#local idiot sad

[moss-sauce]

life really fucking sucks right now

[pluviatrix]

just gave fen two little baby teeth and it made me so emotional i had to just sit there in silence for a bit. he doesn't even have top teeth bro. bro he can't masticate an apple.

[pepprs]

ok. it’s over. and i am alone in the world 🤑🤸🏻‍♀️

[catcatb0y]

Local idiot artist made Sad because a drawing made them think about Life.

[caelcstis]

gods will always remember how obsessed i was when i found knk (and still listen to them even with the loss of the majority of the members, i hear they're getting a new boy too) and how much i loved seoham's stupid lil laughs and how much of a big bully (in the most gentlest and platonic, big brother way possible) and a baby he was to the other members and everyone just let him despite he was the second eldest and eventually the eldest before leaving. he was just the member that sucked me into that group so badly, always watched their knk tv's. he will always be my precious meow meow even after five years and two?? three years?? of the group being stagnant and him leaving to pursue acting instead

[yurinaa-world]

“𝒴𝑜𝓊’𝓇𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒸𝓊𝓉𝑒 𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝓀𝒾𝒹!”

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Jiaoqiu, Moze, Aventurine, & Sunday x Gender-Neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: he's turned into a kid?

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling Mistakes

💫𝒥𝒾𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓊 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔"

“Jiaoqiu, that's enough sweets for you.”

You're worried, truly. Jiaoqiu has this insane sweet tooth, at this rate, when he turns back into an adult his teeth will be black, sore, and full of cavities by then and of course, you’ll be to blame for being unable to resist his cuteness.

His tail sinks and his ears frown down whilst he sits on the stool with his head down in sadness while you lecture him about his health and give him restrictions. Child Jiaoqiu doesn’t know better at all, refusing to talk or do anything after this revelation came out. (he burns his mouth as an adult & numbs his moth as a kid, how ironic)

He thinks you’re just a jerk, ruining his fun and not having any kind of love for him left so he returns you the same attitude (even though you're doing it for his sake). Huffing while putting the candy on a tall cabinet. “Come on, Let's go get dinner.” you offered, after a sigh left your lips at the grimace look he had on yet even with this offer he refused, snapping his head to the side and not even looking back. 

“I’m not going, not unless you give me my candy back.”

Well, you can see his eyes shifting to the side, seeing if you cared enough to listen to his little demands of wanting Cavities and landing himself in a Yaoqing local dentist's office because of your weakness for his pleads. BUT, not this time, no way are you letting him have his way.

“Jiaoqiu,” you mumbled his name as you walked over to him, your tall figure looming over him, casting a shadow which even caused him to be frightened. Staring back up with doe eyes before shutting them the instant you raised your hand.

“Stop it!” he wined, feeling your finger gently pinch and pull at his ear in discipline, while you grinned down at him before your other hand went to touch his stomach which caused him to jerk back a little. 

“You better be grateful that I love you so much or else I would have let you riot your stomach away with those sweets.”

💫𝑀𝑜𝓏𝑒 “𝒮𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓌 𝒢𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔”

He looked so cute! His little form hiding in the corner while glaring at you with such weary, that you might just shatter from it. He looked so cute as a kid! But Moze turning into a little kid wasn’t what you expected but here you are, sitting a bit far from the corner, and refusing to leave him.

His one arm had bandages on it, several bandaids everywhere, along with cloth taped onto his cheek. A sad appearance that an ordinary child shouldn’t have but it’s Moze and you already have an idea of what kind of life he’s lived.

Smiling at him every time he moves his head up to look up at you, which causes him to just glare and lay his face back onto the knees he’s brought close to his chest.

“Your smile makes you look stupid,” he mumbled the sound of his voice slightly muffled by his knees.

Wow…you can’t help but be left speechless by his words, Moze had never once insulted you—in his words, he would rather die than do something like that. Yet with this predicament he’s in, you’ll let it go (and his cute face).

“Does it make me seem less threatening to you?”

“Don’t think I’ve let my guard down, it’s always the idiots that are most threatening.” He begins going on a rant, you’re not even sure what he’s going on about but it’s just like any other kid with a hyper fixation on things, and he’s prepared to scare you on everything.

“It’s known that you should never suck the poison out of a wound with your mouth….”

It just gives you an opening to get closer to him.

Like a snake in the bushes, you get close enough to the corner, trapping him there. He let his guard down! Clenching his teeth waiting for your next action and thinking how he’ll counter it if he could.

“You're so cute, Moze!” You gush, wrapping your arms around his neck while rubbing your cheek against his and giving him loving kisses all over his face. He’s in complete shock, eyes wide with his mouth agape while his body freezes at your actions.

“I could just take you away!”

your approach is odd...It must be love bombing! people like you don’t exist and like a fool stated your reason! Wait you’re taking it a bit too far! Stop smothering his face with kisses!

💫𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝐼𝒫𝒞 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝑔𝒾𝒸 𝐼𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒟𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉”

“It’s so cold.”

He was adorable, his beautiful eyes had so much life to them, cute face, he wore rags for clothes while hugging his shivering body to keep himself warm in some way, which broke your heart.

 “Is it cold? wait for a second!” You immediately run to get a blanket to warm him up with, wrapping it around him and making sure no air gets in. Watching him still shiver in the blanket, it would take time for him to even warm up in the first place, Yet you hear his sniffles and slight whines.

Which causes you to do the only thing you can.

Firmly holding Aventurine close to you, having him in your lap, you hugged him very close as if he would slip away. Taking your hand and touching his smaller ones, the cold flesh made you shiver as well, like a shock when you first touched, both of your body temperatures clashed.

He enjoyed it while you shivered.

“Do you feel less cold now?” You smile at him, watching him hold your hand close to his body so he can feel the heat more.

“It feels so nice. Thank you.”

He smiled back at you, and your smile got wider, feeling the connection between the two of you. Watching his eyes quickly begin to droop, sleep taking him away while keeping him in your lap, and gently caressing his head.

“I’ll take care until you turn back, even if it takes forever.”

💫𝒮𝓊𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒪𝒶𝓀 𝐹𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓎"

Watching little Sunday gush over a simple picture book you had lying around, looking at it with stars in his eyes, and going “ah” or “oooh” while his wings flipped when tiny twists happened in the story. It's too cute! It's good that he took a day off but not when he was turned into a little kid! And it’s not like you can make him go to work like this, can you?

“On Friday he ate through five oranges, but he was still hungry.” he reads, a confused expression plaguing his face, while he takes in the words

“He eats so much? (Name), do you know why he eats so much?” 

His question might’ve just gone in one ear and out the other, watching his confused expression while his wings flapped, It’s too cute! 

Normal Sunday is always to control himself in every situation, never letting himself go in front of anyone else but you and his wings are a big part which causes him to restrain himself to the fullest extent.

The second he sees you staring at his wings for a tad bit longer than you should have, his cheeks turn a rosy pink color—feeling insecure about your gaze on him, his hands going to his wings, gently touching the feather while shifting his gaze to the side in pure embarrassment.

“Is there something wrong with my wings? Are they ugly?” He moped, which made you immediately reassure him. “Of course not! You're so adorable in every way!” you sputtered, trying your best to make him feel better, which made you calm down when his expression twisted into a gleeful expression.

“Really you think so?” he chirped, losing his attention from the book he was reading, it seemed like he wanted to hear more sugary compliments.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[peony-always]

Dial Drunk

wolverine/logan howlett x afab!reader

words - 4k

tags: dp&w!Logan, damsel(ish)!reader, angst angst angst (he has so much potential as a sad wet tomcat), feelings (Logan isn't good at them), use of alcohol, canon-typical violence, !attempted assault!, implied assault

quick an: this is my first full fic!! the ghost of Logan's past hovered over my shoulder as I wrote this, loosely based on Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan but it's more of just an inspiration border creds to @/bunnysrph

Logan was pissed. Furious. He was so overwhelmingly angry with himself that his claws had extended and for a while, he couldn’t retract them. He finally got them to slide back under his skin when the cop standing outside his holding cell door threatened to put him in with the general population if he didn’t put his ‘weapons’ away.

That was the last thing he needed right now. He was already on edge, and being surrounded by people who hated him just for who he was would probably be his last straw. He sighed, slumping back against the dirty concrete wall behind him. He rubbed his temples, taking a few deep breaths to calm his once again rising anger.

He understood why he was in that stupid cell. Bar fights were enough to get a normal person arrested for being drunk and disorderly, but cops were always especially ready to arrest a mutant. He hated that he had let his animalistic side get him here, proving them right about how dangerous he was, but he could only take so much of that stupid guy in the booth behind him spewing ant-mutant hatred right in his face.

“Damn liquor,” Logan thought to himself as his head continued to throb. That in and of itself was enough to make him upset, as he was typically so well acquainted with alcohol that it never got to him. Tonight, however, he had drunk way more than usual, throwing back shots in the dingy bar a few blocks from his apartment as quickly as the bartender could pour them up.

The idiotic man he had beaten at the bar wasn’t the true cause of his anger though. That honor fell to his stupid, stupid brain. It was after the cops had wrangled him and shoved him into their stuffy, too-small cruiser that Logan had made his infuriating error.

The driving officer, a short and stocky man with a pudgy face, had looked back at him from the rearview mirror and said,” The guy you were fightin’, George, he ain’t gonna press charges on ya. He’s in and outta the lockup every other week, and he ain’t gonna be lookin’ for any more trouble than he’s already in. Plus, I think you’re more of a danger to yourself than to anybody else, goin’ around that drunk. You ain’t caused any trouble before, but we still gotta bring you in. Procedure, ya know. Got anybody you want us to call to pick ya up?”

Logan hadn’t even thought about it before your name came spilling from his lips. He hadn’t even realized what he said until they arrived at the jail and the pudgy cop pulled him from the back seat. “Her? Really?” the cop said, suspicion heavy in his voice. “She babysits my kids on the weekends, didn’t know she associated with drunk fighters like you.”

Logan snarled on instinct as he heard the inherent prejudice in the cop's voice before he realized who the cop was talking about. ‘No,’, he thought. ‘God, no.’ He hadn’t seen you in months, and he hadn’t been planning on seeing you ever again. He didn’t know why he didn’t tell the cop he wanted to change his call. He could have gotten him to phone Wade or Laura, they would have picked him up in a heartbeat. 

Maybe he didn’t say anything because he wanted to see you, to make sure you were okay after the long months you had spent apart. Or maybe he was just still drunk, forgetting the past and wanting you to take him home with you, to let him have his seat on the couch while he sobered up, drinking your fruity teas and eating the sickeningly sweet cookies you always bought from the local bakery. “Too much sugar and you’ll rot your teeth out,” he’d tell you with a lopsided smile, knowing how you’d respond. Every time he said it you’d prance up to him and poke a finger into his chest, grinning,” You’re already so sweet that my teeth ache, so what does more sugar hurt?” And then you’d lean up, pecking him on the lips as you move to go back to your tasks. 

His heart ached as that memory resurfaced and his head fell to join his back against the unforgiving chill of the cell wall. He tried to fight it (no he didn’t), but his drink-addled brain was unable to stop the memories of you from flooding back into his system.

Your first meeting, a year ago that felt more like ten since you had left. Logan had been stalking his way down the street, huffing and puffing, pissed at Wade for inviting people over and blaring music when he had known that day was Logan’s only day off for two weeks. He had grabbed his jacket and stormed out into the chilly New York evening, turning left outside their apartment as he made his way toward the nearest bar. He craved a stiff drink, damn Wade and Laura had hidden all of the alcohol in the house from him. They told him he needed to dry out, and he did. He knew it as well as everyone else, but it was hard. After years of drowning his guilt and grief in drink, it made him nervous to let go, to face his days head-on instead of looking at them from the syrupy brown lens of his old friend whiskey.

It was on his way to the bar that he heard it. A muffled cry, the sound of flesh hitting concrete, a grunt of pain. He took off in the direction of the sound, his hyper-sensitive nose smelling the fear lacing the air the closer he got to a dingy alley two streets over. As he rounded the corner, he saw you. Your hands were bound behind your back and there was a gag stuffed in your mouth. Your eyes pled with Logan to save you as your attacker dragged you across the ground, mumbling and lurching back and forth as he pulled you along,” Stupid fuckin’ whore. Women. Always gettin’ in the way of what I deserve. Maybe I’ll put you in the dumpster when I’m done with you, let you rot with the flies.” 

Logan’s nostrils flared as he surged forward, yanking your leg from the man’s grip and pushing you further away as your attacker spun to face him. “What the-” was all the scumbag got out before Logan clocked him, knocking him out with one punch. He really wanted to keep beating on the guy, but his enhanced hearing had him turning toward you as you shuddered, whimpers escaping the gag as tears rolled down your face.

He held his hands up, approaching slowly and kneeling on the dirty ground in front of you and gently pulling the gag from your mouth as you squeezed your eyes shut. You let out shuddering sobs as he reached around you to loosen your bindings, careful not to touch you more than he had to. He had experienced more than his fair share of trauma, and he knew how hard it could be to have someone be so close to you when you were going through it, so he made sure to lean back as soon as he had freed you.

However, you immediately proved his assumption wrong. You slumped down against him, your hands fisting his t-shirt as you sniffled and coughed. “Thank-thank you.” you stuttered as you tried to calm yourself. “Thank you so, so much.” Logan tentatively reached around you to pat your back,” You’re welcome, bub. Just doin’ what needed to be done.” As his hand tapped out a soothing beat against your back, you felt yourself begin to come down from the adrenaline rush of almost being kidnapped. You thought back to the man’s ugly words, sniffling again as you whispered, “He was going to kill me.”

Logan bristled immediately, his hand coming to a halt on your back. “Never would have let that happen, ya hear me. I’d have heard ya from a mile away,” he grunted and gently stood to his feet, pulling you up with him. 

“You live close?” he asked.

“Yes,” you replied. “Just down the street.”

He finally got a good look at you, and by God were you pretty. Even with bits of gravel leaving red divots in your cheeks and your eyes watery with tears, you were among the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. He shook himself out of his daze as you took a deep breath and started walking shakily down the street. He tried to stay close but not too close as you walked, following behind you and scenting the air for any more threats. He sure as hell didn’t want to put you through anything else tonight.

The two of you walked in silence until you finally stopped, turning to face Logan as you stood outside the lobby door of your apartment complex. You managed a slight smile as you looked up at him, “I’m sorry that I’m not inviting you in,” you said. “It’s just that this evening has been hellish and I’d like to be alone.”

Logan shook his head, stepping back, “No, no, I understand, I’ll be-”. You cut him off,” Come tomorrow around noon. I’ll treat you to coffee for saving me.” You said this forcefully, almost demanding him to do as you said. It shocked Logan, and a small smile made it’s way onto his lips. “Yes, ma’am.” You thanked him one more time and headed into your building, leaving Logan standing outside, staring at the doors, more curious about you than he had been about anyone in a good long while. 

He did show up the next day, letting you take him to a quaint cafe and buy him a coffee, plain black, which you teased him for. You spent what felt like hours asking him questions and telling him about yourself, and it felt so right, so natural for both of you. Just being there with you was enough to take Logan’s mind off of the things that haunted him, solely focused on your beautiful face and animated expression.

When you realized you had been yapping at this near-stranger for almost 3 hours, you figured it was time to go, gathering your trash and standing up, blush heating up your cheeks. “Thank you again,” you said. “For saving me last night and for letting me talk your ear off today.” Logan flashed you a small smile, tilting his head slightly, “How about the same time tomorrow then? My treat.”

He watched your face light up and thought to himself that he’d go broke buying you coffee if you’d just keep looking at him that way. You quickly agreed, telling him that you’d definitely be there if he wouldn’t mind you being a little late, as work was a little further than your apartment. 

And so it began, the two of you had gotten closer and closer, until a random Tuesday when you blurted out that you wanted to be his girlfriend, if he’d have you. After teasing you about your blush, he of course agreed, claiming that you had been his girlfriend for weeks and you had just noticed. 

You brought him around to your place, where you cooked with him, watched all your favorite movies, and made love. He brought you around to his place, too. You met Wade and Al, which prompted the discussion about his mutation and history. You took everything in stride, reassuring Logan that his past changed nothing, that you were still his if he was still yours. He found a job at a local community college, taking training classes and becoming one of the campus security officers. He quit drinking so much, instead relying on your perfectly brewed cups of coffee to get him through the day, only having a drink or two after work if you were feeling like it.

Logan had never been happier. It was like you were made for him. He took care of you and in turn, you soothed his battered soul. No one had ever touched him with the tenderness that you did, no one ever made him feel as good as you. His existence had become pure bliss and he felt he finally had a purpose again. 

Your lives went on this way for a year and three months, until, just like with every other good thing he had ever had, he ruined it. 

Logan had come to your place before you got off work, aiming to surprise you with dinner after you had complained of a particularly hard week. He had just stepped through the door when he stopped cold, smelling that someone was here, or had been here recently. It wasn’t a scent he recognized, and he prowled through the apartment, checking every room thoroughly for an intruder. When he found no one, he made his way back to the kitchen, still uneasy.

It was there that he saw the papers on the counter, one neat little stack that would change his life. He moved the blank paper on top and a chill shot up his spine. It was a photo of you, taken when he was sure you thought no one was watching. It showed you through the window of your apartment, a soft smile on your face as you put on a coat over your work uniform. He could even make out the locket around your neck that he had given you for your anniversary. 

He moved on to the next pages, letters detailing your entire life, down to how much your water bill had been that month. 

It was the second to last page that sealed his fate, his name next to a summons, a set of coordinates he was to come to or they would kill you. He quickly thought to himself that he could protect you from anyone who tried to hurt you, then immediately realized that that wasn’t the kind of life he had wanted to give you, always on the run and afraid for your life. No, he would have to end things with you and go take care of this mess himself. It broke him to think of hurting you in the way that he would be required to. You were so resilient, so passionate, and stubborn when it came to him. He would have to destroy all of that to get you to leave him alone.

And so, he sat down in the living room and waited, tucking the papers into his jacket so you wouldn’t see them. Dread filled his bones, dragging him down into the couch and he thought he might not make it out of your apartment alive.

It wasn’t much later when he heard the front door open, your lively humming filling his ears and making him feel so much worse. He stayed seated as you made your way through the apartment, shedding your bag and coat as you went.

“Oh, Lo! You scared me!” you said as you saw him, your hand going to your chest in mock shock. “What are you doing here before me?”

Logan swallowed and spoke, trying not to let his voice shake,”We need to talk.”

Your smile dropped instantly and you moved toward him, balking when he held a hand up to stop you. “Lo, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

The look on your face was killing him, so he looked away as he spoke,”I want to break up.”

You sank down to your knees, squinting as you tried to get him to meet your eyes,” What? Lo, what happened? I promise we can figure it out together. You’ve just got to tell me what’s wro-”

“I cheated,” he said, cutting you off. “I don’t want to be with you anymore. I want to be with her.” As soon as he said it, he knew if he could just convince you that he had really broken your trust that way, you’d be done with him.

You laughed slightly, awkwardly,” Logan, that’s not funny. You shouldn’t say things like that. Did I do something wrong or make you mad? I’m sorry for whatever I did, but you really shouldn’t lie.”

The look on your face was almost enough to break his resolve, but the need to protect you won out over his impending grief, “I’m not joking. I’m done with this relationship and I’m done with you. I've found something better.” He felt so wrong saying those words, knowing you feared that you weren’t good enough for him.

“Lo-Logan, please, we can work this out. I can do better, I can be better if you’ll just tell me what you need that I’m not giving you. Please.”

You reached out and grabbed his sleeve, your expression pleading. Logan felt his heart that you had mended shatter back into a million pieces, standing up and ripping his sleeve from your grasp.

“Are you stupid?” he asked, injecting as much venom into his voice as he could. “I said I don’t want you anymore. I don’t want you stupid food, or your stupid gifts, or your pathetic love. I’m done. Do you hear me? Get it through your thick skull and stay away from me. I never want to see you again.” He turned away from you as he walked toward the door, stomping over his heart on the way.

He shook you off again as you grabbed his pant leg, still on your knees on the floor. Your voice warbled as you begged.  “Logan, baby, please,” you cried. “I can change I swear. I can be whatever you need. Just please don’t leave me. You’re my whole life. You make me so happy. I can’t-I can’t do it without you. Please.”

He risked one glance back at you, telling himself he needed to see your face one more time to remind himself why he was leaving. The sight of you on the floor, tears pouring down your cheeks, was killing him. He should have known that he couldn’t have you, that something would force him to leave, but he had foolishly hoped that he could spite whatever higher power kept hurting him by keeping you.

“Don’t come around,” he spat with as much vitriol as he could muster. “I won’t contact you, and you don’t contact me. Let’s make this as easy for you as possible. Just forget I ever existed.”

He didn’t look back again, didn’t watch you weep as you began to mourn what you thought would be forever, knowing you could never stop loving him, even now that he hated you.

Logan groaned, leaning forward against his knees as he came back to himself, his heart aching as painfully as it had when he had lived it the first time. After he had left you, he had gone to the coordinates on the papers he had taken from the apartment. They led to a rural town in Quebec, a place he couldn’t remember but felt like he had been before. There, he met up with a gang of mutant hunters who believed that somehow the universe’s Logan had come back from the dead. They tried to kill him again and threatened him with more violence toward you if he didn’t die willingly. Fat chance. Logan was a newly hollow man and had no qualms about tracking and slaughtering every one of the mutant hunters so that his kind could live in a semblance of peace. 

He stayed up north for a while, squatting in an abandoned cabin and letting his instincts rule him. That was better than having his every waking thought be filled with how he had left you broken on your living room floor, believing that he had betrayed you.

Eventually, he went back to Vancouver. Somehow, his job let him come back, and Wade didn’t pester him with questions (probably because Logan had almost bitten his head off after he asked the second one).

He had considered going to your apartment now that the threat against you was handled, but he knew that as soon as he found happiness with you he’d have to leave again. It was for your own good, really. He wanted you to be happy, and you couldn’t be happy if Logan was constantly walking out on you.

So he went to work and started drinking heavily again, which had led him to the inside of a holding cell, coming to terms with the fact that he would be there all night.

As soon has he had laid down on the hard metal bench he had been sat on for hours, he heard footsteps approaching. He turned his head and watched the cop approach, fully expecting him to say that you had hung up as soon as you heard what they were asking of you. Maybe you hadn’t even answered and Logan would get another call. 

What he didn’t expect, however, was for the cop to swing the cell door open and grunt at him, motioning for him to get up. Logan quirked up a brow as he stood, “Is it chow or somethin’?” he asked. The cop chuckled, “You sure you’d rather eat the slop they serve here than leave with the pretty little lady that came to get you? She signed your papers, so you’re good to go. And please, don’t come back.”

Logan almost stumbled as he processed what the cop had said, his mind racing as he sniffed the air. 

You.

You were here, close. Your scent was so strong. Logan’s heart clenched. He truly believed he would never smell you again, the sweet musk of your skin paired with your perfume. He slowly turned, and there you were.

You were soaking wet, your hair drenched and your mascara slightly smudged, a jean jacket falling from your shoulders. Something was wrong, though. You were hunched over yourself, almost cowering in his presence. Your hands shook as you pulled your jacket further up your arms. Logan would have thought nothing of it and assumed you were just cold if you scent hadn’t changed. He could smell fear on you, a fear he hadn’t come into contact with since the night you met.

You turned and started walking toward the jailhouse door, glancing over your shoulder to make sure Logan was following you. He caught up to you in a couple strides, staying slightly behind you to give you your space. All he wanted was to reach out and touch you, to hold you in his arms again, but he resisted. On one hand, he was immensely grateful that you had come to get him. On the other hand, he felt so guilty that you had come to save someone who had broken your heart.

The two of you walked out into the rain, Logan still following you. You led him to a small car, one that you hadn’t had when he left you. He didn’t move as you rounded the car to get in, assuming he’d walk back to Wade’s from there.

“Get in, Logan,” you said quietly. 

He took a deep breath as he opened the passenger seat and got in, leaning forward so as to get as little water on your seats as possible. “Thank you,” he said. “Really, you didn’t have to come get me. I don’t even know why I gave them your name. I’ve just had too much to drink and-”

It was only then that you turned to face him, your face illuminated softly in the hazy light from the lamps lining the street. He scanned your face, his blood running cold as he saw your black eye and split lip, your eyes bright red with shed tears. “Logan,” you said, cutting him off. You took a deep, shaky breath, “We need to talk.”

[ceroro]

local idiot gets sad

[theemporium]

a belated quinn birthday blurb with my favourite idiots<3

series masterlist

.

Quinn Hughes was never one to make a big deal about his own birthday. 

It was just another day for him, as sad as it sounded. Or maybe he had just gotten into the habit of treating it like another day after he had been drafted, after he moved across the continent where he wouldn’t be able to celebrate his birthday with his family or his friends back home in Michigan. 

He didn’t completely shun the day, he just didn’t go out of his way to make a big deal of the whole thing like some of the other boys (read: Brock) did for their birthdays. He was happy with a dinner, or maybe a few rounds of drinks at a local bar depending on the schedule. He was happy to treat it like every other day in the season. 

They were fresh off a game with the Flyers the day before with only a practice the next afternoon before they would have to fly out for the next roadie. Quinn had been planning to have a chill day, maybe make a few calls and leisurely pack his bags since they would be travelling most of his birthday.

But Conor had insisted he at least grab lunch after practice with the rest of the boys. And that had dragged on far longer than Quinn anticipated, considering there was always some new conversation to rope him into staying every time he made a move to leave. 

Quinn didn’t really put two and two together to sense anything suspicious when Conor finally agreed to let him head back to his apartment after they had been sat in the restaurant for over three hours. Not as he shuffled towards his front door, his shoulders slumped and his body craving a short nap before he started on dinner.

He hadn’t even noticed the second pair of shoes by his door until he lifted his head and found you standing in his living room, holding a massive balloon in each hand that spelled out 25 as you grinned at him.

“SURPRISE!”

Quinn’s lips parted, his brain trying to process the sight in front of him as his bag hit the floor with a thump. His eyes darted from you to the presents on the table to the other decorations around his flat before they landed on you again.

And all he could mutter out was, “how?”

“There’s these things called planes, babe,” you teased, finally letting go of the balloons to round the couch and make your way towards him. “You didn’t think I would miss your birthday, did you?” 

“But it’s not my birthday,” Quinn murmured, his brain still trying to catch up but his body reacting on pure instinct to pull you closer. “You said you had that big diss meeting—”

“A little white lie was necessary,” you shrugged, grinning up at your boyfriend as you wound your arms around his neck and pulled him towards you so you could finally kiss him. “Hey.”

Quinn beamed. “Hey.”

“It’s not much but I know you weren’t gonna do anything for yourself,” you murmured, your smile looking a little mischievous but it made his chest tighten fondly. 

“You planned this with the boys, huh?” Quinn mused, shaking his head.

“Conor started panicking and asking me for conversation topics when I got stuck in traffic on my way here,” you snorted, the sound only making his fondness grow. 

“Worth it,” Quinn muttered before he leaned in again, pressing his lips against yours and letting himself sink into your embrace. The tension in his shoulders eased as he pulled you closer. “Fuck, I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Hm, well believe it,” you murmured against his lips before you pulled back, something a little apprehensive in your expression as you flashed him a sheepish smile. “This might be the last birthday I can surprise you.” 

Quinn’s brows furrowed together. “What?” 

“Well, it’s my senior year and I’ve been thinking about my future,” you started, your eyes focusing on the collar of his shirt instead of his face. “And I kinda like the idea that my future is here. In Vancouver. With you.”

Quinn didn’t hide the way his grin widened. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed with a nod.

And he let himself imagine it. He let himself imagine next summer when the two of you would have to leave the lakehouse early, when Quinn would be helping you move into his apartment here. Or maybe the both of you moving into a bigger apartment to share together. He imagined getting to wake up to you every morning and having every dinner with you at the table. He imagined celebrating every birthday and anniversary and holiday together.

He could imagine it all so clearly.

“Fuck,” Quinn muttered as his arms tightened around you, as he pulled you against his chest and nuzzled his face against the crook of your neck. “Best birthday present ever.”

“It’s not happened yet, idiot,” you laughed, tucking yourself against him happily.

“I stand by my point,” he grumbled, pressing a quick kiss just below your ear to emphasise his point. “Having you here is a dream come true.”

“Sap.”

“Always, baby.”

.

[moss-sauce]

well to put it simply i think this country is fucked. i don't see myself living a "normal" life where i grow old and retire. i dont see myself having my own house. i don't see myself being happy. i see myself doing the deed probably like five years from now bcause it becomes unbearable, you see

[thestoryofella]

telephone

summary: after a breakup with Sirius, allowing him to make a move to pursue his music dreams, you find yourself in an exciting game of telephone with his best mates, desperate to find out details of his new life. Unbeknownst to you, there are others involved in this game of telephone. 

warnings: slight angst (happy ending), fluff, miscommunication, two idiots, sfw mentions of sex, swearing

sirius black x reader ✿ 6016 words

Three weeks. That's how long Sirius and you had been broken up. And yet, every day still felt torturous. Your girlfriends had suggested that you try dating again, but you didn't think it was fair to the poor bloke on the other end for you to be so desperately hung up on your ex-boyfriend.

You still remember the day you two had broken up. Sirius had been pursuing music for a few years after graduation as a lead singer and had failed to succeed. It wasn't until a month ago that he'd come bursting through the doors of your shared apartment, saying, "I finally got a gig! Isn't that great?" At that moment, he'd hugged you so hard, peppering your faces with kisses, leaving you both blushing, giggly messes. That was the happiest you'd ever seen him after typically grueling auditions and gigs with low attendance.

It was great, honestly. You were so happy Sirius finally had the opportunity to pursue his dreams. However, what wasn't great was that the gig was in Scotland, with a well-known, but anonymous to you, rock band in Glasgow as their lead singer. You didn't want to ruin his initial excitement, so you'd kept your worries and fears about the location to yourself. When Sirius realized a seven-hour drive to Glasgow from your apartment and a full-time job in London was an issue, you two finally sat down to talk a week after he received the offer. 

He sat with you on your sofa, with cups of tea for you both. Your eyes were red and puffy, as you'd anticipated a breakup as soon as you two had agreed to discuss the upcoming move. After a two-hour-long discussion where Sirius had desperately tried to arrange to come on the weekends and subsequently realized the band schedule was unpredictable–not to mention he didn't have enough money to visit every weekend anyway–and you had realized you couldn't hold back the man you love from his dreams, you two tearfully agreed to call it quits for the sake of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Today was also the day that Sirius was leaving for Glasgow. Despite being broken up and not talking regularly, he had asked you to come to say goodbye to him at the train station. So, here you were, head buried in the crook of his neck, both his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, inhaling his scent of cigarettes, amber, and cedarwood as you said goodbye to the man you loved. You figured the level of this embrace wasn't appropriate for people who were "just friends" now, but who knows when you'd hug each other again. You hoped this wouldn't be the last time you'd inhale his scent or feel his embrace; you desperately wanted him to stay. You hoped he didn't see the tears on your cheeks as you waved goodbye from the train platform. 

♡ ♡ ♡ 

It had now been a month since Sirius left for Glasgow. You'd been doing okay, better than you initially thought possible. Your heart was still recovering from the heartbreak of a breakup, but you'd been going to work regularly and hanging out with your girlfriends to make up for the loneliness that came with being recently single. You were still sad deep down, but having good friends and a hectic, time-consuming job was a great distraction from heartbreak.

Tonight, you and your friends planned to go to a local bar that you used to frequent with Sirius for drinks and darts. You got ready quickly, picked out an outfit suitable for a bar, and styled your hair hurriedly. Just before you were about to leave, you felt a ding in your back pocket and read a text from your friends telling you that they had to cancel.

Sighing, you shoved your phone back into your pocket. "Just my luck," you muttered. You were excited to see your friends and have a few drinks, but it doesn't seem that will happen. Unless… you were already ready anyway, why not go to the bar to have fun alone? You quickly decided that was a great idea and left in a hurry to walk to the bar. You made haste and walked to the bar quickly, excited to have fun and admittedly get a little tipsy after a long week.

Although the bar was only six blocks away–relatively short for London standards–walking in heels left you with blisters when you reached the door. When you entered the bar, you sat on one of the stools near the bartender and ordered an old-fashioned, planning to get buzzed quickly.

After downing approximately four old-fashioned drinks–though you'd truthfully lost count–you were solidly tipsy and ready to socialize with the nearest human. You had probably looked a bit odd hunched over at the bar hammering drinks alone, but hey, desperate times call for desperate measures, and you'd consider a recent breakup and friend cancellation desperate times. At this point, you could feel the effects of alcohol buzzing through your system. You were warm, admittedly just slightly sloppy, delighted, and ready to socialize with some people.

Spinning around on your bar stool to face the crowd, you peered among people's faces, looking for fun, friendly girls and playing a game that made it easy to join. Scanning left to right, you stopped once you saw two familiar faces: James and Remus. Usually, one would think you'd hightail it out of the bar after seeing your recent ex's two best friends–perhaps it was liquid courage or sheer stupidity–but you decided to waltz over to their high-top table and plop down next to them as they played a game of cards.

Startled by your non-stealthy, loud, and frankly drunk movements, Remus and James looked up simultaneously to meet your loopy, dazed grin and an embarrassing spot of red lipstick on your teeth you were unaware of. "Hi Remus, hi James," you spoke excitedly, any ounce of social anxiety smothered with whiskey.

"Hi, Y/N, having a fun night?" James spoke first, quickly noticing your inebriated state. He sported a friendly smile but looked a bit shocked by your entrance. You knew Remus and James well. The possibility of them not being your friends after the breakup had been difficult and saddening. Remus and James frequently accompanied you to Sirius' smaller gigs in London, and all four of you often got drinks after the show ended. By the time you and Sirius had broken up, you had considered Remus and James good friends and assumed they felt the same way about you. 

"I'm having so much fun," you near-shouted excitedly, a broad smile overtaking your features. Remus and James laughed in response, eyes crinkling as they observed your enthusiastic state.

Pausing for a second, figuring out how to phrase his next question, Remus asked, "How are you doing? Especially after everything that happened, if you don't mind me being intrusive." He wore a smile, but as his eyes scanned your face and figure, you could tell he was trying to analyze how you'd been coping with the breakup outside the bar.

You sucked in a breath, the feeling of air expanding your lungs dulled from the liquor but grounding you nonetheless. Not expecting the sincere question, you pondered on it for a moment. You had been doing okay with the band-aid of your job and your friends keeping you busy. However, you weren't sure if you were doing okay because you felt okay about the breakup or hadn't given yourself enough time to process it.

After digging deep down to address the wound in your heart, you decided it was the latter. "I've been doing okay. I've kept myself busy with work and friends, but I miss him a lot," you answered truthfully. Before Sirius got the gig in Glasgow, your relationship was almost perfect. Aside from the typical small arguments here and there, you two were infatuated with each other. Your breakup was necessary, but it wasn't wanted from either side.

Remus nodded, understanding what you meant and probably even the context of it all due to his proximity to Sirius. James interrupted the heartfelt moment with his typically cheerful attitude. "Well, if you're looking for more distractions, you could join us for a round of cards!" Although enthusiastic, his offer came out unsure, wondering if you wanted distraction or comfort.

You laughed in response, touched by his effort to comfort you even though you and Sirius were no longer together. "I think that sounds nice," you answered with a soft smile.

And so, over a few hours, you, Remus, and James drank multiple beers, played numerous card games, and divulged in far too many details regarding your feelings about your and Sirius' recent breakup. You told them you didn't know when you'd be ready to start dating again, that you missed the social connection and physical intimacy from a romantic relationship, and that you didn't know how much longer you could ignore the feelings of a brutal breakup with work and friends. They listened empathetically despite the inappropriate nature of you divulging these details with your ex's closest friends.

The excellent news is that alcohol hadn't just loosened up your filter but also James' and Remus' filters. Sirius was notoriously private, so his social media was no help finding details about his new life in Glasgow. Most of his posts were for marketing purposes. However, Remus and James were evidently mouthy drunks, and throughout the evening, you'd find out that although Sirius had tried going on dates, he stopped because the heartbreak was still too raw. Serves him right. When James shared that with you, Remus kicked him a bit too obviously, James flinching from his foot hidden under the tabletop, but the damage was done, and the information was stored in your mind.

"How is the gig going?" you asked. Although you had been craving details of Sirius' dating life, you also wanted to know how he was doing after years of hard work and sought-out gigs.

"I think he's doing okay. He took over for a lead singer who had a baby and listed his leave as indefinite, though he said it's weird being the new one in a band who has been together and known each other for years." Remus answered, James, nodding along. You hadn't thought about the social awkwardness associated with joining a band so late after its formation, but it seemed Sirius was adjusting well.

Staring at the somewhat blurry clock on the wall, you realize it is almost 3 a.m. and far past your bedtime. Gathering your coat to brave the cold weather, you leaped up from the bar stool and stretched your sore limbs. "Well, I have to get going, but thanks for keeping me company tonight," you offered your thanks with a small smile.

Remus and James looked at the clock in response, gathering their jackets and cards after seeing the time. "No problem, we're glad to hear that you're doing well," James smiled at you, his eyes crinkling up. He was always so friendly.

Walking out of the bar alone in the frigid night air reminded you of your loneliness again. Perhaps the cold air was sobering, or maybe it reminded you how nice it was to hold Sirius' warm hand on frigid nights like this and how his constant teasing always made warm, boisterous laughs escape your mouth.

♡ ♡ ♡

When you woke up in your apartment the following day, you still had on your clothes from the night before, recalling how you stumbled into the door and promptly passed out on the bed. Remembering the events from before with James and Remus–although delighted by the information you received–you expected them to never talk to you again, and even worse, you expected Sirius to hear about your nosiness and subsequently block you too.

So that's why you were surprised to see a text in a brand new group chat with Remus and James that read, "Cards and beer again next weekend?"

And so it began. 

♡ ♡ ♡

The next time you met up with Remus and James, you had a lot of life updates. For one, after reminiscing about Sirius and you walking home from the bar, you decided to go on a date to get him off your mind. It went terribly wrong. You went out for dinner with one of your coworkers, Charles. You two had sat awkwardly together while you devoured a steak, barely making any conversation outside of eating noises and sipping drinks in an attempt to get rid of anxiety. When he walked you home, he very unsubtly tried to get you to invite him upstairs, and by the end of his efforts, you were convinced the only reason he went out with you was to end the night in your bedroom. Now, things are awkward at work, and you've decided you can never speak to him again.

Trying to date again only made you want to get back together with Sirius more; you wished that was possible. You missed the comfort of being in a relationship with someone who knew you like the back of their hand. It never felt like an effort to converse with Sirius, even when it took you too long to come up with a comeback to his constant banter. It also never felt nerve-wracking or scary to initiate hand-holding, embraces, or kisses, only sometimes when he looked exceptionally handsome.

You were also incredibly frustrated. You'd resorted to looking at one of Sirius' few fan pages as a more minor artist and had discovered he'd been on a date. You had no idea how it went, but it dampened your mood nonetheless. Hypocritical? Yes. True? Also yes.

When you found yourself sitting across from Remus and James with the same beer as last time, lazily playing cards and more focused on conversation, you told them just that. Most people probably would feel stupid indulging in such personal endeavors to their ex-boyfriend's friends–you probably should feel more stupid doing so–but your friends are so busy, and you can't keep your tragic dating life to yourself anymore.

"And get this, after practically ignoring me the entire date and asking me to split the bill, he asked if he could come upstairs with me when we reached my apartment building! Isn't that ridiculous?" You rant to James and Remus about your date with Charles, feeling new waves of anger and frustration as you remembered the events. Although less wasted than last time, drinking multiple rounds of beer made you more loose-lipped than usual.

Remus' face crinkled in poorly concealed disgust. "Men like him have no shame. You would think he'd try to set things right as your coworker, but the fact he hasn't talked to you says a lot about him." James nodded in silent agreement.

Grumbling and propping your head into your arms on the table, you mumbled, "Ugh, I know. I wish dating wasn't so hard." Frustration sank deep into your veins. Being in a relationship with Sirius felt like one in a million. He was handsome, kind, thoughtful, respected boundaries, and made you so comfortable. Now, the first time you were thrown back into the ring, you happened to go on a date with someone who was Sirius's antithesis.

James patted your back in what was supposed to be a comforting rub. Then suddenly, he chortled. "You know, Sirius also has had trouble dating. He tried going out again with this girl he met at a bar. She went to the restroom and never returned after he told her he was a musician." Remus elbowed James in the ribs, likely for telling you something Sirius would not want you to know. You internally cheered; now you knew the answer to your looming question.

You shoot up almost immediately at the information, a bright light of warm, comfortable, purely selfish happiness burrowing itself in your chest. "Really!?" You ask excitedly, which both Remus and James laugh at.

"Hey, try not to look too excited! He's still one of my best mates," James laughs at your response, clearly bemused by your immediate shift in mood. A small smile graces Remus' lips, and a shiny, mischievous glint overtakes his eyes.

You try to tone it down a bit. "I know, I'm sorry. I know I'm being selfish. I just can't help but wish Sirius was still hanging up on me, too," you admit, letting a bit of sadness come to the surface of your emotions.

"You're still hung up on him?" Remus asked, putting a hand on your shoulder. You knew it was embarrassing to admit, but years of feelings don't go away after a couple of months. Of course, you were still hung up on Sirius. He had been your best friend, too, which James and Remus may have forgotten.

"Isn't that obvious? Of course, I'm still hung up on him. He was my best friend," you admitted quietly, eyes glazing over. You knew this was definitely something you shouldn't be sharing with James and Remus. But the smooth flush of alcohol in your system and feelings of nostalgia quickly overwhelmed your senses.

Remus and James noticed your heightened emotions, side-eyeing each other very clearly. You did not appreciate that. "If you tell him that, I will hurt you two," you threatened, narrowing your eyes.

Remus and James simply laughed but nodded at your empty threat, resuming your game of cards. "Scout's honor," James swore, swearing himself to secrecy.

By the night's end, you'd heard much about Sirius' gig, dating life, and adjustment to Glasgow. It sounded like it was going well, which you were conflicted about. On the one hand, you want the best for him. On the other hand, you're a selfish monster who wants nothing more than for him to come running back home to you. Not that you'd be the first person he would see anyway.

Over the next month, you had to travel to Paris for a work trip, severely restricting your scheduled beer and card games with Remus and James. This was highly displeasing; you wanted nothing more than to hound them for updates. The travel may be for the good, but it would help you move on quickly. And also help me seem less like a deranged stalker, you thought to yourself. Nonetheless, when you were back in a month, you, Remus, and James had beer, cards, and gossip planned again. 

♡ ♡ ♡

Paris was more fun than you could've ever imagined. Although you still had to work there, and this was the most extended work trip you'd ever been on, your boss was accommodating and perhaps lazy, allowing you to take most of the day to lounge around and explore the city.

And that's how you met Jean. Jean was a handsome Parisian man who did a fantastic job taking your mind off Sirius. You had met him at a nightclub about two weeks into your trip, at approximately 3 a.m.—who knew Parisians partied so late and so hard? When he slipped his number into your back pocket, it almost felt like fate. You weren't entirely convinced he was your soulmate, but you were getting close. 

You two weren't exclusive, but you found solace in spending the night intertwined, allowing you to escape the hotel and find romance after a long, painful, dry spell. Although a secret, tumultuous romance sounded quite appealing and much like a romance novel—which made you feel like a cool protagonist—you knew you had to talk to someone about your new fling.

The issue was that your girlfriends would be too nosy. They would want to know everything about Jean, including his social media, which could be disastrous. You need to talk to someone who would know, but they wouldn't grill you for information, so you decided on Remus and James.

You were hoping their oath to secrecy wasn't a lie because when you sent a text to your group chat that read, "Guess who can say she's been with a Parisian man?" it felt perilous. You were hoping you could unpack the details of your fling when you saw them again, not wanting to send a long text explaining everything.

However, when James replied, "I see you're going worldwide," with a winky face, your doubts eased a bit. It felt good having your secret fling off your chest, even if you knew telling James and Remus was an idiotic, terrible, but oh-so-relieving idea.

That night, you spent the night at Jean's again. You never really had much conversation with him. Your French was shoddy at best, and when he kissed the skin under your ear lobe after sharing a bottle of wine, it felt almost as good as a meaningful conversation. It was nearly enough to push away the memories of Sirius and you talking until your conversation ended with bellies and lungs tight from laughter, your faces wet from happy tears.

♡ ♡ ♡

It had been another week since you'd been in Paris. Things had slowed down significantly with Jean, especially after you'd realized that he could not cure your heartache. You both knew your arrangement, or whatever it was, was only short-term. He was handsome and into you, but he also lived in Paris and, hence, was not a viable option for you. He kissed you on the cheek when you parted, but it felt surface-level. Which it was, considering you had seen each other for only a week. 

Thinking of Sirius also still wanted to make you violent, to make you bang your head against the wall. When you'd shared that with James and Remus, they said he missed you and that things were tough in Glasgow, but you couldn't tell if they were saying it just to be excellent. Given the new low levels they'd observed you at, they had reason to. 

Today, you were walking to a coffee shop for remote work. If you'd consider staring at an empty Excel spreadsheet, work. When you said your boss was relaxed, you meant it. He'd posted a photo of himself at the Eiffel Tower eight times over the three weeks you'd been in Paris. 

You ordered yourself a cappuccino and sat down at a booth to lock in and watch TV shows on your computer while you pretended to be doing work. That was until you saw a familiar head of jaw-length black hair walk into the coffee shop: Sirius. 

No fucking way. You had to fight the urge to gasp out loud, bolt out of the shop, and abandon your electronics to escape the feelings of gut-wrenching heartbreak that reappeared upon seeing his face. He honestly looked a lot worse than when you'd seen him last. His face needed a good shave, he had heavy eye-bags, and he looked like he'd lost a concerning amount of weight since moving to Glasgow. You frowned at the thought of him suffering there. 

Apparently, he could feel your eyes on him because his gaze fell on you when he turned his head to scan the coffee shop. Internally screaming, you had to fight the urge to sink underneath the table and pretend you didn't exist. You should've run when you had the opportunity. 

His mouth opened in recognition and shock, a small smile curving upon his lips. Fighting the urge to pretend you didn't know him and run, you offered him a small smile and wave, gesturing at him to join you. This was such a bad idea that you internally face-palmed yourself at your unbelievable stupidity. You have been pining over your ex-boyfriend for months, and what do you do? Invite him to join you at a coffee shop and talk. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He approached your table, pulling out the chair on the opposite end of the booth to sit down in. "Hi Sirius," you spoke first, quiet, maybe timid, but friendly nonetheless. Your heart felt like it could explode out of your chest, and levels of heartbreak, sadness, and longing flooded to the surface, seeing him so close to you. Not to mention, he looked unwell, and you wanted nothing more than to embrace him like you would've done in the past. 

"Hi, Y/N," Sirius said, too. You both looked at each other for a second, a cloud of awkwardness and heartbreak in the air. He inhaled deeply, "How are you?" he offered up, breaking the silence. 

"I'm doing okay," you answered truthfully. "I've been busy with work and seeing my friends a lot," and there's the lie. You stared at a spreadsheet all day, and the only friends you'd seen frequently were Remus and James, who were Sirius's more friends than yours. 

"I'm happy to hear that," Sirius responded with a small smile. He paused for a second, thinking about his following words. "I heard from James that you've been dating again; I'm glad you're doing well," He spoke again, a forlorn look glazing over his brown eyes. His lips wore a neutral smile, but his eyes told a different story. Upon hearing these words, your heart dropped into your lower stomach. I'm going to kill him, you thought. James was so in for it. The worst part was you weren't even dating Jean anymore. You weren't ever dating him; he was just a fling and a distraction. 

You needed to figure out how to correct this vital error. Clearly, Sirius had gotten the wrong impression about your dating life from James, that bastard. Despite your frustration, after thinking about it, you didn't know there was a use in correcting the error. After all, despite how pathetic and in love you were with Sirius, he was still in Glasgow. "Thanks, Sirius, I appreciate it," you opted to respond to his comment after thinking about your situation. "How are you?" you asked. Despite his interesting appearance, you had hoped he wasn't terrible. 

"I'm okay. I'm moving back to London soon, though," he smiled. Oh no. You swore you felt your heart drop on the floor. When you convinced yourself that this relationship was forever out of your grasp, he dropped this bomb on you.

"Oh! Really?" You ask with an empty, fake smile, though you were admittedly surprised by this confession. "I suppose it will be nice to be closer to James and Remus again!" You added. You hoped he thought it would be nice to be closer to you again, too, but he officially thought you were dating someone else, and it felt too late into the conversation to reverse back on the error. It would be both confusing and humiliating to admit you had gone on with the lie. 

He nodded. "The lead singer was on leave because he had a baby; even though he listed it as indefinite, he decided to start working again," Sirius answered honestly, explaining the situation to you. You swear you could feel your heart snap into a million little pieces. You and Sirius had broken up believing this job arrangement was permanent, but now it felt like all your heartbreak was for nothing. 

"I see. What are you gonna do in London?" you asked, trying to convince yourself he might get tied down to another band. That way, the heartbreak would feel a lot less awful. 

"I'm going solo," Sirius told you. His typical confident demeanor was shredded; he was excited, but his words left enough room for you to tell he was looking for your approval. 

"Congratulations, Sirius. I'm really happy for you," you said. You were happy for him; this had always been his dream, but it was easier to break into the music scene in a group. However, this was probably the worst situation for mending your heart. If Sirius was solo, he wasn't tied to a band or their touring schedule. If he didn't think you were dating Jean, it would be entirely possible for you guys to rekindle your relationship. You felt like going to the Eiffel Tower solely to climb it and throw yourself off. 

You took a deep breath, desperately needing to escape the situation and think. "I have to get going," you blurted awkwardly and rashly. "I have to go back to the office; my lunch break is over," you added in a quieter, more normal-sounding voice. You hoped Sirius would ignore that it was 10 a.m. and nowhere near lunchtime. It was a pathetic, poorly thought-out lie in an attempt to escape. 

"Oh, well, it was nice talking to you. See you around!" Sirius responded, clearly taken aback by your sudden departure. If you didn't feel like you were going to vomit up your breakfast, you would've felt bad, as he clearly thought you were desperate to ditch him. You were, not because you hated him, but because you still loved him. 

You nodded, quickly packed up your belongings, waved goodbye, and bolted out of the coffee shop, nearly tripping over your shoes on the way out. It was so embarrassing. You opened your group chat with Remus and James, sending a single text, "Traitors!" 

James' reply was a single emoji with their tongue sticking out.

♡ ♡ ♡

You had been back in London for a week, and after multiple texts from now-apologetic James and Remus, who had been apologetic from the start, you agreed to meet them again at the bar to talk. You were honestly still a bit upset. Knowing that there was now a possibility of getting back together with Sirius, which you had subsequently squashed, had reopened deep sadness. 

You entered the bar, immediately spotting James and Remus at your usual table. You sat down with a small smile; they were still your friends, and you waited for an explanation. 

Immediately as you sat down in the booth, James blurted out, "I'm sorry!" You nodded but raised your eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. "Please forgive me. I promise I thought you were dating Jean, and Sirius asked about you. I couldn't leave him hanging; he's my best friend." James blurted out the information rapidly, clearly apologetic and anxious.

However, there was only one piece of information that you immediately narrowed down on. "Wait, Sirius was asking about me?" you asked, shocked and slightly shaken. Here, you thought you were the pathetic ex-girlfriend hounding details out of James and Remus, but maybe, just maybe, Sirius was the pathetic ex-boyfriend, too. 

Remus responded with a snort, "Please, Sirius has been asking us about you nearly every day for the past three months!" James nods hurriedly, clearly trying to appease your worries. 

"And you didn't tell me?" you ask, a twinge frustrated—scratch that, a lot frustrated. You'd been ranting to them for months about how heartbroken and sad you were, only to discover that Sirius was equally upset.

"Well, we didn't know if he'd be returning either. We thought we were being good friends hearing you guys out. We didn't want either of you to know about the other in case Sirius stayed in Glasgow," Remus explained, his words coming out quickly. 

You nodded in response. Although you were frustrated, Remus's and James's explanations made sense. Honestly, you felt terrible dumping all that responsibility on them. 

"Well, we have to go. Bye!" James said, grabbing Remus' arm and running out of the bar. You gaped in response, shocked by how quickly they tried to run off. Their mannerisms made no sense until you saw a familiar face for the first time since Paris: Sirius. 

He looked shocked to see you approaching the table you sat at. "Hey, Y/N, what are you doing here?" That seemed like something you should ask him. 

"I just met up with James and Remus," you replied sheepishly. You didn't know if he knew about your continued meetings. And you hoped he didn't know that you had been milking them for information about his life in Glasgow. 

"Oh, they told me to meet them here," Sirius said. "I wonder if they decided to switch locations. I can go to meet them," he continued, using his thumbs to point towards the door and indicate his departure. 

You think you both knew that James and Remus had planned this. However, you also knew that Sirius was likely being nice and didn't want to make you uncomfortable since he was under the impression that you were dating Jean. 

When Sirius started to retreat, you saw his broad, tall figure walk out the bar's doors, a bell dinging as he left, and you knew you couldn't sit back. You couldn't let the man you love get away from you again. Knowing you could've done something to stop it, you couldn't deal with another heartbreak. 

You hopped up from the bar stool, running after Sirius's figure until you reached him two blocks away, in front of a brick alleyway. "Sirius, wait!" you nearly pant, clearly out of shape, reaching out to clutch his wrist. He turned around to face you, looking dejected. "I'm not seeing Jean," you blurted out–still out of breath–a rare moment of vulnerability. You wanted to smack your hand over your mouth. "He was just someone, something, to get my mind off you for a while." You felt like you needed a muzzle right now. 

His expression shifted from sadness to surprise but then again to emotions you couldn't put your finger on. “Y/N…” He began, but you quickly cut him off. 

"Please, I know I messed up," you admitted quietly. You were embarrassed. "I should've been honest with you. I should've told you I missed you and had been honest with you, but I didn't know if you would ever return. So I resorted to playing a game of telephone with James and Remus. I should've just asked you how you were doing." 

He looked bashful for a second, an emotion you didn't usually see on Sirius. "Well, you weren't the only one playing the game telephone. I kind of, maybe, told James and Remus to continue meeting with you so I knew what was happening in your life." He pauses for a second, trying to figure out how to continue. "And for the record, you didn't mess up seeing Jean; we were broken up, and you had every right to move on. I just selfishly wished you had been waiting for me."

You laugh at his confession. You should've known James, and Remus wouldn't have continued to update you without telling Sirius information, too. After all, he was their friend first. "I should've known they would sell me out to you and that they wouldn't be the most reliable relayers of my life." You sucked in a quick breath, "I wish I had waited for you, too; I just didn't know if you were ever coming home." If you weren't embarrassing yourself enough, you suddenly said, "I never stopped loving you."

A vast silence washed over the two of you for a moment, your sudden confession hanging over your heads like a ripe fruit from a tree, desperate to be desired. Then, Sirius reached out to cup your cheeks, both rosy from the cold air and the heat of your confession. His eyes searched yours before he spoke. "I never stopped loving you either," he admitted. 

A surge of relief flooded your system, along with bone-deep golden joy. You didn't let another moment pass before you wrapped him in a tight embrace, your head falling under his chin. He allowed a burst of happy, surprised laughter to escape his lips before wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. When you held each other, all the misunderstandings and doubts between you two melted away, replaced by love and closeness. You never wanted to let go of him again. 

After a moment, he pulled away, "You could've just told me you missed me, dollface." Although you felt touched, he had so quickly re-adopted your old nickname, you punched his arm nonetheless. 

"Shut up," you murmured, leaning upwards to envelop his lips in a gentle, soft kiss. When he smiled against your lips, you hoped you two could stay like that forever. 

[monzamash]

pit in my stomach - lando norris

rating – mature (cheating, language, sexual references) requested by @landograndprix - hugging you tight, my friend!

it was hard to pin point the moment his love for you had been diminished by his crippling guilt or when you knew there was nothing he could say or do to piece you back together. maybe it was around the time you’d asked him point blank whether he saw you in his future and he stuttered over his truth with an unconvincing of course i do when the dagger had already been deployed into your unsuspecting back. naively blinded by love.

or maybe it was the night lando stumbled home from the local, half a pint of slushing lager still in his hand while the other held a small, black velvet box. he dropped down on one knee, eyes bloodshot with tears and a trembling bottom lip – a stark contrast to your hardened stare and crossed arms shielding you from the blow, physically and emotionally spent.

“i fucked up… i-god i hate that i've hurt you, baby and i wish i could take it all back – i fucked up so bad and i’m so sorry.”

“you didn’t fuck up, lando – you fucked someone else for six months and lied to my face and made me feel like i was losing my mind! do you have any idea how much pain you’ve caused?”

the room fell silent, boiling blood pumping in your ears.

“huh?! do you?”

“no–”

“no you don’t! i've been stupid enough to keep chasing after you and all you’ve done is let me down and made me look like a fucking idiot! everyone knew about her, about what you were doing behind my back and you knew it was wrong but you couldn’t stop! you’re a monster and i’m not going to cry over a mistake you made…"

sadness welled as you stared down at the man kneeling at your feet. he was a stranger who only resembled the man you loved in appearance, not in honour or integrity or character – you were grieving the lando who had showed you the world with so much love and adoration and hope.

"you will have to live with this mistake for the rest of your life.”

“you’re right. i will never forgive myself 'cause she meant nothing and i have to fix this – i need to fix this because i love you.. so much. i’ll get help, i’ll see someone just give me a chance to fix it…”

“do you really think that is going to fix it?”

you pointed to the dainty box that held so much weight. in a way it represented a future founded on four years of memories, of something resembling happiness. sure, there had been disappointments, hundreds of missed calls, a few missed anniversaries and your gnawing intuition saying that maybe the paranoia wasn’t just inside your head. but ending like this, in betrayal and heartache – you hadn’t seen that one coming.

lando swallowed the lump forming in his throat, queasy from the drunken stupor he’d drank himself into and the dread settling in the pit of his empty stomach, “thought it might be start…”

a strained laugh slipped from pursed lips as venom coated your sharpened tongue, “and that is how i know you will never change.”

“please,” lando scrambled to his feet and reached out for your hand in an attempt to stop you from walking away, “please don’t leave me…” he begged, voice barely above a whisper.

lando knew he would never forget the look in your eyes when you slowly turned back to him – they were cold and punishing, bone-chilling. they swirled with the web of lies and sorrow that he had inflicted upon the person he loved the most in the world, who had given him everything she had, who loved him unconditionally, which made it nearly impossible to accept that he had lost you.

“you left me six months ago when you slept with her, lando.”

more writing...

[sgiandubh]

The trouble with Stravaigin'

This pic is currently making the rounds on Tumblr and X, and for all the good reasons (thank you @mariaae, for bringing it here):

After a rather busy week and an even busier week-end, it's certainly nice to check in for this 👆.

Funny how the dunces across the street dub this a 'wrap party combo' of sorts. Oh, come on, are you that stupid, people?

Jamie Roy's OG post is absolutely clear with this regard:

'Thank you @thevinepr for having us at @stravaigin_g12's 30th Birthday.' An event that is directly linked to this very recent Stravaigin's announcement, that has to do exclusively with S's spirits' business:

'In an announcement that will delight the legions of whisky lovers who have been demanding its addition to Stravaigin’s renowned drinks menu, The Sassenach @sassenachspirits by @samheughan is today confirmed as joining the bar’s Scotch whisky offering as a permanent fixture 🥃. (...)

Stravaigin's Olivia Wong - Scotland's Bar Manager of the Year says: “We are thrilled to welcome The Sassenach to Stravaigin. We are all big fans of Sam and his Scotch whisky here at Stravaigin and know excitement levels will be running high with our patrons, as we announce it is becoming a permanent addition to our drinks menu.'

Note to self: this is something Marple 'forgot' to post about, despite her all-consuming obsession for S. Without this information, the rest was presented as just another heavy drinking sesh. Tss, shame on you, madam! Is this where you're at? Lying to your readers, in an attempt to demonstrate: a) S is a highly-functioning alcoholic (by your reasoning, half of the UK might be, ROFLMAO) and b) Ashley Hearn is a lazy, entitled idiot, who spends her time in bars chatting and drinking with her buddies?

Lying by omission is either a mortal sin (when made with the purpose of hurting someone's reputation) or a venial one (when 'in jest', like the Screeching Banshees pretend to do). But I have no idea if that woman is a Catholic, nor do I care. Either way, it's unsavory as fuck. So long for playing it Switzerland, in here.

All of the above to emphatically (LOL for ages) say that this event has nothing to do with Outlander. This has everything to do with Sam Roland Heughan and his own, local business network. This is exactly why Jamie Roy was thanking the organizing PR firm (more on this, a bit later in this post).There were zero reasons for C to be there that night, something that has been confirmed by fans on X:

Interesting: 'took a picture with them'. In the context, people were wondering if there were pics with the Two of Them, not the rest of the cast. But hey, didn't you know? THEY CAN'T STAND EACHOTHER, NEVER COULD!

And there we go, we have the arrival video (why does it always have to be Brazilian fans directly or indirectly involved? that is a mystery on par with who killed JFK, LOL):

And here we have it, courtesy of @maripimpao, the OG X poster (https://x.com/Mari_pimpao/status/1850588095046971487?t=p3_lv013WuINhA085ayr4A&s=19).

... S arriving separately, as predictible, probably on his own (fucking Tumblr doesn't let me upload more than one video, but you'll find everything on the X page above), then C and Skeleton (God, that girl must KNOW stuff!) together - not surprised at all, either:

A normal convo ensues, C stating that she feels 'both happy and sad' because Friday was their last day ever on set. I was very surprised by her genuine warmth, to be honest, as I wasn't expecting it, but it is in line with public lore on her being spotted before by fans.

A word on The Vine PR company. This is one of the biggest PR firms in Scotland and even the UK, with a very nice portfolio of clients, partners and events they manage on the regular:

Oh...

And re-oh...

So, there should come as no surprise to find, among The Vine's clients (for whom it managed flagship events), two of LVMH's portfolio companies/brands: Moët & Chandon and Glenmorangie. I also remember being ridiculed, as writing fanfic, by both Marple and her minions. Well, eat crow now, I have been announcing it for a year, already, for both of them. Not once, but three times in a row.

One...

Two...

Third time's a charm/Jamais deux sans trois:

Business-wise, this is about the amount of time it takes to make things of this amplitude happen. Wait, I forgot that business was bound to flounder, sweet Baby Jesus on a motorbike!

On top of it all, I have some very inconvenient, yet rhetorical questions (for the people across the street, a rhetorical question is supposed to make a point, not wait for an answer):

What about McTavish's spirits business? Still in promo mode, bought medals, and all the tralala? Hmmm.

What about Tony McGill? Why isn't he seen at any event at all, in the music business or otherwise, like ever? Isn't he supposed to manage (Media Manager, my 🦶) a Scottish band? Where was he, on Friday night? How does he even do business? Hmmm.

Oh, FFS.

[wolfiesmoon]

Eyes on me

floyd x gn!reader

Its rlly hard writing this w one hand because i had a bit of a medical emergency last night (in fact i'm in the hospital as i'm typing this) but we survive

so imagine my surprise when i got my baby boy floyd in all his basketball glory (as a consolation from the sevens i assume)

long story short this calls for a floyd fic

(also i use the word stadium a lot here, by that i mean a more small, local stadium and not one of those big NBA league ones)

"I told you, I'm not playing." Floyd crossed his arms and pouted like a little toddler. "Floyd. This is an important match. We have no time for one of your tantrums." Jamil tried reasoning with him, but it was all for naught. It seems like Floyd is inconsolable right now.

The coach was very close to losing it at this point. The match was drawing closer and closer and Floyd's mood was getting worse and worse.

The team could already hear the people coming into the stadium.

"What are you even so sad about?" Ace questioned, getting a bit annoyed with Floyd.

"Little Shrimpy promised to come see me but isn't here yet... " Floyd glanced at the people sitting on the bleachers, searching for your face in the crowd. When he didn't see you, his pout increased.

"... That's why you're refusing to play?" Jamil couldn't believe his ears. Neither could anyone else in the club right now. Is this dude really 17 years old? He seems like a bit of an overgrown 5 year old right now.

Well, the coach knew he was taking a risk when placing Floyd on the team seeing as things like this are very likely to happen. All he can do now is hope you actually show up so he won't have one potentially amazing player less.

.

"Oh crap, Floyd's match! I almost forgot!" You quickly got up, startling your classmates. You had to stay with some of them to work on a group project professor Crewel gave you. "Anyone wanna come watch basketball with me?"

A few of your classmates agreed to go while others said they had plans to get to.

And so you went.

"Can't believe you forgot it, idiot." Grim scolded you. "Oh yeah? and who was the one sleeping away in my lap while we had to do all the work?" you shot back and he grumbled something under his breath as a response.

The two classmates going with you huffed in amusement at your reply.

By now, you were already at the entrance to the stadium. You saw Floyd play before at practice and you know how good he can get when he's fired up. But you also know how he can be when the opposite is true.

You just hope he's in a good mood right now. If he isn't, you'll just cheer for him until he is.

You sat down on the bleachers, chatting with your classmates about the project as you waited for the match to start.

.

"Hey, isn't that the Prefect right the-ack!" Ace got pushed away by Floyd who's eyes immediately scanned the bleachers again. When he saw you, his eyes lit up and a wide smile spread across his face.

"Shrimpy is here!~" the sudden change in mood surprised even the coach. Well, he supposes the issue is solved now.

His eyes darkened, however, when he saw you laughing with your classmates. You're here for him, not some rando dudes from your class.

Suddenly, he feels determined to play so well you won't take your eyes off him for even a second. He'll make sure of it.

"Hey. We're going to beat the other team so hard they cry. Got it?" he suggested with a horrifying expression on his face. The entire team felt too afraid to do anything but nod in agreement.

That's the second mood change he had in a matter of 30 seconds. Now the entire team is just generally concerned for him.

As the NRC team walked out, you smiled at Floyd and waved to him, Grim raising his little paw to wave too. He smiled back at you widely, flailing his arms around like an excited child at you. When he looked away, however, his expression darkened once more.

Better keep your eyes on him the whole time or someone from the other team might not make it out unscathed.

[thehauntedetheral]

Saw that requests were open. So how about a cowboy with a city girl reader who can’t do shit in the country side? Like girlie would die trying to get eggs from chicken nests or plow a field 😂🎀💅🏻

Yandere Cowboy x Reader 🤠

Requests are open!

You lived in city enjoying your life by shopping, spas, parties and spending your grandpa's money like crazy as you live with him. Your grandpa had it enough. Yes he has a hell lot of money but you should learn how to spend it wisely.

So he forcefully sends you to his farmhouse for your summer break in a town middle of nowhere. You were away from friends and with a poor internet connection. So you tried to find some thing to distract yourself only to find a handsome cowboy with his sturdy cowboy hat and boots living in your grandpa's farmhouse for maintenance.

He became your tour guide and showed you the ranch, farm and all the animals.

He did everything effortlessly. Feeding the cattles, taking out eggs from nest, farming. It wouldn't be so hard to do you thought only if you knew.

The next day you tried to get eggs from nest only to have hens pecking and running after you while yan cowboy simply shakes his head at you while having a silly smile plastered over his face.

You tried horse riding well what can I say the horse kicked you.

You thought about riding the tractor in farm but yan cowboy stopped you from harming yourself and the farm plants.

You thought you have already embarassed yourself more than enough infront of yan cowboy but you have no idea this boy is obsessed and madly in love with you.

He loves how you are willing to try new things .

He loves how you don't give up even after getting badly treated by animals.

Hens are running after you? No worries he will teach you.

You want to learn horse riding? He will personally sit behind you on horse for teaching purpose. Ofcourse not for the purpose to be close to you.

Slowly you two became friends.

Makes you breakfast.

You two take walks in the farm at evening.

Taking care of cattles together in ranch.

Going to grocery store together.

Hitting the local pub and dancing like idiots with each other.

Him and his accent just melts you into a puddle.

You love how he helps you, teaches you tricks on how to handle ranch.

You also love his athletic built and handsome face with his cowboy outfit.

Everything is going on beautiful but as the summer break ends you have to go back to city which is inevitable.

The day has arrived for your departure and you are ready to go home. You will miss this farmhouse but moreover you will miss him more. After all goodbyes are difficult.

You wished you can tell him about your feelings about how much you mean to him, how much you love him and will miss him but there is no meaning in saying it now as you both will be miles apart.

"Think I'll miss you forever

Like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky"

-Lana del rey (Summertime Sadness song)

Let me know through comments what you feel about this fic.

Requests are open!

For more yandere reading:

[lovelettersfromluna]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Sweet Little Lies *ੈ✩‧₊˚

{Ellie Williams x Reader}

Summary: Being on tour with someone you’ve been ignoring for two months is hard…but doable

an: AHHHHHH!!! I am so excited to finally give you guys the second part of The Perfect Girl! I can confidently say that the vibe of this one has been so much fun to write and think about ideas for, and it makes me so happy that you’ve been enjoying it! This one is pretty short, im sorry but! the next part will be longer, fluffier and much smuttier hehe. Anyways, I hope you guys like this part too. 🖤 (Also yes I know I posted this before the poll was up but y'all saw how it was going im sorry I am an impatient woman)

Warnings: 18+!!! Eventual smut, Ellie is selfish point blank period, reader is extremely sad, some making out but doesn't lead to much, ANGST!!!!, this one is pretty short so not many warnings hehe. let me know if I missed anything pleaseeee.

Part 1 can be read here!

The rest of the tour was…rough.

After the night at the club, the silent treatment that you had for Ellie had gone from simply ignoring her, to pretending like she didn’t even exist.

Shows were awkward, practice was awkward, being in a fucking band with her was awkward. Not to mention the very noticeable divide that it put between you and the other members.

The entire situation made it hard to talk to anyone. It made you feel extremely isolated, because you had convinced yourself that no one could possibly understand, especially not the other two men in your band, so you barely spoke to anyone.

In return of that, the other members found it hard to talk to Ellie. Because ever since you had pulled away, things were just no longer the same.

The late nights hanging out in someone’s hotel room stopped, partying after shows were done without you, and the only times anyone truly ever saw you was when you had to perform. When you were done, you’d quietly go back to your hotel room to sulk.

The tour ended that way, with you silently pulling all of your things from the back of the tour bus once you had returned home and catching a cab back to your apartment in the city, going against the tradition that you all had done every time when coming back home, which was going to your favorite local bar and trying to out drink each other before stumbling home in the cold.

So now, you were home, still ignoring everyone.

It was hard for you. Because the girl you’ve looked up to for so long, wanted for so long, had said such mean things about you. And you weren’t an idiot, because never for a second did you ever think that Ellie could ever want you the way that you wanted her, even when you were wrapped up in her arms at night, or when she whispered stupid jokes in your ear whenever you were sad, her lips ghosting over your skin, you never once thought that you could have her. Because you weren’t a kid with a great big imagination, with hopes and dreams that you’d one day be swept off of your feet by her.

You knew deep down that it would never work out, and you were okay with that. You had long accepted that your love was unrequited, and as much as it hurt you to see her date girls she’d only known for a few weeks, and fuck countless groupies every night, you never let it get to you.

But hearing her say what she said, hearing those words fall from her pretty lips….it was like something was eating you from the inside out, and the love that you had for Ellie couldn’t outweigh the pain that she brought you.

And you couldn’t fucking do it anymore.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

The decision you had made didn’t come without heartache. You cried, you screamed, you threw things, ruining your room entirely, your rage and sadness burned you so deeply, because in all of this you still blamed yourself, and not her.

It had been almost a month since you got back from tour, and you could count on your hands how many times you left your apartment. Dylan and Charlie came by the visit a few times, and their apologetic smiles somehow pissed you off even further, because it made you feel small and frail, like you’d never be able to come back from this on your own.

You appreciated them, and you enjoyed the times they were around because it gave you an out from thinking about Ellie.

But all good things would come to an end.

That’s how you found yourself at Dylan’s apartment. He was shocked when you showed up, having not seen you outside of your apartment in who knows how long.

He knew that whatever it was you were there for, was serious.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ellie felt like she was seeing red.

She slammed the door to her car once she arrived at your apartment building, her nostrils flaring as she breathed hard. She couldn’t even stop for a moment to think about what she was doing, or if you’d even be home.

But after her phone call with Dylan, she didn’t care. She needed to see you.

After tour had ended, she had found her way to your place a few times. The first time she had a bouquet of red roses gripped between her hand, which after 10 minutes of standing outside your door, she took home and threw in the trash. The second time she came by with a box of cookies from your favorite bakery, which she ended up angrily shoving into Charlie’s chest when she came back home and he was at her apartment waiting for her to teach him a new guitar riff. The third time she simply slipped a hand written note under your door about how sorry she was, which you had promptly ripped up once you saw the small ‘from: Ellie :’)’ written on the front.

That was the last time she had showed up, figuring that you’d come around whenever you had cooled down from the entire situation. What she didn’t expect though, was for it to go on for months after tour had ended.

But she was done, she was over this and she was over you ignoring her.

She knocked on your door loudly, staring knuckles banging on the wood of your front door, making you frown as the loud noise echoed throughout your apartment. You sighed, opening the door harshly.

“I told you I didn’t want one of your fucking pamphlets! If you don’t leave I’m calling the fucking-“ your words were cut off, eyes going wide as you looked up and caught eye of Ellie.

A very angry Ellie.

You sighed tiredly, already trying to close the door on her. “Go home Ellie…” you mumbled out. But her palm was pressing against your door and stopping you from closing it on her.

“You’re quitting the fucking band?” Her voice is harsh, and her words make you freeze as you stop pushing your door closed.

You figured word would’ve gotten out sooner or later…you just preferred later rather than sooner.

You let out a sigh, one of your hands coming up to tuck a strand of your hair back before you give her a half shrug. “I told Dylan not to tell you until the end of the month..” you mumble out, your eyes staring at your sock clad feet.

The second you confirm it, you’re confirming Ellie’s greatest nightmare, and she’s pushing past you and walking into your apartment before you can even tell her that you don’t want her in that, and that she needed to leave.

There’s no use in fighting her, because she’s already there and she’s clearly very pissed off, so you simply close your door behind you and lock it. You figure that if this is the last conversation you’ll have with Ellie, it might as well be this one.

Ellie is pacing back and forth in your small living room, hands in her hips as she tries to get a grip of everything that she’s learned within the past few hours. She wants it to be a lie, she wanted to come to your apartment and have you tell her it was all a prank, and she’d finally hear that pretty laugh of yours when you too made up and cuddled on your couch.

But you weren’t, you weren’t giving Ellie any of that and it made her feel even more pissed off.

“Ellie…” you mumbled softly, reaching out and trying to grab her arm gently, trying to calm the girl down so you could explain.

Ellie pulled her arm away the second you tried reaching out for her. The soft tone of yours was all she had wanted for the last three months, hearing the way you’d soothe her when she became too consumed in her feelings.

But Ellie felt betrayed, she felt like she was being left behind, like you were throwing her away and leaving her like everyone else did.

You were abandoning her.

“No! Are you fucking kidding me? You don’t talk to me for three months and the first thing I hear about you doesn’t even come directly from you? You didn’t even have the fucking decency to sit us down and tell all of us…you told Dylan and you had him deliver your message to us like he’s your fucking bitch” she spat.

You knew she was mad, you knew she’d come to your apartment in a rage when she found out. You had prepared for it, you prepared for all the nasty things Ellie would say to you.

But you didn’t expect any of this..

You inhaled deeply, trying your best not to let her words affect you.

“Look, Ellie…I just…it took me a long time to figure out what I needed to do to feel better. I don’t…it just isn’t working for me anymore-“ she cut you off, her hurtful words coming back with a vengeance.

“Bull fucking shit.” She spits out, and her tone is enough to make you flinch. Her words are cutting into you just like they had that night in her hotel room, and you’re trying to find something in you to not lose your fucking mind right now.

“You’re leaving because of me, because of something I said. You’re…you’re leaving behind something fucking amazing because I hurt your feelings. I don’t know how many times I have to say it! But I’m fucking sorry! Okay? I feel awful for what I said and I wish I could take it back but I can’t, and I’m sorry, but you’re being weak for leaving because of it” she yells out.

And everything stops….because all you can hear from anything shes just said…

Is that you, are weak.

And it’s like some sort of fucking phenomenon or something, because you suddenly feel like you’re being transported to that night, and you’re standing behind a wall, listening to Ellie laugh about how…how fucking unwanted you are.

And you don’t hold back anymore. You’re done holding back.

“Yes Ellie, are you even listening to yourself right now? Have you for one fucking second not been a selfish asshole to think about how any of this has affected me?” Your voice is tired, and it sounds like you’ve been internally fighting with yourself to keep these words inside.

“You hurt me Ellie! If you’re so sorry you said those things, then why did you fucking say them? Is it so hard to just say you don’t see me that way? To be a sensible human fucking being and not trying to dig me into a deeper hole than you already fucking have?” Your voice is growing louder and louder, and you’re slowly closing the space between the both of you as you shout at her.

When you’re right in front of her, your chest almost pressed against hers, your voice is quiet, and it almost sounds like you’re whispering to her for a moment.

“I never once believed that you could ever want me…but saying the things that you said about me, and then sabotaging me whenever I’m trying to live my fucking life…I can’t do it anymore Ellie…I can’t be around you anymore..”

Ellie almost fucking whimpers, because the tone of your voice is nearly enough to bring her to tears.

You aren’t even fighting anymore, you’re just tired. You’re practically begging her to let you go because she’s just held you in her hands for too long, never giving you the chance to grow and become something more than what you are.

Ellie feels it, just by the look in your eyes, she can feel that this will be the last chance she has to tell you, to come clean and stop lying to herself and to you.

Shes being given one last chance, so she knows she can’t mess it up.

“I’m in love with you.” She deadpans.

You roll your eyes, walking away from the girl. You had no time for games, and that surely meant Ellie falsely confessing her love for you just to keep you in the band.

You nodded your head towards your door as you watched her. “Nice try Ellie. I’m sure you’ll be able to charm some other girl enough to replace me as lead singer by the end of the month. It’s time for you to go” you sigh out.

And Ellie is practically whining as she makes her way over to you, towering over you as she pleads.

“I…I’m not lying…fuck id never lie about this. Leave the band if you want, I don’t care, I just…” she grabs your hand, bringing it up to lay over her heart as she sighs “I need you to know how sorry I am..and how I feel about you…” she sighs out.

Your eyebrows were furrowed as you looked down at your hand pressed against her chest, rolling your eyes as you used the placement to push her away from you.

“Ellie, cut it out. Seriously. I heard what you said about me, I heard all of it. Im not your type, remember? I look like a kicked puppy everytime you’re with another girl” you sighed out as you pushed past her, walking off into your living room before plopping onto the couch with a loud huff.

Ellie was groaning softly, hearing her own words being relayed to her in your voice made her heart break even more than it had before. She followed behind you, sitting on the couch and reaching for you.

“I..I didn’t mean any of that! I panicked!” her words catch your attention, but she groans when she sees the unamused look you’re giving her.

“I swear…just…” She tried, pleading for just a bit of your time before she was getting on her knees in front of you, pushing your legs apart so that her body was pressed against the edge of the couch, and you had no choice but to look at her.

“I’m an idiot, okay? The last thing I wanted was for Charlie and Dylan to tease me about having a massive fucking crush on you…I just…you’re too good for me, I’m not…I know that you deserve better than me…but I can’t help the way I feel about you. It eats away at me at night and it makes it hard to sleep and it doesn’t stop unless you’re around” She rambled, her eyebrows knitted together as she spoke.

Her closeness made your cheeks burn red, and you tried to keep your face down because you knew the longer you’d look into her eyes, the easier it would be for her to make you fold. You frowned as you shook your head, and before you could even speak, she was already talking.

“Please…please I’m so sorry baby…it’s killing me…not being with you is fucking killing me. I’ll leave the band, I’ll pack up and you can find a new guitarist to take my place just..” her words died down, and her fingers were placed gently under your chin to force you to look at her, and you almost lost your breath because..

Ellie was crying.

And not only was Ellie crying, but Ellie was crying for you.

Her green eyes were rimmed red, and her eyelashes were clumping together, and your insides twisted because all you wanted to do was to hold her, pull her into your chest and tell her that it was okay, that you were okay, and that you could be together.

But you couldn’t. Not after what she did.

“Ellie I…I can’t…” you mumbled softly. You opened your mouth to explain further, but you found that you couldn’t speak.

Because Ellie’s like were pressed firmly against yours.

Her long fingers were cupping either side of your face, keeping you close as her lips moved against yours. You gasped softly, trying to break away from her, but she used it as an opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth, and from that point on, you melted into her completely.

You moaned softly, and Ellie was already pushing you back to lay against the couch, her body hovering over yours as she kissed you so deeply, so passionately, you could feel all of the love she had for you seeping into your mouth.

It felt amazing, having you pressed up against her, whining into her mouth and breathlessly begging for more. It was like every dream Ellie had ever had of you was finally coming true…

But she couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that came with it.

If this is what Ellie had always wanted, why was it that she felt like she was doing something wrong? Why did it loom over her like a dark cloud, soaking into her core and making her feel terrible about doing this to you…distracting you from everything she’s done with sweet kisses and breathy moans.

She wanted it…god she wanted it more than anything

But this wasn’t right.

She furrowed her eyebrows as she gripped your waist, moaning softly as she pulled away from you. You frown in confusion, staring up at her and searching for what might be wrong, what you had done to make her stop.

“What? What is it Els?” And Ellie swears she’s never heard something so sweet, the nickname you had for her like the sweetest melody she’d ever heard.

She sighed, gently pulling away from you as she shook her head. “This isn’t right…” she mumbled softly. She sits down across from you, her legs spread with her elbows resting on her knees, hunched over a bit.

You frown as you watch her, sitting up and adjusting your tank top, suddenly feeling extremely exposed underneath the girls presence. “Do you…not want me?” You mumble softly. Ellie’s eyes are nearly bulging out of her head as she quickly turns to you, grabbing your face and pulling you close as she shakes her head quickly.

“No! God no I….you’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of angel…it’s just…” she sighs, her voice raspy before she starts again. “This isn’t how this is supposed to go…you’re worth so much more than what I’ve given to you…I’ve been mean, and selfish and...And I come here expecting you to just forgive me and...and give yourself to me and...it isn't right.." She sighs out. You pout softly as you listen to her, and you are suddenly remembering all of the things that Ellie said, and you can't help but agree that the wounds are still fresh.

She notices how deep in thought you are, and she uses her strong hands to grip your thighs and pull you so you're straddling her lap. She licks her lips, her hands toying with the plush skin of your thighs as you both stay there for a moment, before she breaks the silence.

"Im not going to convince you that you need to stay in the band...if you really want to leave, thats your decision..but..." She sighs softly.

"Let me prove to you that you're what I want...give me one chance to do this the right way, and I promise princess...you won't regret it.." Her voice is raspy, and it reminds you of all the times she would talk to you while you both laid in bed together and you couldn't sleep. It reminds you of all the times Ellie called you on the phone in the middle night, too high and too needy, just so she could hear your voice.

And it reminds you of how in love you are with Ellie Williams..

Your hands slowly go to rest on her shoulders, your fingers toying with the ends of her hair at the nape of her neck, and you can swear you can see the girl visibly glow the second you give her a nod. In an instant, she's pulling you closer and pressing kisses to your neck, in spots that she knows you're extremely ticklish at. You nudge her gently to stop before you both settle down.

"Thank you angel...I promise...I'll do right by you.." She mumbles softly, her pretty green eyes staring at your plush lips before she leans in, pressing the softest, most gentle kiss to them, almost as if she were afraid she'd break you all over again.