#most of these are ones ive posted before but got lost to time

[starstrucksfnuniverse]

I'm going back to my roots and making headcanons for the early Ch2 gang:

-Even taking away his scar, Midas still has terrible eyesight. He has glasses but only wears them if his head is hurting really badly and/or is by himself. So if he's walking around the Agency and someone tries to stop him, unless it's a life-or-death situation then he will pull out the "I'm afraid I didn't see you, sorry" and skedaddle

-This also applies to Jules but to a lesser extent

-Ocean's natural hair color is brown, though it's been dyed its usual pink for years. When it gets wet though, it somehow turns purple (I borrowed this one from a post I saw a long time ago) and then back to pink when it dries. Nobody knows how it works and she will never tell

-When she first transitioned, Skye had long hair that came down past her shoulders. After an accident on her first mission when it got stuck, she cut it to the length it is now. Tina cut her hair too to help the younger girl feel better

-Cameo is Turk's daughter, and Tina is her adopted sister. Midas' nicknames for them include 'nuisance,' 'disaster twins,' and 'why did I allow myself to hire you two?'

-The order of Team GHOST's heights from tallest to shortest goes Meowscles (6'5), Brutus (6'2), Midas (6'0), Maya (5'7), Tina (5'5), Skye (5'3)

-EGO is pretty evenly split between the tired parents and disaster children. As for ALTER, Toxin is the one tired parent in an entire organization of disaster children

[luck-of-the-drawings]

when i was in highschool one o my biggest coping mechanisms was drawing all the kids i hated getting killed and eaten and killed. and well. time is a slowly ascending spiral. you will find patterns.(i work as a blackjack dealer. gamblers are FASCINATING

[arolesbianism]

Some Brute doodles plus a bonus Button

[fxtalitygod]

X. ~Survival~

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, body horror, swearing/language, suggestive, pregnancy, mentions and acts of suicide, arguments, mentions of adult murder, Pet name (Little Flower 6-10x) implied Stockholm Syndrome, grief imagery, images/depictions of dead bodies, child death/murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint), dubcon/noncon (not any actual smut other than vague mentions of sex), implied postpartum, implied survivors guilt

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Today is a new day and after I got home from work and did some fine-tuning, I finally posted the FINAL CHAPTER (not including the epilogue) of Survival!!! I honestly find it funny that I had originally planned for this story to be a short series and it just spiraled into two years of writing! HAHAHAHAA!!!

JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX • Pt. X • Epilogue

Emptiness.

It was a feeling that you bitterly greeted after having abandoned it six years ago. It was disappointing, but welcome nonetheless. You wished it was under different circumstances. You did not know which circumstances but knew it was anything other than this.

After the destruction of your life, everything went back to the beginning. You were rehomed in a new village and a different temple, though you could not tell much of the difference. Those blank walls still drove you to insanity. The marriage ceremonies had resumed and more children began crawling the halls in a matter of months.

Sukuna had seemingly lost interest in you after the incident. You had finally snapped, extinguishing the anticipation for the hopes that you would one day. Despite his seeming lack of interest, you were still watched over with diligence, still resided in his chambers, and still acquired a caretaker.

Your mental forces were deteriorating, and it was clear from the blank expression that graced your face. You assumed that Sukuna acknowledged that and decided to have a sitter stay on top of you if you were to do something unexpected– much like what you had done to your village.

The curse user knew the extent of your rage, but he did not quite expect you to leave your home in ruins, to burn your family into nothing but ash. Little to your knowledge, a part of him admired you for that; however, the words that left your mouth after the act had been done brought him a discomfort that neither himself could explain.

From the way he was rutting in you currently, you could not tell. Another attempt of impregnating you. Years ago, you would have had a mind to beg him to stop, and when you could not accomplish that, feign pleasure. You used to want to please Sukuna not for his benefit but your own. Now all you cared about was embracing the feeling of that emptiness as you merely felt the man fucking you: soundless, motionless, thoughtless.

It took a matter of months before you were with child again; however, unlike before, this pregnancy was worse. In the physical aspect, you were overall healthy, but your mental health was far from good. You were a husk of the woman you once were, having lost all ambition for your future. Even when spontaneous thoughts of what life would be like outside the temple, you could not help but feel nauseous.

Guilt.

There were times you wished you could have blamed it on your pregnancy and escape the reality of the issue, but your mind would not allow it. You were repulsed with yourself and could not help but feel like you were betraying your twins by just the simple notion that you were alive, and to think of a future for yourself without them revolted you beyond compare. Your pregnancy did not make it any better.

Most women in the temple thought of pregnancy as a fresh start after losing their previous offspring; a new chance to impress their husband– a sickening point of view; however, you could not be upset with them. Deep down, you believed they had been just as afraid as you were upon their arrival when their village elders proclaimed them the next tribute to Sukuna. They more than likely had a plan to make it out of this hell and made promises to return to their families, but somewhere down the line, all the manipulation, physical strain, and mental stress, caused them to accept their fates and try to make the best out of it, losing themselves in the process.

You were not so lucky.

If pregnancy was a punishment before, it was a curse now. Knowing you were to have another child brought you great remorse. Anytime you were to look or even feel your bump, you could not help but think of the past... to think of your twins. It felt like you were betraying them, trying to unconsciously replace them even though your pregnancy was out of your control.

The way you would eat at yourself could have been considered torture.

Besides the normal work around the temple, you would spend most of your evenings in a dark and unoccupied room, keeping to yourself. No one dared to disrupt you, mostly out of fear due to the knowledge of your power. Few left you space out of respect, knowing the pain you were going through; however, sometimes you wished they would walk through that door, hoping they would attempt to comfort you.

It would have been a good distraction from your running mind.

Those dark and quiet rooms gave you time to think and reflect. You realized there were many things you had undermined and denied for your own sanity. The list could go on, some minor, some major…and the major miscalculations stuck out like a sore thumb.

Trimester One.

Despite your efforts, your village nor your family would have ever accepted your children– Sukuna's blood coursed through their veins, and that was enough to consider them a monstrosity. Your hopes of escaping with them and living a happy life were an illusion you conjured up to keep a drive in you.

Trimester Two.

Whether you liked it or not, your twins would not stay innocent forever. The twins were under Sukuna's guidance, no thanks to your pact, and they absolutely adored him. The twins blindly trusted him with their entire beings and would have believed anything Sukuna had taught them was for good, and you knew for a fact that is how your partner would have spun it. Their acts would have been malicious and cruel and they would not have even known...and despite your want to tell them the truth, the constraints of your pact would have stopped you from doing so.

Trimester Three.

Even if you had successfully run away with your son and daughter in hand, the life the three of you would have lived would have been far from peaceful. You and the children were proven valuable assets to Sukuna; to think that your husband would give you all up so easily was foolish. The curse-user would have hunted you down to the ends of the world until you were back in his grasp.

And as you sat there holding your new baby girl, tears streaming down your face as you listened to her whimpers, you hoped she'd grow up to be a fool; a strong, but foolish girl. If your daughter grew up to be a fool, the world could not hurt her as it had hurt you. If she becomes a fool, she would not have to feel the burden you were feeling.

You hated that you hoped for her, hated the fact that you loved and cared for her after laying eyes on her small figure. The whole scene was pitiful. The arms of a mother holding her child close to her bosom as if shielding them from the world– the effort could be appreciated but was futile because the looming threat was already hovering over you as he inspected his creation. If his presence was not unsettling enough, his hum of satisfaction horrified you, causing you more tears.

"I should have killed myself that morning. It would have saved me a lot of heartache..." you whispered, repeating the words you had mentioned over a year ago.

Months back into motherhood you found yourself questioning yourself and your emotional availability every time you looked at your daughter. You were doing all the right things, but performing the tasks felt heavy on your shoulders, and the smiles you painted on your face felt like they were caked on. None of it felt real. There was no doubt you cared for your little girl, but you had to admit that the task was tiring– caring was tiring.

You thought the feeling would end, believed it was temporary, but days turned into months, and months turned into a year.

You had just finished your daughter's first inspection and were now in your sleeping chambers with your husband. You both stood there silent and unmoving, staring at each other with hardly any indication of who was willing to speak first. Fortunately, your daughter was the first to break the silence, whining as she clung to you. You sighed as you understood the child needed attention, moving the baby into a better position to lightly bounce her, attempting to calm her down.

"You know, I thought you would be overjoyed to be blessed with another child, Y/n," Sukuna sounded as he studied you.

"Whatever do you mean? I am nothing but pleased," you blankly responded, focusing entirely on the little girl bouncing in your arms.

Silence once again.

You could feel his stare burning into you; feel his agitation radiating off his skin as he looked for a real answer. Sukuna was not an idiot, you were aware of that, but his meaningless probing was getting on your nerves. You would much rather he got to the point than play his mind games. If he was going to be indirect, you would only do the same.

"Do you think of them when you look at her?"

There was a halt in your movements, breath hitching as you did so. You slowly moved your head to look at the man before you, your gaze piercing. You had every intention to avoid the question, but your mouth betrayed your mind.

“What do you think?” You snipped, a grimace forming onto your features.

“I could make you forget, simply remove them from your memory to rid you of this…ailment.”

For what felt like the thousandth time of your life, you could feel your eyes widen, however, this was the most appalling statement your husband had made. Had he really suggested ridding your memories with your twins? Had he no remorse? Of course not, why would he? The children were a means to an end, nothing more than a few pawns in his plan. Any love and affection the father had shown his son and daughter were shown with calculation and precision– there was no meaning behind those affections.

"You sick bastard."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Y/n, I would advise that you watch your tone," a warning glare, "If I did not know any better, I would say that you were speaking out of turn when I am offering you such a gift– I do not offer such things lightly."

"Well it is good that you know better," the seething anger bubbling in your chest was choosing your words at this point, "How could you suggest such a thing?"

"I am doing you a mercy, Y/n, you are letting the past consume you from the inside out, and sooner or later you will become the image of your agony."

"You know nothing because if you did you would be in the same state as I am. You speak as if you know sympathy, but your words are honeyed to keep me in your grasp!"

Your breath was heavy as you confronted Sukuna, glaring daggers into his soul as you watched him step closer.

"Your perception can be quite bothersome at times, Little Flower; however, I believe it is what I admire most about you. I think it is why I chose you...why I love you."

Love.

Love.

Love.

"Love."

Your laughter was hysterical. The tears welling up in your eyes from pure disbelief and humor. Sukuna Ryomen himself has admitted to loving you for the second time. This time claiming he chose you because he loves you.

What a joke.

"Love me?" you choked between giggles, "Sukuna, you would not know love if it hit you in the face. Like I said before, your words are coated with the sweetest sugars to keep me around, to bring me hope, and quite frankly, the sweetness has become dull and bitter," a pause as you caught your breath, "You do not love me Sukuna. As I have stated, you love what I can provide you."

Silence had greeted you both for what seemed like the millionth time, but you could have been wrong, you lost count at this point.

"I understand the concept of love, more than you think, Little Flower; however, love has little meaning. So you are right, I do not love you, I value you. Is that not greater than love?"

You scoffed.

"You are going to die alone and I am glad that you will."

A soft chuckle sounded from your husband before feeling a strange feeling at the back of your head. You could feel the kanzashi pin moving in your hair as Sukuna played with the accessory.

"I highly doubt that."

Those four words had caused your heart to sink, bringing you more fear than you had ever experienced in your entire life. Without thought, you backed away from the man towering over you. You shook your head as you held eye contact with Sukuna, almost stumbling on your feet as you felt for the door and clumsily exited the room. You had your daughter close to your chest as you entered the hallway.

What little you had of your life came crashing down instantly as the gravity of your reality unfolded to its full extent.

You would never be free and although that was a realization you had made long ago...this time you had no hope to convince you otherwise.

So what did you do?

You ran.

You flew through the corridors to the gardens, arriving with heavy breath. Scanning the grounds you searched for the only individual who could help you right now. The moment your eyes registered the woman, you quickly approached, hardly paying attention to anything along your path as you made your way over.

"Y/n-"

"I have something for you!" you interrupted, holding out a pin you had stored and concealed for years, never knowing the right moment to give it to the woman before you.

The woman who had lost her sick and poor son on your very first inspection day.

You watched as her eyes welled up immediately, taking the pin and inspecting it as if to make sure it was real. When she was able to confirm the little trinket was indeed not a figment of her imagination, she held it close to her chest, letting her silent sobs escape before looking at you.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. But why are you giving this to me?"

You looked around hesitantly before pitifully looking at her, letting your walls crumble to reveal all your pain and suffering.

"I need your help."

"Uraume!"

"Yes, Sukuna-sama," the right hand responded.

"I would like you to gather the women and children from the inspection, I have an announcement."

"Yes, Sukuna-sama, I'll get right on it."

With that Uraume disappeared, leaving Sukuna in his quarters alone. The man paced in his chambers, reflecting on the prior conversation from earlier. The talk did not have the most satisfying ending, but much like the other unfortunate discussions that had been held between the two of you, this would be another problem that would resolve itself in due time.

The move would help move that process faster.

This village had quickly bored the tyrant, as they were quick to promise vengeance and destruction upon his empire. Same-old-same-old. So with that, it was time to move on to the next village after leaving this one behind in ashes.

"Sukuna-sama, the women and children do not appear to be in their chambers or the gardens, the workstations are abandoned too.

"What?"

Without a thought, Sukuna stormed out of the room and into the halls, those blank walls making the temple look more abandoned knowing that everyone had seemingly disappeared. He looked through every room he managed to pass, even using his abilities to sense the faintest amount of cursed energy. For a while, he came up with nothing, but after catching a familiar aura, he briskly started to follow the direction it was coming from.

The curse-user found himself in the main hall, where he saw his wives and children gathered. The husband would be lying if he claimed he was not confused with the situation, but he would not show that. Instead, Sukuna decided to try and decipher the scenario.

Upon first glance, it had seemed that the women and children were gathered for a usual gathering, but upon closer observation, something was off. The looks of the individuals in the room seemed to differ. Some women seemed relieved, others looked almost proud, and others...well, the last of the women looked as if they were being held there against their will.

As the monster-of-a-man continued to scan the room, he finally managed to find you, standing in the center of the room, your head held high; however, you looked exhausted, broken. It brought that familiar discomforting feeling to Sukuna, the same feeling when you had spoken those words after you had burned down your village.

"What is this, Little Flower?" Sukuna questioned with some amusement behind his voice, masking his indifference.

"Do not call me that," you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper as it softly echoed in the room.

"Y/n-sama ple-"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" you yelled, successfully silencing the crying woman who had shouted for you.

The atmosphere was tense, and he would tread carefully because Sukuna was no fool.

"What do you want, Little Flower? An apology? I can, obviously, give that to you, but we both know it would not solve much. So what is it you truly want?"

"To leave..." you weakly announced, watching as Sukuna gradually approached before stopping in his footsteps.

"Well then, Little Flower, you have gathered yourself and all your companions just in time, I was ready to announce our departure from this village. You get what you want, righ-"

"That's not what I want." you interrupted.

Sukuna was silent, his brow twitching in irritation as he stared at you, stopping mid-stride.

"Then what do you want?"

"I want the offer you gave me back on the table?" you quickly responded.

"And what offer would you be referring to, Little Flower?"

"On my very first inspection with my twins, you offered me to kill everyone in this room– I want to change my answer."

Your husband chuckled, "Do you not think the circumstances have changed a little, my dear? I gave you that option years ago, what makes you think that is something I am still willing to offer?"

"Because you love me..."

"Now you are willing to embrace that love?"

"Only if you do this one last thing for me. I will let you love me until my last mortal days, and me in return, just as long as everyone in this room dies."

A sly smirk, "As you wish, Little Flow-"

"By my hands!" you interjected.

Delight was an expression that Sukuna could not hold back at those words.

"It's a deal, Y/n."

"Perfect."

With those words sealing the pact, you took no further wait in your next actions. You ignored all the shouts and screams of those who wished to live, ridding yourself of whatever empathy you once had– you had to admit, it made things a lot easier when setting the room ablaze. Hearing their screams of agony and pain was a lot easier when you managed to wash out the humanity within you.

You could only feel relief after hearing all the shrieks and wails die out into nothing but silence. The room was filled with nothing but fire, bone, and ashes, the smell of burning flesh was prominent; however, that did not stop him from approaching you.

"I love you, Little Flower." Sukuna proclaimed, bringing his forehead to yours before softly kissing you.

He pulled away to look into your eyes, admiring them momentarily before smiling softly. Some may have mistaken it for a look of endearment, but it was a look of satisfaction. He had successfully taken your pride, dignity, and hope– he had taken all of you.

"I love you too."

And because you had no pride, dignity, or hope, left to hold on to...

It made it so much easier to bring that poison-coated dagger to your flesh and slit your belly.

For Sukuna everything went in slow motion, immediately swatting the dagger from your hand to the ground before cupping your wound, blood covering his hand in seconds. The desperate individual tried using his reverse curse technique to revert the damage, but it was pointless as you were resisting. For the first time in a long time, Sukuna felt genuine fear as he watched you slowly slip away from reality. And as everything started to play back to speed, Sukuna had a realization.

"Where is our daughter?!" The four-armed monstrosity yelled upon notice of your empty arms, continuing at attempts to stop your bleeding with little success.

Your smile made his heart drop.

"Gone." you sputtered, blood slipping from your cooling lips before going completely limp.

"...Gone where? Little Flower..."

"Little Flower!"

"LITTLE FLOWER, ANSWER ME!"

"Y/N!!!!!!!!"

You upheld your deal...you loved him for your last mortal days, it just so happened that day was seconds into a day, and as Sukuna sat there holding your motionless form, he could not have regretted anything more in his life. Making that deal was the best thing to happen in your life because in the end...

...You won the game of Survival.

And you hoped that your daughter could one day do the same.

Until the epilogue yall... (｀∀´)Ψ

Taglist:

@littlemochi @mistalli @youngbeansprout @bbylime @bangtan-forever1479 @idktbhloley @izayas-rings @o3o-aya @pyschopotatomeme @persephonehemingway @otomaniac @meforpr3sident @fourcefulcupid @nezuscribe @my-simp-land @zukuphilia @niya729 @spiritofstatic @bbittersw33t @kashasenpai @decaysan @honeybaegle @ygslvr @outrofenty @esposadomd @ali2426 @anmath @yazzzmints @lovingnahida @sincerest-one @rosemaydone321 @j0dios @k-ki3rd @maki-zenin1944 @shadowywizardarcade @ae-mius @xiangping-28 @loaves4me @aloraaaxcrystalzx

[vivvangel]

seven | park jongseong.

viv's note 💌: sorry annonniee, the post got deleted ffs. i hate dumblr.

synopsis: jay finds you, and your fidgeting when you're nervous, cute. what he also thinks is cute is how you're a virgin. › pairings & contents: badboy!jay x fem reader, suggestive + fluff. ✧ warnings: university au kinda, truth and dare, mentions of seven minutes of heaven, jay is sickeningly nice, no actual smut.

truth or dare.

what a classic, and to be frank, a fucking nightmare for you. all your mutual friends are asking the dirtiest, filthiest, freakiest, questions to each other whenever someone picked "truth", and going as far as telling someone to grind on another guy when they picked "dare" — and the most baffling part for you is that,, they did it.

there you were, sitting in the circle with everyone else, trying not to get to overwhelmed by everything happening, and one guy spins the bottle. "y/n, it's your turn! truth or dare?" fuck. you think to yourself. "uhh dare? but please don't say something weird" you say hesitantly, which is met with your classmates' laughter. "7 minutes in heaven with.... jay!" the guy says, which is met with an echo of "oohhhhhh"s from everyone. jay looked at you with a menacing smirk — "have you even had your first kiss?" a girl asks, to which you just quietly nod, making everyone go loud again. "jay, y/n, go to the closet, your seven minutes start when you're in there! go, go, go!"

how did this happen? you were in a compact, tight closet with none rather than the park jongseong. his body so close to you that you felt his breath on your neck. you were expecting him to smash his lips onto you as soon as you got into the closet, but to your surprise — "we don't have to do anything if you aren't comfy, just don't respond when they ask", jay says in a soft tone, looking at you with an expression you couldn't figure out. all you could mumble out was an "u-uh", trying to figure out what to say, jay took a step forward, pressing your bodies together, as his hand snaked around your waist. "unless you want to, princess? i don't mind".

"is it bad i want to kiss you?" -- "ofcourse not, baby". before you could even register him calling you baby, you swore you felt his lips brush against yours. "do I have permission, mhm?" he asks softly, and you nod, hesitantly. the second his lips are on yours though, all your hesitance washes away, his lips were so soft against yours.

when he pulled away, you were left wanting more. "can i take you back to mine, mhm?"

after the seven minutes were over, and your classmates ushered you to tell them what happened, and you said "nothing much" — jay actually did take you back to his dorm, which was something you couldn't even believe was happening. "fuck, princess" jay murmurs when you walk into his room, he closes the door behind you. "wanna know how long ive been fucking my fist thinking of you? how many times your innocent little face flashes to my mind when i'm about to cum? mhm?"

you were shocked, to say the least. "i-i, jay-" — he walks closer, "do you want this? we could just chill if not, no pressure". how was he so sweet while making your panties soaking wet? "fuck me jay, please" you breath out and he takes no time in undressing you, "have you done this before?" he asks softly, as he's on top of you, and you shyly shake your head. "gonna fucking ruin you princess, yeah? tell me if it's too much, mhm?" he murmurs.

you lost both your virginity, AND your heart that night. (jay completely stole it)

[puppywilliams]

just to ruin things.

summary: you and ellie’s cant run from your past forever.

warnings: toxic!ellie, mentions of drugs (cocaine), mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of relapsing, angst, implied bi reader

a/n: hi! ive been sooo very busy but heres a little smth i wrote! this might be boring but i need to post </3 also listened to memories by conan gray while writing this if you care

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some stupid party got you exactly where you always ended up. in ellies truck. it made you so fucking angry the way she always swooped in to save that day like she was some superhero, like she was doing you a favor. you couldn’t blame her too much, you always gave in like a lost dog finding its owner.

part of you Needed her to save you, the unfortunate truth you weren’t ready to unfold, its one you couldn’t face in fear of what it might do to the wall you’ve spent Too long already rebuilding, 7 months and 13 days of rebuilding to be exact. you tell yourself you’re not counting, its just an estimate. like this, its just friendly, this is what friends do. they drive you home. you’re not even that drunk, you knew you were getting into her car, you knew you were letting her right back into the place you needed to keep her out of the most.

her eyes were straight on the road with her knuckles around the steering wheel. you looked at her, freckles splatted across her face like god himself hand picked each one. “youre a fucking idiot you know that? all over that guy? you dont even know him. he couldve slipped something in your drink, youre gonna get yourself killed.” she spat venom through the atmosphere, turning everything sour like she managed to do every damn time.

“fuck you.” you spat back. it wasnt worth it, never was nor ever had been. but ellie argued either way.

“what? you still cant handle the truth?” she piled on, it was like a never ending mound of what you did that she didn’t like or approved of, it pushed your buttons in a way ellie knew it would. when you spend enough time together, the memories you’ve engraved into your head don’t expire. ellie knew you like she practiced your coding. every nook, every cranny, every corner, every place she knew and altered as she pleased. ruining you every time without so much as an apology. it angered you so much, for someone who swore she didnt care, it hurt.

you looked down and fiddled with the hem of your dress, hyper focusing in on one thing so you didnt burst like a can of shaken soda, youd been on the edge of your breaking point since you had broken up. so many words you didn’t say, so many words you wish you didn’t say.

“cant speak now? what? have too much to drink? bet you remember that guy you were all over. probably remember him more than you remember anything about me.” she pierced daggers right into your pressure points, only fueling the fire that endorsed your temper.

you took a breath before turning your head to look at her. “you dont have the right ellie. youre a fucking loser. you know that?” you looked right at her. the way you knew she despised when she couldn’t meet your gaze. “i dont Need you to save me, we’re long past that. what i do and who i do is none of your god damn business!” you threw your hands into the air finally letting yourself lose your calm facade, not missing a beat in fear she might cut in and ruin what you know you Need to say, for yourself and maybe its a plead. you dont think, only spoke.

“youre acting like when we were together you didnt drink your ass off every fucking night. sitting on My couch, watching My tv, crawling into My bed pissed out of your mind, you dont have any idea do you? none?” you breathed heavily with tears in your eyes looking Right at her before moving your gaze again to meet the hem of you dress. knowing the battle you say is with ellie, is actually with yourself. its one you always lose. “im so fucking m-mad at you still..i dont need this, or to see you at all…id listen to silence and see nothing but black just to know id never get confirmation you still existed..i cant stand you..” ellie stayed silent, the way she always did. white knuckles gripped over the steering wheel, her jaw clenched, but you see the gloss over her eyes. you see the way she breathes like shes making sure its the perfect rhythm.

you closed your eyes, the silence was so deafening you thought you got your wish, but she opened her mouth proving you wrong and teaching you once again to not get your hopes up.

“you want me to got care anymore? you fucking got it.” she put it simple, you should be grateful but you cant seem to be. its your weakness, and its one you’ll never strengthen, her weight always dragging you back down like a purgatory, but your shackles will never be lifted, so potentially its a sugarcoated way of calling it hell.

you turn to look out the window. “thank god.” you utter under your breath, a chunk of your soul hopes she doesn’t hear, of course she does. “dont ask me to pick you up at 11pm anymore. im not coming.”

she makes a good point, a great one even. one that not even you could manage to figure out if you tried.

“then stop picking up.” its all you say, its all you Needed to say. you glance at the way shes losing internal fight in the torn up seat of her truck.

“you know i cant do that..” she whispers as a single tear falls from her eye. she tries to wipe it away with the knuckle bound to her thumb before you see. “i know.”

“then why? why pull me in to push me away? why?! why do you do it?” you fall silent, its a conversation you hadn’t prepared for, but its a hole you dug so long ago it feels like centuries, but like every past, it catches up to you. its something so long overdue it churns your stomach like a knot in a rope you cant seem to unravel. “what am i meant to do ellie? come crawling back to your doorstep and repeat everything i spent so long trying to mend myself back together over? seeing your face is the worst kind of relapse. its a reminder of what i worked for, to self sooth for months and act like kissing someone else doesn’t still feel like cheating. i do what i Have to do ellie, i cant plead with you, not when youre not mine and im not yours, because just like you. i have no fucking right..” your voice shook with emotions you didn’t know you we’re still capable of feeling.

ellie doesn’t try to hide her tears anymore, its pointless. its something rare, something you so selfishly cherish. its like feeding a sweet tooth that cant be settled unless you have empathy, you crave it every day knowing you never got it. you tell yourself shes crying for You and not yourself, its the fix of what will get you through this conversation, through tonight, and through next week.

“you think thats what i want?” she dryly chuckles before scoffing, using her pointer and thumb to wipe at her tear ducts. you fucking hate it. “you think thats what i want? i want you to be happy believe it or not, even if its not me. but god damn, it kills me seeing you with someone else and you dont even Care.”

you take her words as something thats malicious, but deep down somewhere in your heart you know its just the truth, maybe you’re not ready for this, you might never be. “you made that decision a long time ago. its out of my control now.”

her face hardened and her eyes stayed put on the road ahead. “you gave up on me. you put everyone else and everything else before me, was i supposed to stay?” she breathes out through her nostrils. you looked at her like she had said something outrageous, like it was a life altering claim.

“thats what you think huh?” you scoffed rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest looking back out the window.

she raised her voice, her temper always did run thin. something you didn’t miss. “yeah, it is!” she bit the inside of her cheek and took a deep inhale.

“no ellie. i tried, and thats what you never give me credit for. i tried to help you get sober, i payed for your rehab bill so you could come back home to me, but the first thing you did when you got home was snort a line before you even looked my way. we’re not dogs, i cant lick your wounds and tell you they’ll heal, i had myself to worry for. you put drugs above me, so i stopped trying. i stopped begging you.” she fell silent for what you hoped would be the last time tonight, you watched the way she went to speak but shut herself up.

her voice still appeared a few seconds later. “i know i was an addict, i know i fucked up but you gave up on me regardless.” you looked at the tense expression she had as she drove, not even sure if she was driving in the right direction anymore. as much as you

wanted this to all be over you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“you gave up on yourself. i didn’t even get a sorry.” you said dryly, looking back at your feet. everything seemed to consume you. “well im saying sorry now. and for the record i still love you.”

you wanted to recoil, to scream at her and tell her to fuck off, but you softened. you wiped your eyes, sniffling. “i still love you too, it drives me crazy.”

it was the truth, one you ran from. something you denied to your friends and family, knowing if you said anything remotely to the truth you’d see the way their face morph into an disapproving expression.

“i know ill never have you again, but for what its worth i’m thankful you were mine.” its something ellie never intended to say out loud but she used every resource she could.

you gave in to something she wasn’t even asking for, just something you needed to ruin you.

“for what its worth if you asked me to be yours again i don’t think i could say no.”

“then dont say no.”

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

I loved Worship but it got me thinking about like what if someone kept calling her mean stuff during the show and just boys reacting to their girl getting slandered tnx

Guess who got carried away? 😂 I love it guys, thank you for popping into my ask. I really love seeing your ideas!🤍✨

Sleep token x reader

For the record

It’s the usual shenanigans that get the show going. Considering that everyone was in a good mood tonight was already labeled to be a solid night. It always felt the best like this. When everyone was fully relaxed and enjoying themselves. You had lingered back with IV before the show, too lost in bickering until it was him messily making sure that your headset was on before someone thrust his guitar into his hands. A little wink. A little nudge. And it was back to the place you had grown to love. Crave deep within your soul.

It’s behind II that you sing some of your most beautiful solos. Finding your way up on his seat while his hands go up and down your thighs. Mostly trying to make sure that you don’t fall back but enough to seem that he’s more than happy to sit between your thighs while you stand above him. It’s the fleeting kisses that you keep sharing with IV tonight. One after another, every time you pass by. Till it’s almost funny when he’s right in front of you. Pretending as if it’s an unexpected bump in. It’s Vessel that you fall to your knees to and he’s more than happy to brush his thumb over your bottom lip, leaning in only to push your face to the side. Making you fake fallback as you lay your limp there for a couple of beats. Enjoying the roar of the crowd. III manages to trap you in between his guitar and you as you both swing to the beat. Your fingers trailing up and down his thighs.

But it was the odd eyes that you kept on landing on. First row. Right in front of you. Ones that made you sick to your stomach. Ones that you tried to avoid. But you kept on coming and coming back. And it’s when you come towards the edge of the stage to sing yet another part of your siren song that you hear it. “Cheep Whore”, “Band filth”, “Shared bitch”. Rolling in and in. With more and more people turning their heads towards the people screaming at the tops of their lungs.

And it’s as if the words had scorched you. You find yourself backing away. Till you hit something solid and warm. A hand coming to steady you. But you pull back just as fast. Turnning to find a pissed-looking Vess. “Keep going”, your mouth, letting yourself trail your gaze over the rest of the band. Only to find another three pissed faces. You grab Vessel’s hand, pulling him closer, “Do the rest of the show the way it was supposed to be”, you begged, “Leave it and keep going. They will follow”.

A wave of relief washes over you as he steps away. Continuing the next song. III blazing eyes are the next thing you see but you just shake your head at him. Even if the poor pick gets thrown across the stage and not in a nice way. But they stick through. Faces tight. The atmosphere off. The magic faded. The feeling was lost. You stick to the furthest part of the sage, doing your parts as if glued to it. The moment the last sounds of the cords fade, you’re turning onto your heel, diving backstage.

You feel stupid almost, that something that was going on in comments and posts for some time now had finally made you slip up. Cause you didn’t care. Not really…. right? “Y/N”, a bang sounded at the door making you flinch, “You in here?”. A part of you wants to keep quiet. Let this fade into the back too. But you hear the commotion, not enough to understand what the bickering is about, before a much louder banging ring through the quiet space. “Open the door”, IV's voice is much more strict than II’s. The agitation oozed out. “I am taking my makeup off”, your voice cracks, and your silent scream into the void within because you know that they would have heard it. “You take it off in the bus while we drink, don’t start bullshiting me now”, IV rattles the hand and you suddenly start to wonder how long it would take for him to break the door.

“Look”, II cuts in, “I get it, you want to be by yourself but we kind of got a situation going on with III”, and it’s enough to make you step closer to the door. Because you care about them and if III is flying off the handle it would be your fault. “What happened?”, you mutter, pressing your face against the door. You’re met with silence but it’s enough for you to know that they are looking at one another now, silently debating their next words.

“Jumped off stage and took off towards the pit”, and that’s enough for you to yank the door open. You just don’t get to go as far as two pairs of hands pulling you back. “Come here”, you hear IV mutter before you were met with II's embraces. The warmth of him cutting deep through you. Making your eyes sting. Yet you pushed back, trying to escape them both. “Let me go, let me talk to him”, you wheezed. “It’s taken care of”, IV cut in, “He’s backstage somewhere, you don’t need to worry”.

You looked up at them, “You tricked me, idiots”. IV reached to catch your face, “You ran off, locked yourself in a fucking bathroom. What do you expect that we baked you cookies?”. “IV”, II hissed, “What he was trying to say is that we care for you and that shit on the stage shouldn’t have happened”. You fist II shirts, trying to keep your composure, “I don’t care and don’t understand why you’re making a big deal out of it”, you sighed in frustration. You needed out, or you would cry and you hadn’t yet done that in front of the boys.

“This is a mutual choice”, Vessel’s voice fills the space, “If we mess around, we mess around together. One of us having to take shit for it is bullshit”. And that’s when you see him. Rubbing his left hand’s chuckles. Your whole body drains from your body. “You punched him didn’t you?”, you mutter, already thinking of all the articles. And what for? After all the years of staying out of bad PR. Your legs move on their own accord and with a couple of steps you are wrapped up in III’s arms. “For the record, I missed”, he grunts. And that’s the thing that snaps the last bit. A strange strangled noise leaves your lips before you can clap a hand over your mouth. The look in III eyes shifts, “I would go back there, just saying”, he mutters before pulling you back into him by the back of your head.

“I need Chinese tonight”, II throws it out in the open. Making the salty stream of tears down your cheeks feel less pathetic in a way, as everyone snorts in their toes. “I call dibs for the bus bed tonight”, Vess points out and it’s as if nothing had happened. The same dynamic between you five talking is usually formed. “You’ve slept there for the last two stops”, III is quick to remind him, yet his eyes are still on you. Quietly assessing the real damage. “And before you say it, you aren’t special because you’re long and skinny”, Vess simply flips III off before the room is once again filled with laughter. You feel soft hands brushing against your chin before your head is gently nudged upwards. Meeting IV eyes within a blink. “Head up, little siren”, he muses, brushing the tears off your cheeks, “Can’t have you loosing your spark”. You nod tightly, trying to not let another wave of emotions cloud your eyes. “For the record, I would eat you out”, III shrugs, making the rest of them chorus his name with curses following right after.

[omensandwonders]

filthy thoughts about the eepy boys

im in a whole other universe of down horrendous after FINALLY seeing the boys live (well, II and Ves (im crying)) so... this is my outlet. youre welcome and/ or im sorry

warnings: pure filth

vessel:

♤ a munch and a yapper, idc

♤ only time this man shuts up is when his head's buried between your legs and even that's loud, with the way he's groaning into your cunt

♤ eats like he will never see another woman again after this, hands grabbing everywhere he can reach - thighs, ass, stomach, waist.

♤ often uses both tongue and fingers, either fucking his fingers into you while sucking your clit or rubbing tight circles on your clit with his thumb while he's tongue fucking you

♤ mans is hung (we all know it) so he will absolutely make you cum at least three times with his fingers and tongue before giving you his dick

♤ when he does, he's so vocal, groans and whines leaving his throat completely unrestrained

♤ forgets how strong he is, often leaving your thighs, hips and waist bruised

♤ STAMINA.

♤ youre not done until hes done

♤ filthy mouth on that one i tell you

♤ now i also see vessel being more dominant and calculating, but... more on that later if yall want that (👀?)

♤ all im sayin... i think hes the most dominant of all of them... his hand + your throat =mmdjxjisjs (also *cough* spit kink *cough*)

"o-oh my god, darlin', squeezin' me so good- j-just like that, such a good girl for me, takin' it so well-"

"so tight, feels soo good my love, j-just one more for me-"

II:

♤ suddenly my ass is a drum

♤ would it be too on the nose to say he's an ass man who loveeees spanking? actually this is my post so IDC IM SAYIN IT

♤ ass man who loves spanking

♤ impact play in general i dare say

♤ mean slaps whenever you least expect them, wherever you least expect them - face, pussy, ass - he loves your reaction

♤ but can you blame him? you look so pretty looking up at him with those hazy, tear-filled eyes

♤ now vessel gets mean and rough just cause he's desperate. II gets mean and rough because he wants to wreck you. very different motivations there (though im a firm believer that ves has his mean streaks too)

♤ you've been misbehaving? have fun riding him with your hands tied and his hand around your throat. doesnt matter how bad your thighs hurt, he's not helping. also, youre not cumming

♤ loves fucking you face down ass up, with a hand on the back of your head or back of your neck to keep you pinned down

♤ edging ‼️ overstim ‼️ pain ‼️ degradation ‼️ thank you for coming to my ted talk

"you've been nothing but a slut all fuckin' day, throwin' yourself at Ive like that, and you think i'll let you cum? nah, fuck that. you got about another half an hour in you before that, if at all"

"such a pretty lil' bitch for me, crying on my dick like that. you like it when i hurt you? like it when i slap this fuckin pussy?"

"so dramatic, that was only your fourth orgasm. you got at least three more in you"

III:

♤ say it with me now, MESSY

♤ i think III is similar to ves' desperate side, but... more

♤ more desperate, more subby, more whiny, more drooly

♤ will beg. god knows for what but sure it's hot so why the hell would you stop him

♤ sometimes he gets so lost in it his thrusts get uncoordinated

♤ so sloppy, rutting into you like a dog in heat

♤ i could imagine a threesome between you, III and ves... where ves is the one in charge

♤ sitting on a chair next to the bed, running his mouth while III basically sobs while pumping into you

♤ god, he cums so much

♤ absolute loads

♤ idk if this is a hot take or not but possibly the subbiest of the boys?? though i still dont see him as a FULL on sub, maybe a switch? idek i feel like he could go either way

"oooh my fuckin' god doll, so good to me, so fuckin' good- feels so good- 'm gonna cum, cum inside that sweet pussy-"

"love you so much just- just lemme please- just the tip baby-"

"if you don't suck my dick right now i'm gonna lose my mind-"

IV:

♤ also one i see as being dominant

♤ such. a fucking. tease. lord help us all.

♤ learns how to play your body like a fuckin instrument within days, gets you sobbing and pleading within minutes

♤ after what feels like hours of teasing you - toying with and biting your nipples, leaving hickeys all over, touching everywhere but where you need him most - he finally gives in and fingers you and you swear to god you see stars

♤ we all know this man can use his fingers, the way he plays guitar. to him, your body is the most beautiful instrument and he'll be fuckin damned if he can't master it

♤ when he fucks you, he's so rough, all filthy words in your ear as his thick dick drags against your walls

♤ sigh, a biter

♤ leaves bite marks all over you

♤ not satisfied until youre sobbing and trembling beneath him, globs of his cum leaking out of your abused cunt (wrap it before you tap it)

♤ god help you when he discovers remote controlled vibrators

"so drunk on my dick, aren't ya love? that's okay. i'm takin' care or you, don't need to think anymore, just keep those legs nice and open for me"

"can't remember your own name, can ya, love? that's okay, only gotta know mine"

"good fuckin' girl, always so wet and ready for me..."

did i mention that i think they all share a HEAVY breeding kink? no? oops

[lyfeofbilly]

Paralyzed

warnings: angst, fluff (slightly suggestive)

summary: the tension between you and riri finally dissipates after weeks of it.

author's note: hey yall! this was something short and sweet that i really wanted to write. its been a minute since ive posted anything, and i didnt wanna leave yall hanging. can you tell i get all my inspo from music? lmao, enjoy!

taglist: @koffeesfancy @bubbleblowinggirl @pvnks0ul @solanaszn @onyxstones-world @blacksapphhicmaddonna

The car ride home was completely silent, an uncomfortable one to say the least. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife, leaving you to question how to potentially break the silence between you two. Three weeks had passed since you and Riri had the disagreement that started it all. That damned job. Every argument you two had stemmed from it. If Riri wasn't coming home hours late, she stood you up on plans you two had made days, if not weeks, prior. The house was at a standstill. Your home that was once filled with comfort and intimacy, was now quiet and cold. The bed you two shared went half empty most nights, the other side barren without your wife.

Your heels clacked against the shiny hardwood floors as you entered through the front door. Sitting through an exquisite dinner that her job hosted, playing the picture perfect couple everyone had made you out to be took a toll on you. The only thing that got you through the facade was the stinging of the multiple drinks as you downed them. Deep down you were tired of fighting about the same thing, leaving you feeling empty and lost. All you wanted was your wife back.

You plopped on the large green sectional in the living room, a sigh left your lips as you peeled the stilettos off of your aching feet, slowly starting to massage the arches of them. Riri on the other hand had made her way up the stairs to your bedroom, clearly tired and not in the mood to argue. On days where you two weren't fighting she would cling to your side, covering every exposed piece of skin in light kisses. Nostalgia clouded your judgement, causing you to follow far behind her. The stairs creaked as you walked up each step, the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter the closer to the bedroom you got.

You stopped at the doorway, taking time to admire the shorter woman. Her neatly braided cornrows pulled into a bun at the back of her head, and the array of jewelry that adorned her ears. Although her back was turned she could feel your presence, or the aroma of the perfume you wore daily that filled her nose. She turned to face you, loosening her tie off her neck.

"Yea?" she asked gently, taking off her blazer and throwing it on the bed.

One thing you admired about Riri was her ability to stay graceful and gentle with you in the midst of turmoil in your relationship. It was an ability you were grateful that she had, even if you didn't deserve it at times.

"Can we talk?" You breathed out. Those were the three words that threatened to spill from the tip of your tongue for weeks. The phrase that could have laid this to rest from the start. You walked further into the room, desperately wanting to close the gap between you two.

Riri sighed, more so of relief. This rough patch in your relationship was playing a huge toll on her too. From not getting enough sleep due to the lack of your presence next to her, to being constantly distracted at work. As much as she wanted to make up and smooth everything over, the words that would make that happen would never come out.

"I know we've been in this weird space," You came a step closer, your body aching to feel her warmth. "But I'm tired of it. I need you to talk to-"

Before you could finish your sentence she pulled you in, your back to her front. A wave of relief washed over you, your shoulders you had no idea were up to your ears slouched. Being in her arms eased the pull that you've felt on your heart for so long. Her breath was hot on your skin as she sunk her head in the crook of your neck.

"You got no idea how much I needed to hear that." She hummed into you. Her cologne filled your nose and her hands made your skin grow hot as she let them roam on your body. "I missed being next to you, feeling you-" Hot, soft kisses were placed on your neck and shoulders as she slid the thin straps of your dress off you.

"Ri-"

Her fingers found the zipper of the cocktail dress you were wearing and slowly undid it, letting it drop to the floor and leaving you bare. "Shh, let me show you how much I missed you ma."

[tiddygame]

i’ve stared at this for so long that i now hate it and think ive lost all concept of how to write so take this and get it out of my google docs

the introduction is rough and the medical depictions (and accuracy/realism) could use some (a lot of) work but whatever! here it is, my vague yet still oddly specific idea of how the face reveal would go in @myriadblvck ’s streamer au:

tw: description of a panic attack? i think?

[this takes place post first irl meet but before they’re officially together]

imagine ghost has a glasgow smile but on one side they carved a little too deep and left some nerve damage. time and surgery helped, after which he could eat unimpeded and talk without a lisp, but there's still some facial nerve damage and/or skin contractures from scarring, specifically around the corner of his mouth.

now, everytime he smiles, be it shit eating grin or a full genuine joy filled smile that not even grumpy mcgrumperson could hold off, it always looks wrong because one corner doesn't raise fully like the other.

everything else is fine, there isn’t any facial paralysis, he just smiles… wrong. especially since only one eye properly squints when he smiles, giving him the look of someone who got stuck mid wink.

if he wants to look “normal” (or as normal as he could get it) he has to manually squint his other eye. still, it always felt weird; you don't realize how much those muscles affect the rest of your face until they're gone.

it's why he learned to always wear the mask.

when his expression is neutral, you don’t really notice it. if you can see his mouth when he talks however, it’s obvious that there’s something wrong. he wouldn’t say he’s necessarily ashamed of the scars and damage itself, but it’s the stares that are the worst. before he started hiding behind it, people would openly gawk or even glare at him as if he was some ne’er-do-well gang member that got what was coming to him.

he still remembers the cosmetic surgeon that had been talking to him about fixing the contractures— the whole appointment was a fucking nightmare. the cuts had healed nicely enough especially considering how bad it could have been; he was lucky to only need a little cosmetic help. the only reason he was there was so he could fucking eat food without struggling to open his mouth.

the doctor spent god knows how long breaking down everything wrong with his face like he was a fucking car mechanic lying about how dirty your filter is. the guy constantly mentioned that while he was under, they could also fix his jawline, do a rhinoplasty, trying to break him down to agree to more work.

he was already fuming my the time the doc brought up how kids would react. asking ghost if he wanted to scare children since “you cant expect the little youngins that are still learning about the world to not get scared by something scary,” and that “even some adults would cringe at the scarring.”

what stuck out most was the condescending smile he had when he said it. as if he was pointing out the obvious and ghost was being stupid and shortsighted by not agreeing.

he declined everything except what was medically necessary. the procedure went fine and after an aggravatingly long recovery period, he could eat solid foods again without issue. but the comments still stuck with him.

…okay, maybe he’s a little ashamed.

scaring kids with your face doesn’t feel good and being reminded of everything you’ve lost when you try to smile can really fuck you up in a way words fail to describe.

so yeah, he hates it. he’s gotten used to the mask, both skull clad balaclava and simple medical mask, being a permanent layer of armor. even now that he’s a bit more comfortable in his own skin it still feels wrong to pull it off.

when he gets close to soap, it still feels like a layer of vulnerability that he’ll never be prepared for.

the first time he let soap see his face, there hadn’t been any grandiose build up, no extravagant planning.

simon had arrived just a few hours earlier. he hated commercial flights with a burning passion but it was always worth it to see johnny.

with soaps twin out of town for the week, he had decided to take leave to spend time with his friend, a friend that he most certainly did NOT have a crush on (a disclaimer roach and gaz heard everytime they started snickering over ghost taking leave.)

johnny had cooked something nice and simple for dinner, saying that simon had spent too long with MREs and deserved real food (ghost only agreed if he was the one washing the dishes, soap had laughed and told him he's not so kind as to let him off the hook for chores).

when they ate, it was always in the living room with johnny taking care to always stay angled away from simon, never trying to catch a glimpse, regardless of how much he wanted to see what was under the mask. the obvious gesture of kindness and respect for his boundaries always left him feeling all weird and fuzzy inside. but, then again, johnny seemed pretty good at triggering that feeling in general.

their finished plates were on the coffee table and johnny was watching whatever dumb movie he had put on. he was pretty sure the man spent more time talking over it and making fun of everything than he did actually watching it (it was simon’s favorite way to watch a movie.)

ghost however, was watching soap. thinking.

in the end, it was an impulsive decision made after a strong three seconds of consideration.

“you uhm— you can look by the way,” ghost stared at the can of soda in his hands, immediately regretting the words.

“what?” soap didn’t fully turn, just shifted slightly to hear him better. a simple gesture to show he was listening without turning to face him. it normally made simon happy to see that johnny was more than willing to accommodate for his boundaries. now though it made him feel stupid for robbing johnny of a normal face to face conversation, a normal human interaction, just over his idiotic insecurities.

“my face, you—,” he felt his heart block his airway and tried clearing his throat before continuing, “you can look if you want,” christ he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. why was he getting so fucked up over this?

“are you sure?” he hadn’t turned yet, but ghost could see his pensive expression from here. this should be nothing. realistically, he knew johnny seeing his scars wouldn’t suddenly make him hate him… right?

“yes.”

but it was more than the fear of hatred, wasn’t it? he was scared that johnny would see him. see more than just the scars, see all of the ugly idiosyncrasies and insecurities laid bare. afraid that johnny would see the truth of how unlovable he was.

jesus he was getting so fucking worked up and dramatic over nothing.

ghost didn’t look up. he made an effort to not focus on his peripheral vision. he heard soap turn, heard the intake of breath. the silence was loud only for a second. then, deafening white noise surrounded him, inescapable, suffocating.

fuck.

he didn’t regret giving permission but god did he regret everything else; the stupid scars, the stupid nerve damage, the stupid way he had managed to fall for someone so fucking good like johnny while he was unequivocally unworthy of his love.

stop being so fucking dramatic. you are not together, never have been and never will be. reality was blatant in front of him but it didn’t stop his heart from foolishly hoping.

he heard soap stand and walk closer. saw from where he was still staring a hole in the can his feet step in front of his. saw johnny’s hands raise. he took a deep breath in, closed his eyes, and with a great deal of effort didn’t flinch when soaps fingers grazed his cheek.

both of his hands came up to cup his face, holding him and ever so slightly tilting his face up, giving him the chance to pull away. he didn’t. he may be a coward but he wasn’t backing down.

ghost eventually opened his eyes to see soap staring at him with wide eyes. he looked away, staring off to some point on the right. he hated not knowing what soap was thinking.

they stayed there for a while before soap broke the silence, muttering, “i fuckin knew you had freckles.”

it was stupid but it shocked a laugh out of ghost. he meant to drop his head, embarrassed that something so dumb made him laugh, but accidentally just pushed himself further into soaps hands making him blush.

he looked up and saw soap staring even harder than before. the chuckle died in his chest.

“do that again.”

ghost just gave him a confused look.

“smile.”

such a simple request, a one word sentence, but it set his face ablaze. his breath caught in his throat, somewhere around where his heart was still trying to choke him.

…he hadn’t thought it was that bad but soaps reaction indicated otherwise. fuck. was his it that awful? he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. this was stupid. he was stupid.

“simon,” of course, one word from johnny and it felt like he could breathe again.

“please?”

fucking goddamn soap and his stupid fucking puppy dog eyes and the way he has ghost wrapped around his fucking finger without even realizing.

ghost smiled. there was no real mirth, more a grimace than anything else. he just wanted to get this over with.

soap was still staring at him, his thumbs tracing his lips, following scars, drawing imaginary lines between freckles… if he wasn't so terrified it might have felt nice.

“Christ,” ghosts heart cracked more, “you weren't lying when you said you were beautiful.”

ghost huffed a laugh and went back to staring off to the right, the fake smile dropping. of course soap would try to lighten the mood with a joke.

his panic fled as quickly as it had consumed him, now just left sitting in soap's living room, face still cradled in caring hands, resigned to his mistakes.

he felt so tired and johnny's hands felt so inviting.

“i wasn't joking,” soap looked…upset? angry? wait— fuck, what’d he do?

ghost stared back at soap, confused and tired. soaps nails felt the grooves of the scar, catching where the skin was raised and lowered.

“you don't have to lie, soap. im a grown man. I'm not fragile. you don't need to coddle me,” ghost said it like it was a joke, hoping soap would laugh along and that this would all just blow over. that tomorrow morning they could forget this ever happened.

“are you calling me a liar?” soap’s brow furrowed. great. instead, he had managed to make everything worse and piss off soap as well.

ghost took in a deep breath, giving himself another shot at calming things down, “no, I'm not. I think you're lying, but you're not a liar,” he stood and stepped to the side, grabbing their dirty plates and walking them to the kitchen sink, “you just don't want to upset me, it's fine. I get it. you're a nice person but you don't have to lie to spare my feelings.”

“I am not fucking lying!” as per usual, all ghost had managed to do was make things worse. there’s a reason he had decided to stick to the battlefield and give up on domesticity.

“well alright then. agree to disagree,” he turned the kitchen tap and started rinsing the dishes, waiting for the water to heat up. just walk away. end it there. let us forget about this stupid blunder and move on. please just leave it. please, please, please—

“no.”

the force behind it damn near made ghost drop the plate he was holding. he managed to set it in the sink carefully and turned to face soap, who was now in the kitchen as well.

“i— I'm not just gonna fucking— simon,” soap took in a deeper breath and went to continue but ghost was faster.

“johnny,” he interrupted, walking forward with his hands up in a gesture of surrender, approaching slowly.

one last chance to not fuck everything up.

“the fact is they're called deformities for a reason. they're not cute. they're not pretty. they're your body’s way of healing what it can and protecting what it can't. it's not meant to look nice, it's just—”

“bullshit they’re not pretty! says fucking who?” the genuine distress in soap’s voice and force behind his words caught him off guard. “simon—”

he huffed and ran his fingers through his hair roughly, pulling slightly at the strands. christ, ghost needs to shut the fuck up. every single time he speaks he just upsets soap more and more.

he needs to retake his hostage negotiations courses. clearly he has forgotten everything about how to diffuse a situation.

johnny takes another second to breathe and collect his thoughts before he speaks.

“simon. I know that— that ‘this’ isn't something that's going to fix itself overnight and I don't expect it to. but, ‘the fact is,’ I think you're pretty.”

ghost opens his mouth to disagree but johnny doesn’t let him.

“no no,” johnny put his hand over simon’s mouth, shocking him into silence. he blinks twice, stupefied.

“i think— no. I know you're pretty. cute even. beautiful is a given but obviously worth mentioning.”

his hand moved to cup simon’s cheek. ghost grabbed his wrist but didn’t stop him, wether it was a warning or encouragement he himself didn’t know.

johnny continued, unperturbed, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right?”

there was a pause and simon realized he wanted an answer.

“johnny-”

“ah ah!” his hand moved back to cover his mouth, grabbing his face and shaking his head back and forth, over accentuating his words, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right? yes or no.”

he stopped shaking him and moved his hand back to simon’s cheek. simon sighed, defeated, “yes. you are right.”

johnny looked smug, “good. and what do you say when i give you a compliment you don’t agree with?”

simon sputtered, “wha— i don't fucking know—”

“nothing! you don’t say anything!” soap looked way too proud of himself and he continued, “or thank you if you feel so inclined.”

“that was a trick question,” simon replied eventually.

johnny thumbed over his scars once more, again tracing them, “sure it was. now go take a shower.”

he patted his cheek twice and walked to the hallway.

“wait,” johnny probably shook the few remaining brain cells out of his head. “this whole conversation ends with you telling me that I stink?”

“yes. rancid,” johnny opened the door to the linen closet. simon was still in the kitchen. the tap was still running.

“no dipshit, do you not remember telling me that commercial planes makes you feel gross?” johnny threw a towel at him, which he caught just in time for johnny to hit him with a bath rag.

ghost had mentioned that… ages ago, he thinks. on facetime with each other, discussing the merits of bathrooms on public transport. he had said that enclosed, crowded spaces like commercial planes or buses made him feel, well, gross. how—or why—did he remember that?

“but… I’m supposed to wash the dishes?” a weak argument against the stubbornness he was faced with but simon had officially lost track of his mind and this conversation.

johnny shot him a weird look as he walked back towards the kitchen sink. simon still hadn’t moved.

“did you think i was being serious earlier?”

“yes???” he felt like he had been given a lobotomy.

johnny decided to take pity on him and explained in a soft voice that felt out of place, “i was being sarcastic. i’m not going to make you wash the dishes, simon.”

“but that was the agreement: you cook and i wash the dishes.”

johnny laughed as if he remembered something funny, “yeah, i lied.”

simon still stood there, trying to figure out if he had a stroke. johnny had been angry, completely pissed at him, but now was letting him off the hook and calling him pretty? what the fuck is happening?

johnny turned him and pushed him towards the hallway. simon could have resisted but his resolve always seems to crumble around johnny mactavish.

“now go shower, you beautiful bastard,” soap grabbed one of the plates out of the sink and started washing it with water that had probably heated ages ago.

ghost walked towards the bathroom, feeling like he was on autopilot, limbs disconnected from his brain. his cheek still felt… odd? weird? tingly?

it felt something from where johnny had grabbed it. ghost thinks… he thinks he likes the feeling, whatever it is.

he needs to sleep.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Can you explain the "Skully is Rollo's dead brother" theory? Cuz thats the first time Ive heard that theory.

[Referencing this post!]

I briefly discussed the theory here (before the event actually released), but I wouldn’t take it too seriously.

It’s just a crack theory that was floating around; there’s no actual evidence for it unless you want to count vague threads that connect Rollo’s dead brother and Skully/his inspiration, Jack Skellington. For example, the opening song for his film, This is Halloween, has Jack being set on fire while alive (which is how Rollo’s brother died; he lost control of a fire spell). Additionally, Skully sometimes speaks in manner that resembles Rollo (ie somewhat religiously/asking for atonement).

However, do note that nothing else makes sense. Rollo’s brother died quite young, and Skully is 16. Furthermore, Skully describes his hometown as being located in a misty valley and how they revere Jack Skellington and Halloween there. None of these were previously explained as part of Rollo’s background. Skully also mentions he goes to a magic school, which was likely not the case for Rollo’s younger brother since Rollo blames adults not being around to help. It’s probable that he never got formal instruction (or very little of it), which led to an untimely demise.

I’m sure there are other problems I could point out, but 💦 like I aid earlier, it’s more of a joke theory, not a serious one. I think most people are on the “he’s dead” theory or the “he’s been trapped in the book for longer than he lets on” theory trains, both of which I’ve also given my thoughts on.

[crazylittlejester]

im in such a yapping mood today and i feel like ive made a post like this before but this is how i personally think the Links would dress in a modern era

Time: in a casual setting I know he wears the dark jeans + black band shirt combo and sometimes he’ll tie his hair up if he gets hot. it’s not an intentional fashion statement, he’s not trying to dress a certain way on purpose by any means he just dresses like a guy who plays guitars but says its “just a hobby” (he owns at least three.) and its just the shirt and the pants, there are no accessories, he’s just your father who hasn’t listened to new music or gone clothes shopping since the 80s (/j) but he can absolutely clean up nice and looks good when he needs to

Warriors: Possibly the sluttiest thing a man can wear (/j) is a cardigan sweater and he owns like. 12 of them. and generally just a lot of very nice sweaters, and there are a lot of dark grays and blues in his closet with the occasional green. he always dresses his best, he wouldn’t be caught dead leaving his house in like, a t shirt and jeans. whether or not he’s actually wealthy, he certainly dresses like he is, he pours all of his money into high quality coats and scarves and nice shoes

Twilight: Dean Winchester. Next. (but seriously, the jeans, boots, plain gray shirt and a flannel is EXACTLY how he’d dress)

Sky: Whatever he’s got on, he looks so fucking comfortable. Definitely big fluffy sweaters, I know he’s a guy who likes to be snug and cozy because why face the horrors of the world without feeling like your sweater is giving you a mom hug? I can see him in a lot of white, ivory, orange, brown, and green. Not super bright colors, he definitely has a sort of fall vibed color pallet and sense of style

Hyrule: He’s the personification of those “forest core” outfit collage boards you see on pintrest but he’s not just doing it for aesthetic, it’s all functional. Like he has a little bag he keeps tied to his belt because he goes out and hunts for berries or mushrooms in the woods. he has a leather bound journal that also clips to the belt because he likes writing about what he finds in the woods. He’s your friend who calls you after going missing for four hours like “hey can you come pick me up?” and when you get to his location he’s covered in dirt and says “i got lost…”

Legend: his EXACT style varies quite a bit, but he’d define it as alt. he wears skirts a lot, not all the time but a lot, and has a lot of layers and jewelry. he definitely will go on pissed off rants about how he got bullied for his clothes in middle school and high school and he’s mad that now people are dressing alt because they think its “quirky” and buying things like bags or pants with patches and pins already on them, and he will rant about this twice a week. hes sick and tired of getting called emo not because hes against being emo, it just seriously annoys him when people see someone with dyed hair wearing dark clothes and call them emo based on that alone

Wild: It depends on the days activities, but he likes to look cute. Lots of pretty hairstyles and earrings, bright colors too. DEFINITELY A BIG PANTS LITTLE SHIRT KINDA GUY, and he’s absolutely made a few of his outfits by hand. and ofc he has “gremlin outfits” for when he goes off exploring with Hyrule

Four: Similar to Time with the band shirt + jeans combo, but on the opposite end of the spectrum because he’s bright and colorful. He’s also the most likely to walk around with a shirt with mothman on it and then when people ask him about it talk about it as if he 100% believes mothman is not only out there, but there to get HIM specifically no matter where he goes on the planet

Wind: memes. he has tshirts with memes on them, and he’s the most likely to wear fandom merch and stuff like that. he’s 13/14 he doesn’t put a whole lot of thought into what he’s got on, he’s just against shoes. he’s the one kid who’s always got sandals on even if its fucking snowing because he’s anti socks and shoes

[lottins-only]

I love you, it's ruining my life | Part IV

pairing: Kylian x black!fem!Reader

word count: 6.2k

part one, part two, part three

A/N: as always, please let me know what you think in my inbox <3 Like this post if you'd like to be added to my taglist.

IV. Summer 2023 through Spring 2024

July 2023

“Tic Tac!” The man on the TV had wide, and quite frankly, manic-looking eyes. “Tic Tac!”

Kylian quickly grabbed the remote and turned the TV off, releasing a sigh of relief at the ensuing silence. It was all noise these days, the minute he turned on the TV, or opened Twitter and Instagram, or even glanced at a newspaper. His name in big bold capital letters, in a headline that almost always contained the words “leaving” or “staying”. Everyone wanted to know. The paparazzi stalked his every move, yelling out the million dollar question to him any chance they got – “Kylian, are you leaving PSG?”  as if he’d respond to them. People on twitter tracked his flights, trying to see if any of the planes he boarded were headed to Madrid. Self- proclaimed insider journalists went viral on social media with their ‘scoops’, causing a flurry of conversation, and depending on which day it was and which side you were on, either joy or sadness. Turtle emojis haunted his dreams, and now, thanks to the Spanish TV channel he’d accidentally come across, so would the words ‘tic tac’.

He was a good sport about it, most times. But at times it was all too much. Like today. He’d spent the majority of it in a meeting with his mother and legal team, discussing  PSG negotiation strategies. Then he’d come home to take an afternoon nap, only to be woken up by his lawyer calling him to deliver the news: PSG had frozen him out of the first team. He’d proceeded to go to his living room and open the TV,  mindlessly scrolling through the channels, happy to not just think for a couple of minutes, to let the disbelief and anger marinate inside him until he could express it at a later time . But that was all gone when he happened upon the Tic Tac man, who apparently hosted a show that was dedicated to the Mbappe - Real Madrid Saga. Now it was back to stressing about his present, and his future. 

Truthfully, everything had started unraveling the day he’d royally fucked everything up with Y/N, back in December. The heartbreak he’d felt had been unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, so all encompassing that it had left him at a loss of equilibrium. It shook him to his core.  He didn’t just lose the girl he loved, he lost his best friend too.  He’d decided to pour everything he had into football, and he’d quite literally been rewarded for it when he’d become PSG’s top goalscorer. He felt happiness he hadn’t felt in a long while when he stood there in the stadium that evening, thousands cheering him on as he held up the trophy. But then all of it had dissipated back in his apartment, his friends and family gone after a night of celebration,  the golden 201 staring at him from his trophy cabinet. What good was any of it if he couldn’t call and share his joy  with the person who mattered to him the most? He’d felt incredibly lonely then, more lonely than when he was just 14 alone in the Monaco academy for the very first time.  Y/N had left a big, wide hole in his life, and no matter how he tried to forget it, it was still there. 

His phone, which he had  carelessly tossed across the couch, started to vibrate. It was his mother, probably calling to check on him, maybe offer some words of comfort. He ignored it. He didn’t want to speak to anyone at the moment; He didn’t have the energy to pretend he was ok, , to feign acceptance of his uncertain future and Y/N’s absence from his life. Instead, he headed to the fridge and grabbed a rare beer. He wasn’t going to be playing  professional football anytime soon , so who cared how much carbs he consumed? 

He watched his phone continue to vibrate as he took a gulp of beer. It periodically flashed different names: his parents, his brothers, his sister in law,  Tchaga. He was happy to ignore all of them in favor of wallowing in his sadness. It went on like that for an hour or so, his phone occasionally lighting up with someone calling as he sunk deeper into his misery. Then, a name appeared on the screen that made him almost choke on his beer.

He quickly grabbed the phone and answered. “Hello?” 

 “Hi” Y/N’s voice was tentative, almost shy. “Are you okay, Kylian?”

“Yeah” He managed to keep his voice steady. “Yeah, I’m okay”

“Are you sure?” her voice was tinted with concern. “It’s all over the news here. Plus, your mom is worried, said you’re not picking up your phone” 

He winced. “ Don’t mind her, It's probably all the stress from the negotiations taking a toll”

“And you?”

“And me what?” he asked.

“Is it taking a toll on you?” She clarified

“No, I’m good” he said defensively. “I’m great, actually”

His beer bottle that had been teetering on the edge of his coffee table suddenly tumbled down and crashed to the floor. 

He cursed. “Sorry, my beer just went everywhere…” 

“Beer?” She sounded surprised. “You don’t drink beer. Especially so close to the season starting”

He sighed. “Y/N, we haven’t spoken in more than 6 months. Since you fucking broke my heart, mind you. I don’t think you can confidently say you know me anymore”

“Harsh” She replied. “But maybe deserved”

He heard shuffling at the other end, and the unmistakable sound of a cat’s meow. “Is that a cat?” he asked.

“Yup. I adopted one about a month ago” she replied. “Her name is Luna”

He snorted. “Half the cats in the world are named Luna. Couldn’t you be a little original?”

“Shut up” She chuckled, then paused. “And I still know you well, by the way”

“Mmm?” He was searching for a broom and dustpan to clean up the beer bottle mess. He couldn’t find them anywhere. He was shamefully clueless about this stuff, seeing as he had a cleaning person come take care of things  like that. 

“Yeah. I can bet my salary you’re looking for something to clean up your mess with but you can’t find it” The sound of her giggle made his heart skip a beat. 

Kylian smiled in spite of himself and muttered “Fuck you” under his breath.

He finally found the broom and dustpan. 

“You know what else I can bet?” Her tone softened, turned more serious. “I can bet that the Kylian I know wouldn’t let this type of stuff get to him. No matter what pressure he’s put under, no matter what they say. He’d just let his football speak for itself”

“Yeah well, they’re not even letting me play football. That’s the issue. It’s either renew my contract  or I won't play a single minute this season. And that’s a problem, Y/N. Because if I don’t play, then It means I start getting out of form. And I can’t have that. There’s too much on the line. The Euros next summer, and then maybe the Olympics…” He’d swooped up all the broken glass carefully and was now wiping the excess beer. “I don’t want to disappoint anyone”

“What about… What about here?” 

He knew ‘here’ meant Madrid, but the way she said it made it sound like ‘here’ was more personal. For a moment he imagined a world where they were together, a world where he’d be able to find solace with her – in her city, her apartment, her bed. He quickly dismissed that thought before it could hurt him.

“I want to finish my PSG contract first” It was a line that almost felt robotic the number of times he uttered it to the press, but it was still true.

“In any case, I don’t think you should worry too much, Kylian. You have great lawyers, great people behind you. They’ll figure it out” Her voice was comforting, and for the first time, he believed those words that had been told to him by friends and family countless times. 

The door to his apartment rattled just then, and he cringed. The timing couldn’t be worse. He disposed of the glass as he heard the door unlock from the other side, and then the sound of clicking heels approaching. 

“Kyky, are you okay?” She asked, just as she came into view. “You didn’t pick up when I called”

She saw that he was on the phone, and Kylian was about to open his mouth to explain when she whispered “Is that Fayza?”

He didn’t know what possessed him to lie, but he did. He nodded a yes. 

She gave an understanding nod, before motioning that she was headed towards his bedroom.  Kylian watched as she went up the stairs, overnight bag in one hand and the sound of her heels echoing. 

A brief silence, and then, “Who was that?” from the other end of the phone. 

“You remember Sophia from Monaco? She lives in Paris now” Why did it feel like he was delivering bad news? She was the one that had left him heartbroken. “And we’re dating”

“Dating dating or are you still just hooking up?” Her voice was unreadable. 

“No, we’re dating. Shocker, but I’m actually capable of being in a relationship”

“Why did she move to Paris?” She ignored his pointed jab. “What does she even do now?”

“She’s a model” 

She snorted. “ There it is”

He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That’s your usual type, no?” 

He rolled his eyes. “Not really. My type was you. Just you.  You thought I was using you for sex, though. That’s why we didn’t work out right?”

“Well—”

“But yeah, she is a model” He ignored her, not wanting to prod his own open wound.  “Not all of us can be super smart, saving people’s lives…”

“I don’t save lives” She pointed out. “At least not directly. I’m in nonprofit work, remember?”

He did remember. He knew everything about her, admired and cherished every single detail. Yet, she wasn’t his. He’d gotten close; those 10 days after his birthday were the best of his life. But she ran away. And maybe it was his fault. It was a thought that haunted him till this day. Maybe I should have been more forward. Told her how I felt. Told her I love you.

He cleared his throat. “You know, we’re doing an event next week for the kids in my foundation. About getting into STEM fields.”

“I know” She responded. “I’m going to be there”

“What?” He couldn’t hide his surprise. 

“Yeah, your mom invited me. I’m going to be one of the speakers” She sounded amused that he didn’t know.

“Oh… I guess I’ll see you then”

“Yeah, I’ll see you” she said quietly. 

There was a brief silence, and Kylian thought it was the appropriate  time to wrap the conversation up. Any other time and they’d spend minutes in comfortable silence, speaking only when they felt like it, and on things that ranged from random to deep. But this was the first time they were speaking in months, and there was another girl waiting for him upstairs. 

“Thank you for calling. For calming me down. You’re very talented at that ” He let out a sad laugh.

“Of course. I’m always your friend, Kylian. No matter what” She said it with so much conviction it almost made up for everything else. 

He thought she was going to add something else, but she didn’t. They said their goodbyes and hung up the phone.

October 2023 

The second time they spoke on the phone, he was on a flight back from a game. It was a loss, and no one was happy, so there was a muted atmosphere on the plane. Despite that, the adrenaline still running through his veins prevented him from falling asleep. He kept awake, fidgeting in his seat, trying to fend off the thoughts that usually assailed him after a loss. Could’ve made that pass. Should’ve scored that goal. 

He decided to distract himself. He pressed play on the latest episode of his favorite show, but he couldn’t concentrate. He contemplated playing a game, but he didn't want to think. Next to him, Dembele was softly snoring. He instinctively reached for his phone, and before even thinking about it, called Y/N. 

She picked up almost instantly. “Hello?” Her groggy voice made him realize it was well past midnight in Madrid.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was so late. We can –”

“It’s fine, it’s fine” Her voice was soft. “What’s up?”

He looked out at the night sky through the small airplane window. “Nothing, nothing. Just couldn’t sleep, and thought I’d try and talk to someone” 

She chuckled. “Well, you’re in luck, because I’ve been sitting at my desk for the past hour trying to study. You caught me just when I started to doze off”

“Study for what?” He kept his voice low to not wake his neighbor. “I thought you were done with all of that”

“Decided I have one more degree in me” She said. “I started a masters program”

“Wow. So you’re juggling classes, your job, and being a mom to Luna” He tsked jokingly. “That’s a lot on your plate”

“Tell me about it” She yawned. “I’m fully embracing the cat lady stereotype these days”

“What, no guys hitting you up?” He kept his tone teasing, but he was very curious.

“Don’t have time, is all” She responded. “I barely leave the apartment during the weekends… I barely even see friends”

He frowned, imagining her cooped up in her tiny apartment all alone, straining her eyes by poring over her books. Neglecting herself. “Y/N, you work so hard, don’t forget to take care of yourself”

“I’m managing” Her tone was soft but strained. His frown deepened. How had he not noticed the deep tiredness in her voice until now?

“So, what are you doing this weekend?” She asked, clearly trying to change the subject. “Any plans with Sophia?”

“Well, we have two days off, so I was thinking–” A lightbulb flickered inside his head. “I’m actually going to be in Madrid”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah” He lied. “ I’ve got a Nike photoshoot”

“So, I’ll get to see you right?”

“Yes, of course. You’ll have to text me your address and stuff and I’ll come by..”

She didn’t express any excitement, and he didn’t blame her. He felt nervous himself,  seeing as this would be their first meeting alone since December. He’d come up with the idea on the spot, lying about a photoshoot,  because something in her voice was off. He wanted to see her, to check on her. Plus, he missed her. 

He texted his assistant to arrange a flight and a hotel to Madrid before the plane even landed in Paris. He rushed back to his apartment just to shower and to pack a bag, then he was once again on a plane, making his way to Y/N. 

By morning, he was in sunny Madrid. By mid-morning, his driver was taking him to Y/N’s apartment. His heart was beating out of his chest as he knocked on her door. A few seconds, and it opened. And there she was. 

He was struck by a sense of longing, the heartache he’d felt all those months compounded tenfold at the sight of her. He couldn’t dwell on that, though, because the longing immediately gave way to a wave of concern. She looked exhausted, her curls frazzled and dark circles visible on her tired face. Despite this, she smiled at him wordlessly and let him inside. 

Her apartment was a reflection of her current state – chaotic and disheveled. Papers and books were scattered across surfaces, take-out boxes on the floor. 

“Sorry about the mess, I got swept away with work” She shrugged at him in embarrassment as he cleared away papers on the sofa to take a seat.

“No worries” he said, looking around her apartment. This was his first time in her living space.

“Do you want me to get you anything? Water?” She asked, just as a blob of gray fur suddenly flew across the room from nowhere and leaped at him.

“ Ow!” Kylian exclaimed as the cat’s claw made contact with his face. He looked down at it with a disapproving look.“ You must be Luna. Thanks for that”

Luna meowed at him contentedly from her perch on his lap. Y/N chuckled, but her laugh quickly turned into a yawn.

He scratched Luna’s ears and gave Y/N a serious look. “ You need to sleep. Now” 

“But I— 

“No buts. You need rest” He said firmly “ You go take a nap, I’ll chill with Luna”

“ But you just got here!”

“ We have the whole weekend to hang out”

She frowned. “ You came here for work though”

He ignored her comment. “Just go sleep,Y/N”

With a resigned sigh, she made way to the bedroom. 

He looked back at Luna, then at the messy apartment. A former coach of his had once told him a person’s living space was a reflection of their mental state. He sighed at the British shorthair. “Let’s get to work Luna”

He started by gathering the books and papers, carefully arranging them so they were all in the right place. Next, He cleared away all the trash and disposed of it. He wiped all the surfaces of the living room and kitchen, restoring some sense of order. Luna trailed after him all throughout his cleaning, rubbing her head against his leg once in a while.

After some contemplation, he decided to take the risk and walk to the grocery store across from her apartment building.  Thankfully, the store clerk didn’t recognize him in his cap and sunglasses so he got his shopping done without any hassle. Back in the apartment, he replaced the wilted flowers on her kitchen table with the fresh ones he’d gotten, then put away the groceries he’d picked up. 

He’d never cooked a meal in his entire life, but he figured he’d be able to follow a recipe. So he pulled up youtube and searched up a simple pasta recipe. It took him longer than he’d anticipated, but by the time Y/N woke up, there was a steaming home cooked meal waiting for her on the kitchen table.

She broke into a giggle as soon as she walked out of her bedroom, her eyes lighting up in delight. “You did all this?”

He raised his arms up in mock triumph. “I’m not a completely useless human being outside of football, you know”

“Never said you were” She took a seat by the kitchen table, eagerly stabbing a fork through her pasta.

He watched her take a bite, a grin spreading across his face as she gave him an approving thumbs up. Nothing he loved more than validation from Y/N.

He plated up some for himself, and they ate in companionable silence. Afterwards, Y/N insisted on cleaning up and he didn’t protest, seeing as doing the dishes had always been his least favorite chore ever since he was a kid. He watched her move around the kitchen, already sensing less tension in her after the nap and meal. 

When dusk rolled around, he turned to her and grinned. “Time for you to show me your city”. And so they set off, him dressed modestly in just a T-shirt , sweatpants, a cap and pair of sunglasses not to attract attention and her in a pretty yellow sundress. This was his first time venturing outside without a bodyguard in years, and he was sure his mother would have a heart attack if she found out, but he didn’t tell Y/N; he wanted her to feel completely at ease. As they walked, she pointed out some of her favorite things about the city: the mix of historic and contemporary architecture, and the street art. He listened attentively, though his anxiety was growing. It would take only one person to notice him for word to spread around and a mob to form. Then he could do little to protect Y/N or himself. 

She must have sensed his worry, because shortly after she pulled him into one of the less crowded cafes. They took a seat outside, his back facing the streets. He watched her people watch, the setting sun casting golden hues over her face. She’d gotten a scoop of ice cream while he was sipping on peach iced tea. 

“You know, I hate to complain, but sometimes I wish it was easier” His tone was heavy. “Whenever I’m outside, it feels like I’m always on guard. ” He turned and looked wistfully at the bustling street.

“On the bright side, you’re living your dream” She reminded him with a sympathetic look. “Not many people can say that”

He nodded in agreement, then paused. “Do you think, you and I,  if there wasn’t all of this”–He gestured vaguely at himself – “would we have worked out?”

She raised her eyebrows at him, clearly surprised at his question. “I don't – Kylian, I–”

He interrupted her, snorting bitterly. “Remember when you basically told me I’m a fuckboy athlete using you for sex?”

“We don’t need to talk about that now, Kylian” She looked down at her ice cream.

“No, I think we do” He said firmly. “Do you know how much you hurt me?”

She looked up at him. “ Kylian… I’ve seen the pictures, heard the stories. Plus the way you behaved during our…situationship or whatever you call it.  You can’t fault me for thinking that way”

“What do you mean the way I behaved?” He laughed bitterly. “ You were the only person I was seeing.  Holding hands, kissing, I’ve never done that in public before with anyone else.  All because I was proud you were mine… at least I thought you were going to be mine.”

“Well that’s the issue, Kylian. You never told me any of that. I was hurt.. I thought I was just a temporary distraction to you” She said quietly. “I thought you were throwing away our friendship just for sex”

He was hurt that that was the way she viewed him. But he hadn’t led her to believe otherwise, had he? He’d never entertained the idea of a relationship with anyone before her simply because he’d never liked someone so much before her. And so most of his late teen years and early twenties had been spent in a cycle of casual flings, never letting anyone get too close. He could see why she’d thought that way.

“Y/N, I never meant to make you feel like that,” he said, his voice earnest. “I’ve never been in a place where I cared about someone as much as I care about you. Maybe I didn’t show it right, but it was never just about a fling for me.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway, though” She continued, locking eyes with him. “We have two completely different lifestyles… it would never work” She said the last part quietly, as if it was a painful truth she would’ve rather be false.

“So your answer is yes?” He tried to hide the pain in his voice.

“What?”

“The answer to my original question, about my career being in the way, it’s yes right?”

She slowly nodded. He nodded back, a silent acceptance passing between them. Perhaps she was right; they lived in different countries, worked two completely different jobs. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. He had Sophia– who lived in the same city as him, who ran in the same circles, who had no problem throwing herself into his world. That should have consoled him, but he couldn’t help but feel that this would be the ‘what if’ that haunted him forever. 

She reached out and took his hand. “But Kylian, your friendship means the world to me. I want that forever.  I mean look at me, I was on the verge of collapse before you visited. Thank you, by the way” She added, giggling self-deprecatingly. 

He managed a small, bittersweet smile. His phone rang just then, and Y/N snatched her hand back when she saw the caller ID on his phone. It was Sophia, wanting to know how his photoshoot was going. He weaved a web of half-truths while Y/N looked down, playing with her ice cream.

By the time he hung up, the sun had completely set and the bustling street outside was bathed in street lights. He’d drunk the last of his iced tea while Y/N spooned the final bits of her ice cream. He found himself watching, mesmerized as her tongue peeked out of her mouth to lick her spoon. Her tongue darted out again to swipe the remaining ice cream from her plump lips.  His mouth slightly gaped as she closed her eyes, letting out a  soft moan of satisfaction. “That was really good” She said as he moved his eyes away and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Even after the painful conversation they’d had, she was capable of getting his blood flowing to all the wrong places in his body. He didn’t know if it was pathetic or funny. 

He cleared his throat. “Let’s head back, shall we?”

February 2024

“Look this way, you two!” The photographer shouted over the loud chatter. Kylian had slowly grown irritated throughout the night; first it was the itchy jacket that clung to him, then the seemingly endless stream of people coming up to him asking for pictures, and now it was this nosy photographer trying to get a snap that he could sell to the tabloids. He knew he was hired by Tchaga to document the opening of his new business, so he tried to keep a polite facade. “No thanks,” He said. “We’re good”

The photographer moved along, clearly disappointed. Next to him, Y/N gave him a playful pout. “You don’t want  pictures with me?”

He rolled his eyes at her. “You know why”

She smirked at him as she took a sip of her drink. “Can’t help it if people think I’m hot”

A few weeks ago, a video of Y/N speaking at his foundation event back in July had resurfaced online and gained traction on Twitter and Tiktok. People were commenting on the ‘insane chemistry’ between her and Kylian, and how they looked like the perfect match. Up until then, Y/N had been able to maintain her anonymity; she was never photographed with Kylian or seen out with him. She’d always joked about making her public debut in his documentary fifty years from now, where she’d recount embarrassing stories from his childhood. But that video going viral meant she’d had hundreds of thousands of people camping out on her Instagram page, convinced she was his latest love interest. A few tabloid articles soon followed the social media buzz, lighting up even more speculation online.  The irony of  all of that happening just  as they finally moved past their short lived romance was not lost on Kylian. 

Though she hadn’t mentioned it, he knew she wasn’t taking this invasion of her  privacy lightly. He felt a pang of guilt,  especially since this wasn’t the expected outcome when she’d volunteered to speak to the kids. So he overcompensated sometimes, like in this instance, to make sure no photos of them leaked online or on tabloids to fuel further gossip. 

He watched her open her email app for the third time at night, anxiously refreshing it to see if there were any new messages in her inbox.

 “Stop that” He snatched the phone out of her hand.  

“Give me–” She started protesting, but he’d already replaced her empty hand with another drink.

“You need to relax, they’ll get back to you when they get back to you” He said.

She sighed, nodding hesitantly. She’d come to Paris for a job interview with a company she’d been impressed by for a while. She wasn’t very stressed before the interview, saying she’d rather stay at her job in Madrid anyway, but no one likes facing rejection. As a result, she kept checking her phone for updates while in the middle of the party,  which she’d been able to attend because it had coincided with the day of the job interview. 

They watched as Tchaga made a speech, Kylian clapping proudly for his best friend. Y/N left shortly after he cut the ribbon, citing exhaustion. Kylian offered his driver to take her home but she declined, so he walked  her out of the party and waited for her Uber with her. 

“Where’s Sophia tonight?” She asked, shivering slightly in the cold evening air.

“Oh, we broke up” He said casually, shedding his jacket and holding it up for her.

“What?” Her eyes widened in surprise as she turned around, letting him drape the jacket over her shoulders. “I didn’t know that”

He shrugged. “ It wasn’t working out. We wanted different things”

“And what were those?”

“She..” He paused, measuring his words. “ She wanted to be more public. And I didn’t want that”

It was more than that. She’d started posting photos of inside his house, which Kylian had expressed his discomfort at. She didn’t understand where he was coming from though, didn’t understand that as someone who was in the public eye from a very young age he placed a high value on his privacy. Then it was calling photographers whenever they were out together– at events,  restaurants, you name it. He’d always known that being her boyfriend increased her profile in the modeling world, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was in the entire relationship just for the spotlight. So, he’d called it quits. Her reaction had confirmed his suspicions – he’d seen pictures of her out and about with an A list actor just a few days after their break up.

“I’m sorry, Kyky” She gave him a hug, wrapping her arms around his torso. He rested his chin on the top of her head, fighting the urge to kiss her wind frazzled curls.

“You haven’t called me that in a long time” 

“ Just wanted to reclaim the nickname I gave you, now that she’s out of your life”  She grumbled.

Kylian chuckled, feeling slightly satisfied by the jealous undertone in her voice.Y/N had still never met Sophia but she always overheard her call him Kyky over  the phone. It was true that she was the one who’d come up with the nickname when they were younger. He liked that she was possessive over him; over a part of him, at least.

They said their goodbyes after a few moments, and he watched her uber speed away. He only went back inside when the car turned the corner and disappeared. 

Inside the party, he mingled with friends of friends and other acquaintances. An hour or so went by before it was just his inner circle left. He stood around with Ethan, his father, and Tchaga, chatting about the week’s football and other random tidbits. 

Ethan pointed at the small beard on his chin, laughing.  “You’re still growing that out? We told you it sucks” 

Him and Tchaga had teased him mercilessly about it last time he’d grown it out, saying it was tacky. He’d quickly shaved after that.

“Oh, Y/N said she liked it so I just kept it” He shrugged.

“You’d probably wear clown shoes if she told you they looked good”  His father muttered quietly.

Ethan and Tchaga burst into laughter, while Kylian’s face flushed. Seeing his son's embarrassment, Wilfried quickly corrected himself.

“What I meant to say,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender, “is that you clearly value her opinion more than anyone else’s.”

“Which is great” Tchaga added “If you both weren’t running away from your feelings”

Kylian groaned.

“It’s never going to work out” He automatically repeated the words she’d said to him, the same words he said to himself during sleepless nights.

His father squeezed his shoulder and looked him in the eye. “To me, it just seems like you’re both scared. Maybe take a leap of faith. It’s obvious you two care about each other a lot… If you don’t give it a shot, you’re going to regret it. Trust me”

You’re going to regret it. Wasn’t he already? Deep down, he knew there was no one else for him besides her. Anyone else he kissed, slept with, dated, or even had a fleeting connection with was just second best. No one knew him like she did, no one else had his heart in the palm of their hand. If he didn’t tell her now, then they’d start drifting apart. Separate futures.  Separate lives with different families and different partners. A life of misery is what awaited him.

He sighed. He knew what to do.

April 2024

Kylian had arrived in Madrid on that April morning  with two missions; First to sign the most important contract of his professional career so far, then to tell his best friend he was in love with her. The first part was straightforward; himself and his group of lawyers had met Real Madrid’s lawyers, signed the papers, and sealed the deal. Just like that, the most dramatic football transfer saga of the decade came to an end. 

The second one he’d been more nervous for. He’d tried to come up with a script, something romantic like in the movies. But it felt disingenuous, so he decided he’d make it up as we went along.  Hey, I know you said we’re never going to work out, but we’re going to be living in the same city soon so why don’t we give it a try? Nah, that was too simple. He needed to come up with something better.

He met her at her apartment in the evening, leaving behind his mother and the rest of the team who’d come along for the contract signing.

“He’s off to see his girlfriend now” His mother had announced to the table when he excused himself after their late lunch. 

He’d flinched at the term and whispered, “She’s not my girlfriend”

“Oh, really?” She shot him a look that could melt steel.  “And why is that?” 

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “Don’t even start with the ‘I don’t have time’ excuse . You two  can spare 2 hours a day to talk on the phone, so you clearly do have the time”

He didn’t respond, just gave her a small smile. Being called out by both parents for unresolved feelings wasn’t for the weak.  Hopefully, he'd give her good news by the next day. 

Now, he was in Y/N’s living room, waiting for her to finish getting ready before they went out to dinner. After contemplating how he’d talk to her about it, he’d decided dinner was the best option so he’d proposed the idea that they go out for a nice meal.  He entertained himself by playing with Luna as he waited for her, watching the cat run around the apartment leaving chaos in her wake. 

He looked up when he heard the sound of heels.  Y/N emerged out of her room, looking beautiful in a white dress that hugged her figure gracefully. It was knee length, sleeveless and was complemented by a pair of tall white heels. Almost involuntarily, his gaze wandered up her legs, admiring the way the white of her dress contrasted with her brown skin. His eyes traced the curve of her hips – he’d once had the privilege of laying his hands on them, but now he could only stare longingly.

She cleared her throat and his eyes immediately darted away. She had an amused look on her face, clearly aware of where his thoughts had been. He just smirked back in response, as if to say “sue me”.

“You look beautiful” He said quietly.

“Thank you” She said. She was glowing more than usual, the happiness on her face evident. 

“You look really happy” He noted, smiling at her. “It suits you”

“Well, it’s because I got that job I told you about!” She squealed in excitement. 

His smile faltered. “What?”

“I was going to tell you over dinner, but I couldn’t wait” She shrugged happily, her delight evident.

“Wow” He was well and truly speechless. “Congratulations”

“Thank you” She beamed at him.

“So, you’ll be moving?” He dreaded the answer to that question.

She nodded in affirmation. “I’m really excited”

He thought about the cruel coincidences that had followed them for years; She left Paris as soon as he came back to Paris, and now she was leaving Madrid to Paris just as he was leaving Paris to come to Madrid. It felt like a cosmic joke from the universe, a message that they were never meant to be. The thing he wanted most in the world at the tip of his fingers, now gone. He felt tears prick his eyes but he blinked them away. 

“Kylian, are you okay?” Y/N gave him a concerned look.

He put on his best fake smile, the one he reserved for journalists. “Yeah, I’m fine. Come on, let’s go celebrate”

tags: @kyliansonlygf @ynkfreeastheocean @scottishthistle @user6373738 @lucysantos6-blog @tuliptopiasstuff @kennasutopia @cinderellawithashoe @akiracim @kymb-10 @germanapples @ariesmai

[mistymisfit]

So long, Marianne IV

Summary: Reader is a spy working undercover in Gotham when she meets Jason Todd, who despite her better judgement she forms a very close friendship with. This story follows their escape from Arkham asylum, their fall out and the times they run into each other as they get older.

Warnings: mentions of sex (but nothing smutty happens), mentions of past torture and sa!!, also one mention of Jason pushing reader's hair back but that's all that's said, no texture or anything specified.

Word Count: 4,1K

a/n: told myself i'd stop posting this series on tumblr and keep it only on ao3 but whatever, i'm having writer's block so idc

Read on ao3

Masterlist - Mobile masterlist

Your first thought is "what are we even doing anymore?" It's great to have him back in your life, but what the fuck is going on? Ever since you worked things out with him after what happened in Gotham, you started to sneak and meet him in secret. First, it was random hotels until he bought a few safe houses in the city. You never went to the same place twice. The safe houses would always switch after a while, he'd sell them and replace them. Out of the current ones, there was one of them uptown, then the other was downtown, and the third one was near the harbors.

You've been doing this for months, secretly meeting him in the dead of night every once in a while, and it'd always end up the same way. You see him, you get overwhelmed with how much you missed him and cry, then he'd wipe your tears off, and you'd sleep with him and leave. Frankly, you were growing a bit tired of it. He wasn't honest to you most of the time, wouldn't even tell you what he did when he was not with you. It didn't matter how great he was, it was exhausting being pushed away this much.

The first time you met him like this you cried, telling him all about how sorry you were for yelling at him like that, for saying all those things to him and leaving so cruelly. And he'd say he was sorry about locking you up and that he was a jerk- you agreed on that. To be fair, you were both wrong; you put yourself in danger going to Gotham that day, but it didn't give him the right to behave like that.

"Let go of me!" You had screamed when he picked you up, carrying you over his shoulder. "I swear to God, Ja-"

He cuts you off with a grunt before you can say his name. You trashed and kicked, but it was no match against his strength. Using your powers was out of the question, freezing him would only make it harder to escape his grasp. In between you cursing and yelling at him, he managed to walk to the military car so he could throw you into the backseat.

"Is this your fucking plan?" You were yelling as he opened the door "Have you lost your mind? You are giving him exactly what he wanted!"

"Shut the fuck up," He whispered angrily, putting a gloved hand over your mouth and hovering over you as you laid on your back. You looked around to see his men on the front seats quickly averting their gaze from you two. Of course, it was all about questioning his authority in front of them, it was fragile like that. "I don't want you to get hurt, so they're going to take you somewhere safe"

You took his hand off your face before saying "And I thought you were making decisions for yourself. Can't you see you're still his puppet? Just stop-"

"Enough, you are leaving. Now" You watched as one of his hands searched something in his pockets, handcuffs. It almost made you want to roll your eyes.

"Ja- Wait, what are you- stop it" You kicked him, trying to get out of his grasp "you're a fucking idiot, you're so brainwashed you can't see you're playing right into his trap"

"Quit it"

"Quit it? Let go of me!" You shrieked as he managed to bound your wrists behind your back. Then the anger got to you and you lowered your voice before you could say the meaner things you could come up with "You never left Arkham, huh? Figured I forgot a part of you there, left your humanity behind"

"Yeah, I'm a real monster sweetheart" He scoffs, and even over the modulated voice, you can tell the hurt in his voice, how much your words were affecting him. It made you feel bad for a second until you remembered how he was treating you.

"Clearly, you're not the person I thought you were." That's the last thing you say to him before he knocks his helmet against your head, rendering you unconscious so you wouldn't escape and ruin his plans.

You woke up with a killer headache and no idea how long you've been out or where you were. What you do know is that you're laying down on a mattress on the floor, no longer handcuffed and with an ice pack on your forehead right were Jason hit you. As you gradually regained consciousness, you started to check your whereabouts before you could move again. The room was dark, had no windows, and looking at the walls, you realized you were at some old, run down abandoned place. Panic quickly washed over you as you checked the state of your clothing; nothing was wrong with it, and you left out a sigh of relief.

You could hear voices outside, not outside the door but a bit further away. Moving as silently as you could, you walked towards the voices, going down a set of stairs and hiding behind a pile of wooden boxes as you tuned into the conversation a few meters away from you. It seemed to be some sort of weapon exchange, as most of you could make out of what they were saying was about either guns or ammo. You could only see the backs of some of Jason's men and not who they were talking to, but you recognized that voice as soon as you heard it. You took a step back, unknowingly knocking over some things and not being able to react and freeze them on time due to the shock. You'd drawn their attention to you now; neither Jason's nor Harley's goons were as fast as her to react.

"You!" She exclaimed in that high-pitched voice of hers, your heart felt heavy in your chest as it felt tighter and tighter and harder to get the air in and out of your lungs. You could feel the acid traveling from your stomach to your mouth and had to swallow down the need to puke."All grownup, Arkham's little princess!"

She kept talking as she walked closer to you, you shook your head saying no, unable to get any word out of pure fear; it had been years since you had felt that helpless. "Ah, you always healed so fast, not a scar on your pretty face, besides you know...that" Her cold fingers traced the tiny scar on the apple of your right cheek before you weakly pushed her hand off.

Your fingers went to your cheekbone, covering over the area you healed all those years ago, Jason didn't know about it. He didn't need to know about the acid burn scar you would have on your face had it not been for your powers.

"You used to be my cutesy dress up doll!"She laughed, grabbing a strand of your hair and twirling it "Remember when you wore my outfits? You looked so adorable!"

Then you remembered you were no longer tied up or keeping a cover or that you haven't been Marianne for a while. So with any and all the strength you could find, you raised your fist and delivered a swift and highly trained blow to her face. The silence that followed was deafening; the militia men were well instructed and had orders not to let anything happen to you, so they were ready to stop the situation from escalating. Stopping Harley's company from getting involved. She spat out blood and smiled, her twisted smile made your stomach turn once more. But you were free, or at least freer, so you grabbed one of her ponytails and smashed her head to the concrete wall. No longer putting up with the torture she put you through.

"What's wrong?" She teased, laughing through it "Didn't cha' miss me too? Cause I sure did! How much fun was it when I nailed your hand to-"

You let go of her hair only to push her away, making her stumble a few steps from you "Shut up, shut the fuck up!"

Then it's her laugh, that wicked, overly exaggerated high laugh that made you launch yourself again at her to fight her before you're stopped, dragged back by someone. You look up to see his expressionless helmet. He's been here this whole time? Didn't matter as you immediately started wriggling, trying to get out of his hold.

"Heal her" He ordered you, you jerk your arm out of his hand and take a few steps back, almost tripping. What? You looked up at him with eyes brimmed with tears begging to be shed and scared at how much he reminded you of him at that moment. It was like you went straight back to your captors, forcing you to heal and slow down his disease.

"No." your voice came out so low and shaky that you almost cringed at yourself.

"Stop causing me so much trouble and fix her face"

"You will not speak to me like that"

"I'll speak however I want, now do as you're told" He grabbed your face harshly; he didn't like the look in your eyes at all, or the fact that he successfully scared you into doing something you didn't want to. A whine escaped your lips as he gripped your jaw tighter, and only eased up once your eyes lit up. He could already feel the guilt eating him up, but his mind was dead set on carrying on with his revenge.

"Harley get you and your people the fuck outta here" He orders, before giving his men the same command. To leave you two alone.

"Gladly," She scoffs, holding her no longer broken nose "it was good to see ya' again"

"You're working with her?" you recriminated, shoving him and getting out of his grip once she left

"She works for me."

"Don't you dare touch me," you stepped back, raising your arms defensively when he tried to reach out for you "you heard her, you know what she did-"

"I'm using her, it's part of a plan"

"Did this big plan of yours really need her?" You sighed, wiping the tears that fell down your face; again, you found yourself crying over the same thing. Something you thought you had pushed down years ago. His silence gave you all the answers you needed

"Fine, I'm leaving"

"Wait a-" His hand caught your wrist.

"Let go of me," You struggled out of his hold "I don't even know who the fuck you are anymore. Working with her, all of them, you really are just one of the people you used to chase"

He opened his mouth to say something, not that you would know under the mask, but stopped when you added one last thing before you left. "You're just like him, and killing Batman won't fix the shell of a man you are"

Jason regretted what he did, his revenge plan didn't seem as important when he broke down after being unable to kill Bruce. He had him, but he didn't manage to pull it off. He lamented it especially when he needed you so badly to tell him it'd be okay and he wasn't a failure but you wouldn't, and now he'd probably lost that comfort forever due to his own doing.

He thought very differently. From his point of view, he was coming to you whenever he needed a decent sleep. It seemed this was the only way he could get at least an hour of useful rest, he thought fucking you was a way of making you hate him less. Maybe if he made you feel good, then you'd let him get close. It was his very fucked up way of saying he was sorry. This was the routine until tonight when he showed up incredibly injured, talking about some black mask character-- whoever that was. He had broken a few ribs and his nose; his body was poorly stitched in multiple places, and you were sure he had more wounds than those he admitted. It was a miracle he managed to leave Gotham to see you. Despite his insistence on being okay and that he was not in pain, you got to healing him.

"You have-"He whispers, wiping the blood off your nose.

"Oh it happens sometimes," You brush it off, taking the tissue from him. "do you feel better?"

"Mhm, thanks" He nods, cupping the back of your head with his hand and pushing you into a kiss.

"Wait, you should rest" You sighed "I haven't healed you completely "

"I know-" He smirks, kissing you again.

"Jay, I don't want to" You put your hand on his chest, trying to get some distance.

He sighs getting away from you and sitting as far as he could on the couch. Even if he was pissing you off, you've grown to appreciate seeing him in casual clothes. Right now, he was wearing a (way too tight) black shirt, his cargo pants as well as his boots were also black. He'd lost the leather jacket the second he walked through the door of the safe house, the safe house he'd bought to be able to meet you. You knew that with Jason you had to take what you could get, so you cherished seeing him dress like a normal person for the actual weather and not being covered from head to toe. You sigh back, rolling your eyes, and crawling to his side.

"Can't we just talk?" You whisper, tracing circles on his chest and hoping he wouldn't just get up and leave.

"Talk? " He chuckles in disbelief "What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know, anything" You shrug, but a smile creeps up your lips when he turns to see you.

"How was your day at work?" He teases, knowing you wouldn't tell him about that.

"Ugh," You complain, but when you try to get away from him he is fast to grab you and pull you flush to his chest "Jason, is this all that you want from me?"

"What do you mean?" He lets go of you enough so you can put your arms on him to prop yourself up to look him in the eye.

"Sex, Jay" You sigh exasperated "Do you visit me just 'cause you want to get laid?"

He's taken aback by your question; you wanted more from him? Also, is that what you think of him? And on your side, you can't decipher his expression. Sometimes you miss being 16 and knowing exactly what went through his mind. He used to be so easy to read, now it's like he's purposely closing off any and all information he didn't want to give to you willingly. You had your suspicions that he'd come see you just because it was easier for him than letting some random girl see his scars, you even doubted he went out at all for the very same reason. You figured maybe it was easier to let his guard down with you since you had already seen the worst of him and been through the same. Maybe it was just convenient that he was still in touch with his high school sweetheart.

He shakes his head no, regretting giving you that impression. His cheeks blushed thinking he was to blame for it, remembering how he broke into your apartment that night. He intended to apologize, in between his new activity as Red Hood, he'd found the time to search for you in Bludhaven like he was originally meant to before you found him first. He stood on the roof of a building in front of yours for weeks before he actually tried to contact you, going over and over again if you'd even want to know anything from him. Eventually, he grew a pair, missing you far outweighed the shame he felt.

"Shit," You cursed when you saw him standing on your apartment "you can't be here"

He was disappointed by your reaction, yet he knew he should be grateful you weren't greeting him with a punch to his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but you immediately signaled him to stop. You looked around for a pen and paper and wrote down: meet me at the Harborview plaza 3 streets down. I'll get a room and leave the window open for you.

He agreed with a silent nod and left through your window, he made his way to where you told him to meet you. Jason knew he was in no position to question you and ask why wouldn't you want him in your apartment. He clearly knew where you lived, so keeping that a secret wasn't an issue. He expected yelling, cursing; Jason knew you never held back any words when mad at him. While overthinking your skittish behavior, he finally sees you open the window on a seventh floor. Of course, you couldn't have made it easy and asked for a room on the first floor, but then again he was the one taking you to the top of Gotham's skyscrapers so you could marvel at the view when you were 16.

"You shouldn't have gone there, we don't know if they're listening" You explained as soon as he came in through the window.

"I-uh,sorry" He's had months to think about what to say to you, but now that you're in front of him he's at a loss for words. No speech he had prepared came to his aid. "I didn't think about that"

He reaches for his bike helmet, undoing the buckle under his chin so he could drop it and see you. Or mainly so you could see him, maybe it was selfish of him, but he wanted someone to see him, look him in the eye and not be scared of him. Jason wanted to know if he could still count on you for that.

"I'm so sorry," You started to sniff as soon as you saw his face, wiping the tears with the sleeves of your sweater "I never should've said those things to you"

"No, I'm sorry"He finally took a step closer to you, pulling you in for a hug "I'd never forgive me if I were you"

"I don't think you're like him at all, I'm sorry I told you that" Your cries turned into sobbing, and suddenly you couldn't hold back any emotion anymore as you set the waterfalls of your eyes free. It was like a dam broke when you saw him, and everything you've been pushing down was now out in the open and you couldn't control it. He let you cry into his chest, wrapping his arms around you and rubbing your back to comfort you. After a while, when the sobbing didn't seem to calm down, he guided you to sit on the bed. Wiping the tears from your face with his thumbs. Kneeling down in front of you, he told you to take deep breaths, helping you relax.

"Baby," he whispered, kissing your knee over the jeans you wore "I keep fucking everything up with you, can you forgive me?"

You nodded, still tearing up and opening up your arms, so he'd come up and hug you. He does so, pushing your back to the bed and laying on top of you in the process. You're about to say you're sorry again when he kisses you. He stops, giving you a second to tell him to fuck off and looking for a response in your eyes. Lucky for him, you understood his silent question and nodded as your fingers ran through the back of his hair, and he lowered himself once more to kiss you saying, "I'm sorry, I'll never do that again to you"

So with Jason finding himself sleeping and waking up with more energy, your little rendezvous started. He's only realizing now that he has been giving you a wrong impression all this time. He sighs before, in a rare flash of vulnerability, he tells you what he thinks.

"I've been trying to make it up to you," his eyes dart to the floor, he's got every right to still be embarrassed about kidnapping you and what he made you do "make you hate me less"

The closest he's been to opening up like this was that one time when he had you wrapped under his arms, your skin touching his, and the question slipped from his overworked mind through his lips: "Are you scared of me?" You shook your head no, pressing a kiss to his scarred chest as you drifted off asleep. "No, no I'm not. We're okay," you had mumbled in response.

"I don't hate you, Jay" Music to his ears, he even contemplates asking you to say it again

"But you cry every time we meet"

"I-" You don't want to admit he has a great point, besides now that you think about it, this is the first time you ever said no to him "I have my reasons, besides you cry too, does that mean you hate me?"

"No" He defends himself, damn it, he thought he was hiding it well "I could never hate you, I love you no what ifs"

You smiled sweetly; that was what you said to him once. Many many years ago, when he was still Robin, it felt you were both completely different people from that distant memory where you told him "I love no what ifs, Jay". He had laughed then, now you doubted he would ever be that joyful again.

"Come on, you used to tell me everything," You encourage him "tell me something, anything"

"Anything?" He pushes your hair back, and you nod eagerly "You don't look like a Marianne, or a Penny, or any of your other aliases"

"Really?" You raise an eyebrow in fake disbelief, you never felt those names suited you anyways"Does my real name fit me better?"

"Yes," He whispers with his hand cupping your cheek. Even if your situation is not the best or what he'd hoped for when you first met, he's still glad to have you around. Sometimes, he remembers all the dreams and plans he had and holds back from scoffing when he recalls how he already made his world spin around you before you even kissed.

"You know," Now your hand caresses his scarred cheek "my offer still stands, I can try to get rid of your scar if you want to"

He blinks, not knowing how to take your words. Did it bother you? Did it make you like him less? He takes your hand off his face, and with that, he withdraws the hand in yours. Your expressions turns sadder, he can tell, so instead, he opts to deflect the conversation as he usually does.

"Can I ask you something?" He changes the subject, and you nod, allowing him to do so even if it's exhausting at this point "Would you ever want to get out?"

"Jay-" you sigh, knowing where this conversation is headed. You couldn't leave with him, no matter how badly you wanted to. "You know I can't"

"I asked if you wanted, not if you could" He insists, secretly hoping you give him the answer he expects. Give him a sign of how important he is to you, he'd drop his Red Hood persona in a second if you asked. He's learned his lesson after being the knight, and he's been trying to redeem himself by taking out the bad guys in Gotham instead of working with them.

"Of course I want to but-"

"We could find a way out, I-" he doubts but decides to push through "want more than this"

"Hm, you want me to be your real girlfriend?" you hum, your expression softening and your shoulders relaxing as you played with his hair, him leaning into your touch which he finally learned to enjoy. "You'll finally take me out on a real date?"

"Yes, everything," He closed his eyes, relaxing even more. His tone also weakened, becoming almost a pathetic whimper as he made promises to you "whatever you want"

"You'll be honest with me?" You question, your free hand going to the other side of his face, making him look at you.

"Yes, I promise" He replies, holding your gaze "We'll work something out"

"Okay, I'll get you as much information as I can." You nodded, maybe you could hold onto the hope that he'd put his brain and abilities to good use and he could find the way out that you couldn't. Maybe two heads can think better than one alone.

[rad-roche]

Idk if youve been asked this before, but you're the first person I thought of who might have some recs

Ive got a hankerin' for some really good vintage detective movies. Like the kind that sticks with you. The kind that makes you lean back in your chair with a new appreciation for trench coats, you get me?

What's your best detective movie recommendation

Always happy to share old movie recs! I've included links where applicable. If you're totally new to them, the one I always point people to first is...

The Maltese Falcon! A classic. One of the most heavily-referenced movies ever, for good reason.

As far as others, here's a list in no particular order. Mostly noir, since hardboiled detective stories butt up against it in the time period.

The Big Sleep (Its two leads were cast for chemistry, so it's sexually charged to a degree that almost reads as demented, and I say this in the best way possible.)

Murder, My Sweet (Sad wet miserable hot middle-aged detective simulator. This movie puts Dick Powell in a shoebox and shakes him really hard. If you dig the thought of the lead guy being shot full of heroin, wandering around on the verge of sobbing and sweating out everything he's ever drank, this is the one.)

Kiss Me Deadly (Its not my favourite, but its the one I find myself thinking of a lot. It's really weird in ways I can't get into without spoiling it, and I respect it. Maybe it'll be your favourite!)

Laura ('A police detective falls in love with the woman whose murder he is investigating.' Great movie)

Stray Dog (Akira Kurosawa. I don't have to say anything else to sell this one. Akira Kurosawa.)

That should be enough to get you started! I'll come back every now and then and add to this post as I think of more. If you have access to TCM, Noir Alley is great. I'd also recommend poking through the Criterion Collection if you're wanting more but a little lost. Hope you dig them!

[lost-lonnie]

Secret Santa delivery for @lov3-from-loserlane your blog helped so much 🫶🏾⋆｡°✩

Big thanks to @olnfsecretsanta2024 and @olnfsecretelf for organizing this super fun event

A/n: sorry for the late ass post I was so busy today and with all the different time zones I got lost and forgot pls forgive me 😵‍💫. I hope I portrayed the two characters accurately and I apologize if it seems OOC! Thank you to both my guitarist friends who helped a lot with guitar scenes. A specific thank you to the friend who came up with the lyrics and melody used for the fanfic, instead of doing their essay (appreciate your sacrifice🫡) . Biggest thank you to @justhallu for being with me the entire time in the process, creating the drawing for the cover image, and spam calling me when I forgot to post this 💀 I really appreciate you 🫶🏾. OKAY IVE YAPPED ENOUGH! PLEASE ENJOY “Caught On Camera” BY YOURS TRULY ͙͘͡★

Step two Luca Montoya x Qiu Lin!

WC: 4.6k

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___________________

8/26/14 17:26 battery: full

“Shit, why isn’t it staying upright?” a voice exclaimed while fidgeting with the lens. As the camera finally became steady, the frame before it came into focus.

Luca was sitting with one leg close to his chest and the other stretched out in front of his grey comforter placed on his bed. He was wearing a black button-up shirt with a long-sleeved white shirt underneath. His jeans were dark navy, acid-washed, paired with a worn pair of red Converse shoes.

“I’m going to write a song today!” he exclaimed while running his hands through his dark charcoal hair.

“I’m not quite sure how exactly this is going to go. I just kinda of woke up and decided I was going to do this. Also, why not film the whole process as well?” Luca said, reaching out toward the camera as a way to explain its presence.

“It’s kind of just like writing a poem? I’ve already written down some common topics most songs are about,” Luca explained while holding up a notebook with his chicken-scratch handwriting on it. “It doesn’t need to rhyme or anything, it just needs to have some sort of rhythm.”

“I think I’ll start with the chords to find that rhythm, and once I get something I like…I’ll then come up with some lyrics to go with it, you know?” he muttered while looking down at the notebook once more before settling it down and reaching for his black Squier guitar.

As Luca strums the guitar, finding the right chords, the sun follows along. Before he realizes it, two hours have passed of finger-picking, jotting down chords, and talking to the camera when he remembers.

“Okay,” Luca groans out with a stretch. “I think I’ve come up with a progression.” He places the guitar on his left leg, tilted upwards toward him, and leans his head down.

Luca places his pointer finger on the first fret of the B string, his middle finger on the second fret of D, and his ring finger on the second fret of the G string. He switches between the chords: C, Em, G, repeating it several times before coming to an end.

He looks up at the camera and gives a full smile, showing his braces. “It’s, uh, really simple, but it’s something! I also tried coming up with lyrics, but…I couldn't come up with anything.” He tilts his head, reaching for the back of his neck, giving the camera a bashful smile.

“But I can come up with lyrics another day, and I’m tired—“ Luca’s eyes abruptly widen. “Oh shit, my History assignment is due tomorrow! I’ve got to finish it!”

In one swift movement, Luca reaches out for the camera, and suddenly, things go black.

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8/29/14 13:48 battery: half

“Why are you recording?” A muffled voice asks. Before the camera is someone whose face is unable to be seen due its angle. Leaning back on the couch, the person is wearing white spotted sweater with black jeans.

“Cause,” Luca’s voice starts from behind the camera as he lifts it up, finally giving a clear view of the person’s face. “I can! Is that a good enough reason for you, Qiu?” He laughs out a response.

Qiu looks at Luca with an annoyed face and rolls their dark brown eyes playfully.

“No, it isn’t. Are you going to film the movie we’re going to watch?” Qiu leans forward reaching for something that’s not in frame. “Cause I’m pretty sure that’s illegal to do!” They suddenly flick their hand at the camera, releasing a few pieces of popcorn towards the camera.

“HEY!!” Luca exclaimed, laughing behind the camera as he dodged the makeshift ammo Qiu made, still getting hit by some pieces. “So not cool or fair! I’m holding my camera, I can’t defend myself properly!”

“Yeah? Sounds like a personal problem to me!” Qiu declared, grabbing the bowl with one hand and throwing popcorn with the other.

“STOP! STOP! STOPP!” Luca shrieks out laughing, falling on his back on the couch, causing an earthquake for the camera. “You’re gonna waste all the popcorn! What did the popcorn ever do to you?”

Qiu suddenly comes to halt, hearing Luca’s pleas on behalf of the popcorn. “You’re right. The popcorn's life shouldn’t be wasted on an idiot like you.” They chuckle out while getting back to how they were originally sitting settling the popcorn bucket in their lap.

Luca let out a relieved sigh “Thank god, I thought you were going to empty the bowl onto me.” He leans up slightly, settling the camera on the table fitting both of them in the frame.

Qiu pops a few pieces in their mouth and snickers at his comment. Luca brushes stray pieces of popcorn off of his black sweater, onto his lap and places them back into the bowl.

“Hey, what’s that notebook for?” Qiu asked, using their head to point at the table where the camera was on.

“Hm?” Luca pulls a kennel out of his hair, turning his eyes to where Qiu had pointed towards. “Oh, that’s the notebook I used to write down the chords of the song I’m working on.”

“Song?”

“Yeah! On my guitar I got a few weeks ago? I’m writing a song on it.”

“Oh? How is that going?” They tilt their head.

“I finished the melody. It took me around three hours to do, but I wasn’t able to come up with any lyrics to go with it. So, I’m kinda gonna come up with the lyrics as time goes on, you know?”

“Can I hear what you have so far?”

“Yeah! Let me just get my guitar and clean my hands real quick.”

“M’kay.”

Luca comes back into frame, guitar in hand. He sits on the left of Qiu and props his guitar up on his left leg, adjusting the amp cord.

“Is it hard playing the guitar?” Qiu asked, looking at Luca curiously.

“Mmm,” Luca mumbled, fiddling with the tune heads now. “It’s not necessarily hard, but, like with any instrument, it’s new and unfamiliar. Once you start getting familiar with it the easier it becomes.”

Luca looks up at Qiu’s face with a mischievous look and they return with a wary one. “Here,” he nudged the guitar towards them “Try it!”

Qiu’s curious expression turned into a surprised one.

“What? I don’t even know the first thing about a guitar,” Qiu countered.

“You don’t need to!” He countered, grabbing the bowl from their lap and placing it on the table. “Here,” Luca moved the guitar towards Qiu’s lap. “Cross your legs and hold it.”

Following Luca’s words, Qiu tenses and crosses their legs and takes hold of the guitar. “Am I even holding this right?” Qiu questions, looking down at the instrument.

“Yeah! Here just put your thumb against the neck of the guitar and you’ve got it.” Luca says while reaching toward Qiu’s thumb and placing it in the right spot.

“Okay,” Qiu says, still looking down at the guitar. what do I do now?”

“You wanna learn the song I came up with?”

“Yeah.” They said, while nodding.

“Okay, move your hand to the very top of the guitar and put your finger on the 5th string.”

“Like this?”

“No, like,” Luca drapes an arm around Qiu, bringing them both closer. He gently places his hand over theirs and moves it to the correct place.

“Like this, and put your middle finger on the third string, ring on fourth, and strum. Yeah, you got it!” He softly cheered, being close to Qiu’s ear.

Qiu smiles and lets out a small hum noise in response. “Okay, what do I do now?”

“Now play a C chord”

“C what?”

“A C chord.” Luca giggled out, “It’s fine! I’ll teach you”

With his hand still on Qiu’s, he places their hand in the right spot. They continue on playing the notes: Am, C, Em, G. Before they come to an end.

“You did it!”

“Yeah, it wasn’t as hard as I thought!” Qiu admits.

“Really?” He inquires.

Luca looks up at the same time as Qiu and their noses brush together. Luca hadn’t realized just how close he was to Qiu, while teaching them the instrument.

“Oh, um,” Luca stutters and stumbles away from Qiu to the far end of the couch.

“Are you-?”

Luca cuts them off “Yeah, yeah, I just, umm,” his hands fleeting for his neck. He can feel his face burning. Qiu’s expression is mixed with worry and confusion. “You wanna watch the movie now?”

“S-sure, I guess?” Qiu awkwardly hands the guitar back to him.

Luca grabs his guitar and reaches for the camera to turn it off.

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___________________

8/31/14 13:41 battery: full

“My feet feel like they’re getting amputated,” Luca groans in agony, standing in front of the camera in a place that looks similar to a gym. “And it’s cold!”

“Pfft, if you think this is bad, you should try dancing pointe!” Qiu chimed in, stepping out from behind Luca.

“How am I gonna skate in this?” Luca whined.

“I think the real question is how you’re going to skate holding that camera,” Qiu corrected.

“I’ll find a way!” Luca declared, grabbing the camera off the shelf where it was propped and shakily turning it toward Qiu, who stood perfectly straight, smirking without a problem, with their hands folded. They were wearing a dark navy checkered jacket that hid their small figure and dark jeans. “Like this,” Luca said.

While his words seemed convincing, it wasn’t too convincing to Qiu. Qiu soon took hold of the camera and held it towards the ground, showing off their bright blue ice skates.

“I think it would be better if you sat this one out and filmed later, Bambi,” Qiu teased.

“Yeah, I like that idea,” Luca admitted, letting out a laugh. “Just close it, it’ll turn off.”

“Kay,” Qiu’s voice muffled slightly before everything went black.

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****************************

8/31/14 15:21 Battery: Full

It took a second for the camera to adjust to the warm bright lights where it was placed, but soon became clear. The camera was on a table between Luca and Qiu, who were sitting across from each other. The table had two drinks and a single plate with a medium-sized funnel cake on it.

“My legs hurt so bad!” Luca said, dramatically throwing back his head and sliding down into the booth.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to copy my spins,” Qiu snickered, ripping a piece of the funnel cake off.

“You looked so graceful while doing it! You can’t blame me for trying,” he said, looking back down at Qiu.

“I’m not over the face you made when you fell,” Qiu began, trying to stifle their laughter with their hand. “It’s like you saw your life flash before your eyes!” They laughed out, unable to hold it in any longer.

“That’s because it did! I swear there was something wrong with my skates!” Luca attested, laughing.

“Or maybe you’re just ass at skating.” Qiu smirked at him.

Luca dramatically throws his hands on his heart, making a pained expression. “Your words can hurt a person, Qiu.”

“You’re so dramatic.” Qiu rolled their eyes, reaching for another piece of funnel cake.

“Hey! Save some for the rest of us!”

“I haven’t even had a lot!”

“You’ve had several pieces! I’ve only gotten one!” He complained before tearing a chunk out of the funnel cake and eating it.

“Dramatic,” Qiu scoffed at Luca’s antics. Luca only chuckled at Qiu’s reaction to him.

“You have powder all over your face,” Qiu told him, looking back at him.

“What?” Luca wipes his face, trying to get the powder off. “Did I get it off?”

“No, over here,” Qiu said, pointing to the left side of their face.

“Now?”

“No, like here—let me just—” Qiu quickly turns to their bag and grabs the yellow bandana off the strap. As Qiu leans in to wipe Luca’s face, he quickly moves back into the chair with a shocked expression.

“Oh, I’m sorry—”

“Nono—”

“I should’ve asked—”

“I just wasn’t expecting you to,” Luca says, bashfully gesturing to his face.

“I’m sorry,” Qiu mumbled, awkwardly leaning back in the booth.

“No, you’re fine. I—”

“My mom is here.” Qiu cuts him off, sliding out of the booth, grabbing the shared plate and their drink.

“Oh—” Luca quickly looks over at the camera and slides it over to himself before things suddenly go dark.

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___________________

9/9/14 16:33 battery: Half

“How haven’t you run out of storage on your camera yet?”

“No clue, and I’m not going to question it!”

In the frame of the camera, Luca and Qiu stood several feet apart in Qiu’s living room. It looked like the items usually in the center of the room had been pushed to the side. On closer inspection, both teens were holding something in their hands.

“Do I have to do this?” Qiu groaned, throwing their head back.

“Switch me controllers; I’m going to be player one!” Luca declared, switching the devices in their hands.

“I guess I don’t have a choice,” Qiu muttered defeatedly, glancing at the now switched controller. They turned their head to look at their best friend. “Why are you so far away?”

“It’s ‘Just Dance’! We have to have room to dance,” Luca answered, not taking his eyes off the TV.

“Yeah, but we don’t need to be this far away. You’re probably not even in the frame anymore.”

Qiu made a good point—the few feet they were originally apart had turned into several, and Luca was mere inches away from being out of the camera’s sight.

“I’m still in frame,” Luca replied, sparing a quick glance toward the camera before looking back at the TV. “What song do you wanna do?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll still beat you,” Qiu said smugly, placing their hands on their hips.

“Yeah, right. This time you’re not winning!”

“Didn’t you say that the last two times we played?”

“I let you win those times!” Luca sputtered, looking at them. “This time I’m not going to.”

“Yeah, right. You just can’t accept that I’m a better dancer, Luca,” Qiu teased.

“Really? Just watch—you’re going down today, Qiu,” he declared, facing forward toward the TV. “We’re doing ‘I Kissed a Girl.’ We haven’t done that one yet.”

“Fine by me,” Qiu replied.

With that, Luca pressed start. The fast intro of the song moved along with time and quickly ended as soon as it started.

“What was that about me going down again?” Qiu said, smirking toward Luca.

“It was the first song!” he countered. “Again. Next song, you’re going down.”

And again, and again—another song, another dance. The outcome was always the same: Qiu wins, Luca gives another reason why he lost. It was undeniable that the pair was having fun, dancing to overplayed songs from the previous year. They danced so much that layers of jackets and sweatshirts had to be abandoned to the side as they played into the evening.

“My controller wasn’t registering this time! One more round, I swear I’ll win this time, Qiu,” Luca huffed.

“That’s what you said last time,” Qiu said, pulling their shirt away and back in as a makeshift fan. “We’ve done almost all the songs in the game, and I’m hungry.”

It was clear, even through the frame, that the duo was tired. Qiu was overheated, and Luca was winded. They’d been dancing almost nonstop, taking small breaks between choosing songs. The clock behind them had gone from 16:00 to 18:00 before they realized.

“I swear, it’s the last song! We haven’t done ‘One Thing’ yet! Pleaseeee,” Luca pleaded.

“Fine. One more time,” Qiu gave in, holding up a single finger to emphasize that they were serious. “After that, I’m getting something to eat.”

“Yes!” Luca cheered. “I promise I’ll win this round.”

“Yup, totally,” Qiu agreed, sarcastically rolling their eyes as they tied their hair back with an elastic band.

Luca hit the start on the controller. Both of them got into motion at the same time, giggling nervously as they tried to avoid eye contact while spinning around each other. While Qiu danced with a level of gracefulness, Luca felt his movements were more awkward in comparison. Each time they linked hands or held each other’s waist, it felt fun and overwhelming all at once, like he was drowning in Qiu’s presence. It was different—and somehow similar—to what he’d felt with Tamarack-but that couldn’t be right, could it?

The song came to a dramatic end, snapping Luca out of his thoughts. The ending pose had Luca holding onto Qiu’s shoulder, facing each other, with Qiu’s hand on his arm. When their eyes met, their laughter at themselves couldn’t be contained. They eventually untangled themselves from one another, giving each other a better view of the other. No words were exchanged; they were both in the moment.

While the feeling was thrilling, it was also confounding. Luca had felt something like it before, but… not with someone like Qiu. It was similar to what he felt with Tamarack, but that couldn’t be right, could it?

“I gotta go home!” Luca blurted out.

“What?” Qiu’s smile dropped as they looked confused. “I thought you were staying for dinner tonight?”

“I just remembered I have to do that assignment Mr. Wilson gave us today,” Luca lied.

“He didn’t give us an assignment today,” Qiu said suspiciously.

“I mean, not the one from today,” Luca replied, shaking his head as he tried to sound convincing while walking toward his jacket. “The one from last week! I forgot tomorrow’s the last day to turn it in.”

“Are you just using that as an excuse to leave?”

“No, no! I just, like, remembered I have to do it,” Luca replied, turning to face them.

“You can just tell me if you wanna go home,” Qiu said, folding their arms and looking upset.

“No, I really just need to get the assignment done before he plummets my grade.”

“Fine,” Qiu said, crossing their arms. They weren’t going to make Luca stay if he didn’t want to. Why force him to stay somewhere he clearly didn’t want to be? “You can leave if you want.”

“I’m sorry,” Luca continued walking toward his camera. “I just want to get it done.”

Luca grabbed the camera, flipping it toward the coffee stand it had been resting on near the TV.

“I said it was fine,” Qiu grunted.

Luca’s voice was the last to be heard, a small “okay,” followed by the words “Player one wins” on the TV.

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9/12/14 16:04 battery: full

“Why does this camera never wannato sit up right?” Luca said, exasperated.

Luca was towering over the camera, causing the only thing in view to be his yellow, washed-out button-up. After stabilizing the device, he scooted back, revealing his familiar bedroom. He wore grey jeans and a belt to match his shirt. His guitar was propped up next to him, and he sat in the same spot in front of his bed on the floor, just like he had a few weeks prior.

“I did it, I finished the song,” he said, giving the camera a big toothy grin.

“Well, finished is an overstatement. I’ve only come up with a chorus, but I had nothing before!” he explained, grabbing his black guitar and plugging in the amp cord. “I wrote it late last night. I was having trouble sleeping, and I had nothing better to do. I would have filmed it, but I didn’t want to wake anyone up with the sounds.”

He placed the guitar on his leg to support it. He closed his eyes, put his first three fingers on the strings, and strummed. Though, unlike other times, instead of just the same four chords progressing alone, it was accompanied by lyrics.

‘I'm drowning in your presence, and I'll never get tired.

Dunno about you though,

So I swallow till I choke on the tears that spill,

But I won't let you see,

'Cause I want you to be happy.

I'm the least of your worries.’

He opened his eyes, looked at the camera, and nervously laughed. “The lyrics came naturally to me. Honestly, the reason I was having trouble sleeping last night was because I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened on Tuesday with Qiu. We haven’t spoken much since,” Luca admitted, his face tensed as he looked down. He gripped his guitar tighter and continued.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about the way they looked then and the awkwardness between us now, but the reason I left in such a rush was because I’ve never felt the way I felt with somebody like Qiu.” he breathed out.

“It just confuses me because I’ve only felt this way recently with Qiu, ever since the start of the new school year. I watched back some of my recordings from the start of the year that had Qiu in them over the last few days. When I watched them back, it hit me that the way I felt with Qiu is how I’ve felt with people I’ve had crushes on.” Luca looked at the camera, feeling gutted, finally admitting how he feels. “What does this mean about me, then?” he whispered in a soft voice, barely audible.

“I can’t even tell Qiu how I feel because I’d be risking the entire friendship, and they have bigger problems than me and my dumb feelings,” he loosened his grip on his guitar, looking down.

“The feeling I have with Qiu isn��t bad, but I want things to go back to normal, when things were easier. I’m honestly probably just overthinking my feelings, and in a week, this’ll all blow over,” he rationalized, looking back up at the camera.

“Luca! Time for dinner, come down now!” a loud voice called from off-frame, presumably a parent.

Luca jumped slightly, then looked over his shoulder and called back a response.

“Okay!”

Luca quickly turned back, extending an arm toward the camera.

“I gotta go now!”

With that, the camera’s lens shut.

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___________________

9/17/14 17:014 battery: full

The camera lenses fluttered open to reveal a woodland scene. The warm autumn light danced on the trees, and the crunch of the leaves could be heard. With each new step came a new scene to behold.

“Why are you recording?” The camera turned to face the person who spoke. “We’re not at the creek yet.” Qiu came into the frame with a stoic expression, looking towards the camera. They were wearing a dark brown fleece jacket with skinny black jeans.

“Because the best things are filmed unintentionally.” Luca’s response could be heard from behind the camera.

“Right.” Qiu agreed mindlessly, turning to face forward as they walked with their hands in their pockets.

This was going exactly how Luca had worried it would. Both Luca and Qiu had been assigned partners for the joint English and Biology semester final. It consisted of a two-page research essay and a video that had to be at least 5 minutes long, focusing on a specific type of ecosystem of their choosing.

While Luca felt relieved to finally have a reason to spend time with Qiu, he knew another problem would arise. Ever since he had rushed out of Qiu’s house, things had been undeniably tense and dry between them. Although Luca had tried apologizing afterward, Qiu had sort of just brushed him off with a short reply—just like they were doing now. He’d felt terrible knowing how his actions had caused this rift in their relationship, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

Luca, unsure of what to say, continued filming their walk through the forest, with the leaves crackling beneath their feet. Eventually, they arrived at the creek. The creek was a familiar place for them, having visited it a few times when they were 10. It was on an incline, covered with orange and red leaves. Water flowed down the slope, and many rocks covered in moss surrounded the creek.

The two of them had already discussed who would do what part of the final. While they both had to write their own essays, they would be using the same information they gathered together. Qiu was going to make a list of the organisms and gather notes for a food web and chain, while Luca was going to create a timelapse using his camera and take pictures on his phone for the video.

Luca soon found a tree branch to place the camera on for the timelapse. The camera faced the creek as the pair worked together. As more pictures and notes were taken, the tension between them lessened. Although things weren’t perfect, it was more bearable. Slowly, the shade began to take over the creek, and it was getting time to leave.

Qiu walked over to where Luca was, after sitting their bag down near the camera. He was near the left of the creek, toward the incline.

“What are you doing?” Qiu asked, confused.

Luca, who had been standing normally, was now on his tiptoes on some moss-covered rocks, stretching out as if trying to grab something.

“Snail,” Luca croaked out.

“What?”

“I’m trying to, uh, get this snail so I can take a picture of it, and then we can go,” Luca said between grunts, stretching even further.

“You’re going to end up falling into the creek and busting your head like that,” Qiu said, getting a little closer, worried. “Get down; we can also come back and find another snail.”

“I’m not, ugh, gonna fall in. I can almost grab it!” Luca grumbled, determined.

“Fine, but when you fall in, I’m not helping you get out,” Qiu said, putting their hands in their pockets.

“That’s fine with me, ‘cause it won’t happen. I think I touched it—WOAH!”

Luca’s foot slipped on the rock, and he was sent tumbling toward the creek. His quick reflexes kicked in as his hands latched onto the nearest object, pulling himself up from falling. He didn’t realize what he grabbed wasn’t a branch or a stem until he heard a big splash behind him.

“Qiu!” Luca cried, turning to face the creek. “Are you okay?!”

Qiu was soaked head to toe, sitting waist-deep in the creek, still processing what had just happened.

Luca rushed over to Qiu at the creek’s edge, extending a hand to them. Qiu hesitated, looking at Luca’s hand before a glint appeared in their eye. Using both hands, they grabbed Luca’s arm and pulled him down into the creek with them!

“What the hell?!” Luca exclaimed in shock, wiping water from his eyes.

“That’s what you get for pulling me into the creek!” Qiu said, laughing.

“Qiu, this isn’t funny, we’re both soaked now!” Luca tried to sound serious, but he couldn’t help but giggle a little too.

“Yeah,” Qiu said with a mischievous smile. “How about you get even wetter?” Splashing Luca with their arms.

“HEY!” Luca gasped, covering his face with his arms. “Oh, you’re going to regret that!” Using his legs, he created a bigger splash aimed at Qiu.

As they continued splashing and chasing one another in the creek, with the sun setting, Luca couldn’t help but feel that, no matter what happened between him and Qiu, things were going to be alright.

Post A/N: “I’m probably just overthinking my feeling and in a week this’ll all blow over” I say as the drag me to take my medication.

@lov3-from-loserlane I realized when I was half way done with the fanfic that you never explicitly said Luca likes filming only that he likes films which could mean he just likes watching it. I apologize if I misinterpreted what you mean😭 feel free to Dm if you want! There’s so much lore behind this fanfic if you’d like!