#listen…I know in my bones that one day there will be a romcom that’s just

[butchelves]

I personally cannot wait to see the cultural consequences of voltron legendary defender come to fruition

[thetriumphantpanda]

rainy days | frankie morales

Summary | It has never been your favourite day, but he always knows how to make it better.

Pairing | Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Word Count |

Warnings | Mentions of depression and sadness, negative feelings around birthdays, Frankie makes it all better, two idiots truly in love, allusions to smut but nothing explicit.

Authors Note | To my darling Jo, @undercoverpena - whilst this is my entry to your birthday celebration (I got the colour old rose, apologies for the tenuous link to brief you're about to read), it is also my love letter to you. To the woman you are. To the friend you have become. A love letter to the fact that you can be soft and emotional and have flaws and still be worthy of all the love in the world. Because you are. I have said it many times in recent days, but it is the truth, that I love you unconditionally and I am forever grateful for your friendship and love. I am here for you. I see you. I understand you. And I love you. Happy Birthday darling woman.

He knows it isn’t your favourite day of the year. One that is usually meant to bring joy and happiness and love is instead one that fills you with dread. Worried people would forget, having to force a smile at gifts that show that they really don’t know you at all.

He knows not to push it either. He’s good at that. Knowing the battles to pick and those to leave. You suppose that’s why you love him so much. The way he’s comfortable to sit in your hurt with you, not immediately jumping into fixing it, because it’s been years and you don’t think he could truly unravel everything behind the feelings. But he’s there, with a strong arm around you and a kiss to your forehead. It doesn’t need words, just his presence to say I’m here, I see you and I love you regardless.

It rains, because of course it does, weather to match mood, drowning out any hopes of the walk he’d promised. You distract yourself, cleaning mainly, even though the kitchen counters are spotless and the vacuum has been used more times in the past week than it has in the previous two years since you bought it. Distraction mainly, but now, with nothing to do, you sit. Listen to the fat raindrops and odd rumble of thunder. You reread the same four pages of your book, hopelessly trying to stop checking your phone for missed calls or messages of glad tidings.

The doorbell rings, startling you. Clad in a big jumper, leggings and socks, hair scraped back, you open the door, roar of rain rushing in, to find him standing there. Your man. Your Frankie. He’s soaked to the bone, t-shirt wet and cap dripping, but he’s smiling, both hands behind his back.

“You’ll catch your death, Morales,” you chastise lightly, moving aside for him to step into the warmth of your house, but he makes no effort to move, “Are you coming in?”

It almost makes you laugh when he starts talking, like a scene from the old romcoms you used to watch, but you let him do it anyway. His right hand moves first, a beautiful bouquet of flowers, a dusty rose colour, which he hands to you. They remind you of the paint swatches, the way he’d patiently waited at the store for you to pick it. And then painted eleven swatches on the living room wall until you settled on one.��Old rose.

“Hermosa,” he breathes, “Feliz cumpleaños.”

He bends, warm lips to your cheek, finally stepping across the threshold into your home, the place he spends more time in than his own home, his other secret revealed in the shape of a basket, woven, with a telltale red and white gingham poking out.

“Damn the rain,” he says, “and damn this misery, I know we can’t have this outside, but I know you hate eating outside anyway.”

He holds the basket up to you, lets you open the top. It’s full to the brim with food, all of your favourite things from your favourite places you’ve been with him in the past year. Pastries from the coffee shop where you had your first date, fruit from the farmer’s market you visit each Sunday, sandwiches from the shop you always stop at when you visit him at work to make sure he’s eating - it’s all there, in black and white, the moments you’ve shared, tiny, edible pieces of his love and care for you, that’s he’s the first person to ever truly see you, to ever truly know you. It makes your eyes water and your nose sniffle.

You press up on tiptoes and gently slant your lips over his, trying to tell him without words how much this means, how much you truly do love him.

You spread a blanket on the floor, unpack the food and sit for hours, eating and talking and kissing, until it goes dark outside. It still rains as he clears up, lightening now illuminating the sky, it rains as he leads you upstairs and undressed you, and thunder cracks along with your gasps and moans when he buries himself inside you.

It eases late, after he’s woken you in the dead of night with his mouth fused to your cunt. Draped across his chest, silence, save for the two of your breathing, you realise that this is all you need. One man who will do the most for you. One man who will continue, day in and day out, that he truly loves you. Maybe it won’t fix the disdain for your birthday, maybe it won’t fix anything else, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that he found you and he loves you.

“Muchas gracias,” you whisper softly against his skin, “Te amo, mi amor.”

“Te amo, querida.”

[mermaidsirennikita]

So the Susan Elizabeth Phillips book I'm listening to is It Had to Be You (because the only Chicago Stars book I've read is Nobody's Baby But Mine and it's football season so TIME 2 GO)

And though there are for sure some choices made that VERY much signal this is a 1994 novel (one wording in like, the first chapter, made my eyebrows shoot STRAIGHT UP) (though I'll also say that this book is super about Gay Rights, like our heroine Phoebe surrounds herself with gay men and donated a fuckton of money to AIDs-related charities, and to be clear her 1990s football coach hero is also v down with the gays~, I am blindly going with it)

I will also say that whenever I read an SEP book, I'm struck by several things I find so difficult to find in current contemporary romcoms...

A) legit humor

B) ... thoughtful writing ....

C) the couple just. FUCKING AROUND.

Like, Phoebe has a lot of trauma and hangups (she's also 33, which I love! And I suspect that her hero, Dan, is probably in his late thirties/early forties) but a big part of this book is her learning to be comfortable with sex, which happens with Dan, even though Dan is in fact completely unaware that this is what is going on and just thought that her being like "Can you pretend I'm a virgin" the first time they boned was roleplaying

(Dan: WHEN WILL SOMEONE FUCK ME IN A NON-ROLEPLAYING CONTEXT???)

But like... they have sex... and he doesn't realize what a big deal it was for her so he just sorta skedaddles... and she's pissed about it so they sort of simmer in mutual "it'll never happen again" resentment... until they sorta buddy-buddy because he realizes he was being a dick (don't worry, this is SEP, he WILL be a dick again) and then she pisses him off so much by being like YOOHOO BOYS I THINK PICTURING THE OTHER TEAM NAKED WILL HELP YOU WIN THE FOOZEBALL GAME and then it WORKS, so naturally he then confronts her in the airplane bathroom directly after and she calls him on his shit and dresses him down, only to realize during turbulence-related body-slamming that her berating him made him FULLY aroused, which leads to a partial airplane BJ (her first BJ) (Dan, who does not know this is her first BJ, mentally: she is "sweetly awkward" about this) and an airplane fingerbang (complete) (this poor football team is just asleep a few feet away)

And now! They're just sorta sitting in snarky, not-dating, sometimes fucking around limbo... all while this man is fully like "I WILL BE ASKING THAT SWEET NURSERY SCHOOL TEACHER OUT BECAUSE I THINK SHE'LL BE A GREAT MOM TO MY NONEXISTENT KIDS.... TOMORROW........................... AFTER I FUCK PHOEBE AGAIN.................."

(Because mind you, when she was all "but you didn't come in this airplane bathroom" he was like "ohmigod her sweetly awkward unfinished BJ made me feel A Feeling, I've gotta put some distance between us by telling her that one day I'm going to just say 'Now' and regardless of where we are or what she's doing she needs to follow me to the closest broom closet and SPREAD'")

(to which Phoebe goes "oh actually that sounds amazing", so it did backfire)

There is no discussion of dating or their feelings! There is no rational discussion! They're just impetuously hooking up when they get horny! And sitting there snarking at the workplace (because MIND YOU, she OWNS THE FOOTBALL TEAM HE'S COACHING) while everyone on this football team probably considers whether or not this is becoming a hostile work environment! They're sort of semi-raising her teenage sister together at this point and there has been NO! DEFINING! THE RELATIONSHIP! NO! SENSE! ALL! FEELINGS! AND! FUCKING! AND! MESS!

Honestly??? It also just feels more like how a lot of relationships develop organically??? From situationships to "Oh wait, we're like... dating..." without a full-length discussion until it's already kinda happening?

Like, this is the vibe I want from a contemporary romance. Less rational robotic shit and more "local idiots stumble into love"

[the-good-projxct]

March 8th, 2024

9:52 pm listening to what's my name by Rihanna sitting in KaMami’s room with her and Aunty KendiKakes. I did not write yesterday or the day before. Well for the day before I had already chosen a picture to use for one of this week's entries. But last night, I didn’t. For two reasons, I didn’t have my computer but I had my phone and I have written in my apps note and transferred it. Honestly, I was just in a different zone and I didn’t want to do anything other than be in that zone. I’ve been enjoying having KaMami and LoustaLoustaBaby in Nairobi. We went to the mall then we went to see my little cousin Nita and her baby girl Kiki. They are so cute. Holding a 3 month old is so precious. They're soo little and just…soo vulnerable that it brings joy and heartbreak at the same time. Something about babies is pure bliss and absolute chaos at the same time. We came back home and Shaka and Aunty Bome came by. We all spent some time together, the elders Karimi and Moka wa Mwiti were there as well. Then I left with an uber to Munene’s side of town for a few days. I got there and it was already evening so we had supper and vibed for a while. Then we went to an avocado packing plant at like 11pm till 2pm. Munene does export stuff so I tagged along so I could see what he has been up to. It was cool and ting. I was pretty sleepy when we got back to the apartment though. The next day we had a slow start. Walked to the shop, bought stuff to make breakfast then made breakfast together. Crazy story, I am struggling to conceptualize that I have a bae, that I am in Love. Like it feels…foreign. But also, he feels like home. I love doing mundane things with Munene. Like I can do nothing with him for eternity and not be bored. I think the perks of having a partner is doing romantic, touchy, sexy things with/to one another as you do mundane things. Anyway, I enjoyed making breakfast with him. We watched an episode of Love is Blind. Then we went to the mall. We took some edibles before heading out. I stopped being a stoner in 2022 but I did it a few times in 2023. I brought some edibles with me for Munene’s birthday present. So we decided to take them then go on the ferris wheel at the mall. It’s a pretty big, very western mall. The edibles hit at the perfect time, we had stopped by their office for a few. So it was soo funny to see him conducting business knowing we’re both on edibles. Then we went to the ferris wheel. The gag is, we’re both scared of heights but we both didn’t think through how high that ferris wheel goes. So once we sat in it, the fear kicked in. The ride goes twice, we only did one run cuz fear... Anyway, while up there we kissed, held hands, and said I Love you’s. It’s so crazy because life feels very romcom with Munene. We went to the grocery store because we had munchies, then we went back to his office for a while. I was sitting on the balcony then I looked up and saw hearts in the sky. Like yo, life is a movie right now. We went home, I took a nap, we watched more Love is Blind then slept. Munene Loves me. I know this in my bones. In my Soul. I Love him. We are falling in Love. I have worked so hard to heal so much stuff. I know I am ready for Love, tenderness and a partner. I feel self sabotage tryna creep in. It’s so weird because the sabotage is from my ego. My soul is at ease and in Love. My ego is tryna start shit it cannot finish. Anyway, I have the tools to take care of my ego/me/us. It’s like while living the dream, my ego doesn’t feel like it's enough or I am worthy. Even though I know I am enough. And I am worthy. I want us. I Love us. I know I will need to be consciously in Love this time. I know I am making a choice this time. I finally get it, Love is a choice. I want to choose Munene over and over and over forever. Life is Gøod. We are Gøod. I am Gøod. The Universe is Gøod. Love is Gøod. Home is Gøod. Ase. Ase.

[mediawhorefics]

hiii marie i watched tsn last night and probably just spammed your notes with tsn rb's (sorry!) and i remembered you were writing the tsn fic! i'm super super excited to read it and i was wondering if there was a snippet you might be able to share with us? thank you <3

omg !! i just saw kjnvjkfds pls know you are welcome to spam my tsn tag whenever you want !!! i always feel like i'm annoying when i go on a tsn reblog spree or a tsn fic related reblog spree rip. (tho it's my blog i guess i can do whatever i want!) anyways i'm glad to know someone is enjoying that tag <333 (LOVED your 'i watch tsn like a queer drama' addition.... so true bestie)

and yes ofc i can share a snippet of the fic !!! no one has really asked before so thank you !! it's so nice to know some people are excited for it. idk how much you know about it? i've talked about it here and there, but basically, it's a you've got mail post canon au where mark gets signed up to a super exclusive mostly anonymous dating app for rich people against his will (dustin and his meddling, honestly!!) and he ends up falling head over heels in love with someone on there only to find out it was eduardo all along (she sings to the tune of agatha all along). anyways it's this very cheesy romcom trope-y story where mark basically has to realise that the only 2 times he's ever been in love were actually with the same person and if he wants to have peace of mind and true happiness he needs to earn eduardo's forgiveness and own up to his mistakes. it's gonna be so kitsch i can't wait to post it !!! it's this 100k monster rn and there's still a fair bit of plot to go on rip. i'm rambling now sorry, i've just been having soooo much fun with it and i don't get a lot of occasions to talk about it haha.

anyways here's a snippet that i thought wasn't tooo spoilery??? hope you'll like it !!! tw i gave them the world worst's usernames because i thought it would be funny af haha. apologies it's still unpolished and needs some edits but:

Mark never particularly liked the cold growing up, but there is always something eerie to him about December silently creeping in without much of a fuss in California. It always seems a little wrong to his New York State grown bones, his Harvard in winter thickened skin. Oh, the temperature drops, for sure, their equivalent of ‘cold’, but Mark recalls Massachusetts freezing winter days, him in his shorts in the snow and a disapproving Wardo staring after him, begging him to please put some clothes on, Mark’s skin prickling under the wind as he ignored him. Winter in Palo Alto is child’s play in comparison, which is the point of living there he supposes. It’s nice, but it’s strange. 

Feels off. 

It feels even more off when he knows he’s not gonna bother going back home for the break this year – like most years, let’s be honest – and get his fill of razor-sharp wind and bone-chilling cold. 

Winter always reminds him of the early days of Facebook; him glued to his laptop day and night in his freezing dorm room, pages and pages and pages of code that weren’t quite a website yet fighting to get out of his brain and onto the screen, and Dustin, Chris and Eduardo, a constant warm presence he was barely aware of hovering at his back. Especially Eduardo. 

And speaking of Eduardo, winter always reminds Mark of him too, despite his best efforts. 

Eduardo, who never liked the cold, not after spending his seminal years in Brazil, then Miami, who always struggled through the sunless, frozen, winter months he spent at Harvard, even though he never wanted to admit it. 

It reminds him of Eduardo’s shivering body that night he approached him with the idea for Facebook, cold cold cold cold, but listening to Mark about his idea outside in the January air all the same, the two of them alone on the cusp of something great. They could have been the only two people on Earth that night in the whipping wind. It’s what it felt like to Mark anyways, what it always felt like to Mark. Them against the world. Before The Phoenix, before Christy, before Sean… 

Wardo would have liked Palo Alto, Mark thinks that December morning as he makes his way to work and a slow melancholy takes hold of him, the way it always does what that kind of thoughts take root in his mind. 

He would have enjoyed the almost perpetual sunshine, the heat, the cool people he would have fit with so easily, the way Mark never could no matter how long he’s lived here… 

Mark sighs, taking a second in his assigned parking spot to compose himself. This stupid Gala he has to attend next week has been messing with his brain ever since Dustin discretely informed him that Eduardo Saverin has confirmed his presence to the event as well. 

And it’s fine. Eduardo can go wherever he likes. Especially when he’s invited. Mark isn’t his keeper or anything. And he’s proven many times in the past that they can be in the same room without yelling at each other. Well, most times anyways. 

But he’s always a little unsettled when he knows Wardo is stateside, the needle of his Eduardo inner compass all over the place, trying to reorient itself when it realizes that Far Far Away is no longer that far. Which is probably why he always feels like his heart is about to explode when they’re in the same room. 

It can’t be regrets, because Mark forbade himself from feeling those a long time ago. 

But it sure is something. 

He still feels a little itchy after a few minutes alone in his car so he gets his phone out, composing a quick text for eswag82. 

Winter always makes me melancholic, he types, something so incredibly soothing about the comfort of an ally, a friend, a confident, never further away than his pocket. Reflective. I start remembering things I never would normally think about. I don’t know if it’s seasonal depression or something, but… I’m always getting sad over nothing. Over stuff I should have been done with a long time ago. But I can’t help myself. It’s like December hits and suddenly… Do you know what I’m talking about? 

Mark sighs as he sends the text: time to face the music. 

The day passes quickly between meetings and coding and important phone calls… He doesn’t have the chance to check his personal texts until late in the afternoon but when he does, miraculously, warmth permeates through the cold of the approaching winter and spreads through him like a sip of burning hot coffee. 

I know exactly what you’re talking about, E writes. Everything slows down in winter, including us. We have the time to get reflective and melancholy. So many holidays in so many cultures too. A time of celebration, of togetherness. That can be challenging when you don’t feel particularly joyful. Or in my family’s case, together. Seeing what it should or could be highlights what it isn’t sometimes, yk? Or at least it’s like that for me.

I’m sorry, Mark writes back, feeling angry again on E’s behalf for that family that doesn’t make him feel welcome, doesn’t make him feel like he can be himself. 

It is what it is. I haven’t gone back home in a while now and this year won’t be any different. Sometimes taking care of yourself looks like neglecting others from an outsider’s perspective, but… I can’t worry about that. 

I’m not going home either this year. I’m busy, which is true, but it’s also… I don’t think I could stomach it. It’s been a while for me too and they’re great, but I still feel like I’m on the outside, yk? Like I’m looking at them through the windows and no matter how much I want to, I can’t go in. 

Mark swallows hard. He swallows back down more feelings of rejection and more fear that no matter what he does it’s never enough to belong. He swallows back down the fact that he created Facebook to be part of the club and he now fears he elevated himself so much higher that he can never fit in anymore. And he doesn’t even like people that much, he’s always said so, but the older he gets the more he feels they can be tedious and still part of his life anyway, that being alone at the top might not be the end goal he’s looking for anymore.

[sarcasmandships]

honey and glass ~ spencer reid

i am in love with spencer reid but he only has eyes for jennifer jareau

spencer reid x reader angst + hurt/comfort (sorta, it’s all in first person but with no names/no specific descrptions)

song fic inspired by ‘honey and glass’ by peyton cardoza

word count: 4.8k

disclaimer: i do not ship jeid or think they had any chemistry but it’s a good opportunity for angst x

you know those kinds of girls who look like they're made of honey and glass like sticky sweet ash

it’s a summers night in california and i’m on the beach at sunset.

the sand is rough under my toes and a warm, gentle breeze blows a strand of my hair across my face; he lifts his hand to brush it away. tucking it behind my ear he stares down at me and the sun hits his face at a perfect angle, illuminating his hazel eyes like pools of honey. he leans in and i-

“ow!” i yelp, as morgan launches the volleyball at my head, “what was that for?”  

“come and play,” he laughs, waving me over to where he stands with emily and hotch.

i shake my head, “no, i don’t feel like it,” i mumble, massaging my left temple where the ball bounced off my skull.

morgan rolls his eyes and jogs past where i’m sitting to collect the ball, “what’s up with you then?” he teases.

i shrug, “nothing. I’m just tired,” i say feigning an unconvincing yawn, “ask one of them to play.”  

i motion with my head towards spencer and jj, they’re down by the edge of the waves and she throws her head back and laughs at something he says. her sheets of blonde hair ripple through the wind and he looks at her in pure awe and amazement as she giggles at something he said.

“nah, don’t wanna interrupt the kid when he’s trying to make a move,” morgan shrugs, “come play with us, we need an extra person.”

an extra person.

right.

because what else am i but another body to fill the space?

“i don’t want to,” i say, forcing myself to tear my eyes away from jj and spencer as i stand up, “hotch said the jet is leaving first thing tomorrow, i’m gonna head back to the hotel and get some sleep.”

morgan says something, but i don’t register it as i allow myself one last glance at spencer and jj. she is trying to convince him to paddle in the waves with her, he shakes his head but when she takes his hand in hers i can tell he’s melting inside as he follows her into the water.

and i just know that he’d follow her so far out to sea that his head was underwater as long as she kept their hands intertwined.

i turn away from morgan so he doesn’t see the tears burning in my eyes.

and you can't get the taste off your tongue burnt sugar and a little bit of rum

we’re in a dimly lit bar somewhere.

hotch left hours ago, he wanted to take advantage of one of the rare nights he would be there to read jack a bedtime story.

rossi is at a table in the corner, sitting with a woman who has not-so-subtly draped her leg over him.

derek is out of my line of sight and i’m thankful for that.

emily, garcia, and jj are dancing.

i sit at the table with spencer, he’s drunk.

more tipsy than drunk i think, but he so rarely drinks anything that the sight of him swaying along to the music was an anomaly. i can’t ignore the fact that his eyes are firmly fixed on jj as she dances, and i grip my wine glass so tightly i half expect it to shatter in my hand.

he leans across to me and my heart skips a beat as i inhale the alcohol on his breath, “i’m in love with her, y’know,” he slurs.

“i know, spencer,” i smile sadly and down the rest of my wine.

he doesn’t even notice when i grab my coat from behind him and shuffle towards the door.

and she dances in the rain with her clothes on drenched to the bone never knows when she's all gone, she's the life of the party

spencer and i are watching the big bang theory.

neither of us particularly like it, but there aren’t many channels on our hotel room tv and spencer enjoys the physics references at least. i watch his face light up as a character mentions something about quantum theory that i cant understand, and spencer launches into a rant about the universe and the stars.

i don’t have the knowledge to keep up with him or the heart to tell him to stop so i sit and listen, admiring the way his eyes sparkle and his hands gesticulate when no one interrupts him with a deprecating comment.

we sit there like that for the rest of the night, in our respective twin beds with him telling me the secrets of the universe and me wondering how on earth i will ever get over him.

and deep down I know that nobody flinches when she takes off her clothes

“anything you like?” emily asks me through the dressing room curtain.

“i’m not sure…” i mumble in response, biting down on my lip as i stare at myself in the mirror, “i-i don’t think this is my colour.”

the dress looked so beautiful on the hanger, but now that it’s on my body the fabric bunches up in all the wrong places and i can’t recall a time that i’ve looked worse.

the lights are just washing you out, i tell myself.

you’re having a bad hair day, it would look better with your hair down, i tell myself.

you just need some lipstick, i tell myself.

but when jj announces she has found the perfect dress and i stick my head out of the curtain to see her, i am slapped in the face with the realisation that it isn’t the lighting or my lack of makeup it’s just me.

because jj looks beautiful as always, her dress hugs her waist and the skirt fans out around her as emily demands she gives us a spin. she isn’t wearing makeup, her hair is in a ponytail too, the lights don’t wash her out because she is radiant and flawless, and the lights aren’t the problem.

i am.

i cry in my car as i drive home from the mall, and when i get home i tear everything out of my fridge and fling it into the trashcan. i vow to go to the store and stock up on salad and chicken.

i go to the store but i don’t buy salad.

and I wonder what it's like to be one of those girls to sit in the sun and look at the world and never think, "wow, am i enough?" ‘cause life is easy when you know that you're the main character

i’m in hotch’s office as he grills me about a stupid mistake i made in the field. i can hardly focus on his words as i shrink back in the chair, counting all the reasons that i don’t deserve to be in this job.

i’m not as smart or fast or strong as the others. i don’t have an eidetic memory or hacker skills and i can’t even maintain myself as a solid average agent because i keep fucking up.

“i’m not going to write you up,” he says, and my heart soars a little in my chest, “but i need you to understand that if you do something like that again i won’t have any choice, you were lucky no one got hurt today.”

i nod silently and blink back the tears that threaten to spill over.

“go home, get some rest,” he says and i don’t hang around for a second longer, darting out of his office i crash headfirst into a tall frame.

“wow, slow down,” he chuckles, resting a hand on my shoulder to steady me.

“spencer,” i gasp, looking up at his sympathetic smile, “what are you still doing here? we landed hours ago….”

he shrugs, “i waited for you.”

my heart skips a beat.

“you didn’t have to do that.”

he shakes his head, “you’re my best friend, i wanted to. plus i thought you might need someone after being in there with hotch.”

i swallow and offer him a slightly forced smile.

best friend.

“thanks, spence, that means a lot.”

he looks at me quizzically.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing, just only jj calls me spence…anyways” he holds out his arm for me, “shall we go?”

i have to restrain myself from seizing his arm, and settle for tentatively wrapping my own around it, “thanks spencer…you’re such a good friend.”

he smiles down at me and its almost enough to melt away the icy feeling in my heart as i call him a friend. the coldness in my chest in my chest is a feeling i’ve grown accustomed to but when i’m with him everything is warm and bright again.

he feels like yellow.

and i feel like maybe i am enough.

and I'm sitting here thinking this is not fair

i feel like blue.

i’m alone in my apartment flicking through tv channels, trying to find something that isn’t a medical or crime drama. because after my day at work i can’t look at any more blood or dead bodies, even if its as fake as the pep in my voice when jj calls to ask if i’m okay.

“hotch grilled you pretty bad, huh? you sure you’re okay?”

“yeah, spence – spencer – waited for me and we went to get milkshakes after.”

“aww that’s so nice, you know i think he has a soft spot for you,” she teases.

something acidic bubbles in my throat, but i can’t tell her that i know she’s wrong because he spent half the night telling me how much he loves her. i have to gather the strength to respond without the venom in my heart poisoning my voice.

“oh, i don’t think so,” i laugh, “anyways, i should go – my movie is about to start.”

jj tells me to have a good night before she hangs up, and i switch off the tv. at this time there’s noting but romcoms and i don’t want to sit through hours of pining when its on replay every day at the office.

i watch my own reflection in the blank tv screen as sobs wrack my body.

but her smile makes it hard to be mad it's not her fault that I'm so fucking sad

jj holds me in her arms as i cry into her chest, “it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay,” she coos, rubbing soft circles on my back.

i sniffle against her and i just know that my eyes are puffy and red but i can’t switch off the floods of tears that fall from them.

“do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” she asks.

i shake my head against her because how could i tell her?

how could I tell her that the man i love is in love with her?

and that i want to resent her for it but i can’t because she’s such a good fucking friend that she’s sitting here with me, unknowingly wiping the tears that i can’t stop shedding because i can’t be her.

she gives me one of those heart warming smiles that could bring peace to a dying man, and in that moment i am reminded again of why he loves her. there are worse people to love, i suppose. if spencer is going to cut out his heart and give it to someone it might as well be someone like her.

but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

and i hate myself for the part of me that hates her. she’s done nothing wrong. it’s not her fault that that spencer loves her, and its not her fault that she doesn’t realise.

so I'll sit here and look at these girls in the sun dancing in the rain and just having their fun

i hate alaska.

my teeth chatter as we trudge through the snow filled field, and i pull the cuffs of my coat over my glove cladded hands. i hate the cold. i hate alaska. i hate the serial killer who dragged us all out here. i hate the impending snowstorm that was keeping the jet grounded for another night.

“should we even be out here?” i groan, “i mean if it’s not safe for the plane, then surely its not safe for us.”

“we aren’t 50,000 feet up in the sky though,” morgan says and i roll my eyes at him.

“it’s cold enough to make me feel like we are,” i huff.

spencer nods sympathetically at me, “i don’t like the cold either, not much snow in vegas.”

“i think we should have two behavioural analysis units,” i begin, “one to catch serial killers in cold climates, and the other in hot ones.”

he laughs, “i’d like that, but i think it’d just be us and garcia on the hot team.”

“we’d get by.”

he’s grinning at me, his messy brown curls are squashed down under his bobble hat but a few of them still manage to peak out. he’s wearing a multicoloured striped scarf and mismatched gloves.

a snowflake lands on his eyelash and i reach out to brush it off.

“thanks.”

“anytime.”

morgan launches a snowball at us, and it hits me in the back of the head, “hey! what is it with you and throwing things?” i snap.

morgan roars with laughter.

“not funny derek!”

he resumes his snowball fight with emily and jj and i draw my arms across my chest. i watch as they prance about in the snow, falling to avoid the snowballs launched by the others and laughing when they get hit. the sun is just starting to set, and it’s rays catch jj’s hair at the perfect angle, bouncing off the golden blonde strands as she dances around morgan. her and emily have joined forces to pelt him with snowballs.

i look up at spencer to see him starting at her in awe. his nose and cheeks are flushed from the cold, and the sun reflects against his own face, illuminating his eyes. they’re beautiful. like honey and glass.

“guys! come join us!” jj calls.

i shake my head, “there’s not enough money in the world.”

she pouts at me, “spence, please,” she says sweetly and before i know it he’s by her side and scooping up snow.

i watch from the side-lines.

spencer roars with laughter when emily hits morgan square in the face with a snowball, he wraps an arm around jj as she nearly collapses from laughter, something twinges in my stomach.

but he looks so happy, and that melts my glacier heart slightly.

maybe alaska wasn’t so bad after all.

and maybe one day, i can forget the past and be one of those girls of honey and glass

“nice to meet you, agent,” agent fitz says, holding out his hand, “we’ve heard good things about you up in the new york office.”

“really?” i say, shaking his hand and i can’t fight the smile that creeps across my face.

“really. give me a call if you ever fancy a change of scenery.”

“i’ll keep that in mind, agent fitz,” i give him a nod and a smile as he walks away.

new york was cold in the winter, but it didn’t seem like the worst place in the world.

but I think that it's hard for people to see that I love all these girls, and honestly it doesn't matter what you look like or how much you weigh

i wondered once how i’d ever get over my love for spencer reid, and now as he sits and sobs on my couch i realise that i don’t want to. it hurts me to love him, and something stabs my heart every time i catch him staring at her, but he deserves someone to love him like he loves her.

“i guess i’m just starting to realise that she’ll never love me back, and i don’t know why or what’s wrong with me,” he says and looks up at me, his eyes filled with tears and his face blotchy and red.

“there’s nothing wrong with you,” i say, wrapping an arm around him and wiping his tears, “sometimes the people you love just don’t love you back, but that’s not a reflection of you or your self-worth,” i reiterate to him the mantra i say in my mirror every morning.

he whimpers and my heart breaks for him.

“it doesn’t feel that way, it feels like i’m dying inside every time she talks about him or tells me about their dates, and i try to be a good friend but-”

his voice cracks and another sob escapes his chest and i tighten my grip around him; heartbreak doesn’t seem to get easier with age, because here we are, two fbi agents in our late twenties crying over our crushes like we are in junior high.

because before i know it the tears are flowing down my face faster than his and when he breaks away from our embrace to ask me why i’m crying, i can’t tell him it’s because i am feeling everything he is.

“i just don’t like seeing you like this,” is all i can muster up.

it's just that these girls know they're okay there's a beauty in knowing your place in the world in loving yourself and knowing your worth

“hey!” spencer greets me as he steps into the elevator with me.

“hi,” i mumble back, taking another sip of coffee from my travel cup.

we’ve been called in on a case, but i’ve barely had any sleep and i’m struggling to keep my eyes open.

“you look tired, are you okay?”

you look tired.

so the bags under my eyes were obvious then.

“yeah,” i say, swallowing the lump in my throat, “just a late night, y’know.”

“oh…oh! is that your way of saying your date went well?” he says with a coy grin.

“what?”

oh! something clicks in my brain and i understand what he means.

“no! not like that no…actually it didn’t go well at all, he turned out to be a total misogynistic creep,” i say with a bitter laugh.

“oh, i’m sorry….”

i shrug and take another swig of coffee, “it’s okay, you didn’t know. to be honest i’ll probably end up calling him again anyways.”

spencer stares at me, confused, “why would you do that?”

“well, i don’t exactly have guys falling over themselves for me, do i?”

spencer frowns and i can see his brain working overtime behind his eyes, “so you’re just going to settle for less than you deserve?”

“i don’t have many other options do i?”

he reaches out an arm to place a comforting hand on my shoulder, “don’t worry, you’ll find the right guy for you soon. it’s only a matter of time, you’re worth more than a misogynistic creep,” he squeezes my shoulder and before i know it we’ve already reached our floor and he’s gone.

you’ll meet the right guy for you soon.

what if i already have?

you don't have to be perfect or never get sad that's not what it means to be honey and glass

it’s late and i sit at my desk, sorting through piles of paperwork.

my eyes blur as i enter the gruesome details of our latest case, from fatigue or tears i can’t tell. i think emily and hotch are still hanging around the office somewhere, but the others had gone to dinner as soon as we landed, promising that they would do their paperwork tomorrow.

i knew i would have no appetite sitting across a table from spencer and jj so i had sat silently in the back of the suv as hotch drove us back to the office.

a singular tear rolls down my cheek and splatters on my page, smudging the not-quite-dry-yet ink. i let out a shaky breath and wipe my eyes, i don’t know why i’m crying really.

no one had necessarily done anything wrong. only when we were in the field and the unsub had detonated the bomb, spencer chose to push jj out of the way instead of me. i was lucky that one of the s.w.a.t agents had grabbed my arm in time and pulled me back to safety.

it had been hours and my ears were still ringing from the explosion.

maybe spencer thought he was closer to jj, that he had a better chance of saving her, we are trained to make difficult choices based on survival odds, i told myself.

only spencer hadn’t been closer to jj, and she was surrounded by three s.w.a.t agents whilst i only had one next to me. but no one had really done anything wrong, no one died, no one even broke a bone. and it pains me to admit to myself but had i been in spencer’s position and had to chose between saving him or morgan, i know that would pull spencer out of the way every single time.

i jump as emily creeps up behind me, “hey, you okay?”

i don’t even try and disguise my puffy, red eyes or tear tracks as i look up at her, “no. but i think that’s okay.”

and everyone has their highs and their lows the nights you spend crying, believe me, I know

it’s roslyn’s birthday.

i don’t think anyone else in the team knows because they keep exchanging looks whenever jj snaps at one of them and i can see the annoyance in their eyes.

when jj barks at spencer and snaps her pencil within the space of five minutes i drag her into a storage closet and wrap my arms around her.

“shhh,” i say soothingly, “it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.”

jj shakes her head, “i don’t think so, i thought this day would get easier with time but it’s just getting worse,” she sniffles.

i stroke her hair, “i know, i know its horrible and you deserve to cry as much as you want to. but you are so strong, and i know you can get through this-”

“i’m not,” jj shakes her head, “i’m not strong or brave or anything that you all think i am, i’m not like you I-”

“like me?” i question.

“you always hold yourself together, whenever there’s a case with a kid i’m falling to pieces but you keep it together. i mean i’m the one crying in a storage closet….”

i stare at her in disbelief, because jj is the strongest woman i know and i don’t understand how she can’t see that.

“i don’t have a sister who killed herself jj,” i say slowly, “you have survived 100% of the bad things that have happened to you because you’re a fighter, that makes you strong.”

she shakes her head and clings to me, “but i’ve lost pieces of myself, i’m not the same person i could’ve been if life had been kinder to me and that makes me sad. my sister is dead and that makes me sad, everyone thinks i’m this strong and perfect person and that makes me feel guilty because i can’t be that person.”

in a turn of events, she is crying into my chest, her hair is greasy, and her mascara runs and i realise that my best friend was never truly on the pedestal i placed her on. and i realise i am part of the problem, treating jj like she is the be all and all of perfection and unattainablity when i should just be treating her like a friend.

spencer loves her and that kills me but it’s not what’s important right now. i’ve spent too long inside my own head, struggling to view her as my best friend or the other woman but now i see that she is someone that needs my help.

i know what it’s like to cry myself to sleep so i don’t want jj to go through something like that alone. so i vow there and then, to push my own feelings aside and be whatever she needs me to be.

i don't want to be these girls for beauty or fame but for the confidence they have in their own damn name

“smile!” garcia says as she appears with a camera.

emily, jj, and morgan turn to face her and pose but i duck out of the frame. garcia pouts and morgan grabs onto my forearm to pull me back into shot. i wish that i had the self-confidence to let him, to fall in next to him and make a silly pose at the camera and not worry if my hair was sitting nicely or if i was breathing in enough.

“come on! i need pictures for my scrapbook and you’ve been dodging me all night!” she whines.

i stare down at my feet, “garcia i’m not photoshoot ready like these guys,” i say, trying to make my voice light and floaty but it just sounds like im choking back tears.

“come on, just one picture,” jj says kindly, waving for me to come and stand next to her.

i shake my head again and wring my hands. the last thing i need is another photograph of jj and i to compare myself to every time i’m feeling extra low and self-destructive.

i try and remember the vow i made, to be there for my friend despite my own feelings. but she isn’t sad anymore, she’s happy and smiling and drinking wine, me squeezing in between her and emily for a stupid photograph isn’t going to make or break her.

it’s just a stupid photograph.

“no thanks,” i choke, “i’m going to get another drink,” i scurry away to the kitchen before anyone can object.

i shut the door quickly behind me and press my back up against it, taking a deep breath. i can’t quite believe i was successful in escaping garcia again.

“are you avoid garcia and her camera too?”

“spencer!” i laugh shrilly, “i didn’t even see you there.”

“yeah, i’ve been hiding in here for a half hour,” he smiles sadly, “i hate having my picture taken, especially next to morgan. he makes me look even lankier if possible.”

i frown, spencer had no reason to feel insecure.

“why don’t we get garcia to take a picture of just us two?” i suggest nervously, “you won’t have any reason to feel insecure next to me….”

he looks at me quizzically, “what do you mean?”

i wring my hands again, “just that you’ll automatically look even better if i’m next to you…cos’ i’m…well y’know,” i say awkwardly motioning to my face and body.

he cocks his head to the side, “are you trying to tell me you think you’re ugly, so i’ll look better by comparison?”

i shrug.

“well, i think you look beautiful.”

so I'll sit here and look at these girls in the sun dancing in the rain and just having their fun

we’re on the plane journey home.

spencer and jj sit next to each other, their arms pressed together as they share the arm rest. spencer is reading a book; his eyes scan down the pages at lightening speed and i know he’ll be finished soon.

i am on the opposite side of the plane, i sit by myself, i like the space.

i keep my eye on them throughout the flight; just as i predicted, it doesn’t take long for spencer to finish his book and he places it down on the table in front of him. jj picks it up and teases him for the long-winded title, i don’t catch what she says, something about astrophysics.

he starts to ramble, and she interrupts him with another teasing remark, he flushes when she gently nudges his chest. i turn my head to stare out of the window, biting my lip.

they aren’t even doing anything, jj is just being friendly. and i still can’t handle it. i lie my head back against the headrest as i gaze out of the window, admiring the new york skyline as it fades into the distance.

a nervous chuckle from spencer snaps me out of my trance, and i look back over to see him and jj giggling secretively as she whispers something into his ear.

 “where are you going?” emily grumbles, she’s half asleep with her legs splayed out across two chairs when i accidently bump her foot.

 “bathroom,” i say quietly with a forced smile as i shuffle past jj and spencer, my heart seizing in my chest as she teases him about how long his hair is getting, brushing her hand through the curls.

i’m already silently sobbing in the bathroom so i miss the pitiful look that emily and morgan exchange.

and I know it doesn't make sense to forget the past but I promise, one day, you'll be honey and glass

“agent fitz?” i say, clutching my phone tight in my hand.

“ahh, i’ve been wondering when i’d be hearing from you.”

i laugh quietly, “yes, well i’ve been thinking about what you said, and i think i could do with that change of scenery now.”

i wrote this in a couple hours and didnt proof read so apologies for an errors :))

part 2

[matthewtkachuk]

how to be a heartbreaker: rule three - rafe cameron

Rafe Cameron’s privileged upbringing has let him get away with far too much, for far too long. Between his tormenting of the pogues, running his mouth without consequence, and arrogant attitude, it’s time someone knocked him down a peg. Breaking his bones didn’t work, but maybe you can break his heart.

co-authored with my love, freya @rekrappeter

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader, unrequited!JJ x reader

warnings: angst, starting a relationship under false pretences, drinking and drug use, implied smut hehe

word count: 4.4k 

a/n: this one is my personal fave hehe, you’ll see what i mean when you get to the end. please please please leave us feedback, freya and i read every comment and cry hehe

“And if that doesn’t work?” you questioned, eyes solely on JJ. He moved from standing next to the chalkboard to flaking on the couch beside you. He had an arm resting on the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing your shoulder. He had just gone through rule number two and you were starting to think that there was no way this could work. It sounded too cliche, too romcom teen movie.

JJ sighed, sitting up slightly, “It’s going to work, trust me.”

“Trust you?” Pope asked, “You haven’t even thought this plan through.”

“We actually spent hours going through these rules,” John B pouted.

“Any time JJ spent trying to find a word to rhyme with attached doesn’t count,” Kie quipped.

“Listen, babe,” JJ turned his body to you, your legs brushing as you looked at him nervously, “You trust me, don’t you.” 

Despite the inner voice in your head that sounded suspiciously like Pope telling you otherwise, you did. “I do,” you told him softly. 

He grinned, sharp canine teeth on display, “Once you’ve got his attention, you have to take it a step further.”

Your brows furrowed, a step further? Ever your protector, Pope piped up, “What do you mean a step further, JJ?”

“You know,” he trailed off dramatically, “You have to look him in the eyes and plant one on him.” 

Sighing in relief that was what he meant by a step further, before freezing and stuttering out, “y-you want me to kiss him?” You gagged a little at the thought of putting your lips on Rafe’s. How did JJ expect you to kiss Rafe Cameron, your friends’ biggest bully without immediately vomiting after.

“That’s disgusting, JJ!” Kie called out, arms crossed over her chest, “You can’t seriously be asking y/n to kiss him.”

“If there’s no action, this will be a very short plan, it won’t work without the kiss.” 

You glanced around the room at the prying eyes, waiting for your answer. You thought back to your previous late night adventures, some more questionable than others, and if you were comparing them to Rafe, looks wise, you concluded that you were getting somewhat of an upgrade. “I-I guess,” you replied hesitantly, wondering if it was too late to back out, but JJ’s brilliant grin at your words kept you silent. He clapped his hands together in excitement, muttering a quick ‘perfect!’ before continuing.

“Rule number three: leave them at the door, wanting more”

There was tension in the air as you lounged around John B’s living room. You were glaring at JJ, Kie was glaring at the new addition of Sarah Cameron, and Pope was glaring at the scholarship application brochure in his hand.

You, of course, were still pissed at JJ for his outburst at the club the other day. You didn’t understand why he was so mad at you when all you were doing was furthering his stupid little plan. Briefly, you allowed your mind to wonder if part of his frustration was related to jealousy, but you quickly killed that thought. You had loved JJ your entire life, and you were sure he had some inkling of that fact. Not to mention he was so transparent he was almost see through, unable to keep a secret if you paid him a million dollars. If he had any feelings toward you, you would have already known. 

The tension between Sarah and Kie was a little more hostile and you knew you didn’t have the whole story. It was something to do with Kie’s kook year, you knew that. You also knew there was something about a birthday party Kie had to find out about on instagram and something about the cops being called. It wasn’t really your business, and honestly their issues kind of overshadowed yours and JJs, which you were grateful for because you didn’t need the pogues sticking their noses in your business. Especially Pope, he would have a lot to say if he knew you and JJ were arguing because of your antics with Rafe.

Pope’s tension made the least sense. He was the smartest guy you knew, and if any one of you was going to get off the island, it was Pope through the scholarship he was currently glaring at. 

Wanting to break up the awkward tension, you were never one for awkward silences, you opened your mouth without a clear idea of what you were going to say when the silence was broken by Sarah first. 

“So, y/n...” you looked over at her in shock. Honestly, you weren’t even sure she knew your name despite having been clinging to John B for the past few days like a koala on a tree.

“Sarah...” you replied back in the same tone, dragging the last syllable of her name out. You weren’t entirely fond of having her here either, but you weren’t going to be as hostile as Kie.

“I didn’t know you were such good friends with Rafe,” she spoke and you almost choked on your own spit. 

“I- what? We’re- we’re not,” you stumbled through your words, confused at the sudden interrogation.

“Well he wants to know if he can have your number,” she shrugged a shoulder at you, trying, and failing, to look disinterested.

“Hell yes!” JJ shouted, clearly forgetting that the plan was supposed to stay between the five of you.

“Shut up, JJ” you glared at him, still having not entirely forgiven him yet. “Sure, Sarah, that would be okay.”

“Why the sudden interest in my brother?” Sarah asked suspiciously, despite her own issues with him, he was still her brother after all.

Suddenly in a panic, you struggled to come up with a good enough reason, so you blurted the first thing that came to mind - “I dunno, I'm bored and he’s hot.” Pope definitely choked on his own spit, and JJ shot you a funny look, his brows furrowing together. 

“You think he’s hot?” You weren’t sure if JJ was just playing along for the sake of Sarah or if he really was annoyed that you found Rafe attractive. 

“Well, yeah,” you replied, unsure of how to defend yourself, “He might be kind of an asshole, but any girl with eyes can see he’s attractive. Kie back me up here.” Kie gave you a look that read ‘what the hell’ and shook her head. Rolling your eyes, you just sighed and shrugged. “Are we going to watch a movie or not? I brought maltesers.”

Settling deeper into the couch, you grabbed the throw blanket that had ended up on the ground and covered your cold legs with it as John B messed around with the tv. You groaned when some cheesy action flick appeared on the screen, turning your head to glare at John B, “I thought we were going to watch Disney?” 

“You were outvoted,” he shrugged and sat beside Sarah, throwing his arm around her. You rolled your eyes at him, ripping open the bag of chocolates and tossing a couple in your mouth. You rolled your eyes for a second time when JJ’s hand stretched out his hand between the two of you on the couch. 

“Get your own maltesers,” you told him with a glare, holding the bag a little closer to your chest. 

The movie passed by without much excitement on your behalf, b-level action movies weren’t really your thing and you thought you were about to watch Tangled or something. You noticed JJ wasn’t really paying attention to the movie either, he looked like he was deep in thought for once in his life. Annoyingly, he kept turning his head to look at you, that same unreadable expression on his face. You decided if he did it one more time you were going to kick him, but the next time he turned to look at you, he scooted over until there was no space between your bodies.

“Do you really think he’s hot?” JJ whispered, his breathing tickling your ear.

“Who? Shia Labeouf?” You asked, eying the actor on the tv screen. 

“What? No I don’t care if you think Shia La-whoever is hot.” JJ replied tensely. His tone caused you to look at him again.

“Well, who do you care if I think they’re hot?”

“Obviously Rafe, stupid.” He snapped back. You couldn’t understand what he was so bothered for.

“Don’t call me stupid, and whoever I think is hot is really my business anyway, not yours.” You were starting to get annoyed again.

“Thinking Rafe Cameron is hot is stupid, y/n. He’s the enemy!” He whispered harshly back at you. Your eyes flickered toward Sarah to make sure she hadn’t heard him. “Maybe Kie would have been better at this plan.”

Your jaw dropped, and before you could think better of it you punched him in the arm as hard as you can, a satisfied smile gracing your features when he whined. “Stop being a dick, you’re supposed to be my best friend.”

“As your best friend, I’m just looking out for you,” he grumbled, rubbing his arm where you hit him.

“I’m a big girl, J, I can take care of myself.” You replied.

“Can you two lovebirds stop arguing?” John B called from across the living room, earning a distasteful glare from JJ.

Your stomach dropped at the disgust you thought you saw in JJ’s eyes, but you were saved from any self-deprecating thoughts by your phone buzzing in your pocket.

unknown number: hey

unknown number: shit sorry this is rafe, sarah gave me your number

“Well that didn’t take long,” you whispered to JJ, pretending like your earlier conversation didn’t exist. You shoved your phone in his face, smiling a little when he grabbed your wrist to pull back your phone so that he could read.

“You’ve got him right where we want him,” he replied back, not nearly as excited as you thought he would be.

“Do you still want to continue with this?” You asked softly, hoping he would call the whole thing off because you didn’t think you had the courage to tell him you weren’t sure you could do it.

“Of course, I didn’t waste my entire Sunday coming up with the rules for nothing,” he replies back, with a bit more life to him. 

Looking at him warily, your thumbs hesitated over the keyboard of your phone, you didn’t know how to respond, should you go with flirty? Disinterested? Sighing you eventually just gave up and replied simply:

you: hey

rafe cameron: are you busy later?

Scrunching your nose up at the text, you wondered if this was his lame attempt at a booty call or something.

you: depends what time

rafe cameron: i’ll pick you up at 7, text me your address

You weren’t sure if you should show JJ the message, it’s not that you were thinking about hiding it from him, you just didn’t want him to go off on you again. When JJ’s upset with you, it’s truly exhausting. That thought reminds you of how angry he was last time when you didn’t ‘keep him in the loop’ or whatever, so you turn your phone to him again. You nibbled on your bottom lip, watching his eyes read the message. His stare flickered to your face, vague of any emotion. 

“It’s six now, you better go,” he whispered to you, not wanting to let the others hear him. 

“But we’re watching the movie,” your brows furrowed close together. 

“Rafe Cameron wants to take you on a date, I wouldn’t keep him waiting,” when the words left JJ’s mouth, he turned his focus back to the small television in John B’s living room and that was the end of the conversation. Sighing, you resisted the urge to roll your eyes to heaven, and stood up from the couch, allowing the blanket to fall from your knees to the floor, earning the attention of Kie.

“Where ya going?” she hissed, wrapping her fingers around your wrist. 

“I have a hot date,” you stuck your tongue out, climbing over Pope’s legs that were spread across the floor. You ignored your friends’ questions, knowing JJ would fill them in once Sarah left the room, you didn’t want to disclose in front of her that you were going on a date with her brother, with the aim of breaking his heart. 

Standing in front of your closet, it occurred to you that you didn’t know what to wear on a date with a kook. For some reason, you didn’t think ripped cut-off jean shorts and an off-the-shoulder crop top would be the most appropriate. Sighing you wondered why you were so concerned at all, it’s not like this was an actual date with a guy you were actually interested in. Rafe Cameron’s good qualities started and ended with his appearance. Finally deciding on a simple sundress, you figured you wouldn’t look too out of place wherever he ended up taking you. You took the time to braid your hair and throw on a little makeup, not wanting to look like you tried too hard.

You had finished getting ready right about the time your phone buzzed with a text from Rafe letting you know he was there. Shaking the nerves off, you quickly answered the door, feeling more than a little subconscious as his eyes took in the modest state of your home. You weren’t the poorest of the poor in the cut, but you knew your entryway couldn’t even possibly begin to compare to that of Tannyhill. 

“Hey,” you said simply, twisting your wrists nervously as his critical glare fell on you, eyes slowly roaming your figure up and down.

“Hey,” he parroted back, moving to follow you as you led him out the front door and locked it behind you. 

“So, where are we going tonight?” you hummed, stepping down off your porch and following Rafe to his truck. “Let me guess, some fancy expensive restaurant on the coast.”

Rafe looked over his shoulder at you, a smirk resting on his lips, “You’re not that lucky” he teased, absentmindedly reaching back to clasp your hands together. He’s been longing to touch you since he last saw you, and the electricity from your touch sent him soaring. 

Your heart beat a little bit faster in your chest, unwelcome thoughts betraying you again as his larger hand engulfed yours. Biting your lip, you let him lead you to the truck before he opened the door for you and helped you make the step up inside. You took a moment to collect your thoughts, eyes scanning the few belongings inside. There was gum in one of the cupholders, a blue iphone cord attached to the media center. You caught a glimpse of a photograph tucked into the sunvisor of the driver side and wondered briefly who would be contained within it. 

As he entered the other side of the truck, it occurred to you that the interior smelled like him, a distinct mix of laundry detergent and something you could only describe as soothing. As he started the truck, his last spotify playlist started to play and you smiled a little bit at his eclectic taste in music.

“You gonna rip on me for my playlist?” he asked, a ghost of a smile on his face as he took in your reaction. 

You mimed zipping your lips, “my lips are sealed.” He chuckled, throwing the truck into reverse and driving off. You sat in silence for a while before it began to feel awkward, “So if we’re not going to some fancy restaurant, where are you taking me? McDonalds?”

He laughed out loud this time, “Do I look like the kind of guy that takes a girl on a first date to McDonalds?” 

You pretended to think before shrugging, “I dunno, I don’t know what you’re into.” 

“You could find out,” he smirked at you and you were grateful his attention was on the road rather than your facial expression as it took you a solid five seconds to recover from his remark. Willing the intrusive thoughts away again, you had to keep reminding yourself that you were talking to Rafe Cameron, public enemy numero uno, and you were on a mission to break his heart. 

“You’re not gonna tell me, are you?” You asked, ignoring his remark. 

He shook his head and replied, “nope,” lips making a popping sound as he enunciated the ‘p’. You just huffed and sat back in your seat arms crossed. Looking out the window, you didn’t like surprises ordinarily, and you especially didn’t think you’d enjoy a surprise from Rafe. You were half certain he was going to kill you and dump your body in the woods somewhere.

Rafe took the opportunity to look at you as you pouted slightly, eyes focused on the blurring landscape out the passenger side window. He couldn’t explain why he was suddenly so drawn to you, sure he’d always thought you were attractive, and he loved to use you to get under Maybank’s skin, but he’d never thought about you the way he was now. Truthfully he always thought you and JJ had some sort of thing going on, that was why he had picked at that thread so often when it came to the pogues. And now, you were in his truck and going on a date with him. You, a pogue. He almost thought it was too easy to get you to agree to go out with him, wondered if it was some kind of trick, but he didn’t think you were the type of person to do that.

It didn’t take much longer to arrive at your destination, and you were confused when you stopped in some random field, Rafe having backed his truck up to where a sheet was pinned between two trees. 

“What? What’s going on here?” You asked him confusedly, a little worried that he was actually planning on murdering you, and was going to roll your body up in the sheet or something. 

He just chuckled at your expression, telling you to ‘stay put’, and you watched as he went to the back and rolled up the truck bed cover. You tried to crane your neck to see whether he was grabbing his murder toolkit, but you couldn’t quite see from your position. You waited another few seconds, seeing only his face and broad shoulders in the rearview mirror as he moved things about in the back of the truck. Finally, he appeared on the other side of your door and opened it for you, offering you a hand and helping you out.

As he led you to the back, you gasped seeing the back of the truck outfitted with what looked to be a very soft comforter and a few fluffy pillows. At one end of the truck bed sat a yeti cooler, filled with what looked like pop and snacks. It was then that you also spotted the mini projector and your mind put two and two together, realizing Rafe had put together a little drive in movie for just the two of you.

“Did you do all this for me?” You asked softly, brain trying and failing to reconcile the Rafe who would put this all together with the Rafe who had literally just beat your friends to a pulp and spoke about you so vulgarly.

“Well I actually did it for another girl, but she cancelled and you were next on my list,” he sassed back, causing a small smile to cross your face. This time you didn’t have to pull on some happy memory in order to fake it, the smile happened all on its own. “C’mon I’ll help you up,” he offered you his arm.

“Don’t you dare look up my dress,” you warned him, taking his arm and allowing him to help you up into the bed of his truck. His other hand lingered on your waist as he assisted you. You situated yourself against the pillows, watching him dig around in the cooler before tossing you a pop and a bag of maltesers. Your grin widened at the sight of the red bag, before you looked back at him asking, “how did you know maltesers was my movie snack?”

“A little bird,” he shrugged, and you realized it had to have been Sarah. The thought gave you a little guilt as you remembered her suspicious gaze and realized she was right to be suspicious of you. 

Settling in beside you with his own pop and snack, he sat close enough that you could almost feel his warmth, but not close enough to actually touch you. After he pressed a couple of buttons on his phone, the familiar beginning of the Little Mermaid began to project on the screen 

You couldn't believe that Sarah had remembered your argument with the pogues over which Disney movie was the best, and even more than that you couldn't believe that Rafe had asked her about it. You just blinked stupidly at him, and he responded with a small smile at your dumbfounded look.

As the movie played, you found yourself shifting closer until you were resting against his side, your head on his shoulder. He didn’t make a single move the entire movie, his arm just awkwardly laying there, and you had to admit you were surprised. Based on the way he acted and the way he spoke, you had assumed he would have been pushing the limits throughout the entire movie, but he had been nothing but respectful. Again you were feeling uncertain about whether you could actually go through with this plan, but a different pair of blue eyes, those belonging to your best friend, appeared in your mind and you remembered how they had looked with one swollen almost shut.

Deciding to up the charm a little, you poked him and whispered, “you can put your arm around me, I won’t bite... unless you ask me too.” His laugh was slightly strangled as he shifted his arm to wrap comfortably around his shoulders.

During the scene where Ariel and Eric are on the boat as Sebastian and the other sea creatures serenade the two of them to the tune of “Kiss the Girl” you noticed Rafe out of your peripheral vision watching your reaction and occasionally dropping his gaze to your lips. Feeling a surge of confidence, you lifted your head from his shoulder and pressed your lips to his briefly. It felt like nothing ever had before, electric and sweet. As you pulled away, you witnessed his eyes remain shut and, smirking softly to yourself, you laid your head back down against his shoulder.

After the movie was over, he helped you get down and drove you back home before walking you to your door. “I had a good time tonight,” you said shyly, looking up at Rafe through your eyelashes. His taller figure engulfed your own as he grabbed your waist and pressed your lips together as you had done during the movie. Lost in the kiss, you wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning up on the tips of your toes to deepen it. His body pressed you into your own front door as he began to trail kisses down towards your neck, nudging your jaw with his nose to push your head to the side and allow him to suck a bruising mark on the juncture of your shoulder. 

Who were you and what were you doing right now? That was Rafe Cameron pressing you into the door and claiming your lips with his. You hated him so much, didn’t you? But your body was betraying you, leaning into his hot touch and kiss. 

Gasping, you pushed him away from you, the physical distance allowing your clouded thoughts to part and reason to break through. Breathing heavily and heart racing in your chest, you briefly pressed a kiss to his cheek and whispered, “goodnight,” before slipping into your house and pressing your back against the door. Thirty seconds passed and you realized enemy status be damned, you were attracted to Rafe Cameron and you didn’t want the night to end yet.

Throwing open the door, prepared to chase after him, you were surprised to find him leaning against your door frame, body weight held up by his thick arm. Smirking cockily at you for a moment, you just stood there and stared.

“I-”. Before you were able to get a word out, he was wrapping an arm around your waist and pushing you into your house. You let him lead you in, pressing you against the door to shut it behind you, and kissing you with a passion you hadn’t felt before. You made out like this for a few minutes, bodies pressed flush together, tongues exploring each other's mouths before you lightly shoved him and pushed yourself off the door. 

Reconnecting your lips again, you let your hands wander his body, stopping to squeeze his ass the way you had been day dreaming of that day on the golf course. Chuckling a little into the kiss, he responded by squeezing your left breast before trailing his hand down to grip your waist. You began to walk backwards, leading him to your room without ever breaking the kiss.

You squealed as he tossed you onto your own bed, before his warm body covered your own on top of the comforter. His arm wrapped around your back, lifting your body forward so that your head fell back against your pillows. Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him down for another passionate kiss. His hand gripped the bottom of your sundress, slowly pushing the material up your body and caressing the skin he revealed beneath. Your own hands made quick work of the buttons on his button down before sliding under the material to push it off his chest. 

You weren’t thinking of the plan, or the implications of your actions, or even the reactions of your best friends as you let him rid you of your clothes, hands and mouth touching and tasting you everywhere. You didn’t think of the look that would inevitably cross JJ’s face as Rafe entered you slowly, groaning lowly above you at the sensation. You didn’t even think about how this was probably just Rafe’s endgame to his earlier flirtations - an attempt to bed you and he was successful. No, instead you spent the night thinking about how good Rafe Cameron was making you feel, damn everything else.

Tag list: htbah taglist (link to add yourself to the google form in the series masterlist!): @solllaris @drewswannabegirl @starrystarkey93 @httpstarkey @sweetlysilent @drewstarkey @dontjinx-it @ultranikilove @spencereidbasis @meaganjm @starlightstarkey @thortheestallion @jiaraendgame @idocarealot @tempestuousjj @pink-meringues @dpaccione @arianabrashierstuff @softstarkey @loveylangdon @xenagzb @teenwaywardasgardian @prejudic3 @nxsmss @canibeoneofthepogues @outerbanksbro @obx-direction-sos @nqbmf @digniteas @annedub @colorful-queen-of-the-roses @yesp0ny @loveniallandharryonedirection @fantasticpsychicfanfish @girls-breaking-hearts @beautyandthebleh @casper17 @mozz-are-lla @parkershoco @unfortunatekiwitrash @loverofmineluke @slutforjjmaybank @skiesofthesketchy @httpstarkey @sugarcoatedcalum @amorisxx @trinnwazheree @stargazingstarkey @obx-saltlife @juliarose21​ @hyperactive2411​ @sophiesshitshow @mcarignan​ @pizzapizza-Kira

rodeo rafe babies who said they were interested:

@royalmerchant​ @outerbankslut​ @honeyycheek​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @ilovejjmaybank​ @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless​ @girlsru1eboysdroo1​ @https-luna​ @butgilinsky​ @rae131415​

diverdcwn everything taglist:

@velyssaraptor​ @danicarosaline​ @copper-boom​ @x-lulu​ @prejudic3​ @downbytheouterbanks​ @ilovejjmaybank​ @bricksatanakinswindow​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @sunwardsss​ @rudyypankow​ @im-a-stranger-thing​ @alexa-playafricabytoto​ @maybankfullkook​ @sortagaysortahigh​ @socialwriter​ @bluesiderudy​ @anxietyandtacos​ @diverrdown​ @stargazingstarkey​

(if the tags dont work again im deactivating)

[killuaisaprincess]

Mi Amor

Gon isn't surprised to be woken by a blood-curdling scream. He isn't, but when amber eyes snap open, his sternum aches with how choked out it sounds. The way the scream lingers in the air, pained, so desperate. It cuts right through his muscle and skin and smashes through bone, making him jump out of the bed, instincts taking over.

He shouldn't have let Killua convince him they should sleep in different rooms. Sure, outright confronting him wouldn't have worked. Killua had been especially cagey all day... but Gon could've used something, anything... three different rooms would be too expensive. Then again, Killua had already accounted for that, and Alluka ended up in the same room with Gon, Killua a separate one. Gon should've pushed harder. Killua had been distant and weirder than normal... his smiles clearly fake for Alluka's sake.

His heart is pounding so loudly in his ears, fear, and rage trickling down in pools of sweat, hands clenched in fists of iron, veins popping. He was terrified someone was actually hurting Killua... with how he sounded... even though Gon knows Killua is more than capable of taking care of himself, in his sleep even...

Gon doesn't waste time. His adrenaline is spiked with fear; he punches a hole straight through the wall to Killua's room. It probably wakes everyone in the little motel up, including Alluka, but Gon doesn't care.

"Killua!"

Gon steps over debris from his newly created door, panic rising in his chest. His best friend was slumped over in a heap on his bed, legs entangled in a sheet, and slim digits grasping at his thin tank top as he gasps for air.

Gon pads across the room, trying to temper how loud his footsteps are as he rushes over, dipping a knee into the creaky bed, before settling down. He's slow with his movements, despite how much he wants to grab Killua and pull him into a bone-crushing hug. He tentatively brushes his fingertips against Killua's shoulders, lifting him up in hopes that'll help him breathe easier, ever so gently looking into those scared, broken eyes.

Those giant blue eyes blown wide open in fear, tears pooling at the corners, making Gon swallow his rage. To kill whoever hurt Killua this much a thousand times. Seeing that fragile look, feeling Killua shake under his light grip, and hearing his mumbles is enough to make Gon's heart split clean in two.

"No... no, please... I'm sorry... I'll be the perfect assassin... no more... please. It hurts. No more... please... I don't want to. I don't want to. I'm scared. I'm scared."

Like a mantra over and over, every word is another knife plunged and twisted into Gon's chest, making it hard to breathe. Killua... knowing Killua was in so much worse pain, had been in so much worse pain...

How.

Dare.

They.

He has to bite back every urge to tighten his grip.

Gon's hands are strong, strong, and rough; they have been since he was little, running around Whale Island, climbing trees, and befriending animals much larger than him. He makes sure to be as gentle as possible with every touch. Tugging his fingers up to brush some of Killua's sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes, the pad of his thumb pressing under Killua's cheek. Softly, tenderly wiping away some of those tears. There's a flicker of recognition in Killua's eyes, one that makes Gon's heart soar. He presses Killua flush to his chest, fingers draping across the younger's thin waist, protectively. Every touch is strong, but not in the way Killua is used to. Not strength that would restrain him and hurt him. Strength that would protect him, gentle, profound strength.

Gon rubs light circles against Killua's back through the soaked fabric of his over-shirt. Killua doesn't say anything, but Gon listens carefully, full of intent to every breath Killua takes. The heavy gasps like he's being plunged underwater, choked with sobs, slowly start to calm down. If it didn't get better Gon would have used the techniques he asked Leorio about.

Killua seems so tiny in his arms, pressing his face into his chest like this and sobbing. Despite the fact that they are relatively the same size, he seems impossibly small and fragile, and Gon tugs Killua closer, squeezing his eyes in pain, burying his nose in Killua's hair.

It hurts more than anything that he can't do anything more for his best friend; Gon wishes more than anything he could go back in time, go back and time and save Killua. A small broken child, crying on the cold dark floor, bleeding out. They are fifteen now, but whatever small time they have left of a 'childhood,' Gon won't let Killua suffer anymore... he won't be selfish this time.

"It's okay. I've got Killua... I won't let anything happen to him. I'll protect him, I promise. I've got Killua..."

His own mantra repeated over and over. He wouldn't let anyone lay a hand on Killua.

Killua's sobs eventually reside to a stop, only a few sniffles. Gon's heart still feels heavy, but when Killua shifts under him and Gon pulls away, offering Killua the biggest brightest smile he can.

The ashamed look on Killua's face as he rubs the heel of his palm under red puffy eyes makes Gon's heart break again.

"Kil-"

"I'm fine."

Killua snaps, voice hoarse, eyebrows pinched together, tears slowly welling up in his bloodshot eyes, and Gon can't take it. That pretty face being scrunched up in pain. The kind, gentle soul he loves more than anything distraught. When a sob tears from his lips, that's all Gon can take.

Gon tugs Killua right back, ignoring how he squirms, even weakly hits Gon in the chest. He shushes Killua will all the love he can, running featherlight touches against his spine. Killua shivers under him, and Gon's shirt is a mess of snot and tears by now, and Gon doesn't care. He just mummers soft reassurances to Killua. Over and over.

"It's okay. I've got Killua... it's okay, my love, it's okay."

Killua stiffens, and Gon freezes, his breath catching in his throat as Killua looks up, confusion flickering in those perfectly beautiful eyes. Gon's heart feels like breaking again because Killua is confused. He's staring wide-eyed and dumbfounded.

"W-what? My... love...?"

Gon can't take it. That Killua would be confused by something Gon feels so truly. It's because of them, them, and their sick, twisted, hateful love.

"Did you bonk your head, stupid?"

Gon shakes his head, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against Killua's, grinning widely, his small dimples showing, fingers tugging Killua in closer and never letting go.

"Nope! Killua is my love! Killua's my everything! My sunshine! My moon! My stars! My sun!"

Every word he fills with strength and love, love they never gave him, as Killua's blotchy cheeks, pale ivory, and pink, go red. It's beautiful. Killua's beautiful. Gon doesn't want him to be in pain anymore. Some might think it nothing more than childish adoration, making him say something out of a romcom. That's not it at all. Despite what it seemed, his childish nature, and baby face, Gon was intelligent, and he knows with all his heart he loves Killua.

Killua blubbers, those long slim beautiful fingers, digging into Gon's shirt as he buries his head into Gon's shoulder. Gon smiles so softly, fingers petting Killua's locks of hair. Killua is light as a feather, really, but the weight of his head and body craning into Gon makes Gon's heart skip a beat. He hums happily, tracing circles around Killua's bony shoulder blade. He isn't even sure how long they stay like that... Gon feels his eyes get heavy a few times before he shakes himself awake.

Killua's light breathing and drooling all over his shoulder makes Gon peer down fondly as he lifts Killua up with ease, warmth ebbing in his chest. He wouldn't let Killua have any more nightmares, not tonight, not ever; he'd never let the Zoldyck's touch Killua again.

Gon walks through the hole in the wall, sort of sad he can't see the cute little blush that will bloom across Killua's features when he tells him he punched a hole through the wall for him, but Gon supposes he can wait. To alas also be scolded too... although he might already get scolded as big blue eyes stare at him, Alluka standing there in her pink pajamas, worry pooling in her eyes.

Alluka must have heard her brother's screams, now and before; she probably always worried about him... So Gon grins, ending up on the side of the bed almost falling off, Killua pressed against his chest, Alluka on the other side, hugging her brother from behind. Gon lovingly caresses Killua's cheek, and Alluka yawns, peering at him through sleepy eyes.

"You really love big brother, huh?"

"Mmm. I love him lots."

Alluka grins, slowly closing her eyes.

"Nanika's glad, so am I."

Gon smiles, although she or Killua can't see, reaching over and tugging the sheet over her and Killua more, leaving one of his hands to rest on Killua's waist, the other Alluka's shoulder.

He was glad too.

[terrainofheartfelt]

"It's you, it couldn't be awful"

A Playlist For Dair Appreciation Week, Day 7 - Fave Quotes & Lyrics

I haven’t the faintest idea how to make gifs (seriously I think all of you are witches) so I made this playlist, because there is nothing I love more than scrolling through my spotify library and just projecting all over it.

Track listings and links with opinions & lyrics under the cut, because this thing is long, because I have no restraint.

(Note: I intentionally left off all tswift bc if I didn’t, we’d be here all day)

Section 1: The Bops

Little of Your Love - HAIM

A bop that embodies the energy of the 4b arc, and an energy of “Oh for crying out loud, Humphrey”

You’re just another recovering heart / I wasn’t even gonna try / you wouldn’t even give the time

Stop runnin’ your mouth like that / ‘cause you know I’m gonna give it right back

Hate That You Know Me - Bleachers

It’s “You owe me ten / You owe me twenty!” & “I was hoping it would go away / I was humiliated” & basically all of While You Weren’t Sleeping, tbh

Some days I, I wish that I wasn't myself / No luck! / And I hate that you know me so well

I Like Me Better - Lauv

Heavily featured in all y’all’s gifsets—and rightfully so!!! It’s also like the perfect counter to the previous song.

To not know who I am but still know that I'm good long as you're here with me

Sweet Talk - Saint Motel

It’s about Blair roasting Dan for filth and him being completely charmed by it.

when you laugh / I forget that it's about me / But it's alright / Yeah, cause being your punchline / Still is something

No Reason to Run - Cold War Kids

In the perfect version of the show that lives in my head, this is the end credits song that plays as the two of them frolic in Rome.

I have evolved like a fish growing legs / Woke like a lightbulb clicked in my brain

You Make Lovin' Fun - Fleetwood Mac

The song for the couple that fucked in an elevator. Bless the work.

Sweet wonderful you / You make me happy with the things you do

No Matter What You Do - covered by Jakob Dylan and Regina Spektor

The energy is “I have a lot of affection for you but you are so annoying.” And this is the obligatory post-breakup s6 song.

No matter what in the world you do / Hey, I'll always be in love with you

Don't Take the Money - Bleachers

I see so much love for tswift on this website (valid) but I feel like the world as a whole sleeps on her collaborator Jack Antonoff bc he is brilliant and his act Bleachers has some of my favorite songs ever. Like this one. Antonoff has said before that the title phrase is more metaphorical than literal, like an idiom that means don’t take the easy way and give this up, because it’s genuine. Real “I want to have a sleepover with you” vibes.

Somebody broke me once / Love was a currency / A shimmering balance act / I think that I laughed at that

In the Morning - Nina Simone

It’s about the domesticity! And the “Our relationship is our world”! And the “we’re young and still have so much life to live so everything’s gonna be okay.” did i title a smut fic with lyrics from this song maybeso.gif

Please be patient with your life / It's only morning and you're still to live your day

This Must Be the Place - Talking Heads

This is a canon dair song bc @mysteriesofloves titled a fic after this song, them’s the rules. But for real, this is such a good one. The lyrics are intentionally scattered, a little bewildered, like “how did we get here? how did this happen? who found whom?” and finally “who cares? we found a home in each other.”

The less we say about it, the better / We'll make it up as we go along

Cleopatra in Brooklyn - Frank Turner

Chosen for the title obviously, but the lyrics capture the royal/5b arc pretty well, I think. The narrator carries this tongue-and-cheek comparison of the woman he’s singing to to Cleopatra through the whole song, comparing himself to Marc Antony, and ending with this really earnest kind of declaration. I’m obsessed with this songwriter he’s a genius please give him a listen.

These people are adjectives to your proper noun

I'll come find you when your fortunes fail you / I'll die with you when the gods desert you

Morphing into Section 2: Pure Vibes

Walking on a Dream - covered by Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness

The original is by Empire of the Sun (and omigod I just realized the coincidence), but I first heard it covered by McMahon, and he’s one of my favorite musicians of ever so I just love his rendition. And this song is sort of like...about finally deciding that the reality of love with someone is so much better than the idea of it.

Thought I’d never see / The love you found in me / Now it’s changing all the time

Wake Me - Bleachers

Jack coming for my life yet again. This song is so romantic but also so melancholy? Which is such a Daniel Humphrey Vibe.

And I'd rather be sad with you / Than anywhere away from you

All I Want - Joni Mitchell

I’m a white girl with a mother who grew up in the 60s, so I love Joni. And this song is so bubbly and joyful, but it’s also about a relationship between two imperfect people and wanting it to work anyway. Big “Despicable B” vibes!

All I really want our love to do / Is to bring out the best in me / And in you, too.

Dust to Dust - The Civil Wars

A friend in undergrad got me into the Civil Wars by showing me their live videos, and they have such incredible musical chemistry - like, the synchronicity of their ensemble is so good that it even comes through on their studio recordings and it makes these simple lyrics hit SO HARD.

You're just lonely / You've been lonely too long

NFWMB - Hozier

Ok, this had to be like the first ask I ever sent @bisexualdanhumphrey bc they wrote this fantastic meta post about Hozier and Derena but I said: “consider: NFWMB is a Dair song.” And they said, “You right.” I stand by it, and that’s why this song is on this list.

If I was born as a blackthorn tree / I'd wanna be felled by you / Held by you / Fuel the pyre of your enemies

Friday I'm in Love - covered by Phoebe Bridgers

This song - especially this cover - gives such Secret Friendship Arc vibes a la the end of 4x16...the inherent romance of eating pizza and falling asleep on the couch together

Always take a big bite / It’s such a gorgeous sight / To see you eat in the middle of the night

A Case of You - Joni Mitchell

Queen Joni again. Like! I am a lonely painter / I live in a box of paints. & The “You’re the star of Dan’s book” of it all in these lyrics!

I remember that time you told me / You said “Love is touching souls” / Surely you touched mine / ‘cause part of you pours out of me / In these lines from time to time.

Longing to Belong - Eddie Vedder

This is my thinly veiled attempt to tell more people about this: a song written and performed by Pearl Jam’s Eddie Vedder on ukulele, that is actually the softest love song in the history of western music.

All my time is spent here / Longing to belong to you

Bones - Josh Record

Okay, so, that Moment on the Couch at the end of 5x02? That’s this song.

And darling, when your feet are cold / Wait up, I'm coming home / And all of you I will hold / My love will clothe your bones

Cinnamon Girl - Lana Del Rey

The song for when you reach the end of plausible deniability - One all consuming paralyzing thought & You need to go back to Brooklyn - and it scares the heck out of you.

There's things I wanna say to you, but I'll just let you live / Like if you hold me without hurting me / You'll be the first who ever did

You and Me - You + Me

You can be flawed enough but perfect for a person

Section 3: Songs for Dancing in the Kitchen with Your Lover at 1 am

Cigarettes and Coffee - Otis Redding

The “Dan and I have a real connection song.” It’s about the romance of commonplace things when they’re with the right person.

But it seemed so natural, darling / That you and I are here

I'd Be Waiting - Nathaniel Rateliff and the Night Sweats

It’s “I just want to spend the day with you” but in like, slow-dance, sexy harmonies format.

If you ever get lonely if you never did

Never My Love - covered by Jakob Dylan and Norah Jones

The “Words of Affirmation” love song they deserve, and an underrated love song from Laurel Canyon, imho

What makes you think love will end? / When you know that my whole life depends / On you

Dancing in the Dark - covered by Morgan James

Okay so these lyrics are such Dan lyrics to me, it’s charmingly self-aware and self-deprecating. And this cover by Morgan James turns this staple rock song into something ~sexy~

I'm dying for some action / I'm sick of sittin' round here trying to write this book / I need a love reaction / Come on, gimme just one look

Oh Me Oh My (I'm a Fool for You) - Aretha Franklin

They’re literally always making each other laugh! It’s about feeling safe enough to be uninhibited and unselfconscious in your joy.

To make you laugh / I would be a fool for you

I Fall in Love Too Easily - as done by Chet Baker

No one, but no one sounds as sweet or as smooth as Chet. I know it, you know it, Hozier knows it. And this song and it’s titular thesis is so Them, it’s such a central part of their respective characters, and one of the things that makes them compatible.

My heart should be well schooled / 'Cause I've been fooled in the past

For Me Formidable - Charles Aznavour

Due entirely to this fic (Part II of a god tier s4 au) This is the end credits song for their full feature length Nora Ephron romcom.

NSFW Honorable Mention: Dinner & Diatribes - Hozier

it’s the definitive “men get pegged” representation, iykyk

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Hello there! Can I please get a what if for your Christmas celebration? I couldn't choose between marauders era and shadow and bone so I was wondering if you could choose whichever of either fits better?

Physical description - I'm a straight female, I'm 5'9 and I have long wavy dark brown hair and brown eyes. I have a fair skin tone, I'm slim and I've got full lips and slight dark circles under my eyes and I have broad shoulders. I dress mostly in relaxed suits, blazers and coats and I love the occasional dress or sweaters layered over a white button down!

Personality description - It takes me a while to feel comfortable around new people but once I do, I become really talkative and outgoing. I love helping out and I'm the therapist friend, people come to me to vent or for advice and comfort. I'm smart and ambitious, I love being the best at everything I do, though I sometimes struggle with the hardwork and conviction needed to get there. I'm quite the hopeless romantic and I love being in love! I also daydream a lot and I can get lost in my own world for hours. I can be quite dramatic and stubborn and I tend to be withdrawn at times. I get frustrated easily and I'm quietly competitive. My love languages are words of affirmation and physical touch.

Hobbies/likes - I love reading, my favorite genres are fantasy and poetry. I also love learning about new things and collecting knowledge, I'm very interested in psychology, history, mythology and folklore, and fashion! I adore adventures, witty and playful banter, joking around and having indepth discussions on anything and everything! I adore all forms of art and I have quite a few creative hobbies! I listen to a lot of modern/indie rock and I love watching psychological thrillers and romcoms.

Placements - I'm a ravenclaw, my mbti is infp and my enneagram is 4w3

Thank you very much! I hope you have a wonderful day <3

second christmas what if this year! thank you so much for requesting, and if anyone wants their own, go check out my christmas special! 

 what if...

You were in Harry Potter?

- Though you are Pandora twin sister, people rarely believe it when you tell them. Because she looks nothing at all like you, and you look nothing at all like her. She inherited the blonde locks from your mother, you the brown curls from your father. Where she is extraverted and outgoing, you are quiet and distant. You’ve always been best friends, but always different, too. And when you eventually come to Hogwarts. you’re sorted into Ravenclaw, and she’s sorted into Hufflepuff. Of course, it fits both of you wonderfully. Just that you’re not too comfortable around new people, and all that without your sister at your side is indeed a little bit scary. 

- Soon you find out though that in this house, you’re far from being the only one who feels that way. You’re often daydreaming, lost in thoughts and worlds of your own creation, but so seems to be quite literally every other Ravenclaw. Your nose buried in the pages of books, the common room becomes the perfect room to calm down, because a lot of the time it’s quiet, everyone else too invested in their own stuff to talk just as well. There’s Ravenclaws who tinker, Ravenclaws who write, Ravenclaws who sing and dance. Everyone has a talent, that’s common knowledge here, even if they haven’t found it yet, and individuality is cherished. You quickly grow to love that - not only the house, but its students.

- Few weeks into the first year, you get to know Xenophilius Lovegood. You first run into him on your way to Charms, once again quite late, but the class barely ever arrives on time. The teachers have come to ignore it mostly, since there is  rarely a Ravenclaw sitting amongst them when they are supposed to. You proudly carry on that tradition, and so seems to be Xenophilius. You’re trying to read, put your hair into a bun and keep your bag from ripping open because its stuffed full all at the same time, and you’re not quite succeeding. But he doesn’t come along as the hero people usually do, but instead deep in his own thoughts, both arms full of scrolls, books, glass bottles and all kinds of things that you would have long put in a bag. Everything lands on the floor as the two of you collide - books, books, books, your very own bag and whatever it is that he’s been carrying. 

- From then on, it’s that kind of “meant to be” friendship that one can only really dream of. He’s often spacing out, but you never mind. Therefore you’re the one who talks while he’s rather quiet, but when he’s experimenting, suddenly the roles reverse. Where you struggle, he’s there to help out, often silently and in what others would perhaps even call an intrusive behaviour, taking things from your hands when you don’t know what to do with them instead of instructing. But he knows when you become frustrated, when you become impatient, and he manages with expert care to keep you from blowing up. The way he does wouldn’t work for everyone, but it surely works for you. 

- Despite the different houses you’ve been sorted into, you still meet with Pandora often. She finds more friends a lot quicker than you, but you don’t mind, especially after meeting Xenophilius. Often she invites you over for sleepovers during the following years, but you mostly decline and stick to silent nights in the common room, reading, tinkering with Xenophilius, talking about whatever comes to your mind. Eventually Pandora meets him. Never have you seen her so nervous, so blushy, but still so confident at the same time. It doesn’t take you long to figure out that she’s fallen for him, but it takes you quite a while to find out that he has fallen for her as well. Though of course some little part of you realises that both of them will spend more time without you now, you’re absolutely happy for them, encouraging Pandora to ask him out because you know he never would. You’re not even sure he’s all that aware of his own feelings. But you make certain he accepts, and just as well that they don’t break each others hearts, because you’d hate to have your best friend and your sister in conflict. It’s wonderful to watch their relationship bloom, both of them so in love you want to smile each time you look at them. 

- It does come the way you believed it would. You spend much, much more time on your own now. They make sure to include you, but you often decline, wanting them to be by themselves. You don’t mind being alone, it’s just like those first weeks in Hogwarts. You are alone indeed, but rarely lonely. Walking through the halls, actually taking in once again the beauty that is the castle. Until, that is, one fine day you stumble right upon the Marauders running from a cursing Filch. You know them, of course. Everyone does. But you’re not a Gryffindor, not a Slytherin. Rarely their pranks are directed at you, rarely they directly affect you. You often laugh when they do - in Transfiguration, mainly. You don’t have that many classes with the Gryffindors, but Transfiguration with those four is still and always an absolute delight. You like their minds, admire them in a way that did not mean only intelligence, but their quick replies and witty remarks. On the school grounds, you pass by them sometimes with Xenophilius at your side, but other than a snide remark and some snickers you’ve never got their attention. 

- Until just now. Because you know that the second you turn the corner, that your life is to be turned upside down. You react with such reflex that you surprise even yourself. Filch has his cat on one arm, limping after the boys he’ll surely not catch, but who are to face their consequences soon, since in the hallway you’d just come out of - that they are running into - McGonagall is talking to a small group of Slytherin students. You pull out your wand, mutter a spell under your breath, and there Filch stands, paralyzed, and the boys stop in the midst of their movements. You murmur another spell for Filch while the Gryffindors stumble for footing as the first one quickly wears off, leaving them totally surprised. It’s quick work to explain the situation to them, in return demanding an answer to just what they’ve done this time. And as neatly done is the memory spell you jinx Filch with. That one’s definitely not allowed, and also not taught in class, but you’ve learnt for yourself, and you have wanted to test it out a long, long while. 

- The Marauders don’t leave you alone from that moment on. You take time warming up to them, at first responding to their every question with the most formal answers, then hoping they go away if you ignore their existence wholly, and finally realising that none of it works and you’re going to have to deal with them one way or another. Their pranks suddenly explode everywhere you go, and yet you’re magically unaffected by every single one of them, never as much as smoke clouding your vision or glitter dropping onto your hair. And you enjoy them quite a lot, even if you try to pretend that you don’t. All of it because you know that they’re trouble, and to be honest, your life was never loud, never troublesome. You don’t want that to change. But it does. 

- Over time, you grow fond of the Marauders. Of witty, sassy Remus, who you can talk to about whatever interests you, he’s read about it. Of dramatic, confident Sirius, who is the best dressed man you’ve ever been around, exchanging fashion advice over breakfast, and lunch, and dinner. Of quiet, happy Peter, who has finally found someone in you that he open up to, who makes you smile whenever he’s around. Even of daring, unbelievable James, who annoys you at all times and never less, but who immediately turns your mood the second he enters a room. They bring out the best and the worst in you, so many aspects of your own personality that you haven’t explored before - an adventurous side, a competitive side, a dramatic side, a stubborn side. You keep up with their energy easily, though you need longer to recharge than they do after. But they’re wonderful to have around, and they enjoy your company just as much. 

- It comes as it should, of course, that someday you catch feelings. And James does, too. It’s a curious love, a spontaneous one, something that you thought you’d never get to experience. He drags you along wherever he goes, but never without your consent. So you are suddenly at Quidditch matches that you’ve never been interested in before, cheering for a house that is not your own, running onto the field as the lions win to fling yourself into his arms and kiss him right there. It’s something that seems too good to be true, but there you have it, that arrogant git as your boyfriend, and the best one you could’ve ever asked for. 

hope you enjoyed it hun! <3

[girlsloveamystery]

TAKE MY HAND - Medical Bughead AU.

It was an angry tirade of loud voices that startled Betty out of sleep what only felt like minutes later. "Not. Happening."

"I'm sorry, sir, but we are moving as fast as we can, so you're going to have to wait," this was Josie, voice sounding tired and borderline like she was on the verge of tears. Betty frowned.

"I cannot wait," a man hissed, and Betty listened intently. "My little sister has a fever that is high enough to be considered threatening. I need you to get someone to look at her. Now." The final word was punctuated with what could only be described as a hand slamming down on the front desk angrily and Betty was throwing back her covers and moving towards the aggression faster than she had time to think.

Then, another voice. "I'm going to need you both to calm down and take a breath here. You'll wake up someone who will not be happy and then you'll both have dug your own graves."

"I'm awake, Sweet Pea. No need for grave digging," Betty said as she walked out of the room, straightening out her doctor's coat, eyes travelling over the scene before her. Sweet Pea stood, tall and upset as his arms were folded across his chest; Josie McCoy, the nurse on registration duty that night, looking as if she was going to cry any moment which was frankly odd. Josie had bones made of steel – no patient or family member ever rattled her. Ever. Frowning, she then looked at the final person and felt herself lose her breath momentarily. Tall, a few inches shorter than Pea, and a chiseled, angular jaw – that did look flexed in anger, truthfully – and blue, oceanic eyes staring at her with open frustration. A look she knew well from family members demanding their loved ones be seen first. Squaring her shoulders, Betty quickly acted.

"Josie, what's the problem?" Betty asked, frowning as the woman's eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill.

"This man – Jughead – is demanding we see his sister, but we already have a line of patients and we just can't make the exception to bend the rules and…and…," her voice trailed off as even Sweet Pea looked at her in concern.

"You okay, Josie?" Sweet Pea asked.

"No! My boyfriend dumped me on our stupid one-year anniversary. Like, who the fuck does that?" Josie hissed. "To make it worse, my cramps are awful."

Betty forced herself to take a calming breath because, yeah, okay, being dumped on your one-year was a dick move and cramps were a bitch. She could extend some sympathy here and, as she glanced at the other man – Jughead, she remembered – she noticed he too had a softer expression than the one he bore moments before.

"Okay, Josie, take the day. If you don't feel comfortable driving home yet, go the breakroom. Back closet, top shelf, there's a heating pad and you know where the painkillers are. Take two. Then, text Kevin to pick up something for you to eat on his way in, he'll be here within the hour. When, and only when you feel stable enough to drive, go home, order your favorite takeout, and get a movie. My recommendation: not a fucking romcom but something good. Horror, preferably. One where the main guy dies – body hacked into pieces, is my advice," Betty instructed, ignoring Sweet Pea's snort of laughter as Josie nodded and stood up, wiping her face as she went.

"Thanks, Betty," she said, and she nodded.

"Get some rest and come back tomorrow," she replied, waving her off. Then she turned to Jughead, who was watching her with open curiosity.

"Where's your little sister?" Betty asked.

[purplecherrypie]

Tag 9 people to learn about their interests!

Thanks for tagging me @kolwyntjie I love you so much!!

MUSIC

Fav genre? I kind of listen to a bit of everything

Fave artist? It changes but I keep coming back to Troye Sivan (his songs are just really really catchy)

Fave song? Again, it changes, but my absolute favourite I think is Cool Cat by Queen

Most listened song recently? Spotify tells me it’s Heat Waves by Glass Animals which makes sense because I listen to it while working

Song currently stuck in your head? Perfect Places by Lorde

5 fave lyrics?

The fortune said

Flowers bloom with no regret

Surround me, body and soul

Pull me into your glow, make me blush

Unbound me, spin me in gold

As the story unfolds in your touch

- Hypnotised by Years & Years

(Yes it’s six lines I can’t help it okay that’s the verse)

radio or your own playlist | solo artists or bands | pop or indie | loud or silent volume I slow or fast songs | music video or lyrics video | speakers or headset | riding a bus in silence or while listening to music | driving in silence or with radio on

BOOKS

Fav book genre? Fantasy, romcoms, mystery novels

Fave writer? Currently it’s Holly Black since I’m busy reading everything she’s ever written

Fave book? Everything Leads To You by Nina LaCour (it’s so good I love it)

Fave book series? Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo (does a duology count as a series?)

Comfort book? I have to repeat my answer of Everything Leads To You, it’s my favourite book because it’s a comfort read

Rainy day book? Some cheesy fantasy or romcom (I recently read Boyfriend Material by Alexis Hall and holy shit I’m in love)

Fave characters? If you’ve read anything I’ve written then you know I love Lucien Vanserra, but also Jesper Fahey and Jude Duarte

5 quotes from your fave books?

1. “The best things aren’t perfectly constructed. They aren’t illusions. They aren’t larger than life. They are life.”  (Everything Leads To You, Nina LaCour)

2. “ When the world owed you nothing, you demanded something of it anyway.”  (Crooked Kingdom, Leigh Bardugo)

3. “And then, inexplicably, you had the absolute audacity to love me back . Can you believe it? Sometimes, even now, I still can’t.”  (Red, White and Royal Blue, Casey McQuiston)

4. “As much as I had wanted a love story out of a movie, I know now that movies can only hope to capture this kind of love”  (Everything Leads To You, Nina LaCour)

5. “You imagine a world where the two of you can go out to dinner together on a Saturday night and no one thinks twice about it. It makes you want to cry, the simplicity of it, the smallness of it.”  (The Seven Husbands Of Evelyn Hugo, Taylor Jenkins Reid)

hardcover or paperback | buy or rent | standalone novels or book series | ebook or physical copy | reading at night or during the day | reading at home or in nature | listening to music while reading or reading in silence | reading in order or reading the ending first | reliable or unreliable narrator | realism (for romcoms) or fantasy | one or multiple POVS | judging by the covers or by the summary | rereading or reading just once

TV AND MOVIES

Fave tv/movie genre? I watch a bunch of stuff, anything but horror or really tragic stuff

Fave movie? Into The Spiderverse (it was PERFECT)

Comfort movie? I don’t really watch movies often so I don’t have one

Movie you watch every year? The Lego Batman Movie (my cousins and I watch it together every summer, it’s tradition)

Fave tv show? Leverage

Comfort tv show? Don’t have one

Most rewatched tv show? White Collar (I’ve watched it beginning to end six times now I think)

5 fave characters? Ha I can say Jesper again because he’s in Shadow and Bone; also Miles Morales, Breanna Casey, Alec Hardison, and Dick Grayson

tv shows or movie | short seasons (8-13 episodes) or full seasons (22 episodes or more) | one episode a week or binge-ing | one season or multiple seasons | one part or saga | half hour or one hour long episodes | subtitles on or off | rewatching or watching just once | downloads or watches online

Tagging: @inkstainedvictorian, @flamingveritas, @queenschessboard

[youarejesting]

Quarantine.7

[Masterlist] Pairing: BTS x reader Friends2Lovers But as slow as you can go until the anticipation kills us all… Genres: friendship, drama, romance SLOWEST OF BURNS BUT IT WILL BE BURNING AN ETERNAL FLAME!!! Rating: PG-13 and above Summary: Your brother works with a few BigHit dance teams and whilst having permission to accompany him at work the city shuts down banning anyone from stepping outside for a whole WEEK while they disinfect the streets. If you step outside you might get arrested, shot or poisoned by the chemicals they are emitting through the city. Words: 2.7k Announcement: Sorry that I posted this late the reason why is I had this complete at 8:30pm but my google doc decided to take my edited version and my unedited version and layer them on top of each other so naturally, I wanted to knock myself out with a hammer. After a long shower, I painstakingly worked on it as even the google docs history hadn’t saved the edited version. 

[Part 1]  [Part 6]  [Part 8]   [Tag Yourself Here]

You had a major major breakdown. Why did it hurt so bad? Was it the disappointment on Hoseok's face? You crawled out of your makeshift tub and wrapped yourself in a towel. Slipping on clean underwear and a hoodie you trudged back into your little home if you will. Eyes which were swollen and red from your tears becoming heavy. The door to the storage room opened, there in the doorway stood Taehyung “Annyong,” his deep tone filled the room as you watched his tiny gestures. He had wrapped himself in his blanket and hugged his pillow. 

“What is it,” You were finding it hard to be blunt with him as he was so gentle and innocent. He was a fully matured young man, he had his moments of perversion or pranks but overall he didn’t have a malicious bone in his body. 

“Can I sleep beside you?” Nodding too exhausted and sad to say no. He shut the door and waddled over, laying down beside you and making himself comfortable. After a few minutes of fluffing his pillow and removing your blanket and laying his bigger blanket over you both. Despite the extra room his blanket gave, he pulled you close wrapping his arms around you. You fit perfectly in his arms, letting out an audible whine as your breasts felt so soft behind your hoodie. He tried to think about other things like his favourite painter’s while singing under his breath anything to distract from your presence. The plain vanilla scent that emanated from your skin had him pressing his nose to your neck. 

Every time you started to fall asleep he would moan your name and hug you tighter. Only settling when you wrapped him in your arms. His face up close was so inhuman, his sharp jaw and angular nose, the ratios between his eyes nose and lips were perfect, the symmetry everything. It was too good to be true. His personality was so gentlemanly as well it was like he just stepped out of a romance novel. Not the fifty shades kind where they have a haunting and mysterious backstory no this was the kind that is always there and the female lead doesn’t notice how good he is until the end and everything has a happy end.

Except this wasn’t the case, there was no love story here. People as perfect and gentle as Taehyung, they end up with; kind, generous and drop-dead gorgeous people. Even you wanted that for him. When you finally managed to fall asleep you were trapped in some romcom nightmare. Where your hunky neighbour and best friend Taehyung was trying to get you to fall in love with him. You had given in towards the end when he had saved your life in the dream. Taehyung lent in to kiss you, however, an inch away he pulled back and it was actually Hoseok. He looked at you in disgust and hurt. “I guess we weren’t friends after all”

Ripped from your dream with a jolt you accidentally startled Taehyung. It was useless to try to get out of his grip, you were supposed to be forgetting about them. You weren’t supposed to be worrying about Taehyung’s need for skinship and you definitely weren’t supposed to be hung up on Hoseok who was all you could think about. Him repeating those words ‘I guess we weren’t friends after all’.

“I missed you, why have you been hiding from us?” Taehyung hummed, finally addressing the subject of your disappearance the days prior. His hands slid up under your hoodie and his soft fingertips drew soft circles on your back. You don’t know if Taehyung knew the things he did were very romantic gestures one might do with a lover. Or if he just did whatever he wanted because it felt nice. You didn’t stop his gentle caress’ it felt too amazing on your jelly-like muscles. Instead, you pretended not to particularly enjoy the time you spent with him. Not saying anything that could ruin his innocent and happy bubble so early in the morning. 

“Tae I have to go for a shower,” You thought this time a hot shower was needed, your muscles were in quite a bad way. The journey to the bathroom and shower and the actions required to get there and undress seemed both impossible and daunting. 

“No don’t leave, I want to hug you” Did he not realise he was already hugging you? Your resolve wavered for a moment with the idea that maybe you could let him in and be nice. But the moment passed quickly and you sat up out of his arms he had rolled onto his chest pouting and kicking his legs under the blanket. His fake square mouth crying almost made you laugh and he noticed sitting up with a smirk. 

“Tae it’s just a shower”

“Take me with you,” he pinched your hoodie between his thumb and forefinger, you blushed causing him to beam a brilliant megawatt smile, maybe he knew what he was doing all along. You tried to get up eyes watering in pain, he held on firmly to the hem of your clothes. “Take me with you, it’s not the first time we have showered together” 

“Fine come on let’s shower, grab some clean clothes,” you said trying to pull his hand off your hoodie without flashing your underwear. He was frozen, his mouth falling open as he licked his lip, the idea of showering with you had been stuck in his mind ever since his drunken ordeal some nights ago. You managed to slip away from his grip and ducked quickly to the bathroom, remembering to lock the door behind you. 

You were shampooing your hair when you heard him try the door and whine “you're a liar!” His cry made you unknowingly smile from safe and unseen behind the bathroom walls. Your brassiere was still drying after you showered in your clothes. Dressing in black shorts and a white button-up you decided to go without, to be safe you threw on a black blazer. You didn’t want for any reason the shirt to become see-through and reveal your thing is if you were going without a bra it had to be a look. 

You put your hair in a business-appropriate style, your makeup was done with a dark lip tint and a slight bit of contouring of your cleavage. Adding jewellery you had found in the boxes. Simple geometric chain earring and layered geometric shape necklaces that had a chain that fell between your breasts both in silver. After slipping on some black heeled boots and looked in the mirror. 

This was the look. You were fierce and ready to take on anything. When you left the bathroom Taehyung wasn’t there. Walking down the corridor you called for the elevator checking yourself out in the stainless steel doors. You couldn’t stop the small amount of concern that coursed through you for the boys to be impressed. 

The people in the cafeteria were staring at you. Acting like it was no big deal as you confidently strode across the floor. The servers looked you over, shifting almost ashamed in their tracksuits, You made sure to be polite and compliment them. You weren’t a total bitch, nor did you think you were better than anyone here. They were talking hastily in Korean. Collecting your meal you turned to face the room. Areum waved at you from across the cafeteria. She was such a nice young woman, she had a boyfriend who face-timed her daily he was stuck in their apartment with their cats. She listened to your problems and even gave you great advice. 

Waving back, she looked pretty in the dresses you had given her which were too small for you. She looked a lot less dishevelled having access to your secret shower you had given her a time slot where she could shower, in hopes that it was never congested in the basement. You didn’t want people to start wondering why everyone was hanging out down there. For the safety of the bathroom, you removed the sign on the door. So if anyone happened to go down there it looked like just another storage room. Aiming to sit next to your brother for lunch. He had, of course, threatened you to come out of the basement or he would give your secret shower location away to all the employees. 

You carried your tray, walking slowly across the cafeteria floor. Still not spotting your brother. You ignored Taehyung's wave from their table. Someone snatched your tray, looking at them you saw Jungkook running towards the band’s table. Yoongi and Jimin wrapped their arms around your shoulders and waist, leading you without a chance to escape. Sitting you down trapped between them. Namjoon and Seokjin sat across from you both scanning your face and outfit. 

“Ya don’t pout we aren’t that bad,” Seokjin said pointing his chopsticks at you and snapping them threateningly. It wasn’t a real threat he looked rather amused, his eyes glancing to the unbuttoned section of your shirt every now and again. Hoseok refused to speak while eating his breakfast and whenever he was spoken to he merely shrugged. You ate your breakfast in mostly silence, answering them only when they asked you a question. 

Once breakfast was over you handed your tray over to the kitchen helpers and when you turned you saw Hoseok tongue pressed against his cheek staring at your ass in the shorts you were wearing. Whoever Gfriend was? They had some cute and stylish outfits. The others announced they were going to go get ready for the day, You went to the dance studio followed by Hoseok who sat at the back of the room watching you. You danced for about half an hour before the rest of the boys came in sitting beside Hoseok and cheering you on. The song you were halfway through dancing to had a lot you could relate to in your current situation. Dancing out your feelings. 

Hoseok had seen it the moment it started the regression and depression in your eyes, he knew when you stopped leaving the basement, that something was wrong. When you started hiding from them in the halls and dodging them he knew they must have said something to hurt you. He thought it showed how much they cared, how completely wrapped around your finger they were. When you came back from the supply run gasping and begging for water he was the one to get it. But hearing you say that they didn’t care because they were famous. He wasn’t expecting that at first, he was hurt and mad because none of that was true, but the more he thought about it he knew you were right about one thing. Without the quarantine, you might not have met. 

He wondered how he could make you trust them, that they wouldn’t just leave you when this was over, but he didn’t know for sure if they would even have time to hang out after. You had a right to be upset. No amount of makeup you wore could conceal the puffiness around your eyes. And here you were again a few tears falling as you put your soul into your dance. 

You spun a complete circle ready for the chorus, only to spot Hoseok in the mirror dancing beside you. Copying some of your choreography that you had been repeating every chorus and when you kicked your leg up he caught it. Pulling you forward to fall against his strong chest. They all didn’t look like much but they were all so very strong. While still holding your leg he wrapped his free arm around your back. Lifting you slightly and walking you back towards the mirror, you were both panting chest to chest your leg secure in his hand above your head. 

You felt the stretch in your hamstring and groaned. Your muscles were still sore. Turning your head away, not wanting to be a part of whatever it was he thought he was doing. He whispered in Korean his thumb brushing your cheek which you hadn’t realised was damp from tears. Pushing him away you straightened up both feet firmly planted on the ground. 

You grabbed your things and tried to leave, you were getting too emotional. They were trying to get close to you again. Didn’t Hoseok say that you weren’t friends? Namjoon stopped you grabbing your arm. “Did we do something wrong?”

“No” You refused to look at him and his grip tightened slightly as he tried to stop you struggling. “Look, I am just preparing for when the quarantine is over and we never see or speak to each other again because you boys are Korean celebrities and I am just a random foreigner who took your interest for a few days”

“Hey that’s not how we see you,” he said but you didn’t want to hear it, it could only make it worse if he actually said they thought of you as their actual friend. Because then you would get attached and when this was all over you would have to learn to cope never being able to see them again. Because of their crazy work schedule. What was the point of being friends? You knew you didn’t think this way, you would happily wait for them no matter how long their schedule was your whole life would be on pause for them. It was a dangerous way to live.

Passing Areum your head down, she called to you. Ducking into the elevator the doors closed on the shadow of a figure running towards it calling your name. The doors shut giving you a place to let your guard down, except when the door opened once more and you were met with the gorgeous sight of Kim Seokjin. He stepped inside and closed the doors. He hit the basement button and leaned back against the wall panting. 

“I got to work out more” you passed the second floor and he turned walking over. “You are right we Korean idols, we aren’t allowed to date, or hook up with anyone”

He tucked your hair behind your ear. “But that doesn’t mean our feelings aren’t real we are human” he reached up his palm covering the Elevator camera and he tilted your head up with his free hand. His face was so close and his eyes burning in anger. Anger that you could only assume was aimed at the very same idol status that was holding back from life. His breathing shook either from the chase or from the raw emotion he was feeling. “That doesn’t mean we don’t want to”

You were struck once in the chest, it was like the strike of lightning. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it once more unsure of the right words. The problem with the service elevator is it moved slower than the others, so you finally passed the first floor. And like that his lips were on yours. They were so soft and slid with such ease across yours. His warm tongue joining in and he tilted his head deepening the kiss and pressing you further against the wall. You felt helpless like Seokjin and the boys were an ocean at high tide and what was once shallow water had risen up around your knees and pulled you in. But every time it pulled you in it pushed you back. You were going to drown you just knew it. He was breathing heavily and audibly. Not wanting this to stop as he was finally feeling free, he finally was able to act on something. 

All too soon the elevator slowed. He placed his free hand on the wall beside your head and pushed against it, straightening himself back up. Looking up at him, he seemed to recall his blank demeanour now that his hand was removed from the security camera. Feeling your heart drop, disappointed eyes stinging as you tried to hold back tears. You punched Seokjin in the chest, you were too exhausted and weren’t particularly trying to hurt him. “Stop playing with my emotions. Is this funny to you?”

Storming off you went to your ‘home’ and curled up in your blanket, your hand drifting to your lips as you could still feel him there. You could still taste him. The memories wouldn’t stop replaying and you hated how it felt so good. You were having a panic attack and as luck would have it, your asthma puffer was four floors above you.

[Part 1]  [Part 6]  [Part 8]  [Tag Yourself Here]

Tags:  @bubbletae7​ @lovemusicandotps​ @taetaeb @seveniefive​ @w0lfqu33n​ @anaiss97​ @moccahobi​ @maddymal​

[interstellarflowers]

In Between || Peter Parker x Reader

A/N hey im back, i missed you guys. here's my first fic coming off of hiatus i hope you like it, this is set post infinity war. 

In Between 

Peter Parker x Reader

Now

       Death was always a highly debated topic in your life, which made it highly confusing. Which made everything now even more mind boggling, were you dead? Were you alive? Somewhere in between? You weren’t sure but you felt trapped. Like, the walls were closing in even though there were no walls. You were on a street. You knew you recognized it from somewhere, although you couldn’t quite place it. Everything was so strange, it was like you could remember everything and nothing at all. You were in a city, the sky was painted a faded blue and the clouds didn’t move. It looked like a place that should be lively, but it was desolate. It made you feel empty. 

      Tall. Everything here was tall and endless. It made you feel very finite and extremely small. It made you want to scream, and it made you want to never speak again, it made you want to run, and it made you want to lay down and freeze time, it made you want to cry, but it put you at ease. You didn’t know where you were going, but you had this feeling in your chest, like a flower blooming, like winter turning to spring, so you followed it.

Before

     You looked across the main floor of the tower and you saw him;He was a warm summer rain, he was hot chocolate in the winter and he was the birds singing at sunset. He was Peter Parker, and he was your summer rain, hot chocolate and birds all in one. He eased your mind. 

    He gave you the sort of side smile that the boys in those romcoms do that makes the love interest swoon. You knew it made you swoon. 

     “What will it be today, (y/n)?”

      “I’m not sure yet but hopefully an adventure.” You shot him a side smile back, and you’ll never know, but in that moment he swore that if he was in a romcom then you must be his co-star. 

Now

      You were with someone. You lost them, Where were they? You turned around and it was the same desolate street. You shot your head up to look at the sky, there were just buildings with nobody in them and that boundless sky. So you looked the only way you knew you could, forward. Towards...You weren’t sure where but it felt right, like you had made this walk thousands of times before. 

Before

     He swore to himself before, and he’d keep swearing to himself the same thing. That he would keep you safe no matter the cost. Yet there he was, stuck in space with Mr.Stark, and you were on Earth, millions of miles away. His heart ached and his stomach churned. He felt like something bad was about to happen, he felt it in his bones. More than anything, he wanted to know that whatever it was that you’d be spared. 

   He knew he would give his life for you, but he also knew that he couldn’t do that from space. 

Now

     You didn’t know how long it had been. It could’ve been minutes or hours or years, but you knew you were here. You looked up again, the building stood taller than the others and there was an unrecognizable name of some company or person at the very top. 

   “Stark,” you whispered to yourself. 

    You could’ve sworn you’d heard of it before, you just couldn’t place where. You slipped your fingers around the door handle and it opened with ease, you stepped inside…

Before

     The world was in ruin, it was crumbling before your eyes. War rained down from the very sky. You fought, and fought, and fought. Your limbs felt like they were going to give out, and every muscle in your body ached, but most of all you ached for Peter. You knew that you fought well, but you knew that you could fight so much better if only Peter had been there. 

Now

   You silently groaned as you realized that the elevator was out of order. 

    “What type of building is this?” your words echoed through the empty space, as you opened another door and began to climb step by step to wherever you were going.

Before

     Maybe you could have done something. Maybe you should have fought harder. There were so many maybes and too little time to think about it. 

     “It’s not your fault.” Dr.Banner called out to you as you felt tears pool in your eyes. You nodded because that was all you could do, you watched as everyone you loved began to dissipate. You cried out. You weren’t sure what it was exactly, suddenly you couldn’t hear anything. You looked down only to realize that you were fading away too, like an old photograph, like an old memory, you were disappearing. All you could do was watch helplessly as Dr.Banner and Uncle Steve ran to you. 

    But you were gone. Steve Rogers and Bruce Banner could only grasp at empty air, and look at where you just were, and beat themselves up mentally, only being able to assume the worst. 

After

    “I could’ve done something more,” Steve Rogers says to his group, “It used to keep me up at night. I couldn’t sleep for weeks, all I could see was her face...All I could think of was how I failed her...But we have to remember, it’s not our fault. We couldn’t have done anything no matter how badly we wish that we could’ve. Wherever they are now all we can do is be the person they’d want us to be, to lead the life they’d want for us. That’s all we can do.” 

     Bruce sat next to Steve listening to his words and nodding in agreement. He checked his phone for the eighth time that meeting and was only met with radio silence. He had asked Tony to come, saying it may help, saying he could use the support, but there was nothing. Just like last time.

Before

    Dad always used to say no boys allowed in your room, oh how things change. You trace circles on Peter’s chest as you watch him count the plastic glow in the dark stars on your ceiling. 

   “Hey Peter?”

   “Yeah?”

   “If we don’t make it out-”

   “Please don’t say that.”

   “I’m sorry Peter but I have to, if we don’t...I...I just want you to know that…”

   “I know (y/n), I love you too.”

   “I love you.” you whispered into his chest.

   “I’ll love you forever. Alive, dead, anywhere in between, I’ll always be right here,” he put his hand right over your heart and that’s when the tears starting flowing salty and glistening down both of your cheeks, “And you,” he moved his hand to put it over his heart, “will always be right here.” 

Now

    Now you stare at a door. A door you’re sure you recognize. Your hands start to shake as you begin to open the door…

Before

   “If we make it out I want you to know,” you pulled out a set of rings from the side of your bed, “That I promise to stand by you for the rest of your life...I know we’re teenagers, but Peter, after everything we’ve been through...Peter, we’ve been forced to grow up, and if I die tomorrow, I want to die yours.”

   “(y/n),” he took your hand in his, “Of course.” 

Now

   “(y/n)?”

   It was him. It was summer rain, hot chocolate and birds at sunset. It was your room. It was your home. You were home. 

   “Peter.” you jumped into his arms, “Where is everyone?”

   “It’ll come back to you soon,” 

   “What will?”

   “(y/n),” Peter paused, “Thanos, he won...Or at least for now, (y/n), we disappeared.” 

   “...Is my Dad here?”

   “I haven't seen Mr.Stark anywhere.” 

   “...At least I have you.”

   “You do (y/n), you have me forever,”

   “Do you think we’ll ever see everyone again?”

   “I don’t know (y/n) I wish I did. I’m so sorry.”

   “What for?”

   “I couldn’t keep you safe.”

  “It’s not your fault Peter. I love you.”

   “I love you too.” 

    You opened your eyes, not that there was much of a difference. It was dark outside too. Another day in the abyss, another year, another month? Time seemed to disappear here. You wished he was here. You missed Peter, you missed your dad. You wanted to go home. 

    Peter felt a tear drip down his cheek as he woke up to the same darkness that he’d found himself in after disintegrating in Mr.Stark’s arms. He just wanted to keep (y/n) safe. He just wanted to keep everyone safe. But he couldn’t even save himself. Wherever you were, he hoped you were safe. Wherever you were at least he knew he would always see you when he fell asleep. 

a/n so thats it i hope you liked it, its supposed to be a one shot but if you guys want a part two i can work on it, thank you for reading

[eddieeatsass]

Luck Has Nothing to Do With It

This was written as a gift for the winner of my 2K followers giveaway on tumblr! @s-onora asked for some fluffy middle-aged reddie smut with aftercare, I hope I delivered. This was incredibly fun to write and very different from most of the stuff I've put out thus far. I didn't realize how much tooth-rotting fluff could heal my soul. :') Summary: “Richie had won life’s lottery. He’s not sure how it happened, and he certainly had his fair share of bullshit before getting where he is now, but if Richie were asked in this very moment how he felt about his life, he would be confident in saying it was pretty much perfect.” Pairing: Reddie Rating: E Warnings: Smut, explicit language

Read on AO3

Richie had won life’s lottery. He’s not sure how it happened, and he certainly had his fair share of bullshit before getting where he is now, but if Richie were asked in this very moment how he felt about his life, he would be confident in saying it was pretty much perfect.

He’s managed to lock down a fairly satisfying career doing standup, though the world of entertainment is always a bit unsteady, he’s made enough friends in the industry that he’s found himself always having something lined up.

He owns a small house in a surprisingly suburban neighborhood. Although he’s located in the big city, he still managed to find the one area that was reminiscent of the small town he’d grown up in.

And finally, the thing that made life even worth living, is that he married his best friend, Eddie Kaspbrak.

Richie knew it was cliche; closeted gay kid has crush on best friend. But the difference between him and a cheesy romcom plot line is that it actually worked out for him. For them. Because unbeknownst to him at the time, Eddie was living the exact same platitude.

It’s not as if things fell into place right away. Richie and Eddie both had their own journeys to fulfill, and unfortunately those journeys pushed them apart for a while. Richie had accepted his sexuality long before Eddie, and it scared him off for a few years. In that time, Richie reeled as he watched Eddie get married to a woman, one as vile as his mother at that, and live a seemingly perfect life.

It took almost a decade for them to screw their heads on the right way and stop denying their life long languish. Of course they stayed in contact because of their friends, consistent in group chats, wishing each other a happy birthday on Facebook once a year, but that was about it… Until Ben and Beverly decided to get married.

That night, Eddie had admitted to Richie that weddings made bile rise up in his throat, reminded him of his own terrible ceremony and everything that had come after it. That night, they had their very first kiss. Their very first confession. It marked the beginning of everything coming together.

Now, merely five years later, Richie got to come home to Eddie every single day. He got to kiss those rounds cheeks, hear that melodic laugh, and listen to that neurotic voice whenever he wanted to, and he’s never been happier.

Today, like most days, wasn’t particularly remarkable, but Richie still strode home with a small hop to his step in anticipation of seeing Eddie. He stopped at a small flower stand on the way, picking up a bouquet of yellow roses that he knew Eddie would turn his nose up at, pivoting around quickly to hide the blush that painted his cheeks. Eddie hated gestures like that, but in the kind of way where he actually loved them.

By the time Richie got to their front door he was practically vibrating with excitement. He was a hopeless romantic who was living in his dream world; who could blame him?

As soon as Richie entered his house his senses searched for any signs of Eddie. He couldn’t see him, or hear him, but he could smell something coming from the kitchen that gave him good enough of a clue to check there first.

Toeing off his shoes, he placed them gently on the rack inside the coat closet (one of Eddie’s house rules was that Richie had to tone down his messiness to a slightly less chaotic level.) Richie rocketed down the hallway and used his now sock clad feet to slide across the linoleum floor of the kitchen, only regretting it slightly when he slid too far and his hip bone collided with the counter.

His impact was what alerted Eddie to Richie’s presence, the smaller man reacting with a jump and a small scolding of Richie’s name.

“Sorry Eds, didn’t mean to startle you.” Richie couldn’t say it with a straight face, his smile no doubt making his apology seem insincere, but he knew Eddie didn’t mind.

Richie strode forward, meeting Eddie in the middle of the kitchen and presenting the bouquet of flowers to him. As expected, Eddie scoffed and immediately moved to turn away, but Richie caught his chin and pulled him into a kiss instead. He felt Eddie melt beneath him, probably melted a bit himself if he was honest, and when he pulled away that familiar blush was there to validate him; roses were a good idea.

He placed the bouquet on the counter, making a mental note to put them in a vase as soon as he was done soaking up his boyfriend’s attention.

“Wacha making? Smells good.” Richie noted, coming up behind Eddie and wrapping his arms around his waist.

“It was supposed to be a lasagna, but it’s looking more like charred volcanic rock.”

“Mmm, I’ve always wanted to expand my taste buds.”

“Well this won’t do anything but destroy your taste buds.” Eddie admonished.

The timer rang out, signaling the end of the lasagna’s cook time. Richie peered over at their (admittedly, probably too old) oven, and back at Eddie with a cocked eyebrow. “I guess it’s time to find out.” Richie smirked.

Eddie unstuck himself from Richie and turned everything off. He grabbed the oven mitts Mike had bought them for Christmas, cute little pieces designed to look like turtles, and pulled his dish out of the oven.

He set it on the stovetop with a clunk, and Richie gathered beside him to gaze down at the very sad looking pasta dish.

Somehow it was burnt and soupey at the same time, but Eddie had put so much effort into it, so Richie still pulled a small piece of noodle off the top and popped it in his mouth.

It was hard enough to imitate uncooked pasta, and it had an ash-like taste that reminded Richie of the times Bev and him used to sneak behind their school and share a cigarette she’d smuggled from her aunt’s purse, but as he continued to chew it seemed to dissolve into goo.

But still, he smiled, cheery as ever as he gazed down at a hopeful Eddie.

“You’re gonna die from food poisoning.” Eddie said worriedly.

“In that case, can we make tonight memorable?” Richie joked, pressing himself into the slot against Eddie’s back that allowed him to rest his head on that tiny shoulder. With no response from Eddie, he nosed at his cheek and added “It wasn’t that bad”.

“Shut up.” Eddie grumbled.

“Seriously! I mean it’s no chinese food but-”

“We can’t order chinese food every night Richie.”

“How do you know? Has a man ever tested that theory?”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly, pouting in the way he always did when trying to seem serious.

“Fine, I’ll find something else to eat then.” Richie rocked them back and forth slowly, dipping down and trailing light kisses along Eddie’s neck. “Something sexier.” Richie whispered into Eddie’s ear.

Eddie snorted, turning himself around in Richie’s arms and draping his own over Richie’s shoulders.

“My boyfriend thinks I’m sexier than lasagna, I’m flattered.”

Richie grabbed Eddie’s ass playfully, pulling him flush against his chest.

“Just wait until you hear my dirty talk.” Richie teased. They both fell into lighthearted giggles, Eddie letting himself relax into Richie’s hold. Richie moved his hands up to the small of Eddie’s back, rubbing gentle circles into the exposed skin where Eddie’s shirt had rode up.

“Well, let’s hear it then.” Eddie whispered lowly, peering up at Richie with mischief.

It didn’t take long for them to find themselves back in bed, tangled up in each other’s limbs. Richie had made good on his promise and was indulging himself in Eddie’s body, writhing into the bed for the friction he so desperately craved.

Richie loved a lot of things about Eddie; he loved the way Eddie's eyes would crinkle at the sides when he laughed, loved the small dimples in Eddie's lower back that he could trace with his fingers, loved the subtle bow in Eddie's legs that even he didn't notice, but Richie had been fixated on since they were children. So it was hard for Richie to say exactly what his favorite part of Eddie was, but it was no secret that Eddie's ass was a strong contender.

Eddie, unbeknownst to himself, was built like a god. His hips flared out into large globes that sloped down like scoops of ice cream beckoning Richie to take a bite. It drove Richie crazy, and it would probably be the cause of his (future) insanity if he wasn't able to indulge in his obsession. Luckily, Eddie liked getting his ass played with just as much as Richie liked playing with it.

Richie parted Eddie's cheeks gently, always handling him with care even in their rougher times. He got lost momentarily, staring at the pink pucker that had once been so forbidden, only allowed to be fantasized in Richie's shameful dreams. Eddie, however, was having none of Richie's preamble, and made sure Richie knew as much by pushing his hips back and whining impatiently.

Richie couldn't help but chuckle before obliging, leaning in to lick a hot stripe across Eddie's hole.

He earned an appraising moan in return. Grinning to himself, he went in for more. Eddie may have been the one receiving pleasure, but Richie got off on it just as much, if not more. He could probably cum just like this, completely untouched, just devouring Eddie's little body bit by bit. But he was only getting started.

He brought his index finger up to join his mouth, teasing Eddie's entrance with slight pressure. He alternated between his tongue and his finger, assaulting the area in waves. He'd prod at Eddie's hole with his finger while his tongue trailed up his perineum, then switch to fucking Eddie with his tongue while his hand idly worked his cock. It was a process that eventually left Eddie exactly how he wanted him: completely pliant and pleading.

Richie reached into their nightstand, easily grabbing their bottle of lubricant and bringing it to his side. He pumped it into his hand a couple times, coating his fingers generously before moving back down to his target, but a small hand stopped him.

“Rich…” Eddie started, voice wavering self consciously. Richie already knew what Eddie was gearing up to say. They’d been here many times before, but Eddie still got nervous when asking. Richie thought it was endearing that Eddie was still so shy about it.

“You wanna top?” Richie filled in the silence, making it a little easier for Eddie to get into it.

Eddie nodded, looking up at Richie through thick lashes and adding quickly “Only if you want to. I don’t mind bottoming if you’re not in the mood tonight”.

“And pass up a chance to get fucked by my literal wet dream of a man?” Richie used his lubed up hand to stroke Eddie’s cock, watching the sinful way Eddie’s eyes rolled back in his head at the extra stimulation.

Richie crowded into Eddie’s space, stilling his hand on the head of the flushed dick in his hold and only using his thumb to dip into the slit and rub through the pre-cum gathered there.

Richie was already practically in Eddie’s lap, so he took advantage of the position and splayed his legs out over Eddie’s, leaning back into the mattress with his forearm propping him up as the other snaked between his legs. He could feel the way Eddie’s thighs twitched under his own where their legs overlapped, but he stayed still, enthralled by the show Richie was about to put on.

He circled his own hole the way he did Eddie’s, only he didn’t tease himself or draw the process out like he would on his boyfriend. No, instead, he wasted no time in pushing one finger into himself straight up to the knuckle.

He heard Eddie’s shaky exhale and was empowered to continue. Richie wasn’t a stranger to this feeling; even when he topped Eddie usually had a finger in him, and Richie often played with himself while masturbating. However, he didn’t normally move this fast... but then again he didn’t normally have the promise of his boyfriend’s dick in his ass so today wasn’t a normal day.

Richie rocked down on his finger, relishing in the mild stretch. He continued to hump into his hand until he felt ready to add another finger, and that’s where he began to lose control.

The second finger felt mind-numbing, stirring up Richie’s consciousness until it was putty, his brain losing control only second to the feeling of pleasure he was chasing. He scissored his fingers, trying to open himself up as quickly as possible while still respecting his body’s limits.

“I love seeing you like this…” Eddie whispered, quiet enough that Richie wondered if he even meant to say it aloud.

“Yeah?” Richie goaded, spreading his legs a little bit further. “Like seeing me open myself up for you, baby?”

Eddie nodded, swallowing audibly in a way that made his adam's apple bob. Richie suddenly wanted to leave marks all over it.

“Come here.” Richie reached for Eddie's neck, pulling him down on top of him and going straight for that tantalizing neck. Richie’s legs ended up pushed up against his chest, a position that was sure to leave him with back issues in the morning, but for the moment it felt deliciously provocative.

As Richie marked Eddie up, he felt another hand join his own, teasing around his rim and making it very hard for him to concentrate on the hickies he was leaving. Before the fog could clear from his mind, Eddie was swatting Richie’s hand away, replacing it with three fingers of his own.

Richie cried out into Eddie’s collarbone, petering off into a wanton moan as the feeling of being split open traveled up his cock and down his legs. Eddie’s fingers were so much better than his own, working him open with precision that came from years of doing it to himself.

And then Eddie found his prostate, and Richie was pretty sure it was a self destruct button that caused the rest of his functioning brain to melt into sludge and pour out his ears.

He was gone, absolutely and completely subservient to Eddie’s touch. He could hear himself babbling, but wasn’t aware of what was coming out of his mouth. If he had to guess, it was probably garbled praise. Richie never could hold himself back from telling Eddie how good he made Richie feel.

“Please, Richie-” Eddie was breathing hard, his fingers moving double time inside Richie’s quickly stiffening body.

“Get your fucking cock in my ass now.” Richie ground out between clenched teeth.

Eddie replaced his fingers with his slicked up cock, moving the hand that had wound Richie up so tight to his hypersensitive dick. The touch made Richie hiss, but his jaw quickly fell open as Eddie pushed in, holding Richie tight at the base to keep him from cumming prematurely.

They both shuttered, a moment of pure bliss enveloping them. Eddie finally looked up to meet Richie’s eyes, want and hunger meeting love and devotion. Richie pulled him down into a searing kiss, moaning into Eddie’s mouth when he started moving his hips.

“You feel so good.” Eddie slurred against Richie’s lips. “So warm and tight, fuck Richie.”

Eddie was the perfect size to fill Richie up and hit all the right places. Each thrust let his cock rub up at a different angle, stimulating every nerve from Richie’s rim all the way up to his prostate. The sensation drove him wild, but what would be the death of him was the way Eddie looked hunched over him.

He could still see features of that young boy he fell in love with; the button of his nose, those big doe eyes, thin pink lips, and freckles that had no business being as cute as they were. But while Eddie had retained his cuteness factor, he’d also grown to be incredibly sexy. His chin had broadened, jaw getting stronger and cheekbones more defined. The loss of his baby fat had revealed new things for Richie to obsess over, and when he was leaning over Richie like this, sweat collected on his furrowed brow and tongue caught between his lips, Richie had a hard time keeping his obsessions at bay.

“How are you so fucking beautiful?” Richie murmured, not expecting a response.

Eddie picked up his pace, spurred on by Richie’s words. Richie had promised Eddie dirty talk, and he planned to deliver, no matter how difficult it was to form words while Eddie worked him towards orgasm.

“I love watching your cock slide into me, ahhhh, love the way you stretch me out.”

“God, Rich-” Eddie’s breath was speeding up, his pants becoming quicker with every thrust.

“Look at how well you work me over.”

Eddie’s eyes were screwed shut, his nostrils flared as he tried to slow himself down, but Richie didn’t want that. Richie wanted to watch Eddie come undone inside him.

“Look.” Richie repeated more insistently, squeezing Eddie’s thigh.

Eddie’s eyes popped open and immediately honed in on the spot where they were connected. He shuttered reflexively, a drawn out moan escaping him.

“Rich- I’m gonna cum, please-”

Richie snaked his hand down to his cock and began jerking it with abandon, giving Eddie the nod to let go.

Barely a few thrusts later and Eddie was emptying into Richie. He continued to pound into him even when his body went taut, moving through the stiffness to bring Richie to his own release.

The stimulation was overwhelming, Richie could feel the press of Eddie’s cock hammering into his prostate, the slide of his hand over his own cock, but what finally sent him over the edge was the feeling of Eddie’s cum seeping out of his hole as Eddie continued ramming into him.

Richie came with a quiet scream, his back arching as he tried to both get away from the feeling and get impossibly closer at the same time. He was wracked with emotion, tears flowing freely and a sob escaping him as he came down hard from the rush of endorphins.

Eddie pulled out of Richie, quickly crawling into his arms and shushing him with a soothing voice.

It wasn’t uncommon for Richie to cry after sex, so Eddie continued doing what he always did; staying close and making sure Richie knew he was there. Light touches, gentle whispers, anything to remind Richie that it was okay to feel overwhelmed.

It took a couple minutes for Richie to calm down, but his sobs slowly turned into sniffles and his arms eventually wrapped around Eddie.

“Have I told you I love you yet today?” Richie asked quietly, a dopey smile on his face.

“Three times this morning, twice at lunch, and once during downtime after your show.” Eddie counted off teasingly.

“Keeping track?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, burying his face back into Richie’s chest.

“I just like hearing it.” Eddie defended, voice half muffled.

“I like saying it.” Richie responded assuredly, placing a kiss atop the pillowy curls below him.

“I love you too.” Eddie murmured, the words coming out in a sigh of contentment.

“I’m so lucky to have you.” Richie whispered, his chest heavy with happiness.

“Luck has nothing to do with it; we were always going to end up together.”

[ifeellikeameowster]

E.V.O.L Chapter 3- Living Dead

Chapter Summary: After a bit of a rough morning, Virgil decides to visit the grave of his long dead best friend... Meanwhile, Patton has finally graduated and is ready to take on his first assignment as a newly appointed cupid!

Warnings: Beginnings of Yandere like behavior, stalking, watching other’s without them knowing, wounds, stabbing, blood.

Pairings: One-sided moxiety.

Word Count: 4k+

Chapter followed by Author’s Note then Tag List under the read more:

Everyday I feel the same.

Stuck, and I can never change.

Sucked into a black balloon.

Spat into an empty room.

The next day Virgil found himself waking before even the roosters themselves would have crowed.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes and cursing his wishy washy biological clock, he wondered if it was too early to grab a bite of breakfast. He had missed dinner the previous day, after all, having been too tired from being forced to socialize for so long with someone so new. His parents would probably understand if they caught him. They always did.

He shrugged and slung one of his lighter weighted blankets over his shoulders before taking a few shaky steps away from his bed. His legs felt like jello, making it tempting to just go back to the safety of his little nest and spend all day inside of his room. But the obnoxious rumbling of his ungrateful stomach made that nearly impossible. So to the kitchen it was instead.

Virge tried his best not to step on any creaky floorboards on his way out of his room and down the stairs. If his parents weren’t already awake, then he certainly didn’t want to be the loud, fumbling asshole that actually woke them up. Heaven knows they deserved all the rest they could get. They did so much for him. And for the whole neighborhood, for that matter.

Wonder if there’s any of those blueberry bagels left. He pondered as he descended the final step.

He went past the living room and into the kitchen, where upon after he entered, Virgil was immediately met with his answer.

“You’re up early, V.” Talyn said around a mouthful of their buttery bagel, “Can’t sleep?”

“More like slept too much.” Virgil corrected as he joined them at the breakfast bar.

Talyn was a Banshee, a wailing ghost that had the ability to warn others of approaching death.Though, they usually used their glorious screeching voice for the screamo parts of their band’s songs instead. Once in a blue moon however, especially back when Virgil had done something particularly rebellious when he was a teenager, he had had the pleasure of witnessing firsthand the more negative side to their voice. Between his maddy’s booming voice and the sad puppy dog eyes his pops had sent his way-it was easy to see why his version of a ‘rebellious phase’ had been cut short. 

“I’d chastise you for your poor sleeping habits but I’m honestly not one to speak myself.”

“You’re a ghost, you don’t even need to sleep.”

“And yet here we are.” They waved the hand holding the bagel, sending some crumbs flying, “With me taking afternoon naps and staying up all night like a heathen.”

“God, same.”

“We’ve rubbed off on you too much, little one.” Talyn chuckled, putting a hand on his shoulder, “Me and Joan. Why don’t you take after your papa more too?”

“Pops is too sunshiney for me, maddy. I’m half convinced he’s made of literal sunbeams at this point.” Virgil sneered out with a fond undertone as he gently lathered butter on his own bagel, “I’m more of a punk moonchild, ya’ know?”

Maddy was the affectionate nickname he had given Talyn as a kid. He was pleased to later find out that, unlike with dammy, other kids sometimes used maddy for their nonbinary parents too.

His maddy chuckled at that, patted his shoulder, then returned to devouring their own breakfast. They both sat in a comfortable, companionable silence for a while as they finished up their food and took in the morning sights through the wide kitchen window. Then as the birds started up their autumn songs and the sun started it’s slow trek over the horizon, they both got up to put away their trash and tidy their mess. As he was putting his blanket over the couch for later cuddling-while-watching-tv purposes, Virgil’s eyes unfortunately happened to land on the calendar hanging next to the entryway. The sight of a certain circled reminder of a date he had been trying to forget caused a past pain to resurface just as hot and stabbing as the first time it had ever appeared in his heart.

He reentered the kitchen with a familiar, haunting grimace. Talyn sent him a fleeting confused look before it morphed into one of understanding instead.

“It’s next week, isn’t it?” They breathed softly, “The anniversary.” Their tone held an unnecessary weight of guilt. For even though they were a Banshee, they had not been able to foresee that death. The most important one. The one that had hurt their child so much at such a young age.

“Yeah,” Virgil choked out, tears threatening to brim his eyes, “If...I’m being honest...I’m not sure if I can make it, this year.”

“Well maybe…” They bit their lip and shifted on their feet nervously, “Maybe you can just go now? It might be less pressure, if it’s not the day of.”

“I-I don’t know, maddy. I’m still kind of worn out from yesterday.”

“Ah, the matchmaker meeting. I almost forgot about that.” Talyn moved to lean back on the counter, “How did that go?”

Virge sucked in a breath, blinked away the wetness of his eyes, and thanked whatever higher power may be for the change of topic. “Terrible, I hate socializing. Also it felt like I was being hounded by a teacher with how many questions I was being asked.”

“He needs to ask questions, dear. How else would he know what you like?” They sent him a sympathetic smile that didn’t quite meet their eyes. The mood of the room was still soured by the date hanging ominously on the wall. Taunting them both with it’s ever approaching red circle.

“What I would like is to not have to go to these meetings at all.” Virgil whined. He hopped up to sit cross legged on the countertop beside his maddy. “Why’d you and dammy even talk to him anyways? I thought pops was just going through one of his romance craze phases again, but…”

“But, we all agreed it’s what’s best for you. It’s not healthy to only ever hang out with your family. You need to spread your wings, sweet little baby boy.”

“Ew, baby talk.” Virgil mimed throwing up before crossing his arms and pouting. “Why’s it gotta be some stupid dramatically set up romcom though? Can’t I just go to an online group chat for depressed-emos-anonymous or something?”

Talyn did a laugh somewhere between a giggle and a chortle at that. They playfully swiped at his shoulder. “No, you idiot. Just listen to your parents, okay? It’s time. Way past time, actually…”

“Time to what? Get some?”

“Find someone to love. Someone to...give your feelings too.”

“I give mushy lovey dovey stuff to y’all all the time!”

“Not like that, V. To…” They tapped a frustrated rhythm onto the countertop with their long, pointed nails. “To obsess over. To be attracted to and fawn over. Stuff like that.”

“To bone.”

“Virgil!”

“What? That’s the only difference, ain’t it?” He sighed as he leaned over to place his head on their shoulder. “Why can’t platonic love be enough? I've been doing just fine with just that…”

“Honey…” They let out a sigh of their own before running a reassuring hand through his hair. “That may have been enough until now, but trust me you need this.” The soothing touch of their petting almost calmed  him, until- “We need this.” They ended in a strained whisper, yet unfortunately still loud enough for him to hear.

Virgil jolted away from Talyn and off the counter as if he’d been burned. “What? You’re...You’re all trying to pawn me off or something? Finally tired of me being a fucking mooch?”

“No, no- Little one, that’s not what I-”

“Well if I’m such a leech, maybe I will go hang out in the graveyard with the rest of the rotten worms.”

The tears that had pricked at his eyes earlier decided to return, yet once more he held back the flow of the damn. His eyes reddened with the strain of the repression. Still, he refused to cry around others. Weakness was an ugly shade of color to wear. He wanted to toss out all of his flaws from the closet of his inner self and go shopping for better traits. But maybe, he couldn’t help but think...he was the one that needed to be tossed out right along with them.

Got bubble wrap around my heart.

Waiting for my life to start.

But everyday it never comes.

Permanently at square one.

“Tell the others I’ll be at the church.” He snapped instead as he rounded the corner and stomped up the stairs. He no longer cared if he woke anyone else up. His body was brimming with aggravated energy and his mind was swirling with all the possible negative implications of those few simple whispered words.

The day had barely begun and he already had a massive headache.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After having haphazardly thrown on the nearest clean clothes he could find and all but running out of his house and into the nearly empty street, save for a lone old maid that was bird watching on a nearby bench, he began to make his way over to the cemetery.

On his way there he stopped by Fauna's Florals to pick up a small bouquet of soft and pale yellow roses, the flower of friendship, because that's what he had been to him- the truest friend he would probably ever have. Besides his family, of course, though they were kind of obligated to hang out with him. And he was beginning to wonder if even that reliable, familial obligation had started outstaying it’s welcome.

Miss Fauna, having noticed his red rimmed eyes, had given him a sympathetic smile and a pat on his hand as she handed over the bouquet. He shied away from the unwanted contact and thanked her in a small voice. It was the loudest one he could muster at the time.

When it's late at night-ight,

I'm so dissatisfied-ied.

The weight of an empty life-ife,

Will lessen in the moonlight.

In the light,

In the light,-light,-light.

Shooting Star Cemetery was luckily located in the next street over, making it an easy and short walk. Yet not nearly a long enough a walk to clear his head any from the raging storm it currently housed inside. The graves were all well kept and neatly aligned. The landscaping was done with care and sheer professionalism. The overall atmosphere was more bright and welcoming than one would expect a place housing the dead could ever be.

Virgil moved past the groundskeeper with quick steps, not wanting to have to engage in any conversation with the man whose smile always seemed to stretch too far over his face and whose eyes appeared to linger on his form for too long. Especially not today of all days. He thought as the conversation from earlier resurfaced in his mind. Fresh and unwanted.

His feet took him to his destination almost on autopilot. He had been visiting this particular grave at least once a year for almost seventeen years now. Of course it would be practically hardwired into his system at this point.

“Hey, buddy.” He called out wearily as he approached. Virge leaned over to place the bouquet of yellow roses directly in front of the ivory gravestone before stepping back to sit on the grass across from it.

The stone was the lightest of the ones in its row, almost basking it in an ethereal spotlight. The carvings of angels, ribbons, and roses around it’s surface only accentuated the holy glow. In the dead center, carved in looping and elegant cursive writing, was the epitaph.

It read,

“Patton Sangster:

A young Cherub bright and fair,

Taken from this world too soon.

Now he is way up there,

Dancing between the Sun and the Moon.”

Definitely more fancy and vague than most of the epitaphs around here. Virgil mused, Then again Mrs. Songster was always the poetic dreamer type.

While on the other hand, if he had a gravestone, it would probably say something like "Here lies Virgil Spurling: What an idiot" or "Virgil Spurling: Died of Depression and General Dumbassery".

He let out a long sigh and curled his legs underneath him while crossing his arms. “You wouldn’t believe the week I’ve had, Pat.” He began, “I think my parents have lost their ever loving marbles. Don’t get me wrong or anything- I love them a bunch. But I just don’t...I just don’t get why they’re doing this, ya’ know?”

“They’re insisting I see this stupid matchmaking witch doctor guy, who probably thinks I’m a loser by the way-he seemed kinda stuck up and I kept making a fool of myself as per usual. And like they want me to get hitched to some dude ASAP I guess so I can ‘spread my wings’? Whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean?”

He started waving his arms around to accentuate his ranting, ”But a part of me can’t help but think they’re just trying to get rid of me. Just pawn me off to a random guy so I can be out of their hair! But they...They’ve never said or done anything like that before...They’ve always been so nice to me and so supportive and so loving so I just don’t…”

Now, in the sanctum of this empty cemetery and the equally emptily promised presence of his only friend, he finally let the tears fall quietly and slowly down his ever reddening cheeks. “I just don’t get it anymore, Patton. Nothing makes sense. It hasn’t for a long time now. Ever since...ever since high school, really. And I just…”

“I just wish you were still here.” He hissed into the morning air as he closed his eyes and let his eyes finish emptying themselves so he could hopefully return home with them dry and pretend that they had never been crying in the first place.

From several yards away the groundskeeper stole glances at the strange visitor as he worked his usual surveyal of the grounds. However, his gleaming, unwelcome eyes were not the only pair that happened to be following Virgil that day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Patton Sangster, newly appointed cupid under Eros, had just finished the last of his angelic training and was lined up with the rest of the lucky graduates about to receive their first heavenly assignments.

Finally! He cheered in his head. A chance to prove that all of his training wasn't for nothing. He may be light hearted, but he certainly wouldn't take his heavenly duties lightly. He would prove without a doubt that being soft hearted didn’t mean he was weak. Far from it in fact. He considered the overflowing love he had in his heart to be his greatest and most cherished source of strength.

Little did the little cupid know just yet, but that unbridled and passionate love of others would soon be his very downfall.

I'm living dead, dead, dead, dead.

Only alive-live-live-live.

When I pretend-tend-tend-tend.

That I have died, died, died, died, died, died.

An elder, more experienced cupid passed back and forth in front of the recruits with a golden clipboard they had summoned. Odiel, patron cupid of dark love ballads, was surprisingly the one giving the assignments to the newbies this year. He listed off each angel and their assignment with a resigned sigh and dramatic flip of the page. He went through many graduates before finally getting to Patton, which had caused the poor angel to bounce nervously on his feet.

"Patton Sangster?"

"Yes, that's me!" He nodded eagerly with a dazzling grin.

"Hm." His superior clicked his tongue before looking at his clipboard. "No official angel name given yet. No patron title earned yet."

Patton's eager expression flickered, a brief frown gracing his features before they turned back into his patton-ted steadfast smile.

"We'll just assign you to your old hometown during life, then. And see where it goes from there."

Patton gasped, bringing his hands up to cup his face. "Heartwish City?!"

Odiel pauses for a moment to check another page on their clipboard. "...Yes."

"Yay! Oh, I can't wait to see everyone again! And help them out!"

"Mhmm. Well, you will have to wait a bit more. There's still orientation to get through."

"Oh, of course." His smile turns more nervous, "Yes, sir."

And with that, the rest of the graduates were assigned before they all headed over to the orientation stadium.

The clouds are thicker and fluffier around the stadium, which is covered in red, pink, and white decorations and gold trimmings. Eros himself stands on a stage floating gently above them. Some of his more well known cupids fly  beside him and his effervescent presence. They give the awaiting crowd reminders of what-to-do's and what-not-to-do's before Eros finally speaks.

"Today is the day you truly become cupids. Go forth and spread love, devotion and admiration wherever you may fly to. Prove your loyalty both to me and to my almighty mother Aphrodite. Be the best angel you can be." He intones in a booming voice accompanied by grand hand gestures. He then bows his head toward the crowd of new cupids in respect and waves them off, officially dismissing them to their new posts.

Patton, having been absolutely jittery with excitement throughout the whole orientation, immediately flaps his small, pink and blue hummingbird like wings and takes off into the early morning sky.

His flight time is shortened by both his familiarity with the destination and his newly appointed status. So much so that to any outside spectator, he would have arrived there in the bat of an eyelash.

As he glided over his old town, he spotted several people he once new. Miss Fauna was putting up a new display in front of her flower shop. Tia and Ana were putting up an ad for their speciality tea of the day. Dr Picani was leaving the Blue Fairy Therapy building while glancing at his watch. And many, many more lovely and well missed faces.

But the one he had missed most of all was currently over at the Shooting Star Cemetery, sitting criss-crossed applesauce right in front of his grave.

Sure, he hadn't seen them in over seventeen years, not since their childhood together. But he would be able to recognize that pale face and protective spirit anywhere! This was his best friend we were talking about, after all. And Patton never took his friendships lightly. So he did a spiraling turn in the air to change directions for this newfound destination. He could worry about his other duties later, he had a dear friend to visit!

He hovered over the cemetery like an excited bee hovering over a group of flowers, staying close to the sparse clouds strewn about the glorious sunrise. Not only had Virgil grown up healthily, but he had even remembered him! And was currently paying respects to his grave, apparently. He leaned forward and focused his hearing on the sounds happening down below him.

"You wouldn't believe the week I've had, Pat." Oh dear, what could have happened? Is whatever it was the reason he was visiting? "I think my parents have lost their ever loving marbles. Don’t get me wrong or anything- I love them a bunch. But I just don’t...I just don’t get why they’re doing this, ya’ know?”

What could they have possibly done? Patton remembered Virgil's parents, three queer platonic partners who had always adored their son. They were loved by the whole neighborhood and Patton himself had also enjoyed their company whenever he had visited Virgil's house for playdates and sleepovers. He couldn't imagine them ever doing anything to harm their beloved child! But, if they had hurt Virgil somehow…

“They’re insisting I see this stupid matchmaking witch doctor guy," Ohhh! A matchmaker, huh? Virgie really had grown up! It seemed like just yesterday the two of them were talking about the other boys possibly having cooties during recess. "Who probably thinks I’m a loser by the way-he seemed kinda stuck up and I kept making a fool of myself as per usual." Well that didn't seem very nice of whoever this matchmaker fellow was. Patton would never think of his assignments as losers...everyone was equally deserving of love after all!

"And like they want me to get hitched to some dude ASAP I guess so I can ‘spread my wings’? Whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean?” Wait just a minute...Matchmaker...Wings...Patton was a cupid now! Duh. The solution was obvious!

Patton puffed up his chest and fluttered his wings excitedly. He could be Virgil's new, better matchmaker. And nothing would make Pat more happy than having his childhood friend being his first assignment as an official cupid. It was all falling into place so well, almost like destiny! But Virgil was talking again now, so Patton tuned back in.

”But a part of me can’t help but think they’re just trying to get rid of me. Just pawn me off to a random guy so I can be out of their hair! But they...They’ve never said or done anything like that before...They’ve always been so nice to me and so supportive and so loving so I just don’t…”

Ahhh, this was all Virgie's anxiety getting to him again. He had always been a worrywart, even back when they were kids. He guessed some things never changed, not even when it had been so many years. Back then, Patton had always tried to ease his worries and be the most supportive friend he could be. But even at his best and most empathetic, he had been far too young to quite comprehend the full depths of Virgil's emotions.

He looked back at Virgil only to find tears running down his cheeks now, marring his dark eyeshadow. Oh dear sweet Aphrodite- he was crying! “I just don’t get it anymore, Patton. Nothing makes sense. It hasn’t for a long time now. Ever since...ever since high school, really. And I just…”

Highschool? What had happened in high school? Did someone hurt his dearest friend while he wasn't there to protect him? Patton leaned even more forward and gripped the clouds nervously.

“I just wish you were still here.”

Patton froze. Only holy magic and his grip on the clouds keeping him in the air.

I lay back in a glittering mist,

And I, I think of all the men I, I could have kissed.

I haven't lived my life, I haven't lived love,

It's just a bird's eye view from, from up above.

A part of him wished he was still there too. And that same part of him wished he had been there beside Virgil through it all. Had been there in highschool to prevent whatever it was that had hurt his Virgie. Had been there to tell that rude matchmaker off for him. Had been there to give him a lesson in proper etiquette and respect towards his clients. Had been there to help his parents find a better matchmaker. And even to help Virgil pick only the best partner for a great guy like him.

He released a breath he didn't even know he was holding in the first place. But he was here now! And he could help him now!

Now filled to the brim with determination- He hurriedly fumbled to summon his bow and quiver, which he had been storing in his Grace, and pulled out a red romantic arrow from the bag. In his haste, however, he had nicked the side of his arm with the tip of it. He paused to look at the offending wound, wondering if a nick was considered the same thing as a pierce. It wasn't, right? He didn't remember them saying anything about scratches while in the heavenly academy. Oh well, it was probably nothing to worry about! It hadn't come anywhere near his heart, after all.

Besides, Patton had much more pressing matters to attend to. And a heart that needed a connection only he could create was waiting for him. A connection that would transcend the very heavens themselves! Pat would definitely find Virgil a beloved partner that could kiss his many worries away. Many, many kisses. Kisses for that kissable mouth...and soothing voice...and soft looking cheeks…and pale, elegant hands...

Patton shook his head furiously to rid himself of those lucrative thoughts. Sure, Virgil had grown up handsomely, yeah. But this was Patton's best friend he was talking about! How could he be thinking such scandalous and traitorous things? Besides, he had chosen Virgil for his very first assignment. He had to be more professional than that! He had to prove himself a worthy cupid both to Eros himself and to his fellow angels.

He moved to expertly draw his bow, with the same arrow that had previously drawn his blood, poised in the direction of the huddled figure below him. Just as he was about to finally fire, however…He heard it.

"Patton." Just a whisper. A whimper through tears. Just a mumble amidst other unintelligible cries of sorrow.

And yet it felt like a shout. A cry for help. A plea for him. It rang through Patton's ears with the force of a hurricane and knocked him off of his balance.

The arrow cracked and twisted off it's place on the bow and turned to stab through his heart.

He choked on the blood that had bubbled up into his throat and desperately pawed at the arrow lodged accidentally into his most valuable organ.

The words of one of his superior angels and teacher, Balladeil, flared up into his mind. A cupid was not meant to take a cupid's arrow. A cupid's arrow was not made to be used on a cupid.

"Oh Eros!" He cried "Oh no!"

He grabbed at the arrow and started yanking on it. Trying to pull it out of his chest. But it was being stubborn, latching onto his Grace and using that to keep ahold of him. More blood gushed from the wound only to be consumed by his Grace as it tried to heal him from the intrusion. Tears started pouring from Patton's eyes to match Virgil's.

Then, before he knew it, the arrow had melted into his heart and merged into his Grace. And the connection had been completed.

Patton stared dumbfoundedly at the clean space where it used to be for several solid minutes. The wounds were completely healed now and the blood was all gone. It was too late. He had been too late. He had failed.

He took a shaky breath and moved to collect his bow and quiver.

He stored them carefully back into his Grace.

He looked back down at Virgil, who was getting up from the ground now.

He flew slowly over the graveyard as Virgil walked hurriedly past the leering groundskeeper.

He followed Virgil silently all the way back to his home, often passing by a strange crow that happened to be on the same flight path as him.

He watched over Virgil for the rest of the day and way on into that night.

Did I really deserve it?

It happens when you're hurting.

And cut me at the surface,

Of my heart.

Of my heart-heart-heart.

A/N: Patton, you darling idiot. You would have been fine if you weren’t so clumsy. X3 Anyways, hope y’all enjoyed! The next fic I’ll post will be that Creativitwins one shot I mentioned earlier. And then it’ll be right back into the E.V.O.L au! ;3

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