#my auto tags rip

[ellies-enrichment]

immediate post change wow comedy

[diabeticgirl4]

Why am I this way 😭

[diejager]

1: I love your blog so much you are awesome.

2: Can I be added to the cod tag lists?

3: Idea for venom-hunter fic: the boys don’t know venom auto-heals and they watch Hunter get like… shot or sm and freak out and it’s angsty but it’s ok bc they heal right away and it’s fluffy in the end (popped into my head and I wanted to share)

1: Hi Parker! I love you too☺️ 2: I’m sorry I didn’t see this before now, but of course! I added you.

What if Hunter was Venom? Pt.2

Pairing: Monster 141 + Horangi & König x reader

Cw: blood, injury, canon-typical violence, gutting, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 1.3k

Price felt his age catch up to him when he watched an enemy unload his whole mag into your - Venom’s - chest, the dark skin rippling at the surface like water breaking with every drop. He knows that under the surface was your body, hidden under his mass and strength, but Price was still worried. How couldn’t he worry when he kept you so close to his heart?

Even after watching Venom rip apart the men who shot at him - you - spraying their guts around the area, blood painting over the grey asphalt, dripping down from the tip of his claws. Venom was a menace from close up as he was from afar, he could spot anyone from kilometres away as long as he had a clear view, Venom could hear so clearly, his ears much more attuned to your environment and danger.

You could easily be sent out alone in some situations, Venom coming in to help whenever he thought you were in danger, forcefully or not. They could hear the crackle over the coms, Gaz spotting your form jumping from one building to the other, swinging from tree to tree or rushing through the enemy line like a battering ram, something that König was extremely proud of seeing as a battering ram himself.

They learned from you that Venom feared fire, the flames would burn him, disintegrating to ash - it was a painful death - and loud sounds, high-pitched ringing that would make both you and him scream out in pain. Venom wouldn’t die from the loud sound itself, but every moment spent outside a compatible host was a second closer to dying. It was loud and painful, the pitch ringing in your heads until you completely separated, but even then, you’d still hear that incessant sound echoing in your head.

So there wasn’t much to be scared about, worry indeed, but never fear for your life when they had Venom to watch over you, he was fiercely protective of you, so much so that it rivalled their own. Other times, Price would put you in a squad of three or two men, making sure that you wouldn’t be put in a dangerous situation.

It worked for the most part an unknown contractor paid to hunt you down and get Venom to the rich scientist who was obsessed with the alien that he hosted and any other. They were taught the non-lethal way of neutralising Venom, to get both of you back to the labs to study. They would cut you open, probe your insides and possibly break you in ways that scared them, it forced Price to keep you beside Ghost or König at all times, two giant monsters scaring anything and everything around you. It would keep the threats away until they absolutely had to keep you safely hidden.

But it seemed that the PMC had found you before they could do anything, your scream piercing the field, a painful screech following yours. The ringing of what seemed like a high-frequency machine hurt their ears from afar, the painful sound made them curl inward, wincing with a loud pulse in their ears. No wonder Venom was deathly scared of high frequencies, it probably hurt both of you more than them from how close and how strong your hearing was.

Those who were able to, dropped what they were doing to reach you, alarm and fear wracking their minds. Gaz left his perch, flying in the open without any protection, an easy target for any snipers. Soap rushed towards you, hastily transformed with his body still steaming hot, his jaw snapping at everything. Alejandro and Rudy weren’t far behind, the nagual making his own path with Rudy following close behind him. Horangi tore his way beside König, his clothes drowning in blood, their bodies smelling strongly of ichor, a metallic smell. Price had to drop everything he was doing - transferring the encrypted intel from the database to the hard drive - to come to your aid, the only relief he had was the knowledge that Ghost was assigned to your side, your bodyguard.

When they reached you, they saw Ghost trying his best to take down as many people as he could that stood between him and your safety, and you - your situation looked dire - were still screaming, Venom’s black mass being slowly torn from you, throwing you left and right. It was chaotic, watching you sway around, hand clutching your head and face screwed in pain, even he seemed in pain. You and Venom were fundamentally connected, mind and body working as one, your cells sewed to his goop and his strength flowing in your blood.

In a frenzy, they fought to get to you, blood splattered and abdomens gutted, a stinging pain pulsing in their chest that only seemed to grow stronger with every second they heard you wail, choked sobs to cling onto the symbiote who made himself at home inside your body, to hold onto the creature you dubbed your own. Despite the semblance of success, they were panicking, booming orders shot across the field and over the heads of dying men, their shots were hastily landed and randomly aimed as if they were fresh-faced rookies rather than scarred and experienced mercenaries. 

In the chaos of screams and shouts, Soap managed to destroy the machine, taking away the enemy’s only source of protection against Venom, but they couldn’t celebrate just yet, they had to finish this off before another echo was let out. 

“Shoot them now!” 

A booming shot followed closely after the order, a thick accented voice calling for whoever it was to shoot you down before you got away. You flinched back, curling forward in a coughing fit, sickly and wet coughs from your blood-filled lungs. You spat out red, tears rolling down your cheeks as you gasped for a breath, laboured and shallow breathing. You felt like you were drowning, dying by the one thing that kept you warm and alive, the life-giving and oxygen-rich ichor; it clogged up Soap and König’s nose, the retching of their throats and the heaviness in their stomach made them want to vomit, to force out the anxiety and terror in their bodies.

Little One, it was Venom, his voice laced with worry and exhaustion. 

“Please, Venom,” you rasped, blood trickling down your chin as you clutched your open wound, fingers stained as red as your vest and jacket were. 

Everyone watched Venom swallow you, darkness exploding from your back to wrap around you, covering you in layer upon layer of alien mass, forming a protective shield around you. Within seconds, venom came out screeching, large, white eyes squinted accusingly, jaws filled with long, serrated teeth opened threateningly and claw-tipped hands pointed at the ones who made you cry. He thrashed, breaking apart the many groups they formed and cutting through them ruthlessly, deaf to the silent screams and blind to the terror-filled look he received. Venom’s only priority was to exact revenge on the ones who hurt you and protect you. 

He sunk back into you, letting you slump over, falling into Price’s arms, his worried mumbles about your injury and state filled your ears. He shook off your vest and patted you down, searching for the entry wound on your chest, hands moving frantically and ordering the others to hover around you, boxing you in for your own safety. He went on for a few, confusion growing more and more when he couldn’t find the bullet hole. 

“ ‘m fine, Cap’n,” you mumbled, eyes closed as you slumped over him, thrusting him to keep you on your feet even after you slipped away to sleep off your exhaustion. 

“You’re bleeding,” Price hissed, hands grasping your biceps. “Stay awake, love. We can’t have you falling asleep with this.”

“He healed me,” you grumbled, hurrying your head under Price’s chin, nosing at his warm skin for comfort. “Venom.”

He sighed, worry shifting off his shoulders, replacing it with relief. Knees bending, he picked you up, one hand under your knees and the other pressing you to his chest, rumbling with soft purrs to smooth the frown on your face. He nodded at the others, Rudy calling for exfil as they moved, covering you as much as they could at the LZ, waiting for the beating rotors of Nick’s favourite helicopter.

“Let’s go home.”

Tag list: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @ki-cant-spel @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora

[meowsuguru]

toji fushiguro x reader - mechanic au

toji fushiguro x fem reader // mechanic!toji // nsfw

a/n: first fic!! pls enjoy!! any requests my inbox is open :) i need to write more…

——————————————————————————

“what is this, a ‘64?” toji whistles as you nod and hold out your keys to him, your red chevy impala barely having made it to the auto shop. he wipes his hands clean with a rag, and grabs your keys.

“let’s see what’s up with this beaut.”

he turns the ignition and lets it sing, and it runs smoothly for a minute. until it goes dead. no lights, no engine, nothing.

“this has been happening about every two miles or so,” you groan, putting your head in your hands. you were hopeless. given this beautiful car by your father, and you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

“ah, could be the firewall connectors. easy fix, i’ll just have to order the wires. we don’t have that kinda stuff for your beauty in here.” toji relays, lazily leaning up against the side of your car and tossing the keys back to you.

you fumble when you catch them, frowning.

“how long will it take? i don’t exactly have another car i can drive.”

“easy, doll. i can get them by tomorrow. you’ll just have to leave your baby here overnight and i’ll get done first thing tomorrow,” toji says.

“alright, well, how am i supposed to get home?” you say, annoyed.

“i don’t know, doll. call an uber? taxi? you don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.” he gives you a crooked smile, pushing off your car and walking toward you.

an uber. duh. you kick yourself, making this man’s day more difficult just because you’re stressed about your car. you look up at him as he approaches, suddenly noticing the difference in your statures. he looks you up and down, assessing you, and you feel scrutinized under his gaze. you choose to ignore the feeling in your gut as he looks at you, his scarred mouth pulled taught.

“say, doll face.” toji remarks, putting his chin in his hand, and you flush, beyond your comprehension, at the nickname. “i could always give you a ride back to wherever after. wouldn’t be a problem for a pretty girl like yourself.” he says casually, but a hint of a smirk plays on his lips.

you fight the feeling that comes with him calling you a pretty girl and consider him for a moment, knowing this will probably be a bad idea. you sigh, looking up at him.

“why the hell not. but i know where you work if you try anything, mister.” you point at him, expression serious.

toji puts his hands up, backing up slightly as he chuckles. he moves past you, walking back toward the shop.

“hang out in the shop with me. you want a beer?” he asks, turning his head over his shoulder.

you give this a second of consideration before giving in, nodding. he leads you back to the shop, opening a mini fridge full of beer.

“weird shop you’re running.” you say, choosing the one you want.

toji takes it from you with a shrug, popping the cap off with the bottle opener he keeps on a carabiner on his belt loop. of course.

you eye him as he moves throughout the shop, telling you to make yourself comfortable as you sip on your beer and watch him work. your eyes are drawn to his biceps, which are unreal you might add, as he stands below a car on the auto lift and works on something. you watch, mesmerized for a moment, and he looks over, tilting his head over his shoulder, and catches your eye.

and you would be an idiot to ignore the fluttering in your stomach this time. you put the bottle to your lips and chug, ripping your eyes away. you don’t drink much, so you’re a feeling a little hazy from drinking your beer so fast and you start to feel the buzz in your cheeks.

“you good, doll face?” he asks, arms raised as he pauses his work to catch your attention. your eyes rake over his form, thick neck, nice traps, working shirt with an embroidered name tag unbuttoned, with a grease-stained wife beater underneath.

“yeah.” you say after you realize you’ve been staring. “i’m good.”

he looks at you with an unreadable expression and goes back to his work.

-

after a few hours, you find yourself making decent conversation with toji. your banter is present, entertaining you as you watch him work and offer him useless suggestions here and there. he always laughs, the sound filling the shop.

it’s 5 o’clock now and he’s closing up, and you’re waiting in the office. you sit down, fiddling with your hands, and eventually he comes back in.

“ready, doll face?” toji asks, twirling his keys around his finger, his jacket draped over his shoulder.

you nod, standing up and smoothing your skirt.

he eyes you, but turns away to bring you out back to where he’s parked.

“i hope you don’t mind, doll face. i brought my bike today.”

your mouth falls open, looking at the beautiful bike before you. sleek, black and silver, classic and loud as all hell when he cranks it, patting the seat behind him.

“you can wear my helmet. gotta keep that pretty head safe,” he teases, ruffling your hair. you take the helmet, clipping it in place and swing your leg over the seat, hesitantly wrapping your arms around toji’s firm middle.

“you wanna go home? or you wanna go out?” toji asks casually, voice clear and deep over the sound of his bike.

you look up at him and he turns his head back over his shoulder, scarred lip quirking up.

something in you needs to be spontaneous, so you agree.

“let’s go out.”

-

you end up at a little dive bar: pool, booze, bar fights, the works. you walk in with toji in front of you, not offering to hold the door open, rude, you think. you follow him in and he sits down at the bar, making some conversation with the bartender. he orders a drink and looks at you, and you order yourself your drink as well.

“i’m a feminist, doll face. we’re goin’ dutch tonight.” he laughs, throwing some cash down on the bar.

you frown, opening your mouth to retort, but he stops you.

“just messin’ with you, princess.” his lips quirk up, taking a sip of his beer.

the two of you spend the evening drinking and arguing over various things, from your car to your lack of sports knowledge to gambling.

“gambling is a stupid addiction,” you slur, a blush on your cheeks.

“it’s not stupid.”

the two of you stare at each other for a moment in silence. you both laugh, and you find his gaze after a moment, the sounds of the busy dive bar fading into the back of your mind. he smirks, reaching up to cup your chin with his hand. he tilts your head side to side, like he’s examining you.

“say, doll face. wanna get out of here?” toji asks, studying your face with his piercing gaze.

“yeah,” you exhale, and you both stand up. he grabs his jacket, and ushers you out of the bar with his hand on the small of your back.

-

the walk to toji’s apartment is short and quiet, and by the time you get in there he’s got you pinned against the door, kissing down your neck. you thread your fingers into his hair, gasping as he bares his teeth and bites down at the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“been wanting to do this all day, doll.” he says, moving his lips back up toward your ear.

“you’ve been driving me crazy, sitting in my shop in that little skirt. i should’ve given in hours ago,” he groans, clutching at your hips.

you whine, bringing his mouth up to meet yours in a bruising kiss, your mouth opening to his tongue immediately. he wastes no time, pushing his tongue into your mouth with fervor, swallowing your gasps.

you clutch at his hair, pushing against him, attempting to back yourself up off the door. the heat pooling in between your legs wants more and you’re not going to settle for kissing.

“impatient, are we?” he says with a lazy grin, lifting you up easily and bringing you to his room.

you land back on the bed with a soft thud, your hair fanning out around you as toji hovers over you.

“such a pretty girl,” he says, voice dipping low.

he runs his hand up your thigh, slipping under your skirt and playing with the hem of your underwear. he teases, pulling it down slowly, as his eyes trail down your body, drinking you in.

“stop being a tease.” you say, reaching for his wrist.

“ah, but where’s the fun in that? it’s fun to get you all riled up.”

you furrow your brow, trying to wriggle out of your underwear but he stops you, dipping his head between your thighs.

“so feisty.” he says as he mouths over your clothed heat.

“if you’re gonna… do that don’t make me wait.” you say, gasping as his tongue traces circles over your underwear.

“fine, fine. i’ll indulge you, doll face.”

he slips your panties to the side and licks a strip up your folds, making you clutch at his hair instantly. you wrap your legs around his head, and he pries them apart, barring over your waist with his forearm. your cunt is dripping now, with his tongue making circular motions over your clit, steadily, and he’s drinking you up like a man athirst.

you fight against his barring arm and buck your hips to meet his tongue, riding it as you feel yourself growing nearer to your climax, and you bite your lip.

ever perceptive, toji speaks: “let me hear those pretty sounds, doll”, as he comes up for air. diving back in, you give into him, letting go of your abused bottom lip and cursing god, letting toji’s name leave your lips. he smirks, his face shining with your slick, and you moan outright at the sight.

“so good with that mouth, toji,” you say, panting as you ride his face. he removes his arm from your middle and feels his own arousal stirring as you use his tongue, groaning.

your orgasm surprises you, ripping through you as you clutch at toji’s hair, stuttering your hips on his tongue as you ride out your high.

“fuck toji,” you curse, “keep going.”

he obliges, slipping a thick finger into your dripping cunt as he keeps his mouth on you, your head spinning with overstimulation at the sensation. he works you quickly toward your second orgasm, licking and sucking at your swollen clit hungrily. he slips a second finger in, pumping into you steadily.

“gotta get you ready, doll.”

his words light a fire in you and you’re coming, again, more intense than the first as you clench around his fingers. he pulls them out of you, and reaches up, prodding his fingers at your lips. you open your mouth, sucking them clean and tasting yourself as he covers his mouth with his hand, eyes darkening as he watches you.

“fuck, pretty girl. you’re a sexy little thing.”

you moan softly around his fingers, and he sits you up, pulling your shirt over your head and finally, finally pulling off your underwear. he pointedly leaves the skirt in place, pushing it up to expose your dripping cunt.

“think you can take me?” he teases, freeing his cock from his pants and shedding his shirt, leaving him half naked and settled between your legs.

“i know i can.” you say, determined as he slips his cock between your folds, getting himself wet.

he prods at your entrance and you inhale sharply, feeling his tip push into you slowly. he groans as you envelop him, your walls squeezing tight.

“fuck, this pussy was made for me,” he says, bottoming out, buried deep in your cunt.

he sets an easy pace at first, testing your limits to see how you respond to his length and girth, and you’re whining, begging him for more.

“filthy girl. i knew you’d like it rough,” he says as he picks up the pace, fucking you like he means it.

he continues burying himself deep inside you and pulling out, slamming back into you with a brutality that sends you reeling. you’re feeling the coil tighten deep in your gut, and you’re gasping, his hand flying between your thighs to thumb your throbbing clit.

“gonna come…” you pant, tipping your head back into the pillow and clawing down his back.

“c’mon pretty girl. give it to me.” he says, grunting.

youre sent over the edge at that, orgasm tearing through you for a third time that night. you clench around his cock, and he grips your hip tightly, dipping down to put his head in the crook of your neck. he shudders, biting your neck, as he continues to fuck you, albeit erratically.

“fuck, gonna make me come, where do you want it pretty girl?” he groans, breath coming out in ragged huffs.

“don’t care, don’t care,” you cry, cock drunk and fucked stupid.

he groans as he fucks you, biting your shoulder as his hips stutter, hot ropes of his come painting your walls. you gasp, head full of cotton as he stills inside of you, moaning in your ear.

he pulls out, rolling over and flopping onto the bed next to you.

“you need a ride back to the shop tomorrow?” he asks after a beat, allowing you to catch your breath.

“yeah… will my car be ready?” you ask hazily, looking at him as you turn your head.

“shit…” he curses, running a hand over his face.

“i forgot to order the parts. guess you’ll be stuck with me until then, doll.” he gives you a crooked smile and your mouth falls open in shock.

so much for a one-night stand.

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Lapses

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: In the wake of death our minds begin to wander. To better times, to little moments. Reality is so fickle in the minds of the weak. But he's coming back. Eventually.

Tags: No use of Y/N, hurt/no comfort, set mostly during the nine months Reader spent grieving before Billy returned in 'My Ghost,' disassociation, distorted reality, death, references to 'Twin Peaks' (1992).

Previous Works in Series: 'My Ghost' (original) • 'Repentance' (prequel)

Warning: You should at minimum read 'My Ghost' before reading this work in the series first. (For best reading experience, please read both previous works beforehand.)

Notes: :)

-¤°》◇《°¤-

Down comes clumps of wet snow from the grey sky, falling.

                And falling.

                         And falling.

I don't know when I wake up.

The TV has been on for hours. Flashing the same photos.

He smiled at me from across the room.

Don't think. Don't perceive. Don't focus.

"I think you look pretty with your hair like that," I told him. His cheeks are so rosy when he smiles.

Smiled.

Why is he smiling?

Where is that photo even from? Have they contacted me with any new details? Check your email.

"Is the internet working? I can't get this fucking email to go through."

He left on an errand.

"Did the auto-payment go through for the bill?"

He's coming back.

"You didn't tell me that was due, I don't have anything on the account."

He's coming back.

"You don't have anything?"

He's coming back.

"I don't have anything."

What are you supposed to do after a death?

There's no guide. There's no instruction manual. Grieve, move on. That's it. That is all we know. How am I supposed to do the second if the general public disapproves so heavily of the first?

There's a long while I don't even leave my house. I lock the doors, shut the curtains tight and nail them to the walls so he can't leave. Like he's captured in my basement, wilting in the darkness as I try to preserve his voice ringing in my ears like the sirens on the TV I eventually break when I throw the remote at it in a fit of rage and desperation.

"It's a piece of shit anyways," Billy would say when he saw it again. "I always meant to buy us a new one."

First thing I did when I found out was rip open my nightstand drawer. "William, have you ever shot a man?" I ask, bolting upright as I wipe the crust from my eyes.

"What the fuck did you do? What the fuck did you do?" I whispered under my breath. "Where the fuck is the gun?in my nightstand. And if I don't get some sleep soon, I'm going to use it. I haven't before, but I can't imagine it's hard."

I tore the house apart looking for it. He's unwell. Wasn't it just last night he was curled on my bed, so sweet and small as he stared at the wall in front of him?

He didn't feel well. He said his stomach hurts. My stomach hurts. Must have been something he ate, he mentioned a mistake. He wouldn't do this of his own free will, I know him.

He walks through the living room, pulling on a jacket to fight the cold air that seeps through the thin windows.

"Whatcha watching?"

Your report "'Twin Peaks,'" I told him.

"Oh shit, seriously? I haven't seen that since high school," he laugh'sowhodoicallabouttheremains?"

"Apparently they came out with a new season," I said. "Got us a free trial if we wanna watch."

"We gotta start from the beginning. Won't make sense if we don't," he says as he throws himself and one other dead thus far against the couch, almost landing on top of me in his excitement. It makes me scream.

Our first date was a little bit of a mess. I wasn't really expecting to meet someone when I did. But I met him. And he was sweet.

"So he didn't tell you anything about this?"

I've dated. I've seen a few guys. Not to sound easy, it was only a handful. But I'd only dated one other guy seriously. It was high school, lasted all the way through. Didn't end well.

"He was running an errand. He does it all of the time."

Billy picked me up fifteen minutes early. Claimed Google overshot the time estimate to my address, so he left early. Later he admitted it was a lie.

                                   But he's not a liar. Why won't anyone believe me?

"What does he do on the errands?"

"I don't know, get groceries or something. I never asked."

                         I never wanted to know.

Billy hasd this romantic side to him. Oh yes, Mister 'Primps and Primes in Front of The Mirror For an Hour Just To Get Drinks' had a flare for the dramatics. Who would have thought? And he showed up with this grocery store bouquet of lilies and baby's breath mixed with wildflowers from the local park.

"They price the hell out of these things for half the product. Figured I'd give you the proper amount," he said with a wink.

"Did you know he was affiliated with gang activities?"

"No!" Yes. "Of course not!" I helped him pack a bag of coke about a week ago.

Did you know that I love the color blue?

                                                                        No.

Mm hmm. Had it on everything. Even dyed my hair that color in high school.

      You with blue hair? You're full of shit.

No, I'm serious! Hated the bleaching process though. Do you know how bad it looks when you grow out dark hair from neon blue?

                          I imagine It'd look co-

Ld.

                              It's cold.

It's been a week. The police have decided I have nothing to do with this. The town has nothing to do with me.

The house is in shambles. But some things are prestine. Like his ashtray sitting on the kitchen table. I kept the surface clean for him, for when he comes back. A string of photos is on the wall from when we went to the arcade and found a photo booth. Half of them are photos of us just looking at each other. Not kissing. Not smiling. Just looking. He has such gentle eyes, you know? I tried to draw them once. They're really hard. They're just so soft, just the right angle. The skin on his eyes crease so specifically. And if you don't draw them right, it doesn't look like him at all. Told him I was gonna get it perfect eventually.

"I may have to go away for a little bit."

They won't give me anything to bury. They won't let him come home. One time Billy was trapped at a bus station during a snow storm and couldn't come home. He'd been running an errand for a friend. I think I know who that friend is now. Billy could hardly even call on the phone from how bad the storm was. He was so cold. Said he wished I was here. Said how much he misses me. Said there was a rerun of 'Twin Peaks' at the station keeping him company. So I put on the same episode and stared at the TV while I waited for him to regain service and let me know where he was. I told him to give me a call when he could.

I'm at the bottom of his closet. Our closet. I don't know why I'm here.

       When I was a child, I liked small spaces

Yeah?

"This is a hard time. It's only natural that you're grieving," says my mother on the other side of the phone.

A month ago Billy sat across from me, eyes trained on the TV as we smoked our way through season two.

"If I have a psychotic break, would you reenact history for me?" He teased around his joint.

"Why don't you go to church?"

"No one talks to me there. I've tried, momma. They hate me. They keep thinking I was in on it." I helped him pack a bag of coke.

"God won't judge you."

Scientists aren't really sure what happens to your mind when you die.

I've looked it up. Once. Read an article. Well, read is a strong word. More accurately I stared at it on my ancient computer I'd had since college while I disassociated for hours on end trying desperately to concentrate. Maybe it's morbid, but when your soon-to-be husband dies in a fire one is prone to wonder about such a thing.

Recent articles suggest DMT- a psychedelic drug that can occur naturally in plants -can actually be produced by your brain in the final moments of brain activity.

"Do you think there's anything after this?" He'd asked me one time as we layed beneath the stars, sand in our hair from the beach of the lake.

"I think we see what we need so that we'll be content as we drift away."

"Studies of animals undergoing brain death have found that the organ begins to release numerous signaling molecules and creates unusual brainwave patterns to try to resuscitate itself, even as it shuts down external signs of consciousness."

I'm sorry. I can't focus anymore. On anything. I feel like my lungs are being squeezed from bottom to top like a tube of gogurt.

We were hardly paying attention to the show anymore. So smoked out it was hilarious to us, laughing at everything as we focused on nothing except for the feeling of each others skin. My hands on his cheeks, his hands covering mine so soothingly. It was so sweet when he guided me off the floor where I lay. Julee Cruise sang on the old TV. Falling, falling. All I can feel is falling as he guides me into a gentle sway across the old shag carpet lit with the mid-July sunset, holding me like I'll fall far, far away.

"I think I've fallen in love with you," Billy whispered against my ear. His breath is warm.

"Yeah?" I'm too high for this conversation. I didn't even realize how low my tolerance had gotten since the last time I smoked. "You make me feel like I'm in high school again."

We'd danced the whole night. He didn't know hardly any of the songs, causing him to be off beat. I was too drunk to keep time, so I stepped on his leather boots enough times there was a visible scuff on the top of one by the end of the night. I always felt bad, offering to replace or help pay to fix it. He wouldn't let me.

"I could die tomorrow and I'd be happy," Billy confessed in a strained voice, finally letting all of the walls come tumbling down around us to the gentle beat of the song. "I'm so glad I got to meet you."

I was so nervous during our first date that I forgot how to eat hummus properly. It sounds so silly, doesn't it? But there was something about him. He wore this white button up shirt, basic jeans that were tight on his thighs. Not that I was looking. Much. His hair was combed neatly, gelled away from his face in a chic manner. Really, he took the whole thing so seriously he almost looked like some youth pastor they would have shuffled into a room with high schoolers to play a guitar and say 'you know, I was troubled once'  before offering his story of repentance. It was so different from how he usually looked. Was he scared?

But anyways, I was so nervous that when they brought us our tray of hummus and bread to share, I took my little triangle slices and barely dipped them so to not look greedy before shoving the whole piece in my mouth one by one. I didn't even remember I was supposed to tear them apart until a week later. I was just trying to avoid double dipping.

"I think that's the first time I fell in love with you," Billy confessed. I giggle so stupidly, so incredibly high as I float on air.

"Because I was stupid?" I ask.

"Because you were sweet," he said.

There's a long moment of silence, the music swelling and making the cheap TV vibrate from the bass it was unequiped to handle.

"Tell me you'll marry me one day," he whispered.

What do you do with a ring that no one wants you to wear? I'm sorry I couldn't help you.

"Isn't it a little early for that?" I laughed softly.I'm sorry you went out on a romantic whim and borrowed money you shouldn't have for the ring I was too ashamed to wear on the proper finger. "It's only been a year." I don't even think we're dancing anymore. I think I'm sorry you couldn't come back for me.we're just swaying softly to the music flowing around us in a blind stupor, the humidity so suffocating outside that Billy shoved an electric fan in the living room window to try and blow in the cool air earlier that afternoon.

And I'm sorry for hating you when you showed up unannounced at my door.

“It shuts the door to the outside world and takes care of internal business because the house is on fire,”  says biomedical scientist Charlotte Martial of the University of Liège, who studies near-death experiences.

He looks guilty sitting on the bed, watching me fiddle with the small container in front of me.

"You can't bring much," he tells me. There's sadness in his voice, honest and tired. His clothes smell like lavender.

"It's fine," I said.

He simply stares at me, bags heavy under his eyes. He had this spark of life before he returned to me that evening. I'm so glad he's home. Things weren't the same.

"Your hair looks so pretty like that," I said, stepping closer to cup his face in my hands. The contents of my nightstand drawer stabbing the bare skin of my feet as I walk to him. He blushes, looking away in shame.

"You can't ever come back if you leave with me," he says softly.

"I have nothing to return to. Everything is gone," I insisted. But I can see he's having second thoughts, glancing down the hallway. "You can't leave me again."

"What the fuck is that?" I screamed into the phone.

"Baby, I don't know-"

"There is a manhunt for my fucking fiánce who can hardly kill a fucking spider and all you want to say is you don't fucking know?!"

There's an article staring at me. Sent by my mother just a few minutes prior. Billy had been gone for a couple hours after leaving me with a small little keychain on the kitchen table and a soft kiss on my forehead, saying he had some plans for that evening. But he'll be back soon. He wasn't lying.

"I want you to come. But you have to be sure."

His eyes are desperate, staring up at me as I stoke his hair away from his face. His clothes smell like lavender.

They finally sent him home today. Took nine months. First they had to confirm it was his remains. Then I had to decide where I wanted him to go. It's such a hard process trying to get your loved ones back, especially when you were running out of the pills that kept you sane. Kept you wrapped in the thick fog of memories left behind to damn the living in a house that has turned more into a tomb. No sunlight, no visitors. My mother came over to see us once, but the smell was so bad she left soon after. I got a new bottle today. Might as well, after all.

He looks so tired on my bed. Curled in on himself. You could fit him in a box. So small. So tired.

It's so cold.

                  "You know, today would've been our anniversary?"

Zemmar says, because “death is sort of a mystery—we don’t really know what it is.”

I wonder who found me alone in the closet of our room.

                    We were too busy dancing to notice.

▪︎》◇《▪︎

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

Masterlist • Article

[corrodedcoffinfest]

Week One: Masterlist

I'm so happy with the turn out from week one! You all did so great, and I appreciate your participation so much! This week, we covered 6 prompts and there were 59 total entries: 56 Fics Written, 2 Pieces of Art & 1 Other Works submitted.

Color-Coded Ratings Key: General, Teen, Mature, Explicit.

Day One: Firsts

Fic Submissions:

JULY 1: firsts by @the-unforgivenn | Rating: T | WC: 870 | CW: Strong language, Eddie’s eternal insecurities, Gareth’s eternally brash personality | Tags: Corroded Coffin first and seconds by @steddieas-shegoes | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: alcohol mention | Tags: i would die for gareth emerson, i don't think you understand, bisexual king gareth emerson

Scout's Honor by @thisapplepielife | Rating: E | WC: 1000 | CW: Sex Acts, Language | POV: Goodie (Freak) | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Newly Gotten Together Steddie, Semi-Public Sexual Acts, Touch Me While Your Bros Play Grand Theft Auto Super Nintendo, The Boys of Corroded Coffin Are Tired of Eddie's Horny Bullshit Full Throttle by @thisapplepielife | Rating: E | WC: 1000 | CW: Sex Acts, Bit of Exhibitionist Kink, Language | POV: Steve | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Newly Gotten Together Steddie, Semi-Public Sexual Acts, Touch Me While Your Bros Play Grand Theft Auto Super Nintendo, The Boys of Corroded Coffin Are Tired of Eddie's Horny Bullshit

The Guitar by @xzerosparrowx | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: Use of homophobic language/slurs | POV: Eddie | Tags: How Eddie Munson got his first guitar, Wayne Munson is Eddie's Dad, Allen Munson, First Christmas, Christmas special. Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 1 - Firsts by @jo-harrington | Rating: T | WC: 669 | Tags: Friendship, angst, mentions of FOI, Freak #3 is named Dave in my universe. JULY 1: firsts by @blueywrites | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: language, drinking, references to foi Breaking The Law by @dreamwatch | Rating: T | WC: 999 | CW: None | POV: Eddie | Tags: school shenanigans, Eddie is a little shit, first band name + first gig, two for the price of one!

Give It All We've Got (First time getting booed offstage) by @rip-quizilla| Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: None Day 1: Firsts by @munson-blurbs | Rating: G | WC: 883 | CW: brief mention of financial hardships | Tags: Eddie Munson, Wayne Munson, first concert Untitled by @br0ck-eddie | Rating: T | WC: 331 | CW: just a bit of angst with a happy ending

day 01: firsts by @hawkinsmafia | Rating: G | WC: 824 | CW: one use of the f-slur, unsanitary postal practices

Welcome Home by @corroded-hellfire | Rating: G | WC: 731 | CW: None

Corroded Coffin Fest Day One First - Rehearsal by @emesis-nemisis | Rating: T | WC: 998 | CW: Language, fighting, boys being incredibly nerdy, author taking creative liberties and making Eddie a year or two younger for the sake of this making sense (Its their first rehearsal before the Hawkins Middle talent show he gushed to Chrissy about.), Dialogue heavy. Featuring: Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Frankie.

Art Submissions:

Corroded Coffin Fest Day #1: “Firsts” by @luciferssworld | The boys first summer together as high schoolers. Facing the 'freaks' label head-on, but stronger together

Day Two: In the Beginning Fic Submissions:

The Meeting of the Fellowship by @xzerosparrowx | Rating: T | WC: 768 | CW: Fat shaming and bullying. | POV: Gareth | Tags: How the fellowship met, Corroded Coffin in middle school, Eddie's first day at Hawkins, Tommy Hagan is a bully.

and on the first day, god said let them have a drummer by @steddieas-shegoes | Rating: T | WC: 556 | CW: language | Tags: gareth introduction to the band, they are all idiots, that's the common theme with all of these

JULY 2: in the beginning by @the-unforgivenn | Rating: T | WC: 785 | CW: Strong language, allusions to drug use | Tags: Corroded Coffin; Jeff, Eddie Munson, Grant, Gareth and Jay - the first (but not the best) drummer of Corroded Coffin

Bandmates Wanted by @thisapplepielife | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: None | POV: Jeff | Pairing: None | Tags: Forming Corroded Coffin, Meeting Each Other, Shoutout to Mr. Clarke For Supporting Kids and Their Dreams

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 2 - In the Beginning by @jo-harrington | Rating: T | WC: 935 | Tags: Friendship, mentions of FOI, Freak #3 is named Dave in my universe

Four Chords And A Dream by @dreamwatch | Rating: T | WC: 999 | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Tags: Good Uncle Wayne, Eddie's other guitar origin story

Day 2: In the Beginning by @munson-blurbs | Rating: T | WC: 621 | CW: mentioned parental neglect, insecurities related to parenthood | Tags: Eddie Munson, Elizabeth Munson, Al Munson, baby Eddie

Contemplating Coffin by @corroded-hellfire | Rating: T | WC: 731 | CW: Language, weed

Day Three: Best Friends Fic Submissions:

you're my best friend by @steddieas-shegoes | Rating: T | WC: 531 | CW: arguing between friends | Tags: mild angst with a happy ending, side steddie, gareth and eddie are bffs 4 lyf

JULY 3: best friends by @the-unforgivenn | Rating: T | WC: 746 | CW: Strong language, Jeff being a literal angel, Eddie and Gareth being feral goblins | Tags: Corroded Coffin; Jeff, Eddie Munson, Grant, Gareth

Do You Play? by @thisapplepielife | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: Language | POV: Goodie (Freak) | Pairing: None | Tags: Making New Friends, Playing D&D

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 3 - Best Friends by @jo-harrington | Rating: T | WC: 941 | Tags: Friendship, jealousy, tiny bit of angst, mentions of FOI, tiny bit of Jeff backstory, Freak #3 is named Dave in my universe, special appearance of the freshman

To Gareth, From Ronnie by @rip-quizilla | Rating: T | WC: 442 | CW: None | Tags: Ronnie writes a letter to Gareth detailing the truth about being Eddie Munson's best friend.

Day 3: Best Friends by @munson-blurbs | Rating: M | WC: 756 | CW: canon-compliant, bullying, violence | Tags: Eddie Munson, Gareth, Grant, Jeff, Jason Carver, Andy, Patrick McKinney, Lucas Sinclair, Gareth's POV, canon dialogue used throughout

Best Buds by @corroded-hellfire | Rating: G | WC: 893 | CW: Language | Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

day 03 : best friends by @hawkinsmafia | Rating: G | WC: 541 | CW: one use of the f-slur (directed at self) | Pairing: Gareth Emerson x oc Fox Buckley

Day Four: Eddie Fic Submissions:

a goddamn rockstar by @steddieas-shegoes | Rating: T | WC: 912 | CW: language | Tags: side steddie, robin is also here, kinda just feels right to have these 6, new spicy 6 just dropped i guess

JULY 4: eddie by @the-unforgivenn | Rating: M | WC: 712 | CW: Strong language, Upside Down, Kas!Eddie, teeny bit of angst but definitely some comfort at the end.  Also, don’t come at me - I don’t know guitar chords like they do | Tags: Eddie Munson, Gareth Emerson, Jeff, Grant, Vecna, Corroded Coffin

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 4 - Eddie by @jo-harrington | Rating: T | WC: 990 | Tags: A tiny bit of angst, protective Eddie, probably bad representation of playing guitar--I don't know much music lingo

Who's Counting? by @thisapplepielife | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Future Fic, Famous Corroded Coffin, Older Steddie, Exes to Lovers, Let's Try This Again, One More Time

Echoes and Silence, Patience and Grace by @dreamwatch | Rating: T | WC: 997 | CW: mention of abusive parent, mention of death of a parent, language | POV: Eddie | Tags: Angst with a happy ending, rock star Eddie Munson, Introspective Eddie Munson, character study

Untitled by @br0ck-eddie | Rating: T | WC: 469 | CW: some post S4 Pairing: None (maybe steddie if you really squint)

Day 4: Eddie by @munson-blurbs | Rating: T | WC: 619 | CW: bullying, brief violence | Tags: Eddie Munson, Jason Carver, Billy Hargrove, Tommy Hagan, Hawkins High 1985

A Court of Eddie's Reactions by @corroded-hellfire | Rating: G | WC: 994 | CW: Language | Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Other Submissions:

Eddie Munson: Fluff Alphabet by @hawkinsmafia | Other Type: Character Alphabet | Rating: G | CW: two minor, non-graphic mentions of sex; one brief mention of recreational marijuana use | Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader (no assumed gender)

Day Five: On the Road Again Fic Submissions:

On the Road Again - Rockstar!Eddie Munson x GN!reader by @strawberrysodaslut | Rating: G | WC: 700 | Pairing: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x GN!reader | Tags: SFW, fluff, no use of Y/N, established relationship no descriptors for reader, sleep troubles, slight mentions of nausea and vomit as well as mentions of the standard toilet system in tour buses, in my writing world the bunks are big enough to fit you and eddie no matter what!

maybe forever by @steddieas-shegoes | Rating: T | WC: 689 | CW: none | Tags: bisexual gareth, good friend eddie munson, future fic, super famous corroded coffin

JULY 5: on the road again by @the-unforgivenn | Rating: T | WC: 989 | CW: Strong language, mentions of alcohol, poor attempts at witty banter | Tags: Corroded Coffin

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 5 - On the Road Again by @jo-harrington | Rating: T | WC: 993 | Tags: Angst, some swearing, coming of age friendship fluffiness

I'm Done by @thisapplepielife | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: Language, Non-Sexual Biting | POV: Gareth | Pairing: None | Tags: Struggling Corroded Coffin, Van Tour, Fighting, Goodie Likes to Torment Gareth, It's His Favorite Hobby

Untitled by @br0ck-eddie | Rating: T | WC: 325 | CW: None Pairing: None

Day 5: On the Road Again by @munson-blurbs | Rating: T | WC: 835 | CW: slight Eddie x Steve | Pairing: Steddie if you squint | Tags: Eddie Munson, Gareth, Jeff, Grant, Steve Harrington

Get in the Van by @dreamwatch | Rating: T | WC: 999 | CW: chronic pain, language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: None | Tags: band struggles, touring in a van, author is not American, geographic inacuracies (probably)

Goin' Places That I've Never Been by @corroded-hellfire | Rating: G | WC: 994 | CW: None | Pairing: None | Tags: Wayne joins the band on the road for a couple of days

Art Submissions:

Corroded Coffin Fest Day: 5 “On The Road Again” by @luciferssworld | Eddie's wild driving has the band soaring through their tour from small-town gigs to big city stages, they're ready to take on the world.

Day Six: Heard It In a Love Song Fic Submissions:

does he always do this? by @steddieas-shegoes | Rating: M | WC: 995 | CW: mentions of sex | Tags: everyone loves steve, but eddie loves steve like a love song, steddie, corroded coffin friendship

JULY 6: Heard it in a love song by @the-unforgivenn | Rating: T | WC: 314 | CW: Strong language, angst, self-doubt, Grant’s just not sure about much right now | Tags: Grant (Freak)

Love at first sight by @medusapelagia | Rating: T | WC: 997 | CW: None | Pairing: Steve/Eddie

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 6 - Heard It In a Love Song by @jo-harrington | Rating: T | WC: 979 | Pairing: Dave/Tina, briefly alluded Eddie/OC | Tags: Unrequited Feelings, Confessions, Mutual Pining, Song Fic

The First, and the Last by @thisapplepielife | Rating: T | WC: 1000 | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Older Steddie, Everlasting Love, Getting Married

Day 6: Heard It In a Love Song by @munson-blurbs | Rating: T | WC: 615 | CW: unrequited love, angst, fem!Reader | Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader | Tags: Eddie Munson, Reader, Steve Harrington, Corroded Coffin, wedding

Take the Chance by @corroded-hellfire | Rating: G | WC: 994 | CW: None | Pairing: Gareth x Barb | Tags: Gareth is nervous about talking to his crush, so the other guys help him out

July 6th: I heard it in a love song by @lilmissdoomandgloomfics | Rating: T | WC: 921 | CW: None | Pairing: Eddie x Reader | Tags: on a hot summer evening Eddie’s trying to write a softer song for Corroded Coffins upcoming show

Untitled by @br0ck-eddie | Rating: T | WC: 401 | CW: None Pairing: Steddie

Big thank you to everyone who submitted for week one! I hope to see you again for week two! 🦇

[ghost-of-a-dream-girl]

snippet sunday

thank you to @shewhowas39 for the tag last week, I have just gotten around to seeing this!

here is a little snippet from one of my two current WIPs, an Alfira x Lakrissa love story penned by Alfira in diary form, which takes place pre-game (and yes, sorry, in a durge universe)

see below for a little snippet of Chapter 13 (coming soon)

---

Alturiak 16, 1492 DR

I’m shaking so much I can barely pen the words. 

My brain spurts them out in fragments, sentences barely formed, not giving time to construct them into something poetic, or saying that, anything remotely worthy of the page. My hand works faster than it, looping curls of wet ink that swirl and form before my mind has pulled the thoughts to front stage, the scrape of the nib announcing itself before the auto narration of the mind. 

I am not coherent. Perhaps I never shall be again. She has rendered me as such and I guess, dear diary, an unmaking by her hands would be a blessing. I want her delicate fingers to pick me apart at the seams, slide along the stitches, undo me one by one, thread by thread, use her teeth if she must! If she were to break me into my many pieces then I would thank her as she tore off each one, would kiss the nails that rip the skin and the mouth that takes violent bites of flesh and oh how I would worship the tongue that laps the blood as it ebbs from my open neck. That her eyes and hands were upon all my pieces would be enough to quell the pain as would the knowledge that I would be remade whole again beneath her gaze. 

I am spun to madness, diary, and in light of that truth I say this: 

let the madness take every last part of me. 

----

tagging (no pressure) @nyx-knox @marlowethebard @roguishcat

[honeykyeom]

white noise / track 3 (the lost chapter)

by popular demand i’m releasing her out into the wild. no proofreading, no tags, just some formatting to make it easier on you to read. if you wanna see her you’ll see her. feel free to comment and send asks about how i imagined this story ending.. this story was my baby for a time, and i do still hold it near and dear to my heart. but sometimes, to love something you have to set it free <3

Lukewarm air hits your face as you open the doors of the large lecture hall. Almost in a daze, you drag your feet across the concrete, thankful to be out of the chilly building. The bodies around you just blur into one as the post-exam fog begins to clear in your mind. You don’t recognize a single distinguishable feature–despite seeing the same 50 people for the past few weeks. Your state of consciousness is still on auto-pilot, so much so that you don’t register the pair of hands that suddenly pull at your waist, ripping you out of your hazy stupor. You should be scared in this kind of situation.

But these hands have become too familiar now, especially gripping your waist with slight pressure.

Seokmin brings your body close against his, your body heat melding into his when he pulls you in for a kiss. Your mind was already in a trance and his kiss intensifies the dizziness of the world around you. It’s like the world is spinning, but you pay it no mind, smiling into his kiss and getting lost in the dream.

It’s been a couple months since you started this thing with Seokmin. It’s been easy, too easy, to fall into this routine with him, tiptoeing the lines of friendship and much more. It doesn’t help that much of your friendship already blurred the lines, but the sneaking away after classes, him staying at your apartment through the night and the constant friction shared between the two of you made the lines non-existent–neither of you giving a damn.

With every morning you wake up to him, with every moment he’s lost in your body, with every sweet whisper that he moans in your ear with his caramel coated voice, you fall further and further into a dream state. You float higher each day, not ready to come down from the cloud he’s seemed to make with his own two hands for your comfort. It’s soft, peaceful and is made of every thought that’s filled your imagination, keeping you in that dream state as long as you’re with him.

But every dream has to end eventually.

Reluctantly, you pull away from his lips, meeting his face. A smug smile adorns his features, noticing how the lines of lips meet his cheeks and connect to his nose. You’ve become so familiar with these features, but you’re somehow left in awe every time you meet under these new circumstances.

“Hi!” you speak softly, your brows knit together in surprise at his sudden presence. “What are you doing here?”

Seokmin’s face gleams with eternal optimism, a staple of his, but there’s a particular shine to his eyes. They shine as bright as a star in the night sky as he responds, “I just wanted to see you.”

“We see each other almost every day and we’re literally going to meet the others in like 20 minutes.”

“You know what I mean,” his hands never left your body, comfortably slotted in the curves of your waist, so natural, so right. You’re acutely aware of this fact as you stare at his face, a faux annoyance showing in the creases of his face. The banter is quick, simple and suddenly, his fingers burn your skin with his touch as you shy away from his gaze. Leaning away from him and towards the cold brick wall of the Biology building, you peer back at him, cognizant of the façade the two of you were meant to maintain.

“What if someone sees us? I mean, we talked about… being public,” your words trail when you notice the dimples on Seokmin’s face slowly fade back into his face, the corners of his lips trailing downwards.

He remembers the conversation well enough–the memory of that movie night etched into the very makeup of his brain. How could he forget?

If you had told Seokmin that he would be in the position that he’s currently in, he’d think you’re full of shit.

But here he was, sinking into your sectional as you grind on his lap and making his head spin with the ease in which you pull at his roots. Seokmin keeps telling himself it’s a fantasy, one of his many recurring dreams where he’s finally with you, the person he’s been in love with for the past two years. He repeats it like a mantra, to will himself it’s all in his head until it’s something he can no longer deny when a moan leaves your lips, sounding more ethereal than any dream he’s ever had.

Seokmin’s lips slot between yours perfectly, his tongue gracing your bottom lip. Your mewls ring like bells in his ears, sweet and inviting–he can’t help but smile into your kiss. He’s determined to continue hearing your noises, his nerves firing against every logical thought in his brain.

The kitchen counter of your humble apartment is littered with chips, stray alcohol & red solo cups. Neither of you pay it any mind though, too preoccupied with the present moment as Seokmin’s hands graze your lower back and you straddle his hips, your bodies sinking further into the soft fabric of your sectional.

Seokmin’s lips chase yours when you pull away from him, not wanting to lose your warmth. He’s completely dazed as you view him from above, eyes glazed over in lust and desire. You giggle, bringing your hand to his chin and supporting his head to keep his eyes on you.

“Are you still with me, baby?”

He blacks out at the pet name–his brain short-circuiting at the way your breath warms his skin as you speak, only getting enough energy to respond with a soft yes as Seokmin watches you smile at him.

It’s baffling how you have him under your spell and you’re oblivious to that fact.

Seokmin slowly comes down from his high of the past 20 minutes–registering the words that you’re speaking to him.

“We need to talk.”

“About?”

“This…” you take a pause, your thumb caressing the soft skin of his chin as you focus on the oceans of brown in Seokmin’s eyes before you continue. “Us.”

Seokmin quickly sobers up, his hands removing themselves from your waist but laying purchase on your thighs. He tries his hardest to keep his composure–you’ve always been able to read him like a book, better than anyone else in his life. You were able to capture every tell with ease, down to a small eye twitch or throat itch. Knowing this, he finds it hard to believe you’re unaware of his feelings for you–the immediate red shade of his ears appearing when he’s in your presence.

‘Breathe’, he tells himself. He does just that before focusing back to the present moment, with you, instead of stuck in his own thoughts.

“Okay. What about us?”

“We need to establish some ground rules.” You take a quick pause, brief, but enough for Seokmin to notice the small drop of sweat on the tip of your eyebrow. “Just so we’re on the same page.”

“Ok then. Rule number 1?”

“This stays between us. Can’t tell the rest of the group.”

“Ok… Seems fair enough.. Rule 2?”

“No unusual PDA.”

Seokmin retorts with a small pout, “So I can’t hold your hand in public anymore?”

You bring a soft smile to your face, slightly giggling at the sincerity in his tone. Running your hand through his hair, you respond, “No, that’s not what I meant! We just don’t want to give ourselves away. So, hand holding between friends is okay.” Leaning closer to Seokmin, he’s suddenly falling into the swirls of color in your eyes and into a trance when your voice gets quieter as you speak. “But kissing,” you punctuate your statement by connecting your lips to his. Seokmin has to swallow a moan as he gets lost in you, pulling you closer and molding your body to his. His hands come to grasp at each side of your face, gentle yet desperate–to keep you two moving in unison.

His efforts were futile, though, as you pull away from him with a smirk, leaving him with the inability to catch his breath. “Isn’t allowed.”

Seokmin is only left able to stare at you, his hands feeling clammy as they still rest on your face. His thumb brushes across your face, his own body heat making your skin hot to the touch. All he can do is chuckle, shaking his head at the predicament he’s found himself in before he’s looking back at you. “Okay. Fine. Is that it?”

“One last rule. No seeing other people without us talking about it first.”

‘Easy,’ Seokmin thinks, but he still has to play it cool.

Raising his eyebrows, a playful tone enters his voice as Seokmin asks, “So, we’re exclusive fuck buddies now?”

You roll your eyes. “Not exactly. It’s more of a safety thing, you know?”

“Yeah, I’ll pretend that you aren’t just keeping your jealousy in check.”

“Do we have a deal or not, Lee?”

You present your pinky finger in between you, a lighthearted ritual that holds the weight of the future of your relationship with Seokmin. It seems too lax for such a situation, but he knows this is as important to you as it is to him with the small appendage in front of him.

“Fine. Deal.”

You’re brought back to Seokmin’s eyes, bringing you back to Earth and away from the memory of your first “official” night together. The browns in his irises swirl with a stormy air, a million thoughts behind them as he purses his lips.

“Right,” Seokmin concedes, clearing his throat. The weight of his backpack suddenly adding 10 pounds, his shoulders sag and his hands move to his pockets–leaving the ghost of his touch on your waist. “Sorry. I got carried away.”

“It’s okay,” your voice trailing off as you respond. You shiver, the coldness of the breeze chilling you to your bones with the absence of Seokmin’s heat. You focus on the ground, anything to fill this awkward silence and to ignore the thoughts in your mind that run a mile a minute. Something in the back of your brain is itching to make its way out, clawing and screaming for your attention as you push the feelings down further the black hole in your head.

Everything goes quiet when you feel Seokmin’s hands ghost the bottom of your chin, pulling you out of your mind and back to mountains and valleys of the browns in his eyes–soft yet enticing. His voice is low, quiet as if he’s trying to not break glass, when he asks, “I’ll still see you tonight, though… Right?” The corner of his mouth slightly tug at his skin–an easy smile forming and his signature dimples beginning to show underneath his lips ever so slightly.

You match his tone, answering quietly at first, “Yes. Yes, you will.”

You two stay like this, the contact of his hand on your chin alone generating enough heat to feel your inner core bubble up inside. Your eyes dart to his lips, pink and inviting, almost encouraging you to close the gap between you. How easy it would be to lose all inhibition. Who’s really paying attention to just two people on a campus of thousands?

But, you remind yourself that you’re not in the comfort of your apartment. And you’re not quite ready for the reality of the world just yet.

“Umm,” you step away from Seokmin, a smile occupying your face that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, “Should we go meet the others?”

Mingyu picks at the fraying seams of his eggshell colored shoes, the stitching and his fingers slightly stained green from the grass that currently surrounds him. He keeps his chin on his knees, tucked perfectly into his frame as he continues to sit in his anxiety. The world and conversations around him blur, too in his own mind to discern the noise that fills his ears.

He watches an ant stumble upon his left foot. Getting into its mind, Mingyu begins to wonder how it feels to climb a mountain every day–traveling miles and miles just to provide for the greater community. How challenging it must be to be small but powerful.

Mingyu watches as it clings to each twist of his laces, climbing along the fabric. His attention stays focused on the ant, the chatter in his mind growing louder until it can no longer be contained behind a filter.

“Have you guys noticed anything weird?”

What was once a chorus of four distinct voices suddenly becomes the sound of the blowing wind. Mingyu doesn’t look away from the ant on his shoe, but can feel the focus of the pairs of eyes on his profile as his mouth forms a soft pout. He’s deep in thought, that much is clear from their point of view. They’ve taken note of his silence for the past twenty minutes, unaware of the storm brewing in his mind or the reasoning behind it.

Jinsoul is the first to acknowledge him, looking at the others as her voice cuts through the silence with confusion and answers for the group. “What do you mean, Gyu?”

“I mean… Usually the other two are the first ones to anything, either together or separate,” he answers her with no hesitation. He finally looks at the group, careful to not jerk his shoes too much as he speaks. “But isn't it weird that these past couple months they’ve been late to everything?”

Yves sets her phone down into her lap, keeping it tucked between her thighs as she deadpans, “I haven’t noticed that.”

“Yeah well, you don’t notice anything.”

“That’s not true or else I wouldn’t notice the way Seokmin looks like he’s been kicked like a lovesick puppy dog anytime he’s around YN since freshman year.”

“He doesn’t make it hard to notice that. You aren’t special,” Minghao chimes in from his position on Haseul’s lap. Adoration fills his eyes as Yves begrudgingly mocks him, light chuckles filling the air. A small smile is stained on his lips when he looks back at Mingyu.

“What’s your point, Mingyu,” annoyance peaks through in Jinsoul’s tone and seeps into the features on her face. The lines between her eyebrows display the confusion of the thoughts in her mind, not understanding exactly what Mingyu is getting at with his question.

“I guess,” Mingyu pauses, catching the thoughts that run in his mind before he speaks. “I’m just wondering if YN has talked to you about anything. I noticed that something seems off, recently, at least to me.” He catches the blank expressions on his friends' faces, not knowing if he should continue explaining himself–a common occurrence. He knows he’s too attuned to his surroundings, more than most people, that confusion follows him whenever he speaks on his emotions. Sighing, he continues, “All I know, Seokmin has kept to himself even more than normal. He’s never home and when he is, he stays in room. He’s missed our own roommate hangouts multiple times.” He finishes his statement with setting his eyes on Minghao, a wave of understanding hitting him in an instant.

Minghao concedes, recalling the nights Seokmin seemed to be in a rush either in or out of the apartment. “He has been pretty distant lately.” He mutters softly, mostly for himself as he speaks aloud his thoughts. The sound carries through the air though, everyone hearing him as they process their own memories and conclusions.

“They haven’t told me anything, either of them. I’m sure if something was up, they would tell us when they’re ready,” Haseul, the voice of reason, answers his original question. It does nothing to calm the anxiety of Mingyu’s mind, though. Logic has never been the perfect cure to the qualm of his emotions.

“I don’t know. Something’s off,” Mingyu mumbles, a small pout creasing his cheeks as he turns his attention away from the group. He looks down at his shoes, his chin returning to its position on his knees.

“Hey! Sorry we’re late, we met up and got some snacks.”

Mingyu doesn’t look up when he hears the familiar voices of his friends, focusing on the now barren look of his shoes–the ant missing in the blades of grass.

yn: you’re still coming over right?

Seokmin can feel the hum of his phone in his back pocket, hoping the buzzing isn’t too noticeable as he sneaks out of his bedroom. He decides to leave the hallway light off, intending to exit as quietly as possible. Luckily, the blare of the television speakers obscures the tapping of his feet against the linoleum floor.

His heart is pounding, almost beating in sync with the laugh track of the sitcom playing. Seokmin has always been a terrible liar. The way his breath picks up and catches in his throat, the droplets of sweat that multiply as the seconds pass, and his fingers consistently picking at his clothes–the people closest to him could pick up when he was withholding the truth. He’s surprised he’s been able to keep two of his biggest secrets from his best friends.

His biggest secret being helplessly in love with you, that he’s somehow managed to keep from you. The second biggest being the fact that he’s hooking up with you, something that’s becoming increasingly harder to hide from his roommates.

Seokmin sneaks past the loveseat, careful not to alert the figure on the couch. As he looks over, he’s able to see Minghao, his gaze set on the TV in front of him and unaware of his surroundings. The glow of the screen fades onto his features with the blue and whites highlighting the lines on his face. Minghao is dazed, simply shutting his mind off after a day of classes.

Thank god, Seokmin whispers to himself. His shoulders relax into his frame and his chest slows with his breathing, Seokmin standing taller as he continues his trek through his own apartment.

He’s felt like a stranger in his own home recently, his room being the only place of solace besides your apartment. The weight of keeping this secret adds to the lines in his face with the stress growing heavier and heavier every day. If it were up to him, he’d scream it from the rooftops, tell the whole world that the most beautiful person he knows wants to be with him, desires him, even if it’s in such an inconsequential way to you.

Against his own desires, he keeps this to himself all for you as well. Everything is for you.

The dim golden light in the entryway acts as a guide, a light to the pearly gates, to his freedom. As he reaches the door, he can hear the choirs filling his ears, soprano notes blending with symphonies of tenors and bass. Culminating to a crescendo of bliss when he opens the front door, only for the melody to end when he’s met with a broad figure in the door frame. Donning a white cardigan and black beanie, the fabric a stark contrast from his frost-bitten skin, Mingyu stands before Seokmin. He’s breathing heavily, from shock or from running inside to keep warm, Seokmin isn’t sure.

Well, fuck.

“Hey,” Mingyu trails off, eyes somewhat wider than normal. He licks his lips, breaking and peeling ever so slightly from the cold, before he continues. “Where are you headed to?”

Seokmin’s mind runs a mile a minute, searching for any excuse for why he could be going out right now. “Ummm,” he takes a pause. Air catches in his throat, making Seokmin cough when he stutters out, “Just out.” Good job, Seokmin, he thinks to himself. Way to make them not suspicious.

Mingyu’s eyes flash to Minghao on the couch, his arms folding over his chest, almost silently speaking to the other man across the room. When he bites the corner of his lip, his canine catches a peeling piece of skin, slightly pulling as he brings his gaze back to the man in front of him. “Okay,” he speaks slowly but deliberately, treading the topic carefully and thinking over his words. “Well. I was hoping that we could actually hang out tonight? The three of us?” Mingyu brings his mouth inward, forming a thin line when he says, “It’s been awhile…”

Seokmin catches the tinge of pain in his voice, quiet and present in the softness of Mingyu’s eyes. His mouth runs dry, the rough texture of his tongue scratching at the hard palate of his mouth. Seokmin scratches at his jacket and pulls at the cuffs, the fabric stretching and fraying when he does. His mind is still blank as he replies, “I don’t know… I’ve got a lot of homework.” He doesn’t meet Mingyu’s eyes, speaking gently and focusing on his hands.

“Bullshit.” Minghao is standing up from his spot on the couch to join their conversation. He easily strides across the room, standing next to Seokmin. “There’s no way you have that much homework. You’re a theatre major.” He punctuates his statement by folding his arms against his chest, his shoulders perpendicular to his frame and hardening his exterior.

Eyes leaving his own fiddling hands to meet Minghao, Seokmin feels the tension rise as the other man’s brown eyes are cloudy with investigation, boring holes into his skin. Seokmin swallows hard before he responds. “Yeah, I have this… essay,” he stumbles through his words. “About like… the history of Sondheim… or Shakespeare… or something.”

“Okay, what the fuck is up with you?” Mingyu’s voice booms through the apartment, the bass reverberating against Seokmin’s bones. He walks past Seokmin, almost shoulder-checking him in the process. “We don’t see you on campus and we don’t see you here!” There’s fire in his words, the flames singeing the tips of hair on Seokmin’s face. Mingyu stomps across the living room as he speaks and not caring that they will more than likely get a noise complaint for his anger. “You hole up in your room all the damn time and you sneak in and out of the apartment like you’re a teenage boy sneaking out of his parents’ house to hook up with a girl!”

After Mingyu’s voice quiets, the only sound that can be heard is the television behind them filling the air. Seokmin thanks his lucky stars for the television a second time tonight, this time disguising his heavy breathing.

The pressure between Mingyu’s eyebrows loosens as his head clears and he’s finally able to look at Seokmin. His eyes are wide, the whites clearly visible. A deer in the headlights, the blood in Seokmin’s face drain – becoming ghostly pale. The gears begin to turn in Mingyu’s brain, the words that just came out of his mouth sparking the wires of thought in his mind and Seokmin’s demeanor only confirms his rapid firing suspicions.

“Holy shit… You are hooking up with a girl.”

Seokmin stutters, nearly choking from how dry his throat has become in the past few minutes. “Um.. No, I’m not!” He can’t conceal the feign exasperation, his tone two octaves higher than his usual speaking. Seokmin curses to himself, silently swearing how he could’ve gotten away with the lie, if only his body didn’t betray him by exposing his thoughts.

“Dude, you’re sweating buckets at the mere mention of a girl.”

Well, shit, Seokmin thinks.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Minghao re-enters the conversation. His arms stay folded against his chest, his eyes focusing on the details of Seokmin’s behavior as he asks his question.

“What is there to tell?”

“Well, are you on an app or something?”

“Has it been the same person this whole time?”

“Why were you keeping it a secret?”

“What about your crush on yn?” Minghao and Mingyu speak rapidly, parroting each other’s tone with each question and not bothering to wait for Seokmin’s reply. They look delirious, eyes wide, begging for answers.

Seokmin can feel his anxiety rising with each question. He can feel the heat radiating off of his skin, his desire to indulge to his best friends just exactly what he’s been up to these past couple of months. Seokmin is pulled in multiple directions as he stands before them though, your words echoing in his ear.

This stays between us. We can’t tell the rest of the group.

When he answers, Seokmin is slow, tiptoeing through the proverbial minefield. “Umm… Not on any apps, you know how those make me feel.” He quirks his upper lip up in disgust at the simple thought of downloading a dating app, the icky feeling of his past experiences flowing back to his mind. He draws his head down to look at the ground as he recalls the late nights, sneaking away mid study sessionThey never worked; he only tried them to simply bury his feelings for you. Seokmin felt used and was left with the bile taste in his mouth with the thought of using people for his own benefit. He was never able to lose the burning idea of you, if anything, each encounter branded him even more.

“It’s the same person… I met them in class. I didn’t tell you because,” Seokmin pauses before continuing, thinking on his next words, or half-truth, carefully. “I didn’t want it to get back to the others. Especially, yn.” He punctuates his last sentence, emphasizing the weight of his feelings on the matter.

Mingyu, concentrating on Seokmin, is the first to speak. “So you aren’t exactly… over her, are you?” The returning silence is palpable as Seokmin lifts his gaze to look at him. No tears, no sadness, just apathy to a point of hopelessness. Seokmin hides his emotions for you well, not even a frown gracing his features. Mingyu doesn’t know how to respond, deciding to focus his attention on the buttons on Seokmin’s jacket. Some dangle, barely held on by a string. Mingyu remembers when he got that jacket for him. It was a birthday gift 2 years ago, from him and yn.

Maybe that’s why Seokmin wore it any time the temperature dropped below comfortable and maybe that’s why he also never had the heart to replace it despite it’s failing state.

“Well, why do you want to keep it a secret?” Minghao questions. His voice shakes, teetering on what’s appropriate for the situation and what’s truly on his mind. “I mean… It’s not like YN has been shy about who she hooks up with…”

That was until it was him. What’s different with him, Seokmin thinks.

Seokmin responds meekly, ignoring the slight spiteful tone in Minghao’s voice. “I don’t know. I just…” His voice trails off, his brain shutting down with the conflict.

“Look,” Mingyu cuts in, aware of the sunken state Seokmin’s body is in, “If you want us to keep your secret, we will. Easily. But… Can we please hang out tonight?” He pleads with a slight push to Seokmin’s shoulders. The action brings a slight smile to the anxious man’s face, his dimples contrasting the wrinkles indenting his eyes from stress. “Feels weird to not have our roommate time, ya know? Surely, you can reschedule your booty call.”

Seokmin freezes, the nonchalant nature of the phrase catching him off guard and seeding the doubts in his mind. Is that all this was to you too?

“Um, yeah. I’ll, uh. I’ll text them.”

“We also need to hear all about them, for real.”

“Yeah, we definitely need to hear about the person that got your mind off of yn, even for a minute!” Minghao pats Seokmin on the shoulder as he walks back to the living room, Mingyu falling close behind.

Seokmin can only laugh awkwardly, wiping the cold sweat that has begun to damp his palms on his thigh. He doesn’t know how he managed to get out of that relatively unscathed because his chest is on fire as he tries to catch his breath once again. He concentrates on where his feet land, the feeling of the linoleum floor underneath his sneakers. He concentrates on the fabric of his jeans, how it scratches against his skin. He concentrates on all of his external surroundings, anything to ground himself and his mind.

The thing that breaks him is the slight buzz in his back pocket. The world around quiets when he lifts his phone to read his notifications, the boys questions about if Seokmin was still joining blurring into the background.

yn: hey, you okay? on your way? 🙁

this is where it would've devolved into some smut that eventually broke my brain lol. but just wanna say ty all again for everything <3 'preciate every single one of you, especially the ones who stuck it out with me all the way from hotgirlmingyu <3 love ya!

[macabremoons]

OC pic crew tag!

rules: use this pic crew to make your OC's!

thank you to @unmellowyellowfellow for tagging me! I shall be taggingggg mhm @holdmyteaplease, @serenanymph, @wipsbymor, @bluberimufim, and anyone else who wants to join! No pressure, of course.

I went with Modern au to not rip my brains out. Left is Menodora, right is Benjamin. Truly the most autism x adhd couple ever. Benjamin is slightly off but don't come for me it was too hard.

Menodora: Dark academia style, wears clothes that covers a lot, pretty formal all together. She actually has scars under her thingy, but her shirt covers it. She isn't even upset she just doesn't smile on auto unless she wants something HOWEHWIEHOIHOWEI. Fun fact Menodora doesn't smile with teeth a lot, unless of course she thinks it'll benefit her. It's considered aggressive where she grew up.

Benjamin: Pretty boy style. That's the only way I can describe it.

[ghostradiodylan]

9 people to get to know better

Thanks for the tag, @cleucas I did half of this on my phone then got distracted and tumblr ate it so I had to switch to laptop for that sweet, sweet auto-save.

I also have the kind of ADHD/possible AuDHD where any time someone asks me what I like, I forget everything I've ever enjoyed soooo I will probably come up with better answers in a day and frantically edit hahaha help.

1. Three ships: Rylan all day every day right now. Ummm I'm actually not a big 'shipper so when one grabs me it REALLY grabs me! Starting to dip a toe into Steddie from Stranger Things (Steeeeve Harringtonnnn) even though it makes me sad because I don't think they're bringing sweet baby Eddie back, and, uh, three way animated tie between Bee and Deckard from Bee and Puppycat, Bubbline from Adventure Time, and Rose Quartz/Greg Universe from Steven Universe.

Honorable mention to my first doomed ship which was Clark and Lana from Smallville. Just never got on board with Lois.

(I almost put the Nina, the Pinta and the Santa Maria in here because I'm an asshole, but fuck Columbus!)

2. First ever ship: Maybe Sonic the Hedgehog and Amy Rose? He fast! She cannot catch up! Kawaii pathos! (Although I shipped him with Mina the Mongoose in the Archie comics as a kid RIP to those.) Or Meg Murry and Calvin O'Keefe from A Wrinkle in Time.

3. Last song: Bigger Than Love - Oh Wonder (asdlfkjalskdfj)

4. Last film: I watched some awful streaming romcom with my mom the other day and an equally awful Hallmark Christmas movie. Last film I actually enjoyed was probably His House. Scary and devastatingly beautiful!

5. Currently reading: Jane Austen's Emma on audiobook as I fall asleep and my own writing out loud to see if the dialogue is awkward in a bad way or in a good way.

6. Currently watching: Ghosts (UK - I’ve already seen the US one but I like this better so far). Research/I just like ghosts. About to start House of Usher and possibly Scott Pilgrim Takes Off.

7. Currently consuming: one thousand Coke Zeros but only because I'm out of Dr. Pepper Zero my beloved.

8. Currently craving: Dr. Pepper Zero my beloved.

Tagging some people I want to know! No pressure

(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ (I also have not checked to see if y'all have done it already so sorry if it's a duplicate for you - tag me in a comment if you have I’m a nosy an interested bitch.)

@caesurah-tblr @cloudycaffeinatedcryptid @torchmlp @oh-cawsh @smthsmthclouds @insertlovelyperson @qusok @verloutte @pileontheyears @alinathefirst @andromaqves @electricdecades @sargeantsarmy you just popped up and reminded me I meant to tag you too. EVERYONE DO THE THING or don’t it’s whatever.

That's way more than 9. Whatever I have dyscalculia too. I mean, I'm a rebel.

[total-killer-brainrot]

Hey There Stranger

You paused briefly to take another sip of wine, and nearly jumped out of your skin as the radio at your side crackled to life.

“You done already, sugar? I was just starting to enjoy myself…”

---

You use your old CB radio to help blow off some steam.

---

All my fics are also on AO3

Not Beta Read. Rating: Explicit. Length: 1,472. Ship: Rusty Nail x You. Fem!Reader. Tags: Sexism, Bad Work Environment, Voice Kink, Drinking, Drunk Sex, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Humiliation Kink, Praise Kink, Begging, Tattoos

---

Today, like every other day spent in your gruelling, exhausting existence, was awful.

Running an auto shop solo, in the middle of butt fuck nowhere, as a young woman, was possibly the worst choice anyone could ever make. 

Your long days were spent either dying of boredom, baking in the hot sun, or getting cussed out by some uptight city fuck boy who refused to believe that you knew more about cars than him. So few of your customers were decent people. In the last week you could probably count two that didn’t make you want to rip your hair out. 

Right now you were suffering through yet another obnoxious douchebag screaming at you because he was so sure you were overcharging him. You just stood behind the counter and watched him tucker himself out with a blank stare on your face. Too exhausted to even bother blessing him with a reaction. The door dinged behind him as another customer entered. An older guy, trucker by the looks of it. He gave you a short nod then waited behind the asshat still ranting in your face. 

By the time he had reluctantly paid and left you wanted to break something. Instead you forced a smile and greeted your next customer. Expecting another jackass old guy telling you how to do the job you’d be doing since you were young.

“Some people…” he tutted. Tipping his hat lower so you could barely see his face. Just his stubbled chin and the cigarette held between his lips.

You blinked in surprise. Getting empathy from a trucker in these parts was rare indeed. 

“Right? Fuckin’ audacity man…” You shook your head gently as you relaxed. Something about this guy put you at ease. Perhaps it was his voice. So deep it rattled your bones and made your brain buzz pleasantly in your skull. You could listen to him talk all day. 

Unfortunately for you he wasn’t very talkative. Polite, well spoken, but didn’t say a whole lot. Still you were surprisingly entranced by this stranger. Something about him drew you in. You weren’t the most perceptive person but you could just tell there was something unique about this older guy. But to your disappointment, he left with another nod goodbye before you could figure him out. And you were left with the lingering smell of coffee and cigarettes and the image of his smirk under that dirty old hat.

During your long, lonely shift you did allow your mind to wander. It wasn’t often a guy walked in here and caught your eye. And you’d never see him again. So why not indulge in a little harmless fantasy to get you through your boring workday. Was it really unprofessional to get off at work if you had no customers and were your own boss? Perhaps yes. So it all had to be in your head unfortunately.

-

Once home you were exhausted. Emotionally and physically. And you were still pent up and imagining that one unusual customer in all manner of compromising positions during the rest of your work day. 

Your bed creaked as you flopped down heavily, half full glass of wine in your hand, the rest of the bottle in your other. Already a little tipsy from your first glass. And already well into your second. Fully preparing to spend the night enjoying yourself to wind down from another stressful day of work.

When the most delicious idea popped into your head.

In the corner of your bedroom sat an old CB radio. Dusty from years of being forgotten. Despite the machine’s age, you still knew it like the back of your hand. Years of talking to your pa while he was on the road. It took you a minute to set it up at the end of your bed. Heart skipping a beat excitedly as the familiar crackle of the radio coming to life hit your ears. 

You flicked it to an empty channel. As fun as the risk was, you didn’t want anyone to actually hear you. Just the thought that someone might stumble across this channel by chance was enough to make your thighs press together. Just tipsy enough to think this was a good idea.

It didn’t take you long to rid yourself of your remaining clothes. Splayed out across your sheets with the little handheld microphone pressed close to your lips. A delicate sigh escaped you as the tips of your fingers slid through your folds and the tension started to seep out of your body. You let your eyes flutter closed as you allowed your imagination to run wild. It was easy to conjure some make believe man on the other end of the radio. Listening and guiding you along as your fingers pressed down gently on your clit. There was no rush. You could take your time and enjoy the slow build of pleasure. Letting your moans fill the radio channel with no need to quiet yourself. 

You paused briefly to take another sip of wine, and nearly jumped out of your skin as the radio at your side crackled to life. 

“You done already, sugar? I was just starting to enjoy myself…”

You gaped at the little machine. Face turning hot. How long had this rando been listening? Had he heard everything? Was he jerking off right now? And… Why did that voice sound so familiar? You had to slog through your hazy thoughts for the owner of that perfect growl. Then it hit you. The older guy who had come into your work. The whole reason you were doing this to blow off some steam. You sat up slowly. Keeping your eyes on the radio like it would attack if you looked away.

“Can’t be getting all shy on me now… keep going.” 

His voice was firm. No room for argument. And that voice really did something for you. You could practically feel the way you dripped with arousal as his tone lowered in demand. 

With a nervous sigh you tilted your head back. Fingers finding their way back down to your core. For a brief moment you wondered if he could hear the slick noises it made, then you heard him hum happily and your suspicions were confirmed. You bit your lip hard as you slid two fingers inside your cunt easily. Too embarrassed to moan as openly as you had been moments ago.

“You know I wanna hear you, sugar.” He grunted. You let out a weak whimper that he cut off with another groan. He was definitely jerking off as well. The image of that alone made you weak. Those large, tattooed hands gripping his cock. Leant back in his beast of a truck. Perhaps a cigarette between his lips. His hat pulled low so only his salt and pepper stubble was visible. Your mind ran wild and you didn’t notice yourself start to get louder once again until he interrupted your thoughts with a devastatingly hot,

“Good girl.” 

Holy shit. You couldn’t remember a time where you had needed dick as badly as this. You pressed your thumb to your clit once again as your fingers curled inside you. Whining needily into the mic. Barely registering the pleased grumble you got in return.

“Fuck me…” You gasped out. Pleading for him without realising you had even opened your mouth. “Please.” 

He laughed. It was so deep and so damn condescending the humiliation nearly pushed you over the edge. Just barely able to keep your cool.

“Darlin’. I’m not even there.” 

You couldn’t stop the frustrated groan as it crawled up your throat. Turning your head towards the radio as you heard something slick from the other end. Drawn back to that image of him getting off to your moans. Your hips rocked upwards. Chasing the pleasure as it twisted your stomach. Loving that he was enjoying this just as much as you were. 

“Please…” You begged once again. You heard his breath hitch, then a loud rumble. He must have just started his truck. Your heart skipped a beat and you gasped excitedly. Eyes rolling back into your head as you felt your orgasm start to crest.

“Don’t you dare cum till I get there. You gotta wait for my cock, ok baby?”

You froze. Holding your breath as you fought off the pleasure. It was torture to pull your hands away but at this point you would do anything he said. You nodded. And it took you way too long to remember that he couldn’t see you. Yet.

“Yes.” You knew you already sounded like a mess. Breathless and needy. You quickly tacked on the end, in hopes of gaining his favour. “Sir…”

His low chuckle made you squeeze your thighs shut. So fucking desperate.

“Now, where you at, sugar?”

[transgenderdoctorwhomst-old]

Okay saw the Oliver ask about him and roms and no I need my two cents in. Lol

1. Oliver has probably played Kaizo Mario, like the og one.

2. Him making a harder pokemon game makes me think he'd probably be able to beat Kaizo Pokemon Emerald so easily. Lol

3. Your tags. Hello fellow stardew valley modding enthusiast!! If my Mac book could still run steam I'd so be doing that right now, rip my Mac book. It's from 2009! 😭☠️

Also SDV is like the first game I ever modded and it was so easy, now I just have like a mod list I always use. Lol. Also found out you can mod mobile, so cool!! One day I'll play it again. Lol 😁

100%, absolutely. and then made a bunch more for funsies. the fact he's too early for super mario maker is an absolute TRAVESTY.

oliver is accidentally going to invent emerald kaizo like eight years early. unfortunately he's still a year off from playing fire red omega. HOWEVER he is just in time for sacred gold and storm silver! he has not played og hg or ss. he loads storm silver up on an R4 for the Authentic Pokemon Experience

i had no idea you could mod mobile! i also play on steam. I loove SVE and have a few NPC mods. and of course quality of life mods. auto-tool swap and in-game note list my beloved. i think every game should have an in-game note taking system, esp games like stardew valley.

[n-tcat]

-tropic masterlist

Pt: -tropic masterlist /end pt

Under cut because this is ridiculously long, links to the posts aren't included due to the link limit. This is mostly intended for coiners to check if a term already exists, feel free to send an ask if you want a specific term - last updated August 14th, 2024 - tagging @tropicarchive

Absurdly sharp claws

Academic alpha bitch

A dog named cat

A dog named dog

Alas, poor villain

All for nothing

Always murder

Americans are cowboys

Ambiguous innocence

Ambition is evil

And that's terrible

Angelic abomination

Angelic beauty

Apocalypse anarchy

Apocalyptic Log

Ascended glitch

Ascended to carnivorism

Asshole victim

Auto-cannibalism

Ax-crazy

Awesomeness is a force

Badass adorable

Badass longcoat

Bad powers, good people

Battleaxe nurse

Battle Butler

Beauty to beast

Becoming the mask

Beneath the mask

Beware the nice ones

Big bad friend

Big brother bully

Big brother instinct

Big eater

Bitch in sheeps clothing

Border patrol

Bizzare alien sexes

Bizzaro universe

Black bug room

Blatant lies

Boss subtitles

Breath attack

Bunny-ears lawyer

Bury your gays

Butterfly of transformation

Camera fiend

Carnivore confusion

Chain-link fence

Cheery pink

Cherry blossom girl

Childhood friend

Childhood friend romance

Chosen one

Cloudcuckoolander's minder

Cold blooded torture

Companion cube

Control freak

Cooldown hug

Cool mask

Cool shades

Cool teacher

Cruel and unusual death

Cthulhumanoid

Cuckoo nest

Cumbersome claws

Cute little fangs

Cute and psycho

Cute kitten

Cute mute

Cuteness proximity

Ditzy genius

Digital abomination

Dispair event horizon

Dissonant laughter

Dissonant serenity

Dumb blonde

Empty shell

Evil counterpart

Eviler than thou

Evil diva

Evil gloating

Evil is petty

Evil laugh

Evil plan

Face-heel turn

Fallout shelter fail

Fangs are evil

Fashionable asymmetry

Faux affably evil

Flash of pain

Friendly enemy

Four eyes, zero soul

Gas mask mooks

Genki girl

Giggling villain

Girl of my dreams

Girly bruiser

Giving someone the pointer finger

Gun nut

Going for the big scoop

Great white feline

Gun twirling

Hate sink

Holy is not safe

Heart beat-down

Heroic bsod

Humanoid abomination

I am a humanitarian

Icarus illusion

I did what I had to do

If it bleeds, it leads

I just want to be normal

I just want to be special

I lied

Infinite

Immoral journalist

I'm not here to make friends

In love with your carnage

Innocent blue eyes

Intrepid reporter

Invisible to normals

It's all about me

Jade-Colored Glasses

Jerkass

Jerk jock

Just a machine

Kensington Gore

Knight in sour armor

Knight templar big brother

Killer rabbit

Killer robot

Kill tally

Lack of empathy

Laughing mad

Lets meet the meat

Living doll collector

Living emotional crutch

Lonely doll girl

Lonely piano piece

Loss of identity

Loony fan

Love makes you evil

Love makes you crazy

Mad love

Malevolent masked men

Manic Pixie Dream Girl

Medium-shift gag

Monster fangirl

Mentally unwell, special senses

Mirror universe

Monster mouth

More teeth than the osmond family

Multiple-choice past

Mysterious watcher

Murder is the best solution

My god, what have I done

Name that unfolds like lotus blossom

Nightmare fetishist

Nightmare fuel

Nightmare fuel coloring book

Not evil, just misunderstood

Noble demon

Not!

Obviously evil

Outlaw

Outlaw couple

Perky Female Minion

Panthera awesome

Pink heroine

Pocket Dimension

Poorly chosen one

Post apocalyptic gas mask

Pragmatic Pansexuality

Price on their head

Pretty princess powerhouse

Pre-violence laughter

Punished for sympathy

Psychopathic manchild

Purple prose

Put the laughter in slaughter

Psycho pink

Psycho supporter

Quick Draw

Radiation-induced superpowers

Radio voice

Reality warper

Red and black and evil all over

Red right hand

Replacement goldfish

Ridiculously human robot

Ripped from the headlines

Rock me, asmodeus!

Rose-haired sweetie

Scary shiny glasses

Sealed evil in a teddy bear

Shmuck bait

Secret-identity identity

Serious business

Showdown at high noon

Silk hiding steel

Small girl, big gun

Sinister shades

Snow means death

Snow means love

Smug snake

Stalker with a crush

Stepford smiler

Sunglasses at night

Super-fun happy thing of doom

Tarot motifs

Teen idol

The caretaker

The faceless

The gunslinger

"The reason you suck" speech

The stoic

The tragic rose

The voice

Then let me be evil

There is no kill like overkill

Third-person person

Trans Equals Hypersexual

Through the eyes of madness

Tragic ice character

Trashy true crime

Tropical island adventure

Truth in television

Unholy matrimony

*Twang* hello

Uncanny Valley

Undercover as lovers

Unstoppable rage

Uptight loves wild

Villain song

Vile villain, laughable lackey

Villain ball magnet

Villain with good publicity

Wanted poster

Visions of another self

We can rule together

Went crazy when they left

White and red and eerie all over

White mask of doom

Wight in a wedding dress

Wild west

Zen survivor

Zipping up the body bag

[mallowmaenad]

19, 26, 34?

19:A fact about your personality

I have multiple.

26:My biggest pet peeves

Being rude to servers, wasting food, people that project their feelings onto the actions of domesticated animals and babies for fun, when an easily recognizable thing in a foreign piece of media gets localized into something stupid, "cute" animal videos where the animal is being mistreated, exotic pet owners, expensive rice, expensive soda, when tv shows' seasons are spread over multiple streaming services vs. all being on one or more, people that find kate upton attractive, people raising their voices, cars that have the bass turned up so loud you hear the chassis rattling like its going to explode more than you hear the actual music, people that tell you to "just google it", ghosting, people making arguments against nobody because they want to look enlightened, christians acting oppressed, people that hate the homestuck and hlvrai fanbase, people that make fandom their whole personalities, conspicuous consumption, people who talk about firebombing walmarts n shit who have never done anything in their lives to help their communities, when I send something to someone for them to read and they never get around to reading it because they don't have the patience to, overconfident men, when someone eggs me on and on to play a video game so we can play together and then when I start playing it they suddenly don't have any time to play it with me anymore, when settings have lore than make whole swaths of species ontologically evil, people who are picky about grammar and spelling, people who say skyrim is the worst elder scrolls game, having to play tabletop RPGs by "official play" guidelines, delivery fees that don't even go to the delivery driver, people who talk about cool weapons "not being practical", hats with poor craftsmanship, the feel of wearing converse shoes, youtube accent, cis white dudes being at the forefront of progressiveness in pop culture, people assuming you understand whatever references they make to a thing adjacent to something you do know about but personally don't care about, farting in my direction, uncreative misappropriation of the word "golem", wanting to fuck league of legends characters, people that think cat girls are more popular than puppy girls in real life, deodorant, people that get pissy about buying pre-minced garlic, when arizona ice tea is more expensive than 1 dollar a can, mr. beast's face, the term "thicc" and its consequences, people who like fat asses and thick thighs who hate it when girls are fat, when people conflate the dnd class list as having actual ramifications in wider fantasy media, people who think weed is bad, asking for criticism and only receiving complaints, people that say chinese-american or texmex cuisine isnt "authentic", formalities, out of character lewd fanart especially if it's of a strong, dominant woman in a submissive position with toned down muscles, when RPGs butch bait me,

blonde girls with no personality, NHentai's tag search system, mid shounen dominating the western anime scene, when someone says something is "so gay" but its just their fandom headcanons, when one take from a post or article gets so popular when you bring up the thing it's related to people can't not bring it up every time the topic appears, people that try to get the attention of zoo animals, people that own over 700 dollars worth of firearms that aren't collectors like actual collectors not fuckin Clint from the suburbs that feels like a man only cause he owns an AR-15 and a Desert Eagle , lack of cool and edgy plus size character designs, when people call transphobic caricatures "GNC AF", gum immediately losing its flavor, the olive oil industry, when people tell me "just emulate it" or "just pirate it" and roll their eyes when I tell them I'm worried about viruses, games that rip off grand theft auto, when charity bundles on itch.io are 80% unfinished PWYW proof of concept demos put there to get good will advertising, people who are concerned with Wario's honor, lack of plus size yuri, people who turn their noses up to foreign foods, RPGs with character customization that won't let you play as a girl, doing my taxes, when people are coy about details, dudes that want to fuck alstolfo, slowed with reverb remixes, the memeification of phonk, the price of video games, waiting on game downloads after putting the disc into the console, people doing me favors and getting passive-aggressive about it later when I didn't ask for it/tried to ease the burden of it as much as possible, when people ask me what I want on my burger when the menu clearly outlines what toppings the burger is meant to come with, trying to find a tf2 classic server without additional weapon mods that break the game, polo shirts

34:What I find attractive in women

Interesting personality, eager to praise, understanding, warm, enjoys eating, weird, decent fashion sense, messy bedroom/car, doesn't wear any strong artificial scents, progressive stances on neurodivergence and psychology, physically affectionate, has incorporated something like a kind of animal or fantastical concept into their identity, caring, vaguely maternal at times, willing to play video games and watch youtube poops, sense of humor, soft, will do drugs with me in a level-headed manner, likes goofy looking cocktails and desserts, not above eating a 5 dollar hamburger on a date, into fat girls, has a broad definition of what sex is, ideally transgender, nice lap to lay head in, endurance to have 300lbs on top of them for some period of time, willing to buy things for me, kinky in a cringe way, a bit ugly (by society's standards), older than me, into obscure animes and music, appreciates a good cup of coffee, lax style, cringe resistant, quiet, into plushies, total nerd, in terms of appearance I like a very diverse range of those to the point where it doesn't factor in as much but I find conventionally attractive people boring and visible ribs make me feel concerned and uncomfortable

[enchanted--realm]

But It’s An Animal Hospital

Prompt by @jurassicsickfics 1: Intense Isla Nublar/Sorna heat causing nausea. Thanks for keeping the fandom alive!

Tags: Clawen, Sickfic, One Shot, Jurassic world, Pre-Jurassic World (2015), Claire Dearing/Owen Grady, Owen Grady takes care of Claire Dearing, heat exhaustion, pov descriptions of feeling sick

Summary: Claire suffers from mild heat exhaustion and Owen takes care of her, cuteness ensues.  Clawen one shot sickfic.

Content warning, pov descriptions of feeling sick.

Notes: Personally, I'm not a big fan of reading about stomach upset and think it's really gross, so the descriptions of nausea are pretty mild.  No one actually ends up v*miting.  So, sorry if that's your thing??  To each their own though.

Happy Jurassic June everyone!  Clawenafterdark on twitter, shout out to you!

Also, this is the first Clawen fic I've ever written and I've been obsessing over another fandom lately so this may read a little out of character, I'm not really sure.  I tried my best.  Thank you so much for reading! < 3

Keep reading under cut

Link to work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47698048

_________

The sun was beating down on Claire all day, and the humidity felt like it was trying to choke her. It was the hottest day of the year yet, and of course today was the day that Claire's schedule had her running all over the park.

Her usual morning meetings had been replaced by an investors tour which she had been giving around the outdoor paddock of one of their newest attractions. She had answered question after question in the ninety degree heat, trying to look composed while brushing sweat off her brow, and it wasn't even noon then.

She'd known she'd be outside for the majority of the day, and so she had dressed accordingly in her loosest and lightest business attire, but given it was only morning when she started to tire from the heat, she knew she had a brutal day ahead of her.

After the investors tour, which had unfortunately gone overtime, Claire had driven across the park to see about new developments for one of the resorts. Another outdoor meeting. Her car had felt like an oven on the way there with the air conditioning still not working since she kept forgetting to call the auto shop. She had to have all the windows down just so she could breathe. Of course by that time her water had gone warm and did nothing to cool her down.

When she had parked at the resort, she ripped open an instant cooling pack. Over the years of living on the island, she learned to keep them on hand for hot days like this. She hardly had the time to use it though if she wanted to get to her meeting on time, so she had tossed it in the glove compartment after a minute of use.

By the time Claire had gotten back to her car from meeting with the designers she was suffering from a small headache. The meeting had gone well enough, but it was a complete waste of time. All Claire did was nod her head in approval basically. She hated meetings like those. There were a million other things she could have been doing. She supposed the only reason she had been there was to instill fear into the staff and remind them of the standards they had to live up to. They never detoured inside the resort like she had hoped, so that was another sweltering, wasted 40 minutes of her life.

She had looked forward to driving back to her office to enjoy lunch indoors when she had gotten a phone call from one of the directors. There was a major brief happening later that day with Jurassic World's top veterinarian, and one of the directors working on the brief called her to come early, as they were dealing with an emergency that needed her input. She had stayed on the phone with the team as she drove over, and they queued her in on the scenario. She was basically approving the matter over the phone but she still needed to be there in person to see the situation through. By the time their little emergency had been taken care of, it was almost two hours past the matter, and it was now time for the regular scheduled briefing to occur.

This is how Claire found herself now at the main outdoor paddock, standing in the hot sun once again, not having had any break from the heat for the entire five hours she had been at work.

She was hungry, she had a headache, and God it was hot out.

She squinted as she looked around the paddock where herself, the vice president, top directors, the entire veterinarian department, head staff animal handlers, and a few select fellows, were meeting. Zara spotted her near the front of the group and came to stand by her side. Claire smiled at her in greeting and listened as Zara talked about her morning. Claire couldn't remember a word of what her assistant was saying, though. Claire kept zoning in and out of the conversation, tired from the morning she had. Though Claire lived on the island for about a decade now and was used to the Central American heat, she normally spent her work day indoors and wasn't used to spending long hours in the sun like this. It didn't help that she hadn't eaten since breakfast.

Her stomach grumbled a little then, and she tried to ignore the empty concave of her stomach and instead focus on the head veterinarian as he called the briefing to a start.

The brief began outdoors of the paddock, the sun still high in the sky and the heat peaking at the hottest hours of the day. It must have been well over a hundred degrees by now and the humidity was still suffocating. They thankfully moved indoors as they walked through the animal hospital, though the air was stuffy and warm from all the bodies in the room. That's when she noticed Owen Grady in their small crowd. He was standing near a few people she recognized to be animal handlers. He walked with that confident swagger he usually wears, and Claire felt her stomach somersault at the sight of him. She inwardly groaned as the butterflies in her stomach and added flush in her cheeks did nothing to help her feel any better in handling the heat. Her bangs were starting to stick to her forehead. She hoped she didn't look too much of a mess. Immediately, she scolded herself in her thoughts for being worried about what she looked like in front of Owen Grady of all people. She was not going to give that meat-head, scoundrel of a man anymore attention, no matter how handsome he was, nor how his voice dipped when he talked to her. Her stomach flipped again and she cursed in her thoughts. She most certainly did not give any attention to his backside as he followed the group out of the room, most certainly not. She took a deep breath as she followed everyone outside to another paddock. Being one of the last few people to exit the hospital, she ended up standing in the unwanted spot directly in the sun, the rays beating atop her head, most likely making her skin burn as well. She couldn't remember the last time she reapplied her sunblock.

Squinting against the sun, she tried to focus on what the veterinarian was saying but just had to pretend by this point. Gosh, the heat was so strong she was starting to feel lightheaded, she thought. Good thing Zara was taking notes. Claire took another deep breath, resisting the urge to fan herself and willed her mind to stay awake and focused. The briefing was allotted two hours in her calendar. She already felt like they'd been there for five, so it couldn't last much longer. She told herself she just had to keep it together until the meeting was over, and then she could go back to her air conditioned office in peace.

Unconsciously, Claire smacked her lips together, tasting the dryness of her mouth. Her stomach was starting to feel uncomfortably empty, she noticed. If she had some privacy she could let herself falter, she thought, but she couldn't let the staff see her in this state. Sure, Claire was only human like the rest of them, but she didn't want the image of her stumbling away lightheaded living in anyone's mind, especially the staff she commanded. She needed people to respect her.

She swallowed again, her mouth feeling pasty, and then her stomach cramped. She stilled, her breath hitching, until her muscles released and then she took a relieving breath. This could not be happening now, she thought. Perhaps she should find someplace to sit down, but she hesitated at the idea. This briefing was important and she had to be here. Breaking her from her thoughts, she caught some movement in her peripheral vision. Her eyes widened at recognizing Owen Grady standing at her right. She quickly collected her facial expression, hoping he didn't notice her surprise. Was he standing next to her the entire time, she thought? She spared another glimpse his way and tried not to notice the way his hand rested on his hip, or the way his other hand smoothed over his scruff, or how his musky scent drifted over from where he stood. Her cheeks flushed then, and heat swelled through her entire body. A wave of lightheadedness went through her again, and she wasn't sure if she swayed in her footing or if it only felt like she did. She spared a glance at Owen again and he seemed closer to her than before. Did she do that or did he, she wondered. Gosh, her stomach felt awful.

She tested her tongue in her mouth again, detecting a funny taste building up. She had no idea what the head veterinarian was talking about anymore. All she could focus on was the feeling of the sun beating down on her skin, and the beads of sweat trickling down her hairline, making her bangs stick to her forehead. Hot. She felt so hot. She briefly registered Zara's voice and then suddenly a shadow blocked the glaring sun from her eyes. Staring straight ahead, it took her a second to realize Owen Grady stood in her vision. She looked around to see the small crowd dispersing. She hadn't even realized the brief ended.

She heard Owen say her name then, and she turned back to him, finding it difficult to look up into his eyes.

"You okay?" Owen asked. He sounded a little fuzzy in her ears, though she recognized the concern in his voice even if she couldn't see his face.

Another wave of lightheadedness made her delay in response. "Fine," was all she was able to breathe out. Without thinking, she lifted her hand to hold onto his arm to steady herself and started to step towards the animal hospital. Her head instantly felt like it was trying to float away as she walked too quickly. Owen's hand pressed hot to her back, keeping her balanced.

He said something she didn't register and she found it comforting, but at the same time his warm breath was on the skin of her cheek and it made her stomach coil even more than it already was.

She didn't realize he was guiding her inside the animal hospital until the door closed behind them.

"The heat," she managed to breath out as she followed him to where she knew there was a private break room. Owen walked them too fast for her liking, though she knew they were walking slowly anyhow, and she feared she would faint on the way there, tightening her grip on his hand that she was apparently holding. The moment Owen opened the door to the small break room the cold air hit her face and she felt instant relief. She stepped through the door and breathed in the cold like she was gulping down ice water. She stumbled immediately into a chair at the small round table in the center of the room and rested her head in her hands, closing her eyes. One of her hands quickly moved to her stomach when she felt it tighten with another wave of nausea. She couldn't help the small cry that escaped her lips at the feeling.

"Claire." Owen pushed her hair out of her face. His strong voice helped her focus her mind.

"I'm okay. I'm okay," she panted, squeezing her eyes shut. She felt Owen brush her hair once more before leaving her side and heard him rumbling through the cabinets of the kitchenette. Claire continued to breathe in the cool air and felt her head steady to a slightly less floating sensation.  It calmed her down a little and her heartbeat started to regulate.

"Drink this." She heard Owen's rough voice and then something thumped onto the table. She blinked her eyes open to half-lidded and saw an opened bottle of water in front of her.

She just stared at it for a moment, not having the strength to move right away. Then she lifted the hand from her stomach and reached for the water, raising her head just enough so she could take a drink. Owen sat to her right, fumbling with whatever else he brought over to the table, she didn't know what. Her stomach churned as she brought the water closer, but she knew she should at least try to drink something. She brought the bottle to her lips and took the smallest sip. When she swallowed she felt another wave of nausea, and she scrunched her face, turning away and setting the bottle back on the table.

"Try to drink some more," he prompted her softly.

"Mm." She shook head, still scrunching her eyes closed. "Nauseous," she explained, leaning her elbows on the table and resting her head on her hand again. She panted lightly as she gazed mindlessly in front of her, her heartbeat picking up again.

She heard Owen move something plastic around. "Here. This will help," he said.

She gasped as an icy cold sensation landed between her shoulder blades and then quickly relaxed, almost groaning at how pleasurable it felt. A shiver ran through her body and she sighed as she relaxed more, leaning her elbows further and sinking into the table. Her head slid in her hand as she tilted to look sideways, meeting Owen's eyes for the first time since being in the room. She just blinked at him as he stared at her, and then she closed her eyes again, too tired to focus on anything.

She relaxed like that for a minute before she felt Owen moving the ice pack up to the back of her neck. She breathed deeply again in relief.

"How are you feeling?" Owen asked softly.

Claire's head was still floating and her stomach a little sick, but she could feel her mind starting to come back to her at least. She sat up the slightest bit, still propping her head up by her chin.

Claire licked her lip before speaking. "A little better," she admitted, her voice slightly hoarse so she cleared it. She blinked at him, finally able to hold her focus on Owen clearly. His gaze was soft and there was a pretty shine in his eyes, she thought. Her stomach somersaulted for non-sick-related reasons, and she had to break eye contact with him in order to steady herself. She couldn't find the strength to lift her head from her hand, so she held the weight of it as she stared at the first aid kit Owen found, seeing the open wrapper of an instant cooling pack, not unlike one of the ones she used earlier today.  "Mmm...I'm a little lightheaded. And nauseous still," she informed him. She lifted her free hand to grasp at the ice pack Owen held to her neck, and he argued with her not to bother. She grasped around his fingers anyway, noticing how cool his hand felt in comparison to hers, and told him she wanted the pack at her forehead, in which case he gave way and let her move it to where she wanted.

She held the pack against her head, closing her eyes as she absorbed the cold, glad to have the heat disappearing from the palm of her hand as well. It felt like her mind was waking up more with every passing minute, which she was grateful for. She heard Owen shuffle in his seat, then.

"Did you eat today?" His voice was tender still.

"Just breakfast," she responded honestly, and she heard the creak of the chair as he got up and rummaged around the kitchenet.

Her hands finally started feeling a normal temperature as she moved the ice pack to her left hand and leaned her temple into the pack, reveling in the cold soaking straight into her pulse point. She took in another deep breath and opened her eyes. She couldn't see Owen, just the empty chair he sat in before. She looked to her right using just her eyes, too tired to turn her head, and saw the blurry image of Owen in the corner of her vision, standing over the counter.  The refrigerator hummed annoyingly in the background.  She couldn't tell what Owen was doing, but she liked that she got to gaze at him, even in this blurry state. His shape came into focus as she followed him with her eyes as he returned to her. He placed a sports drink on the table, along with an opened box of crackers. She followed a drop of condensation with her eyes as it rolled down the length of the bottle when she heard his voice again.

"I know your stomach isn't feeling well, but you should try to get something in your system," he urged mildly, and she turned her gaze to his face.

His hazel eyes stared back at her, waiting. She inhaled as she looked back to the sports drink. She felt like she was coming back to her senses enough. She could try again at holding down a drink, she thought. Lifting her head from her hand for the first time since she came into the room, she let the ice pack slide from her temple down to her neck and held it there until she had to use both her hands to open the drink. She tried to unscrew the cap but it was sealed tight, and she didn't have the grip strength to try harder. Owen took the bottle immediately from her hands and opened it without effort, before placing it back in front of her and mumbling an apology.

"Thanks." Claire suppressed a smile. Gingerly, she lifted the drink to her lips and paused before taking a sip of the artificially bright yellow liquid. The moment the ice-cold drink filled her mouth her mind instantly woke up, her eyes widening as she pursed her lips at the strong sugary, citrus flavor before gulping it down. She blinked a few times and felt herself straighten up a little in her chair.

"There she is!" Owen's voice boomed throughout the small room and almost made her jump in her seat.

She turned towards him and saw the grin on his face that she knew would be there, the smile reaching his eyes and making them twinkle a certain way that she tried desperately not to find adorable.

She sat still for a moment, gauging the cool feeling in her throat and the way the cold liquid settled in her stomach. Her nausea didn't feel any worse, so she chanced another drink. It felt good.

She slouched in her chair again, resting her head on her hand as she held the ice pack behind her ear and looked at Owen. Her head was no longer floating, instead feeling a little heavy now, like a pressure headache had built up from her brain having melted in the sun. She took another drink, feeling the cold liquid settle in her stomach. She finally processed the whole of what happened here, and suddenly, she felt very intimate with Owen Grady. He was still looking at her with a smile in his eyes, and her heartbeat picked back up.

"You're looking better," he stated. "Your color’s gone back to normal."

She felt herself wanting to hide her face at his notice of her color, instead just faltering her gaze before looking back at him.

"Thank you,” she started, “but you didn't have to do this." Claire felt the urge to deflect his attention, hardly getting out the sentence before Owen started protesting.

"I had to make sure you were okay, Claire," he interrupted her, but she spoke on top of him, saying she would have been fine on her own to which his facial expression immediately objected.

"You were p-practically fainting, Claire. I couldn't ignore that. I had to make sure you were alright." He cut himself off then, and she wondered how strong his worry for her was. She thought his face said it enough, with his intense stare and the way he shook his head like he couldn't think of words to say. She noticed how his chest puffed as he breathed deeply and recalled how sharp his voice was just now. She thought she'd go easy on him and just accept his concern.

"Thank you," she gave honestly. She had to admit, it was sweet of him to stay with her and care for her in the first place. It was nice knowing someone cared. Or at least she let herself be hopeful enough or delusional enough, she wasn't sure which, to think he really cared, not just about the safety of a person, because she knew Owen would help anyone who needed it, but that he cared about her.

"I'm okay, now, Owen. Thank you, honest, but you don't have to stay," she regretted saying the words as soon they came out of her mouth, not wanting him to leave and more than that, seeing the way his eyes shifted away from hers. She didn't want him to think she wanted him to leave so she quickly added, "I mean, you're welcome to stay, but...you don't need to. I don’t want to hold you up." She fisted her hand in her lap. She couldn't understand how she could be commanding a boardroom one minute, and then when it came to this man she could hardly look him in the eye. Her stomach flipped and it made her nausea act up a little, a sour taste coming into her mouth. She cleared her throat and took another sip of the sports drink to bring a pleasant taste back.

"You're not holding me up." A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth, and she was glad to have said something right. His gaze quickly changed as he looked her over. "I'll leave, though, if you want to be alone," he hesitated and started to rise from his seat, and before she knew it she'd blurted out for him to stay.

Owen immediately froze, his mouth slightly ajar.

"Stay," she said again more clearly, processing her words this time. "I want you to...if you want to," she finished, finding it hard to keep eye contact with him. Her heart beat harder, and she felt the repercussions of it in her pounding headache.

Owen relaxed back into his seat, keeping his gaze locked on Claire.

"I want to," he replied softly. She noticed his eyes doing that twinkling thing again, and she had to look away. She scolded herself internally for her weakness.

"Then it’s settled," she ended, composing her thoughts and shifting the pack against her other temple.

Claire's stomach dropped when she saw a cheeky grin spread across his face.

"Never thought I'd live to see the day Claire Dearing admits she wants me around," he said, leaning into her space with his elbows on the table, and she instantly regretted making him feel comfortable in this situation. She ignored the musky scent that filled her space and rolled her eyes halfheartedly, her head feeling funny when her eyes went too far back.

"Don't make me regret asking you to stay," she warned, turning her head away from him and leaning against her other hand. "Can't imagine what would make me ask you to stay in the first place," she continued despite herself. "Oh, yeah, maybe the delusion from having my brain fried in the sun," she finished her statement by giving him a pointed look before turning back around. She closed her eyes, resisting the urge to roll them when she heard him chuckling behind her.

"Yep. You must be feeling better if you're already picking a fight with me," he laughed.

Shifting in her seat, she attempted to kick him under the table.

Owen scoffed.  "Ms. Dearing, that is the most unprofessional behavior I've ever witnessed." Owen faked offense.

"Then good thing no one's here to witness," she replied easily without any strength behind the statement.  She turned back to face front, eyes blinking before falling inevitably closed, her headache still evident.

"I'm afraid I'm gonna have to take this up with the boss," he continued.

She turned to Owen this time and opened her eyes, half-lidded, and smiled slightly.

"Lucky for me, then, I'm the boss." She held his stare and her smile grew when he cracked a toothy grin. Only then did she twist back front to rest.

There was a moment’s pause between them and then Owen spoke up again.

"Is that still cool enough for you?" he asked.

"Mm, 's fine," she hummed and continued resting. She took another drink from the bottle and they sat in silence for a few minutes, Claire dozing off with her eyes closed and Owen just watching her. She felt the table move under her arms and could tell Owen leaned more into the table top. She heard his soft sigh.

"Do you need anything?" Owen asked gently, his voice so deep and so low and so close to her that it did things to her insides.

"Mm, no," Claire hummed in response, blinking her eyes a few times before giving back into her fatigue. "Thank you."

Owen's "OK" in response was so quiet she almost didn't hear it.

She let herself fall back into their comfortable silence, content to relax in his presence.

A couple of minutes had passed when Claire suddenly felt a tickle near her bangs. Her eyelids flinched at the sensation but she never opened them. She figured that was Owen touching her hair. She didn't mind exactly and allowed him to move the invisible strand of hair from her face, sighing lightly at his delicate touch. She wasn't sure what to make of the action or the fact that she let it happen, but it felt nice all the same.

He didn't touch her again after that and sat there with her silently for the next few minutes. After some time, Claire finally started to feel more like herself, her stomach mostly settled, fatigue wearing off, and headache greatly lessened.

She blinked her eyes open, taking a moment to adjust to the light of the room. Lifting her head from her hands, she turned to see Owen sitting up straight.

She supposed she should feel a little embarrassed right now about the whole situation but she didn't.

"You feeling better?" He looked her up and down once.

"Much better, yes." She nodded lightly and slowly made to stand up out of her seat. Owen followed suit and stood tall in front of her.

She tilted her head slightly to meet his eyes. She liked being able to actually look up at his face when she spoke this time.

"I should be getting back to my office," she noted regrettably, and Owen nodded in response.

"Do you need me to drive you back?" he offered, but she assured him she would be fine driving herself.

She didn't want to leave just yet, so she kept talking. "I had been outside all day," she explained, and he looked into her eyes and waited for her to continue. "My meetings had all taken place outside, and then something unexpected came up which distracted me from lunch. Of course all this happened on the day it decided to be over 100 degrees," she finished, looking up at him and he nodded still. She couldn't look away from his stare. His hazel eyes looked brighter than she remembered, maybe from all the sun they've been getting this week.

"I'm just glad you're okay," Owen finally spoke, his voice coming out tight, and suddenly she felt their close proximity, unsure of who even closed the gap between them.

Claire cleared her throat and broke eye contact first, taking a step back. "Well, thank you, Owen." She couldn't possibly call him Mr. Grady like she usually did, not after the way he looked after her just now. She hoped the look in her eye conveyed how much she appreciated his care.

"You're welcome, Claire," he replied softly, and she met his eyes once more before turning to move towards the door. Placing her hand on the knob, she spared him one last glance, keeping the image of him smiling softly at her in her mind as she left the room.  She didn't realize she was holding her breath until she closed the door behind her and let it out.

She managed to get back to her office safely and spent the rest of the day inside, only half paying attention to her work, one, because she was still recovering from heat exhaustion, and two, if she were honest, mainly because she kept remembering Owen Grady. After the way he cared for her and stayed with her it was difficult not to let herself indulge in those thoughts just a little bit. She couldn't get the image of his stare out of her mind and pondered if she should finally give in to the urge to go on a date with him. She let her mind wander in out of those thoughts as she worked and by the end of the day, realized she didn't get nearly as much work done as she should have. If anyone asked she'd blame it on the heat, but she knew to blame it on Owen Grady.

[yardsards]

ppl who auto-copy tags are funny to me (idk if ppl have their blogs deliberately set up to do that automatically or if there are ppl whose tumblrs STILL have that glitch)

bc sometimes it's just categorization tags like book names and characters and that's not bad at all

sometimes it's a tag rant and there's just no indication that those aren't the reblogger's original tags

sometimes it's copying tags like "my art" and "my writing" and it's like ah. accidental identity theft.

sometimes it's copying the op's personal original post tags and it's like "eliot posts" or "sam speaks" and it's like. okay i guess that's technically correct.

big rip to OPs whose original post tags are self deprecating bullshit like "kat talks too much" or "shut up alex" or "leah's stupid nonsense" tho