

“Sink..” he whispers, shaking his head subtly in disbelief. He swallows hard, looks down at his hands, then back up to Sinker's face with tears in his eyes. “I didn't- I'm so sorry. Did I-”

“I th- I think..” Sinker blinks a few times. “I think I need to throw up.”

“Yeah,” Boost agrees quietly, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. “Yeah, I think you do.”

well 🥺👉👈 you wanted the pain 🥺 now take this. to feel better 🫂☕

[ranposgirlboss]

~HCS FROM MY BOOK!!-PART ONE~

THIS IS MULTIFANDOM!! also most of these are either slander or made for being a silly joke <333 so please don't take this seriously

fandoms: genshin impact, bungou stray dogs, and honkai impact

genre: fluff, slander, and sillies (it progressively gets less and less serious)

enjoy my shitty hcs from like a year ago <333 (they are actually older lol) ALSO ARE EXTREMELY SHORT SINCE IM LITERALLY JUST TAKING WHAT I WROTE WITHOUT CHANGING IT AND PUTTING IT OVER ON HERE LMAOASBHJAS (there's only so much space on paper </3)

chara list!!: albedo, kazuha, xiao, diluc, heizou, fu hua (sentience), scaramouche, aponia, dazai, ranpo, poe, ANDDD nikolai!!

FIRST TIME HOLDING HANDS!!

ALBEDO

-"its all for an experiment" he says

-lil bitch ok sure

-probably gonna study what this feeling is when he holds your hand and "why he feels so warm on the inside"

-acts like he doesnt care that much but bros probably gonna draw yall holding hands like a 13 year old drawing in her diary 💀

KAZUHA

-i love him but

-probably would make a poem about how your hand feels 😭

-he would be so cute tho ngl

-i mean just as always but also like

-please hold his hand he just loves you so much and along with words of affirmation physical contact seems to be his thing

-UGH MARRY ME

XIAO

-"wow y/n when you hold my hand the voices cease their calls for me to go to taco bell, thank you y/n."

-TAKE ME HIGHH AND ILL SINGGGG YOU MAKE EVERYTHING OKAY OHKAY OHKAY OHKAY (if you know that song here's your free kiss <33)

-and then you get married the end

-W H Y D I D I W R I T E T H I S B Y E -

DILUC

-could give less of a shit

-but for the sake of being a gentleman he says thank you and then continues bat manning sillily.

HEIZOU

-"y/n holding hands is cool but i think we should start an investigation of how fast we could make it to my place ;)"

-KILL YOURSELF. (please dont lead the way my silly detective <33)

-this gif makes me want to impulsively eat vanilla cake.

FU HUA

-YAAAATTAAAAA

-*holds hand* look at the beautiful sight ahead of us Y/N! no i did not make that fire-"

-fu hua arsonist era

APONIA

-MOMMY bjnEBHEKHBWJSK

-"y/n holding hands is great but why don't we open our arms and eyes to god"

DAZAI

-I APOLOGIZE TO ALL MY BSD READERS WHO HAVE TO SCROLL THIS FAR JUST TO GET THIS SILLy

-"i can always hold more then your hand~"

-a flirty bitch, but yall got chuuya knocking on your door asking you to "control your dog"

-ironic how chuuya is the one who says that

RANPO

-UGH I LOVE MY SKRUNKLE DOODLE PUSH POP SILLY SKRUNKLY CRUNKLY MUMPLY SILLY (yes i wrote that WORD. FOR. WORD.)

-will hold your hand for payments

-affection?? candy??? candys nuts fit in your mouth because they sure are about to <33 (i want to erase what i write sometimes)

-gets so happy omg

-not only does he have candy, you, but NOW he gets to hold your hand too>!1/!?!?

-wow he might as well steal from a candy store at this point

-might as well

-he swears it was an accident

POE

-poe held your hand with such sweetness, care, tenderness, love, and affection

-karl pulls up in his Mazarati, ready to throw hands once and for all, how DARE someone get more attention then karl

-poe has some explaining to do

-(i wonder how high i was when i wrote these)

-(i think i was 5'5)

NIKOLAI ( I FUCKING LOVE THIS ONE)

-so you go to hold his hand in y/n fashion

-suddenly you almost get hit by a bus

-"shit my bad wrong item"

-you stare in utter confusion at the bus as it suddenly vanishes like a fucking mob from minecraft or some shit

-nikolai god arc confirmed real

-so anyways you suddenly feel warmth on your hand on you see another fucking hand gripping yours but its literally just the hand detached from the body

-you are extremely scared and concerned why there's another hand gripping yours out of nowhere but with nikolai anything is possible so you just accept it and hold his hand back

-he giggles and nikolais away with the hand still holding yours

-(I ASKED HOW HIGH I WAS WHEN I WROTE THE LAST ONE BUT WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING HERE.)

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

the voices

ALOS THNAK YOU FOR READING THIS PIECE OF SHIT IM SORRY. SHE WAS ME FROM A YEAR AGO I DONT KNOW HER 😭

alos my reqs are always open

I ALSO APOLOGIZE FOR THE TAGS

[maladaptive-day-dreams]

Think of Me

Steve x gn!reader, angst, 1k words Inspired by the song Think of Me by Madi Diaz (song lyrics are bolded in the fic!)

CW: cheating (Stancy), mention of s3x/infidelity, yelling and fighting, angry reader, despondent but also undisturbed Steve (he’s accepted what he’s done and doesn’t care at this point)

Author's Note: omg wow I'm posting again whaaaaat. First person bc I didn't feel like going and changing it to you/yours, soz. I got a lil sad at this as a relatively new Stevie gal, but pls enjoy (also imagine this as the angsty kind of sad boi to follow...but don't feel too bad for him bc he cheated).

I know that something is wrong. Steve has been off for the last few weeks but I don’t know why and he hasn’t said anything. He’s been distant, less affectionate, only brief kisses on my cheek when he’s leaving versus the usual heady lip-locking. I can’t remember the last time he initiated sex, but I can remember the last time I heard him jacking off in the bathroom even though I told him I was up for it. Or the last time I heard him leave the house and come back three hours later smelling clean, but sweet.

It has me anxious. Like all of my atoms are under attack. But I don't wanna say nothing so I don't react.

I’ve been silent, haven’t brought it up or made it known that I felt him pulling away. No, I don't even notice him.

He’s in the kitchen and I’m in the bath.

“Yeah, I can't play normal and you can't pretend,” I say through the open doorway. I know he can hear me. I see his back tense as he pauses washing the dinner dishes.

“What are you talking about?” he scoffs.

“I can’t pretend that I don't know where you go, anymore.”

He turns, his face marred with a question but his eyes know what I’m saying. He wipes his hands with a dish towel before closing the distance between us and leaning against the bathroom door. I lean on my arms atop the side of the bathtub.

“Am I not enough?” I ask. Before he can interrupt I keep going. “Is it because of what happened last spring? With Vecna?”

He tenses. His eyes focused on the tile floor in front of him.

I continue.

“I know where you go,” I laugh, throwing my hands up and sinking back into the lukewarm bathwater. “I know where you go. Do you think I don’t notice? How you leave in the middle of the night? How you only to come back to bed hours later with damp hair and smelling like Mike?”

He looks at me at that.

“Are you that daft? I buy your body wash. It’s always the citrus one because you can’t stand any other scents, they give you headaches. But when you come back to bed you smell like Irish Spring. I know that’s what Mike uses because that’s what his mom buys him when she comes through my line at the grocery store.”

“You’re crazy. I go to the park and run and then sneak into the pool showers and that’s what people leave there. You know I have nightmares and that running helps.” He starts to turn around, back towards the kitchen

“Then how do you explain your clothes smelling like her room.”

He hesitates. And I stand up in the bath.

“I’ve been in her room before, I know her perfume. For fucks sake we made out for the first time on her bed two years ago at her Halloween party, of course I know what that room smells like. We made one of my favorite memories there that night.”

He doesn’t say anything. I dry myself off and put on my pajamas that were sitting on the toilet lid.

“I hope you fuck her with your eyes closed. And think of me.”

“Y/N,” he whispers, hand reaching for mine when I pass him as I leave the bathroom.

“No. I hope you love her with the lights low and think of me. Think of me waiting here staring at the ceiling, checking the clock for when you come home.”

“Please. You know we have history, you know that.”

I turn and face him. His eyes are watery, red, sad. “Yeah, yeah I do. But I thought you loved me? I thought you were over her? I thought you were just friends now?”

“We’re bonded,” he says grabbing my arms. “With everything we’ve been through, there’s no way I can live without Nancy in my life.”

I stare at him, waiting for him to continue his attempt at redemption.

“We never expected it to happen. We didn’t want to fall back into it but it just— We just did. It was familiar, it was comfortable, it was comfort for us.”

“Being with me wasn’t comfort enough? You had to go back to her?”

Angry tears dampened my cheeks. I ripped my arms from his grasp to wipe them away.

“I hope you fuck her with your eyes closed," I repeat. "I hope looking at her makes guilt burrow into your stomach. Put the shame off with some Benzos, swallow the feeling while you walk home. And think of me. Always.”

Steve’s staring at the floor again. Refusing to look at me.

“You aren’t even denying it anymore. All of the color has drained from your face.”

Nothing. No apology.

“I’m sorry and I love you is noise that you make now. Nothing more, they don’t sound like they used to. Like any feeling you had behind them has disappeared."

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Y’know at first, no, I didn't even notice you stayin' out—Stayin’ out all night. I didn’t think you’d be in her bed, running your fingers down her thighs. Lickin’ your lips in the low light. No, I didn't even notice you come home and kiss me with her chapstick on your lips. I didn’t think you’d do that to me. To us.”

“I-”

“We talked about marriage, Steve!” I yelled, storming into our shared bedroom. He doesn’t follow. “Kids! A life outside of this hellhole!”

I’m throwing as many clothes and things as I can into my duffle bag.

“But now?” I ask, slinging the bag over my shoulder and shoving my feet into my sneakers.

I walk back to the kitchen. He looks defeated. He’s not even trying to save this, to fix this.

“Fuck you, Steve.” I spit, anger mixing with heartbreak. “I can’t-I hope you fuck her with your eyes closed and think of me.”

It’s all I can think of now. I have no words, no defenses, no pleas. Just: “I hope you love her with the lights low and think of me. I hope you fuck her with your eyes closed, put the shame off with some Benzos, swallow the feeling while you walk home and think of me always. Think of me, think of me always.”

I slam the door behind me as I leave and head for anywhere but here.

[a-ranting-blogorsomething]

a ff idea that i got at 3 AM

okay if i write it okay i may turn it into a proper book but so far just a glimpse,

a yoongi ff, he is a warrior and female lead is the youngest princess, king and queen died and crown prince is the one and only kim seokjin who is famous af because he is changing the monarch with new innovative ways which seems completely futuristic and old people set in their ways hate him and tries to manipulate him but his right hand man kim namjoon is just as savage and breaths fire, so an UNSTOPPABLE TEAM. anyways onto the story - part 1

.

playlist song - So high school, Alchemy - taylor swift.

.

I woke up with the sound of jimin practically screaming and going back and forth like all the worries of the world are on his shoulders.

"your highness please wake up we have tons of things to do!!!! we are going to be LATE!"

"oh my god!! for fucks sake relax, im up, and we are only going to meet jinnie for breakfast."

"He is the king, Im nervous..."

"Take deep breaths okay?"

"okay and dont curse your highness."

"i won't in front of other people as long as you stop calling me that i swear to god chim we have been together since babies, call me Lizzie."

"alright, just go get ready the maids have kept everything, your bath is ready and -"

"I got this chim go, you do what you want."

ughhh he really needs to chill, jimin, tae ad I have known each other since we were kids and they are my personal helpers, but more than that we are best friends, i can share absolutely anything with them well with tae, jimin is more like a mother, he always worries 24/7 and how everything could go wrong and how i should make good choices.

As i got ready and opened my door and their they were, My best friends, as I sling my arms on their shoulders, tae laughed while chim glared. as to silently saying thats not what royals do.

I can practically hear his voice in my head.

And we link arms and went to the royal dinning hall for breakfast. and we arrived to see a pretty entertaining site,

we see Kim Seokjin, the future king of this empire teaching the royal chefs how to cook that particular food to perfection as he calls, the jin way, while they are scared to death.

"Yes now you flip this when its that color, you dont add the salt before, it gets all crazy and-"

"Oh hey !! lizzie! tae and chim how are you ? Ah havn't seen you in ages with all the work that I'm surrounded by, I have got tons of gossip I need to tell you !"

we sat down and had the most amazing breakfast, obviously because it was supervised by my brother. while jin told us everyhting that happened to that old bastard who tried to manipulate him into doing something horrible and how he exposed so much of secrets that his wife left him with his kids and with all the estate and money which jin helped her getting and now he is alone with nothing. Classic.

chim is just there sitting absolutely horrified and tae and I are so freaking proud. after breakfast we met joon for tea until they both went to their office because they are planning something big, I am excited they are so amazing, ever since jinnie went to become the crown prince and handling everything he has done so much and his morals remain the same, helping everyone in need without being apologetic and never backing down, he deserves to be the king of this empire and i just know he is so loved by all the people.

and now its the time for the best part of day,

watching warriors practice,

tae, chim and I have this time in our day where from this window in the library you get the perfect view of the field where the royal warriors train and do practise fights, My personal favourite, general min yoongi, he trains the warriors, the first in line in every war, the most strangest and bravest warrior, every war he led, we never lost, also one of the best friends of my brother.

from 1 to 3 they fight and practice in the sun sometimes without shirts, where we three just die.

"This is the best time of the day, the sun is hitting perfectly on my future husband's chest" sighs tae.

"I know right"

"what which one was yours again tae?" asked chim

"The fiercest and new warrior jeon."

"Oh yea he has got the best upper body." i couldnt help but exclaim.

"ya! you got yours dont look at MINE!"

"What ? Im just appreciating beauty and dont worry I only got love for yoongi"

"both of you are wrong the crown prince have the best shoulders." whispered chim. but we heard and couldnt help but stare at him in bewilderment.

"W-What? I - I'm just saying...."

we spend the whole afternoon watching from the window and went down to "only drink tea" while sitting just beside where they were taking a break from the hard practice.

"oh my god oh my god oh my god!!!!!!! did THE jeon jungkook just looked at me and SMILED !!" tae exclaimed

"oh my god i think i saw that too!!!! he totally likes you tae!!"

i said while we hugged each other in our delusions.

"you guys support each others delusions way to much its not healthy."

"thats what friend ship is chim ."

"yea we should support yours too, jin thinks your are cute too!"

"YA WHEN TF DID I SAID THAT !!!"

chim screamed a little too loud as the warriors turned to look at us for real this time, while he sank in his seat with red cheeks in embaressment. while tae and I were trying to stifle our laughs.

after sometime we were just about to go inside when general jeon came out of nowhwere, and greeted us and asked me if he could take to tae, I agreed instantly as tae was uncharacteristically quiet with complete red face, they talked and chim and I tried to listen what was going on and I heard a clearing of a throat.

"Your highness"

"shut up chim I'm trying to listen !!"

i felt a tap on my shoulder and saw chim looking at me and I looked behind him and saw general yoongi LOOKING AT ME!! he called me !!

"Oh oh . um... .. general min."

"i dont think its nice to listen like this, others private conversations , your highness."

"oh no its fine tae is my friend."

"ah your highness i remembered something i need to go" jimin bowed an practically ran away.

"nice evening right ? general min"

"Yea its pretty nice we had a great practice"

"yea i saw......I -I mean i barely noticed but like you know I um I was coming down and i saw a glimpse of you know the swords and yea.."

"oh yea ohkay." said yoongi okay i might be delusional but i think he is shy,

sjbifbvwqyficnyugqwvqkwghf chjsc bkjsubveiyrfbvwjkfblkbfwebuvidsucbsdh vblsbvoleblejhfbvlejbljewnvwyu efe fefue gfuyagfoui

ITS SO FUCKIng cute IMMA DIE!!!

While we had an awkward af good bye i went and reunited with chim as we wait for tae in my room so we could ask him what was all of that.

.

.

[caralara]

"and also I have a lot of complicated and sad feelings about harry I need to process!" Can you expand on this? (If it's not personal of course)

oooooof anon I don’t even know where to start

Maybe with the fact I’m severely sleep deprived after the week of wembley? And that I will probably change my mind tomorrow after a good nights sleep again? Or that I’m super sad and a little embarrassed about having these feelings and thoughts in the first place?

At almost every harry show I’ve had an existential crisis at some point during the concert, of “what am I doing here? Why am I like this? Why do I spend so much money and time and energy and attention on this? Why don’t I have more of a ‘real life’? Why am I such a loser? Why do I feel like I missed my chances and became a little-below-average-adult instead of the special unique star my mum always said I would be? Why do I know all these thoughts are there bc I’m depressed and a little too self aware and hanging on by a thread, it feels like, desperately trying to find the next thing to look forward to in order to not notice how little I feel overall anymore and how little I care at all about keeping on living?” (Wow that got depressing sorry)

But this does kind of take me out of the experience for a second. And then when I see harry. i see him and his face up close. And I’ve always prided myself on the fact I’m extremely good at reading people, (let’s forget for a second I could always be wrong obv for the sake of this explanation), and what I see when I look at harry is a completely crafted stage persona (fair enough) but like - it didn’t always feel like this last year? Idk, maybe it’s the combination of this being a stadium tour, all the drama that has happened since last tour, then the having to camp for days to be able to see him close-ish, being surrounded by the absolute nastiest bullies with TPWK tattoos you can imagine (literally half of them are bullies I’m not joking), the entire feather boa cowboy hats “fuck me fuck me fuck me” thing solo harries have going on, harry doing gender reveals with such glee (???? Like shouldn’t we like stop doing that? I get you love babies harry but, shouldn’t especially harry know gender conformity reinforcement isn’t like, it?), reacting to all these yuck and nasty signs, re-encouraging the environment-catastrophes that are feather boas and single use cowboy hats ?? So I see him several times performing and he’s got all these amazing songs that mean so so so much to me and I see him going through the motions (fair enough) and not really feel most of the songs, and all of that just makes it look so - inauthentic? Idk. It’s stupid but it makes me feel like he’s a sellout, and that’s just not fair for me to say or think, and I know that, but I can’t help it. And then today he hangs with Shelli Azoff who’s been to court bc she’s abusing her sevice staff??? And it does make me wonder am I just deluding myself? How much is true and how much isn’t of what we make him out to be? Genuinely, him bathing in and demanding for more of the literal worship of his actual person gave me the Ick so bad yesterday. And then again he sings sweet creature and kisses his cross necklace right after. And then again It’s probably (as it always has) much more to do with my ego than anything else, and being upset he didn’t even acknowledge me for a second while literally standing in front of him with my big ass birthday sign. So just me being a sad little kid who’s feelings got hurt bc I didn’t get the attention for my birthday from the boy I like the way I had way too high expectations of.

All these thoughts are jumbled, and I’m crying and I’m tired but you asked so you shall receive.

Im just tired of having to mentally defend harry when he’s clearly wanting it exactly the way it is - saying he’s never been happier over and over on stage. So. Do with that what you will.

[harmontown-quotes]

What’s the point of stories?

Everybody realizing that life is what it is — it’s just the most basic thing in the world. When you wake up in the morning there seems to be so much wrong, and stories are the things that we tell each other to let us know that all these things that you feel about how fucked up everything is, that is how it is, so that it resonates. Providing language for the things that are bouncing around in your head, that’s what art is. If you look at a painting in the Louvre and you start to burst into tears it’s because somebody put something on a canvas that you thought could only ever exist in your brain -or a brain- and you suddenly burst into tears cause you’ve been connected with.

For me story is…I’m tapping in the rhythm of life and death with you so that you understand that when you woke up this morning and you felt bipolar, you felt like

‘Why am I in a good mood but I’m in a bad mood?

Why -if I was in a good mood- did I listen to a sad song?

Why is my mom’s death a thing that’s fucking up my job right now?

Why do I hate the people I love? Why do I love the people I hate?

Why am I depressed?

Why can’t I get anything done?

Why am I different?

Why am I scared?’

Everyone’s walking around in their Pizza Hut uniforms and they’re up and down the sidewalk and they all seem to have their shit together. I turn on the tv and everyone’s having Certz encounters and trying on high heeled shoes and everyone seems to knows what’s going on, Ross and Rachel know what’s going on.

Every once in a while you drive by and a couple cars hit each other and there’s broken glass everywhere but you’re not supposed to look and everyone that does look is a bad person so you keep going. This conveyor belt, this concrete jungle, it puts a pressure on you and you feel like -because you have this turmoil in your brain- you’re like ‘I’m gonna fucking snap! I’m the only one walking around with this secret that we’re all fucked up, that everything is going to hell.’ And stories let you know, no, Ulysses had that happen to him, he felt that way, he went to this place — it’s a way of articulating that inarticulable fact that just when things feel their worst, that is actually the thing that is actually giving you the most strength and all that kind of crap.

For me, community stories are always about people vs the system and it’s always about reminding you that no matter how fucked up you feel, you’re supposed to be the way you are, you’re not supposed to actually grow and change — before we ever get to that point, first and foremost the most subversive, most heroic act you can do is just be proud of yourself the way you got out of bed that morning. And people go around the circle of those stories experimenting with the idea that maybe they can improve themselves for the sake of improving their life or the system or something…and they come back around to the conclusion that they should’ve just come clean and been honest about the fact that they felt like a piece of shit.

That’s what stories are, to answer your question. — Dan

Harmontown 77: Carpool Diem

[spectaculardistractions]

From Salvador Dalí New York [April 1939] WRITE TO ME, for God’s sake, don SIMÓN! Señor don Simón, life is fleeting… What greater pleasure can there be than to tell one’s dying FATHER he’s an arsehole. QUEVEDO (Spanish classic) My dear little son, Delighted with the songs you sang in your letter, I shall reply in an orderly fashion. First, no divorce from Gala; on the contrary, our mutual understanding is absolute, and we’ve never been as happy together as we are together now, but as I’ve just spent four months at Chanel’s (with Gala) in Monte Carlo, the inevitable potins mondains rituals have arisen. You know I don’t believe in World War. We may well be experiencing some moments of objective danger, but I’m convinced that in under two months we’ll see an abrupt change (already arranged and decided). France and Italy will sort themselves out, and once the Axis is disbanded, Stalin will agree to Hitler consuming the juicy roast rib of the UKRAINE. At that point, Japanese imperialism will automatically feel threatened (Russia-Germany), and conflict will break out in the United States. I have to go and spend two weeks in Monte Carlo working on my spectacle, it will be at the Paris opera in June then, immediately afterwards, in London, so says the sacramental bread of Tristan. Oliwood has always interested me in theory, but as my economic situation improves by the day and I don’t need to go, I’m investing all my prowess in waiting and rejecting all offers until the day (which will inevitably arrive due to the acceleration of my prestige and popularity) when they make me DICTATOR. So many dollars to make whatever fucking film I want in however many days I want is the only contract I shall even consider, and this would be impossible were I to accept anything provisionally. You see the rub now? Your new approach seems far more realistic than your old Marxist idealism. As a piece of friendly advice from Dalí of Toledo, disinfect yourself of every Marxist thought because Marxism, philosophically and from every other perspective, is the most moronic theory of our civilization. It is all wrong, and Marx himself was probably a paragon of abstract stupidity. It would be terrible if you stopped being a political Marxist and carried on thinking like a Marxist in all other ways, because Marxism blinds you to the phenomena of our age. A really wonderful young science: ‘morphology’, the meeting of morphology with psychoanalysis, even older, even more beautiful, with one of the most melancholic smiles the world has ever seen! Good day to you, write to me, and if you do come to New York we shall meet up at once. Love, Dalí St Moritz on the Park 50 Central Park South PS The end of the Negrins and the Pasionarias has turned my stomach a bit. Couldn’t they have got themselves killed? Or made peace two months before the fall of Tarragona? The apotheosis of mediocrity. Never to be forgiven! Another thing, my individualism is now exacerbated, and I work with furious intensity on whatever comes into my tête; so, it would be impossible for me to work with anyone else. Gala is the only person I listen to, for she has mediunique gifts, objective CHANCE, and the paranoid interpretation of fortuitous events needed to follow the thread of my frenetical-critical activities. A good day indeed, one incredible thing after the other is happening here. The reds put my sister in prison in Barcelona for three weeks (!) and martyred her, she’s gone mad, she’s in Cadaqués, they have to force feed her and she shits the bed. Imagine my father’s tragedy; they’ve stolen everything from him and he’s living in a boarding house in Figueres. I am sending him dollars, of course; he’s turned into a fanatical admirer of Franco, sees him as a demi-god, mentions our glorious leader, on every line of his delirious letters (they saved all my things from the Cadaqués house). The revolutionary experiment has been such a disaster that everyone prefers FRANCO. It’s incredible: life-long Catalan loyalists, federal republicans, die-hard anti-clerical activists write to me over the moon with the new regime! At least they can eat, sleep and not worry about being robbed or murdered; it has to be said the left made a real mess of it.

Jo Evans & Breixo Viejo, Luis Buñuel: A Life in Letters

[proheromidoriyashouto]

Lambert was so excited to be a big brother. For all that they call Eskel the Dragon of Kaer Morhen, and Geralt the White Wolf, those are titles earned and accurate. But they don't call Lambert what he is... the Last Wolf of Kaer Morhen.

With no more mages around and the majority of their school dead, the Wolves of Kaer Morhen are functionally extinct. The remaining Wolves do not call for the Law of Surprise because there is no future for them and such children. Training un-mutated humans to try and walk the Path would just be a disaster, and it would take all the remaining Wolves retiring from the Path long enough to raise new pups in the first place which would have dire consequences in the meantime.

So when Geralt brought a pup home, Lambert felt those long buried desires to nurture come back to life. He finally was going to have someone to look up to him, to teach alchemy and monster biology to, to call him their big brother.

And then the she-pup can't eat meat. The one food a starving Witcher can rely upon when the coin is low and crops are failing. Lambert still gifts her the hunting knife he'd picked from his favorites, but wonders how she'll wear it on her pyre when the time comes rather than how he'll teach her to use it.

The Path is hard. Magic or not, Geralt's pup is small and skinny when she arrives and shows no signs of changing by winter's end. The bard prepares her meals with excessive care and the witch waves her hand over it like she expects the rest of them to poison her.

They wouldn't do that to Geralt. He'd be able to smell the poison, and despite assurances of a painless end, and would become haunted by the idea that she suffered unduly.

Lambert would never hurt a pup for the sake of cruelty--he's not Varin, for fuck's sake. But how long is she going to survive on her lonesome, unable to hunt for her food? Human or not, they'll know she's a Wolf pup and she'll be ostracized from their villages and market stalls no matter how flattering the bard's songs.

Are they supposed to raise her to adulthood in the keep just to set her out to die the moment things get hard? What kind of life is that?

So though it is going to be short-lived, Lambert makes the most of being a mentor and role model. He teaches her how to brew human-safe potions in the afternoons and let's her make a complete mess of his lab. He tutors her in math and alchemical conversions when she struggles in magic lessons.

He takes her to the old watch tower on the lake and shows her how to sketch worth a damn and let's her see his paintings of Voltehre and Aiden. He teaches her how to sail on his boat and let's her "ambush" tackle him into the water when she gets bored. He teaches her how to take apart a carcass for ingredients and tradable materials. It feels like it's not enough.

Lambert has nightmares of their pup wasting away on the Path enough to discuss it with Coen. Fear is irrational and Lambert has no use for it. Coen is steady and reasonable and not a Wolf so he won't necessarily go running his mouth to Geralt about it either.

Coen and Lambert have an understanding. They're both the last of their schools. No more mutant striplings are going to follow them into that violent, Chaotic dark. So when he talks about the inevitable end of their kind, Coen understands in a way the others don't. But that was when it was going to come down to the two of them.

Now, there is a pup who represents a future that is doomed to fail and her death is surely not going to be a result of a hunt gone wrong or a miscast spell. Coen suggests Axii and a swift knife to the lung. Quick, and painless (for her).

No witcher dies in their bed, but their pups always have. Perhaps this was always her fate, perhaps not. But they can agree that letting her go out into the great cruel world without the ability to eat meat is as cruel as letting her starve in a cell in the dungeons.

Coen's got the aptitude for Axii of a Griffin and Lambert has no shortage of long, slim blades. It'll destroy them, but she won't hurt. She won't waste away on her bedroll with a stomach full of roughage and no meat on her bones, no fat on her limbs and belly.

It's a mercy, it's a mercy--

Eskel smacks them both upside the head with a log for the kitchen fire and tells them that she'll be fine. She can eat poultry and fish.

Lambert's anger at being struck is gone as quickly as it came. Birds!

Coen mirrors his hopeful expression. Fish!

There's birds outside! There's fish in the lake!

They're off like a bolt from a crossbow and return with first creatures they managed to grab and shove it under Ciri's nose.

She irks at the raw fish wiggling in Coen's hands where he's practically ripping it apart in his fingers to offer her pieces.

Lambert has feathers and blood on his face and neck and drops the head and wings and feet and feathers that probably belonged to a bird minutes ago on the table.

Ciri points out she can't eat raw meat, which is just insulting--they know she's not a mutant. But Lambert is not capable of sheepishness and says he got too excited and he stress ate it on the way back. So he runs out again, promising to save her the good parts of whatever poor flapping bastard he can catch next.

Lambert is a Wolf of Kaer Morhen. No longer the Last. And there is a pup to feed.

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headcannon that Witchers are obligate carnivores and it means they can't just drink normal tea they have to brew that shit with bones in it or something or else it upsets their sensitive tummies.

like whenever Jaskier is brewing tea in camp and turns away for a second Geralt tosses in little bones he won't notice until its time to drink up and little pieces of white bone just plink into his cup. trying to get answers out of Geralt for something like this is a fool's errand so Jaskier just has to figure out why this is happening over time.

made all the more frustrating by Geralt getting miffed about Jaskier not eating the little bones and calling him wasteful and taking them for himself to eat. "the crunchy bits are the best part of tea."

but Geralt will not just call it soup. will not just ask for bone broth with herbs in it. it's "tea" and special "Witcher tea" when Jaskier won't let it go. and people think Jaskier is the dumb and pretty one of their pair.

but the other Witchers all do it to some degree, and if Jaskier wants a hot drink experience that doesn't taste wildy off and like shit he has to start just making broth or soups. crushed rosemary and garlic and a hefty helping of salt along with a big marrowy bone at least.

if he wants his own tea he has to brew it after Geralt is asleep or meditating or off on a hunt becaus he ALWAYS sneaks little bones or chunks of meat into it even when its only for Jaskier. he complains enough about it that Geralt buys a little tea pot Just For Jaskier that he promises not to mess with (but still does because surely the bard will die without animal fat and protein in every cup. Jaskier has to burst into tears for Geralt to stop in truth).

Geralt is delighted that tea is good now--he had no idea humans knew how to make a good Witcher tea! ah the bard has been holding out on him the strange little herbivore. glad he finally saw sense.

now if Jaskier would believe Geralt when he says he can't taste sweet things and stop trying to feed him pastry and wasting their hard earned coin on things that aren't even real. like sugar.

Ciri gets bit by a tick when she's on the run from Nilfgaard the first time and becomes deathly allergic to meat and it is SO upsetting to the Witchers. why even live.

[damnineedabreak]

Junior

When Junior was walking down the street he saw a little dog crying. I think that's what made him go into the deep blues that followed that day.

It was always a trigger, it was always a thing that seemed insignificant what made him go in to a downward spiral.

"What the fuck." He said to himself. And I understand what he means, and I think you do too. Sudden wave of sadness in the middle of breakfast with mom.

He spent the rest of the day going numb until he finally got to be home by himself, played Mac Miller's top sad existencial songs and laid down in bed crying nonstop for about an hour.

We think that he has a new problem now. Weed is making him apathetic and isolated. He says he's just chilling, but we can totally tell he is trapped.

"Why is living so complicated for me?" I heard Junior saying.

Bitch is he for real? The thing that bothers me the most about Junior is his fucking self-pity. For Christ sake.

Maybe I should be nicer, after all, we've read enough self help books to know that I should treat Junior with compassion. Because, after all, the guy's still a scared little boy trying his best to fit in adulthood. But sometimes I see him and I wonder, is he fucked? I've seen him trying so many things to improve, "get better", evolve, transcend, be in peace. Nothing seems to work for him, so I wonder, is he really so fucked up in the head that nothing brings a little sooth for his soul.

I asked him once "What's hurting dude?" but I don't think he trusts me enough to tell me. He sends me songs though. He can't speak about his feelings through words but I've known him for so long that I can read him by listening to what he's listening too.

I wonder why he's so fucked up. I know he had a not so good childhood and teenage years but he seems so different. It's like everything he is, he is halfway. Or better said, I think he is so many things that he can't be one alone, so I can't figure him out. I guess that's why he's such a lonely person.

I told him his heavy weed use was making him a weirdo. He replied with a smile. Fucking weirdo.

I don't think. he cares enough to change it. After all, he has a point: a) he thinks that if he leaves weed he can go on a bender on heavy drugs and ruin his life (which is totally possible for a guy like him), or b) It does manage his hyperactivity, hyper vigilance, chronic fucking stress over everything and don't allow yourself to rest vibe.

He knows weed made him a bitter loner but he seems so comfortable there. He found some sort of new dopamine releaser in introspection. For some time it made him feel great until he realized he couldn't live in his head, once again. Going back to people, going back to society, meeting new people, trying new things were now a burden. All he wanted to do was to go home and smoke by himself, with some really good music. I love his music taste it's so deep and emotional and rare.

"Fuck everyone", he say's about 40 times each day. He really hates people, I even heard him say once that he thought Hitler did what any rational person would do, get rid of the garbage, except that hitler chose the wrong target. He said target should've been stupid people.

"The fuck is wrong with you man? What you mean Hitler was right?" I told him while hitting the joint at his place. "I don't get why you're so angry at the world, you are rich." He just laughed and lit another joint. Fucking guy is evasive as fuck. He is one of the smartest people I know but he can't get past the first wall of feeling. I don't think he even knows what it feels to just feel, like naturally, not thinking about a feeling but actually feeling. No wonder he's so angry at the world.

I think he's stuck somewhere inside his mind, I just don't know where. Why did he get bad again?

[rafescoke]

Need To Know ; Rafe Cameron (Part 3)

masterlist

#Part 3

Previous parts: #Part 1, #Part 2

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: The reader confronts Rafe about his past

Warnings: Mentions of suicide!, major feels, substance, swearing, angst

A/N: I’m sorry for what I’m about to put you guys through. Thank you for 400 followers ily <3

p.s, my request box is always open

“Hello?”

“Hey?”

(Y/N) stopped pacing, her heartbeat quickening. She glanced at her wall, searching for the time, and she felt her heart ripping in two.

12.03 a.m.

“Hello?” The feminine voice said again, annoyed.

“Who is this?” She whispered, and she didn’t know what she was expecting. A part of her was telling her to end the call for the sake of her mental health, and another part of her was telling her to stay and wait.

“Who is this? You called me,” the voice sighed, and (Y/N) could hear the distant laughter coming from the television in the background. “Look, is this a prank? I’m not going to-”

“Is Rafe there?” She mumbled, and she could feel her forehead starting to sweat. She looked down to her hands, noticing how they were in a fist involuntarily.

“Who is this?” The voice asked again, but her voice perked up. “Sarah?”

“Who is it?” A manly voice suddenly appeared in the distant and (Y/N) widened her eyes, her mind starting to connect the dots. (Y/N) listened as whoever it was struggled to hold the phone while Rafe pushed them off for it before his voice thrummed against her eardrums again. “Who is this?”

She didn’t say anything, but she could feel her tears slowly pooling on the bottoms of her eyes. How could he do this to her? It has been 2 weeks since they last talked to each other, and when she finally tried to make it right again, here he was; with his ex.

“End it,” Rafe said to the girl, and before (Y/N) could say anything she heard the dial sped up, noting the end of the phone call. She stayed in the standing position a few more minutes, her head starting to feel light and she could feel her bearings slowly disappearing.

She hadn’t been eating good since their last fight, and most of her friends were starting to worry for her. Topper and Kelce came to visit her earlier that day, bringing McDonald’s and her favourite chocolate, but all she did was giving them a weak smile and proceeded to eat only a few of the fries before offering them to her father.

And she thought Rafe would be worse since he was the one who’s in the wrong, but based on her latest call, it gave her a clear meaning of how he doesn’t care about them and fixing whatever they had left.

She laughed, letting her tears fell to her cheeks, getting so used to her sore eyes now that they were apart of her look now. Her mind didn’t stop thinking about Rafe and the possibilities of them being together again, and how she hoped against hope that it was all a bit misunderstanding, and that he was just there with his ex for. . .

She didn’t know. There was no good reason for someone to stay in the same room as their ex, good friends or not.

She didn’t fell asleep until 6 in the morning, and she was woken up by the soft rapping against her door by her mother, asking her to wake up to start her day. She opened her eyes for a while, trying to think about what happened previously, and when the thought of what happened a few hours ago occurred in her mind, she closed her eyes to sleep them off again.

“Hey.”

“Huh?” She groaned, trying to open her eyes against the bright sunlight coming from her once always-open window. “Tops? What are you doing here?”

“I came to check on you,” he said, and watched as she shifted into a seating position. She was a mess; her hair was no longer that shiny (H/C) colour, her eyes were puffy and sore and her cheeks were red and blotchy. She was the epitome of a heartbreak.

“And I’m right. You’re not doing good.”

“I’m tired,” she croaked, and she sighed. Good. Another part of her losing. From her bright face to her hair, now it was the voice.

“And that’s not good,” Topper groaned, standing up and offering his hand to her. “You’ve been like this for 2 weeks, (Y/N), and I’m not letting you go on with this until the summer ends.”

“I’ll kill myself by then,” she mumbled, still not budging from her seat. “You should leave. I don’t want you here.”

Topper stared at her, and retrieved his hands back. (Y/N) glanced up at the blonde boy and sighed, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry, Tops. I don’t mean it like that. I’m just not okay. Thanks for checking up on me,” she quickly said, offering her own hands at him. Topper took her hands in his, pulling her up to her feet and watching her scrunched up sheets, signalling how she had been spending most of her time in there.

“It’s okay,” he said, “But I can’t let you do this to yourself, okay? We miss the bright you.”

“Rafe doesn’t seem to miss me.”

“Fuck him, god,” He groaned, already pulling her to the bathroom. “Look, there’s a party tonight-” he watched her face changed, “Wait! And I don’t think Rafe’s going to be there. Just a small party, you’re going to be there with me and Kelce, and it’s just going to be perfect. You’re in?”

“I look horrible.”

“Nothing a shower can’t fix.”

She groaned, scrunching her face up. “Fine. Only tonight. And you’re staying with me.”

Topper smiled, pulling her into a side hug and letting go of her quickly, pretending to pull a disgusted face only for her to push him away. “Kidding. You still smell good even after not showering for 3 days.”

“I shower.”

“It’s okay to not shower,” he sighed, watching her enter the bathroom and quickly locking the door. He leaned against the door, putting his mouth near the slit so she could hear him. “But it’s not okay to lie.”

(Y/N) laughed genuinely for the first time in 2 weeks, her heart lifting and her skin slowly regaining its colour.

Maybe she does want her old life back, even if there’s no Rafe in it.

. . .

“The news got around fast,” (Y/N) mumbled, throwing her now-shampooed hair over her shoulder. She watched as Kelce laughed, and noticed another pair of eyes on her. She gave the owner a look, to which she quickly looked away, embarrassed to be caught.

“Obx is small,” Topper shrugged, handing her a the red cup filled with Pepsi (she had told him beforehand that she wants to stay sober) with a sly smile. “And you’re the kook’s princess. I’m not surprised.”

(Y/N) scrunched her face at the taste of the carbonated drink, and put the cup aside, putting her hands up to her friends as a ‘wait’ sign before making her way to the drinks counter for a better choice. Her eyes skimmed over the mineral water to the cocktail, and lastly; the shots.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What? You told me I should have fun,” (Y/N) giggled, placing three shot glass on the table and a big glass bottle of Absolute Vodka. “Come on. Tops, you said you missed the old me.”

He swallowed his saliva and sighed, “Fine. One shot only.”

“Fair,” she giggled, pouring the alcohol into each glass and watched as her friends prepared themselves. They downed the whole glass when the counting by Kelce reached ‘3’, scrunching up their faces and feeling their throats burning from the taste.

(Y/N) laughed, her mind woozy and her heartbeat quickening from the thrill of everything. “This is fun.”

Topper laughed along with her, watching the way she was tilting her head. “Yeah. But that’s enough.”

“You’re no fun,” she pouted, and before he could stop her she downed herself another glass and shook her head right after, feeling the liquid slowly making their way down to her empty stomach.

“That’s enough,” Topper repeated, grabbing the bottle in case she was in her rebellion state, but he felt bad when she sat by the sofa with her arms crossed, not looking at him and inconstantly tapping her feet lightly to the music.

“Try something lighter,” he offered, and watched as she kept ignoring him. “You’re impossible.”

“I just want to drink,” she rolled her eyes, still not looking at him. She thought about how drinking was the only way to forget about him because all she wanted was to stop thinking about that certain boy for just a few minutes.

“Okay. But be careful,” he said, handing her the glass bottle. (Y/N) exclaimed in happiness and he couldn’t help but smile at her, watching her drinking straight from the bottle.

“Okay, fuck, you’re a bitch,” he quickly pulled the bottle away when she went for another gulp, “You broke our promise. Now you’re going to be drunk.”

“I’m not drunk,” she groaned, “I’m hardly ever drunk.”

But she felt light. So, so light. She felt like floating around the room, laughing at every joke and fighting with anyone who disagrees with her.

“I know that look,” Topper grunted, and sighed. “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

“I’m not, I’m just going to go to the bathroom, okay?-” she made to stand up, holding her hand up, “And don’t follow me, Tops, that’s sexual harassment.”

Kelce laughed and Topper hit him, muttering angrily about how ‘I was just trying to look after he, man’. His eyes followed her movement to the door on the far left of the house and he sighed, thinking about how this wasn’t his plan to help her at all.

(Y/N) hummed to the song blaring from the speaker as she tried to find the bathroom, being shocked twice to strangers kissing in a small room when she opened the door. She sighed, because she couldn’t guess her bearings anymore; she felt as if she was going around in circles, and there was no exit.

“(Y/N)?”

Her eyes fell on a pair of blue eyes, and she felt her heart stopped.

Is she hallucinating?

“Hey, you’re okay?” He made to touch her, but she flinched and pulled away, her heart banging against her chest.

“No,” she said, trying to get past him only to stumble, feeling so lightheaded she couldn’t differentiate the colours of the wall and the floor. Rafe caught her arms, lifting her up and helping her to walk.

“Let go,” she said, but she leaned onto his warm touch. She felt like crying; she missed his scent; a mixture of cigarette and expensive cologne and his hands around her, and she felt like enclosing herself to him.

“I’m not letting you go, you’ll fall,” he said, still trying to help her walk. “Did you drink anything?”

“What’dya think?” She mumbled, closing her eyes and letting him helped her. She didn’t have the strength to open her eyes anymore, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of the drinks or the sadness in her.

Rafe placed the intoxicated girl on top of a bed in an extra guest bedroom, watching as her chest heaved up and down slowly. He was sure she was sleeping from the way she was breathing and tried to leave her be before she realised that it was him who brought her in, but her fingers were wrapped around his wrist before he could go.

He stared at her as she slowly opened her eyes, and Rafe felt all the hurt in his heart starting to form again. She looked angelic, all soft under his touch, and he had missed her more than anything else in the world.

“Don’t go,” she whispered. “I missed you.”

His breath hitched, because he knew he didn’t deserve her. She was this gold trophy everyone wanted, and it was like he couldn’t take care of it. He sniffed and looked away, not wanting to stare into her eyes again.

“What’s wrong?” She whispered, her voice creaking. “Do you not love me anymore?”

“You know that’s not true,” he forced himself to speak, sighing. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“It’s okay,” she smiled weakly, pulling him next to her again. “We can be together again, right? Like always? I need you here, Rafe.”

“You don’t mean that,” he whispered back, and watched as her face contorted into anger.

“What do you mean I don’t mean that?” She tried to sir up, holding her head. Rafe tried to help her down again to which she swatted his hands away, “Don’t fucking touch me. I swear to god.”

“You’re drunk,” he tried to console her, putting his hands up in a surrender mode and watched as she backed away from him. “And I get that. I’m sorry. I won’t talk to you again.”

“You can’t just sorry me, fuck, Rafe, you’re an asshole,” she laughed, pointing her fingers at him. “You can’t tell me you’re sorry when you’re back with your fucking ex.”

He raised his brows, looking up to her. “What are you saying? I’m not back. . . oh. Oh my god. No, no, it’s not-” he watched her face changing, “No, no, baby, it’s not what you think it is.”

“I heard her.”

“I was just there, to, um, to talk to her-” he stood up, trying to get closer to her. He wanted to hold her, letting her stare into his eyes and see how sincere he is. In truth, he had been over his ex’s house to talk about how they should both put the failed relationship behind them for the sake of their future lives, but when he went to the toilet, (Y/N) had called him unexpectedly and of course his ex would pick the call up.

She’s always in for drama.

“Talk? Or fuck?”

“God, (Y/N), I swear! I was just talking to her!” He groaned, pulling on his hair and making it more messier than before. “I wanted her to stop talking about me and I’m sorry she answered the call, okay? I was, I, I was in the bathroom.”

“You’re stuttering,” she spitted, anger coursing through her veins. If he thought she would believe his stupid lies again. . .

“I’m nervous, fuck!” He cursed, looking into her eyes to search for any ounce of love she had had for him before. “Please, listen to me, (Y/N), I love you too much to let this go. I can’t let you go. I can’t.”

They were both breathing heavily, coming down from the brief fight they had a few minutes ago. He watched as she scooted closer, cupping his face to look into her eyes again. He sniffed, and he felt his temperature warming up.

“I trusted you, Rafe.”

“You can trust me again, (Y/N), I’m not lying, I swear,” he begged, putting his hands above hers. She closed her eyes, letting the tears under her eyes fell down to her cheeks, and Rafe quickly wiped them away, his heart heavy.

“Please. One more chance. Please.”

“I don’t know-”

“Please. I can’t live without you. I’ve been living off coke and fucking mineral bottles and I just can’t bring myself to do anything without you by my side,” he confessed, his own eyes glassy. “Please. You know you’re all I have.”

(Y/N) swiped her thumb over his lips and watched as he cried. She pulled him into a hug, her own heart heavy from the only choices she had; to go back, or don’t.

“I will always love you, Rafe. You do know that, right?” She whispered into his ear, and he pulled her closer. “And we can always be (Y/N) and Rafe.”

“Yeah,” he laughed, pulling them apart and cupping her face using his large hands. They were both crying now, staring into each other’s life as if on life support. “We can still be them, baby, we can.”

“We can’t.”

His face contorted into confusion, “No, no, we can. I swear. I’ll change. I’ll do anything for you.”

“We can’t, Rafe,” she sighed, holding cupping his own face with her fingers again. “And you know it. We’re just not ready for it.”

“We can,” he begged, his own voice trailing. “We can, baby, we can.”

“I’m always here for you, Rafe,” she said, her voice breaking. “And we’re just not fit for each other.”

“We are,” he tried, but he knew that look. He knew that final look so well. His heart felt heavier than ever now, and all he could think about was running non-stop until he couldn’t breathe.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to live anymore.

He pulled away, shielding himself from her using his back, wiping his tears and standing up from the bed. (Y/N) didn’t try to stop him now, watching him as he walked slowly towards the door.

He turned to look at her again for the last time, muttering a ‘I’m sorry’ before exiting the room. (Y/N) sighed, not wanting to walk out of the room, but she knew she had to get back to Topper before he finally realised her disappearance.

Her head felt better now, although she’ve just done the most hardest thing in her life. She knew their relationship wouldn’t be the same if she had accepted him back, already overseeing the amount of fights they’re going to have in the car, the screams they’ll give to each other. . . the best thing to do was to let him go.

Rafe didn’t think he was joking about wanting to end everything. He lost everything in his world; he lost his father who didn’t care about him, he lost his real mom, his relationship with his sisters and now, her.

He parked his car and stared at the blackness in front of him, his heart almost certain. He was scared, of course, but he didn’t want to think anymore.

The night breeze hit him as he made his way to the edge, hearing the sound of waves filling his eardrums. He took a look at the strong current below him and shuddered.

He thought about her again, his heartbeat beating faster. He saw her smile in his mind, her beautiful eyes and that calming voice.

He smiled, his cheeks wet from his tears, and did what he thought was right.

-

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[ameliora-j]

twin flame iii // gw x reader

words: 2.2k

warnings: angst, breakup, mention of bruising, crying, angelina slander kinda (it’s just for the story i love her sm!), yn is sorta a pick me if you squint sry, cringey mediocre writing at very best

an: i used song lyrics for some of the argument and the ending :) i hope you like it besties!

part one | part two | part four

you george! i want you!

the words had been running through his mind since the night you left. he had been going over the days leading up to your explosion in his mind for weeks. your words were in his mind day and night. your pained expression, your anger, your hurt. you consumed him. more than you usually did.

george weasley knew he fucked up. he knew without anyone telling him. but they did anyway. every waking second they did. first it was fred, calling him a jerk. then ron, who called him a “bloody idiot.” then ginny, who told him it was his own fault. and then his mum. of course his mum, who said in exact words: “george fabian weasley, this is nobody’s fault but your own. quit moping around and do something to fix it! i didn’t raise you to treat women this way!”

his last straw, however, was his older brother percy. percy of all people. who looked at him with a disappointed shake of his head. receiving a disappointed head shake from percy was nothing out of the ordinary, especially for george. it was his words that stung. percy spoke ten simple words to him that truly set george off. percy spoke “you lost the best thing that’s ever happened to you.” at his sentence, george lost it.

“i know that percy! you don’t think i fucking know that i lost the best thing that ever happened to me! and fred i know i’m a jerk and ron i know i’m an idiot and ginny i know it’s my fault and mum i’m sorry okay! i know you didn’t raise me like this i don’t know what’s wrong with me but i don’t think she’s coming back!” he fell back onto the couch as he tugged frustratedly at his roots.

“george… do you love her?” molly asked him.

“yes mum,” a whimper escaped the fiery-haired boy’s throat. “i love her more than i’ve ever loved anyone before. she’s my world,” he revealed.

“then go, george. go get her,” his dad said. “for your sake and her’s,” he told him.

“and our’s!” fred called distantly from the kitchen.

“shove off fred!” george called back before apparating to your front door. he knocked three times and waited for someone to answer it. when you opened the door, he was shocked at your state.

makeup streaked down your cheeks with your shoulder bruised and your arm in a splint. your eyes were red and puffy, but they were furthermore accompanied by dark bags as if you hadn’t slept in weeks. the truth is; you hadn’t. “hi george,” you mumbled half heartedly.

“hi butterfl-“ you cut him off.

“yn. my name is yn,” you spoke sternly.

“i’ve called you butterfly since you were three…” he murmured.

“not anymore. hurts too bad to hear it. did you need something?” you quickly changed the subject.

“i want to talk to you,” he said. you nodded and walked in, telling him to follow you. george said hello to your brother and then followed you into the lounge where you two sat on the loveseat and you turned to face him.

you sat in a long silence as your eyes traced each other’s features. you memorized him. every line, every freckle, every bump, bruise, and blemish. the silence was deafening. untill he finally broke it. “what happened to your arm?” he murmured softly.

“it splinched when i apparated home. then i apparated again and made it worse,” you bit your lip softly.

“always so reckless,” he tutted softly, causing you to shrug.

“what’d you wanna talk about? know you didn’t come to talk about my arm…” you attempted to get to the point of his visit.

“right,” he murmured softly. “yn i…” he took a deep breath. “the day that i let you walk out of my life is the day that i made the worst mistake in the history of mistakes. i’ve done some stupid things in my life, but letting you walk away has by far been the stupidest. i’m so so sorry that i hurt you the way i did, i cannot express to you how sorry i am, i truly cannot. i love you, yn. with all of me i do, you have to believe me when i say that.”

“i do believe you george. i just don’t believe that you love me the way that i love you. and carrying around that pain is killing me. i mean absolutely destroying me. you live in my mind rent free. you’ve infested it,” you told him. “you with your stupid pretty smile and your god awful jokes and your ridiculous pranks that you somehow always rope me into and your perfect hair and your pretty eyes and just. you. george. stupid you. oblivious you. godric george,” you roughly shoved his chest. “i’ve loved you for years and you’ve always looked past me!” tears rimmed your bottom lash line and your voice cracked as you lashed out on him.

“for years george, i mean years! i’ve watched you fall in love with countless girls just to have your heart broken by them. i stuck by you through everything. even when you stopped being being my friend because it made angelina uncomfortable i waited for you george! and you just pushed me to the side. i did everything for you. i executed pranks for you. i planned pranks for you. i took the fall for you. i got detention for you! i did it all for you. i mean the countless amount of things i did just to be able to call you mine and i just… you didn’t care! you’ve never cared! you’ll never love me the way that i love you and that hurts. so. fucking. bad.” you wiped your eyes.

“it kills me george. it eats at me, every single day it does. i stood by your side and i took the blame with you even when i had nothing to do with the stupid shit you pulled at hogwarts because yeah i was going down, but hey, at least i was doing it with you, right? we made so much trouble and-and we used to laugh. and be happy. we were genuinely happy and i don’t know where we went wrong but we did, but i still say that i hate you with a smile on my face! i don’t get it george why don’t you love me!” a whimper tore itself from the depths of your chest as you let out a silent sob.

“now look what we’ve became…” he murmured, tears falling from your eyes.

“all the things i did just to call you mine… and… and all the things you said but… somehow, i still hope i was your favorite crime. cause merlin knows you were mine.” you sniffled as you wiped your eyes.

“you were mine. you’ll always be my favorite crime.” he leaned over and kissed your head as another silent sob racked your body. “now it’s bittersweet to think about the damage that we did,” he smiled over at you sadly. “i love you butterfly. just as much as you love me, if not more,” he whispered as he stood from his place.

you rolled your eyes water-logged eyes, but still managed to smile. “i wish you thought about that before,” you whispered.

“i do too… i guess i’ll have to just call you the one that got away then?” he asked.

“in another life georgie… i’d be your girl. and we’d keep every promise that we made,” you told him.

“and i wouldn’t have to say you were the one that got away,” you nodded as he kissed your head again. “i love you, butterfly. i always have.”

“i love you too, georgie. i always will,” you sniffled as you watched him walk out the door. you didn’t want this. you wanted to stop him. everything in your body screamed at you to stop him. but your brain wouldn’t work. your heart said no. you were scared of being hurt again.

you wanted to do something. yell at him. tell him to come back. to hug you. to never leave you. to never let you go. but your heart wouldn’t let you. you were frozen in time.

~~

it’ll all get better in time.

you’d heard the saying time and time again. especially after your parents passed away. it was people’s favorite line to use when they saw you. the truth is… you didn’t stop hurting. the pain didn’t go away. you just got used to it. but the pain you were feeling now… you didn’t know if it would ever go away. at least it didn’t feel like it.

two months. it had been two months since george walked out of your house that night. it was nobody’s fault but your own, and somehow you couldn’t help wishing he would’ve stayed.

you saw him everywhere. in the stars in the night sky. in the sunrise and the sunset. in coffee shops and store windows. even in your dreams when you slept. so logically, you decided to stop. if you didn’t sleep you couldn’t dream. and if you didn’t dream, you couldn’t see him.

you dutifully ignored the pain in your chest like an annoying bug on a picnic. you pretended that you were fine, but the reality was; you weren’t. but you played it off. and you were able to keep up your facade. untill one day… that one fateful day tucked in the corner at ninety three diagon alley. your brother asked you to pick up ten second pimple vanisher because he had a date tonight and just received a pimple the size of jupiter on his nose, causing him to look like “the muggle myth rudolph the red-nosed reindeer” as he put it.

you walked into the shop and kept your head down as you searched the aisles. it wasn’t where it usually was. you knew this shop like the back of your hand, of course you had… you’d worked there for nearly three years. you furrowed your brows as you looked around. the shop had completely transformed. nothing was in the place it usually was. that’s when your eyes landed there. on her. right at the front, behind the till at the register you worked, in the uniform you wore was angelina johnson.

you sighed deeply as you extended your neck around the corner to where the office was. you smiled triumphantly as you saw fred sitting at his desk and began your trek. you gently knocked twice on the opened door and fred called, “come in,” distractedly.

you walked in and sat on the desk, right in front of him, forcing him to look up at you. “yn!” fred exclaimed.

“hi freddie!” you smiled as a giggle escaped your lips and you returned the death-grip hug he had enveloped you in.

“what brings you by? not that i don’t love seeing your pretty face, of course,” he shot you a playfully flirtatious wink.

“ybn needs ten second pimple vanisher because he has a date tonight and he woke up with a pimple the size of jupiter on his nose,” fred laughed loudly at your remark. “i tried to look for it, but the stores completely turned around,” you pouted slightly.

“oh yeah, we changed some things up because we needed room for our new products. they’re still in the making, but george disappeared,” he hummed.

“george what?” you asked.

“you didn’t know…?” he asked you.

“no. i… i had no idea,” you stuttered.

“yeah. after the night he went to talk to you, he left a note on our kitchen counter and all his things were packed and he just… left. we haven’t seen or heard from him since. ‘s just been angie and i running the shop now. couldn’t do it alone,” fred explained as he picked up the box. “here you are l-“ before he could finish, you were halfway out the door. “YN WAIT!” he called. “YOU FORGOT YOUR PRODUCT!”

“SORRY FRED! YBN WILL BE OKAY I HAVE TO GO!” you called as you ran out the door as fast as your feet would carry you. if you knew george weasley… and you did… there was only one place he could be. and you prayed to any and every god that would listen that he was there. you prayed like your life depended on it that he was okay. you needed to fix this. to fix him. to make it alright.

in this moment you knew that he needed you. he needed you like peanut butter needs jelly. the way left needs right. like the sun needs the moon. he needed you like you needed him. you ran and ran and ran for miles untill you got to a secluded area. then you took a breath. and you apparated.

it was exactly the way you left it. a dingy old wooden box house sitting at the highest branch of a sycamore tree. you groaned softly as you began to climb the many branches. “george i swear to godric you better be in here,” you grumbled to yourself as you climbed.

it felt like hours—truly it was ten grueling minutes at most—untill you got to the door of the house. you whispered the password and it creaked open. “georgie,” you breathed when you saw him.

there he was. laying on the floor of the treehouse wrapped in blankets and a sleeping bag with a small pillow under his head. the apple to your pie. the straw to your berry. the smoke to your high. the one you knew you’d marry.

the one that got away. your twin flame.

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[infinitelytheheartexpands]

alright we are BACK! last three acts let’s get it

-once again, gratuitous word changes

-pls get my kiddo out of military fatigues

-seriously though she’s such an amazing chorus i love her energy so much

-okay so i looked up this actress and according to her instagram this was her first EVER shakespeare production. how the FUCK

-NICE lighting and effects

-i continue to love this quartet of singers

-ONCE MORE UNTO THE BREACH

-they’re singing sweet caroline oh boy

-protect her <3

-the way she switches to mandarin because she’s scared 🥺

-katherine is also gower

-falstaff is fluellen

-Stereotype Captain Time!

-quickly is macmorris!

-“say that to my FACE, you little bitch” -not what macmorris said but what macmorris MEANT

-the governor of harfleur is on a video call

-when henry threatens the women at harfleur exeter (a woman in this production) gives him a side glance like “WHAT”

-this scene is always a LOT

-katherine and alice are boxing!

-i love them both so much

-alice playfully punches katherine in the elbow when she gets the word wrong

-this katherine is definitely DELIGHTED to be able to cuss

-“bloody england” in a french accent goes HARD

-most exciting take on the king of france’s speech ever

-fluellen’s got a little snack

-also hi subtitler why can’t you translate any of the welsh

-pistol flips fluellen off

-now montjoy has a fancy coat

-henry offers montjoy a seat beside him and montjoy takes it but not before dusting it off lol

-bardolph gets hanged onstage after montjoy leaves and henry just watched

-and that’s where they put intermission!

-haunting song to kick us off for the second half!

-chorus rocks it again

-is the dauphin sniffing cocaine?

-“MON CHEVAL EST MA MAITRESSE”

-HARRY LE ROY

-“no i’m a welshman” “OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE”

LMAO PISTOL

-go OFF williams

-yeah henry this is…not a great argument

-the way williams just casually tossed her glove at henry omg

-time for henry to have a breakdown

-more beautiful singing

-awww we only got the first bit of “o god of battles” :(

-rambures is not your lackey just because she’s a woman

-alright everyone it’s st crispin’s time

-let’s sit down and have a Moment

-say it with me: we few, we happy few, we band of brothers…

-henry groans and rolls his eyes when montjoy shows up

-henry: how many fucking times do i have to tell you i am NOT going to be ransomed

-henry made a very naughty pun on constable

-alright battle of agincourt HERE WE GO!!!

-wait is he singing the aria of the cold spirit from purcell’s king arthur? if so weird choice but okay

-clever that the sword becomes a bayonet in this staging

-kiddo went (citation needed)

-shoutout to sound and lighting and special effects y’all are POPPING OFF

-someone give exeter a hug

-rip all the kids

-except our kiddo is apparently the english herald now? at least she lived i guess

-henry just YEETED kiddo dude why

-ope it’s prisoner killing time

-everyone else: what the fuck henry

-henry just killed one himself omg

-and rip all the french prisoners

-well that broke my heart (the quartet sang while all the dead french prisoners took off their shoes and left them in the dirt. i think a few english did so too. kiddo stood there and cried and a couple soldiers tried to provide comfort)

-rare production to keep fluellen’s rambling here

-also interesting that fluellen seems to be REALLY upset with henry here

-montjoy does not have his fancy coat anymore :(

-poor montjoy needs a hug

-henry’s first reaction after learning of the victory is to go “WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO”

-fluellen starts singing in welsh and someone shoots him a Look

-well at least we simplified the glove subplot because in full form it works very rarely

-poor williams is spiraling

-williams is so relieved she goes “oh FUCK”

-someone give williams a hug

-henry does not seem very shocked or upset by the french death totals

-they also cut the english death total down to 25??? they just omitted the reading of the four names because…reasons?

-RAGER in the english camp

-“rager over everyone our time for me to do my next speech”

-yes girlie do that mic drop

-leek scene!

-so they’re setting up for this meeting

-chorus kiddo replaces gower, presumably bc gower is also playing katherine

-who thought it would be a good idea to have fluellen and pistol work together

-fluellen is just straight up beating pistol

-fluellen is now holding a knife to his neck and making him eat chunks he spit out from the floor, which seems…a bit much

-and fluellen is now…peeing on pistol? because reasons?

-and now pistol is trying to shoot himself because of quickly’s death

-first production to actually make me feel really bad for pistol in this scene?

-the queen of france is not in this production

-katherine gets her lines, which are translated into french

-i love katherine and alice so much

-henry is HOPELESS

-GET HIM KATHERINE

-henry yells at alice for not being able to translate dude chill out

-oh he’s PISSED

-oh that was a “fuck you” kiss from katherine if i EVER saw one

-dauphin flipped off henry lol

-“zadok the priest” time

-“his england…my england…our england” ouch. the world belongs to and has ramifications for more than just the powerful, huh?

anyway, great show and great job everyone!

national theatre/donmar warehouse henry v is free for the next few days, so let’s react:

-starting off strong with this quote

-chorus immediately wins my heart

-also i want her outfit

-weird choice to just change words here and there but okay i guess

-i do miss the double meaning of “ciphers” (they replaced it with “actors”)

-chorus is apparently doubling boy

-her little wink at the audience omg

-“sweet caroline party remix” LMAO

-starting off with a scene from 1 henry iv (i think) with bardolph (who is also a woman) instead of poins?

-okay but this sweet caroline remix low key SLAPS

-“boy!” “GIRL!”

-quickly is FINE

-henry iv hal plot speedrun

-okay but that is NOT how hal found out about his dad’s death. he was there!

-love the singers

-poor hal 😭

-funeral crashers!

-also yeah that was NOT how that rejection happened

-also why are you only going to do like five lines of that speech if you’re going to do it. you can spare a couple extra minutes

-this is now the second english history production i’ve seen with the opening of monteverdi’s vespers to the blessed virgin

-the throne is a blue plastic chair lol

-THE ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY HAS A SALIC LAW POWERPOINT I REPEAT HE HAS A SALIC LAW POWERPOINT

-does not feature clip art unfortunately but STILL. OH MY GOD.

-henry is STRUGGLING

-i just need to share exeter’s face

-everyone groaning when the powerpoint continues lmao

-montjoy is also FINE

-gratuitous word changes continue

-everyone starts awkwardly laughing at the tennis balls

-montjoy’s calm side eye at “but this lies all within the will of God” omg

-great tennis balls speech

-oh so that’s where that line went

-chorus/kid is part of a training montage. isn’t the kid supposed to be like 12???

-nym is just Sad (nym is also played by the same actor as montjoy)

-what do y’all have against iceland

-pistol kisses his (arm) guns on “i am armed” lol

-kiddo yells at bardolph in mandarin

-“little body with a mighty heart” yeah that’s you chorus <3

-cambridge and scroop are played as women but still referred to with masculine titles

-british friends: is that a thing now? i’ve noticed it a couple other times too

-also bye bye henry/scroop homoeroticism i guess

-cambridge and scroop are also both very pretty (and i want cambridge’s sweater)

-henry cannot remember grey’s name for the life of him lolol

-cambridge screams “you are destroying this country!” and then tries to attack henry…and then immediately asks for mercy

-weird cut here but okay i guess

-this speech breaks my heart every time

-nym very awkwardly gives quickly a thumbs up before leaving

-okay but why are pistol and quickly low key adorable

-oh honey someone give her a hug please

-off to france!

-ooh they’re doing this scene in french!

-ooh katherine is here! and she’s fighting with her brother! she is politically savvy!

-the dauphin awkwardly greeting exeter in english lolol

-the king is just looking at the dauphin like “what the FUCK did you do”

-the dauphin took that euphemism and ran with it

-the dauphin going “bye bye” omg

-EXETER GOING “AND ENCHANTÉ” BACK AT HIM LMAO

okay i’ve got my own play to get ready for so that’s it for now but rest later, i hope!