#note that the tags included on here are tags i use the most often (or are just most relevant to my aus)

[spamsandsuch]

okay since like, Ive gotten a lot of new followers these past couple of months (thanks so much btw!!! Idk why u follow me but I apprecriate it !!) i figured hey! I should make a navigation post for my tags and stuff ! Maybe itll help some users who wanna look at my stuff but dont wanna scroll all the way through my blog, or some other reason ! Either way, ive been meaning to make something like this for awhile now so lets go

Tag navigation:

For my creations or asks:

#my art — this tag includes all (at least, I believe all) of my artwork Ive posted on this blog, if you like my art youll find a lot of it there

#my writing — this is where i post most of my larger writing (whether its my theories, headcanons, or fics). Note that this tag is mostly intended for my lengthier writing and not my shorter headcanon posts, nor is it used for regular text posts

#my comics — this is where is where most of my comics are, or also art posts that include a comic ive made in the same post

#asks — This is where the asks I’ve answered should be. Some asks include art or writing

For my headcanons/aus:

#inl1997 au — This is where I post my more relevant posts for my Deltarune au called “It’s No Longer 1997”. It’s a canon-adjacent au that’s an interpretation of Jevil and Spamton’s backstories, and tries to use canon rules (and extensions/headcanons of them) thats been shown so far in ch. 1 and 2 (I say “try” because Im just one person, so I may occasionally make mistakes). As I continue to study the deltarune lore some information in this au is bound to change as I get different ideas, so some posts in this tag may be outdated; Ive decided to keep them up to show my growth, though. Also, I realize a lot of the post in these tags are art posts — that’s because I personally find it easier to express my ideas through art than writing (I apologize if some posts dont make sense cuz of that). Btw, if you like my spamton angst stuff, this is where most of that should be lol

#afttp au — This is for my other au called “Adds for the Therapeutic,” a post-ch. 2 au about Spamton (or Tonnie, as I sometimes call him) moving in with the addisons in Castle Town (on his own accord) and getting group therapy with them as well as individual therapy. Though it is about Spamton’s recovery, it’s also includes slice-of-life stuff revolving around its new life (tho theres occasionally angst too). If you like my addison stuff, this is also where most of that is

#my headcanons — this is where my deltarune headcanons are, whether theyre written or drawn. Note that a lot of my headcanons relate to both of my aus

For characters:

***Note: this is mostly for characters I post most often. If its any other character, try searching their name (or their name followed by “deltarune”) in the search bar of my blog. If their name doesn’t show up, it means I likely havent drawn or written about them yet (or tumblr is being broken, tho i havent come across a problem like that yet)

#spamtonposting — this includes posts that are mainly about spamton, or include a considerable amount of spamton stuff in it. If youre searching for specific stages of my spamton, then the following are: #spam e. mail (for addispam, though #addison spamton works too), #bigshot spamton, #spamton, and #spamton neo

#addisonposting — same as above, but with my versions of the addisons instead. If youre looking for specific addisons they are: #sam p. ler or #blue addison, #blowse or #orange addison, #percy wade or #pink addison, and #pops or #yellow addison. If youre looking for specific addison ships, I use #spamblue and #pinkyellow

#jevilposting — this is where most of my jevil stuff is, similar to spamton and the adds. If you wanna look for my “pre-corruption” jevil stuff, that would also be under the tag #jokir

#scc posting — this is where most of my posts for Sweet Cap’n Cakes are. As of right now, I dont have specified tags (as in, that end in “—posting”) dedicated for each individual in the trio, though that may change in the future (so again, if youre looking for a specific character in the scc gang, see my note above).

That should be all for now, though I apologize that my blog isnt that organized (as some posts may or may not be missing from certain tags — if I have time in the future ill try to fix that if I can). Hopefully this post will help at least a lil bit :] if I make any changes or add more tags, Ill be sure to update this post. Ill also link this post to my pinned, so it’s easy to access. If you have questions, dont be afraid to ask!!

Last edited: 08/02/2024

[derinwrites]

The Three Commandments

The thing about writing is this: you gotta start in medias res, to hook your readers with action immediately. But readers aren’t invested in people they know nothing about, so start with a framing scene that instead describes the characters and the stakes. But those scenes are boring, so cut straight to the action, after opening with a clever quip, but open in the style of the story, and try not to be too clever in the opener, it looks tacky. One shouldn’t use too many dialogue tags, it’s distracting; but you can use ‘said’ a lot, because ‘said’ is invisible, but don’t use ‘said’ too much because it’s boring and uninformative – make sure to vary your dialogue tags to be as descriptive as possible, except don’t do that because it’s distracting, and instead rely mostly on ‘said’ and only use others when you need them. But don’t use ‘said’ too often; you should avoid dialogue tags as much as you possibly can and indicate speakers through describing their reactions. But don’t do that, it’s distracting.

Having a viewpoint character describe themselves is amateurish, so avoid that. But also be sure to describe your viewpoint character so that the reader can picture them. And include a lot of introspection, so we can see their mindset, but don’t include too much introspection, because it’s boring and takes away from the action and really bogs down the story, but also remember to include plenty of introspection so your character doesn’t feel like a robot. And adverbs are great action descriptors; you should have a lot of them, but don’t use a lot of adverbs; they’re amateurish and bog down the story. And

The reason new writers are bombarded with so much outright contradictory writing advice is that these tips are conditional. It depends on your style, your genre, your audience, your level of skill, and what problems in your writing you’re trying to fix. Which is why, when I’m writing, I tend to focus on what I call my Three Commandments of Writing. These are the overall rules; before accepting any writing advice, I check whether it reinforces one of these rules or not. If not, I ditch it.

1: Thou Shalt Have Something To Say

What’s your book about?

I don’t mean, describe to me the plot. I mean, why should anybody read this? What’s its thesis? What’s its reason for existence, from the reader’s perspective? People write stories for all kinds of reasons, but things like ‘I just wanted to get it out of my head’ are meaningless from a reader perspective. The greatest piece of writing advice I ever received was you putting words on a page does not obligate anybody to read them. So why are the words there? What point are you trying to make?

The purpose of your story can vary wildly. Usually, you’ll be exploring some kind of thesis, especially if you write genre fiction. Curse Words, for example, is an exploration of self-perpetuating power structures and how aiming for short-term stability and safety can cause long-term problems, as well as the responsibilities of an agitator when seeking to do the necessary work of dismantling those power structures. Most of the things in Curse Words eventually fold back into exploring this question. Alternately, you might just have a really cool idea for a society or alien species or something and want to show it off (note: it can be VERY VERY HARD to carry a story on a ‘cool original concept’ by itself. You think your sky society where they fly above the clouds and have no rainfall and have to harvest water from the clouds below is a cool enough idea to carry a story: You’re almost certainly wrong. These cool concept stories work best when they are either very short, or working in conjunction with exploring a theme). You might be writing a mystery series where each story is a standalone mystery and the point is to present a puzzle and solve a fun mystery each book. Maybe you’re just here to make the reader laugh, and will throw in anything you can find that’ll act as framing for better jokes. In some genres, readers know exactly what they want and have gotten it a hundred times before and want that story again but with different character names – maybe you’re writing one of those. (These stories are popular in romance, pulp fantasy, some action genres, and rather a lot of types of fanfiction).

Whatever the main point of your story is, you should know it by the time you finish the first draft, because you simply cannot write the second draft if you don’t know what the point of the story is. (If you write web serials and are publishing the first draft, you’ll need to figure it out a lot faster.)

Once you know what the point of your story is, you can assess all writing decisions through this lens – does this help or hurt the point of my story?

2: Thou Shalt Respect Thy Reader’s Investment

Readers invest a lot in a story. Sometimes it’s money, if they bought your book, but even if your story is free, they invest time, attention, and emotional investment. The vast majority of your job is making that investment worth it. There are two factors to this – lowering the investment, and increasing the payoff. If you can lower your audience’s suspension of disbelief through consistent characterisation, realistic (for your genre – this may deviate from real realism) worldbuilding, and appropriately foreshadowing and forewarning any unexpected rules of your world. You can lower the amount of effort or attention your audience need to put into getting into your story by writing in a clear manner, using an entertaining tone, and relying on cultural touchpoints they understand already instead of pushing them in the deep end into a completely unfamiliar situation. The lower their initial investment, the easier it is to make the payoff worth it.

Two important notes here: one, not all audiences view investment in the same way. Your average reader views time as a major investment, but readers of long fiction (epic fantasies, web serials, et cetera) often view length as part of the payoff. Brandon Sanderson fans don’t grab his latest book and think “Uuuugh, why does it have to be so looong!” Similarly, some people like being thrown in the deep end and having to put a lot of work into figuring out what the fuck is going on with no onboarding. This is one of science fiction’s main tactics for forcibly immersing you in a future world. So the valuation of what counts as too much investment varies drastically between readers.

Two, it’s not always the best idea to minimise the necessary investment at all costs. Generally, engagement with art asks something of us, and that’s part of the appeal. Minimum-effort books do have their appeal and their place, in the same way that idle games or repetitive sitcoms have their appeal and their place, but the memorable stories, the ones that have staying power and provide real value, are the ones that ask something of the reader. If they’re not investing anything, they have no incentive to engage, and you’re just filling in time. This commandment does not exist to tell you to try to ask nothing of your audience – you should be asking something of your audience. It exists to tell you to respect that investment. Know what you’re asking of your audience, and make sure that the ask is less than the payoff.

The other way to respect the investment is of course to focus on a great payoff. Make those characters socially fascinating, make that sacrifice emotionally rending, make the answer to that mystery intellectually fulfilling. If you can make the investment worth it, they’ll enjoy your story. And if you consistently make their investment worth it, you build trust, and they’ll be willing to invest more next time, which means you can ask more of them and give them an even better payoff. Audience trust is a very precious currency and this is how you build it – be worth their time.

But how do you know what your audience does and doesn’t consider an onerous investment? And how do you know what kinds of payoff they’ll find rewarding? Easy – they self-sort. Part of your job is telling your audience what to expect from you as soon as you can, so that if it’s not for them, they’ll leave, and if it is, they’ll invest and appreciate the return. (“Oh but I want as many people reading my story as possible!” No, you don’t. If you want that, you can write paint-by-numbers common denominator mass appeal fic. What you want is the audience who will enjoy your story; everyone else is a waste of time, and is in fact, detrimental to your success, because if they don’t like your story then they’re likely to be bad marketing. You want these people to bounce off and leave before you disappoint them. Don’t try to trick them into staying around.) Your audience should know, very early on, what kind of an experience they’re in for, what the tone will be, the genre and character(s) they’re going to follow, that sort of thing. The first couple of chapters of Time to Orbit: Unknown, for example, are a micro-example of the sorts of mysteries that Aspen will be dealing with for most of the book, as well as a sample of their character voice, the way they approach problems, and enough of their background, world and behaviour for the reader to decide if this sort of story is for them. We also start the story with some mildly graphic medical stuff, enough physics for the reader to determine the ‘hardness’ of the scifi, and about the level of physical risk that Aspen will be putting themselves at for most of the book. This is all important information for a reader to have.

If you are mindful of the investment your readers are making, mindful of the value of the payoff, and honest with them about both from the start so that they can decide whether the story is for them, you can respect their investment and make sure they have a good time.

3: Thou Shalt Not Make Thy World Less Interesting

This one’s really about payoff, but it’s important enough to be its own commandment. It relates primarily to twists, reveals, worldbuilding, and killing off storylines or characters. One mistake that I see new writers make all the time is that they tank the engagement of their story by introducing a cool fun twist that seems so awesome in the moment and then… is a major letdown, because the implications make the world less interesting.

“It was all a dream” twists often fall into this trap. Contrary to popular opinion, I think these twists can be done extremely well. I’ve seen them done extremely well. The vast majority of the time, they’re very bad. They’re bad because they take an interesting world and make it boring. The same is true of poorly thought out, shocking character deaths – when you kill a character, you kill their potential, and if they’re a character worth killing in a high impact way then this is always a huge sacrifice on your part. Is it worth it? Will it make the story more interesting? Similarly, if your bad guy is going to get up and gloat ‘Aha, your quest was all planned by me, I was working in the shadows to get you to acquire the Mystery Object since I could not! You have fallen into my trap! Now give me the Mystery Object!’, is this a more interesting story than if the protagonist’s journey had actually been their own unmanipulated adventure? It makes your bad guy look clever and can be a cool twist, but does it mean that all those times your protagonist escaped the bad guy’s men by the skin of his teeth, he was being allowed to escape? Are they retroactively less interesting now?

Whether these twists work or not will depend on how you’ve constructed the rest of your story. Do they make your world more or less interesting?

If you have the audience’s trust, it’s permissible to make your world temporarily less interesting. You can kill off the cool guy with the awesome plan, or make it so that the Chosen One wasn’t actually the Chosen One, or even have the main character wake up and find out it was all a dream, and let the reader marinate in disappointment for a little while before you pick it up again and turn things around so that actually, that twist does lead to a more interesting story! But you have to pick it up again. Don’t leave them with the version that’s less interesting than the story you tanked for the twist. The general slop of interest must trend upward, and your sacrifices need to all lead into the more interesting world. Otherwise, your readers will be disappointed, and their experience will be tainted.

Whenever I’m looking at a new piece of writing advice, I view it through these three rules. Is this plot still delivering on the book’s purpose, or have I gone off the rails somewhere and just stared writing random stuff? Does making this character ‘more relateable’ help or hinder that goal? Does this argument with the protagonists’ mother tell the reader anything or lead to any useful payoff; is it respectful of their time? Will starting in medias res give the audience an accurate view of the story and help them decide whether to invest? Does this big twist that challenges all the assumptions we’ve made so far imply a world that is more or less interesting than the world previously implied?

Hopefully these can help you, too.

[alfheimr]

My Favorite Cheap Art Trick: Gradient Maps and Blending Modes

i get questions on occasion regarding my coloring process, so i thought i would do a bit of a write up on my "secret technique." i don't think it really is that much of a secret, but i hope it can be helpful to someone. to that end:

this is one of my favorite tags ive ever gotten on my art. i think of it often. the pieces in question are all monochrome - sort of.

the left version is the final version, the right version is technically the original. in the final version, to me, the blues are pretty stark, while the greens and magentas are less so. there is some color theory thing going on here that i dont have a good cerebral understanding of and i wont pretend otherwise. i think i watched a youtube video on it once but it went in one ear and out the other. i just pick whatever colors look nicest based on whatever vibe im going for.

this one is more subtle, i think. can you tell the difference? there's nothing wrong with 100% greyscale art, but i like the depth that adding just a hint of color can bring.

i'll note that the examples i'll be using in this post all began as purely greyscale, but this is a process i use for just about every piece of art i make, including the full color ones. i'll use the recent mithrun art i made to demonstrate. additionally, i use clip studio paint, but the general concept should be transferable to other art programs.

for fun let's just start with Making The Picture. i've been thinking of making this writeup for a while and had it in mind while drawing this piece. beyond that, i didn't really have much of a plan for this outside of "mithrun looks down and hair goes woosh." i also really like all of the vertical lines in the canary uniform so i wanted to include those too but like. gone a little hog wild. that is the extent of my "concept." i do not remember why i had the thought of integrating a shattered mirror type of theme. i think i wanted to distract a bit from the awkward pose and cover it up some LOL but anyway. this lack of planning or thought will come into play later.

note 1: the textured marker brush i specifically use is the "bordered light marker" from daub. it is one of my favorite brushes in the history of forever and the daub mega brush pack is one of the best purchases ive ever made. highly recommend!!!

note 2: "what do you mean by exclusion and difference?" they are layer blending modes and not important to the overall lesson of this post but for transparency i wanted to say how i got these "effects." anyway!

with the background figured out, this is the point at which i generally merge all of my layers, duplicate said merged layer, and Then i begin experimenting with gradient maps. what are gradient maps?

the basic gist is that gradient maps replace the colors of an image based on their value.

so, with this particular gradient map, black will be replaced with that orangey red tone, white will be replaced with the seafoamy green tone, etc. this particular gradient map i'm using as an example is very bright and saturated, but the colors can be literally anything.

these two sets are the ones i use most. they can be downloaded for free here and here if you have csp. there are many gradient map sets out there. and you can make your own!

you can apply a gradient map directly onto a specific layer in csp by going to edit>tonal correction>gradient map. to apply one indirectly, you can use a correction layer through layer>new correction layer>gradient map. honestly, correction layers are probably the better way to go, because you can adjust your gradient map whenever you want after creating the layer, whereas if you directly apply a gradient map to a layer thats like. it. it's done. if you want to make changes to the applied gradient map, you have to undo it and then reapply it. i don't use correction layers because i am old and stuck in my ways, but it's good to know what your options are.

this is what a correction layer looks like. it sits on top and applies the gradient map to the layers underneath it, so you can also change the layers beneath however and whenever you want. you can adjust the gradient map by double clicking the layer. there are also correction layers for tone curves, brightness/contrast, etc. many such useful things in this program.

let's see how mithrun looks when we apply that first gradient map we looked at.

gadzooks. apologies for eyestrain. we have turned mithrun into a neon hellscape, which might work for some pieces, but not this one. we can fix that by changing the layer blending mode, aka this laundry list of words:

some of them are self explanatory, like darken and lighten, while some of them i genuinely don't understand how they are meant to work and couldn't explain them to you, even if i do use them. i'm sure someone out there has written out an explanation for each and every one of them, but i've learned primarily by clicking on them to see what they do.

for the topic of this post, the blending mode of interest is soft light. so let's take hotline miamithrun and change the layer blending mode to soft light.

here it is at 100% opacity. this is the point at which i'd like to explain why i like using textured brushes so much - it makes it very easy to get subtle color variation when i use this Secret Technique. look at the striation in the upper right background! so tasty. however, to me, these colors are still a bit "much." so let's lower the opacity.

i think thats a lot nicer to look at, personally, but i dont really like these colors together. how about we try some other ones?

i like both of these a lot more. the palettes give the piece different vibes, at which point i have to ask myself: What Are The Vibes, Actually? well, to be honest i didn't really have a great answer because again, i didn't plan this out very much at all. however. i knew in my heart that there was too much color contrast going on and it was detracting from the two other contrasts in here: the light and dark values and the sharp and soft shapes. i wanted mithrun's head to be the main focal point. for a different illustration, colors like this might work great, but this is not that hypothetical illustration, so let's bring the opacity down again.

yippee!! that's getting closer to what my heart wants. for fun, let's see what this looks like if we change the blending mode to color.

i do like how these look but in the end they do not align with my heart. oh well. fun to experiment with though! good to keep in mind for a different piece, maybe! i often change blending modes just to see what happens, and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. i very much cannot stress enough that much of my artistic process is clicking buttons i only sort of understand. for fun.

i ended up choosing the gradient map on the right because i liked that it was close to the actual canary uniform colors (sorta). it's at an even lower opacity though because there was Still too much color for my dear heart.

the actual process for this looks like me setting my merged layer to soft light at around 20% opacity and then clicking every single gradient map in my collection and seeing which one Works. sometimes i will do this multiple times and have multiple soft light and/or color layers combined.

typically at this point i merge everything again and do minor contrast adjustments using tone curves, which is another tool i find very fun to play around with. then for this piece in particular i did some finishing touches and decided that the white border was distracting so i cropped it. and then it's done!!! yay!!!!!

this process is a very simple and "fast" way to add more depth and visual interest to a piece without being overbearing. well, it's fast if you aren't indecisive like me, or if you are better at planning.

let's do another comparison. personally i feel that the hint of color on the left version makes mithrun look just a bit more unwell (this is a positive thing) and it makes the contrast on his arm a lot more pleasing to look at. someone who understands color theory better than i do might have more to say on the specifics, but that's honestly all i got.

just dont look at my layers too hard. ok?

[cripplecharacters]

Hi! I’m working on an original character project that I want to include a lot of casual representation in (“casual” meaning that the characters don’t need a justification for being disabled/fat/POC/etc, they just are because people can and do exist that way in reality!)

I was wondering if you had any suggestions for finding resources for drawing facial differences(and maybe other visible disabilities), especially in a cartoony style. I’ve looked through the Facial Equality Week tag but would like to see more examples, and since my art is so… goofy, for lack of a better word, I would love any help I can get in integrating differences without being offensive or upsetting.

Sorry if this is a bother, and thank you for all that you do!

Hi!

I'm not aware of any guides for drawing facial differences specifically (or at least, good ones. There's 1 billion tutorials telling you that scars are just a Singular Line, always, but that's not... correct), but perhaps someone in the notes could help out?

For my own advice, you could check out this old post I made. Because you mentioned your art being cartoony, I would specifically urge you to not overexaggerate facial differences the way they often are. Prime example would be how a lot of cartoons portray strabismus;

It's just a funny gag to them rather than, IDK, how some of us look like. Not to mention that one of these is also a mockery of intellectually/developmentally disabled people with "Derp" in the name, but that's beside the point here.

It's the whole "the character is crazy/stupid/wild/whatever and that's why they have it" that's the problem with how it's often shown. You can also see it in how characters who don't even normally have it will be shown with it for a scene where they're saying something nonsensical, etc.

Another example that's nowhere near as rampant is the like... split-face thing with various facial differences being used. Mostly vitiligo but sometimes also facial palsy. I'm talking about this weirdly perfectly halved face that looks extremely different on each side, often used to signal that a character is two-faced or that the author doesn't know how vitiligo looks like.

[note: vitiligo also shows up on lighter skin. I wanted to make sure it's visible here for tutorial clarity purposes.]

This one is just weird because it straight up doesn't look like that? I have no idea where it came from, but it should go back there. Facial palsy doesn't make someone look like the antique comedy/tragedy theater mask.

Unless I'm forgetting some other annoying cartoon trope, these would be the big ones that you should stay away from.

Outside of that, it's really on a case by case basis on how a specific FD should be drawn because they're so different! A birthmark can just be a differently colored patch of skin, but a craniofacial difference would require some more changes to be included. Alopecia is well, lack of hair, and can be done very easily but ectrodactyly can be more complicated to show properly because of the limitations of a cartoony artstyle when it comes to hands. And while I do think it would be great to see more of those facial differences that tend to not be included in art at all, there's nothing wrong with deciding to go for the things you can represent more faithfully, especially if you're just starting.

I will say that if you're making an honest attempt at being respectful and trying to get it right, most of us will still be excited to see your work. Even if it's not perfect or has some inaccuracies. I will take a "'yeah more or less' correct with a happy, human character" over a "Very Technically correct but tagged as #tw burns and with blood splattered on them" any day.

Lastly, I wanted to share some art featuring characters with facial differences (and other visible disabilities) that are done in a cartoony, or at least somewhat simplistic artstyles (I'm using both terms very widely here, but like. Not Realism) - maybe it will give you some ideas!

Man with Treacher Collins syndrome (also one of the first pieces online where I saw a character with an FD portrayed in such a lovely way! A fav of mine) Girl with Pfeiffer syndrome Too many characters to count! Woman with burns Woman with a limb difference Multiple characters again Animation featuring people with Down syndrome [youtube] Multiple characters, including a girl with neurofibromatosis, a burn survivor, a girl with a cleft lip and another with TCS! [twitter]

If you have a more specific art question ("how do I draw a person with XYZ facial difference?") you can send me an ask on @saszor! I prefer to stick to the writing theme on this blog but would still like to help if you need it:-)

Hope this helps!

mod Sasza

Edit: apologies for the lack of alt text on one of the images, it has been fixed!

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Keep Moving Forward

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You're determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he's just some guy that's taller than most people right? He's probably harmless! Well, he's a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

AN: Just want to say a massive thank you for everyones lovely comments on the last part, I can't believe how many notes that has now 😱 I've got a taglist so if you want to be added or removed (I just stuck down everyone that commented or reblogged the last one with tags/comments) lemme know! Also I've got my own version of what König looks like and I've been including details so hopefully you like my thoughts on him 🥰

Part 2 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️-

A forbidden crush, a whole unit of men watching out for any missteps and a job that required you to be on your A game - it all sounded a bit like a bonkers netflix plot, but no this was your life now. You were desperately trying to hide your little (massive) König crush, while trying to get through your days and it was going horribly. The universe was working against you. 

König kept appearing for one. Now that he knew you weren’t talking to him just to fuck with him, you’d been meeting more and more and talking for longer each time. In fact, you’d come to learn a lot about the man in the short amount of time you’d spent together and unfortunately for you, nothing about any of it turned you off.  In fact, you were only falling harder for him. 

Every touch, every grazed hand when you were reaching for mugs and brushed sides when you sat together on the couch - they were driving you crazy. Not to mention catching little details about him here and there, painting a mental picture that rivalled the mona lisa. 

You’d caught a glimpse of a scar that snaked up from his lip and a few that marred his hands and arms, you’d noted bruises that carried back from missions and most of all you couldn’t help but think of the little birthmark on his left hip that he’d exposed when he’d been reaching for tea. You thought about running your fingers along them often, kissing them all better. 

You’d learned that it was pretty much pointless to make movie references to König because he barely took time to watch them. He was much more of a doer, he didn’t like to sit still for long and most film runtimes were over an hour and a half, which was no good for him. And so you’d slowly gotten a peek into his more active hobbies. Hiking, rock climbing and skiing, only to name a few. The man was an athlete that rivalled most of the soldiers you knew.  

“And this was the view from top!” he’d proudly said after he showed you another picture from one of his hikes.

“Woah, no wonder your legs are like tree trunks,” you’d murmured, raking your eyes over his thick thighs.

“What was that?”

“Oh! Just- you must get a good workout climbing all those hills.”

Just one of the many times you’d let your appreciation for him slip. You could barely help it most of the time, he had your words fizzling out like some kind of mentos and coke explosion. The highly trained soldier in you died the minute you were in a room with him. 

It was when he grabbed you that you finally went stupid for him. König was - as Captain Price had described him - a mammoth in many regards. You’d already taken note of his verging on monstrous height, but you’d come to learn a lot more about his strength. He could lift you like you were little more than a lap dog.

How had you come to find this out? Well -

“Watch out!”

Your head had been completely in the clouds, busy catching up with messages from your family, when suddenly you were in the air. You gasped as you felt a pair of hulking arms pick you like an apple from a low hanging branch and squeaked when you looked down and came to notice the pile of vomit that lurked below your flailing feet. Gross. 

Then you’d come to the slow realisation of exactly whose arms were wrapped around you. Suddenly the rising feeling of nausea was replaced by hordes of stirred up butterflies.

“Are you ok?” 

You blinked, still shocked that König was holding you like you were nothing.

“Uh- ah- yeah! Yup! All good, big guy!”

You’d hurried out your reply, sputtering out your words like a leaky tap. You felt like an idiot. Then the feeling intensified when he put you down and turned you to face him. In fact, you felt like someone had placed a heat pad to your face after running a marathon.

If he could lift you that easy when you were limp, imagine how easy he could lift you up against the wall and-

“Are you sure you’re ok? You look…not so good?.”

You gulped and offered him what you hoped was a reassuring smile and then - to make matters worse - a double thumbs up (who did that???). You silently cursed in your mind, but covered up your embarrassment by staring back at the sick pile for a second and then facing König again.

“Ew…thanks for saving me from that! I would’ve been throwing up as well if I’d had to clean that outta my shoes.”

“Any time, friend!”

Friend.

It stung a little, but then you had to remind yourself you were both supposed to be acting professionally, this was a base afterall, and quickly righted yourself. Friend would do fine in a setting where Price would have your head for even looking at König a little flirtily. Especially when the resident gossips had continued to grass you in for any interactions they caught. 

-☠️-

“That was some amount of whitey those new recruits left all over the hallways yesterday,” Soap had remarked after finishing a set of pull ups. 

You hummed in agreement, remembering back to being lifted and growing quiet as you thought about Königs bulging arms. It had been a recurring thought for the whole twenty two hours since it had happened. Not that you were counting or anything, especially not being obsessive by any means. It was just that the electricity that had been sparked by that touch had been racing around your body and now you were stuck replaying the scene over and over in your head like an accursed rerun. 

“English, Soap,” Ghost grunted, from a nearby bench. 

“There was a lot of puke all over the place yesterday,” Soap sighed, rolling his eyes at the Lieutenant. 

“Oh yeah, I heard about that. Did you hear sneaky almost stepped in it?”

“Ooft, that’d be a shite shift cleaning that off.”

“I know. Luckily little sneak got airlifted to safety,” Ghost said slyly, giving you a pointed look. “Got snatched away by a certain giant before they stepped right in it.”

You froze in your spot, just about to curl a weight upwards before letting it crash out of your hands and onto the floor. That fucking, no good old dear prick! How had he heard about that? You hadn’t thought anyone else had been around when it had happened. 

“Careful, sneak. The German’s not here to stop that from stubbing your toe,” Ghost chuckled.

“He’s Austrian actually…And how did you know about that?”

“Oooh! Austrian,” Soap snickered.

“Well I do apologise. You should know by now that I hear about everything when it comes to our unit, sweetheart.”

You hated that. Whenever Ghost patronisingly called you sweetheart it made your blood boil and clouded your thoughts like a thick red mist. Though, there was nothing you could do about it. He wasn’t someone you could wage revenge on without being thoroughly outgunned in all respects. Plus, it would only make you look more guilty. 

“Well, you didn’t even know what nationality König was so you don’t know everything,” you muttered.

“Well, now that you’ve filled me in, I can go tell Price you were getting lifted up by the big Austrian cunt that he told you to stay away from,” he countered smugly. 

“What! I can’t help who snatches me out of the air from nowhere,” you hissed. “Have you seen the size of him? I can’t exactly stop him.”

He tisked. 

“Well then, soldier. Sounds like you need more training. C’mere, we’ll practise getting out of holds!”

You yelped as Ghost had come crashing toward you and dove out of the way just in time to miss his outstretched arms. Even if he was smaller than your new companion, Ghost was still built like a tank - and he would pin you down like a mouse under the wheel of a 4x4 if he caught you. 

“Stay away from me!” you’d squealed, running away from the gym. 

“Oh now you’re suddenly averse to getting grabbed!”

-☠️-

Essentially, you were discovering a new level of hell every day. Your entire unit had cottoned on to your little thing with König and now there was no escape from the jokes they made. Well that is until Price came along and no one was quite enough of an asshole to mention your activities to him. You all knew the consequences of getting his back up and it wasn’t worth the stress for anyone. 

Though, not everyone was aware of that - König himself for one. Unluckily for you, you’d found yourself in the kitchen with Price and Soap and just as the kettle was put to the boil, who should walk in but the Austrian giant himself. 

“Evening,” he murmured, barely loud enough to be heard over the kettle. 

Soap looked up from his phone as he noticed König and widened his eyes before searching you out and giving you a sly smile. Oh lord. You knew he was going to love watching you squirm. 

Suddenly your heart was thudding like a samba drum and your mind was racing to find your self restraint. Don’t let Price see you turn into a nervous fucking wreck! You repeated that over and over like a mantra, turning it over in the sands of your mind as if you might find some calm that way. 

“Evenin’” you smiled, feeling your voice lilt.

Oh god. 

You smiled at König as he approached the counter and promptly scampered away to the table, hoping that by keeping some distance you wouldn’t be so transparent. Fat chance considering the stupid smirk that was all over Soap’s face as he pretended to batter his eye lashes behind Price’s back. Asshole!

You knew you looked guilty as hell, even if you were walking away from König. However, any chance of not being caught ogling by Price was worth taking. So you figured you’d stare at your phone instead and prayed to all the gods you knew of that König was busy and he’d have to leave again after getting himself something to drink. 

Why didn’t he ever go out for food? There was a perfectly nice pub just over the road and he could easily go there instead of looking over you all the time - putting you in grievous danger of toilet duty. You’d have to tell him about it sometime, and hope that he’d ask to go with you. 

“Anyone else want a brew?” Price offered, in the midst of pouring his own cup. 

You looked up from your phone screen, darting your eyes over to the captain. Answer him! Speak normally!

“Oh! Yes, me please.”

Maybe that was a little more polite and nicey-nice than usual, but at least you were coherent. That was something, a small victory.

“Coffee for me, Price,” Soap grinned. 

You breathed out a small sigh now that Price was distracted by Soap and let your eyes wander over to König, resting your chin in your hand. He was so big, he towered over the two other men by a few heads at least. He could pin you down like a lion and there’d be nothing you could do about it, nothing you’d want to do about it. 

“That’s the wrong one.”

You jumped as König’s accented voice interrupted the thankful silence and widened your eyes as you watched him turn to Price. What was he doing? You sucked in a breath and watched as the two men became locked into an exchange and silently hoped a rogue sniper might take you out. 

“Sorry, what was that?” Price asked, frowning deeply as he stared at the masked man.

“That’s the wrong tea,” König supplied helpfully. “Sneaky likes this one.”

As if correcting Price on his choice of tea wasn’t enough, König went to the lengths of picking a bag of your herbal stuff out. He dropped it into the mug and stuck the other bag back in the back, tilting his head as Price stared at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“Well then…thanks for the advice,” he finally said, turning to stare you down. “It’s never nice when you expect one thing and get the other.”

You were in deep shit. 

He was giving you the ‘I’ve killed before and I’ll do it again’ look. You gulped and slumped in your chair, feeling like a tiny child that was about to get reprimanded. Price was going to learn all about your involvement with König soon, the game was up. 

“Oh yeah, no problem!” König said, sounding like he was smiling under his mask. 

That idiot! 

Though, in fairness to him he knew nothing about the toilet duty thing. He didn’t even have any idea that you weren’t supposed to be interacting with him, especially when you’d gone so out of your way to do it over the past month. It wasn’t his fault, but at the same time you could strangle his beautiful massive neck for what he’d done. 

“Sneak, would you mind coming with me for a moment? I think we should have a little chat,” Price smiled. “I’ll bring your tea.”

He was probably omitting that he was going to dump it over your stupid head, you thought worriedly. This wasn’t good at all. 

You gulped and nodded at him, slinking out of your chair like a dog about to take a beating. Though, you continued to follow behind him just as dutifully - Ignoring Soap as he gave you a little wave off and a snarky smile. You knew as soon as you’d left that he was messaging the group chat right then, and the whole 141 would know that you were getting pulled up for speaking to König. 

He lead you down the hall and into an empty meeting room, setting the two mugs down on the table, they hit the wood like death knells, and pointed to the chair in front of him. It all felt very formal, like this was going to be one of the worst telling offs of your life. 

“Don’t look so scared, kid.”

You bit your tongue and chanced a look in his eyes, seeing the glint that lingered within them. He didn’t look furious, but he didn’t look like he was going to offer you a cuddle and kind words either. It made you sweat a little less, but you weren’t dumb enough to completely untense your body yet. 

“Y-you’re not annoyed that I’ve been speaking to König?” You asked, chancing your luck.

“Oh, I’m annoyed, but I’m not going to kill you for it,” he laughed humorlessly, leaning back in his chair. “You look like you’re going to shit yourself.”

“I think I might,” you said, biting your lip and fastening your shaky hands around your warm tea cup. 

“See, that’s why I’m concerned about this…relationship you’re building with König. I worry about you.”

You frowned, thoroughly surprised by his reaction. He was being a damn sight more sympathetic than you were expecting. This wasn’t a bollocking, this was an intervention. 

“You don’t have to worry. We’re just friends - strictly platonic! We talk and have tea together, nothing more than that,” you explain breathily, hoping it’ll appease the captain.

He strokes a hand through his beard and eyes you warily. He’s clearly unconvinced. His jaw is set into a worried line. 

“Hmm.”

He doesn’t give much away. 

“Really, I’m not trying to take things f-further.”

You stutter like a liar. Really, that is what you’re doing if you’re honest with yourself. You might not be asking König out on dates and braiding flowers into his gear, but you have been shamelessly flirting with him and getting into close proximity with him at the slightest chance. Plus, Price practically knows you better than your own parents, he’d be able to tell when you were acting differently, like you were in terminal stages of puppy love. 

“Look, he’s not part of our unit, so really it’s none of my business, I can’t actually do anything about it - as much as I’d like to,” he says, glowering for a moment. “I just think that he’s dangerous and I don’t like the thought of you getting close to him. For all I know, he’s nice enough to you, but when he’s on the field that man’s an animal. There’s something wrong with him.” 

You gasp a little as he says it, shocked that he’d say something like that to you. What did he mean there was something wrong with König? Sure, you thought, he was quiet and intimidating but he was so polite and cheerful when you’d gotten to know him more. It’s not like most people were their best selves on a battlefield - it was in your training to leave all that behind. It was hypocritical to judge Königs actions given your experience with the 141 out on missions. 

“What do you mean there’s something wrong with him?” You finally asked, curious to know just what Price meant. 

“He takes too much pleasure in the work he does. He’s sick when he’s out there- like letting a rabid dog out of its cage. I worry about you getting involved with him and being at the mercy of a man like that. You wouldn’t have any chance against him, Sneak. I’ve seen him crush bones like they’re twigs, he’d snap you like a toothpick.”

You can feel your pulse in your ears, can hear it working away like a jackhammer. You don’t know how to respond. The fact that Price is this worried for you really does concern you, but on the other hand König has never given you any reason to be scared of him beyond that first encounter you’d had with him. Then again, you reasoned that that surely wasn’t the real him - that was guarded walled up version of him. Right? 

“I see,” you sighed, not able to come out with more. 

“I know you won’t want to take my word for it, and you’re going to keep doing whatever it is you're actually doing. I just want to know that you’ve been warned and you’re going to be careful.”

You took a breath and looked away, roving your eyes over the assortment of chairs on the other side of the room. Sure, you could take his warning on. Though, it didn’t feel like it was going to stick, not when you thought back to his arms wrapped around you and making you feel like a precious gem. 

“I’ll keep what you’ve said in mind,” you acquiesced. 

“Good soldier,” Price smiled, leaning over and patting your shoulder.

You swallowed thickly and stood up, feeling your breathing return back to normal. Well that was it then. You weren’t going to be killed on sight and you didn’t have to worry about staring down the bowl of a toilet for the rest of your miserable life. 

You both stepped out the doorway and into the light of the hall. You felt dizzy on your feet, but relieved that you were getting away without any punishment. Well, other than the fact that König might be someone to worry about rattling around in the back of your mind, that is. Then again, you had a sneaking suspicion that you’d forget all about it as soon as you were in his company again…

“Remember what I said, Sneaky! Otherwise I’ll let you think about it some more while you’re on your knees scrubbing toilets,” Price said over his shoulder, taking an indulgent sip of his coffee afterwards. 

You stopped in your tracks and shared a look with Soap, who’d poked his head out of the kitchen to check on you. Well, maybe you weren’t going to completely forget Price’s warning. His lingering threat would keep you on your toes. 

-☠️-

“It seems a little late for you to be out walking,” you noted.

You watched as König whirled around, and went wide eyed when he looked like he might hit you. His fist was drawn back and just when it looked like he was about to swing it - he stopped and let it fall flatly to his side. As soon as he’d scanned his eyes over your shrinking form he went limp immediately. 

“Scheiße! Where the hell did you come from?” he cursed.

You took a moment to recover but eventually found your heartbeat returning to its regular rhythm and swallowed, relaxing your shoulders soon after. That was close. You assumed he’d have known you were sitting there on the wall, he always seemed to have a hyper awareness of you as if he was some kind of bat. Though his echolocation must have failed for once, you’d been too obscured by the untrimmed tree branches that had surrounded you, most likely.  

“I-I come out and sit here sometimes, its nice to look at the stars.”

König regarded the wall you were sitting on, just a low down thing made of worn stone and his head followed where it stretched down the road. It cut off the pavement from the small scatty park inside. Then when he looked back at you with his twinkling azure eyes, those eyes that had you forgetting all about the near miss that just happened, you finally got to take him in properly. You watched him as he settled next to you on your makeshift seat. 

Two things struck you all at once. Firstly, König was wearing a neck warmer instead of his usual sniper hood, probably so he wouldn’t scare any civilians more than a hulking giant like himself normally would, it was drawn way up to the bridge of his nose, but nevertheless you knew it was him under there. And next - the mess of shaggy dirty-blonde hair on top of his head. You had to fight the urge not to ask if you could run your hands through it. It was like putting a moth in front of a thousand watt bulb. You ached to feel the fuzz of his faded sides and get to rearrange the chaotic locks above that sprawled in every direction.

“You’re staring.”

You bit your lip as he said it, and looked away guiltily. Oh fuck. It’s not like it could be helped though, this was the most you’d gotten to see of him. He was always so covered up and burdened by gear you could barely make out the man from the material - and now you were getting to see what was basically a visual buffet of König. It wasn’t fair. You could look at every inch of him that he’d let you see all day. 

“Sorry,” you finally breathed out. “I just- uh was surprised is all.”

“Why?” he smirked, eyes crinkling as he stared right back. 

“Didn’t think you’d be blonde,” you say, thinking blessedly quickly. 

“What is it they say? Blondes have more fun?” he chuckled, coming to sit on the wall next to you. 

You snorted and looked away from him again. Even though you’d been talking for a while now, his silly humour could still surprise you, especially when you recalled the way everyone acted around him, as if he’d bite them if they got too close. It was like getting to see a tiger roll onto his stomach when no one else was around. 

“How come you don’t wear that around the base?” you asked, tilting your head at him.

“Why would I? I can wear my hood there without getting questioned about it.”

“But isn’t it less stuffy with the neck warmer?” You ask, crinkling your nose at the thought of being trapped under that heavy material all day. 

“Yes, but it’s as though I can physically feel people's eyes cutting into me when I wear this - or nothing. The staring is too much.” 

You pause for a second and laugh at yourself, feeling a little more embarrassed.

“...Like I was just doing to you there.”

König laughs a little with you, but after a second he shakes his head and breaths out into the frigid night air. The skies had been dark for a little while by that point and the light of the moon was bright and shiny, reflecting in König’s eyes like a gleaming pearl. It was probably the first time you ever recalled admiring the moon that much. 

“I didn't feel like I was being dissected by you, no.”

You felt a little tingle run rogue down your arm. So he didn’t mind you looking at him? You smiled a little wider to yourself and tried to conceal it with a scratch of your cheek. 

“Really? Why’s that?” You asked, feeling a little brave. 

“You stare at me all the time, I’m used to it.”

Instantly it felt as if the air had caught fire and was charring you into oblivion. He’d caught you? Why hadn’t he said anything before? You opened your mouth ready to come up with some kind of silly excuse, too flustered to think of something good. Though he interrupts you before you can get a sound out. 

“I didn't mean to embarrass you, I find it endearing,” he soothed.

“What? Why?” you ask dumbly.

“The way you look - with your wide doe eyes…” he says trailing off. 

Now he cant look at you. His head turns away. You can't speak either, so you're both left frozen in place.

“The way you’re looking at me now,” he finally says.

“Maybe I just can’t stop staring at your messy hair,” you chuckle, trying to awkwardly change the subject. “Someone should fix that for you.”

“Does someone want to?” he asks, his brows setting as he tilts his chin. 

Oh no. You bite your lip feeling like your body’s going to astrally project onto another planet. Was this really happening? Did he actually just give you permission to touch him, no, run your hands through his hair? 

Part of you wants to laugh him off and prevent any embarrassment when he turns around and says he was kidding, says you’re a weirdo for wanting to touch him like that. Your mind starts going down avenues of all the awful things he could say about the little freak that looks at him too much, but then the sane part of your mind kicks and acts as a buffer stop, halting the run away anxiety train. König would never do that to you. 

You were far too used to dealing with Ghost and Soap, and all of their stupid teasing. But even then, not even they would do something so cruel. 

“I do,” you murmur. 

König nods and leans forward and closes his eyes, giving you what little advantage he can with the amount of height he has on you. At first, you’re incredulous that you’re in a real life scenario and not locked into a fantasy seven layers deep, but you quickly give up that idea and decide to tentatively reach out. You’re too excited not to take the opportunity. 

Your hand shakes a little at first as you make contact with his soft hair, and immediately you think of the devil dog your neighbour used to have when you were a kid. It was a huge old thing that barked like a foghorn, but once it got to know you, it would roll over and present its downy fur and you could spend hours at a time running your hands through it. Now, though, it’s not the scary shepherd you’re taming, it’s König. 

He sits perfectly still while you sort through all the strands, smoothing them back and fixing them into place. You swear you can hear soft groans coming from him, but they’re so quiet you could be mistaken. That, and you’re too mesmerised by the task at hand, forming his hood mussed hair into a style. 

When you’re done and his hair is mostly settled - apart from a small cow lick you can’t seem to fix - you can’t help but run your fingers over the fuzz on the side of his head. Immediately he shivers like a harsh breeze has rolled in, surprising you, but when he snaps his eyes open they don’t look annoyed like you worry he is, instead he looks ready to pin you down and take you right there against the wall.

“That felt very nice,” he said softly, blown out pupils shifting away from you as he straightened.

You’re not sure what to say, you just smile and bite your lip, keeping your eyes fixed on him. You know rightly that your pupils are just as wide as his, you can practically feel the explosion that’s going on. You want him. 

“König I… I uh-“ 

Footsteps sounding from nearby, crunching up the leaf littered pavement, interrupt all your thoughts and both of you turn your heads as someone walks up to you both. You hold in a breath, feeling like you’d scream otherwise and watch as a face comes into view from out of the shadows. 

Mercifully it’s not Ghost or Soap that marches up to you, it’s Gaz.He’d been the only one not to completely batter the dead ‘Sneaky and König up a tree’ horse. He stops when he sees you both and his eyes widen as he spots König, probably just as shocked as you were when he realised he can see his face. Though, he quickly averts his eyes and looks at you instead, awkwardly shifting his hands in his hoodie pocket. 

“Captain said to tell you we’ve got an early start tomorrow,” he says looking at you pointedly , “we’ve got a briefing at four. Said you best get all the sleep you can.” 

“Oh…do you know anything about it?” You ask, still feeling a bit breathless from before.

“From what I gather, the 141 and KorTac are heading out together, but I don’t know much beyond that,” he shrugs. 

You give a sideways glance to König and watch as he regards you the same way. That meant you’d be working together for the first time. You take a breath and look back at Gaz, finally nodding your head.

“Thanks for coming to let me know, I’ll head in in a minute,” you assure him. 

Gaz nods back curtly and turns on his heel, retreating to the base again and leaving you alone in the only silence. You finally look back at König, only once you’re sure there’s no one lurking around and looking to catch you with him, and smile softly. 

“Looks like we’ll be working together then,” you laugh awkwardly.

“Seems like it,” he replies, lowering his head. “Perhaps we should listen to the captain’s advice and head in.”

You feel a stab of disappointment tear through your heart immediately. You’d wanted to resume things from where you’d left off. You wanted to pull back the cloth from his face and kiss him under the stars as if they were watching and you were the only ones there. There were fireworks and sparklers going off in your mind, but now they were being snuffed out as you watched König stand up from your not so secret spot. 

“Come on, you need your rest,” he insists, holding out his hand. 

You raise your eyebrows, but put your hand in his and rise as he guides you up. Even with you standing, he towers above you. It’s especially noticeable as you stand so close to him, almost pressed to his big wide chest. There’s a snapping creature in your mind that distantly wishes to jump onto him and kiss him, but you beat the thought back and look away from König instead.

“Hey,” he says softly, tilting your head back with his rough gloved fingers. “I want to pick things back up too, but…not before a mission. We can do this again after all that. Yeah?” 

You gulp, feeling your spine light on fire with tingles. Did he just acknowledge that things were about to go further there? So he definitely felt the same as you…

“Makes sense,” you murmur, feeling your desperation roll off you in waves. 

He is speaking sense, but you don’t want him to be. 

“You can fix my hair for me again when we get back,” he teases, rubbing his finger against your jaw again. “I’m sure it will be very messy.”

“Am I your stylist now?” You smirk, feeling your mood lift. 

“Amongst other things,” he says, eyes showing the smile that was surely on his lips. 

You raise your eyebrows and just as you’re about to ask what things, he silences you with what he does next. He leans down and brings his lips to your cheek, and through his mask, kisses you. 

You freeze in place, your heart thudding like it’ll explode and close your eyes. You can’t believe what just happened. You laugh a little to yourself - letting loose a giggle and open your eyes, watching as he smiles back at you and gestures his hand back to base. 

“To be continued,” you whisper to yourself.

-☠-

Next Part Here

[aces-and-angels]

DONATE TO SHAHED'S FAMILY

dear moots/lovely lurkers:

if you've been online for these last few weeks- you may have noticed how often i've been pushing shahed's gfm. her campaign has been verified (source -> no. 224 on el-shab-hussein/nabulsi's sheet of vetted campaigns). and if y'all haven't had the chance to become acquainted, this is shahed:

shahed is a 21 year old who used to be a student at al-azhar university before the genocide began. with both her parents having taken ill, she is the sole provider for her family right now, including her five siblings, youngest of whom is just a baby. before the war, shahed used to take/share the most beautiful photos. this is one of them (taken from her tumblr @shahednhall | shahed's instagram

with the generous support of friends/strangers alike, shahed has been able to reach over $40K USD, enough to begin evacuating some of her family members (her younger siblings + her father) who are in desperate need of medical care

however, our work is far from over

shahed + her family are 17 strong and they all deserve a chance to live a life worth living. the situation in gaza is beyond catastrophic and grows more dangerous with each passing day. i have been in communication with shahed and would like to share her most recent message to me:

shahed: I have been displaced from my area, my circumstances are very difficult. I can't open the Internet for long periods, so I want you to help me more in publishing my campaign. I want to have reached a very difficult stage. I want to complete the campaign as soon as possible. I want to rest, I feel that I really survived. I don't want my campaign to stop halfway.

just yesterday, shahed shared that she narrowly escaped death while trying to get food/water for her family. the attacks/bombings at her campsite have forced her to move yet again

every displacement puts both a physical and emotional strain on these families. more often than not, there is little warning before they have to move- and when the time comes- they have to act quickly, leaving behind whatever they can't carry on their backs/can't afford to take with them <- yes, it costs money for them to be able to move.

every message i receive fills me with a mixture of relief and heartbreak-- i do not wish to know what i'll feel if i were to stop getting messages from shahed. i can't. not when i know there's a path to get her family to safety

that is why i am starting this donation match for her campaign. i don't have very much to offer, but i know that if enough people contribute a little, it can amount to a lot 🖤

for those able, please consider matching my donation of $5 USD (proof of donation below cut). shahed has a long way to go before she can achieve her goal of $80K. even if you cannot match me at this time (which is totally okay)- please share this post so others may have a chance to help

IMPT NOTE: @journalsforpalestine is raffling a set of beautiful journals. 4 winners will be chosen on August 31st. for anyone interested in entering -> please read the rules here for the first person to reblog & match my donation (and wants to enter in this raffle) i will give you my entry, so you will be entered to win twice* *(every entry= $5, so if you donate more, you will be entered accordingly).

current stats: $42,726 raised of $80,000 goal

tags for reach (sorry yall- please let me know if you wish to be removed from this list- no hard feelings, truly 🖤)

@timetravellingkitty @meaganfoster @briarhips @mazzikah @mahoushojoe 

@rhubarbspring @schoolhater @pcktknife @transmutationisms @sawasawako 

@feluka @terroristiraqi @irhabiya @commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria 

@deepspaceboytoy @post-brahminism @junglejim4322 @kibumkim @neechees 

@mangocheesecakes @kyra45 @marnota @7bitter @tortiefrancis 

@toiletpotato @fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @criptochecca 

@aristotels @komsomolka @neptunerings @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @heritageposts 

@ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @communistchilchuck @dykesbat 

@watermotif @stuckinapril @violentrevolution @mavigator @lacecap 

@socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @northgazaupdates

@parsnipjunction @mintmoth @mrfluffyturtle @colombinna @tinygalaxykid

@br-eddrolls @0luna123 @block-swing-perry @eflatminorseven @mothtral

@charlie-charlie @bitterlyromantic @pseudonymousposting @divineclouds

@interact-if

@agnesandhilda @frostbitefae @dove-tears @soljierpg @assad-zaman

@claudeleine @error-core-animations @kengi-bengi-alt @juneybug @kodigobacktosleep

@apocalyptic-dancehall @imnotthepersonyouseek @toonirl @kingofthebookcase

@kazehita @yonch @ayoedebiris @pinkdreamscape1 @king-dail 

@caseys-soup-corner @shoogachi @killy @missusmousse @j0ckhead

@whoopsiedaisy20 @squidie-tittie @dreamingamongthestars @trexpel @mischief16

@aria-ashryver @mydemonsdrivealimo @cadybear420 @thosehallowedhalls @ascindio

[skyefeys]

A Comprehensive Guide to Writing Gina Dialogue!!!

Do YOU like writing tgaa fics, but find yourself struggling to understand the speech habits of Gina Lestrade? Well, fortunately for you, I love linguistics and accents almost as much as I love Gina - so I've compiled a breakdown of every quirk in her speech!

(Full analysis under the break!)

Most of Gina's speech patterns can be broken down by three fundamental facts:

She speaks with a thick Cockney accent

She's uneducated, which leads to various grammar troubles

She uses a lot of informal cockney terms/slang

Let's get into it section-by-section!

(Note: Formatting looks a lot better on mobile!)

Section 1: Cockney Accent

So I’m an theater kid, and I've done dialect training for Cockney accents before - it's one of my best ones imo - so that certainly helped me write this section! Even without that, though, it's pretty easy to identify how her accent appears in her speech. Let's break it down!

Drop h's

Example: Here becomes 'ere

Drop g’s at the end of words

Example: Going becomes goin'

A few other word ends that get dropped:

Of becomes o'

And becomes an'

Th changes depending on the word - Thank you to annoyingloudmicrowavecultist for properly explaining how this works in the tags!

Voiced th becomes v

Example: With becomes wiv

Unvoiced th becomes f

Example: Nothing becomes nuffin'

For writing purposes, if a word would become unrecognizable with this change, it's left the same (but in actual speech, it would be pronounced differently)

Example: Father remains as father (but would be pronounced like fovva)

Th always remains intact at the start of words

Example: Thing remains as thing (but would be pronounced like fing)

Miscellaneous word changes

Something becomes summat (but other times is just somefin' - she's not consistent with either)

What becomes wot, whatever becomes wotever

Tomorrow becomes tomorra

Because is often shortened to 'cause, which becomes cos

Isn't almost always becomes ain't

Thank you / no thank you becomes ta / no ta

Some words spill together or are slurred

With that becomes wivvat, with it becomes wivvit (This one isn't actually used in-game, so you don't have to use it either, but it reflects how she'd actually be pronouncing it)

Isn't it becomes innit

Doesn't it becomes dunnit

Suppose becomes s'pose

Don't know becomes dunno

Probably becomes prob'ly

You might change - Another loose/inconsistent rule. Can depend on how the sentence would be pronounced out loud, but mostly is just a vibe

You becomes ya

Your/you're becomes yer

Yourself becomes yerself

Section 2: Grammatical Errors

Gina is an uneducated East End orphan, so it should come as no surprise that she makes mistakes here and there. Here are her consistent ones! Some of these are confusing/hard to explain, so I included specific examples.

Will say me instead of my, and meself instead of myself

Example: "I dunno much about guns meself."

Incorrect tense usage of was/were in negatives - Instead of I/it wasn’t, she’ll say I/it weren’t

Example: "I was up in a balloon, weren't I?"

Incorrect tense usage of does/do in negatives - Instead of he doesn’t, she’ll say he don’t

Example: "Somefin' wot 'e don't want people readin'."

Double negatives

Ever becomes never in negative statements

Example: "I swear on my life, I ain't never laid eyes on that dandy before."

Never + anything becomes never + nothing

Example: "I never done nuffin' o' the sort!"

Never + anyone becomes never + no one

Example: "All me life, growin' up in the slums, I've never trusted no one."

Haven't you ever becomes ain't you never

Example: "Ain't you lot never gone over an 'ouse lookin' for dough when the owners are out o' town?"

The word that or who in the context of ascribing a feature to a subject is replaced by the word what

Example: "She's always goin' on about all them cases wot Sholmes is lookin' into."

Other example: "I think I wouldn't fancy me chances wiv a lawyer wot lives in a place like this."

Will say them instead of those

"All them skylights open, dead easy."

Will say no more instead of anymore

"Ya dropped it, so it ain't yours no more."

She’ll sometimes mess up bigger, unfamiliar words. This one's entirely in your discretion what words she might mess up. Some canon examples:

“Supperment��� instead of supplement

“Mantlescript” instead of manuscript

On a similar note, she'll sometimes confidently get sayings wrong and think she sounds smart

“Toby's...'ow did they put it...? ...Oh, yeah! A 'bone-fide' detective!”

Section 3: Cockney Terms/Slang

In addition to her thick dialect, growing up in the East End means Gina has also adopted a plethora of unique words and phrases. This'll be more like a vocab section!

Cockney rhyming slang - Some words are replaced with phrases that rhyme with them. She uses a few in canon:

Instead of believe, she’ll say Adam an’ Eve

“Would you Adam an' Eve it, eh?! Wot a mug!”

Instead of face, she’ll say chevy chase

“Yeah, I can see it written all over yer chevy chase!”

Interjections/Exclamations

Blimey - Express surprise or shock

"Blimey, yer right! That streak o' light in the photo looks just like an arrow, dunnit?"

Cor - A general interjection, kind of a euphemism for god

"Cor, listen to you! Ya stumble across a bit o' balloon an' suddenly yer the best investigator in the world!"

Oi - I doubt I need to define this one, but it's basically the equivalent of "hey"

"Oi! That's off limits up there!"

Words for people

Cove, bloke - A boy or man. Gina tends to use cove more often than bloke.

"That's where the cove ended up after 'is 'instant kinesis' or wotever they call it."

"When I lifted the last bloke's purse, 'e got wise to me."

Dandy - A conceited, fashionable upperclass man. Can be used as a noun or adjective.

In reference to Ashley Graydon: "I swear on my life, I ain't never laid eyes on that dandy before."

Dee - Thank you to uzukirie for figuring this out in the replies of this post - dee is short for detective!

To Sholmes: "I don't need no 'elp from some stuck-up dee!"

About Gregson: "Yeah, the dee let me keep it. After I looked daggers at 'im for long enough."

Swell - A wealthy or elegant person. In canon, Gina uses this exclusively in reference to McGilded.

"It's because o' that, this swell found me. …'E did 'elp me get away, mind."

Miscellaneous vocab

Dodgy - Suspicious

"It was amazin' when you showed that dodgy professor's dodgy experiment was a total fix!"

Rum - Odd or strange

"I mean, wot's the point of spendin' a joey to make a few bob, eh? That's a rum idea, innit?"

Coppers - Cops

"If you do wot the grown-ups tell ya, it'll get yer mates dragged off by the coppers. Or worse."

Scarper - Flee/run away/leave in a hurry. Also comes from rhyming slang - Scarper = Scapa Flow = Go

"If I did that, 'e said 'e'd let me scarper before the coppers showed up."

Have a butcher's - Take a look. Also comes from rhyming slang - "butcher's hook" = look

"Most days I push the cushion up wiv me 'ead an' look out the crack. Then I can 'ave a butcher's at who I'm gonna fiddle."

Rude words/phrases :)

Gordon Bennett - Expresses surprise or contempt - kind of a euphemism for goddammit.

"Gordon Bennett! You lot!"

Flamin', bleedin', - General emphasis. Pretty much just gentler ways of saying fucking.

Note!! You might be tempted to make Gina say "bloody", since that's well-known British slang, but she never says that. She says bleedin' in its place.

"Don't be so flamin' rude, 'Oddo!"

"It's lies every bleedin' place ya look in this world, innit?"

Bleedin’ Nora - A variation of "Bloody Norah", a surprised/irritated interjection.

"Wot the bleedin' Nora, 'Oddo?! Wot 'ave you gone an' done?!"

Bogtrotter - A derogatory term for an Irish person. She uses this to refer to McGilded.

"Look at the mess it's got you into, believin' in that bogtrotter!"

Mug - An idiot.

"You can't do it from inside, you mug."

Blue blazes - An alliterative exaggeration of "blazes". A euphemism for hell.

"Where the blue blazes 'ave you been, eh?"

Cobblers - Rubbish/nonsense. Literally, it means testicles - derived from Cockney rhyming slang, where "cobbler's awls" = balls.

"All this nonsense about the boss plannin' to kill people… It's cobblers!"

And 1.2k words later, that's pretty much it! Now you can write Gina dialogue spot on <3

Feel free to suggest anything I'm missing/got wrong - I come back and edit this for accuracy's sake every time I notice something I left out, or when people in the replies/tags point things out!

[sahisan]

— curiousity killed the cat.

featuring . pm!dazai osamu.

tags . suggestive, so slight nsfw. civilian!gn!reader. dazai's a bit sick. just pmzai things yk (he's scary). weapons described (he has a gun). blood mentioned. gunplay mentioned (brief suggestive description). wc 1.8k.

author note . this is so random i don't even know if the paragraphs do well together bc i just poured my most random thoughts into it and i was sleepy and barely managed to proofread it. yep. i imagined mostly 20-22!pmzai here.

dazai hid many things. he hid them well; years of being on constant standby, awaiting, on guard about anything enemy or not related. he hid in the shadows no matter day or night, but the shadows didn't always necessarily mean him only scrambling around in narrow alleyways or in the safety of the headquarters—in reality, he spent little time in the latter, nor did he 'lurk in the shadows' often, unless on a mission.

he hid everything from everyone, including you; of course including you. and the thing that bothered him the most was you finding out about what he does. did. has done. keeps on doing every day. not only does he not want the port mafia's countless enemies to know about you, but dazai also dreads the thought of you getting even a little bit closer to the truth of what he does for a living. he thinks of how he might slip one day and just reveal his true nature, intentionally or not, and either let you be disgusted and scared or kill you immediately because you might report to the police; it bothers him in both ways.

dazai avoids the area of your home when out at work. he makes sure to put on some casual clothes before visiting your place. when things are bad, work routine and you colliding together closer to night, he makes sure to hold a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide in his inner pocket to quickly wash away the stains of blood from his clothes. he keeps a bit of cologne there as well, to hide the stench of blood he usually reeks of during the day—he doesn't even use cologne daily. if you need him right after work, he disposes of his weapons, giving them away to the underlings that follow his word.

everything is always under control.

like tonight. he'd had a "kill and dispose" assignment, after which he'd had to go to yours and spoil you with a movie night he promised you. ah, the long-awaited respite from everyday bloodshed.

yet he was still on guard; he always has been, but today was busy and rough and all he needed was your embrace and a movie as a background noise while he showered you with kisses and cuddled you with neverending hugs.

and dazai forgot.

already at your doorstep, already having ringed the bell by your front door when dazai looked down at himself and—

fuck.

there was a small but clear blood stain right next to his tie. ah. how great. he definitely won't have time to remove it, but he might try to win some time to divert your attention from it if you notice—and you will, if he doesn't do anything about it.

with the door opening, dazai threw himself at you, literally waltzing into your apartment, hip to hip, your left hand in his right and his left hand at your waist, he led you through the corridor in an almost hasty improvisation of a dance, causing his tie to sway just in the right direction and have you giving him a look that screamed "you and your antics again?". good.

"ah, you look especially divine tonight," he mused, nuzzling your neck and making you place your chin on his shoulder; very good, the stain was out of your sight at least for now, and he couldn't be happier about that. "i haven't had dinner yet but i already know what i want for dessert."

distract. distract and avert and keep away—best tactic of dazai's that rarely failed, and he was used to putting it to use everywhere he could, including you. you could be perceptive or gullible, didn't matter—it worked wonders on anyone and will continue working for as long as he wanted to.

dazai swayed you around a few more times, dancing his way into your living room while humming a nauseatingly sweet, random tune he made up in his head a second ago. hip against yours again, he let a content smirk wash over his lips.

a clank. soft, quiet sound of metal clanking once echoed through the room, and it was almost eerie silence aside from his barely audible humming just as his hipbone met yours.

that didn't sound good, considering the only thing on his hip was—

ah. dazai forgot two things tonight.

in reverie about cursing himself head to toe in his mind, he lost the sensation of your touch until it felt too suspicious and he was too late, you reaching for the side hem of his coat and tugging it away from his side to reveal it to the light. you were always so curious, and he couldn't tell whether it was bad or good for him in general.

the soft clink echoed once more as your fingers grazed the object, and his eyes narrowed. the gun. shit. in his distracted state, he'd forgotten to dispose of it along with wiping away the blood.

dazai's hand shot out from beneath the coat, and he knew he wasn't doing himself a favor by raising his hand to grab yours, only revealing the holster further, but he didn't necessarily give a shit right now. he ought to do more than care about the gun right now, like a proper boyfriend, first being calming you down and assuring you it's not loaded and isn't as scary as it looks and that you shouldn't be afraid and the second being change of course of the conversation so seamlessly that you forget about the weapon for the rest of the night at least (unfortunately, the last sentence never crossed his mind).

but when did dazai ever go according to an adequate plan?

his hand held yours in the air, palm gliding up and down your inner forearm, trying to, first, soothe every negative emotion that might come up on the surface of your face, as well as keeping your curious hand away.

"ah-ah-ah, how naughty," dazai purred, voice dripping with false sweetness even as his eyes glinted with dangerous amusement; what he was supposed to be doing absolutely slipped from his thoughts the second he sensed the quickening of your heartbeat and breath and the cautious halting and tensing of your body against his, and he was already getting hard just from this. sick. "what did i tell you about wandering hands, hmm?"

he ground his hips against yours once after that, letting you feel the growing hardness in his pants. distraction. that was the key. keep you focused on his body, on the pleasure he could give you, and you'd forget all about that pesky gun in no time.

“careful there, baby. wouldn’t want you to accidentally shoot yourself,” he said with a twisted, growing grin. his other hand, previously holding your left one, slid away from it to cup your cheek, thumb brushing along your jawline in a mockery of tenderness, visible eye looking down at your mouth.

"i'd hate to see those pretty lips marred by blood."

and yet, once he'd lifted his eyes up to yours, dazai could feel you tense under his touch, heart racing beneath your skin. he knew that look in your eyes, that widening of your pupils; he was all too familiar with it. fear. he had been so focused on the thrilling, twisted satisfaction the situation brought him momentarily, that he hadn't noticed how his actions were affecting you. his grip on your wrist loosened, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your inner wrist.

dazai sighed, deciding it was time to stop scaring you with both his demeanor and the weapon, even if it wasn't what he wanted right now at all; he had a switch to pull off, an appearance to keep up in front of you. ah, but how he'd love to prolong that moment for just a little longer: your fear palpable in the air, that scared glance you cast at him once, the trembling of your hands, hitch in your breathing and increase of your heartbeat.

maybe later.

"easy, easy," he murmured, voice low and soothing even as his mind raced. he tapped the holster twice. "it's not loaded, see?" a lie. "just a little souvenir," a lie. the gun was always loaded, ready to be drawn at a moment's notice, but you surely didn't need to know that. he'd already subjected you to more horror than a civilian would need to witness.

dazai leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke. "you know i'd never be involved with these types of things and would never hurt you, right?" honey-sweet, dripping with false sincerity words. what he was absolutely best at was lying and manipulating, and he couldn't even control it anymore; if he needed you to believe, he will make you believe, one way or another.

"but you also shouldn't go poking around where you don't belong," he purred lowly with an audible dangerous lilt to his tone, lips now moving lower and ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck. "who knows what kind of trouble you might find yourself in. curiosity killed the cat, you know. you never know when you'll be the cat. and I'm not sure i'd be able to live with myself if something happened to you."

dazai could try to keep you away from his sicko tendencies and mind and thoughts that were all over the place and mingled together; the thoughts of protecting you from all of this meeting the ones of putting that gun to better use that just shooting people. and right now, he was barely holding it all in.

think of it this way: the thoughts of keeping his precious favourite civilian away from the corrupted knowledge and pain and feeling you tremble in fear underneath him, with the barrel of his gun tracing over your bare skin and getting dangerously close to where you'd need him most? oh, did the latter make dazai's stomach contort with desire and hips buckle up into yours. he would have to think more clearly about this later when his head wasn't a wreck of everything at once, but now...

"you want to play with something hard, baby?" dazai murmured in the end, all sultry and beaming with desire. "i'll give you something much better than a piece of metal to wrap your pretty fingers around."

dazai was sick and his mind twisted and he didn't get how he could ever keep someone like you by his side, but he supposed it was fate; and for as long as fate was merciful to him, he would make good use of it.

"but behave, hmm?"

[pinkykats-place]

BakuDeku ft. Midoriya-Sensei

Some include the new hero suit

AO3 Fanfic Recommendations

Disclaimers!

None of the stories below are mine.

Some contain mature content.

Read tags. Check Ratings.

@kyuriart gave permission to use art.

Note: If you read any of these stories and like them please let the author know with a kudos and/or comment!

Midoriya-sensei's boyfriend by @silverynight

Summary: "Midoriya-sensei?"

"Yes?"

"Is pro hero Dynamight your boyfriend?"

Izuku wishes he didn't blush that often because it makes it look like he's lying. He gets those questions a lot, but hasn't gotten used to them.

"No."

"Are you dating a pro hero?"

"No."

"Is he your husband then?"

"No." Izuku holds himself back from covering his red face with both arms like he did in high-school when he was too flustered. "Ka–I mean, Dynamight-san and I are friends. There's nothing else to it."

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

Eight years and counting by @silverynight

Summary: "For young Midoriya?"

All Might already knows it's for Izuku, but the question is not exactly about that and Katsuki is perfectly aware of it; he can see it in the soft smile of Izuku's mentor, he can see it in the way his blue eyes shine with knowledge.

Katsuki blushes, but he doesn't look away from the former symbol of peace. He's not that middle schooler hot-heated kid anymore. He's done hiding his feelings behind anger and he's not ashamed about what he feels for Izuku. He's pretty sure All Might knows about that, he's probably waiting for a confirmation.

Katsuki nods, blush spreading down his neck.

"It'll take years to make something like that."

"I'm aware."

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

how i long for our trysts by nikkiRA

Summary: Most nights the only thing he has the energy for is crawling into bed beside Izuku and falling immediately to sleep. It’s why they’re taking such a risk and doing this here.

That and because it’s hot. Sneaking away to fuck like they were teenagers again. That and Izuku’s suit. Katsuki has a Thing for Izuku’s suit, how nicely it contours to his body, how strong he looks in it. Anytime Izuku got dressed up, all Katsuki could focus on was how much he wanted to undress him.

{One Shot}

Rated - Explicit

all my emotions feel like explosions (when you are around) by tiffaniesblews

Summary: He really could not think of a time in his life that didn’t include Midoriya Izuku.

OR: Bakugou pines for 4200 words.

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

see you at home by marsbarrss

Summary: “Deku, you dumbass, you forgot your lunch again,” he grumbles, pushing the wrapped lunch box into his hands. The floral print flashes up at him.

“Ah, Kacchan, you don’t have to make me lunch, seriously!” Izuku flounders, but he accepts the offering anyway. He sort of has to, or else Katsuki will flip his shit. “I can just eat at home…”

The class immediately erupts in chatter, jumping to question both men about their relationship.

Five times Katsuki disrupted Izuku at work, and one time Izuku disrupts Katsuki at work.

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

have you heard about the rumors? by DetectiveKirigiri

Summary: Everyone assumes pro hero Dynamight and infamous UA-teacher-slash-pro-hero Deku have been together for the longest time, but the thing is, they aren’t even dating, and Katsuki hasn’t even grown the balls to confess yet.

So what do their ever supportive and encouraging classmates do? Help Katsuki plan out the perfect confession to Izuku.

The only problem? So many rumors are starting to spread all at once. Also, they barely have any free time, and Izuku has papers to grade.

WIP | 14/? Chapters

Rated - Teen & Up

love is a gentle thing by tenthuser

Summary: Izuku takes pride in knowing Kacchan better than anyone else, but as they grow older, he realizes there are still things left to learn.

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

Happy with that? by polkahdotti

Summary: The first issue was that he and Midoriya hadn’t spoken in seven years, and likely the stupid brat didn’t even want to be a hero anymore, and had completely moved on from Bakugou for good.

The second issue was that the suit was nearly finished.

And Midoriya didn’t know a damn thing about it.

— — —

Or: Bakugou manages to be a pining loser and oblivious about his own feelings and Midoriya isn't much help. They'll figure it out.

Complete | 2 Chapters

Rated - General Audiences

wreck my plans (that's my man) by Icantthinkofagoodusername7

Summary: One of the students raises her hand and upon being called on asks, “Dynamight, sir? Is Mr. Midoriya your husband? Your rings match,” She points toward the chain around his neck.

With that assumption, the other students also start to whisper about how right this student likely is.

”Wait, that’s so right. Plus they seem so close, Dynamight’s always hanging around here.”

”Oh also a couple weeks ago when Yui, Haruko, Mizuko, and I came here for lunch, Mr. Midoriya was on the phone with his husband and called him Kacchan, which could be a play off of Dynamight’s given name.”

“Oh my gosh that’s so cute, y’know if they aren’t married I wanna figure out who goes by Kacchan, that’s so cute.”

”Also, remember when Dynamight showed up like a month ago or something and then after he left, Mr. Midoriya was wearing his wedding rings?”

”I’m just seeing evidence after evidence.”

*

OR 5 times Midoriya and Bakugou nearly reveal their relationship to Midoriya’s students + the 1 time they actually do

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

Recharge by @silverynight

Summary: "Your childhood friend is taking too many extra shifts; he'll pass out soon at this rate."

Aizawa does that a lot lately; he casually walks into Izuku's classroom or his office, only to drop random information about Katsuki. It's usually something Aizawa disapproves of.

Izuku sighs, looking up at the window from all the essays he has to grade. Lately, Katsuki is making him worry too much.

The funny thing is that Aizawa believes he has some secret power to make pro hero Katsuki stop or change his mind; sure, they're friends, and he often listens to Izuku (yes, he also pays him a lot of visits) but it's not like the young teacher can work miracles.

***

A glimpse into their lives during those eight years.

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

[candycandy00]

The Doll House - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 1

Covered in scars and left totally numb by your abusive previous owner, you’re considered an “unsellable doll”. That is, until the Doll House takes you in and Sukuna becomes your trainer.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!

On the outskirts of town, there stands a particular shop called the “Doll House”. Inside its walls you can find a “doll” to match any taste you might have. All your desires will be fulfilled, no matter how depraved. Satisfaction is guaranteed! The dolls are exceptionally high quality, thanks to the skillful trainers who work with them twenty-four hours a day, molding them into perfect toys for your enjoyment.

Each trainer has a specialty that they focus on, and they all take great pride in their work. Their methods differ greatly, their approaches vary, but they all follow one rule: never get attached to a doll. After the training is complete, they hand the dolls over to their new owners, and never see them again. However, just once over the course of their careers, trainers are allowed to pick a doll they’ve personally trained and keep her as their own.

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Sukuna’s. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored! I’m not keeping the same tag list as before, since this part deals with darker themes. I will resume the tag list after Sukuna’s part is finished! So if you want to be tagged in this one, please specify!

Note: Consider these parts AU’s within an AU. So you might see Geto with a different doll from the reader in his part, but just consider this an alternate timeline lol.

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. BDSM. Erotic Torture. Needles. Reader is covered in scars. Everything that happens between Sukuna and Reader is consensual but there is mention of abuse by a previous owner. Divider by @benkeibear!

“That’s all you’ll give me for her?”

“I think this is a generous offer, all things considered.”

You’re sitting in a plush leather chair in the office of the owner of the Doll House while your father argues with her about pricing. It’s been going on for thirty minutes now, your father growing more agitated while the owner remains calm and firm. 

“Sir,” the owner begins, leaning forward slightly over her desk, “there are two major issues with your daughter. For one, she has a previous owner. Most of our clients consider that a deal breaker.”

“She was just with that guy a little over a year!” your father retorts, his face slightly red. 

“I’m aware of that. But that leads us to the other issue.”  The owner pauses and glances at you. “Your daughter’s scars are quite prominent. They’re very hard to ignore.”

There’s a hint of an apology in her eyes. It’s unnecessary. You know better than anyone that you’re disfigured. Scars of various types and sizes cover over half your body, including a sizable portion of your face. 

Your father is sweating. “I‘ve heard some clients have weird  tastes, that they actually want… people like her.”

The owner leans back in her chair. “It is true that we sometimes get unusual requests. But it doesn’t happen often. She would have to be given highly specialized training, to emphasize that unique aspect.”

Your father’s face lights up. “Then do that!”

The owner looks from him to you, then says, “I need to speak to her privately before finalizing the purchase.”

“What? Why?” your father asks. 

“It’s a routine part of the interview, I assure you,” the owner replies smoothly. 

Your father hesitates, but then stands up from his seat. He gives you a stern look, a warning look, and then he’s out the door. 

The owner’s face seems to soften slightly. “How do you feel about this?” 

You shrug. “I don’t feel anything. I haven’t in a long time.”

The owner looks at a laptop sitting open on her desk. “Let’s go over a few things in your file first. It says here you were sold on the direct market on your eighteenth birthday. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“You were with your previous owner for sixteen months before being removed, during which time he breached the contract by doing permanent harm. Hence the scars.”

“Yes,” you answer again. 

“And I see that your father sued your previous owner, collecting quite the hefty sum for your suffering.”

You nod. 

The owner closes the laptop and looks at you again. “And I’m guessing your father already blew through that money, despite only two years passing. So he’s selling you again. How many other doll shops has he taken you to so far?”

“Three.”

“Any offers?”

“None,” you say, eyes lowering toward the floor. 

The owner sighs. “If I don’t take you, he’s going to sell you on the direct market again, isn’t he?”

“He already tried,” you tell her, “but he said the offers were too low. If no shop will take me, he’ll probably go back and take a low offer.”

The owner grimaces. “He’s a real sick fuck, your father.”

“I know.”

“Do you want me to take you on?”

You think for a moment, then say, “It doesn’t matter. I can’t feel anything anyway.”

“When you say that,” the owner says, “do you mean physically or emotionally?”

“Both. I’ve been numb for nearly three years now.”

The owner picks up a silk fan from her desk and lightly taps her chin with it as she regards you. After a few moments, she says, “Alright. I’ll take you. I’ll make a slightly higher offer to your father, one he would be foolish to refuse. And in light of your unique circumstances, I’m going to add two extra clauses to your contract. The first is that you will have the option to change trainers if the one I assign to you is too much for you.”

You nod. “And the second?”

“All dolls sold through the Doll House are allowed to come back within one week of being purchased by a client, if they provide sufficient reasoning. In your case, I’m extending that to two weeks, and you don’t have to provide a reason. I’ll take you back, no questions asked, if you feel like your owner isn’t right for you. However, I would advise you not to abuse this privilege.”

“I understand.”

“Alright then. Let’s get your father back in here and finalize the sale.”

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

Sukuna grins when he sees the message on his phone: “I have a new doll for you to train.”

He’s at home, in his swanky, upscale apartment in the city. Though he enjoys his alone time, he very much enjoys his work at the Doll House as well. Unlike the other trainers, Sukuna doesn’t keep a near constant flow of new dolls. He understands why of course. His training produces a very specific sort of doll that only a specific sort of client wants. But he trains enough dolls to keep himself well paid, and the work is incredibly satisfying. 

The standard training time is six weeks, which is exactly the right amount of time for Sukuna to thoroughly enjoy each doll without getting too bored with them before they’re handed over to their owners. He can’t imagine why anyone would want to keep the same doll for ten whole years. He knows he’s not alone in this thought, which is why doll rental services have been growing in popularity lately. 

He packs a few things into a small duffel bag. He keeps plenty of clothes and personal items in his room at the Doll House, so he only has to pack lightly for the six week stay. He’s in a good mood as he turns off the lights and locks the door. 

When  he arrives at the Doll House, he finds a rather interesting young woman sitting in the welcome room. Interesting because half her pretty face is covered in scars, as well as what’s visible of her left arm. Just how far do they extend? He’s looking forward to finding out. 

She glances up at him, but gives no reaction. Strange. Most new dolls look terrified, or at least nervous, when they see him for the first time. It’s probably the tattoos that frighten them. Sukuna is well aware that they make him look like a Yakuza member, or some criminal from a past era. But he so enjoys the way people instinctively shrink back away from them. 

The owner meets him in the welcome room and ushers him into her office. All trainers are briefed on their new dolls, except in unusual circumstances. But the owner looks troubled today, meaning this doll has a story. But he supposes the scars made that obvious already. 

Sitting in a chair across the desk from the owner, Sukuna places one elbow on the cushioned arm and props his face up with his hand. “So? What’s the deal with little Miss gloomy out there?”

The owner is tapping keys on her laptop, then he hears his phone chime from his pocket. “I’ve sent you her file. You really need to read over it. She has a complicated history.”

“Give me the short version,” he says, making a mental note to at least skim the file later. 

“Previous owner who abused and tortured her, shitty father who’s sold her twice now, and… she can’t feel anything.”

That last part captures Sukuna’s attention. “What does that mean?”

“She’s completely numb, both physically and emotionally. I’ve read over her medical reports, and they’ve concluded that there’s no significant nerve damage. The scar tissue dulls her senses in those areas somewhat, but they don’t leave her totally numb like this. And she can’t feel anything in the unscarred areas either.”

“Meaning it’s psychological,” Sukuna says. 

The owner nods. “It’s clearly a defense mechanism. Her body and mind simply shut off all sensation in order to cope. And that’s going to be her biggest issue as a doll. There are plenty of buyers who would find the scars exotic, but a doll who doesn’t react to anything? No one wants that. And if we don’t eventually find a buyer for her, she’s going to get passed around from one scumbag to another on the direct market for the rest of her life.”

Sukuna had little interest in the doll’s sob story, but he was intrigued by the fact that she couldn’t feel anything. “So you want me to fix her? Make her feel again?”

“Yes. I figured if anyone could, it would be you. But be careful. She’s already been shattered. I don’t need you grinding up the pieces.”

Sukuna stands up and heads for the door. “Don’t worry. I’ll reforge her,” he says with a smile, “in a way that pleases me.”

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

The man covered in strange black tattoos introduces himself as your trainer. He’s handsome, well-built, and dressed like a man far too rich to be working here. A few years ago, you might have been attracted to him. Your heart might have fluttered at the thought of him touching you. But now? Now you feel nothing as he tells you to follow him to his room. 

He opens the door and walks in first, turning on the lights as he goes. You follow behind him and look around. The room looks like someone converted a fancy hotel room into a dungeon. 

The deep red carpets and expensive looking furniture contrast with the various… devices around the room. There’s an X shaped table, harnesses and chains hanging from the ceiling, and a wall of leashes, whips, rods, and other such items along the left side of the room. 

Ah, so he’s this type. 

You’re not surprised. Actually, it makes sense. Give the girl who can’t feel pain to the trainer who tortures his dolls. 

The man, who said his name is Sukuna, is watching your face, looking for a reaction. He won’t find one. But instead of seeming disappointed, he’s grinning. 

“My specialty is probably obvious,” he says, to which you nod. Then he goes over to the wall of tools and toys, taking something small and shiny from it. When he returns, there’s a silver, claw-like item on his right index finger. Without a word of warning, he approaches you and quickly swipes the claw over your exposed right forearm. 

You look down, curious, to see a thin red line appear on your skin, small drops of blood beading along it before sliding down. You watch the blood with no expression for a moment before looking back up at Sukuna. 

His grin is wider than before. “You really didn’t feel that,” he says, not a question but a statement. He’s standing in front of you, staring at you, when he says, “Let me ask you something, and think hard about your answer. It’s going to determine how the training proceeds.”

You nod. 

“Do you prefer being this way to how you were before?”

You blink as the question settles into your mind. You’ve never really thought about it before, but do you prefer being numb? It’s helped you block out the hurt you felt upon being sold off by your father, being abused by your owner, but it also blocks out any joy. 

“I… I don’t know.”

He’s looming over you, looking down with an expression you can’t quite place. Is it desire? Pity? Disgust? Or have you lost the ability to distinguish them? 

“Do you want to feel again?” he asks, something about his deep tone telling you to answer honestly. The sheer intensity of his presence is overwhelming you. 

You can still remember when you felt things. You can remember a poor but happy childhood when your mother was still alive. Even after, when things got worse, there were still moments of happiness. Watching movies with a friend, eating cheap snacks from the convenience store down the street. A kiss from the boy you had a crush on in high school. You miss these feelings. And once you realize that, your answer is clear. 

“Yes, I want to feel again.”

“Even if what you feel is pain?” he asks. 

An emotion you haven’t felt in years bubbles to the surface, startling you so much that your voice cracks slightly as you reply, “Yes! I’d love to feel pain again. I’d love to feel anything!”

A smile spreads across his features, and his hands move to your shirt. “I’ll make you feel again,” he says as he pulls your shirt over your head and tosses it aside. “But it will only work if you want it.”

“I… I want it,” you say, realizing with some measure of shock that you’re already feeling emotions you thought long dead. 

He removes the rest of your clothes, leaving them strewn about the floor. Then he stands back to look at you. Completely bare before him, you don’t feel embarrassed. Shame is yet another emotion you can’t seem to feel anymore. But there is a strange prickling sensation on your skin as his eyes rake over you, taking in the scars that form a map of your suffering. 

“It’s like a work of art,” he says, his gaze lingering on the left side of your torso. The words make you feel something else, but you’re not sure what that is. Your own emotions have become unfamiliar to you. 

He leads you over to the X shaped table and lifts you onto it, then spreads you out on it like a meal. He slowly attaches the leather cuffs on each end to your ankles and wrists, still watching your face for any sign of fear. 

There is none. You’re starting to feel things for the first time in three years, but fear isn’t one of them. If he can bring back the girl you once were, one who could laugh and smile and feel, then you’ll accept anything he wants to do to you. 

Once you’re secured to the table, he stands back and unbuttons his shirt. When he slips it off his shoulders, you get a full view of the intricate tattoos on his body. They’re beautiful, the way they move and twist with his body’s motion. 

He steps back to the table and runs one large hand over your arm, trailing it down toward your chest, where he squeezes your scarred breast. You can’t feel it, so you don’t know if he’s squeezing hard or not, but when his fingers lightly slide over your nipple, a tingling sensation blossoms there. What was that? 

Did he notice that you felt something? You don’t think you visibly reacted in any way, but he’s smiling as if he knows. His fingers suddenly pinch your nipple, and you feel pressure, but little else. He maintains eye contact as he leans down and runs his tongue over that same nipple, then wraps his lips around it. You feel it again, that pleasant tingling. It reminds you of something, but you can’t remember what. 

His hand moves to your other breast, where his fingers grope and pinch. You feel this a little more, and your breathing quickens slightly. That’s when he stops abruptly and goes over to the wall again. This time he returns with a rolled up velvet pouch, which he unrolls to reveal a group of very long, very thin, shiny silver needles. 

He pulls one out and holds it up for you to see. “Let’s see how numb you really are,” he says. Then he grips your scarred nipple between his finger and thumb with one hand while using the other to bring the needle closer. He looks up at your face, perhaps still searching for a trace of fear. Finding none, he pushes the needle in, sliding it sideways through your flesh. 

Your breath hitches as a new sensation hits you. This… this is pain! You haven’t felt it in so long, you’d almost forgotten it. When he grips the other nipple, the one with no scar tissue to dull your senses, you almost flinch. He grins up at you, as if he’s reading your mind. He leans down and licks the nipple slowly, awakening it to sensation, before plunging the needle in. 

This time you gasp, your arms reflexively tugging on the restraints. You felt that! Not as keenly as a normal woman would, but far more than you’ve felt anything else in years. It hurt. It still hurts as his hand squeezes your breast, his tongue running over the needle imbedded in your skin. But you welcome the pain. It’s far more preferable to no feeling whatsoever. 

Then he steps back again, and walks around the table to the bottom, where he moves in between your widely spread legs. His hand moves to your pussy, kneading it gently for a moment before his fingers slip inside your folds, finding you clit. 

You draw in a sharp breath as he strokes it, feeling the pleasure so strongly that it’s almost as if you were never numb. Your previous owner had ignored your clit, having no interest in giving you pleasure, so these sensations were entirely new to you. 

When Sukuna uses his fingers to spread you open and leans forward to lick your quivering clit, your body nearly jerks off the table. He rises up and looks at you. “Not so numb down here, are you?”

You can only gasp out shallow breaths.  

His thumb begins stroking you again as he speaks. “I don’t care who your previous owner was.” He reaches over and pulls one more needle from the pouch, his tongue running over you again, making your nerves come alive. “I don’t care if you’ve had a thousand different owners before me.” His thumb and finger pinch your clit, holding it in position. Your heart races as you wait, now holding your breath. “Because now,” he says, gliding his tongue across the glimmering needle in his hand, “you belong to me.”

He pushes the needle into your clit from the bottom and out the top, so slowly that you feel every single bit of it. Your body bucks from the table, your arms and legs jerk against the cuffs, and a loud scream erupts from your mouth as you feel excruciating pain for the first time in three years. 

It’s wonderful. 

Tears spring to your eyes, and you cum on the spot, weeping and shuddering. You were certain you would never experience an orgasm again for the rest of your life, but here you were, riding out the insane pleasure while Sukuna’s tongue prodded your clit, licking over the needle stuck there. 

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

Sukuna watches his doll as she sleeps peacefully in his bed. She passed out not long after the “training session” was over, just as he was unfastening the cuffs on her wrists. He carried her to his bed and laid her there, and now he’s looking over her scarred form once more before covering her. 

He’s surprised by the progress they’d already made, but he can’t get too comfortable. 

Because he noticed it. When he pulled the needles out of her, which should have hurt, she didn’t even flinch. He’d squeezed one nipple afterwards, before beginning to uncuff her, just to test it. This should have made her scream, given how sore she should be, but she had no reaction at all. 

Meaning she’s numb again. The awakening of her senses was only temporary, and wore off after she came down from the high of her orgasm. 

Sukuna smiles. He certainly enjoys a challenge, and it’s clear to him that his job is far from over. 

Tag List:

@akaotv 

[burntheedges]

Pas de Deux Masterlist

Din Djarin x f!reader | 18+ | ~40k words | updates on Wednesdays main masterlist | ao3

summary: When Din Djarin – principal dancer at Concordia Ballet Company and generational talent in the classical style – suddenly left CBC and joined the Nevarro Ballet Theater mid-season, it shocked the ballet world. You never would have guessed that he would change your life, too.

full fic tags/warnings (spoilers!): modern AU, ballet AU, fluff, angst, flirting, dancing, lots of ballet terms (I’ll define things/link videos/etc. -- see below), misunderstandings, character study, romance, pet names (sweetheart, beautiful), lots of tension, later: smut, kissing, grinding, fingering, p-in-v sex, creampie, each chapter will have its own tags, Din lifts reader (see note below about reader)

a/n: welcome to the Din ballet fic!! I started writing this in April and it’s finally finished! I’ll post a new chapter every Wednesday, there are 14 total. There’s some smut coming but it’ll be a while, folks. See my notes below about reader in this fic and ballet in general. Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!! This fic is so much better because of you. 🧡 And thank you to @almostfoxglove for reading over it and confirming I didn't forget all my ballet, lol. 🩰

note about reader: in this fic you’re a ballet dancer, first soloist at Nevarro Ballet Theater company. I haven’t mentioned the reader’s body size or shape (or hair) basically at all, even to the point of avoiding clothing (except for costumes), but I understand the image that goes along with ballet – I danced for almost 20 years. Din does lift you many times. Please feel free to picture whatever you want, but I know that this might seem more limited. You also have a best friend named Adrian who is in the company with you. I never specified age, but to make first soloist most would be in at least their early 20s. Din is 27.

Chapter list and notes about ballet under the cut! Comment or reblog to join the tag list. 🥰🩰

Chapter List

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7 - coming Wed 11/27

...

some notes about ballet: I will share links to videos and such as much as possible, but here are some definitions to get us started – principal, (first) soloist, corps de ballet, variation, and class vs. rehearsal:

Principal - this is the highest level a dancer (of any gender) can reach in a company. Dancers are ‘promoted’ through the ranks. Principals usually have exceptional technique and artistry and can perform solos, pas de deux (partnering), headlining and/or the most challenging roles, etc. (e.g., the white (Odette) and black (Odile) swans in Swan Lake, both usually performed by one principal). Sometimes dancers are hired directly in as principals (like Din, in this fic). Smaller companies might have 5-6 principals, while larger ones could have as many as 20. Nevarro is somewhere between medium and large and has around 14 principals, including Din.

First Soloist - not every company has this rank, but it’s in between principal and soloist. Nevarro has 4 but they are counted among the soloists (12-14ish total). Soloists are often understudies for larger parts, and first soloists would do the same. In this fic reader is a first soloist, just promoted at the start of the season.

Soloist - this is sort of a middle level, for dancers who are doing very well and have proven themselves capable of taking on bigger roles. Many ballets have multiple roles, including supporting roles in the narrative, for soloists and principals to showcase many dancers’ talents. A smaller company might have 5-6 soloists, and a larger company might have as many as 20. (Larger companies also do more shows.) Nevarro is somewhere between medium and large and has around 12-14 soloists, including first soloists.

Corps de ballet - this is the lowest/starting level in a company. It’s where most would start from and has the largest number of dancers – these are the dancers who come out on stage in large groups or form the background unnamed roles in narrative scenes (like a party). Reader started in the corps and was promoted to soloist and then first soloist.

Variation - a solo dance, usually a piece from a larger ballet (e.g., the Sugar Plum Fairy in the Nutcracker). We say ‘variation’ because there are many ballets that have been choreographed differently by multiple people in the ballet world (e.g., there are famous versions of the Nutcracker by Petipa, Gorsky, Balanchine, Nureyev, Baryshnikov… and more). So there can be multiple variations of a solo from a single ballet, and more can be created or altered, etc. But in general the term just means solo.

Class vs. rehearsal - most companies distinguish between ‘class’ and ‘rehearsal’. Class is for the whole company and focused on improving technique. It’s quick and often repetitive and everyone sort of knows what to do. Most people would have ‘their’ spot at the barre and fall into a typical order for going across the floor. After class, most would go into multiple hours of rehearsal, PT, strength training, etc., depending on whether it was a performance day or not. Most companies are rehearsing for more than one performance at a time, so they might have a longer rehearsal for the show coming up this or next weekend, and a shorter one for another performance a bit farther away. But in the days leading up to a show, that show’s rehearsals would probably take over. This can vary by company. On show days, most would have fewer rehearsals with a 1-2 hour break before the call time to get ready.

Season - companies have 'seasons' which just refers to their plan for shows/schedule for the upcoming year. They might refer to like a fall season and a spring season, or the might have a full year schedule with different parts (fall/winter/spring), or they might have only a spring season that runs into early summer. It depends on the company and the size! In this fic Nevarro has a fall season and a spring season, but they tend to think about it as a full year for contracts/etc. They would have 3-4 big shows planned (think Nutcracker, Swan Lake, Giselle, Onegin, etc.) in each part of the season (so, 3-4 in fall and 3-4 in spring). And then they'd fill in the gaps in the schedule with "mixed programs", which are programs with multiple smaller ballets or pieces that feature a lot of dancers. So a mixed program might have a 20 minute Balanchine ballet, a pas de deux, a full corps piece from a larger ballet, and a piece for like 8 dancers. or something. Mixed programs are often when choreographers-in-residence and on staff get to debut their own work.

[destinationtoast]

Have you ever done an analysis of which fandoms are most dominated by a single ship?

I hadn't done so before. I just took a quick pass at doing so, but only among the biggest fandoms on AO3 as of Jan 2024 (ones with over 10K public works at that time). I sorted them by the size of their biggest ship relative to the size of the fandom. This gives us a bunch of very big fandoms with a high % of works tagged with a particular ship:

The raw data used to make this graph, including the corresponding biggest ships, is available in a spreadsheet here, or at the end of this post.

A few notes:

This is based on January 2024 data. Some things may have changed!

Not all these works are necessarily about these ships. Especially in the cases where the ships are canon, they may often be tagged as background ships.

There are undoubtedly many smaller AO3 fandoms that have higher percentages devoted to the top ship.

I removed some highly overlapping fandoms (e.g., Good Omens book fandom).

This is AO3 data only, and (as always!) AO3 does not represent fandom overall. In particular, ship popularity tends to vary A LOT by archive/platform. See some past cross-platform shipping comparisons from 2019 (comparing het vs. slash vs. gen on Wattpad/FFN/AO3), and 2014 (comparing popular ships from HP, SPN, and Sherlock on AO3/FFN). One highlight:

Raw data:

Fandom | Top relationship | % tagged with most common ship

Shameless (US) | Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich | 92.5%

Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF) | Dan Howell/Phil Lester | 92.1%

Good Omens (TV) | Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) | 83.8%

9-1-1 (TV) | Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) | 79.2%

Hannibal (TV) | Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter | 75.6%

Shadowhunters (TV) | Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood | 75.1%

All For The Game - Nora Sakavic | Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard | 75.0%

Inception (2010) | Arthur/Eames (Inception) | 74.0%

The Old Guard (Movie 2020) | Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova | 72.2%

Hawaii Five-0 (2010) | Steve McGarrett/Danny "Danno" Williams | 71.9%

The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare | Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood | 71.2%

IT (Movies - Muschietti) | Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier | 71.1%

陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) RPF | Wang Yi Bo/Xiao Zhan | Sean | 70.9%

X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies) | Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier | 69.6%

Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime) | Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov | 66.3%

Supernatural (TV 2005) RPF | Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki | 66.0%

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018) | Adora/Catra (She-Ra) | 63.9%

Deadpool - All Media Types | Peter Parker/Wade Wilson | 63.6%

The Witcher (TV) | Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion | 63.1%

Our Flag Means Death (TV) | Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet | 63.0%

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Had a terribly great thought! The Ghoul and reader traveling together. She's a brat but loyal as a dog to that man. They get into a pretty bad fight and she storms off and he's too proud to follow after her, struggling with coming to terms that he's actually soft for her even though he's mean as hell. She finds him some days later, with her tail tucked between her legs. He's not surprised, comparing her to a female dog often. 👀 still, he's going to make sure she's sorry. Lots of groveling on her part, maybe some face slapping, boot licking, he gets off, she doesn't. Ends with her in his lap. Hair petting and praise for coming back to who she belongs to.

As A Dog

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

Word Count: 7,085

Warnings: smut (18+), DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Jealous!Cooper, canon-typical violence, intimacy issues, angst, insecurity, slightly fucked conceptions of love and loyalty, pet play-ish activity, hard drug use, forced intoxication, shotgunning, slapping, boot licking, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, rough sex, riding, cannibalistic thoughts, orgasm denial (female), breeding kink, creampie.

Notes: I had several pieces in line in front of this one and then this prompt reached through my screen, sunk its teeth into my brain, and shook me until this came out. It really is a terribly great thought. Tagging heavy, since the themes/Cooper's mentality may be triggering for some. It is what it says on the can, folks.

I dunno what unholy demon you've unleashed on me here, Anon. But bless you for it. Another Coop POV because I have a problem. Thanks for the patience on this one; I've been doing some admin stuff the last few days, including setting up an AO3 that you can find here, where I'll be uploading all the long-form stuff. Enjoy!

Cooper's trigger finger was itchier today than it had been for a long time.

He was fully aware that he'd never be able to stop every man left in the world from talking to his little vaultie companion, but boy, he sure would love to try. On an average day, he struggled to hold his tongue as she drove away her own sun-baked suitors, standing silently aside until called up to defend her, no matter how badly he wanted to reduce whomever was bothering her to nothing.

Today was a worse-than-average day, and the girl wasn't helping anything, herself.

"Are you gonna be ready to go any time soon, princess?" he asked her acerbically as she passed by him for the millionth time, tossing his current cigarette down to the ground.

He'd intended to stop at this shitty little settlement, little more than a dingy bighorner ranch at first glance, for a few minutes at most, just long enough to unload some things and check to see if they had any vials on hand. Here it was, nearly four hours of glad-handing and chit-chatting and unnecessary gun repairs later, and he was still leaning against the same crumbing wall, still angrily smoking. She was pushing it.

"Oh, be patient." she shot back, rolling her eyes as she turned to saunter back to the little ramshackle counter. "I'm waiting for my gun back and I was having a nice chat with the mechanic. Try to be pleasant for five minutes, would you?"

She was so full of shit, he thought as he snuffed the still-glowing smoke butt out beneath the toe of his boot with just a little more force than necessary. Typically, she shied away from male attention at her most demure, refusing to acknowledge most advances, playing innocent, playing dumb. The big doe eyes and soft voice didn't hurt on that front, but usually didn't deter the more steadfast predators.

He preferred the days where she had a little extra spitfire, when she told them clearly and loudly to fuck off, no doubt emboldened by having the rather intimidating ghoul hanging over her shoulder, silently encouraging her as she did it. In the past, she had proven that she wasn't above evoking his capacity for violence as a threat when the desert trash was persistent, and it gave him a thrill he couldn't identify, one that ruminated deep in his gut.

That same gut feeling was burning him now, eating a hole in his patience as he watched her listening attentively to the third scrawny young man who'd approached her as she waited around the repair hutch to yap her ear off. She nodded and smiled politely, even laughed from time to time (the sound of which made him want to shoot he kid between the eyes just for that), but kept a respectful distance. Clearly, she'd finally learned that the sort of over-friendliness that she'd been raised with in the vaults could be read differently up here. The young buck, however, continued to try and dance into her space as he spoke animatedly, and, eventually, she reached out and quickly touched his chest.

The old cowboy was stomping across the sand to her before he was even aware he was moving.

His logical brain could see very clearly what had happened: the boy had advanced into her space for the half-dozenth time and she'd put her palm out to gently rebuke him, distracting him from the rejection with a laugh at whatever he'd said. But that part of his brain was rather quiet after a long afternoon of watching her rather blatantly flirt with the asshole she was having repair her plasma pistol (something that she would typically have him do, since it wouldn't cost her anything, and he almost certainly could do with equal or superior adequacy), and letting every other little piss-ant farmhand in the next mile radius chat her up.

"We're hitting the road in five. Get your shit and let's go." he hissed to her, ignoring the little scowl she shot him as he interrupted her newest conversation with the willowy, greasy mechanic, who was sliding her her pistol back across the knotted wood of the semi-exposed countertop. Flashing him that brilliant smile, the one that he wanted to be only for him, she checked the thing over before tucking it back into the holster she kept on her hip, pushing a stash of caps in a metal tin back his way. The old cowboy watched with inflamed indignation as the fucker opened the box, dug out a massive handful, and tucked them back into her hands, letting his own linger across her skin as he placed them back into her palms.

Frankly, he was impressed he was able to let her drop the things back into her bag before he grabbed her by the arm, none too gently, and wordlessly began to yank her back down the road, back in the direction they'd originally been heading in. He could've shoved the damn things in himself and just dragged her along; it wasn't like he was unfamiliar with where she put them. The long, sleepless nights could be boring, and early on, he'd been curious enough about her to nose through her things once or thrice. That, like this, had been quite illuminating.

"Oh, you're being such a prick today!" she yelled, yanking at his grip in an attempt to free herself. He humored her, dropping her arm and turning to face her, unpleasantly surprised as the last farmhand she'd been chatting with, the one she'd touched, came running up.

"Hey, leave her alone!" he yelled. Or, he would have, if he'd had a chance to finish.

The sound of Cooper's rifle butt cracking into the kid's face was incredibly satisfying, collapsing him into a limp, useless pile on the ground, deep crimson pooling around where he lie face-down in the dirt. The girl didn't scream, probably surprised that he hadn't outright shot him, but her hands did fly to her mouth in a quick moment of silent shock before she kneeled to quickly check his pulse, rolling his ugly mug to face the sun. Blood poured from his obviously broken nose, leaving the old ghoul wiping at his face to cover the smirk it sent twitching across his lips.

"What did you do that for?!" she demanded, frustration clear in her voice.

"Oh, my apologies, sweetheart. Your little boyfriend there was trying to join a party he wasn't invited to." he replied, though she was clearly ignoring him in favor of turning the boy onto his side and examining him.

His little companion let out a huff, casting a look between the body on the ground and the little cluster of buildings they'd just left. After a moment, she grabbed him by the fabric of his shirt the best she could and began to drag him back towards where he'd come from. The ghoul watched her pull him about five feet, red and huffing by the time she made it there, rolling his eyes deeply.

"Leave him. He'll be fine."

"He won't be if no one comes over to collect him soon, and you know it." she snarled, and her tone sent him seething, snatching the kid up over his shoulder like a sack of spuds and stomping ahead of her, depositing him unceremoniously against the ranch's handmade sign before yanking her along with him once again.

"Y'know, if you'd have just gotten in and out like I told you, that wouldn't have happened." he said eventually, dropping her arm once more.

"Oh, fuck you!" she hissed. "I was trying to see if I could talk him down on the price. And sometimes people know useful things, you know!" she yelled, exasperation clear in her tone as she threw her arms up in the air.

She pretended to be ignorant, but clearly knew what he was upset about before he specified. Interesting.

"Oh, I'm sure. Y'know, I'd wondered how long it was gonna take you to start sellin' that little ass of yours. Figured it would be for something nicer than a pistol repair or some bad intel, at least." he sneered. He could feel himself slipping further from rationality.

"What are you talking about? It wasn't even like that!" she insisted, an edge of something more worrisome creeping into her voice.

"Quit playin' dumb, doll. You make it seem too easy." he said, watching her entire face light up bright red in frustration. She was tersely quiet for a minute, the gears in her head clearly turning hard and fast as she worked to contain herself and formulate a response at the same time.

"I'm sick of you getting pissed off and treating me like I'm the stupidest person you've ever met." she spat, eventually, madder than he'd ever seen her. "I'm sorry that I haven't spent enough bitter fucking years walking around the desert and killing things and being an asshole to know everything like you do, Coop. I'm sorry I still have human emotions and desires. My sincerest fucking apologies."

That was it: the argument had officially become about...something else.

Honestly, he'd assumed that she was going to leave him a few days back, when they'd stayed in a rare hotel room waiting for a bad dust storm to settle, the little thing getting just a tad too tipsy on some whiskey he'd given her before trying to kiss him. He'd rebuffed her, though not as gently as he wished he had, and, feeling bold, she'd pushed back with surprising fervor, basically demanding to know why he wouldn't kiss her more, why he wouldn't sleep with her.

True, he felt closer to her than he'd felt to anyone or anything in a long while, and he thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, but, as embarrassing as it was, the idea of being expected to perform sexually so suddenly made him feel a seizing sense of panic that he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before.

What he'd wanted to say was "I care about you so much, but I'm not sure I'm ready to take that step." Instead, what had come out was "Why are you buggin' me about this? I said no. Fuck off." followed by him storming out to spend several hours smoking in the decrepit, junk-walled-in parking lot.

When he'd returned, she'd been asleep, her poor face tear-swollen and red. He'd waited for her to rouse and hash it out with him, but she'd slept through the night, and, the next morning, didn't bring it up or seem amenable to discussing it. She hadn't seemed angry, necessarily, perhaps a little sad, but in the few days that had passed since, she had definitely been colder, poutier than usual.

It seemed, to him, that she was punishing him now for not doing what she'd wanted, and it was pissing him off.

It didn't matter that he hadn't fucked her yet, that he didn't feel ready to expose the most vulnerable parts of him, inside and out, so openly. She was his; she belonged to him and she knew it as much as he did. The fact that she was even still traveling with him after all this time, after what happened at the hotel that night, was proof. She proved it every single time she came back from one of her little stomp-offs every time he ticked her off, lacking the wherewithal to ever even move fully out of sight before slinking down to pout awhile, inevitably peeking out from whatever she was hiding behind to see if he was still there. Despite her lack of proper training, she was a loyal little bitch.

The fact that she suddenly didn't want to act accordingly sat entirely wrong in his mind, wriggled under his skin like when his stash ran low.

"All's I'm saying, princess," he growled, throwing out the nickname he knew she loathed once more, "is that you're too fucking friendly for your own good, and you shouldn't be shocked when it gets people hurt."

"Why would you give a shit who I'm friendly to, anyway?" she spat, suddenly pushing her way right into his bubble and sending him baring his teeth.

"I wouldn't. Didn't I made that clear enough the other night?"

He knew that this particular barb would hurt her, but he genuinely didn't expect what she did next.

"Alright, then." she said; her voice was trembling noticeably, as was her lower lip. With that, she snatched her backpack up from the ground, jammed her arms into the straps, turned, and began to walk back towards the way they'd come from. He watched her silently, waiting for her to duck back into the ranch, but she didn't; instead, she kept walking, as long as he could watch her, until she disappeared over the hill that fed into the horizon.

The old man watched her go, dumbfounded as she actually continued to walk instead of stopping as she always did. For a while, he hung around, waiting for her to come huffing back, but she still hadn't by the time the sun had fully sunk out of the sky. Eventually, he resumed moving himself, stopping after about a mile in their original planned direction, settling down for a grating night of looking out over the road at every little noise.

She'd never even looked back. He couldn't shake that thought from his mind as he sat there resting overnight. It was basically the only thought he had for hours, plaguing him as he puffed his inhaler and watched the world around him brighten with the rising sun.

When the next day started in full, he'd resolved to hit the road, to resume his travels as he would be resuming his existence before the girl had come along. Compared to how long he'd been exploring the desert solo, she'd been but a brief blip in his life, and there was no reason to fret so much over where she'd gone or what could happen to her without him around.

For some reason, he only covered about half the ground he would typically cover on a day like this, and he found himself beyond unreasonably frustrated...with himself. Nothing about the conditions was slowing him down; he didn't run into more trouble than usual, and he was fine on supplies, vials, but for some reason he found himself hypervigilant, looking for any excuse to move up high and scan the road with his binoculars.

By the time it was too dark to safely continue, he was seething once again, but at his weakness, at his cowardice. After he chose a tucked away little corner to settle down in for a few hours, he quite literally couldn't dig into his stash fast enough, doing line after line, hit after hit of whatever he had on him, until the horrible pain he felt behind his breastbone melted away into a familiar, soothing numbness.

But his numb mind liked to wander, and soon he found himself thinking about the softness of her voice, her skin, her lips against his that night...

And, quickly, he was back to pain and anger, but an irrational anger fueled by a far-more than reasonable dose of basically every kind of stimulant known to Wasteland man. This pain, too, was chased away with more and more chems, until he was so fucked up that he could barely keep his eyes focused and open.

She truly did plague him now, just as she had all the months she'd traveled with him. She plagued his thoughts at all points in the day, plagued his worries about the future, and even as he attempted to snort and huff himself free of the thought of her, she plagued him, dancing up along beside him in a quiet, stalking creep, watching him daintily from the end of the rotted log he sagged himself on, his back wedged against the large rock cluster behind him. At some point, he'd tugged his gloves off and shucked them somewhere nearby, leaving him feeling quite naked as his hands fretted with themselves absentmindedly. Against his will, he thought about running them through her hair like he'd wanted to for so long, and the unpleasant flip his stomach did made him sigh.

"I'm sorry." came a voice on the breeze, so much like hers. The visions of her were persistent, annoyingly so, the one staring hauntingly at him from the side really starting to unsettle him. He was no stranger to visual and auditory hallucinations when he was this far gone, but she was so solid-looking out of the corner of his eye, watching him so close. Judging him and what a fuck-up he was.

He squeezed his eyes shut hard, willing her away, willing himself to go back a few days and redo this entire thing differently.

"Aren't you...gonna say anything?" came the soft, timid voice once more, this time from beside him. Firmer, realer.

He narrowed his eyes in her ghostly direction, focusing as best as he could on her blurry, swimming visage.

"Huh. Didn't know that was really you."

When had she arrived, exactly? Fuck, he was dangerously gone if she'd been able to sneak up on him like that.

She frowned at that, leaning close and sizing him up with worrying eyes. Gingerly, she placed her palm on the back of his bare hand.

"Jeez, Cooper. How fucked up are you?" she asked, her tone sincere, almost apologetic.

Her glaring worry burned into him as judgment, harsh and stinging, and he struck out in response, yanking his hand away.

"Mind your fuckin' business." he slurred, forcing himself to sit up straight enough to point his full anger in her direction, growing with each passing moment. "Think you're better'n me? Hmm?"

He'd fully expected this to ignite another yelling match between the two of them, but she didn't scream back; instead, she quietly dropped her head, avoiding his eyes as she gazed around where he'd chosen to bed down. Truly, he was quite impressed she'd managed to find him at all, let alone in the dark. Turns out he was rubbing off on her even more than he'd thought. The idea left him bitter.

A big part of the anger he felt, the ugliest, most violent part, was the Jet; he knew this. The stuff had gotten him into more than his share of scuffles through the years, making him even meaner than usual, his sharp tongue exact and piercing. However, beneath the amphetamine fog, there was a nugget of true bitterness, an open wound of insecurity that pained him into lashing out when she tried to come close. He'd lashed out in such a way that night at the hotel, despite how hard he'd tried to hold back his sour words.

There was a fear there that he'd felt before, but never so strongly as when he'd watched her disappear over that hill. If she'd tried to leave over that relatively small argument, when would she try to leave again? He wasn't a pleasant man to be around, even when he actually tried to be, a lot of the time. Hell, he wasn't even pleasant to look at; if he'd been a giant prick in his old life, at the very least, he had been handsome.

Increasingly, since she'd come into his life, he tried to reach deep, deep into himself and pull out whatever remained of the old him, the one who was kind and hopeful and actually knew how to talk to women, but the process was infinitely more difficult and painful than he'd imagined.

She clearly wanted and needed intimacy from him, on more than one front, and the pressure of feeling like he couldn't give her what she needed was increasingly getting to him in a way that embarrassed him more than he could possibly say (not that he'd ever say it out loud). Centuries of time had passed, and yet, here he was, still dealing with the same anxieties and feelings of inadequacy that he had before, just dressed up in a new, uglier face.

When would he finally succeed in pushing her away, in frightening her away from him 'for her own good'? The walls around him had never failed him before, for better or worse.

Things were quiet between them as she fidgeted in her spot, the tension of an inescapable conversation in the air, but the desert's constant score, the hiss of sand across corroded asphalt, the soft rattle of the wind in the rocky hills, played on. His muddled ears played tricks on him, making him hear murmurs and distant gunshots and the crack of his rifle butt into that farmhand's face, but he tuned them out, focusing on her steadying, but increasingly heavy breathing, his eyes unable to leave her mouth..

He let himself drink in the fact that she really was there, sat on her knees in the dirt before him and already begging him for his forgiveness, for his acceptance; corporeal, flesh and blood and her sweet smell and that wet, warm place between her legs. Only in his drug-induced private fantasies had he felt it, but he knew he wanted to bury himself there, as deep as possible, and never let her pull away.

"I really am sorry, Coop." she whispered, those big, round eyes brimming with big, wet tears. It wasn't difficult to see her sincerity, even as he struggled to focus. But that hot coal of bitter anger still smoldered in his gut; not replaced by the lust he felt, but fed by it.

Slowly, his own movements labored under the weight of too many substances, he reached out and ran the thumb of his sullied glove along her smooth, smooth cheek. Smearing the trail of wetness there until he was tracing the outline of those pouty lips, he pushed it into her mouth.

"Prove it."

She let out a pitiful little retch, though whether it was from the taste of the incredibly filthy material, or because he was shoving her tongue back in her throat and gagging her with it, he didn't know. What he did know was that the sound made his cock twitch, which was already more blatant sexual desire than he'd felt in ages.

"How?" she asked, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand as he pulled his own away. The wetness that trailed from his thumb, from her lips, made him feel feverish, and he quickly knotted his hand into the thick, soft hair at the back of her head, yanking her so close that their noses would've been touching, had he still had one. When her wide eyes met his, not so much as a sound escaping her lips at the sensation in her scalp, he finally gave in and harshly mashed his mouth to hers, swallowing the sigh that escaped her as he did.

Cooper was unsure how long they kissed, how long he plundered her swollen, eager mouth with his tongue before she stumbled onto her knees, pulling back slightly to pull air into her lungs. As she hovered there, eyes closed as she attempted to gather herself, he dug deep into the pocket of his duster and withdrew a Jet container, giving it a shake to prime it as she righted her breathing. Once she was steady once more, he cupped the back of her head again, bringing her to him and lifting it to her mouth. There was hesitation in her eyes, then disgust as the chem filled her lungs. It touched him with a twinge of amusement, knowing how badly the stuff tasted, watching her retch harder than before. He let her cough for a few seconds, allowing her a few half-cocked breaths of air before shoving the thing back between her lips and holding it down even longer.

By the time she managed to stop sputtering and drooling, he'd had a hit of his inhaler and started stroking his increasingly hard cock through his pants, watching her closely as she raised her now bleary, glassy eyes towards him. He waited for her to mouth off, to complain, to remark on anything that had happened, but instead, she sat there, unmoving, waiting for his instructions. She was the picture of obedience, but nevertheless, he could still see that glint of outrage behind her gaze, waiting to argue with him the moment she sensed an opportunity.

It pissed him off more than he thought possible, and, before he could even think to stop himself, he lashed out and slapped her across the face, the blow landing squarely in the center of her cheek and making her head turn away from him slightly. Surprising him again, she didn't make a sound, but she also didn't correct her head to look back at him.

Pulling a long drag off of the Jet inhaler himself, he held it deep in his lungs as he grabbed her by her long hair to kiss her again, exhaling the stuff right down into her lungs. She kissed him back until she choked on the sensation, leaning away to spew and cough more.

"Wanna prove you're sorry?" he hissed, his brain buzzing with the fresh hit as she leaned against his knee. "Clean my boots, vaultie. Show a little humility for once in your life."

His words were mean, meaner than he should be right now, but she didn't seem to register their full weight as she struggled to focus her eyes on the boots in question. When she lifted those dark, glassy pools back to his, he could see she knew what he meant, a heavy blush staining her cheeks and neck. Of course she knew what he meant; she was a smart girl, and her brain worked so much like his, even if she wouldn't freely admit it.

She looked up at him so dreamily through those thick lashes, though whether it was real affection in her eyes or simply the haze from all the Jet he'd forced down into her lungs, he couldn't tell.

In truth, his boots weren't as filthy as they could've been, as he'd cleaned the farmhand's blood off of them the night she'd taken off to get rid of the smell. But it wasn't about cleanliness; no, she'd humiliated him, her and her spoiled, entitled vault-dweller attitude, when she ran off, and he wanted to see her humiliate herself a little in kind.

The woman kneeling before him didn't hesitate as much as he'd thought she would, the red outline of his palm and fingers seeming to glow on her cheek in the dying firelight as she cast a vaguely-seeing glance around her, measuring her space before pulling herself into a sort of downward dog position, her round ass in the air as her marred cheek rested softly on the sandy ground. There was a moment of quiet tension as she seemed to study it, planning her approach before rather timidly leaning forward and running her tongue along the side, swiping a clean stripe across the tarnished black material from ball to toe. She gagged at first, likely from the dryness of the dust, but, again, she didn't complain.

He didn't have to tell her to clean the other boot; she did it with no prompting as soon as the first was finished, gagging less as she ran her pretty pink tongue all along the sullied, scuffed leather, and he couldn't believe how much it turned him on while equally failing to quell his indignation, his disappointment. Before she'd really finished her work, he yanked her up by her hair again; this time, she let out a slight yelp of surprise as he dropped her onto her ass, gesturing to her shabby, scavenged armor with one hand as the other began to wrestle his ammo belt, then his actual belt, open.

"Take that shit off."

Again, she did as he asked with only a moment's pause, placing all the little pieces of boiled leather and metal off to the side, her eyes flitting to him for a heartbeat before she proceeded with the rest of her clothes, quickly exposing herself completely. He could see her well in the moonlight, but not as well as he'd have liked, leaving her standing there, vulnerable and shivering ever-so-slightly as he took a good, long look at her. He was painfully hard at this point, desperate to have at least some minor relief from the confines of his trousers, but he was also uncharacteristically nervous at the idea of exposing himself to her this way. Beckoning her forward, he used her distraction as she kneeled once more to pull his cock free, grateful for the darkness and her weaker eyes.

"Suck me." he growled.

While he wasn't exactly pleased at how entirely fucked up he'd been going into this, he was sort of grateful that he couldn't feel almost anything with any vivid detail across the expanse of his body; the visual of her wrapping her dainty little fingers around him and obediently leaning down to take him into her mouth alone would have been enough to finish him if he'd have been able to feel her properly.

The way she went about it also seemed to indicate she wasn't entirely experienced, simply sliding her mouth down over his cock and setting to finding a pace that she could handle, as everything was surely spinning for her. For a while, he let her do so, fingers knotting into her hair again, before his patience wore thin and he began to push her head downwards, the sound of her gagging once more sending a thrill up his spine. Even with the numbness from the most recent hit seeping through him, he wasn't able to keep it up long before he yanked her back, taking in the drool hanging down from her swollen lips.

Cooper gave his spit-slicked cock a few firm tugs, hissing from between his worn teeth at her as he sat back, making room for her on his lap.

"Now get up here and show me you know who you belong to."

She didn't even look towards her bag, towards the condoms he knew she kept tucked deep inside her little toiletry pocket, as she quickly and sloppily pulled herself up into his lap. A part of him knew that he'd have stopped her if she did try to put one on him.

He tried so hard to not think of Barb as the pretty young thing on top of him began to sink down and envelop his cock in her heat, tried so hard to not feel guilty for giving himself to another, and he failed miserably. She felt heavenly, tighter and warmer and sweeter than he could've ever imagined, and he hated himself for how much he loved it, for how alive it made him feel when for so long he'd simply been existing. The choked noise that left his dry throat as the aching head of him fully breached her wasn't a sob, but he wouldn't have known what to call it.

It must've seemed to her, he thought, that he was forcing her to do all the work out of anger, wanting her to fully prove that she wanted him, that she was his; this was true, but he was also terrified, deep down, of how he would react if he allowed himself to freely touch her the way he wanted. He feared he would literally rip her limb from limb in his intoxicated state, sink his teeth into her pillowy flesh until it bled, tear a chunk off of her and swallow it so that she could be part of him forever.

He couldn't tell if the way she huffed and whimpered her way down his length was because she was high and hypersensitive or because she'd never been with a man this way before. That thought was quickly and harshly banished from his brain, however, his hands finding the plush fat of her hips, fingertips digging hard into the soft, supple flesh.

"Good pup." he breathed out when he eventually felt her ass rest on his thighs, fully sheathing him inside her.

The whimper she let out in response, her tight little clasp quivering around him as she clumsily reached out and braced her hands on his shoulders, made him throb hard, leaving him at least slightly grateful for his intoxication once again. If his numbed brain and body had been able to feel her fully, he knew he would've absolutely shot his load already.

Cooper struggled to stay still as she moved experimentally on top of him, lifting and lowering and grinding herself a few different ways before she found a rhythm that made him let out a throaty moan, the ghost of a smile flashing across her sleepy face as she rode away at him for a while.

What he really wanted, deep beneath all the unwanted feelings and unanswered questions about things he didn't want to think about right now, was to knock her up. For so long now he'd thought of her as his, and now that he'd claimed her, he wanted nothing more than to see her round and full to the brim of him. He wanted her to need him, to be completely dependent on him to provide for her and keep her safe.

He wanted her too vulnerable to get away from him.

On top of him, her movements were rapidly losing all coordination as her glossy, heavy eyelids drifted shut, her head nodding violently as she struggled to maintain her pace. He'd given her too much for someone who didn't use regularly, someone her size, and she was crashing out, falling asleep against her will right there. Poor thing.

He slapped her again, the sound ringing out across the vast, empty desert, watching closely as she startled back into a fully upright posture, her hips stilling for a moment before slowly beginning to churn again, her gaze unfocused.

"Mmm." she murmured groggily, leaning forward and placing her forehead against his shoulder, her arms winding around his neck as she tried her best to keep in some sort of motion.

This gesture, the way she cuddled up to him and sought comfort, support from him, even after the way he'd treated her, the fact that he'd literally just slapped her awake, was the only thing she'd done thus far that truly quelled the ugly, raging anger inside him.

"Thought this stuff was s'posed to wake you up." she sighed into the crook of his neck. She was entering the peak of her high, her body pitifully liquid against his chest as she clearly struggled to stay upright.

Personally, Cooper was reaching the un-fun part of his comedown, where everything started to feel grating and the mind began to uncloud, providing an increasingly painful level of clarity, but the senses remained muddled in a way that provided more discomfort than relief.

"Usually does. You had too much, baby." he responded, the mild chastisement in his tone doing a poor job of hiding the guilt behind it. His naked hands stroked reverently at her back, at the long, wind-swept hair that flowed down it, mindful to hold her so that she wouldn't lilt too far to one side as he attempted to soothe her.

Familiar with the unpleasant swimming sensation too much Jet could give you, he let her relax fully against him, the small sigh she let out one of gratitude as her whole body sagged even further. But she didn't stop grinding against him, probably out of some sort of pleasure for herself, he figured as he could feel her greedy insides tugging around him. He hid his grin again, this time in the crook of her neck as his hands found her hips once more, easily lifting her a few inches before dropping her down again, bouncing her on his cock as she rested.

Things went on like that for a spell, him bobbing and rocking her naked, lax body on top of his as she curled up on his shoulder, cooing and nodding off from time to time. As his high wore off, the sensitivity in his body was returning, and it made her feel more and more overwhelming as he continued to fuck her, her hot, wet little cunt leaking all over him as he continued to use her body to get himself off.

She seemed to be more conscious now than before, though barely, jostled awake by the increasing force of his thrusts up into her, bare breasts heaving with the movement. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to trace his lips down her chest, sealing them around her puffy, erect nipple and swiping his tongue along her slightly salty flesh. In response, her arms tightened around his neck, holding him on her breast as she clenched around him hard.

"Cooper." she whimpered, and that single little sound pushed him right into what felt like the most powerful orgasm he'd ever had, his fingers digging into her hips far too hard as he dropped her full weight onto him, grinding her down onto his cock and yanking her against him. His head dropped back, dead weight as he let out a feral snarl, tapering off into a throaty moan.

As he throbbed his gift up inside her, she squirmed at the feeling, tucking her bright red face into the side of his neck in what read as slight embarrassment, giving little huffs and whimpers as he continued to fill her. Another, smaller wave of guilt nagged at him as she clung to him, as he held her as close as he possibly could, struggling to regain control of his breathing; even if she'd had sex before, she'd never done this.

He held her as long as she could tolerate, her grip around him loosening slowly as she moved closer to real sleep. His girl was exhausted through and through, lightly snoozing against his chest.

For a few minutes, he let her rest uninterrupted, scanning her over to assess how badly he'd fucked up. She seemed fairly intact, though certainly more bruised than before. Eventually, he went digging into her bag, knowing (hoping) that she would have Radaway somewhere, and letting out a small sigh of relief when he found some jammed into the bottom.

Only one dose; he would have to find her more, and soon. This would be enough to see her through the next day, though, and he was pleasantly surprised to note that she wasn't showing even minor signs of radiation sickness as he found a vein in her arm, starting up the intravenous line to administer the thick, yellowed solution. Surprisingly, she didn't rouse fully when he slid the included needle into place, but she did begin to stir and groan mildly as the stuff began to effuse. Dimly, he remembered being given it when he'd been in the service, and how shitty it could make you feel.

Softly, he stroked her cheek with the backs of his bare knuckles before setting to jabbing her with a Stimpak from his bag around where she'd stuck some staples in her belly, making a note to ask her what had given her the several inches-long laceration he saw there.

He hesitated, though, when he moved to give her a dose of Med-X he'd dug out from the depths of his saddlebag. Most of the Wasteland's mind-rotting and pain-soothing substances were on the table for him, and in great amounts, but he hated the way the opiate made him sluggish and sleepy, reducing his accuracy in a fight significantly. The pain relief it provided wasn't worth it if he ended up dead anyway.

Smoothskins loved it, though, so he usually kept a few syringes on him for bartering purposes. Never did he think he'd be happy to give so much of his stash away for free.

He knew she must be hurting, or, she would be when she woke up, whenever that was. But he was hesitant to give her anything else, both for fear of how she would react, and, somewhat selfishly, because he knew a proper dose would make her sleep even longer, and he was desperate to actually get to speak with her again.

If she asked for the stuff, he'd give it to her. But...tomorrow. After they'd gotten a chance to discuss everything that had happened with cooler, more sober heads. After he was sure she wouldn't wake up in the morning and hate him for what he'd done to her.

His fingers played softly in her mussed hair as the indigo cover of night faded into the periwinkle of twilight, washing her nearly grey in his arms. She slept hard awhile, undisturbed until the awkward angle of her neck made him gently resettle her into a more comfortable-seeming position, letting her slip down until she was curled up in a ball on her side in his lap, her head supported in the crook of his elbow. Lying this way, he'd have to hold her up while she slept, but he found himself strangely excited at the prospect.

"M'sorry I ran away." she murmured suddenly after a long period of silence, readjusting herself in his lap to curl closer.

"I know, kid. I forgive you." he replied after a moment of hesitation, the words soft and strange as they formed on his lips. He petted her hair as gently as he could manage. "Did a good job findin' your way back to me, pup. Proud of you."

"Mmm. Please don't be mad at me." she echoed his own thoughts softly, so slurred as she finally began into unconsciousness that it was barely intelligible, her face buried in his side.

"I'm not." he said, fully, completely honest for once in his long life. He let his eyelids rest, his hand on his gun, ready to stop anyone who would try to ruin this quiet moment under the fading stars. "I promise. Now, get some sleep, pup. I know you came a long way today."

She sighed at that, as if to say "You have no idea." before flopping loosely into his arms, and was snoring lightly within a minute. He allowed himself a small smile at this, at how earnest and adorable she was.

"Good girl." he murmured.

[sh1-n0bu]

head empty no thoughts only sub heizou

♡︎ 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚’𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠 ♡︎

characters: sub!heizou x nb!dom!reader

warnings: praise, degrading, exhibitionism, overstimulation, dacryphillia, dumbification, size kink, fingering, cock can be read as a strap on bc i want everyone to feel included in wanting to fuck their fav character silly😌

notes: HEAVILY inspired by that one ☝️ heizou bday art. i swear i’m not dead y’all

“doing detective’s work means you gotta walk the walk. no… i mean literally - i need to search high and low for evidence” a quote often said by your loving partner whenever inquired about his work addiction. but he never thought that you would use it against him like this!

biting down on his bruised lips, the detective tried to muffle his whimpers as he felt your fingers scissoring him open under the large pine tree. it was dark and quiet outside in the small forest right over the borders of inazuma city, so any noises he makes could easily be heard all around the place.

at first, heizou only decided to let you tag along because he needed to find some information or any leftover evidence from the most recent criminals going around and terrorizing the people on the way to inazuma city. and yet here he was now, shorts discarded on the grass, pinned against the tree for coverage that he whined for with your large frame holding him close.

“mmngh…! h-hey… can’t we just go back home? and cont-mmph! continue things there?” trying to muffle his tiny noises of pleasure, heizou buried his face into the crook of your neck as his hands claws at your clothes.

fuck, he knew you were bigger than him in every way but archons he never knew you were just this large. just two of your fingers were enough to turn the most sharpest of the tenryou commission into a pathetic whining mess.

a sudden cry escapes his lips as his smaller body jolts, the familiar feeling of his prostate being prodded over and over suddenly taking over as his mind slowly turns into a mush. white being the only thing he sees as his hips buck weakly against your hold, desperately chasing after his orgasm with his legs wrapped tightly around your hips.

“m-more… feels good. feels good feels goodfeelsgood♡︎!” slurring his words, the detective continues to chase after his orgasm, unknowing to the cruel grin you had on your face. just as he was about to cum, the feeling of suddenly being empty takes ahold of him as a disappointed whine spills out. bucking his hips to try and force your fingers back inside his gaping hole, heizou clenches around nothing but thin air as tears of frustration starts to well in his pretty jade eyes.

but the feeling of desperation, frustration and growing urge gets overridden by the feeling of the tip of your cock being placed over his hole. butterflies fluttering about in his stomach, his own smaller cock hard and angry red, heavy breathing with flushed cheeks and mushed mind eagerly pushing himself back into your strap - archons heizou can really be a good puppy when trained can’t he?

a long drawn whine escapes the back of throat, only your tip was in and the detective can just feel his mind breaking from the sheer girth. jade eyes rolling to the back of his skull, the doushin willed himself to push himself more into your cock. he can take it! he’s done it before, he’s sure he can take it!

“aww, that desperate for me already puppy?” wrapping both hands tightly around his tiny waist, you helped him ease your cock into himself. a feeling of arousal and wanting to corrupt him swirling as a cute tiny bulge starts to make it’s way visible as he takes in only half of your strap.

the feeling only grew more and worsened as heizou nods eagerly. the tears that were welling in his eyes now starting to fall as he starts to sob in a hushed manner while blabbering on and on about how he can take you under his breath.

“how cute. if only the tenryou commission knew that their most intelligent doushin was a stupid cock drunk whore” the degrading word only caused him to sob louder. archons, he was sure he could take it but now a sliver of doubt was starting to swirl in his stomach alongside arousal. a sudden thought of you breaking him crosses his mind as heizou gets another spark of determination. as dark as it sounds, the detective couldn’t help but want to be broken by you.

“i am! i am your stupid cock drunk who-oooughhh♡︎♡︎” slurring over his words, heizou starts to bounce on your strap sloppily. but with how badly his legs were shaking with his eyes rolled to the back of his skull alongside the cute belly bulge being visible, it was more of a grinding rather than riding.

squeezing at his waist in a possessive way, you start to guide him to actually ride himself on your cock. when you pulled him up almost halfway out and slammed him back down, the doushin’s former muffled noises turns into loud raunchy noises of pleasure. not really a sob but not entirely a moan either - just a pathetic mess of slurred noises as he feels your tip abuse his prostate over and over with shaking hands clawing at your shoulders.

“shhh… a bit more quiet now puppy. wouldn’t want people to know what we’re doing right?” at your words, heizou only manages to nod dumbly. nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck once again, the detective sobs as his slit squirts out a translucent colored cum without him knowing.

[thefallennightmare]

Just Pretend-twenty

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: We worked so fucking HARD on this! Please appreciate it and please 🙏 pay attention to everything.

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid @casangel1986 @qualityvoidcollectorsblog @myownthoughts12 @jilliemiw86 @bellaboo967 @halloweenaesthetic

NOAH

I stood in front of the mirror, straightening out my shirt, and made sure my hair was perfectly pulled back into the low bun. Excitement filled my veins, making me jittery, knowing that Y/N would be showing up shortly. We all were ready to help her and Malcolm set up for Chase’s surprise birthday party. 

Y/N had been texting me the last couple of days stressing out about every last-minute detail for this party. Chase was never big on celebrating his birthday but he was turning twenty-five so she and Malcolm wanted to make sure that everything went off without a hitch tonight. 

I also was nervous to see Y/N again after our conversation at Davis’ house the other night because she knew the truth; most of it anyway. Bailey and I were done, something Y/N knew. But with the stress of the party, we couldn’t continue our conversation from the other night. 

The nerves were eating away at me, like a disease, so I started pacing in front of the mirror, trying to hype myself up. I woke up anxious this morning and even after meditating earlier, I still couldn’t get rid of this feeling. 

I pinched my cheeks and smiled. 

“Hi Y/N,” I said to myself. 

No, I sound like an idiot. 

“Hi, angel. You look gorgeous today.”  

Eh, a little bit better. 

I continued to pace back and forth in my room, muttering words under my breath. 

 “Hi, angel. You look beautiful today. I’m happy to have the party here.”

My feet came to a halt as I snorted to myself. “I’m happy to have the party here. Who the fuck says that? That’s so stupid. It’s just Y/N; her. Why am I overthinking talking to her?”

I get those ridiculous butterflies, even in my current state. It’s like being in a botanical garden, waiting for them to emerge. Waiting for Y/N at any stage feels like that. 

“Shit, that’s corny isn’t it?” I muttered under my breath as I ran a hand over my face. 

Another thing I suppose I’ve noticed about myself all this time lately. Growth in words- is this maturity? A grown man with grown feelings. 

I often saw my future as not so bright and wasn’t sure if this thing called life would work out. So, I stood here in front of the mirror in my bedroom and thought that maybe this life that I yearned for would work out and Y/N possibly, maybe, needed to be included in it. 

With a final deep breath, I threw on my leather jacket and then checked myself over in the mirror one last time. The black shirt underneath the jacket was pristine, not a hint of hair or lint, and my white wash skinny jeans had a hole in the knee showcasing the rose tattoo. 

Y/N would be here any minute. My mind went straight to what she looked like, what she’d be wearing, and how badly I wanted her perfume to penetrate my senses.

As I bounded down the first set of steps, I turned on the landing to retreat down the rest of the stairs but came to a halt when her presence was immediately felt. In the threshold stood Malcolm and Y/N, talking with Jesse who answered the door. The bright smile on her face made my stomach twinge in a good way as my breath caught in my throat. 

Her long hair fell to the middle of her back in waves. The black dress hugged every one of her curves in all the right places, stopping right beneath her ass. Her tattoos were on full display tonight. The swell of her breasts poked through the mesh part of her dress that covered her neck and chest.

I wasn’t sure if Y/N having a glowing halo effect was normal, hence why the nickname I had for her only made sense.

Angel. 

It began to feel like she was specifically meant to shine for me alone, a long time ago, even with that time we were distant. I couldn’t possibly imagine another man seeing it or enjoying the warmth Y/N brought. My palms were sweating, I knew this had to be it. I had to make the move.

“You’re such a sweet talker, Jesse,” Y/N giggled while playfully rolling her eyes, tapping his cheek twice.

As I took the last step, stepping into the living room, something fell from her bag causing her to bend over to pick it up. Orie snuck up beside me and tilted his gaze toward Y/N’s ass; something I noticed immediately. 

“Orie,” I seethed low. 

His eyes snapped over to me, a sly smirk on his lips. “Y/N looks good, huh?” 

My jaw ticked but I let out a deep breath while counting to my ten in my head. 

I’m not mad. It’s innocent. It’s Orie, he knows how I feel about Y/N.

As Y/N stood tall, a bright shine from around her neck caught my attention, and gone was the anger replaced with sheer adoration. She was wearing the necklace and bracelet I bought her for her birthday. 

My heart skipped a beat as our eyes finally locked. 

“Hi,” Y/N smiled warmly. 

“Hi, angel.” 

I shifted on my feet, suddenly hot under her bright gaze. She looked absolutely breathtaking in that dress and how it hugged her tits perfectly made my cock throb in my jeans.  She softly tucked a strand behind her ear and our eyes never left each other. Malcolm looked between us, a sly smirk on his lips. 

“Y/N, why don’t you hand me the bags? I’ll start getting things set up while Noah gives you the tour,” Malcolm said while taking the bags of party supplies from her. 

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Sure.” 

As she walked past me, the scent of her perfume filled my senses and my cock now ached when I remembered how pretty she looked while sitting on top of me, her hands grasping my braids. 

“Oh, you smell good,” Y/N smiled up at me as I began leading her to the kitchen so she could set down the rest of the bags Malcolm couldn't carry. 

My cheeks warmed and I rubbed the back of my neck. “Thanks-uh, so do you.” 

“Let me take those from you,” Jolly smiled while giving Y/N a friendly kiss on her cheek. 

“Thank you, Jolly.” She smiled. “Did we get enough alcohol? I ordered the pizzas but I won’t have time to pick them up. Oh shit, I forgot to buy cups!” 

Y/N went to turn on her heels but I gently grabbed her shoulders to keep her in place in front of me, her back to my chest. 

“You need to relax, angel. You're trying to control so much of this party. Let us help you,” I rubbed out the tense muscles in her shoulder. 

“I just want to make things perfect for Chase,” she relaxed in my embrace. “The last few years of his birthday have been filled with unnecessary drama.” 

My nose brushed along her hairline. “It will be fine. Davis will pick up the pizzas and we’ll have Nick buy the cups.” 

“Someone has to pick up Chase. If I go, he’ll be able to read me and know something is up,” Malcolm said while unloading all the party supplies. 

“Fuck, I can’t. My car is filled with the balloons,” Y/N tensed under my touch so I was quick to offer a solution. 

“Okay, so this is what we will do. Davis will pick up the pizzas. Nick will stop at the store to buy the cups. Michael and Orie are in charge of setting up the alcohol. Jolly and Jesse, you guys figure out the music. Folio will pick up Chase. Those two can talk about drums or cymbals.” 

Y/N instantly relaxed once again and leaned her head against my shoulder. “Matt is picking up the cake.”

My hands rubbed her arms. “See? We have everything figured out. There’s no need to stress, angel.” 

“I know,” she let out a deep breath. “Thank you guys for letting us have the party here. It’s a nice place, lots of space. ” 

Michael chuckled while setting up the makeshift bar on the kitchen island. “You’d think so with the five of us but I’m starting to think we’re out-growing this place.” 

“Soon, it’ll be four of you. I move out at the end of the month,” Orie said as he walked into the kitchen, giving Y/N and Malcolm a fast fist bump. 

“Oh, that’s right. With the Mrs,” Jesse smirked. 

Orie rolled his eyes with a small smirk. “She’s not the Mrs. Yet.” 

Y/N watched my roommates bicker back and forth with a bright smile which in turn, made me hold onto her a bit tighter, not wanting to let her go. From day one, she always fit in with us, never once feeling left out. Everyone welcomed her with open arms and for that, I’ll always be grateful for that. 

“Angel,” I said into her hairline.

Y/N eyes sparkled as she gazed up at me, a loose strand of silky hair fell into her face, so I brushed it away and let my finger graze over her cheek. 

“Hm?” Her voice was quiet. 

“Let me show you upstairs,” my voice matched hers.

The corner of her lips lifted in a smile. “I’d love that.” 

As the others chatted amongst themselves, I led Y/N back to the living room, hand now on her back, and as we reached the stairs Bryan walked through the front door with Matt. 

“Hi!” Y/N smiled and stepped away from my embrace to give them their own separate hugs. “Malcolm is in the kitchen, he can show you guys where to set everything up.” 

Matt smiled while letting his hand rest in the middle of her back. “You look beautiful, Y/N.” 

I kept a watchful gaze on her, even though there wasn’t a need to.

“Oh, such a sweetheart,” she playfully pinched his cheeks. “You forgot to grab the cake didn’t you?” 

“Don’t worry,” he waved her off. “Davis will pick it up on his way over here; after he gets the pizza. I already texted him.” 

Rolling her eyes, Y/N turned her attention to Bryan. “Did you bring it?” 

He held up his camera bag. “Everything is ready to go.” 

“Awesome,” she clapped her hands with excitement. 

“What are you planning?” I questioned while crossing my arms over my chest. 

Y/N merely shrugged with a coy smirk. “Oh, nothing. Now are you going to finish giving me the tour or what?” 

I held out my arm towards the staircase on my left. “After you, angel.” 

Her heels clicked against the hardwood floor only to be muted by the carpet on the stairs and I followed close behind her, Matt’s voice calling after us. 

“Leave the door open, you two!” 

Without Y/N seeing, I flipped off Matt and then led her down the long hallway, telling her whose room was whose. She walked in front of me, her scent filling my senses the entire time, and my hands ghosted over her hips as I led her to the last door on the left.

“Welcome to my abode! Mi casa su casa and all that shit,” I said as we came to a stop. 

Y/N giggled. “And you said you couldn’t speak Spanish.” 

“I tried, gave up,” I chuckled, now grasping her hips from behind. 

With her standing in front of me, I stuck my arms over her shoulders to reach for the doorknob. But before I opened the door, I rested my chin on her shoulder, and Y/N immediately relaxed in my embrace. 

“This is my room,” I breathed against the crook of her neck. 

I saw her skin prick like a cactus as my breath tickled her sensitive skin. I only imagined her nipples probably did too but had to switch thoughts to avoid my cock twitching in case Y/N could feel it brush against her ass. I gazed down at her, my eyes immediately watching the rise and fall of her chest, and I licked my lips at the sight of them. 

A light click sounded as I opened my door, gently patting Y/N’s thigh so she could walk inside. She took a few tentative steps but I didn’t let her go far without me right behind her. It’s been so long since I felt her this close and now nothing was stopping us.

My heart was so heavy with my devotion, that I nearly kneeled at her feet.  If she only knew, I would do anything for her- to the fucking grave. Either way what bliss. This would be the best chance for me to explain it; to cave and tell her those three words.

I craved Y/N’s touch, her in this room was beginning to consume me and I’d fucking let her.  I watched her eyes close and open slowly, her body movements so gentle she leaned into my tiny touches. The way my hand grazed up her back. The way my fingers danced with hers as we stepped through the threshold of my bedroom; her pinking hooking with mine. I was so close to forgetting what the event tonight was. All I wanted was her all to my fucking self and I wanted to throw her on my bed only to rip off that dress. My tongue craved to taste every single part of her. 

Y/N’s eyes took in all aspects of my room; my desk with my computer. 

“Levi, huh?” She smirked while pointing to my monitor. 

Earlier, I was watching Attack on Titan and paused the episode, never exiting out of the app. 

I shrugged while stuffing my hands deep into my pockets. “You know he’s my favorite, he’s pushing for Naurto to move for the top spot.”

“It’s the hair I bet,” she began looking around my room once again. 

To the mirror, my bed, and the rosary beads. Her eyes darted from the bed back to me, a silent question. 

I nodded, letting her know it was fine to sit, which she did by resting on the edge. I followed, not leaving any space between us. 

“Shit,” Y/N cursed with a groan. “I don’t know why I even wore heels. They kill my ankles.” 

Bending over, I lifted both her feet into my lap to remove her heels then set them on the bed behind me. 

“But they complete my outfit,” she pouted. 

I chuckled while tracing a finger over the small tattoo on her ankle, the one that mirrored mine in design and spot. 

“Just rest your feet for a little while,” I suggested, eyes still on her tattoo. 

Mine subconsciously began to itch with the memories of when we got the tattoos. Her birthday. 

“Oh,” I said suddenly, remembering what I saw online earlier. “I saw that Hollow Souls are going on tour again?” 

Y/N smiled brightly, pure excitement on her face. “Yeah. Who told you that?” 

I waved her off with the hand that wasn’t grazing over her ankle. “Oh, must have been the little birds.” 

“Sneaky birds. But did you see who we’re touring with?”  

I hummed. “Nothing, nowhere. I bet you’re fangirling on the inside right now, huh?” I teased. 

“Can you blame me?” She scoffed. “Joe’s been one of my favorite artists for years now and to experience touring with him, I haven’t stopped smiling since I got the call.”  

When I first found out about this tour, I expected myself to get jealous at the thought of her being on the road with another man while being so far from me but surprisingly, I felt at peace. I trusted Y/N and knew that although she might have had an artist appreciation, I would have liked to think that her heart stayed with me. 

“It will be a sick tour,” I nodded. “Maybe I’ll come out to a show and support you guys. How does it feel knowing this is your first tour as a three piece?” 

Y/N played with the hem of her dress. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited; nervous but very excited. But it's still daunting to know that we have to go up there without a screamer, you know? Everyone seems to be loving our new singles but having to go out there and perform them is scary.” 

“Well, if you’re ever interested in taking up screaming. There’s this great vocal coach that I’ve been looking into. She helps out a lot of artists and I have my first lesson with her at the end of the month,” I stated, fingers still grazing over her skin. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks Mochi,” Y/N reached over and ruffled my hair. 

I dragged my finger up her calf now, her skin pricking under my touch, and I dared a glance to her inner thighs and my cock was now aching in my jeans. Her head turned towards my mirror closet as she watched our reflections. 

“Hm, a mirror right in front of your bed. Kinky,” she winked. 

By now my cock was straining against my zipper and knew I needed to do something about it soon otherwise it would be an issue for the rest of the night. There it went again, my mind completely doing the opposite of what I wanted right now. All I saw were those erotic images over and over.

Y/N kneeled down on the floor between my legs and I shivered under her touch again as her nails raked up and down my thighs. I watched her actions from the mirror behind her, eyes drinking at the sight of her large back tattoo and the perkiness of her round ass. My cock twitched in front of her face as she gazed up at me, taking her bottom lip between her teeth.

“I’ve dreamed of the way you tasted, Noah.”

I shook the thought away but it didn't last long because another image of Y/N flashed in my mind. 

A guttural groan sounded from the back of my throat and I titled my head up towards the ceiling, my long hair cascading down my back. I gripped Y/N’s head with a vise grip and guided her up and down; slowly at first until I reached the resistance of the back of her throat and buried my cock deep in there.

That dream was so vivid when I had it months ago, just as the memories are now. 

Her pussy clenched over my cock as she came undone, her arousal spreading down my thighs. I hooked my fingers in her mouth to hold her up so she could watch us in the mirror now.

“Watch as I fuck your pretty pussy,” I ordered, long hair covering my face.

Y/N did the best she could to nod with my hooks in her mouth and my pace became relentless, slamming into her so hard and fast that the noises echoed throughout my room. The burning felt warm at the base of my spine as my heart pounded wildly in my chest, my own orgasm so fucking close to destroying me.

“Noah?” 

My eyes snapped away from our reflections in the mirror to Y/N’s ethereal face, my fingers still grazing up and down her leg. “Hm?”

“Well, before you zoned out,” she giggled while removing her legs from my lap only to sit on her knees. “I was going to tell you, I love your house and your room! It’s- it’s cute. The LED lights are a nice touch.” 

I smiled. “I love the way you look with them. Soaked in neon glows.” 

Y/N’s eyes sparkled as she looked over my shoulder towards the wall where I had old Bad Omens tour posters framed. 

“No way,” she muttered while climbing off the bed to gaze upon the frames. “You kept the tour poster with Hollow Souls?” 

I rose to my feet, brushing away any hair or lint from my leather jacket, and stood behind her. 

“Yeah, it was our first tour together. It may not have ended in the best way but it’s where we met,” I brushed away her hair from her neck, seeing the tattoo of her large snake back piece peek through the top of her dress. 

Fuck, this had to be my favorite tattoo of hers. It fit her back so well, each groove of her spine. 

I really should book that appointment.

My fingers now grazed over her bracelet and I hummed low in approval. “These look really good on you, angel.” 

“I wear them all the time now. I never take them off. Not even in the shower,” she winked while gazing over at me.

Fuck. 

My cock twitched and I let out a low groan, imagining Y/N in the shower with her necklace and bracelet only on her unholy skin. I leaned my face into the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent, and when my lips brushed against the skin behind her ear, Y/N shivered at my touch. 

“Noah,” she breathed. 

“I’ve missed the way you smelled,” my teeth grazed on the shell of her ear. 

Slowly, Y/N turned in my embrace, now gazing up at me through those long lashes, and I sucked in a breath at her sheer beauty. That magnetic pull that we always felt between us began to vibrate within us, causing her to lean up towards my lips. I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, letting my fingers linger on the side of her neck briefly before cupping her cheek. 

“Mochi,” she moaned softly.

I swallowed, my voice just above a whisper. “Angel.”

Y/N’s hands grasped at my arms, her nails digging into the leather of my jacket, and I continued to hold her face in between my hands. Our lips were so fucking close now, I could feel her warm breath fan across until the taste of raspberry lingered on my bottom lip. 

“Hey, Davis is wondering if the pizzas are already paid for?” Jesse came barreling through the closed door. 

My head snapped to the right, eyes narrowing at him as he peeled an orange with a smug smile on his face. 

“Shit, did I interrupt something? I tend to do that. Just with different fruits,” Jesse popped a piece of orange in his mouth. 

I sighed and let my hands fall from Y/N’s so I could point a finger at him. “You’re peeling an orange and the juices are dripping all over my clean floor.”

“It’s fine. See?” He wiped some of the juice with his foot, his sock getting citrus on it, smearing it all over the hardwood. 

“Jesse,” I gritted out through clenched teeth. “I spent all day cleaning and mopping this entire space.” 

He rolled his eyes and finished the rest of the orange in one bite. “So, Davis.” 

Y/N, who was stifling a giggle behind her hand, nodded. “Yes, the pizzas are already paid for. It’s under Malcolm’s name.”

“Cool. Speaking of which, Malcolm needs help with the banner.” 

“Of course he does,” Y/N shook her head with a chuckle and began to walk away. 

My hand reached for hers, locking around her wrist. “Do you want some help?” 

She patted my hand lightly. “I’d love that, Noah.” 

As Y/N put her heels back on, I pushed Jess out of my room, orange peels and all. Then I led Y/N back downstairs with my hands on her hips. 

“I swear, I’m going to have to buy a lock for my door if Jesse keeps popping in,” I grumbled. 

Y/N turned in my embrace slightly to smack my chest. “Oh, be nice.” 

“And if I’m not?” I teased with a raised brow. 

Just as her lips parted, another shrill voice echoed through the space of the living room; one I hadn’t expected to hear. 

“Hi, baby!”

Y/N’s feet skidded to a halt and I nearly tripped over her since she was still in front of me. 

“Surprise!” Bailey yelled while shaking her hands, standing on the other side of the open door. 

Michael stood holding the door open, unsure what to do. 

“That’s not until later,” Y/N snapped with fists clenched. 

Bailey’s eyes landed on Y/N and I could easily see the way her jaw ticked. “What are you doing here?” 

“Excuse me?” She scoffed.

Bailey pushed past Y/N towards me, trying to rest her hands on my chest; an action I quickly brushed away.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” I asked dumbfounded. 

Her brows furrowed. “I thought maybe we could talk.” 

Bailey’s breath had a lingering scent of alcohol and I scrunched up my nose in disgust. She was a fucking mess; this whole thing was a fucking mess that I needed to rid myself and everyone else of. 

I peered over her shoulder towards Michael and Y/N, whose eyes burned straight into my own; she was furious. 

Angel- my angel. She was going to be so angry with me. I had to explain; fast. My feet couldn’t get to her fast enough

“Y/N-,” I began while stepping away from Bailey. 

She shook her head, ignoring my pleas as she brushed past me. “Malcolm needs my help.” 

READER

I’m angry-no, I’m furious. 

Should I be angry? Do I have the right to feel this way? It’s not like Noah and I were together. I learned quickly what Bailey’s place was. He was clearly trying to make me jealous, and it worked. 

I ripped apart a piece of tape to hand up to Malcolm who was standing on a chair to hang up the banner. 

“What’s wrong, sweets?” He asked. 

Grumbling in response to his question, I handed him another piece of tape just as Noah walked into the kitchen. 

“Angel,” he reached for my arm. “Let me explain! I ended it!” 

I ripped my elbow from his grasp to walk away from him, ready to help Jolly finish setting up the alcohol. 

“I don’t have time for this bullshit, Noah. I have to finish setting up for Chase’s party. Not talk about unwanted guests or lies.” 

His face fell. “I’m not lying. Please, can we talk?” 

Malcolm stared down at Noah from the chair with confused eyes as Jolly’s gaze bounced back and forth between us. “What’s going on?” 

“There’s nothing to talk about. Chase will be here soon,” I ignored Jolly. 

“Y/N,” Noah begged with a trembling lip as he stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “The house is already ready. We need to talk.” 

“I’m not doing this with you right now!” I spat with venom, eyes burning into his. 

“Y/N,” he tried to reach for my hands but I smacked them away. 

Jolly quickly picked up that something was wrong so after setting down the bottle of booze, he motioned for me to follow him. 

“Let’s get some air, huh?” 

Turning my back to Noah, I let Jolly lead me out of the kitchen onto their back porch, the cooling air of the afternoon immediately causing goosebumps to graze my skin; skin that Noah moments ago was touching with his lips. 

“Everything alright?”  

I began pacing, running a hand through my hair. “He lied to me, Jolly! He told me he broke things off but she’s here!” 

He shook his head. “No, Y/N, I promise you; Noah broke up with Bailey. We can all vouch for that.” 

“Then why is she here?!” I yelled with a hand extended towards the house behind him. 

“She’s here to salvage whatever she can. But that’s not on him or you,” Jolly said with his ever-calming voice. 

I swear, his accent is what always made any difficult situation easier. 

“It's just-,” I sighed while falling onto the step, Jolly immediately following me. “Every time I think Noah and I are getting somewhere, some bullshit comes up to continue to keep us apart.” 

Jolly nodded. “I can understand that, I get it. But it doesn’t have to be complicated. It really doesn’t, Y/N.” 

“Then why does this keep happening?” I blew out a shaky breath while looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. 

I was so fucking tired of the universe trying to keep Noah and me apart. I was so fucking tired of trying to be happy for more than a mere moment before something came to crash around me. 

Was I not worthy of a happy ending? After all the bullshit I’d gone through?

Jolly brushed away a stray tear, a solemn smile on his face. “Maybe the universe is-shit-I don’t know trying to humble you both first? Heal? Hell if I know, I’d kill to have that spark you two have. I don’t know shit about this, Y/N. But I do know Noah; he isn’t perfect. But he’s trying so hard to be. He also isn’t lying to you, he isn’t.”

Reluctantly, I nodded and rested my head against his shoulder. “Is it alright if I just sit here a minute with you?” 

He patted my knee. “Take all the time you need, söt.” 

“Huh?” I looked up at him. 

With a chuckle, Jolly wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “It means sweet, in Swedish. Sorry, sometimes it slips out without-.” 

“No!” I patted his knee now. “I like it.” 

With a relaxed breath, I eased into Jolly’s comforting embrace, thankful that I had so many friends to confide in when things became tough. 

MATT

So ‘distressed distraction mission fail’ was here. I chuckled to myself, my inner monologue taking over. I felt like it was closing in around me. In my mind, I was growing larger and larger, expanding with aggravation. If I say something too fast, to get myself under control, I’d explode and take the situation in my hands. 

This wasn’t my fuckin fight, I knew that. But- once again, this girl proves to me she doesn’t belong here and surely, doesn’t understand the words no.

Stop. 

Leave.

Noah ended this shit so why was she here? Dogs and fucking rabid raccoons understand basic shit better than Bailey.

I often tried to bite my tongue. I often tried to be kind when I didn’t need to be. It was important to be kind, however, not when you fuck with my family. Bailey didn’t get my message the last time. However, I knew tonight was going to be the last time she’d be around. I felt that shit in my gut.

Good fuckin riddance.

Noah was still in the kitchen and from the way Malcolm was laying into him about something, I knew he’d be held up there for a few minutes. 

I walked up to Bailey as she was sitting on Noah’s couch, a glass of wine in her hand. 

“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in.” I taunted while crossing my arms over my chest, staring down at her. 

Bailey rolled her eyes while taking a very long sip of her wine. “Matt, seriously?” 

“Yeah, seriously. Any particular reason you’re here tonight, trying to, I don’t know, ruin another gathering?” 

“I just wanted to talk to Noah,” she slurs while slowly sanding to her feet, swaying slightly. “I think we can figure things out.” 

My face scrunched in disgust. “Why don’t you sit down, no need to make a bigger fool of yourself.”

“‘M not,” the red liquid swirled in her cup as she shook her head. 

“I’m sorry but have you been blind this whole time?” I wondered.

Bailey scoffed, suddenly falling back onto the couch and spilling a few drops of wine onto the couch. “I’m not blind.” 

Fuck, if Noah wasn’t pissed with this girl before, he definitely would be now for staining his couch. 

I bent low on my knees to make direct eye contact with her. “You keep acting like it, Bailey. You should have just taken the voicemail for what it was. Noah ended it with you; it’s done. What was the point of even coming over here? Because this thing with him isn’t going to happen. You're water and Y/N is milk.” 

“What does that mean?” Bailey hiccuped, resting her head against the back of the couch. 

I peered over my shoulder to point toward Noah, who was watching Y/N directly as she walked back inside with Jolly. She didn’t bother to give Noah an ounce of attention as she was led by Jolly into the dining room. The look of hurt and yearning from Noah made my own stomach drop. His usual stoic face was void, it was evident that his emotions were coming to the surface. Noah loved Y/N with his entire essence but this woman sitting in front of me was going to ruin it. 

The hurt I felt for my friend; no, my brother made the tone in my voice turn to ice as I glared back at Bailey.

“Y/N is the fucking moon that lights his entire dark sky. Come on, stop playing stupid,” I stood to my feet and ran a hand through my hair. 

Leaving her to sulk on her own, I motioned for Malcolm to come out front with me so we could talk privately. 

NOAH

Music blasted throughout my house, the party well underway. Chase arrived about thirty minutes ago, not a hint of surprise on his face but still wore a happy smile. Somehow he managed to find out about the party, which immediately brought a sad smile to Y/N’s face; one I wished I could brush away with my thumb. 

“Ah, it’s alright sweets. I really appreciate the effort,” Chase kissed her forehead before laying a kiss on Malcolm’s lips. “Thank you, guys. I love you.” 

I tried talking to Y/N one more time before the party started but with Malcolm’s ice-cold gaze, I knew it wasn’t the right time. It would have to wait until later. 

Something else needed my attention. 

Bailey stumbled into the living room, red solo cup barely hanging between her fingers, as she was in a fit of giggles. I internally was smoldered with resentment as I watched Bailey. Rage flowed through me like lava because she came here and did this. I tried, I fucking tried.  I realized this was the consequence of my previous actions. 

However, have I not atoned? 

I apologized. I-I tried, I called Bailey and told her I couldn’t be what she wanted. I ended it. 

I knew she knew, she told me that night in the car. I had eyes for someone else. 

I couldn’t allow her to destroy what I was working towards. I tried to swallow my frustration. Angel wouldn’t even look at me- I felt like I could die right here.  I was sitting on the couch with my arms resting along the back of it, eyes watching Y/N’s every move as she talked with Davis. 

Until Bailey fell onto the couch next to me. “I-I thought I haad a driinkie for you.” 

My jaw ticked as I ran a hand over it. “Bailey, I’m sorry, but you weren’t invited.”

“Wha-what does,” she hiccuped. “That mean?”

I moved towards the other end of the couch to give us more space. “Bailey, I left you a voicemail!” 

“I haven’t checked it! I have like 20 messages,” she waved me off before drinking from her cup. 

“Bailey-.” 

A mutual friend of Orie’s came by with a tray of shot glasses, one that Bailey reached for. 

“Oh! Shots!”

Quickly, I pushed away the tray from her and dismissed the friend, stating we were fine and didn’t need anything to drink. 

“Noah!” Bailey whined while cupping my face. “Why’d youuu do that? I’m thirsty!” 

I smacked her hand away as gently as I could. “You’re drunk, Bailey. You’ve had enough.” 

She, of course, ignored me and was fast on her feet to stumble into the kitchen. “I’m gonna go get another!”

A look of great bitterness swept across my face when I approached Bailey again and attempted to get her to leave. “Bailey, let me call you an Uber. You need to go.”

“Noah!” 

She tried to push me away but ended up crashing into the kitchen counter, knocking over the vast variety of alcohol. The loud noise caught the attention of everyone around; Y/N watching Bailey with a look of disdain, never once looking into my eyes. I curbed the way my heart fell to my stomach only because I couldn’t focus on the pain. 

I needed to get Bailey out of here.

“I missed you,” she slurred while running a finger down my chest. “I miss the way you fucked me. Can we try again?” 

I threw her arms off of me as she tried to wrap them around my neck. “No, Bailey, whatever this was is finished. You need to go.”

“We need to talk right now, mother fucker,” Chase spat as he gripped my eblow to drag me to a far corner of the living room, away from prying ears. 

“Man, not now,” I ripped my arm from him. “I’m fucking busy trying to diffuse this situation.” 

“Bailey is drunk, Noah! What the fuck!” Chase ran a hand over his buzzed head. “You’re going to do this? Now? We fucking talked about this! What did I tell you? Get it together or leave my sister alone.” 

He roughly pushed my shoulder and I took a deep breath to keep myself calm. From the moment Bailey showed up tonight, I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown and there was nothing I could do to stop it; breathing be damned. 

“STOP!” I suddenly snapped, earning a few stares from people around us. 

Nick R. went to step forward as he leaned against the wall with Nadia but I was quick to wave him off. I refused to ruin their night. His girlfriend was in town for the first time in a long time so the last thing they needed was to deal with my drama. 

“Fuck!” I spoke. “I did! I fucking broke it off, it’s over! Bailey just fucking showed up! And I’d hate for her to drive and die. I do not need that shit on my conscious.” 

“Noah-,” Malcolm stepped up next to Chase.

“I swear to fucking Hades himself, if you tell me to break it off with Bailey, I will lose my shit,” I snapped, the vein in my neck twitching. 

“I’m not,” Malcolm’s voice was even, steady, almost a low whisper because he knew I was seconds away from sheer catastrophe. “Y/N’s fucking hurt, Noah.” 

“I’m-.” I couldn’t even finish my sentence before Chase snapped. 

“I know you’re fucking sorry, alright! But please for the love of fucking Neptune, get rid of her!” 

“Working on it, man,” I reminded him as I turned on my heels to head back into the kitchen but came to a sudden halt. 

Bailey was dragging a guy towards Y/N, her loud shrill voice echoing over the music. 

“Y/N! This was the friend I was talking to you about!” 

Friend? What the fuck? 

The look on Y/N’s face was one of embarrassment and awkwardness. Not many could read someone from across the room but I could. I knew exactly what Y/N was feeling without an utter from her sweet lips; her body always gave her away. 

JESSE

Oh shit, oh shit. 

If only I had known how tonight was going to go. 

Truth be told, I really wanted everyone out of my fucking house. I wanted to lock Y/N and Noah in the garage, not letting them out until they talked this shit out. Although, depending on what happens next, I might have to.

I leaned against the kitchen sink as I watched with careful eyes as Bailey approached Y/N with some guy in tow. 

“Y/N! This is the friend I was talking about! The one I wanted to introduce you to! Jared, this is Y/N.” 

My gaze snapped over to Noah just in time to see him crush the red solo cup in his hand. 

“Oh, hi. Hello,” Y/N shifted on her feet. 

“Fuck,” Jared licked his lips. “You know you’re really beautiful. You’re a model ain’t you?” 

Y/N cleared her throat. “Musician, actually.”

Something was off with this guy so without them noticing, I took a few steps closer toward Y/N, just in case she needed me to step in. 

“Wow a musician, that’s right! Bailey mentioned something about that. I have heard your band before. Souls Hollow.” Jared snapped as if he found out the answer for a million dollars.

“Hollow Souls”. 

The loud pop of Y/N’s water bottle made me jump slightly as she crushed it between her hands. 

“Right! Well, you have the face and the body for modeling if that’s something you want to get into,” Jared ran a hand through his short hair. 

“No, not my interest or my forte.”

Somehow through her drunken state, Bailey was able to feel the sudden tension and patted the guy's chest. 

“Jared, why don’t you get us a couple of drinks? I need to have some girl talk with, Y/N.” 

Girl talk?

“Girl talk?” Y/N chuckled low.

Once it was the two of them, or so Bailey thought, I leaned forward on the kitchen island to listen better. 

“You know,” Bailey threw her hair over her shoulder. “It might be good for you to blow off some aggression. He could be a good fuck.” 

“Thank you for your interest in my well-being.” Y/N scoffed, ready to end this conversation, and went to walk past her. 

“I’m just saying. I’d love to be fucked by Noah again, but he hasn’t been interested,” Bailey shrugged while leaning against the counter for support. 

Oh. Fuck. 

Y/N turned swiftly on her heels with a look of pure fury behind those eyes, the ones that drew Noah in that first meeting; something he told me many times before. I could see the hurt behind that fury though. It was clear that Bailey’s words dragged the knife deeper into her heart. But just as quickly as the hurt surfaced, Y/N was quick to close herself off by crossing her arms over her chest with wide eyes, internally going into herself. 

The shit I just heard. Bailey did that on purpose, or she was so far gone on liquor she didn’t realize what she said.

 No, it was both. Bailey came here to hurt Noah, that was obvious.

Daring a glance over to Y/N, I felt my stomach drop at what I saw. While it wasn’t easy for me to read her face all the time, that look was something I’d seen on Noah’s face one too many times. 

She was passed beyond the point of disassociation. 

Silence. 

Y/N was silent. The calm before the storm. 

“Shit, Noah.” I quietly said under my breath as I nearly sped to him. 

He was sitting on the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his knees as they bounced wildly. Even with me approaching him with a fury, Noah’s eyes never left the two women behind me. 

“Noah!” I waved my hand in front of his face. “Noah!” 

“Not now man,” he waved me off, still not looking up at me. 

Following his gaze, my shoulders slumped when I noticed that Jared had returned to Y/N and was trying to hand her a drink; one that she kept refusing.

Noah’s fists were balled tightly underneath his chin, his chest unmoving as if his breath was caught in his throat.

“Yes, now! Fuck, Noah. I need to tell you something.” 

Before I could sit down, Bailey barreled her way past me onto the couch to plop down next to Noah, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“Oh, don’t they look perfect together? I’d say I’m a great fucking matchmaker. Heaven knows she needs to get laid. She’s been so uptight since I’ve met her.” 

Mother fucker. 

All this time and Bailey still couldn’t read the fucking room. 

NOAH

I shifted my body away from Bailey, her head falling away from my shoulder, as I glared at her. 

“What did you just say?” I was eerily calm even though my heart was in my ears. 

Bailey did her best to fix her hair, trying to make herself presentable. “Y/N looks so good with Jared! I’m so glad I set them up. It seemed like she’d been so lonely since the break up with Trey.” 

Jesse sat next to me. “Noah-.” 

Ignoring him, I kept my hard gaze on the mess of Bailey. “Why do you insist on bringing that asshole up in every conversation?” 

“Why does her love life bother you so much, No-O-ah.” She hiccuped then let out a low belch, the smell rancid.

It disgusted me.

I was beginning to see slight parallels with this. Trey, Bailey, Trey Bailey. Drowning their demons. Once again confirming I will not be like this. I won’t become them. My demons won’t swim.

“Why can’t you mind your own fucking business? You don’t know shit about her or any of us. You think you do because of things you read on a blog?” 

Fuck, Bailey was getting inside my skin and I wanted to scratch it away until it bled. I chewed roughly on the inside of my cheek, doing whatever I could to keep my anger under control. I couldn’t make a scene in front of everyone because of Bailey. 

She took a large gulp of her wine and lazily shrugged. “Trey was a big part of Y/N’s life; I can understand that.”

Jesse reached past me to grab the glass of wine from her since she almost dropped it because of her weak grip. The sound of glass clanking on the table in front of me was a white noise in my ears. 

“Oh, Jo-O-lly,” Bailey whined with a hiccup. “You’re no fun.” 

“Jesse,” he corrected.

She ignored him with a wave of a hand towards Y/N and this friend. “Look at them. Y/N’s so into him.”

My gaze snapped over to Y/N expecting to see her all over this guy but breathed a little easier to see that there was a decent amount of space between them and her arms were crossed over her chest. 

She was closing herself off from the conversation but ever the sweetheart, Y/N couldn’t find the way to end it.

“Hopefully, they’ll fuck. I mentioned to Y/N that we did as girl talk, so maybe she finally will too!” 

My eyes doubled in size as my head whipped back to her, heart now leaping out of my fucking throat. All the noise around me fell away, the only thing I could hear was two words. 

You’re fucked.  

“You fucking told her we had sex?” I spat through clenched teeth. 

“It was girl talk, Noah. You’re freaking out about nothing,” Bailey rolled her eyes. 

Terror washed over me because there was absolutely no fucking way she told Y/N. 

“She did. I was right there,” Jesse informed, almost as if he could read my mind. 

The fine hairs at the back of my neck rose as the anger now ran through me in waves. 

Bailey told her. She fucking told her. 

Fuck!

My hands raked through my hair, ripping it from the low bun, and I vibrated with rage. 

I should have told Y/N right after it happened. I shouldn’t have let it drag on this long. It would have hurt coming from me, yes, but now that Bailey was the one to tell her, I knew it was eating away inside of Y/N. 

Idiot. 

Idiot. 

Asshole. 

Fucking bitch. 

My heart continued to pound rapidly in my ears. I wanted to scream; the sudden shock made my muscles tense. Innate fear was instinctive and hard-wired into my brain.

This kept fucking happening. Every time I thought Y/N and I were getting somewhere, something fucking came crashing into it. How did we go from almost kissing upstairs in my bedroom to now? She ignored me as another man was practically drooling at the sight of her. 

Mine. She’s mine. She’s always been mine. 

This feeling that burned low in my gut involved a fight-or-flight response triggered by a perceived threat; Bailey. 

I hated myself more than I had in a long time. 

A sudden thought crossed my mind which made me blow out a shaky breath. Was I the threat?

No. I broke it off. 

Fuck this.

“Oh,” Bailey’s voice was sad. “I hope Jared won't mind Y/N’s scar, though. I never had the chance to warn him.”

“Excuse me?” I fumed, nostrils flaring. 

How she continued to misread the room appalled me. 

“Well, I noticed her scar during the pool day. It’s a nasty one. I can't believe she deals with that endo bullshit,” Bailey sympathized. 

“Endometriosis,” I corrected but then shook my head with the sudden realization. “How do you know about that?” 

“Why does it matter, Noah?” She shifted uncomfortably. 

The only people who knew about Y/N’s scar beside herself were Malcolm, Chase, and me. It was a very sore subject for her, something she didn’t want brought up. It was from a procedure she had years ago, one to remove a thin layer of tissue that lined her uterus to help with her heavy bleeding. 

I never noticed the scar however during our night together. My mind was elsewhere. I never paid attention to that, it could have been a stretch mark for all I knew. I was a little too occupied tasting her to care. So enamored in her, so thankful just to have every inch of her at all that night that I didn’t see it as an imperfection on her. 

And I never would. 

“It fucking does matter, Bailey!” I roared. 

Jesse’s hand rested on my shoulder, his soft touch easing the rage slightly. However, out of the corner of my eye, something else caught the attention of my rage. 

Bile rose in my throat as I watched Jared’s slimy fingers graze down Y/N’s bare arm towards the silver chain on her wrist; the bracelet I bought her. He twirled it between his fingers before flicking it away with a look of distaste. Y/N yanked her arm away from him, holding her wrist close to her chest. 

My nostrils flared as my shoulders went rigid, my body going taught. Something cold and wet dripped onto my lips and the copper taste was bitter on my tongue. I could feel my increasing heart rate, the blood rushing in and out through my ears. I swallowed thickly with my dry mouth, producing no saliva. 

My clenched fists were aching, I was sure to leave half-crescent marks on my palms. My jaw was tight as if it was wired shut and my gums must have been bleeding. I could taste it in my mouth as one simple thought continued to repeat in my mind. 

Destroy. He’s touching what’s yours. 

I could do it, it’d be so easy. 

This piece of shit dared to look at something I gave Y/N with distaste and it made me bare my teeth. 

“Fuck, Noah. Are you alright?” Jesse’s concern brought me back from seeing red. “Your nose is bleeding.”

I wiped my palm over my nose. “Is it?” 

Crimson smeared all over my hand. 

Fuck. 

With every step back Y/N took, this guy followed in an attempt to close the distance between them. A muscle in her jaw ticked as her brows furrowed, eyes darting around the room to look for someone. 

Chase and Malcolm were in the front yard with others playing one of the yard games Steven brought. Everyone else was scattered throughout the house which meant I was closest to her. 

Perhaps this fear of loss is only proof of my love for Y/N, one that she will always depend on. The curse is the blessing. Blessed with a curse. Love is tough, but I’m tough enough. I needed to get to Y/N and get to her now.

Bolting to my feet, I moved like lighting and did not listen to Jesse’s protests as I reached Y/N in a few wide strides. 

Even though she was angry at me, Y/N’s eyes lit up with relief as she saw me only for a moment. 

“Everything alright?” I asked while standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her. 

Jared motioned towards Y/N. “I’m trying to get your beautiful friend from Sollows to go out with me.”

I ground my teeth while taking a step towards him.  “It’s Hollow Souls. Hollow. Souls. You don’t even fucking know her band's name. Get the hell out of here.”

“Noah!” Y/N jeered from behind me. 

“All I’m asking for is one date, dude. She’s hard to break down to agree,” Jared shook his head. 

I stood toe to toe with this asshole, my words stone cold and stern so he understood completely. “She isn't available!”

“Really?” He scoffed while stuffing his hands in his pockets. “That’s not what your girlfriend told me. Why do you care so much about who Y/N talks to?” 

“Bailey isn’t my girlfriend; not anymore. I broke up with her days ago, it’s not my fucking problem that she can't understand it,” I reiterated for what seemed like the tenth time today. 

“Why is she here then?” Y/N muttered behind me. 

Ignoring her, I continued to stand tall in between her and Jared. 

“So again, Y/N isn’t available,” I repeated. 

“Really?” Jared chuckled. 

“Yeah, dude. Really.” 

One step closer to him. 

He outstretched his arms. “I don’t see anyone around to claim her.”

I despised the way he was talking about Y/N; someone that was mine. 

“She isn’t a fucking object,” I hissed. 

I studied him with unforgiving judgment, an icy stare bored into him, making it hard not to back away.  I gripped the glass I had in my hand. My first thought was to throw it to the floor and smash it, but I knew if I did that, I wouldn’t stop until every glass in the cupboard was in shards and Jared’s face was pushed into it. 

Violence never solved anything. I had to remind myself that this is not what I am. Not what Y/N would want. I had to keep my composure at best. I had to.

I also would never want to incite fear in Y/N. Never. I knew she wasn’t into him, but I couldn’t help but notice sleazy Jared letting his eyes roam her entire body, as much as she tried to hide herself away. His eyes went to her exposed legs, the colorful and detailed drawings on her right one. 

 I didn’t like that. 

Y/N’s smooth skin. Her perky, round, and full chest was probably what caught Jared’s attention in the first place. At this moment, he became just another enemy. But nobody, not even him, was going to try and take Y/N away from me. Not when she was mine. I wanted her all for myself.

I inhaled and exhaled so harshly; like a fucking  bull ready to charge

“I’m not saying she is an object. All I’m saying is-.”

“Yeah, I know what you’re fucking saying,” I barked “And I’m telling you Y/N isn’t available. She’s with me.” 

Jared snickered. “If that’s the case then why did she spend the last ten minutes talking to me.” 

“I’m right fucking here!” Y/N screamed while pushing past me to now step between us. “Stop acting like I’m not!” 

Jared went to reach for her which prompted me to wrap an arm around her shoulder, ready to lead her away. 

“We need to talk; let’s go upstairs,” I begged with wide eyes. 

She hastily removed my arm from her. “No, fuck you! I have nothing to say to you. This conversation is over.” 

“The hell it is,” I snapped while running my hands through my hair. “This isn’t over until we talk into the light. Please, angel. Let's go upstairs.” 

Y/N pushed my chest. “Oh, you want to talk now? You’re bored with Bailey so yet again, I’m your second option?”

Jared shifted on his feet. “Am I missing something here?”

I glared at him over my shoulder. “Yeah, none of this concerns you. Fuck off.”

“Noah!” Y/N chastised. “STOP IT!” 

My head snapped back to her. “No, don’t Noah me. We need to talk! Without this asshole.” 

“Fuck you, man!” 

Jared went to reach for me but I was a hair faster than him, pushing him back into the kitchen island. By now, our little argument caught the attention of almost everyone in the house, and the music ceased, an eerie silence falling around us. 

“Don’t you ever put your fucking hands on me or Y/N.” I seethed, my chest rising and falling with each deep breath.  

So many different gazes burned into me but I didn’t give a shit about the scene. The only thing I cared about was Y/N. 

“Angel, please can we-,” I turned back around just in time to see her bolt up the stairs, away from everyone. 

“Shit,” I muttered while bounding up the stairs two at a time to catch her. 

As I reached the landing upstairs, I caught her frame slipping into the bathroom but before I could reach her, the door slammed in my face. 

“Y/N,” my voice was soft as my knuckles tapped against the door. 

“Leave me alone!” She choked on a sob, it echoing through the wood

My forehead rested against the wall next to the bathroom, the rage and anger that consumed me minutes prior suddenly faded into the void, my heart only feeling one emotion; despair. I needed to feel Y/N in my embrace. I needed to console her and assure her that everything would be okay. 

We will be okay. 

“Noah, what the fuck was that man?” Davis demanded. 

Turning my body around, I leaned against the wall with pure exhaustion and ran my hands over my face; images of Jared’s hands all over Y/N were clear in the darkness. 

“He was touching her,” I chewed out. “His hands were-fuck!”

I pushed myself off the wall and began pacing up and down the hall, right in front of my bedroom. 

Davis watched with his hands on his hips. “You need to pull it together. What the fuck was that downstairs?! Why hasn’t Bailey left yet? I thought you ordered her an Uber?”

“I’ve been trying!” I snapped while coming to a halt. 

But when I saw the look on his face, I sighed while pinching my nose. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to snap at you but I’m just so tired of being accused tonight of shit that’s out of my control. 

“It’s alright, man,” Davis reassured me. 

“Fuck, where’s Chase? Or Malcolm? Maybe they can talk Y/N out of the bathroom.” I suggested. 

“Chase is pissed. Malcolm had to hold him back to keep him from coming up here to kick your ass.” 

With my hands on the ledge, I peered over it to see that Davis was telling the truth. Malcolm had Chase pinned against the front door, arms on each side of him in a way to lock him in a makeshift cage. It helped that Malcolm was a bit bigger than Chase so he couldn’t push past him, which I was thankful for because his usual bright eyes were dark with hatred. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about up here but I knew with the way Chase pointed up at me and the vein in his forehead throbbing that it wasn’t good. Malcolm rested a hand on Chase’s cheek, the latter immediately relaxing in the former’s touch.

“I never meant for this to happen,” I blew out a shaky breath, doing my best to keep my tears at bay. 

It wasn’t fucking fair. I did everything right so why was it coming back to bite me in the ass?

“I know,” Davis stepped up beside me to lay a hand on my shoulder. “I fucking know this is killing you right now. But you have to move past this. Y/N doesn’t deserve this side of you. And frankly, neither do you.” 

“I know I said I can wait for years if I have to, Davis. But fuck, I want us right now! I can’t see anything else but Y/N.  I want her with me! I want all of her forever. It’s her and me I-.” 

A sob crawled its way out of my throat.  "I want all of her. Forever.” 

“It’s okay, Noah,” he rubbed my back in smoothing circles. “It may not seem like it right now but I promise you, it will be okay.” 

The soft click of the bathroom sounded loud in the hallway upstairs but when I turned towards it with a hopeful smile, it faltered when Y/N whipped past us, her hair flowing behind her in waves. 

“Angel.” 

I reached for her, only for Y/N to rip farther away from me, and retreat downstairs. 

READER

Tears fell from my eyes as I hid behind my hair, heels reaching the bottom of the stairs. While my heart beat rapidly in my chest, my mind screamed one thing in my mind over and over again. 

You need to leave. Get out. Get out. 

I looked around with frantic eyes for Chase and Malcolm, knowing that I wasn’t in the best state of mind to drive. By now, the vast group of people that came for the party had dispersed only leaving our small group of friends. Instead, my gaze locked with Nick R’s and I nearly sobbed at the sight of him. I needed some sort of comfort from someone and it didn’t matter who it was; as long as it wasn’t Noah. 

Before I could make my way over towards Nick R., a vice grip wrapped around my elbow to spin me around. 

“You couldn’t stay away, could you?!” Bailey’s nails dug into my skin. 

I hissed. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” 

“Noah could have moved on with me! I could have made him so happy!” Her words slurred together, the heavy stench of alcohol on her breath. “But no, every time I was with him, there you were! You couldn’t fucking leave him alone!” 

The tears tasted bitter on my tongue. “Excuse me?”

Bailey chuckled dryly, barely able to keep herself up on two feet.  “You’re his fucking ghost. You’re here all the time. It’s a good thing I showed up tonight. I followed my gut. But I don’t know what hurts worse; you and Noah sneaking around behind my back or-.” 

“We-.” 

She stuck up a finger to hush me. “Behind my back or you both lying about your feelings for each other to my face. You’ve been in love this whole fucking time and I was only a pawn in this story.”

I slowly shook my head, suddenly feeling guilty. It was true, even though we didn’t want to admit it, but she was a pawn. An innocent person caught in the crossfire of a tangled mess of soulmates. 

“Bailey.”

“No!” She screamed with her own tears. “What also hurts is that I can’t blame you! I can’t! But I truly don’t know how you’re going to be able to give him anything he needs.” 

Pure venom filled her eyes; a snake ready to snap at its prey. “I-I don’t-I know everything and I can’t help but feel sorry for you. I know how hard it will be for you to have a child. How do you think Noah feels about that? You’re taking away his chance of having a family, any chance of normalcy!” 

I nearly stumbled back, being smacked in the face with her words, and I blinked rapidly at her. “Wh-How do you know?” 

Bailey ignored me by throwing up her hands. “So take him! Noah is all yours. You two fucking deserve each other.”

My eyes now sliced into her. “How the fuck do you know about that, Bailey?”

“He’ll never love me like he loves you, and it’s selfish of you to keep throwing him away.” She yet again avoided my question. “He wouldn’t touch me, never. Especially when you were around. Only that one time but all he thought about was you.”

“I’m not! You don’t know a fucking thing! Noah doesn’t love me! He doesn’t.” I bellowed as loud footsteps came running down the steps. 

Noah’s frantic face pleaded for me to stay, to listen, but I refused; I was done with this entire day and wanted to leave. 

“I’m leaving,” I said, turning on my heels. 

“Angel, please wait!” Noah reached for me, yet again.

“Hang on,” Bailey stepped in front of him, blocking his path to me. “Y/N is Angel?” 

I didn’t bother hearing the excuse Noah came up with. My only path was the front door where Nick R. stood, waiting for me with it wide open.

Somewhere an hour outside of Cheston, South Carolina in a nursing home, a resident named Duke was so enamored with the elderly woman that sat beside him. He read to her every day about a story of love, loss, and the power to fight for love.

“Did they love each other?” The woman asks, brushing away the graying strands of her hair.

Duke closed the book and smiled. “They didn’t agree on much. In fact, they didn’t agree on anything. They fought all the time and challenged each other every day. But despite their differences, they had one important thing in common. They were crazy about each other.”

The older lady rested deeper into her chair, a faint smile on her lips.“I like these kinds of stories,” 

“Yeah? Me too.” Duke smiled at her and set the book on the table in front of them. “Somewhere out there, I’m sure this exists. It did for me.”

THIRD PERSON POV

“Leave me alone!” Y/N screamed over her shoulder to Noah who was following on her heels. 

He let her walk away so many previous times and he was done letting the cycle continue. 

“You’re not leaving!” Noah ordered, his voice echoing into the night air. 

Chase and Malcolm, who were sitting on the front porch, watched the entire scene unfold in front of them. Chase wanted to intervene, still reeling from what happened before the party ended but Malcolm held him in place with a hand on his knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

“They need to figure this out on their own, Chase. We can’t keep helping them.” 

Davis and Matt also wanted to intervene as they watched through the large window in the living room. They wanted to help, but even they shook their heads. 

“This is it. The dam broke and it’s about fucking time,” Matt said while leaning against the wall next to the window. 

“Let them hash it out. This is going to be cathartic for both of them.” Davis said while peaking through the curtains. 

Steven almost popped out of nowhere with a sigh. “Here we go.” 

Suddenly, the dark sky above cracked with a bright light, rain immediately falling from the clouds and soaking Noah and Y/N as they continued their stare off in his driveway. 

“Have you been paying attention to anything happening?!” Y/N accused, wet strands of hair clinging to her face. 

“No, I guess not!” Noah retorted back. “I must have misread every fucking signal!” 

“Guess you did!” Y/N scoffed while turning back on her heels, the loud clicking being muted by the sounds of the onslaught of rain and thunder. 

When she opened the door to her car, Noah was quick to slam it shut. “You’re bored! You know it and we wouldn’t keep doing this if something wasn’t missing! But you don’t fucking get it!” 

“Get what?” Y/N questioned while trying to open the door again. 

Noah slammed it shut again, not allowing her to leave.  “WHY?! Why am I not worthy?” 

As he screamed those words a few more times, his despair was heard by everyone inside the house who watched with broken eyes, the yellow hue of the street lamp casting him in his own angelic aura. 

Y/N’s lips mimicked a fish out of the water, despite being drowned under the rain

“This whole fucking thing of hot and cold with you!  You’re being a pain in the ass!” Noah rested his arm on the top of her car, bright eyes burning into hers. 

Her eyes bulged out of her head and she gave a hard shove to his chest. “Excuse me? You arrogant son of a bitch, you tell me all this shit! I sit there and tolerate this distraction of yours, who sits there and tells me little theories and fucking intrusive bull shit. She pries into parts of my life; parts she shouldn’t know!” 

Noah’s face softened, immediately knowing what Y/N was referring to. “I didn’t tell her, Y/N. I swear to Hades, I didn’t tell Bailey about your endometriosis.”

“Then how does she know? It’s not public knowledge!”

He tried to reach for her but Y/N pushed him away with yet another hard shove. “Don’t fucking touch me!” 

Chase went to bolt outside into the onslaught of the storm to protect his sister but Malcolm was quick to bring him back inside. Unfortunately, this wasn’t their fight anymore. It was up to Noah and Y/N. 

“Angel, please,” Noah begged with a trembling lip. “Come back inside so we can talk about this.” 

Y/N ripped her hands through her hair. “There’s nothing to talk about, Noah! Don’t you get it?! We keep running in circles with no positive outcome. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t.” 

They both were drenched, limbs shivering from the cold wind and rain, but neither of them made the first move to falter; to end this fight. 

“Stop acting like I don’t care about you; about us!” Noah snapped. 

“I never said you didn’t! If anything I felt the same way you fucking idiot! I-I’m-.” 

The words died from her lips, unable to finish her sentence due to the fear of Noah not feeling the same. 

“You what?” He urged while taking a step towards her. 

Y/N wildly shook her head as her make up ran down her face, staining her cheeks and neck in mascara. 

“I-I can’t.” Y/N pressed her palm into her forehead. 

“Yes, you can,” Noah licked his lips in anticipation. “Fuck, Y/N! YOU WHAT?!”

“I’m in love with you! Okay?! I fucking love you.” Y/N turned on her heels to walk down the driveway but stopped, quickly turning to Noah. 

Everyone inside the house gasped, all looking at each other. 

“Did she?” Folio wondered. 

Malcolm had a hint of a smile on his lips. “Yeah, she did.” 

“You always just pretend that everything is fine when it’s not!” She pointed a firm finger at him.  “Then you stand there and have the right to say I’m the pain in the ass? Fuck you, Noah! I’m so tired of you pretending that you don’t have feelings for me.” 

Noah’s eyes widened with furrowed brows and his jaw slacked. “You-You-’re-wait!”

He shook his head in disbelief but then confusion etched over the features of his face. “I’m pretending? I’ve been trying to tell you for months! But I don’t know how to do any of this, okay? These feelings are new for me and I don’t know how to deal with them!”

“This isn’t going to work,” Y/N sobbed while holding her arms close to her chest, whether it was due to the cold or to protect herself from the feelings, no one but her was sure. 

Noah gapped at her. “We haven’t even started anything! And I’m fucking sorry about everything and Bailey! I’m so fucking sorry! I should have never even walked into the record shop that day. My head was a mess after seeing your instagram post and I lost it.” 

“Wait,” Y/N shook her head. “What Instagram post?” 

Noah ran a hand on the back of his neck. “The one you posted in Japan. I-I thought you found someone there that could get you actual ramen.” 

Y/N couldn’t help but internally snicker at that but the anger and hurt she felt outweighed that glimmer of humor. 

“So you dated someone because you misunderstood a fucking Instagram post?!” She pushed Noah once again. 

However this time, he grasped her hands so she couldn’t pull away. He held them against the beating pulse underneath his soaked shirt. 

They were exactly alike. In every aspect. Mannerisms, interests, and their souls were the same. Which is why they always seemed to find their way back to one another, no matter the outcome. 

“Just fucking stay with me, Y/N! Stay till the morning and we can figure this shit out. Please,” Noah begged with trembling lips. 

“Stay with you?” Y/N pushed away then pointed between them. “Look at us, Noah! All we’ve been doing is bickering and fighting!” 

“Well that’s what we do. We fight. You tell me when I am being an arrogant son of a bitch and I tell you when you’re being a pain in the ass. Which you are, 99 percent of the time. I’m not afraid to hurt your feelings. You have like a 2 second rebound rate, then you’re back doing the next pain-in-the-ass thing!”

By now, the rain was a terrental down pur, branches of the trees swaying widely in the wind as the sky cracked loudly with lightning and thunder; it shook both Y/N and Noah to their bones. 

“So what?” Y/N scoffed. “Why does it matter to you?”

“Because I fucking love you, angel!” Noah blurted out. 

He planned on telling her how he really felt from the moment the feelings clawed their way to the surface but something always managed to get in the way of it. But here, now, outside his house with all of their friends watching, he admitted it to her. 

And he’d spend the rest of his days shouting from the rooftops his love for his angel. 

“This shit is hard for me. I’m being vulnerable, but fuck, man” Noah pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling and exhaling his breaths; like Dr. Poulos had told him to do so. 

Y/N gazed up at him with a fixed gaze unable to move. “What?” 

The onlookers had their ears peeled to their spots, doors and open cracks of the windows.

“Oh thank the gods.” Michael breathed out

“Fuck!” A low clap from Jesse.

Noah stood no less than a few inches apart from Y/N and his arms fell to his sides. 

“I love you! I’ve loved you since I heard your fucking voice for the first time through my Ipod that night on Nick’s couch. The first day of the tour when I got off that bus.” 

Y/N’s bottom lip quivered. “You love me too?” 

“Yes, angel. I want all of you, you and me! Will you do something for me, please? Just picture your life for me? Five, ten years from now. What does it look like? If it’s not with me then, go. Go!” 

Noah smacked the hood of Y/N’s car. “I lost you once. Shit, twice. I think I can do it again. If I thought that’s what you really wanted. But don’t you take the easy way out.”

Chase, yet again bolted up from his spot from in front of the window, ready to run outside to protect his sister but now it was Nick R. who stopped him. 

“Move,” Chase spat through gritted teeth. 

Nick R. shook his head with a stern face. “We can’t intervene anymore. This has to be between them and them alone.” 

“He’s getting violent! Noah just punched her car!” Chase yelled, not bothering the sleeping drunk on the couch behind him. 

Nick R. stood his ground. “We all know that Noah would never put his hands on Y/N.” 

Reluctantly, Chase nodded with a long sigh. “I know, I know. He might be your brother but she’s my sister. I’m just tired of seeing the same scene unfold between them.” 

Malcolm gently reached for Chase’s hand and brought him back to the far corner they were seated in. 

A loud crack of thunder made Y/N jump closer towards Noah, who instinctively reached for her but held back, not wanting to push her farther than she could handle. 

“What easy way, Noah? This isn’t easy!” Y/N sighed. “None of this is easy!” 

“No it is, actually.” Noah nodded. “Don’t think about anyone or anything else. What do you want from me? What do you want, angel?”

She rapidly shook her head, choking on a sob. “It’s not that simple.”

“What. Do. You. Want?” Noah enunciated every word with a pound fist to his chest. 

When Y/N remained silent, Noah grasped her face to bring her into his warm embrace, even with the rain. “God damn it! What do you want?”

Her eyes darted between Noah’s and her bottom lip caught between her teeth. He watched as she swallowed thickly, anxiously awaiting her answer. 

“I think-,” Y/N stumbled over her words. “I need to clear my head right now.”

Noah’s shoulders drop, disappointment clear on his face. “Are we doing that? Are we back there? What about everything we feel? What about everything that happened hours ago and beyond that. It happened, you know. They’re going to keep fucking happening. We belong together, Y/N.”

The grip on her cheeks tightened, his thumb brushing away the tears or rain, he couldn’t tell, from her cheeks only smearing her make up even more. 

“No! I don’t want to go back there. Noah,” she shook her head the best she could in his tight grasp. “I-I need to grasp all of this! But there’s one thing I know for sure; it’s always been you, Noah.” 

The crushing weight around his heart lifted at hearing her words. Noah’s thumb brushed along her cheek bone. 

“I can stay away if you want me to, but I don’t want to. I know you don’t want me to,” he whispered. 

Y/N whimpered while holding onto his wrists with a tight grip. “I love you, Noah. It was never really over for me.”

“It wasn't over and it still isn’t over,” Noah declared while crashing his lips to hers, locking her into place against her car with his hips. 

Moving fast, sensual, soft and moist and hot and breathy, not trying to win a battle but seeking union and closeness and the sharing of one breath. One sensation. One timeless and passionate moment. Their hearts were electric as the familiar scars faded with their lips upon each other.

The heat rose in Y/N cheeks as her tongue touched Noah’s, quick and electric and delicious, then firmer, more determined. More curious about the heat that lay within, seeking to chase down that elusive liquid lightning that reached through both of them. 

His hands were so soft despite the callous’ on his fingertips. Holding her face so delicately but with pressure.

The others in the house felt as if they should look away, however, given the rollercoaster they were on, they earned a peek at what their inner hearts also yearn for.

Noah’s hips pressed deeper into Y/N and he swallowed her moan, drinking in every part of her that he craved all this time. Her hands tangled through the strands of his hair, secretly reveling at the length. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Noah could pull off any haircut but deep down, she was thankful that the moment she met him, his hair cascaded to his back in glorious dark waves. 

She pulled on the lapels of his leather jacket to bring him closer, her teeth grazing over his bottom lip. 

“Angel,” he moaned into her mouth. 

“Mochi,” she breathed when his cock pressed against her heated core. 

The storm suddenly ceased as soon as their lips met, thunder and lightning no longer. 

There was a commotion coming from inside the house, one that went unnoticed by the two forms molding together; their souls connecting in a way that they so desperately needed.  

“Noah!”

He pulled away from Y/N, hands still on her face and lips parted, drops of the rain falling into his mouth. One more quick kiss upon those bruised lips, he looked up towards Jesse. 

“You have to deal with Bailey.” He said with a stern face. “Now.”

Cursing under his breath, Noah looked back to Y/N. “Don’t leave, alright? Give me a few minutes to deal with her. But I promise, we’re going to finish this.” 

Y/N sniffled while wiping away the rain and make up from her face, giving him a slow nod. 

With one final peck, savoring the sweet taste on her lips, Noah bounded up  the yard with Jesse in tow. However, Nick R. met him half way. 

“I know,” Noah held up his hand. “I’m dealing with it now.” 

“Good,” Nick R. nodded. “Because Bailey locked herself in the bathroom and won’t leave until you talk to her.

However, unbeknownst to Jesse and Noah who slipped back inside, Bailey managed to exit through the back door unseen. She had her gaze on one person, making a beeline towards her. 

“Like I said, you can’t stay away from him!” Bailey screamed. 

Y/N was touching her lips softly, as she remembered the kiss, but looked towards Bailey as she stormed into her. Nick R. was ready to head back inside with the rest of them but as soon as he saw Bailey push Y/N into her car, he quickly changed his path. He couldn’t leave the two of them alone, not when Bailey was drunk and actions were unknown. 

NICK R

I hung back off to the side but not too far as I watched Bailey and Y/N finally have words with each other. 

“You ruined everything!” Y/N brushed Bailey off of her, standing her ground. “This party was for Chase but you couldn’t handle your fucking booze as usual and had to run your mouth!”

“All you had to do was stay away! Why couldn’t you let Noah be happy?” Bailey accused. 

Oh, please. The only time the last time I’d seen Noah happy was when he was with Y/N. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Y/N scoffed with a dry chuckle. “You were the one that was brought into something you couldn’t understand.” 

Something flashed in Bailey’s eyes which made me stand taller in attention. I’ve read the signs. I’ve heard them before. That’s what Bailey didn’t understand. This wasn’t a fling, or a feeling of empty love lost. This was something created by a force no one was sure existed. This wasn’t anyone’s intention. They can’t be apart for too long, the anguish will swallow them whole.

When passion generates within the relationship flows into other areas of life. Bailey disrespected my friend. My best friend’s other half. That just wouldn’t do. 

She could yell, scream, and curse the ground Y/N walked on. It wouldn’t change anything. It will never change the course this is. 

It’s always Noah and Y/N.

“You want to talk about things you don’t understand? You’re delusional if you think your band can hack it without Trey. He was probably in his right mind to leave and do his own thing.” 

Fuck. 

I gazed over towards Y/N and my stomach fell at the broken expression on her face. 

Bailey continued her onslaught, not caring how deep her words were cutting. Noah told me months ago how fucked up Trey was and how long it took Y/N to over come how far he dug himself into her mind. 

“You guys want to be innovative! And be the next big thing but guess what, you’re just going to fall on your face. I got news for you, next time I see your record? Clearance it goes.” 

Y/N took a step forward which in turn made me reach and arm out to keep the space. Her eyes flashed to mine but with a curt nod from me, I allowed her to continue what she was going to say. 

“You don’t know shit about my life or my music,” she hissed with venom. “What, because you read some blogs online and work in a music shop you think you know what’s best?”

Bailey tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I don’t need to know the little details. I know just enough to know you’re never going to make it and you’re gonna ruin Noah’s life.”

“News flash Bailey,  I’ve already fucking made it. With or without Trey, Hollow Souls is where it’s at because of me.” 

Y/N stabbed a finger into her own chest and I couldn’t help the proud smile that played on my lips. 

“And it will continue to thrive because of me. And Malcolm. And chase. Not some girl's opinion who thinks she knows everything because she’s been in our inner circle for all of two months.” 

Bailey opened her mouth to retort but Y/N pushed past my arm so she could get right into her face. 

“I would rather chew concrete than ruin Noah’s life. I love him, I’ve loved him for a long fucking time and fuck you for thinking I’m going to allow you or anyone to intervene. Never again.” 

With a hand on Y/N’s lower back, I motioned towards the house. “Bailey, I think you’re done here. 

All the fight that Bailey had left in her seemed to falter and reluctantly, she turned to retreat back into the house. To do what, it didn’t matter to me. I needed to make sure Y/N was alright. 

“Hey,” I finally forced her to look at me. “Are you alright?” 

“Uh,” she let out a shaky breath while wrapping her arms around herself, shivering. “No. I’m not. It’s been a shit night.” 

“Do you want me to see if Nadine has some clothes for you? Get you out of those wet clothes?” I offered. 

Y/N shook her head. “No, it’s alright. I think I’m going to leave.” 

My stomach dropped for Noah, knowing that he wished for her to stay. But I wouldn’t force Y/N to stay. But what I could do was give her some sense of reassurance. 

“You want to know something cheesy? Something- a little too cliche?” I asked.

“What’s that?” Y/N sniffled with a slight chuckle 

I leaned against the car next to her, both of us staring up at the sudden clear sky; stars sparkling upon us. 

“The reason why it hurts so much is because your souls are connected.”

“Nicholas-.” Y/N started. 

I turned towards her now.  “No. No, I’ve been studying up on things like this, purely out of fun; Well, interest? Maybe genuine boredom but that detail doesn't matter. I’ve watched you both for a while now and it’s clear the two of you were always meant to find one another. I thought this kind of shit only existed in books. Turns out, I’ve watched it happen to my best friend. Noah found you. You’re his other half.” 

She sobbed quietly. “And he’s mine.”

“Yeah,” I nodded with a smile. “He fucking smiles with you, you know. He laughs with you. You mean everything to him. I’ve known this kid since he was 12-.” 

“Did Noah put you up to this?” Y/N questioned.

I shook my head. “No he didn’t tell me to talk to you but as his brother I needed to.”

“I just need-I need a space from this right now, just to get my head together.” Y/N said after a few beats of silence. 

I had some reservations about that, ones that I  made clear as I opened her car door for her, letting her drop in with a huff of a breath. 

“It didn’t work out so well the last time you two had space. So please don’t wait too long, Y/N. One friend to another,  I’m begging you, please, don’t break him. You both love each other. Noah can’t stay away from you and you can’t either.” 

“I know, Nick, I know. I love him, I- just-,” she rested against her head rest.

I lent in her car to start it, quickly turning on the heat, before leaning over the open door once again. 

“Work on your record. Get all this angst out. But don’t make him wait forever,” I said.

“It won’t be, I promise,” Y/N smiled up at me. It was weak and faint but it was there. “Can you tell him I had to go but we’ll talk soon.” 

I buckled her seatbelt, making sure she was safe. “I will. I’ll let Malcolm and Chase know you left too.” 

“Thank you, Nicholas.” 

“Oh Y/N?” I hesitated before shutting the door. 

Broken but hopeful eyes stared up at me. “Hm?” 

“The album release- we’re only a few songs away from mixing and mastering. It’s almost done. Keep an eye out of those deets,” I pointed a playful finger at her.

She smiled again, this time large and bright. “Noted.”

I stood with my hands in my pockets as I watched her pull out of the driveway, giving one final wave as she turned down the block. With a deep breath, I focused my attention on another friend that needed my help. I know that he was dealing with a huge issue inside and he needed to know the truth. 

As I stepped back inside the house, it didn’t surprise me to see that everyone in our inner circle had filled the kitchen as they watched the scene of Noah and Bailey unfold in front of them. 

Chase went to rise to his feet from the kitchen island but I assured him with a tigh smile. 

“She’s okay. She went home,” I mouthed.

That eased Malcolm and Chase only slightly as they went back to watching this mess unfold.

Bailey looked my way but my eyes were locked on Noah and I could see he was one more blow away from breaking. 

It’s intervention time. 

I knew where Noah was headed and it wasn’t good. Bailey let into him, and had no qualms on what she said to Y/N.

If looks could kill.

No scratch that. If Noah could change into a werewolf I think he would. The rage he held in his shoulders was proof enough. 

NOAH

I felt that rage burning low in my gut again as Bailey stood in front of me. I wanted to kick her out, have her find her own way home, but the good part of me knew that it wasn’t right. She was drunk and it was late, something could happen to her and I couldn’t have that on my conscience. Thankfully while I was outside with Y/N, Matt called Bailey an Uber that was minutes away. 

A few more words and this whole mess would be done and over with. 

“Bailey, you need to tell Noah what you said to Y/N,” Nick said as he came up next to me. 

My eyes snapped up from the old, worn, floors and up to her face. “What is he talking about?” 

She shifted on her feet with hesitation before she explained every mean and hurtful thing she told Y/N tonight; no ounce of regret on her face. 

“How could you say that to her?” I snapped while running a wild hand through my hair. “Why?! You think you know everything but you don’t know a fucking thing. My god, you were one of my biggest mistakes. You need to get the fuck out of my house and life. I’m serious.” 

Except, she ignored me and rested her hands on her hips. “Y/N is Angel?” 

My brow furrowed. “Why the fuck does that matter?” 

“Uh,” Bailey hesitated, fidgeting with her nails. “I thought that’s what you called me because when I saw the contact in your phone-.” 

“What the fuck,” I doubled back, head swirling in disbelief. “You went through my phone?”

A low whistle sounded from the kitchen but I didn’t have to look to see that it came from Matt. 

Betrayal dug its knife deeper into my chest. 

“I-I-just wanted to see what you were hiding-,” Bailey stammered. “I looked through your phone. I had this feeling you were hiding something from me. I thought it was my name but the texts didn’t match up.” 

Suddenly, the little light bulb in my head clicked on. 

“That’s how you know about Y/N’s endometriosis. You saw the group chat with me, Malcolm, and Chase?” 

Bailey remained silent, only nodded to give me an answer. 

“What the fuck, Bailey?! You know how private I am but yet you still went through something of mine!” I began to pace the room, running a hand over my face. 

“I heard the voicemail, Noah! I just thought if we talked it out- I don’t know. We could work it out,” Bailey blew out a shaky breath. 

I came to a halt in front of her. “There’s nothing to work out, Bailey. We're done; finished. You never should have been in the picture to begin with. 

“Noted,” she nodded. “It’s Y/N, isn’t it? It’s always about her! I knew it. I should have followed my gut!” 

A look flashed across her face. “You’ve thought about her..with me didn’t you?” 

Everyone’s eyes landed on me like a burning itch to the back of my neck. 

“Bailey,” I sighed, suddenly done with this conversation.  

“She’s the one, isn’t she?” Bailey questioned, all the anger gone from her eyes and voice. 

There was no use in denying the truth any longer. Y/N and I confessed our love for each other, it was time everyone else knew about it. Although, I’m sure they already did. 

When I finally nodded to Bailey, it hit like a ton of bricks. She said those things, she uttered them. She spit at the face my soul was intertwined with. 

I dare put my angel through this. That’s over now; never again will I put in the crossfires of someone else’s demons. This was my last battle. I could sense Bailey understood, but she wasn’t grasping with the idea that I wasn’t hers. She needed to let go.

There was something in the way I shouted at her earlier, a pain behind it. “How could you speak to her that way?” 

My heart hurt, my hand clutching my chest in anguish. It’s as if I could feel her pain physically. 

Must be a soulmate thing. 

Nicholas watched me, he watched my eyes then he knew. 

The anger was nothing but a shield for pain, like a cornered soldier randomly throwing out grenades, scared for his life, lonely, desperate. I breathed in real slowly. 

What if nothing blew up? What if Bailey just truly didn’t grasp this?

With a deep breath, I rested my hands on my hips. “Bailey. I’m sorry. I wish I could give you what you’re looking for but I can’t.”

Once again my emotions turn jagged and my insides tight.  I waited, wide eyed and heart in my mouth, hoping for kindness, when I explained this again.

“I didn’t want to hurt you. It was never my intention. I sincerely apologize,” I continued. “I fucked up and admit that. It was never supposed to get this far.  I just-I’ll never get over these feelings for her. She’s all I think about. I love her and although I'm not proud you were caught in the crossfire. I’m not sorry for who I love. It’s always her, that’s my angel.”

Finally, a hint of a smile cracked on her stone face. “I already know what this was. There’s a part of you that you kept closed off from everyone, including me. It’s as if I wasn't the one you were really with. Your mind was always on her.”

My face twitched as she cupped my cheek “Don’t let her slip away, Noah. It will be the biggest regret and I don’t want to see it destroy you.”

I gently removed her hand and nodded. “Thank you. Again, I’m sorry.” 

“I apologize for the scene I caused tonight. That wasn't mature of me. I was hurt but this wasn’t fair to any of you,” Bailey began to sober up. “I also owe a big one to Y/N.” 

“Well make sure to let her know.” 

“Uber is here,” Matt shook his phone while walking to the front door, opening it for it. 

With a tight smile, Bailey grabbed her things and quickly ran out the door. Matt, with a two finger salute, kicked the door shut and locked it for good measure. 

“Good fucking riddance,” he muttered under his breath. 

“Wait, Y/N’s still outside,” I shed off my jacket, tossing it on the railing of the staircase. “Let her in.” 

“Noah,” Nick spoke up. “She left.” 

My eyes snapped over to him, heart rate intensifying as my breathing became harsh and ragged. 

“She told me she’d stay,” I swallowed thickly. 

My ears rang with white noise as the room began to close in around me. 

“Don’t panic Noah, I spoke to her,” Nick reassured me with a hopeful smile. 

“But-,” I shook my head. 

“It’s okay. Y/N just needs to work through this. It’s a new phase Noah. You both have to get passed through some shit. You love each other. You are going to be together. Just have some hope.”

Knowing there was nothing I could do at this moment, I nodded and thought about that one word. 

Hope. 

Hope is in the way I feel like I can smile, in the way we are quiet when she can reach out with her eyes. 

Gathering strength to make a better choice, to breathe and let love have a moment to guide me, to guide us.

I knew Y/N needed a little space after this. I knew that, perhaps I needed space as well. To feel love and be loved back. 

We love each other. We love each other. 

I still had a few things I needed to work out, and I think she might too. 

Hope is in that soft shrug of hers, the playfulness of her smile. Every time we reach for the sun.

Maybe when we’re not so different, we will make amends and no longer having to pretend.

Nick’s voice was faltering as I sped up the stairs towards my bedroom where my phone was, still perfectly perched on my desk; almost as if Bailey set it back in the exact spot it was before she looked through it. 

Me: Why’d you leave?

Message Undeliverable. 

“What the fuck?” I muttered while sending another text. 

Me:  I understand you have some things to work on and so do I. But please don’t stray too far, Y/N. I’ll wait for years if I have to. 

Message Undeliverable. 

Fuck. 

There was a chance her phone was off but that didn’t deter me from stopping. 

Me: I love you. 

I breathed out a chuckle when I saw the text bubble turn blue, meaning the text went through. 

Angel 🪽: I love you too, mochi.

The corner of my lips curled up in a smile as that word echoed in my mind again. 

Hope. 

As I stood in front of the bathroom mirror shirtless and a pair of warm gray joggers, sometime after setting my phone back down, I had the scissors on one end of the counter and a buzzer on the other. A soft knock sounded on the opened door and I gave a weak smile to Folio. 

“Are you doing alright?” He questioned while leaning against the doorframe. 

“It hurts, knowing that once again there’s this space between us but the outcome is different this time around. For once, there’s hope.” 

“It’ll be okay man,” he assured me.

“I know.” 

Folio pushed himself off the door frame to hope up on the bathroom counter. “There’s no fucking universe where yall don’t end up together.”

“Thank you for your optimism,” I smiled lightly. 

"It’s true! Somehow in every universe you end up together. Whether you two are married with a son named Kenji or she joins us on the road together after the two of you spend one night together."

My heart fluttered at the sound of those alternate lives. “Kenji? Let me guess-we kick Matt’s ass in Mai tai?”

“Yes, bro!” Folio smacked my chest. “ Y/N is always meant to be there, Noah.” 

I leaned against the opposite wall. “It’s wild how thought out you have this idea of me and Y/N.” 

“Ah, I don’t know,” he shrugged with that goofy smile. “I can see it. There’s other universes out there, you know? I watched this special about it on Discovery+ or some shit.”

“That so?” I raised a brow with a chuckle. 

“Yeah, who knows. But I believe y’all will be.”

We fell in silence for a long beat before it was me who smacked his chest. "Michelle has you watching these specials, huh?”

Folio scoffed while rolling his eyes. “She barely pays attention after she asks to put it on.” 

I couldn't help but laugh, imagining Y/N snoozing on my lap after we watched another episode of I Think You Should Leave. 

“I can’t wait to have that,” I admitted. 

“In time. I promise you. I'm your friend, and I know. Take the time you both need. Heal. I’m a firm believer in patience when you’re trying to catch a good one. Trust me, I’m a fisherman,” Folio grinned while adjusting his fishing cap. 

“Fucking fishboy,” I rolled my eyes with a smile. 

 A hopeful one.

“So what’s with that?” He pointed to the scissors. 

I shrugged while holding the scissors now. “I’ve had all this weight at the back of my neck for years now. I need something new, a breath of fresh air. I’m suffocating. I need to see the back of my fucking neck, man.”  

“I’m not going to be here in case you regret that decision,” Folio patted my shoulder before jumping off the counter, leaving me alone yet again. 

With a long breath, I gathered my hair in a low ponytail, keeping it in one hand while I brought the scissors to it, the sound of chopping echoing in the small bathroom.

“Hang up my shame on display for you,” I sang low as I held up the cut ponytail in front of my face.

I shivered when a cold breeze brushed against the nape of my neck, reveling in the feeling. 

When there was no light, when there was nothing beyond the boundaries of my skin, hope was a ladder woven of heaven’s vibrations that spoke right to my healing soul. 

Hopes was a ladder that both Y/N and I could make it to the top. Because I believe it's destined in our hearts.

All I knew is that Y/N loves me back.

She fucking loves me.

[timdoubleyou]

i found jay’s black jacket (an ID guide)

This black jacket is worn by Jay about 9 times throughout Marble Hornets, including his final appearance. And after some weeks of on-and-off research, I think I know the exact make and model.

This post will detail exactly how I found it, and serve as a guide for anyone that wants to find the jacket, whether that's for cosplay purposes, or if you're just keen on collecting items related to MH.

Main post under the cut

Intro

The first step to identifying the jacket was to gather as many references as possible.

I went back to the web series and took screenshots from any entries the jacket makes an appearance. (shoutout to mg549′s very comprehensive MH wardrobe guide, without it this would’ve been much more of a pain)

Jay's jacket is, for the most part, very plain. It's a solid color, full-zip jacket, without any particularly eye-catching logos or other details. I had to look for moments where even the slightest distinction appeared clear on camera, at least as distinct as it can be. Even if it was just close-ups to get the shape of a zipper, or how many buttons are on a sleeve, it was the best I got. While I did manage to find a decent amount of these, there was just one crucial detail that would've made finding it near-impossible; the brand is never shown. Thankfully, I had another resource.

In 2018 Troy Sold a Lot of Stuff

In early 2018, Troy officially announced that MH would be continued in a comic series. To fund the first issue, he held a number of auctions for production items used during the web series on Ebay.

These included items such as Jay’s camera, Brian’s hoodie, A Masky mask, and Jay’s black jacket.

Lo and behold, the jacket listing includes a picture with the brand in clear view. It's from Gap.

Ebay does not archive sold listings older than 90 days. However, Worthpoint, a website for valuing and pricing collectibles, does. Using Worthpoint I was able to find all of these items, (and a lot more, which can be found in this doc I submitted to Archive Hornets)

Identification

With the picture from the listing and the series screencaps, I had a complete ID list.

(Top image is from the Ebay listing, with the contrast adjusted a little for easier viewing. The bottom two images are from Entry #79)

The Gap logo (This specific logo dates the jacket being made anywhere between 1986 and 2009, when it first appears).

Front Zipper (Note the shape)

The two front pockets

The two buttons and pointed cuffs on each sleeve (Second one is a little hard to see but it's jusstt peeping out at the side)

The blue piping in the inner lining

The zipper in the right side inner lining

The gray mesh inner lining

With these in mind, I could now go to the next and longest step-

Finding the Jacket

I combed three resell sites; Ebay, Depop, and Poshmark. My main goal wasn't to actually purchase the jacket, (although, I would like to at some point) but to find a jacket listing that had every identifier, and have a more definite baseline for finding others. I needed to be sure what I had was enough to properly ID the jacket. The references I had stitched together were decent enough, but I wanted to see if there was something better out there.

After tons of page scrolling and tab-switching and comparing and contrasting, I finally got lucky.

(first two images are from crashthecloset's listing on poshmark, last six are from shannfo-76 on ebay)

I haven't bought one myself as of posting, but I feel pretty confident this is it. The jackets were already sold, but every marker seemed to be accounted for. It also revealed new ones, like the reflective pattern and pockets on the inner lining, (zipper on the right side pocket, button on the left pocket) and the materials tag.

With that, here's some final notes that may be helpful if you try looking for the jacket yourself:

Online sellers often describe it as a light jacket, a windbreaker, a 2-in-1, or 3-in-1.

"Gap Mens Black Jacket" is the search phrase I used the most since it yielded a (very) broad result pool.

Most of the jackets I found came from Poshmark or Ebay.

The exact size of Jay’s jacket is unclear. My best guesses are either a US Men’s S or M, since Jay was pretty skinny and of average height. I’ve only been able to find maybe 2 jackets that are a size M, one of which is the first pic in the photoset above.

Gap has sold other black jackets that look remarkably similar to Jay’s, and they do pop up on resell sites. One of these was so similar, the only discernible difference was the style of the logo. I highly recommend making sure it matches the exact one Jay had before purchasing. (It's also more than fine to ask/msg me if you have any doubts!) As long as you know what to look for, you shouldn’t have a problem finding at least one.

One detail that confounded me was this sleeve poking out of Jay's jacket. At first I thought he was wearing a long sleeve underneath, making this shot a continuity error since he appeared to Only be wearing the green short sleeve under the jacket.

@hivemite pointed out that this might be a two-in-one jacket, which has multiple layers for different types of weather. While I have not been able to see the sleeve outside of two shots in entry #79 and #80, one listing I found did describe it as a 3-in-1.

that's about it! hope this helps :)