#maybe it makes sense if they get back together after that

[milktiicup]

H-h-hey.. senpai… I was wondering if you could make more about Mr Crawling! (I LOVEDDD YOUR PREVIOUS FAN FIC ABT HIM) because he’s such a cutie tbh and I love him sm so I was wondering maybe if you could make something about how he would react to the reader spending more time with someone else (coworker preferably!)

Feel free to ignore if you don’t want to do this..!

(Can I be 🦁 anon?)

the jealous type!

His face scrunches. “Not you… smell bad. Someone else.”

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮ omg my first anon >.< ofc u can be 🦁 anon!!!!

warnings. more fluff/comfort hehe, spoilers for end04

It’s late when you return home. If it was any other day, you’d be scheming around the streets with your crowbar- but life is different now. 

You have a commitment at home. Your new roommate… boyfriend? thing. It’s almost as routine as having a pet; coming home, giving him a pat on the head, giving him his completely normal legally obtained soup and ending the day snuggled up on the sofa with him at your feet. 

Sure, he’s the one who came with you all the way from that other world and didn’t have any friends here, but does that mean you can’t? It’s not like you could bring Mr. Crawling with you to work, or after work drinks with your coworkers. Normal people can still see him, after all. He’s just… a little hard for other people to notice- you picked up on that when your parents dropped by on an impromptu visit one evening.

When you kick your shoes off when you come in through the front door, you feel guilty. You can tell he’s a bit down- of course, Mr. Crawling still tackled greeted you with his overzealous, unnecessarily over the top hug. 

“You return!” he says, every time without fail. 

“I return,” you reply, petting his head, but something feels off. He doesn’t let go immediately, and his usual enthusiasm is muted.

Mr. Crawling pauses, his face stuffed into your neck. You quirk a brow, curiously eyeing him as he takes a big sniff of your skin and clothes. His face scrunches. “Not you… smell bad. Someone else.”

Is he the jealous type? Wow, and since when was his sense of smell so good?

“You can smell my friend?” you blink at him, cringing as you feel a knot in your stomach. You try to explain, “Uhm… someone else… uhhhh… my friend.”

“Other friend?” Mr. Crawling frowns, sitting back on his feet, the space between you growing slightly colder.

You pull yourself up from the floor, careful to meet his uncertain gaze. “Other friend,” you confirm.

“Friend… same me?”

You sigh, wishing this language was more descriptive. It’s hard to explain something so complex when neither of you really understands it fully. You tap your fingers nervously against your leg, thinking. “I don’t understand…” you sigh, the weight of the misunderstanding settling on you. “They’re human.”

Mr. Crawling’s frown only grows deeper. He shakes his head, and scoots himself closer to you. He wraps his arms around your waist, his hair falling over the both of you as if trying to shield you from everything outside of your house. “Friend like this?” 

Resting your head on his shoulder, you let out a content sigh. “Not like this, Crawling.”

“You one. You me two. Not like three.” His grip tightens around you, pulling you as close as he possibly can, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “Me like you. Worry… not like me. Gone long time… Smell someone else.”

You pull back slightly, feeling the pressure of his arms around you. He’s not just possessive, he’s scared. You stretch your arms out. “Like you. Big like. See? This much!” You hold your hands closer together, parallel to each other. “Friend ok. Little like. Understand?”

You chuckle lightly, but the soft pang in your chest makes you pause. “You get it now, Crawling?” you mumble. You reach up and scratch his head absently, a familiar gesture that seems to soothe both of you. “Uhm… when I leave, I go to work. You know work, right?” He nuzzles into your palm, and you just assume he does, for the time being. “Work friend! Not important. You important. You, uh… you understand me?”

“Me understand,” he murmurs into your palm, his cool lips tickling the skin. “Smell bad… Me only like you. You smell good."

"I know you like me, Crawling. I like you, too."

He lets out a satisfied hum, his body relaxing again, and for a brief moment, you wonder if he’s truly getting it—or if he just likes the idea of being yours as much as you like the idea of him being yours. He pulls your head closer to his chest, and that’s when you decide you don’t really need to build rapport with your coworkers that much, not when you have a cute ghost waiting for you back at home.

[wikiangela]

you're my happily ever after (so i'll take my chance now, risk it all somehow)

rating: G

words: 2.6k

8x06 fix-it, because I'm pissed - I or my fics aren't going anywhere tho <3

thank you to @evansboyfrend for beta reading, ily 🫶

[also on Ao3]

It feels like the whole world is crumbling down. It feels like the Earth should shake, burst on fire, open up and swallow everything around. As dramatic as it is, he kind of expects it to happen, and it’s weird that he’s still sitting here. His ears are ringing, panic rising in his chest with each of Tommy’s words. He watches Tommy get up and head for the door, and he’s frozen to his spot. It’s not- it can’t be. It fucking can’t be. “Wait,” he finally manages to say, trying to keep his voice from trembling, “did you just break up with me?” He asks, hoping to any entity that listens that he just misinterpreted it, that he got it wrong. Because- because he can’t lose Tommy. He’s falling for him so fast and so hard. He’s ready for the next step. He’s ready to move in together. He’s ready to talk about one day, eventually, maybe getting married. He knows he wants that. He knows what he wants, and he wants Tommy.  “Yeah, I guess I did.” Tommy answers, glancing back at him, his expression sad but firm. But Buck knows him. Knows that this mask will crumble into something devastated as soon as he leaves. That Tommy’s heart will shatter, just as Buck’s is right now. He can see through Tommy, he knows that he cares about Buck. It just- it doesn’t make sense. What was he even talking about… It was all so much, so fast, Buck’s brain is still scrambling trying to understand it all.  “Believe me, I didn’t see-” Tommy starts, but Buck shakes his head and interrupts him. “No.” He stands up, his legs feeling shaky. Tommy fully turns towards him, confusion in his face. “What do you mean, ‘no’?” He frowns.

“I mean, no, you’re not breaking up with me.” Buck says more confidently than he feels. Because this can’t be it. The last six months, the best six months of his fucking life, can’t end like this. Can’t end at all. He won’t have this. “I know you care about me. And I care about you. And I don’t want to break up.” He sees Tommy open his mouth to speak, his expression hardening – putting on a mask again, trying to hide the hurt. He speaks again before Tommy can. “If you truly, genuinely want this, not because you think it’s gonna be better for me or you, but because you don’t want to be with me, fine, I can respect that. But I won’t accept it without a fight. I- I wanna fight for us, Tommy.” Buck steps closer to him, hoping that Tommy doesn’t step back, that might just break him. He doesn’t, he’s stuck in place, sad eyes on Buck’s. “Let me fight for us. You-” he adds quickly, on a roll now, not wanting Tommy to interrupt until after he’s done, after he’s said his piece. He needs to say it all now, let Tommy know how he feels. He can’t watch him leave without trying to fix it first. Tommy’s looking at him intently, just listening, not even trying to speak. “You gave me a second chance once, when I fucked up our first date, and I- I want to believe it wasn’t for nothing. So- so you’re my first man, so what?” Buck throws his hands up in frustration, he thinks he’s starting to sound a little frantic, speaking faster and faster. He just can’t let Tommy leave without him knowing exactly how Buck feels. “It’s far from my first relationship ever. Why- why is it so different just because you’re a man? It shouldn’t be. I don’t need to date other people, experiment or whatever else. I’ve dated people, slept around, did it all. I know how that goes, how it feels, and I don’t want to do it again. I know what I want, Tommy. And I want you. And don’t you dare tell me how I feel.” He feels anger seep in, Tommy’s words ringing in his head. What the actual fuck was he thinking? “I’m a grown man, I know how I feel. Yeah, it’s new and exciting, but it’s also real. It’s real to me, and- and if there’s any chance of forever, I want to take it. And-” he takes a breath. He feels like he’s been speaking in one breath, feeling a little lightheaded now, his heart hammering. Or maybe that’s just the panic. “And don’t start with the whole ‘I’m not your last’ bullshit.” He shakes his head again, tears welling up in his eyes, anger still building. Really, what in the world? How could Tommy want to just throw away the most wonderful relationship that’s happened to Buck in years? Maybe ever? “You don’t know that. I don’t know that. Yeah, we could break up one day. But you could also be my forever, and I could be yours. I’d love a chance to find out, even if it hurts in the end. But maybe that’s just me. Maybe I’m the only one here brave enough to risk it. And- and what about my heart, huh?” Tears are threatening to spill, his voice shaking now, with sadness and anger, and desperation. He can’t let him go, he can’t. “You said I’d break your heart eventually. But this, right now? This is you breaking mine.” He finishes, almost panting now, his monologue taking the wind out of him, wanting to say everything on his mind, in his heart. He hopes he got his point across. 

“Evan.” Tommy just whispers, with a pained expression. There are tears in his eyes, too, one lone one slipping through, falling down his cheek. Buck’s hand itches to reach out and wipe it off, but he’s not sure if he’s allowed to anymore. 

“Give us a chance, Tommy. Let us fight for this. Fight for me, for us. Fight with me.” He’s aware he sounds like he’s begging at this point, but he doesn’t care. This is too important. “I thought it’s been so good between us lately-”

“It has!” Tommy rushes to say. “It’s been amazing. You make me so happy. That’s why I’m scared, I just- I’m sorry, Evan, but I can’t let myself get hurt like this again. Because I- I’ve been there before, and it was hard to get back up, and with you- I don’t think I’d be able to ever recover from this one.” He admits, his stone-faced facade crumbling, and Buck can see his own feelings reflected in Tommy’s expression. Sad, devastated, heartbroken. 

“We can- we can take some time apart.” Buck says around a lump in his throat. He feels like he can’t breathe. All he wants is to rewind until before he dropped the moving in bomb which must be what made Tommy freak out. He could say anything else, and take it slower, and maybe they’d be on their way out right now, a date night like they planned. “If that’s what you need. A break. But not for good. And then let’s come back to it clear-headed, knowing for sure what we want. And if you still want to break up, I- I’ll respect that. But I already know what I want,” he repeats firmly, decisively. “I want a future with you. I want to move in together, and one day down the line get married, and- and I want it all with you. We can slow down if I’m rushing this. I tend to do that, and if it’s scaring you, I’m sorry.” He adds, not wanting to backtrack any of this, but aware of how intense he’s coming off. He’s never been more serious about anything in his life. “But the past six months have been the best in my life. I’ve never felt so happy, so free, so comfortable, so safe. And I’m not giving up on you, Tommy. I will fight for you until I can’t anymore, until you tell me that you don’t care about me and I should just fuck off.”

“Evan. You know I’ll never say that.” Tommy responds quietly.

“I know. Because I’m confident in us, in the fact that you do care, and you do want me. I know that.” Buck emphasizes, and realizes, not for the first time, that he never felt like this before. This secure. This confident about someone wanting him. “I also know you’re just trying to protect yourself, your heart, and I get it. But I can’t let you go without a fight. I won’t. I messed up a lot in my life, and I won’t mess up this. I refuse to. Because I-” he takes a sharp breath, the words pressing on his lips. He doesn’t want to say it for the first time in a possible break up, a moment of such anger and devastation. But he needs to put it all out there. Needs Tommy to understand how much he’s trying to throw away right now. “I love you, Tommy.” He confesses, sees Tommy’s face melt into the saddest expression Buck’s ever seen on anyone, tears spilling freely now. Both of theirs, he realizes, feeling wetness on his cheeks. “I’ve been falling for you a little bit more with each day we spend together, with each minute. And I know- I hope you feel the same. But if you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t-” he swallows thickly, the thought alone is too much to bear. 

“I can’t do that.” Tommy interrupts quickly. “Of course I love you, Evan. It happened so quickly it kind of scared me a little.” 

“I noticed.” Buck says dryly, and Tommy lets out a humorless chuckle. “If you ask me, which you didn’t, by the way, you decided for both of us, which was an asshole move,” he points out, and Tommy looks away, as if ashamed. Good. Buck loves him, which means he’s gonna call out when he’s acting shitty. “I’d rather give us a real try and get my heart shattered if it comes to this, instead of always wondering what if, always wondering if you’re my one who got away. Which you would be.”

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, takes a step towards Buck, now just half a step away. “I’m sorry, maybe breaking up is too hasty. Impulsive,” he scoffs at himself, probably remembering how he called Buck that just a few minutes ago. Well, so maybe they’re both a little impulsive. Not a problem, in Buck’s opinion. “I don’t- I don’t want to break up. I never want to be away from you.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand flinches at his side, like he wants to reach out, grab Buck’s, touch him. Buck hopes he does. “It just- it seemed too fast. Like you got wrapped up in the moment. It’s still so new, I thought we were taking it one step at a time, and I didn’t-” he takes a deep breath, as if bracing himself, and Buck knows what he says is going to sting – and it does, it feels like a gut punch, actually, “I didn’t think you were as serious about this as I was getting. And I realize we should’ve done the mature thing and talked it out. I’m sorry. It’s just, we’ve barely talked about any future here. But I want it, of course I do. I’m just- I’m scared. My heart has never been in this much danger.” He looks into Buck’s eyes as he says it, more vulnerable than ever. This is everything Buck wants right now, for them to talk, to discuss this, to try fixing it, instead of one of them running away and the other giving up and not fighting for it. Buck’s been there, he doesn’t want a repeat.

“Tommy.” Buck is the one to close the distance between them, carefully brings his hands up to cup Tommy’s face, giving him a chance to back away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he breathes out a sigh of relief, like he craved Buck’s touch as much as Buck craves his. “You remember when I told you I wanted something with you? Even though I didn’t know what that something was yet?” he asks and Tommy nods slightly, Buck’s palms still resting on his cheeks. “I’ve been serious about you since that precise moment. About pursuing this, and wanting some kind of future with you. I know I tend to rush into things, it’s been a problem before.” He huffs a self-deprecating laugh. “I tried not to do that with you, but I failed, clearly. I just think from now on, we both should stay and talk and try to work it out if we have any issues with something. If you still want me.” He adds a little anxiously, but relaxed when he feels Tommy’s palms settle on his hips.

“Of course I want you, Evan. I always will.” Tommy says, that loving look in his eyes, that always makes Buck’s heart melt a little. That look that Buck loves so much, that made him think that Tommy might feel the same way.

“Good. Like I said, I’m not letting you go. Ever.” He says decisively, a huge weight that’s been there since the topic even started finally lifting off his chest. This might be the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and no matter the conclusion – which he’s pretty sure will be the happily ever after he’s always craved – it’s worth the risk, it’s worth everything.

“Good.” Tommy echoes, that gorgeous, scrunchy smile of his slowly spreading on his face, and it’s like sunshine came out from behind stormy clouds. “I don’t intend on letting you go, either. I love you, sweetheart. And I’m so sorry for… for this mess. For overreacting.”

“That’s fine, we’re past this- well, actually, we are gonna talk about it more, but at least we’re on the same page now, I hope.” Buck says, slowly leaning in. “I love you so much. I never want to lose you.”

“I’m sorry.” Tommy says again, and Buck just wants him to stop saying it. It’s fine, they’re fine now. “You won’t. You have me for as long as you want. I promise.”

“What if I want you forever?” Buck whispers, his face so close to Tommy's, their lips almost brush. It sends a shiver down his spine, like he hasn’t kissed him in days, when they just exchanged a quick kiss hello a few minutes ago.

“That works for me.” Tommy smiles again, and finally dives in for a kiss, but it lasts barely a second before he’s pulling away, Buck trying to follow. Tommy chuckles, running a comforting hand up and down Buck’s side. “But maybe let’s put a pause on the whole moving in together thing, huh? At least until we fully talk everything through.”

“Yeah, good idea.” Buck nods, his gaze flickering between Tommy’s eyes, now sparkling happily, and his pretty, kissable lips. It feels so good to be able to just have a mature conversation and resolve whatever issues arise. If they keep doing that, he thinks they’re going to be okay. He’ll make sure of that. “No need to be impulsive,” he adds, his lips twisting into a teasing smirk.

“Okay.” Tommy chuckles quietly, his cheeks reddening. “Just kiss me.” 

Buck doesn’t need to be told twice. He kisses Tommy like he means it, like he’s his person, like he’s the love of his life, trying to put all those emotions into a kiss. He knows for sure he’s getting the same intent back. And at this moment, in his kitchen, narrowly avoiding losing his love because of a stupid reason, he decides it. One day, not too quickly, but not too far into the future, he’s going to ask Tommy Kinard to marry him. And he’s more than sure of the response he’ll get.

[also on Ao3]

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Remember in the Alex hirshe comic con thingy he mentioned that Bill would also watch The Duchess approves

Soooooo would that mean that Stanfraud would watch cheesy old lady soap operas with Stanley?

Also has there been moments where Bill conceplated what will happen when he gets back to his body, what will happen to this family (while not his) that has become attached to.

Another thing I was thinking is how betrayed would Ford feel that Stanley was essentially playing house with Bill and how much anger would he feel at Bill for taking away time he could have had spent with his grand-niece and nephew, and with his brother?

This au is so incredibly interesting >v<!!!

They absolutely watch cheesy soap operas together — all the time. It’s become their thing, honestly.

Bill definitely catches Stan writing his erotic fan fiction (canon information on the website) and will never let him live it down — ever. He does offer to proofread though! But Stan threatens to play synthesised music to get rid of him.

As for Bill’s thoughts on getting his own body back. It’s always been there in the back of his mind, usually as a positive. Finally, he can be free of this annoying skin puppet and get back to prepping for weirdmaggedon. Finally, he can be himself again! But, as the reality of it draws closer, he begins to experience hesitance, which he wasn’t quite ready for. Why would he be hesitant? He’s waited thirty years for this!

(His eyes tend to linger on the two photos Stan keeps down in the basement, one of the twins, and one of everyone: him, Stan, Wendy, Soos, and again, the twins).

Stan also feels a sense of… sadness, maybe? He isn’t quite sure what it is. But there’s something hanging over both of them as they’ve almost figured it out, and, despite the complications behind their friendship, Stan can’t help but ask:

“You’re not gonna just… disappear, are yah? Kids’ll miss you if you did.”

‘I’d miss you’ goes unsaid.

And Bill probably has to pause for a second, caught off guard. Stan swears he almost catches a glimpse of sadness in his eyes, but it’s gone too fast, and Bill forces a grin.

“Oh please, Fez. You couldn’t get rid of me, even if you tried!”

There’s an uncertainty in his voice. Stan doesn’t comment on it.

Honestly, thinking about Weirdmaggedon, I don’t think Bill would be ready to accept how drastically he’s changed yet, even now, and would try to prove this by sticking with it. Albeit, he makes some changes. He doesn’t have to put the Pines in danger! They can be V.I.Ps! Shooting Star’s already a servant of chaos as is, he can let her whip up some creations to terrorise the town! And for Pinetree? Weirdmaggedon would be a front row seat to Gravity Falls’ weirdness on full display. With so much to study, how could he hate it? And Fez hates the law as is, why not let him be above it. Surely he’d appreciate the gesture after all they’ve been through together. A little token of his appreciation. And Sixer… well, he’ll come around once he sees just how safe Bill is keeping their his family. Maybe he’ll even throw Ice and Question Mark in the mix, just to cover all his bases.

Rationalising like that… it makes him a little less hesitant about getting his body back.

He doesn’t tell Stan of course, or anybody, even after it’s revealed who and what he is. It has to be a surprise!

And finally, Ford.

He honestly makes me really upset in this au, because you’re 100% right. He hasn’t just lost 30 years of his own life, he’s also lost 30 years of family. He’s missed his parents’ funerals, the birth of his grand niece and nephew, etc. And apparently, Stanley knew how dangerous Bill was, read all of Ford’s warnings and scattered notes, and still let him be around the kids, still played house with him all those years.

How has Bill manipulated him? He thought Stanley was smarter than that!

He can’t even be happy to bond with his niece and nephew, because they’ve been deceived into thinking he was someone else for months — Bill, no less!

Honestly, it hurts the most when he truly accepts Stan hasn’t been manipulated. He isn’t doing this because he’s been backed into a corner, even if it started off that way. He’s genuinely bonded with that monster. So have the kids. So have the townsfolk who Ford struggled so hard with to connect with.

It’s a lot of salt being rubbed into open wounds.

[willowsnook]

Act my age

ham, steak, salami + veggies with white bread pleasee thank you 💞

Lewis Hamilton x gf!reader

The age gap between you and Lewis was a topic that the F1 media couldn’t seem to get over, even though you’d been together for two years. The 15-year difference was all they talked about, but you tried to brush off the chatter.

As an associate attorney practicing corporate law in Monaco, you felt you had the "maturity" box checked for dating Lewis by media standards. Still, recently the constant expectation to act “older” started to weigh on you. You were 25, and sometimes you just wanted to be you—without the shadow of “younger girlfriend” following your every move.

Feeling stressed, you called your friends and planned a night out. Lewis kissed you goodbye with a smile, promising to pick you up if needed and reminding you to stay out of trouble. A few hours and several drinks later, you found yourself on the dance floor, lost in the music. Taking a break, you stared at yourself in the restroom mirror for a little too long, realizing it was probably time to call Lewis.

“Lewis!” you chimed when he answered.

“Hi, sweetheart. Ready to come home?” he asked, amused.

“Yes, please,” you slurred. “Can we get Taco Bell?”

“That’s terrible for you.”

“Oh, live a little!” you teased, sensing his playful eyeroll over the phone. True to his word, he arrived in minutes. As you slid into the car, you leaned over to give him a soft kiss.

“Hi,” you whispered, and he gently brushed his thumb over your cheek.

“Hi, I missed you,” he murmured, making you giggle.

“It was only a couple of hours,” you reminded him.

“Still too long,” he replied with a smile.

“Yeah, it was good to relieve some stress.” 

The look Lewis gave you after you said that made you smirk, knowing he had another way to relax once you got home.

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

The Friday before the Mexico GP, you were in the McLaren garage with Lando while Pato took the wheel for FP1. Lando was one of your closest friends in the paddock, and with you both living in Monaco and being around the same age, you bonded quickly. Caught up in a playful 1v1 soccer match, you giggled as you nutmegged Lando, who tackled you in a dramatic attempt to stop you.

You landed awkwardly, wincing as you hit the ground, and Lando immediately looked worried.

“Shit, Y/N, are you okay?” he asked, glancing around nervously. “Lewis is going to kill me.”

Crossing your arms, you raised an eyebrow. “Are you more worried about Lewis than me?”

“Uh, yes,” he admitted without hesitation, making you laugh.

Later, back in the Mercedes garage, you waited for Lewis to finish his interviews. As notifications began flooding your phone, you noticed you’d been tagged in a video from one of Lewis’s interviews:

Reporter: “So, Lewis, nice to see Y/N out here supporting you this weekend. Interesting video of her and Lando Norris playing football.”

Lewis: “Yeah,” he chuckled, “it’s like I’m babysitting a kid sometimes.”

Embarrassment hit you like a wave, and before you knew it, you had quietly excused yourself and called for a ride back to the hotel.

Back in the hotel room, you tried to calm yourself down in the shower, but when you stepped out, you found Lewis waiting, worried as he noticed your puffy eyes.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asked gently.

“Just thought you could use a break from babysitting,” you replied sharply.

He flinched, realizing the hurt his words had caused. “I didn’t mean it that way, Y/N,” he tried, but you shook your head.

“How else could you have meant it?” you asked, folding your arms defensively.

He sighed. “I just see Lando as... still a kid. And when you’re with him, it makes you look that way too.”

“You do know Lando and I are the same age, right?” you countered. “If you didn’t want to ‘babysit,’ maybe you should’ve dated someone your own age.”

“Don’t say that,” he said, pulling you into his arms. Tears slid down your cheeks as he held you tightly. “You’re the only one I want to come home to. Always.”

Exhausted, you nodded, letting the conversation drop as you both went to bed.

The next day, you still felt out of sorts but kept quiet to avoid distracting Lewis before qualifying. As he was stopped for a quick Sky Sports interview, you hung back with Lando, who shot you a sympathetic look.

“Rough night?” he asked gently, and you nodded.

“This isn’t your fault, Lando,” you assured him. “He shouldn’t have said it.”

Lando’s expression shifted, and following his gaze, you saw Lewis speaking with the interviewer, his hand resting on her lower back as he laughed at something she said. A wave of anger and hurt rushed over you.

“Y/N…” Lando started, but you brushed him off.

“I’m leaving.”

Storming out of the paddock you were pissed. You knew Lewis would think nothing of it and expect you not to either and to “take the high road.” But you were so fucking over that. Mixed with yesterday’s emotions you were feeling slightly crazy and you weren’t going to contain it. 

Calling Lewis’s assistant, you made her book you a flight home immediately and went to the hotel to get your stuff. By the time you reached there, you had seen countless pictures of Lewis and the reporter cozy together, so naturally, why not print them off for him to frame? You were a woman on a mission in the hotel business room printing these pictures. Spreading them out on your bed, you snapped a pic to send to your sister, who called you insane and then left.

Instead of Monaco, you took a shorter flight to New York, where Lewis kept a penthouse. You settled in, ordered takeout, and watched the race on Sunday from the penthouse, glad to see him finish P4 but still seething.

You weren’t expecting to see Lewis until tomorrow, so you went to bed around 11, only to be jolted awake at 1am by someone pounding on the door.

"Just let me in," you heard Lewis call out.

Groggy, you opened it to find him standing there, exhausted, dressed in a Mercedes hoodie and sweats.

He dropped his bags on the living room couch and crossed his arms, facing you. “Nice touch with the photos,” he said, his voice steady.

“I thought they were fitting,” you shot back, arms crossed.

Lewis sighed. “You know that wasn’t anything. She isn’t you.”

“Who cares that I know that?” You yelled. “You are mine! Not hers! And you know what I wanted to do? I wanted to march over there and rip her off you by her hair.” 

Lewis’ eyes widened but you kept going. 

“I’m done pretending that I’m too secure with myself to care about this shit because, guess what? I do fucking care! I do care when girls throw themselves at you all the time. So yeah, I printed off those pictures for you, and yeah, I knew that was crazy, but if that’s what I have to do to get an emotional reaction out of you, then I’ll do it every time.” 

After your outburst, the room felt charged with a heavy, vulnerable silence. Lewis looked at you, his face softened by something between understanding and regret. He took a deep breath, then stepped forward, gently wrapping his arms around you. You could feel the warmth of his embrace as he held you close, grounding you.

“Y/N,” he murmured into your hair, his voice low and tender, “I’m so sorry. I never, ever want you to feel like you can’t be yourself with me. I love you—exactly as you are. I didn’t realize how much pressure you’ve felt to fit into… some idea of what everyone else thinks you should be. I don’t want that for us.”

You looked up at him, eyes still glassy but softening as his words sank in. “Sometimes I feel like I have to prove I’m ‘mature enough’ to be with you,” you admitted quietly. “Like I have to be some version of me that fits everyone else’s expectations.”

He sighed, holding you even tighter. “Y/N, you’re perfect just as you are. I love you, not some ‘ideal’ of you. I love the person who’s goofy, carefree, strong… the person who prints off photos just to make a point,” he chuckled, squeezing your hand. “You don’t have to change or hold anything back for me.”

A small, relieved smile crept onto your face, and you let yourself melt into his embrace. “Thank you,” you whispered. “I just needed to hear that.”

He nodded, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “I want you to feel free to be yourself with me. I’m here because I want all of you, Y/N—all the real, unfiltered parts of you.”

You closed your eyes, taking in his words, letting them wrap around you like a promise. Finally, you looked up at him with a new lightness, feeling the tension in your chest ease.

“Alright,” you said softly, a hint of playfulness returning to your tone. “Then get ready, because the real me definitely wants Taco Bell at 2 a.m.”

Lewis chuckled, shaking his head with a fond smile. “Fine. But we’re getting fries, too.”

With your hand in his, you both headed out the door, leaving behind the weight of everyone else’s expectations. It was just you and Lewis—real, imperfect, and perfect for each other.

[ashkabbom]

Would it have worked? - Mouthwashing

A/n: I think it's important to let you know that I haven't written frequently for a long time, but following something new has made me excited and with a peak of creativity, I apologize if I wrote something wrong or said something wrong 😭 feel free to correct me 🫶🏽

Versão em português no wattpad: ashkabbom (Nome: Teria dado certo?)

I didn't write this in a romantic way, but please give my writing a chance 🙏🏽

Mini warnings: Mention of bullets and death of the main character, I think that's all?

When you arrived here, expectations and nervousness went hand in hand, but regardless of how strange and weird everything around you was, hope was something you insisted on having at all times. Tulpar will be a good or at least interesting experience.

You really made friends, don't think you didn't!

Having someone like Anya to talk to in the middle of the night when neither of you could sleep properly was comforting.

The dialogues you and Daisuke had were definitely something interesting, you got along well together, sometimes even Swansea was there too, claiming that two interns together wouldn't be a good idea.

Now, about the captain and him. The captain was actually quite calm, a very understanding man, sometimes he would join you and Anya at night... But he was something else. He could just be someone who was a little stressed and had a weird mood. There are a lot of people like that, right?

You remember talking to him and the captain a few times, but rarely, only when it was really necessary or just to relax.

A year transporting a load among so many stars, a load that you didn't even know what it was initially, it would be good to have a good relationship with the others on the ship, your companions after all.

You start to think as you stare at the sky projected on the huge screen, remembering the little conversation you had with your friend.

"Where do you think you would be if you hadn't come to work here?" Daisuke asks looking at you.

"Hmmm.. probably working in a supermarket I think. That was my option if this one didn't work out, so I would keep sending resumes to see if I could get a better job I think.." You say as you remember your old options, there weren't many, but there were still possibilities. "But what about you?"

"Honestly I don't know, I try to be positive about it.." Daisuke looked insecure and uncertain about where he could be now. "Would we still talk when we get back home? I don't know if I'm going to stay here after all this, their cake isn't the best." He tries to relax.

Out of all the people on this ship, Daisuke was the easiest to talk to and actually build some kind of relationship with, maybe because you two were the most positive in that situation.

Even with that foam everywhere on that ship, lost in a loud silence between the darkness and the stars, you were all going to make it back to Earth.

Maybe because you two were more naive than the others on that ship, the two sanest on that crew.

"Hey, you're a cool guy, I'm sure you'd be working in a good place!" A confident smile appears on your face, trying to dismiss your friend's worries. "Of course we would still talk to each other when we get back, we are friends after all, together here for months"

He smiles positively and you say not to go crazy before you, you laugh but are soon interrupted by Swansea asking what the hell you two were doing up in the middle of the night

It was kind of stupid. Maybe you two should have been a little more realistic about the situation. More than 4 or 5 months, shit, you didn't even have any sense of time anymore. No one had come looking for you yet. Had anyone noticed that you were missing and never contacted Pony Express again?

Sitting with your friends at that table, as if it were the day of that news, with everyone sitting together and the cake for the captain on the table.

Now, with a bullet hole in your forehead, along with your friends and that man, your head tilted to the side, you stare at the sky projected on the broken screen, wondering if this would have worked.

A/n: English is definitely not my first language, so I had a lot of translator help! Sorry for any nonsense words with other words.

I just wanted to write a little bit and I liked Mouthwashing, how the game approaches the theme of work and worker, each character's situation in relation to themselves and the general situation ^^. Feel free to tell me what you think of my writing and if you want me to write something, I wouldn't mind. 🎀

[pretty-blkgirl]

Soul’s Desire [Ch. 33]

- Masterlist -

~~~~|~~~~

“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head when you fell?”

“We can go back to the hospital if you need to”

“I swear to God I’ll get Eunji fired, she went too fucking far”

“Want some more food?”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“You sure you’re not concussed?”

“Security stopped me from going onstage when I saw you fall”

“You have a bruise on your arm”

Chan was nice enough to allow you some much-needed silence on the car ride to Han and Lee Know’s dorm, but as soon as you two stepped foot in the door, the other seven of your soulmates swarmed you.

Soon, eight worried men were surrounding you, offering food, questioning you, or ranting about how they were going to avenge you.

Han knew half the reason you were upset was because of the backlash you were getting, so that was the main topic after the boys ensured you were full and well-hydrated.

“This is so fucking frustrating” Felix, the usual peacemaker, seethed. You noticed he and Chan spoke English when they were pissed. Their accents were heavier than usual as they ranted to one another, offering solutions to your problems.

“Baby we’ll take care of this, don’t even worry about it” I.N sighed, giving you a look of sympathy

“How so? It’s not like you guys can tell people to stop talking shit about me”

“I can” Hyunjin shrugged, “And I will. Fuck my idol image, I’ll do whatever it takes to defend you”

You smile, “I appreciate that baby, but that’ll do more harm than good”

“A dating rumor will start. Dispatch will eat that shit right up” Seungmin noted, “Then she’ll get more hate. Then the company is involved, internal investigations, hiatuses maybe”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, his irritation apparent but he nodded, agreeing that speaking out may not be the best solution.

“All we can do is let this shit blow over. I mean, people are talking shit but I saw a bunch of Charms defending me”

“I’ve seen some Stays defending you too” Han pointed out, “Actually, anyone with sense is defending you”

“There shouldn’t be a need to defend her in the first place. People are mad because she had a medical emergency. That’s so stupid” Changbin ranted

“People are stupid” Chan sighed, frustration clear in his voice, “What do you wanna do y/nnie? How do you want to handle this?”

Eight pairs of eyes stared at you as you thought about the question. Really, what could you do?

“It can’t be helped” You conclude, “This is just… one of the downsides of being an idol. It sucks but I just gotta deal with it.”

“I’m so sorry baby” Felix frowns, tears welling up in his eyes. You dubbed Felix the “feeler” in the group. Whenever you felt like crying but you didn’t want to let those tears out, he’d do it for you. Same for if you wanted to laugh, or scream. He gave you that relief.

“I feel like we can at least get Eunji fired” Han groaned

“She said it was an accident, plus I can’t blame her entirely. I hadn’t eaten anything the entire day, part of it was my fault too”

“It wasn’t a damn accident” Changbin huffed, “And don’t blame yourself for anything. However, I’m gonna make it my mission to make sure you’re eating and drinking like you’re supposed to”

You nod, knowing when Changbin is serious about something, nothing is going to stop him from doing it.

“You know what? How about we all turn our phones off and just spend time together? No outside distractions, and especially no social media” Hyunjin suggested

Everyone agreed, but you made sure to send a message to your members and manager, letting them know your whereabouts.

I.N. ran to the kitchen and came back with a large plastic bowl. It had little cartoon cats on it, so you knew who it belonged to.

“Everyone put their phones in the bowl. We’re having a soulmate bonding night”

“You sound like Felix” Minho rolls his eyes but is the first to hand over his phone. The rest of you follow suit, with Hyunjin being the last one to do so.

“Let’s pop some popcorn and watch a movie” You suggest, “I’ll pick the movie”

“Nuh uh y/nnie” I.N. protests, “You have a habit of picking sad movies. We aren’t crying tonight”

“Let’s watch a scary movie,” Seungmin says

“Hell no” Chan and Felix seem to say at the same time

“Romance then” Hyunjin smiles

It’s you who sighs this time, “Hyunjin, please. You know I adore you, but nobody wants to see Titanic….again”

“I say we watch an Action Movie,” Changbin says excitedly, “Jurassic Park?”

“We watched that last time” Han whines

“Let’s just do a comedy” Minho grunts, grabbing the remote and picking a random streaming service

You all settle on a random movie you enjoy and the boys have never seen it.

The spacious living room was filled with laughter, sounds of sneaky kisses, and the crunching of popcorn as your movie marathon went on.

At some point, the movies stopped, and you all had sleepy conversations that lasted way longer than they should have.

Before you knew it though, you were curled up in Minho’s bed, wearing only a shirt you stole from his drawer.

You slept in a starfish position, leaving Minho to sneak off to Han’s room to get a chance at a comfortable night’s sleep.

The rest of the boys went to their respective dorms, all giving you a kiss goodnight before leaving.

You dreamt of sunny days and starry nights, lying on the grass with eight familiar faces huddled around you.

It was the best sleep you had gotten in years.

~~~~|~~~~

Taglist: @chuuyaobsessed @h0rnyp0t @prttyxbby @yukichan67 @hanniemylovelyquokka @xxeiraxx @loveforlee444 @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @cunninglibrarian @holly-here @galaxy4489 @hyunmikim @yougottobekittenme @hyeon-yi @katsukis1wife @multi-fandom-nightmare @staybabblingbaby @kozumesphone @fuck-you-im-gae @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @just-a-blackthorn-cookie @champagneconfetti @juju-227592 @borahae-reads @reallychaoticwoo

[ghostieblr]

he knows

When people ask him what changed his mind, why he's back in Beacon Hills instead of at the fancy FBI job he earned through merit and luck, he just smiles and laughs it up. Insists this is how it just worked out. That the job was good, and being in the field was surprisingly easy for him, but the remote research work landed on his lap once and he realized he'd much rather do that. Working the field was great, but being able to actually spend time with his old man gives him more joy.

The old ladies call him a good man, tell him he's such a good son, and share their own turmoils with him. The old men sneer at his choice until he lets slip just how much he makes, and then they're singing praises, too.

After a couple of weeks, the noise dies down. He is no longer the novelty, the townspeople ready to move on to the next new, shiny thing that catches their attention.

What doesn't die down is whatever is spreading inside him. The burn under his skin is licking up towards his heart, coming out through his pores, charring him to immobility as the sun dips down and comes back up.

After week three, he's unable to move from the bed, and none of their research is bringing about any clues. No one knows why this is happening to him, and they have all accepted this.

That he is going to die. There's no coming back, no cure for this sudden illness that has taken him. None of the books that Deaton provides, that Lydia translates and pours her time into, have a single clue.

It's not as painful, if he's honest. Not now. It was at the beginning, the heat sudden and startling, the pain that comes with it bright and unending. But he's been with it for a while now, gotten used to the constant warmth. A false sense of security.

The only thing left for him is to stop feeling altogether. At the rate his body is shutting down, it's not too far, now. Another day or two, maybe three if he's unlucky.

He's said his goodbyes. Told his father to keep on living, to not only honor the memory of mom, but his, too. There's grief laced in each of their interactions, each word spoken with a weight that brings tears to Stiles' eyes and a tremble that rocks his father's body. It's an ugly sight, and it so happens to be his last. Nearly his last.

His dad's a strong man, he'll survive. He's enlisted the help of Lydia to do so. Asked her to be the child he'll not get to be for him. Through teary eyes she had agreed, and he's watched the two of them get closer in their quest of trying to heal him, and then grieve him. She's like the daughter he never had, and she is good for him. Stops him from drinking alcohol and makes him healthy food, even when he refuses to listen, and Stiles can do nothing but lay on his bed as the voices float up from the kitchen.

Scott and him never did resolve their differences. Scott's been a part of his life enough to warrant him a last goodbye, and despite everything that has happened, Scott promised to him to be there for his dad. He promised many things, but has delivered none, and has only been by to see him on day one — when Stiles had allowed Lydia to bring in the McCall Pack to help him cure himself.

It's as if Stiles being dead was an accepted outcome for him, and Scott has grieved him to the point of utter indifference since. If he's grieving in silence that's another thing, but for now, Stiles isn't dead. People do come in and see him.

Lydia, of course. His dad. Jackson flew from London to come see him, and he hasn't left since, feet set like stone in Beacon Hills, despite the final acceptance of their failure. Isaac came with Jackson, and it's so silly, he thinks, that being on the verge of death can bring together people you would never see in one place by choice.

Kira has stopped by multiple times, as have Malia, Liam, Mason, Jordan, and surprisingly, Hayden. She insisted he's a hero, and cried while hugging him.

Scott hasn't come again. And, honestly, it's not as bothersome to Stiles as someone else not coming in to see him.

Cora has face-timed him, and Peter was there, he knows. The two of them were there, and when he'd asked about Derek, Cora had snapped out, "He's an idiot," while Peter had calmly told Stiles, "He's determined."

Stiles is smart enough to put together the fact that Derek has been pursuing his own leads to find the cure, but he'd hoped that once the finality of his situation reached him, he'd see Derek one last time.

He wouldn't burden Derek with the knowledge of his own feelings. Wouldn't confess like in the fairytales, and hope for a true love's miracle. Stiles is honest to himself these days, and he'd rather go with unconfessed feelings than burden Derek, because somewhere in their interactions, Stiles has developed a pure hatred for anything that could even remotely hurt Derek.

He supposes this is love, and how ironic is it, that this is the most intense feeling he's ever had, and he can't even speak aloud about it?

So he lounges in his bed, waiting for the light to take him. Each time he closes his eyes he knows he's closer to never opening them again, and tonight, as he hears Lydia turn the pages of a book, and Jackson walking outside in the hallway, and his dad sobbing in his own room, and Isaac cooking, he just wishes tonight's the night. He cannot have the people he care about clinging onto false hope.

He closes his eyes, and behind his eyelids, he sees his family. He sees his mom, beckoning him; his parents, smiling, as he runs towards them for a family hug; Lydia, when she told him she loves him in the Jeep, and the night when he came back, declaring that he's not supposed to leave her, ever; Jackson and Isaac laughing at his expense, but not in a mean way, instead enjoying each other's company like the friends they've become these days; Derek, as the last time Stiles saw him, smiling softly at him while he rambled on about the way he convinced the FBI to let him join the mission that saved Derek's ass.

He remembers, with immense clarity, the moment he realized he's in love with Derek. The heartbreak of saying goodbye to him, of watching his brows furrow at the clear lie of, "You should go," and hesitant step forward he'd taken before realizing it.

He'd said, "You should go or Cora will leave," and left the, "I want her to," unsaid.

He sleeps, and wishes to dream about a world where Derek didn't leave and things happened differently. Where somehow, they found their way to each other, and Stiles never got ill like this.

Instead, he dreams about a purple light guiding him to a tunnel that simply looks white, like that is all there is.

He follows.

He doesn't wake up, again.

At least, that's what he thinks — until his eyes open and he's face-to-face with —

"Derek?"

*

The whole place is white. The only splash of color exists on Stiles himself, his clothes rumpled with sleep, and on Derek, whose jeweled eyes are shimmering with unshed tears and sparkling joy.

"Derek, what the hell did you do?!"

Derek doesn't deem that a question worthy of replying. Instead the werewolf picks him up and hugs him so tight Stiles worries about not being able to breathe, and then realizes, with a startling clarity, that he is not in pain.

Still in embrace, he asks, a little choked up, "Why am I not in pain?"

Derek takes an exaggerated sniff before reluctantly pulling back and fixing him with a look that screams of resplendent joy, but also like he's waiting for a reprimand. He says, "This is Bardo."

Stiles stills. "Bardo," he repeats. He's dived into enough books to hear what Derek is leaving unsaid. Bardo is where spirits go after dying. It's an in-between space for spirits with unfinished business, one that opens only on a land with a Nemeton on it. Beacon Hills fits the criteria for it, and Stiles the criteria for having wishes he didn't get in his life, but he doesn't... He doesn't fit the other criteria. "Derek Nobody Will Tell Me What Your Middle Name Is Hale, that place — which apparently is this place, what the hell — is for supernatural spirits. Me?" He laughs, humorless and frantic. "I am not a supernatural creature. I'm just a human who used to run with a Pack."

Derek's worry melts away into nothing, as if Stiles would miss the fact that for Derek to be here, he has to be dead.

"Don't think I don't understand that you're dead, too! Deliberately!"

There. That is the face of a chastised puppy. "But it worked?" Stiles squints his eyes and motions for Derek to go on, who sighs but complies with the command. "The illness that took you was a Supernatural fever, last recorded with a Spark centuries ago. I tracked down the journal —"

"Wait, hold on, Spark? Where have I heard that word..." The Vet clinic, years ago. The Kanima in the club. The mountain ash line that never should have formed because there was much too less of it to complete the circle. As the realization hits, he closes his eyes and rests his fists against them. He isn't ashamed to let out a scream of rage as well.

When he lets his arms fall back down to his side, Derek takes one of them and starts rubbing comforting circles on the back of his hand. "You are one," he says softly, like he's trying not to spook Stiles with the declaration. Like Stiles' world didn't just shift irrevocably as he put the pieces together. "I don't really understand why your powers never unlocked, because traditionally speaking they should have kicked in your teen years. With the added clusterfuck of those years they definitely should have. They did not."

Again, he laughs humorlessly, and gives Derek a "duh" look. "Our lives have rarely dared to be traditional." He thinks back to all the awful things that have happened over the years to him, but mostly, as Derek put it, in those years. The Nogitsune was definitely the worst thing to happen to him, and holy shit. "Do you think it chose me because of my power? Rather than her?"

Derek doesn't answer for a moment. Then he says, "I think that is why you survived. Because of your Spark."

Oh. That... makes sense. Sort of. But that is the past, and they're in the present, and they're in fucking Bardo of all places. "Derek, I think I really need an explanation. Like right now. Including why you thought killing yourself was the best fucking idea."

Derek winces, but he also looks determined once Stiles' glare eases off of him. And they're still holding hands, which he realizes with a warmth he actually enjoys feeling. "When I got the call, I had an inkling... So I followed my instincts and ended up at probably our oldest vault."

"You knew what I am." He doesn't even feel angry. Somehow, Derek knowing a thing about him that nobody else does (and he is not counting Deaton as a factor here at all, that cryptic asshole), it feels nice.

Derek uses his free hand to tap at his chest, once, twice. "Instincts," he says, with the same effect as saying, "Werewolf," like he once used to, as if that was the answer to everything. "This illness confirmed it for me. I found a journal at the vault that belonged to that Spark, and in it, he detailed how the illness felt, how it spread, and how within weeks he could do nothing but lay on his cot." Derek swallows, his voice turning rough with choked up emotions. "Stiles, just reading it was so awful. I can't imagine..."

Derek Hale doesn't cry. He feels deeply, and he cares even deeper, but he doesn't cry, not in front of people.

But Stiles is not most people, and he is aware enough to know that he is, for some reason, one of the people who is most important to Derek. So as Derek breaks down at the idea of Stiles' suffering, Stiles reaches forward and brings his arms around Derek.

"I'm here," he assures, over and over again, until the words are stronger than Derek's shaking. "I'm right here," he says one last time, and stays close to the man he loves most for an indeterminate amount of time, silently not-breathing together.

Stiles breaks the silence with, "I love you, you know?" He had promised to not say it to Derek. To not burden him. But here they are, in Bardo. Together. A Pack of two who would do all that is possible and all that is not to protect the other. Derek deserves to know he is loved.

The way Derek's arms tighten around him says he doesn't know. And when Derek pulls back, just a little to stare at Stiles like this is unbelievable, Stiles pulls him back in by grabbing his hands and putting one on his chest, the other on his face. He kisses the inner palm of the latter, and smiles brightly. "Never thought I'd say it. Especially once I was on my deathbed. Still hate that you chose to die with me, but I'm hoping you have a plan, and you deserve to know. You're amazing and I love you, Derek Hale."

The smile he gets is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, and Derek presses forward until their foreheads are resting against each other's. "Samuel," he says.

"Derek Samuel Hale? Samuel like Sam and Dean's grandpa?"

Derek does a snort-chortle thing, then says in the small space between them, "Shut up, Stiles."

"Shutting up."

The silence stretches, and they stay together, seizing the moment. Who knew Bardo could be peaceful? Except...

"Our escape plan? See, I'd love to explore you biblically anywhere and everywhere, but I would much rather do it on —"

"Stiles."

Derek's look of scandalized horror makes Stiles laugh until he's being hauled off in his strong, muscled arms like a sack of potatoes and starts walking. "I don't know why I love you too."

"This is just sexy. I don't think you know what you're doing to me."

"I can still smell your arousal, Stiles. I know."

"You know loads of things. What else do you know?" He says it in a simpering, sexy voice, and then giggles as Derek stumbles a step before balancing himself.

"I know how to escape. We need a bed, yes? So stop distracting me and let me do my thing."

Stiles is just glad he is already in Derek's arms, because otherwise he would have swooned and fallen into them.

The escape plan is easy and a let down, if he's being completely honest. What they need are:

A Spark's Belief ✅️

An Alpha's Roar ✅️ (When did Derek become an Alpha again?)

An Anchor on The Other Side ✅️ (Peter)

An Incantation That Derek Has Memorized ✅️

To Stand Where The Veil is Thinnest ✅️ (Derek's instincts strike yet again)

All in all, it is very anti-climactic, and very dirty as they end up materializing in a clearing near the Nemeton which is muddy. Peter looks one look at them and says, "Finally."

Stiles isn't sure if he meant it for them coming back or for Stiles and Derek finally confessing to each other. Either way, Peter hands them clean clothes and agrees to drive them back to Stiles' house, where apparently everyone is in a panic because "Stiles dissappeared."

"It's only been like, an hour or something," Stiles says, confused, as he changes into the clean t-shirt while Peter faces the other way and Derek stares, unabashed, much to Peter's verbal disgust.

Peter takes a break from chastising his nephew to say, "It's been 72 hours."

Huh.

"We should get going then," he says, and Peter sighs.

"If only you could ask my dear nephew to rein in his urges."

Stiles throws Derek a glare, who rolls his eyes but obliges. However the glare the turns into an appreciative look over Derek's abs, and Peter throws up his hands.

*

Acclimating to having magic is easy when he already has an anchor. Derek's presence is both wanted and needed, and despite Scott's insistence that another Alpha cannot stay in town, Derek stays as long as Stiles does.

Two weeks pass before Stiles calls back his boss and lets her know that he's now alright, and then he's promptly being shipped off to another state for a case. Everyone has already congratulated him on both being alive and doing something about his pining, so they throw a simple dinner on his last night in town and Stiles watches, with amusement and fondness, as all the people in his heart mingle with easy conversations and banter.

Peter chooses to stay in town to reconnect with Malia in person, while Cora deems it better to go back to her Pack in South America. Lydia and Jackson leave together for London, but Isaac decides to stay back.

When Stiles asks him why, he says, "Liam needs a good mentor. His control is weak. I can help him, plus, Derek needs a pack."

Stiles raises an eyebrow. "Liam is Scott's beta," he says.

"None of them have a pack bond," Isaac fire backs, and oh.

Derek must have heard the conversation, too, because he comes over and claps Isaac on the back, proud and all smiley, and Stiles can't help but lean in to kiss it. To taste the constant joy off of Derek's face, to give him his own in return. The action is met with Derek's soft moan and a ring of disgusted groaning from the others, including his dad's.

Stiles laughs after he pulls back, and looks around at the lot of them. There's tragedy woven into all of their lives, but there's also happiness.

Who knew getting ill would lead to this? To re-founding a family?

Maybe Derek knew, the bastard. Loveable bastard, though.

[legally-allowed-to-slime]

Can’t even lie man I’ve been offline all day and i immediately went to your blog to read your takes on the session and Pearl n gem n co. after watching some wild life. Thanks for having the best takes lol

genuinely, it’s an honour. crazy to me that anyone would come to this blog for good takes, they never make any sense and i’m always suspiciously resentful towards c!scott. i’ll take this opportunity to lay out my gempearl thoughts as well

first of all, it drives me insane the way pearl usually goes along with whatever scott and cleo says, but the only thing she consistently, and has repeatedly, contradicted them on is that she’s been antagonising gem. in fact at the start of the session scott poked her about it again and she laid out a short monologue to assert that his claims were invalid. funnily enough she goes back on this a few seconds later saying that “i’ll make her have a reason to hold that grudge” which honestly is not helping her case. however if gem can make vague threats about impulse i don’t see why pearl can’t do the same. women’s wrongs and all that.

and then after that scott tells impulse and pearl to apologise to gem and joel. again, it’s a bit odd to me how they keep harping on this bit, but every time they do, all they do is scold impulse for rightfully constantly accusing gem over the cows, and then impulse apologises, yet pearl is still implicated (for NOTHING). pearl did protest this point earlier that she was “just existing”, scott counters that “i don’t know what you’ve done but you’ve annoyed her”, so “keep your distance”.

and to think that the argument only happened because scott made a throwaway comment about a “request” he had for pearl if she wanted a life from him. i feel like he meant it as a funny aside and expected pearl to just shut up and take it, but pearl never shuts up and takes it so that’s the problem there.

also, on secret life: pearl argues that she was right to ally with scar, which like, okay, fair enough, but scott says that “it takes time” and that “look we’re together” i’m not sure why he’s under the perception that GGG is in anyway functional or healthy considering he himself is trashtalking impulse and pearl with gem geminitay (ok sorry i’m just salty over him being buddy buddy with gem). at one point cleo goes “we have to be enablers” (lowkey incorrect because pearl hasn’t done anything, you can’t enable someone to just do nothing, but i appreciate the sentiment) and pearl just starts. throwing eggs at the ground. really funny out of context.

now for the actual gempearl interaction (we get like one and a half per episode i’m actually starving). they’re so obsessed with each other. trust me i said so. pearl beelining to gem to say “hi gem! :D” and gem beelining to pearl to punch her and say “go home pearl” oh they make me ill i feel like they’re just constantly on each other’s minds. the problem is that we haven’t gotten a good gempearl interaction because when they’re near each other their allies are also hanging around, so it always ends up with gem getting glazed by scott or pearl getting distracted by bigb or something like that. it’s such a pity because gem specifically went to find the 4Gs’ base but she went to the old one instead of the new one where pearl was hanging around so we could have potentially gotten a 1 on 1 shiny duo interaction this session (i’m not sure about the timeline there) but we DIDN’T because gem’s not talked to the 4Gs enough to know that they moved bases. grrr.

and then gem drops the anger for a bit to encourage pearl to kill grian. i have NO idea what that’s about, i feel like she’s just into bloodthirst in general but what it does remind me of is her trying to convince pearl to kill the ender dragon in SL, coincidentally, when pearl was impulse’s butler. and now she’s encouraging pearl to carry out what impulse wants. i don’t know. maybe her type is murderers and she’s trying to give pearl a chance. or something

anyway as for the other half an interaction where gem finds etho pearl and cleo at her base, gem reverts back to loudly disparaging pearl within earshot. i feel like she’s nailed “ex who really wants you to know that you’re exes”, and pearl getting so indignant about it she can’t even form a sentence for a few seconds is great actually. might be a reach but whether on hermitcraft or life series, pearl tends to stumble over her words a lot when directly challenged by gem, which is probably just because she’s thinking hard on what to say and is sleep deprived half the time. but i find it pretty telling that pearl doesn’t say anything back to gem and just. leaves. it’s very obvious she’s still down bad for gem in a way but gem is intentionally making it very hard for pearl to remain so.

last paragraph. when joel visits pearl at their new base, joel is happy that pearl called his build a car and said she liked it (pearl likes cars fork found in kitchen). so joel and pearl are on good terms, which i expect would lead to interesting dynamics but at the same time joel would definitely follow gem’s lead over maintain that friendship but still his perception of pearl now is positive. so that’s intriguing

song of the day is down bad by taylor swift. trust me guys they want each other so bad

[outrunningthedark]

Do you ever get that uncomfy feeling about fandom dissecting cast interviews and heavily interacting and sharing interactions? Like I ship (shipped? Put off by parasocialness and lfj love) bucktommy and buddie but the fandom is so offputting.

Like appreciating the cast ofc is fair and fun but I cant help but feel like, this broken wall of seperation makes finishing or reaolving the bucktommy break up less likely.

I think im overthinking a bit, but this buddie outrage, lfj sharing posts and interacting, people bashing OS about his wording, like the idea that in 8B. Tim and whoever thinks, okay they should come back. The idea of those actors having to interact after all this (in sone ways) overblown drama makes me cringe and i cant properly express why. Maybe its the lack of escapism?

I cant fully express my thoughts on this properly but i have agreeed with most of your posts on the subject. You articulate stuff well.

Dont mean to bash people that love to follow the cast closely but idk when i see it all blur on my page, i get so weirded out. Anyway ignore if this makes no sense or is irrelevant.

I do get what you're trying to say, and that's where the root of the issues with Oliver's behavior stems from. We, as a fandom, should not be able to *notice* when a particular cast member is being left out of cast moments behind the scenes. Yes, he was professional on set and got through his scenes, but the ONLY reason people have started to put two and two together re: his concerns over "backlash" is because of we just saw happen while Lou was on the show. Before, we could tell ourselves "Well maybe Oliver's just tired of these forced hetero relationships that will go nowhere". But now his character is canonically queer. And he chose not to acknowledge the story line outside of one post that got deleted and a couple of stories. (One of which was most definitely advised for good PR given how he recorded it on the fly - Bi Visibility Day). Viewers should have been able to watch the story line with NO preconceived notions of how anybody really felt. Viewers should have been able to feel sad about the break up without Oliver immediately jumping into a story about how HE TEXTS THE GUY WHO WROTE TOMMY OFF to let Buck go back to his 1.0 phase. Viewers should have been able to believe the guy who seemed so excited to celebrate his character's coming out sympathized with the disappointment. But because Oliver only worries about the hate HE receives, because Oliver puts HIS feelings first when telling a queer (potential) love story on tv, fandom is left to wonder whether he even liked the direction of Buck's story line, whether he actually DID have anything to do with Tommy get written off as quickly as he did. Fans look into things because Oliver leaves the door open.

[riahreadz]

Okay ideal Teen Wolf fanfic pack Take 2! 🎬 Sterek✨️

If Derek is Alpha, then obviously Stiles is Pack Mom and Alpha Mate.

All the good fics have Peter as a good little wolf or at least relatively good to the Hale Pack whilst protecting them doing some dirty work as the Left Hand. Peter and Stiles, as best friends, 🤌🏼✨️ is just t it's golden. Derek honestly gets scared when they team up - he knows it'll never end well, especially if Erica is involved. Peter supplies Stiles with all the family heirloom books and artifacts or from his own personal collections.

Stiles just has a habit of collecting Hales, first Derek, then Peter, Cora, and even Malia.

And in the rarity that I read a fic where Ell isn't Stiles's son well Stiles took one look at the kid (maybe before he even knew Eli was Derek's) and filed him under Lost (Hale) PuppyTM Derek is particularly fond of Stiles's seemingly sixth sense when it comes to protecting the Hales. Despite also yelling at the younger man who can't get it through his thick skull that putting himself in the line of danger won't help Derek losing him anymore than losing another Hale.

Somewhere along the way, Peter gets back together with Chris cause, yes, they dated as teens with an unfortunate near 20-year pause due to the Argent/Hale shit show extravaganza. They are raising their teen/young adult daughters Allison and Malia as sisters - bonus points if Jackson and Malia are twins.

Now I can't for some reason ever really see Allison and Isaac being romantically involved after her death and resurrection. Usually, Stiles figures some way to bring her back,and going forward, she gets back with Scott, Issac becomes dependent on Chris as a father figure, so Allison and Issac are just good friends once she's back. OR he sees Derek as a brother or father figure kinda situation being the Alpha that originally turned him, and skips over the emotional attachment to Chris all together.

Malia and Kira make for an interesting side ship that I never saw coming but a cute addition lol

Boyd and Erica are mates, obviously. Erica is a little shit just like Stiles and especially teaming up with Stiles, but Boyd balances her crazy. Crazy fun that iS.

I do love a good fic with Cora being involved. The dynamic of her and Derek finding their footing once again as siblings just makes me super emotional, okay? Plus, Cora and Isaac make for a good couple/mates.

Given that I love a good bad friend Scott fic, Isaac has pulled away from following Scott like a lost puppy. His lost puppy status belongs to Cora or Derek, depending on whose good side he's trying to get on that day. But back to Scott - his main roll usually is to tear down Stiles or attempt to anyway. Usually, Allison is there to gather his wits back together and reel him back into being a good friend. I'im game with a good redemption arc for him, but it ain't required.

Lydia and Stiles make a good team, and she makes a damn good motivational ass kicker when Stiles needs one, which is usually at least once in every fic, let's be honest. She's either with Jackson or just a bad ass that doesn't need a partner to ground her. Jackson is still an asshole - it's why we love him. But he and Stiles develop a pretty decent friendship when they bond over healing from losing control from the Kanima and Void. He'd kill to protect Stiles. They all would. He's with Lydia, Danny, or Ethan.

Now we can't forget Sheriff Stilinski, rather his name is Noah or John, he's a big player in this pack. Despite being only human, he has a lot of sway when it comes to this rag-tag group of puppies and puppy adjacents. Derek and him make for a good team in the fics. Derek is a deputy. Or just the Sheriff adopting Derek as an unofficial Stilinski once he realizes his son won't ever let go of the Hales but especially one Derek Hale - plus it's easier to expain to his across-the-street-neighbor that Derek is family rather than filter through the panicked 911 calls of astrange man in a black leather jacket climbing once again through his son's bedroom window. Cause the Hales don't know how to use front doors - a trait they passed along to the whole pack like a worst kept secret family tradition.

Oh, and it's recently been brought to my attention that the Sheriff is in a secret relationship with his deputy Jordan and eventually gets exposed by Stiles seeing them on a date. Bonus points if it turns into a double date. Didn't know I needed this one until I needed it. However, I'm down for seeing him with Melissa or even a thropple with Chris and Peter. If he's with Melissa, then Scott has to have a redemption arc, or he was the good best friend/step brother all along.

And last but certainly not least, Eli Hale or shall I say Eli Stilinski-Hale or Hale-Stilinski? Doesn't matter as long as we all can agree that Elis Stiles's son. l'm not picky on whether it's adoption, mpreg, or Stiles and Derek got together after Eliwas born. Stiles. Is. Eli's. Father.

If some of this seems repeated from my Steter Ideal Pack - well, that's cause it is, lol. I wrote this first but finished Steter before Sterek. I'll probably rewrite this cause it's rushed, but I need to get it out to link for my Secret Santa in the Sterek Exchange.

✋️🛑 Now, all of this is just my personal preference on fics I've read. A lot of these obviously stray from the actual character on the show but 🤷🏻‍♀️ show canon meet 🫱🏻‍🫲🏽 one person's fanfic canon. All respect and rights for the cast and crew in bringing these characters to life, though. Also, I'm not saying that I won't read fics that don't include this stuff - like I've mentioned just some stuff I've read over the years and liked. ✋️🛑

[mysteriouslyjovialcolor]

Germany 2019

-Oh the last German GP?

-Lewis and Max first row! Pierre in Red Bull. Lando and Sebastian last row?!

-Look at that, they’re racing in the rain. Albeit, starting under safety car

-“Safety car needs to come in already. Come on let’s go” Lewis’ beef against the safety car will never not be funny

-They’ve done like three formation laps or as they’re calling it: “exploration laps”

-“How are conditions Max?” “Yeah, perfect to go, I don’t understand why we are not racing”

Lewis 🤝 Max: wanting to go race

-Haha all of the cars glitched for a second before the start

-And now Max has somehow dropped five places, wth

-Kimi p3 🙌

-Sebastian too, making up many places! P20 to p14!

-Oh Max back to p3!

-Kevin and Checo squabbling…Checo’s in the wall

-This is giving Brazil 2016 with the multiple safety cars

(Try not to compare every wet race to Brazil 2016 challenge failed)

-Sebastian and Alex falling back to p18 and p19 after stopping for tires :/

-Almost every driver pitting now

-Mercedes double stack!

-Holy shit Kevin is p2 (That’s a rare sight to see)

-All of those pit stops shuffled up the lineup so much. Lance is p5, Nico p7, George p9!

-I don’t think the Williams pit because they’re somehow both in the points

-Yeah, George pit now

-Sebastian finally in the points

-Oh shit Danny p17?

-Aah Charles, Kevin, and Nico fighting for p4

-Pierre running wide! he’s fallen to p19 :((

-Kimi’s still as formidable as ever in that Alpha Romeo

-“Raikkonen turned a threat into an opportunity” yesss Kimi!

-“The three at the front are traveling much faster than anyone else”

-Aw I forgot this was Nico’s home race too

-Engine problem for Daniel :/

-Another safety car? Virtual safety car?

-More pit stop games

-“Just be patient Max” GP has got to be the calmest man ever

-“So you are the fastest car on track” Let’s go Charles!

-Carlos slipping off the track??

-“Sorry guys, that was unfortunate” Yeah, top ten to p14

-“Leclerc is now 7 laps off leading this race” Oh?? Are we about to get Max vs Charles??

-Ferrari trying a gamble with Sebastian’s tires

-“They’re in the clouds of the gods now” Sometimes these commentators go unnecessarily hard

-Red Bull playing a gamble too

-“Lando Norris power slide out of the pit” That looked very cool actually

-Max doing an involuntary donut. I’m not sure if that gamble played off

-Oh shit Lando’s lost power. VSC once again

-Charles p2! At least one driver’s strategies are somewhat working

-Ohmygodd he’s out!! I actually gasped out loud! That was so unexpected!!!

-Aaah that sucks so bad

-The actual safety car is back

-I’m still in shock

-Ohmygod this is all so chaotic!

-Lewis almost went into the wall and damaged his front wing!

-The pit crew weren’t ready for him!! They’re scrambling! He’s lost so many places!!

-Nico’s p3 now ohmygod

-This is still lap 30 of 64. We’re not even halfway through

-Valterri pitting as well, Max leading now

-Everyone’s on inters

-Nico p2 at his home race😭 (I’m going to cry when he loses that) (What do I have to do for him to just stay there???)

-I can’t believe Lewis got a 5s time penalty for going on the “wrong side of the bollard at the pit entry”

-How does that even make sense? It’s not like it affected any other car but his

-Alex though! In p4, holding Lewis back in that Toro Rosso

-??? Lewis under investigation again???

-Valterriiiii stay away from Hulkenburggggg

-Noooooo Valterri whyyyy

-Can’t even hope for p3 now because it’s Lewis who’s behind him

-At this point let him just finish the race please

-“Rare to see Kimi Raikkonen making a mistake” Yes, it was devastating (at least he recovered still in the points)

-Someone kill me, Nico’s out

-“That’s so terrible for him! I was just about to say what a phenomenal run he’s having. He would so have deserved to finally maybe have a chance even for a podium because we still don’t know what penalties Lewis is gonna have. Ohmygod, that’s heartbreaking. Poor guy” Me and Nico Roseberg commiserating together

-“I’m still looking forward to Lewis coming up to Bottas now though. That’s going to really really cause internal team battle there; coming up” And Nico R is now hoping for inter-team drama. He moved on pretty fast. I’m still here (crying over Hulkenburg and his dream slipping away right through his fingers)

-“Right call, right tire, right time” Max: the only one carrying me through this race now

-“Nico Hulkenburg never retired from his home race at the German Grand Prix before” Why must they keep rubbing it in??

-“Verstappen’s pitted 4 times in this race so far” This race is actually insane

-I’m actually still sad about Nico. He was so close! God, why does he have such bad luck!

-None of these commentators talking about how Alex casually made up 12 places and has stayed in p4?? In a Toro Rosso?!

-Ohmygod I should just shut up, why’d he loose a place…two places…and he’s gone wide and dropped down to p8; someone kill me.

-Max pitting again????

-Where did Sebastian randomly gain speed from? Ohmygodd Kimi too? They’re p3 and p2?! What is going on???

-Somehow Lance is in p5 all the way from p15. I did not see that coming. He was the only car who pit for slick tires with the safety car earlier and now with everyone pitting again, this has worked out great for him

-Holy shit Lance is leading the race

-Lewis, Kimi, and Sebastian all pit and now Lance is leading and Max is back up to p2 and somehow Daniil Kvyat is p3 and just set the fastest lap

-Wet races always bring so many surprises. This is all so insane. I feel like I’ve just hallucinated half of this

-Max leading again

-I forgot about Lewis’ penalty 😭 The grid positions changed so drastically, it almost feels like it got reversed

-“How has it got this bad?” Honestly Lewis I actually don’t know

-Aww kinda wanted Lance to stay p2, he missed out on it so narrowly last time he was on the podium

-Haha Valterri about to take p3 from him now, he’s the one who took p2 from his last time I think, if I remember correctly

-Checo looking on from the pit box>>

-Oh shit Valterri is out! God, Mercedes are not having a good race are they? Lewis in p14 (last) pitting again (his sixth time) and Valterri out

-This safety car probably not going to help Lance keep podium position, what with Carlos and Sebastian right behind him at the restart

-“Good for the smaller teams. This is their kinda day” Don’t I know it (maybe it’s something about pink teams?)

-Aah Sebastian right behind Lance now! If he makes podium now he’d have gone from p20 to p3!

-And he’s done it!!

-Oh bloody hell, Pierre’s gone off. He’s not having a fun day either

-Ohmygod Sebastian p2!!! Imagine if he wins?!!

-“And you’re either wearing orange this weekend or red” yesss, the orange army going wild!!

-It is so insane to me that seven cars are out

-Honestly, Lance p4 is cool too, his race did not start out well (and Carlos p5 🙌)

-I wish Sebastian was still racing 😢

-Genuinely didn’t ever expect to see a Daniil Kyvyat podium; when I was watching the races from the past few seasons he barely finished a race

-This podium is kind of a Red Bull family reunion if you think about it

-‘Tis very cute

(Would be better if Nico had finished the race but I’ll take my wins where I can get them)

(Also! I just looked up the race results again cause I forgot if Kimi placed 6th or 7th and he hasn’t placed either??! Apparently he got a post race penalty for some infringement!? That’s so annoying)

(Oh however, that means Lewis did end up in the points after all)

(The more you know)

(Ohmygod, I just noticed that Fernando is not here?!?? How did I miss that when I watched Brazil 2019?!)

(I’m crashing out. I need sleep)

[impactrueno]

do you have any thoughts on how betelgeuse clearly thinks delores is out to kill him a second time even though she seems to be trying to get back together?

she says "your soul belongs to me, my love" so i think she was very much intending to suck his soul and kill him (again)

the thing is, like we established, she's a complete freak. if you thought beetlejuice's brain was hard to figure out, try figuring this chick out.

delores is to beetlejuice what beetlejuice is to lydia. and since beetlejuice already is a creepy freak, he's gonna need his own personal "beetlejuice" to be even worse than him for this analogy to work.

she wants to kill him. but she also loves him. creepily.

very creepily.

this ends up making beetlejuice's feelings for lydia seem downright wholesome in comparison.

i feel like this isn't gonna make much sense to people who haven't seen other characters with this flavor of murderous love so i'm gonna try to explain the best i can: you guys ever listen to my chemical romance? LMAO

stories about characters who end up murdering their lovers aren't that uncommon. it's a very gothic horror thing...in these stories the concept of love is always a little twisted and macabre. sometimes there's characters killing their lovers and then themselves so they can be together forever in the afterlife. and sometimes they're so passionate and obsessed over their lover that they kill them so no one else can have them.

i think delores fits the latter. if delores sucks beetlejuice's soul, his soul would be intertwined with hers, forever. maybe she sees this as the ultimate act of love.

and then there's the aspect of revenge. they did, after all, murder each other. of course she's gotta be pissed that he murdered her, even if she did poison him first. it's a very "you think you can escape me, my love? now i'm really going to make you mine, this time forever" type thing. it's both a punishment and an act of love. she's fucked up like that.

i think one could argue that she doesn't actually love beetlejuice and that she's just hunting him down for revenge. but the argument that she loves him and doesn't want to suck his soul? nah i don't buy that one. he's got every right to be frightened by her.

[nightlyrequiem]

Be Still My Heart

Chapter 9- An Explosive Setback

Masterlist AO3

New Chapter Every Saturday

You're the best in the meth industry but a new product suddenly pops up. You and your boss, Valeria, must figure out who is making it so you can take back the market. All the while tension is building between the two of you.

A/N: Valeria is kind of mean this chapter. She gets nicer in the next one, pinky promise

Tags/Warnings: Illegal Substances, Boss Employee Relationship, Angst, Some Hurt/Comfort, Violence, Manipulation, Suggestive Themes, Smut (But Only in CH20.), Dual POV

There's a cobweb in the corner of the lab. Fine, silvery strings of silk woven together in an intricate pattern. A large spider inhabits it. Evidence of it's dinners existing as dried out corpses of flies and whatever else was unlucky enough to wander into it's web. another spider, a smaller one slowly crawls along the wall. Carefully approaching the web. For whatever reason you're unable to look away. anticipating a fight among them. The smaller spider steps one leg onto the web. Sending invisible vibrations down to the owner, who is hidden in a crack in the wall. It's legs dart out inquisitively. The intruder steps onto the web, walking along the silk with minimal caution. Just a few more. The larger spider darts out and attacks. You watch the spiders strike out with their thin legs. Imagining their tiny fangs - too small to pierce through human skin - sinking into each other's exoskeletons. You had assumed the larger of the two would win. It has home field and size to it's advantage but to your surprise, the larger one falls still. Having succumbed the smaller one's venom.

You turn away to get back to work. Losing interest after witnessing the conclusion to such a riveting fight between arachnids. A part of you is still bitter over not being accepted by your peers. Though you aren't sure why. It's not like you respect most of them. Valeria is really the only one you can feel any glimmers of respect for. Even Diego, to a minuscule extent holds some. Whatever. It doesn't matter. What does matter is perfecting your craft. Maybe you'd be able to be better if you had taken more than just high school level chemistry but it's nothing more than a small obstacle. Sweet Meth was a huge step in the right direction. You want to go further. 

You're pouring over chemistry textbooks. Trying to ignore the headache behind your eyes. That's probably why you never pursued anything more then you had to. Though your ability to work with and understand chemicals is certainly higher than the average person, you aren't all knowing. There's a dark area within your mind where your knowledge just ends. You pertain a certain intrigue in the chemical world but learning about it always bored you. Mixing them and learning about what they do is okay enough but you couldn't tell anyone what the charge for a phosphors atom is. Truth be told, learning gives you a headache.

What's worse is you're giving yourself a headache for no reason because nothing in this textbook is making sense. Your eyes might as well be glazed over as you scan the words that are slowly beginning to morph into other things. Lines curving in ways they shouldn't making it harder for you to read. Nothing is telling you or even hinting at what chemical is responsible for addiction. Of course, that would be dopamine, but you don't have access or any clue in how to trigger it. What chemical causes the brain to release it? You wouldn't know because this dumb textbook won't tell you. You set the textbook aside and decide to just figure it out through trial and error. Like the forefathers of science did. Ecstasy is pretty addictive and it makes the user feel euphoric. Both of which would have someone coming back for more. Sodium Hydroxide is what you need. 

With your body suited up you carefully measure out your ingredients. Sulfuric Acid, liquidated sugar, Acetone. Sodium Hydroxide. You carefully mix it with Red Phosphorus and heat it. All you have to do is figure out the proper ratio for Sodium Hydroxide and you'll have perfected the Sugar Meth. You allow yourself to glimpse into a small fantasy of yours. Your meth is a success and completely out selling the other stuff. Nobody says anything but you can feel the grudging respect. Right as you turn around to check on the Red Phosphorus and Sodium Hydroxide mix, the flask it's boiling in explodes. Shooting glass shards flying in every direction. It's not a small explosion either. Expensive equipment is damaged and the force of the explosion itself throws you against one of the big metal containers. The back of your head slams into it and there's an angry pain in your ribs.

Your vision swims as things catch fire. You barely register the shrapnel sticking out of your arm and chest. You panic. Worried about burning to death even though you know the smoke is more likely to kill you first. You attempt to get up and only make it halfway to your feet before your ribs cramp. You gasp and crumple to the ground. Only embedding a long piece of glass further into your forearm. Fire blazes out of control in only a matter of seconds. Reaching the contained pseudoephedrine. Your arms and chest are wet with blood. You feel like a scared animal. You try to crawl towards the stairs, but you can feel that light, numbness spreading through your body. You pass out before you can reach them.

                            *                             *                          *

In the darkness, you begin to register a sensation. Something distantly painful. your brain attempts to ignore it but when it sharpens you wake. It takes only a second for the pain to rush you. Descending upon you like a pack of rabid dogs. The lights are bright and there's an older man kneeling next to your side, weaving a needle and thread through your arm. You can feel a small pop each time the needle penetrates through your skin. You hiss in pain and jerk away.

"Keep still." He barks. Roughly grabbing your arm. 

You look around. Confused and still dazed. This doesn't look like a hospital. Valeria is in the corner, gaze dark and arms crossed over her chest.

You're still at the compound.

"Ow!" You flinch. Turning and looking at the 'doctor.'

"Whoops, sorry. I have shaky hands." He murmurs. A dot of blood wells up where he mistakenly poked you. As the fog clears, other parts of your body begins to hurt. There's a small burning feeling along your chest and arms and it hurts to breathe. You flex each limb in turn. Right arm, left arm, right leg, left- you gasp in pain. You can barely move your leg and trying sends a sharp pain shooting up your calf. 

The man finishes and stands.

"Okay. All patched up." He says. Looking over to Valeria. "She has some fractured ribs and her tibia and fibula in her left leg are also fractured. Though not by a lot. she won't be able to walk probably for five or six weeks."

Valeria sighs. "Okay."

The doctor leaves and you wish he wouldn't. You fucked up big time. Blew up the lab. The supplies. You don't have to look at Valeria to know - or feel - how pissed she is. The atmosphere in the room gets significantly heavier with the man's absence.

"What the fuck did you do?" Valeria growls. Storming up to your side. She has uncrossed her arms and her hands are clenched into tight fists at her side. Knuckles whitening like it's taking all her self-control to not hit you.

"I'm- I'm sorry." You stammer. "I was trying to find what-"

"You dumb bitch!" She cuts you off. Voice raised. "How stupid and irresponsible can you be? I thought you were supposed to be smart. Do you understand how much this is going to cost us? You completely destroyed the lab. The equipment is ruined the supplies are all contaminated. Nothing was salvaged. Nothing."

You close your eyes and avoid her gaze. Chest burning with shame. Or maybe it's one of your wounds that's burning. 

"You are so useless." She continues. Slicing you open with her barbed words. "I should kill you for this. I can't stand to look at you right now." Valeria storms out with her insults lingering behind. Despair floods your body at what you've done. You won't even be able to cook for a while. No lab, no supplies, you probably can't even stand on your own.

[unfriendlies]

completely caught off guard, garam let out a soft yelp when angel had picked him up to hold him in his arms instead of on his back. he was quick to wrap one arm behind the man's shoulders while the other hand held on tightly to the opposing shoulder to ensure he wouldn't fall even if angel lost his grip. his brows furrowed, just staring at angel. he was so strong. another thing garam couldn't recall his now ex-boyfriend doing; carrying him, regardless of position. it was always something his friends did. when asked, his ex would tell garam his legs still worked so he could walk himself wherever they were going. he was starting to really question what he ever saw in the other man, he was probably the least romantic partner garam had ever had. if he was going to be completely honest, angel was far more romantic towards garam than his ex was. that fact made his expression soften, a small smile growing. "i'm not that skinny," he said softly, pulling his hand up to the curve of angel's neck. his weight was never something he worried about before because he ate relatively healthily but he had noticed he lost weight recently which he could now blame on his relationship. after being dropped down onto angel's bed, he let go of the blanket and shifted so his head was on one of the pillows. when he was asked about his preferences, his expression fell once again. it wasn't because he didn't want to talk about it, he just wasn't expecting angel to want to know. he was quiet, not because he didn't want to talk about it but because he was silently questioning why angel wanted to know. was it because he was worried? that was the only reason that made sense. the only other thing he could think of was angel was asking because he wanted to have sex with garam but that didn't seem plausible at all. he was sure that angel would have made some sort of attempt to flirt with him, hit on him, something to let garam know he wanted something more from him. but angel didn't do that, at least garam didn't catch on if angel had made some sort of move. garam exhaled heavily as he threw his arms up over his head, unintentionally making his shirt rise, revealing his lower stomach and the bruises his ex left on him. "sometimes it's okay." he replied, staring up at the ceiling. "i really didn't like it at first but..." he paused, making an attempt to shrug his shoulders, but the gesture was a bit difficult to do with his hands above his head. "i got used to it." he added in, glancing over to angel with just his eyes but he was quick to return his gaze up to the ceiling. "there were some things that i liked but not when it happened all the time. i think i like it better when somebody is more gentle with me. like, they're afraid if they push too hard, i'll break." maybe break wasn't the most accurate term to use, it was more like he didn't want somebody who wanted to hurt him. "i think i want softer passion. not so fast, not so hard... but i still want to feel his emotions when we're together... if that—" his full attention turned to angel, "does that make sense? i want to feel like i'm the only person in his life that matters, i want to be able to see his love for me when i look at him... i want to feel like i'm more than just a piece of ass, you know? i think that's what i want." he couldn't even say for sure, it was just that soft and passionate were the complete opposite of what his ex showed him whenever they were intimate. their intimacy lacked all intimacy. the man focused on what would feel good for him instead of garam, he never felt love when they were together. it felt like it was purely physical between them. but maybe explaining as much as he had was a bit of an overshare. even if angel asked, garam didn't have to go into the kind of detail he did. "you don't have to worry, i'm not going to let somebody treat me like that again. and i'll make sure whoever i eventually get involves with has your stamp of approval, you seem to know who isn't good for me better than i do..."

Garam’s nod as confirmation was all Angel needed. He stood quietly as he watched his best friend grab his phone. The taller man watched the other’s facial expressions closely before realizing the alcohol was beginning to affect him. A shiver rippled through his spine seeing Garam’s ex crying face on the screen. His lips were pulled tight as his eyes shot down. Angel thought seeing the man crying would bring him joy. He was getting back just a fraction of what he put them through. But it only made his stomach turn. His skin felt itchy and gross. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “Let him suffer” he managed out glancing back up only to catch Garam texting his ex. Angel raised an eyebrow as Garam giggled which must have been contagious. The raven-haired man smiled offering a small giggle back. It was great to hear his friend laugh again. The screen was flashed to him once again. This time he didn’t look away. Scanning the text Angel let out a sharp breath. That text wouldn’t go over well but Angel couldn’t worry about that right then. “Take me to bed” Such a small sentence stopped Angel in his tracks. It wasn’t like the man hadn’t said it before. Angel had gotten used to carrying drunk Garam through the streets to either of their apartments. It was the way the man looked at him for a moment. His arms stretched out ready to be lifted. It took the man a minute to compose himself. Finding the whole scene rather adorable. “You are such a child” he teased to break the silence as he scooped his best friend up into his arms bridal style. “Easier to carry you this way…while you are staying here we are going to get some food in your system. You have never been this light” Angel commented as he guided them to his bedroom. As they made their way through his apartment he couldn’t help but think about Garam’s past relationships. They seemed to get worse with each one. Angel always kept his feelings silent. Watching each relationship pass by. It killed him his best friend hid so much of what was going on. Angel never judged him or so he didn’t think he did. But for sex to be that violent and their argument to lead to this. Angel couldn’t wrap his head around his best friend enjoying that. The grip he had on Garam tightened as they entered the bedroom. He was starting to feel the effects of their drinks but kept his composure. His focus was on making sure the man in his arms was okay. Angel stumbled lightly managing to get his best friend to the bed with a slight thump. He chuckled tucking his curls behind his ears as he sat on the edge of the bed. The question he wanted to ask hanging on the edge of his tongue. Even drunk he didn’t think this was the best time. But he knew he wouldn’t have the nerve to ask any other way. Besides the other was drunk as well. It made it easier somehow. “Garam?” Angel would never ask questions like this sober. He didn’t pry in such ways. He knew his best friend was private. The same way he was. “Do you really enjoy rough sex like that?” His words were slow, almost careful. To ensure he was saying the right thing. His eyes avoided his best friend. Angel looked down at his hands which he had been biting at out of habit as he waited for his answer. His feelings for Garam were festering inside him. In his drunken state, he was thinking he could never live up to that. He couldn’t see himself hurting Garam in any way. As he sat there the guilt of the question started to sink in. “Y-you don’t have to answer that. Sorry…these damn drinks” he muttered picking his head up and flashing one of his smiles.

[crepesuzette2023]

Hey! I'd love to hear your thoughts (and your readers' too!) or, if you'd like, your headcanon for what John and Paul's friendship/relationship/situationship might have looked like in the 80s if John hadn’t been murdered.

The more I listen to Paul's 70s discography, the more I feel just how much he seemed to miss John, and things didn’t seem to be getting easier as the decade came to a close. We know that songs like Now and Then and Real Love offer a glimpse into John's feelings, and there was clearly a sense of him missing Paul back.

So, do you have any headcanon about what could have been between them in that decade?

This is such a fascinating ask. Thank you.

I recently listened to McCartney II again, and also to Double Fantasy and Milk and Honey. And it struck me how alive and creative both of them were—and it made me think of their planned studio/writing date in January '81, which didn't happen.

What could their relationship have looked like, if John had lived? On the creative/musical level, I'm torn. Yes, they were Lennon and McCartney, and each of them was at a peak individually—surely they would have done great things together? But then I think of John describing the "Toot & A Snore" session, and how everyone was staring at him and Paul in the studio. Yes, they could have met in secret to write—but at some point, they would have had to share their new songs with the public. And I can totally imagine a situation where the public would have said, 'no thanks,' with only us, now, realizing how good their first album together actually was…(a la Ram)...and maybe they would have stopped after that...or wait: Paul would not have let them stop. :-)

In my mind, I'm fond of the idea of them collaborating and writing together, with space for each of them to do their own thing, provided they still enjoyed it and were happy with the results. It's impossible to say if that would have been the case. But in some weird way, I can't imagine them becoming friends (and more?) again without also enjoying writing together. Given the drama that played out via the press in the 70’s, neither of them cared about endless questions about the past, or the burden of being Lennon/McCartney. So perhaps...they would have written together under a pseudonym?! All their lives? Until this very day? Love that thought. (Didn't John have a tour planned with Double Fantasy? For some reason, I'm not really thinking about them forming a band again, or touring together in a systematic way.)

As for their friendship/relationship/situationship—God Only Knows what the fic writer in me would have wanted for them! :-)

All I can say is that I can't imagine a sustained, fruitful musical/songwriting collaboration without imagining them being genuinely close again. I'm not trying to avoid the 'lovers' question; I think what I said would be true regardless of the degree of canoodling: I don't think they would have written together again without being fond of, and enjoying, each other. The fact that they apparently planned studio time together before John died, suggests that the curiosity (hope?) was there.

I don't think they would have written masterpieces on the level of the Beatles, had they started writing again. But I'm only saying that because my imagination is more limited than their talent.

I think their relationship in the late 70's is difficult to gauge, and I tend to avoid that time period, because, knowing what will happen to John, it makes me sad. Musically they were in a good place in ‘79/’80. But maybe, if they had met and tried to write again, they would have concluded that they were worlds apart, and that would have been that.

But maybe they would have started to co-headline certain festivals? And always been *aware* of each other?!

And you know what— there was a kinkmeme prompt once, or was it a prompt for the Summer of Love fic-a-thon? Where John Lennon lives, and is going to bat for Paul and Broad Street when it's panned by the critics. I know Paul wouldn't have made GMRTBS with John alive, but he would have been panned for something, and guess who would have come out in his defense? Regardless of shared credits and secret or spouse-endorsed canoodling? Jooooohhhhhnnnnn.

That's the kind of scenario that makes me happy.

I hope this is giving you something. I would love to hear your thoughts, too, @therealsaintscully!

[mics-bootlicker]

Some random Erasermic drabble set after they get together in their early to mid 20s bcos I've been thinking about the whole Hizashi being Shōta's second choice thing

(Edit: also forgot to add, Hizashi being this honest about his feelings is rare lol)

M: If Shirakumo were still alive, would we have still...?

E: Don't think like that, it doesn't make sense. What happened happened, how would hypotheticals change anything?

M: I know it won't change anything, sheesh, but you loved him didn't you? Back then, me, I was just... a friend, and I knew that, hated that.

E: Yes, I think I did love him. But he didn't love me back, did you know that too? I don't think he even liked men. Regardless, we both saw how he looked at Kayama

M: I knew that. It's funny, you know? He would encourage me to confess to you. And I never did because I knew you liked him, but I couldn't even tell him that!! I got tight lips, hmmm?

E: Well, thanks for that, I guess. I can't believe he never knew, I was so obvious. People say I'm the closed up one, but in the end, everyone knew i liked him and only he knew you liked me, huh?

M: ...I was jealous of him until he died. How horrible is that?

E: Not horrible at all. Jealousy is illogical but... it happens. Just like accidents happen with Shirakumo's death.

M: God, why haven't we talked about it like this? Ever since then, we've barely had any open talks about it. Fuck, I miss him. I miss us.

E: Calm down. We'll be alright

M: You sure weren't acting like it for a while.

E: Well, we're back together now, and different than before. And what you said... about if Shirakumo would've survived... if we still would have... maybe, who knows? Shirakumo was never going to love me the way I wanted him to then. Maybe I would've moved on, then started noticing you more. Then maybe Shirakumo would've finally convinced you to make a move on me, and I would've said yes. Maybe you would've lost interest forever and fallen in love with somebody else. But nobody can say for certain, what's the point in speculating? Hizashi, I love you now. That's what matters

E: Shōta, I love you too