#okay that’s all my thoughts i think i just got So overwhelmingly upset about this…

[erwinsvow]

𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

summary: lying to rafe is never a good idea.

author's note: eeee! back to writing for my man <3 this can be seen as a sequel to suit the mood of my soul as it follows the plot a little bit but not really, as there's no direct mentions of pogue!reader in this! i just wanted to write a little about what rafe would be like if he find out you lied/what he would do... :) inspired by @princessbrunette for the dad/kid trope she writes about and this one!

now spinning: prisoner by the weeknd & lana

word count: 3.8k

warnings/tags: smut! rafe is a lil scary in this one but it's okay <3, gripping/bruising, face slapping as punishment, daddy/dad usage for rafe and reader is called kid a lot.

“So, what’d you do the other night?” Rafe asks you the question quietly, and he sounds different than usual.

You haven’t really noticed the change yet though, so you act like you always do around him—a little dumber, not as vigilant, and using your brain less overall.

That’s the best part of being with Rafe. He makes all the decisions for you, he figures out what to do and when to do it, and you really don’t have to think around him. At first you were confused, if not a little worried. Did he think you were stupid?

But then you realize this is how he is—so overpoweringly, overwhelmingly dominant that you have no choice but to succumb.

So you go on, unthinking, saying what comes to mind. 

“I was with you, Rafey, did you forget already?” It comes out with a laugh, making yourself comfortable against his chest.

He’d just come over less than an hour ago, after dinner with his family, he had said. He always spent the night after doing anything with his family, because they made him angry and you made him feel better. At least, that’s what he always said.

So it’s easy to attribute his difference in demeanor, the strangeness surrounding your normally nice boyfriend, to a bad dinner with his family. He must have been more upset than you thought.

“Hm,” he says, slowly, curtly. “Is that right?”

“Yes, Rafey, dinner and the ice cream? Remember it melted all over your hand?” Your face flushes even thinking about it—because immediately following that incident, you had licked his hands clean. 

“Yeah, I remember. You have a good memory, kid.” 

You beam at his praise for a second, leaning your head up to stare at your pretty boyfriend for a second. But he doesn’t look down at you the way he normally does. He doesn’t look at all, instead his gaze is still fixed on the television, which is still playing one of your silly rom-coms quietly in the background. 

“Rafe?” it comes out like a whisper, but he ignores you, his grip on your arm tightening while he continues to stare off, not at you.

“Try to remember something else for me, kid. Night before last, what’d you do?” 

You freeze under his touch. Your entire body goes rigid, eyes wide, lips parting. You want to speak, but nothing comes out.

Then, Rafe looks down at you. 

“Can’t remember now? Should I refresh your memory?”

You don’t need him to refresh anything. On the night before last, Sarah had asked you for help with something in the Tannyhill library. You had gone to help, because this was more than just Rafe’s sister, she was your friend too, but when you got there, you were confused. Sarah was there, but so were all the Pogues you had seen around town, seen with her before. 

They were all digging through the shelves, looking for something in the library, and Sarah called you over because everyone in the Cameron house was aware of the fact that you knew this library like the back of your hand. Months of babysitting Wheezie and not having anything to do had led to this very situation. Until you became Rafe’s, that is, because ever since then, you haven’t had to spend another moment alone. 

So then you helped them search for whatever it was they were looking for, and when your phone went off with a message from Rafe, at Sarah’s urging, you lied and said you were at home with your parents.

The Pogues found it eventually, after almost two hours of combing through shelves and trying your best to organize them the way they were. You went home, texted Rafe goodnight, and thought that was that.

It wasn’t a lie, you tried to convince yourself. It was a fib, really, because you just didn’t want him to worry even more when he had so much going on. And it’s not like you knew what Sarah was even up to, she said it was just a little project. 

You didn’t realize what kind of project until now.

“Um, Rafe-” you start, really quiet.

You falter when you get a better look at the expression on his face. It’s the first time you’ve ever been on the receiving end of that look—anger, disappointment, frustration.

Your eyes get watery, immediately. It’s just a natural reaction. 

“You think some tears are gonna get you out of this?” he questions, and you feel your breathing getting heavy, your cheeks getting wet.

You shake your head quickly. You don’t want him to think you’re crying for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry-” comes out before you can stop it, and you try to use the sleeves of your hoodie—Rafe’s hoodie—to wipe the tears away, thinking it’ll be better if he can’t see them any longer, but he grabs your wrist before you can.

You’re pinned in place, his hand gripping you and holding you down, the weight of his body on yours. It’s all you can do to look up Rafe with your wide, wet eyes and hope he listens to you. 

He’s never been mad at you before, so he doesn’t know how to react. You’ve always been perfect to him, for him, and he’s never had to do anything more than take your cheeks in his hand and lock eyes to make you realize you’re doing something wrong.

He didn’t think you could be capable of doing something to hurt him, to get in the way of everything he’s planning, not when you’re so compliant and docile and perfect all the other times. 

You have a collection of pretty dresses and skirts, ranging in lengths and sizes, and you always wear the right thing. Modest, longer dresses that stop above your knee and start just under the necklace you never take off—the necklace with his initial on it—when you’re invited to dinner at Tannyhill with his family.

Shorter, small skirts when he takes you to the club or the bonfire. Short enough that people are staring, not short enough to give anyone a view of what belongs to him.

In his bedroom, it’s just his clothes—shirts to sleep in, hoodies when you’re reading a book on his bed while he finishes his game at the desk, nothing more than one of your tanks and a pair of his boxers when you’re getting antsy and horny waiting for him to get back to bed when he’s on an important phone call. 

He’s never had to tell you any of that—you just do it, you just know it. He doesn’t have to tell you to go wait on his bed for him without complaining. He doesn’t have to tell you he doesn’t like when his friends are seeing parts of you they aren’t supposed to. But most important of all, he didn’t have to tell you to stay away from those dirty Pogues and his annoying sister. You were just supposed to know.

“You’re sorry?” he questions, and you know he’s mocking you. Rafe’s gone quiet, which you’re not used to because Rafe never gets mad at you. You didn’t even think it was possible.

He lets go of your wrist, which flails next to your side. His grip is replaced quickly as he squeezes your cheeks together, fingers pressing hard against your jaw.

“You’re sorry, really, is that all? You lied to me. You think that’s okay?”

Your breathing gets hard and fast under his touch. Your eyes get watery again, trying to say something but it’s silenced between Rafe’s fingers keeping your mouth shut.

You shake your head as hard as you can. You just want to explain yourself—it seemed so harmless when you were doing it. You didn’t want to worry him. You didn’t realize what you were doing. You’d never do it again if Rafe will forgive you.

Then you get scared, eyes wide and blank while your boyfriend stares at you, looking so upset and angry you wish you could reverse time and take it all bank. You worry that he won’t forgive you, that he’ll end things and leave you alone, and the thought itself is so frightening you start sobbing and shaking.

Rafe’s hand leaves your face because he gets surprised at your reaction—he thought you’d be telling him something he really, really doesn’t want to hear, but true to your perfect form, you say exactly what he does want to hear. 

“I’m so sorry Rafe, I’m so sorry, they asked me for help but I would have never done it if-if I knew it would hurt you or make you upset, I-I didn’t know-” It all comes out in a ramble, hurt coating your words and tears streaming down in rivulets down your pretty face.

He’s worried he might have gone too far, scared you too much, but you jump back in his arms the second he’s let go of you, face pressed against his chest and his shirt getting wet. 

“I’m so sorry, please don’t break up with me, I’ll never do it again, I’ll never even talk to them again, I swear, I promise-” 

It’s instinctual, Rafe wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. He wonders how he did this—changed the sweet, pretty girl he met on a trip with Wheezie to the library into the girl in his arms now—utterly dependent, crying because of him but not making a single move to defend yourself.

Instead you believe everything he says and you’re sobbing because you don’t want him to leave you. He wonders again, thinking about if he should regret what he’s done to you. 

He doesn’t.

“Shh,” he comforts, and you lean into him further. “S’okay, it’s okay.” He rubs your arms soothingly, ignoring the red down further on the limb, which is inevitably a bruise forming. “I’m not gonna leave you.”

When the words leave his mouth, you melt against his chest like butter, and he grips you tight.

“I’m sorry, kid, I am, but I have to make sure that-that, you don’t do something that could mess up everything I’m working on right now.” You mewl a noise of protest, but he quiets you down again. “Even if it’s an accident, baby, even by accident. You don’t know the things I’m trying to protect you from. I can’t let you get hurt like that, so when you lie to me about something like this, it just upsets me, because I’m working hard for you—for us, and you see that, don’t you?” 

He feels you nod your head slowly.

“I’m so sorry, Rafe,” and he lets out a heavy breath. You cling to his every word, wondering how you could have been so, so stupid, as to lie to your boyfriend. 

“It’s okay, kid,” his hand moves to your back, rubbing circles on the soft skin, hand tucked under his hoodie and above the waistband of his shorts that you’re wearing.

“Do you forgive me?” you ask, lifting your head a few inches to look up at Rafe, wet eyelashes floating up to reveal red-rimmed, puffy eyes.

He looks down, wondering just how much he’s messed you up.

“Of course I do.” Rafe leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You let out a sigh of relief, too soon. “But you have to promise me a couple things, hm?”

“Anything, anything-” it spills out of your mouth, like you can’t get it out fast enough, looking back up at your boyfriend with big eyes, trying to use your hands against his chest to lift yourself up. 

“Promise me you’ll never talk to those Pogues again.”

“I promise.”

“And that you’ll never, ever lie to me again.”

“I promise, Rafe.”

“Good girl.”

He does that thing again, the thing that has you melting in his hands and allowing him to call all the shots. He reaches out to take the back of your head in his hand, leaning you in for a kiss, and you let him do it, just like you let him do everything. 

Rafe kisses you hard, his tongue in your mouth and trails of spit around your lips. When he lets go, you feel him bit down on your bottom lip, and you yelp against his mouth, but it’s silenced because he pulls you into another kiss.

You’re breathless by the end of it, crawling into his lap because you don’t want it to end, craving a lot more than just a kiss and the press of his hard dick against your clothed pussy. 

When he pulls away, you make another noise of displeasure.

“Really?” he questions, and you know it can’t be good. “Do you really think you deserve this dick now? After that shit you just pulled?” He holds you in place on his lap, stopping your grinding motion with his firm hand. Your face heats up immediately, because you know that you don’t. 

“‘M’sorry, dad,” your murmur against the soft skin of his neck. “You already forgave me…”

“Not getting out of this that easily, kid,” and he pulls you by the hair, making your shoulders tense up as you moan again in discomfort. “I think you need to decide your punishment, hm? You’ll get this dick once you get punished.”

You want to scream in annoyance, because Rafe always knows what he’s doing, and right now he’s doing it on purpose. You can feel his hard-on, and if he let you do what you wanted, you’d fall apart in minutes, but he won’t, because he never does.

So you don’t say a thing, because you can’t ever be a brat to Rafe, not for anything longer than five minutes, and you crawl down, off the bed, sitting on your knees on the ground while Rafe adjusts himself to face you from the bed. He looks down at you, perfectly in place, nose still a little red from crying. 

“So, how many?” he questions, watching you stare up at him with big eyes.

“Five,” you start, until you see how Rafe’s looking at you. “T-ten, sorry, ten.” 

“Good girl,” he says, stroking the side of your face with his hand. “Five on each side, hm? That’s what you meant to say, right?”

“Yes, dad,” you murmur back, in a daze at the feeling of Rafe’s hand on your skin.

The first slap, on your right cheek, is light, lighter than you’re used to. It was barely a tap, and you think quickly, while staring at your boyfriend’s face expectantly, if not a little dumbly, that it was nice of him. The next three are harder, and the final one stings. You’re sure it’s red where his hand was, a part of you even hopes it left a mark.

“Five left,” he says quietly, maybe more to himself than to you. You nod, a little too eagerly. “Yeah, kid, you like this? I knew you would. Little freak,” Rafe breathes out. You cling to each word like it’s praise. “Ready for the other side? Yeah?” You nod again.

He’s harder on the other side, maybe because he realized you can handle it. You’ve gotten much harder slaps than these before, but Rafe forgets sometimes, so he always starts gentle. On the ninth one, your eyes get watery. On the tenth, the tears roll down again. Rafe takes his thumb and wipes it across your cheek, like it’ll soothe the sting. 

You go to unbuckle his belt immediately after, thinking you should make him feel good first, as a part of your punishment, but he stops your hands before you get far, taking you by the shoulders and lifting you up into his lap again.

“What’re you doing?” you question quietly.

“I should ask you that.”

“Y-you said I don’t deserve it yet, so I was gonna make you feel good-”

“I didn’t say that, kid,” he says, pressing his big hand against your neck. 

“Yes, you-” he looks at you sharply, and you shut up mid-sentence. 

“No, I said you’ll get it once you’ve been punished. Punishment’s over, hm?” His hand slips underneath your hoodie—his hoodie—and he starts to lift it up. Your hands go up, helping him ease it off. Once it’s discarded on the floor, you lean in for another hard kiss, hands around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist. 

“Easy, easy,” he says, pulling away for a second. “Have to breathe, remember?”

You shake your head and whine, pushing your lips together again. Rafe moves you quickly, your back thudding against the bed and him hovering over you.

You scramble to get rid of your shorts—his shorts—but Rafe’s hands come up and stop yours before you can. Locking eyes with you, he takes them off himself, until you’re fully exposed and lying naked against his pillow.

Another kiss, another whine. You pull the front of Rafe’s shirt.

“Take it off, please,” you whimper, because you just want to get him naked and get on with it, but the tantalizingly slow pace he’s setting is killing you. 

“Really gonna tell me what to do right now? When I’m being so nice?” Your head shakes but you don’t know if you mean it. “Okay. If that’s how you wanna be, okay.”

He flips you over in one motion—your stomach hitting the sheets before you can process it. You don’t hear anything except the rustle of his hands on his belt, the clink of the metal falling, and a groan from Rafe.

And then you feel him—feel what you’ve been begging for this entire time, the nudge of his tip against your folds. Your whole body tenses and your walls clench in anticipation, but Rafe doesn’t move. 

“Rafe—!” the whine leaves before you can think about it. Rafe’s hand reaches out to grab you by your hair, pulling your head up, his mouth against your ear. You feel your nipples harden and pebble in the air, every part of your body craving something, some touch, some movement.

“Y’know, I thought you were gonna be such a good girl,” he starts, and you feel your walls flutter. “But you’re acting like such a slut today. But it’s okay, I’m gonna give you what you want. Then you’ll be good as gold, won’t ya?” You let a whine at the thought, before Rafe lets go and drops you back onto the bed.

In one thrust, Rafe pushes himself in, and your entire body tenses up at the feeling. The stretch of your walls hurts, no matter how used to him you get, and your bones feel like putty. You can hardly hold yourself up, when Rafe starts fucking you at the brutal pace he’s set. 

The stinging of your face disappears from your mind completely while Rafe batters your pussy, his hands on your back, pushing down while you arch up. Your cheek rustles against the pillow. Nothing comes out of your mouth except whines and moans, and the occasional cry when he goes even harder.

“Just needed this dick, huh, kid?” he chokes out, pressing your face into the pillow and watching his dick slide in and out of your pussy—coated in your cream, leaking down and making a mess of his sheets. “Ain’t that right? I asked you a question.”

He grabs your hair again, lifting you just enough so you can speak. 

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes-”

“That’s what I thought-” and he pushes your head down again. “J’needed to be set straight, hm? You won’t ever lie to me again—” Your voice is a mess of garbles and whines, not making any sense but wanting to agree with Rafe so badly. 

Rafe’s fucking you like he hates you, and you don’t have it in you to stop and make sure he doesn’t actually hate you, because the only thing you can think about is making sure he doesn’t stop.

“Or maybe you will,” he starts, in between thrusts. “Just wanna get fucked like this, don’t you? Wasn’t enough for you to get it gentle, right, kid? You’re my little slut-” 

Rafe’s hitting that part of you that makes you see stars—unrelenting, over and over again, but it’s all of those things together—the feel of your nipples rubbing against the bed, how full you feel inside, and especially the words he’s saying—that push you over the edge. You fall apart crying, body shaking, letting out a muffled dad, dad, dad against his pillow. 

He doesn’t stop there, though, riding you through it and then pulling out, just long enough to flip you back over. 

You’re sensitive all over, your walls clenching around nothing while you stare up at Rafe, and then back down to where the two of you were connected. He grips your cheeks again, pushing himself in and staring at your fucked-out face.

He’s way too close to still be fucking you—especially raw, like this—but it’s not until you start speaking that it’s a big problem. You sound all jumbled up since he’s holding your face way too tight, and when he loosens his grip, words fall out of your mouth and he realizes what you’re saying.

“Want it inside, dad, please, please, please, fill me up—” And he finishes, leaning over you and filling your pussy up, just like you asked for. He doesn’t stop for what feels like hours but could only be minutes—you mewl at the feeling and gasp when he pulls out, cum leaking out of your hole and spoiling the sheets even further.

Rafe’s breathless, collapsing beside you and in a much better mood, because he doesn’t complain when you fall against his chest and press your face into his neck. 

He lets you sit like that for a little bit, catching your breath and letting your heart rate return to normal. 

“We made a mess,” you comment, still feeling gushes of his cum spilling out of you. 

“We’ll get it in a minute.” 

He can practically hear your thoughts, buzzing through your little head at a mile a minute, wondering what to say, how he feels, if he's still upset, probably wanting water and a shower too.

You move a little, just to get more comfortable, when Rafe grabs your face again. The side of your jaw is red from where he keeps grabbing you. It’ll leave a bruise tomorrow. He doesn’t care because he’s not planning to let you out of his sight for the foreseeable future.

“Don’t lie to me again, kid. Got it?”

“Yes, Rafe,” you breathe out. "I got it."

“Good. Now let's finish this stupid movie." Rafe lets go of your face, and wraps his arm around you. 

[samkerrworshipper]

the call up

leah williamson x reader

please keep sending requests in i need some fuel!

angst, panic attacks, pain, mentions of abuse of power, mentions of abuse, a short 4000 words im posting this at 2am so sorry for any typos or little things i might have missed x

my heart breaks for the espwnt as they navigate their current situation and i’ve been thinking a lot about it so here’s this little fic ❤️

blurb: you got the news notification, not a text, not a call, a fucking new notification that had broken your heart into a million different pieces

———————————————————————

I was consciously ignoring the sound of furious knocking against the bathroom door, but not on purpose. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, I’d felt that way ever since I’d gotten the news notification and then the follow up text from Alexia asking if I was okay. No I wasn’t okay, but I’d told her I was fine anyway. It was a blur to me what had happened after that, I’d thrown my phone at a wall, knowing that my phone was probably 30 seconds off of lighting up furiously with more notifications. How could they do this to us? How could they do it to me? After that I’d stumbled my way into my ensuite, finding it hard to see properly with the tears that were crowding my eyes. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think beyond the thought of how this was actually happening.

I’d staggered my way into the shower, cranking the water to its highest point and sitting myself down on the floor. I was bawling my eyes out but I couldn’t really feel it, all I felt was numbness, overwhelmingly numb. The shower water was boiling hot but the searing liquid felt perfect against my skin, it did wonders to comfort the iciness inside of me. It also drowned out the neverending sound of me sobbing furiously into my own skin. I was still wearing my clothes, still dressed in the same t-shirt and shorts that I’d been wearing when I’d gotten the notification. I was scratching furiously at my legs, seeking out the relief that the mixture of pain and burning gave me.

How was this the world that we were living in? How was it that in the current world that we lived in I didn’t even have a basic human right? I was a sobbing, trembling mess just thinking about it all.

How was I supposed to go there and pretend that everything was fine, that I didn’t want to claw my throat out just at the thought of being in the presence of some of those people. It was insanity, pure insanity. I was a fucking world champion, one of the best players in the world and yet here I was, back to square one. What was the point in us even signing a treaty if they were just going to flat out ignore it anyways. It made me sick to my stomach, in what world was this okay, in what world was this how we lived?

Leah would probably hate me, hate me for being ungrateful for the opportunity, hate me for not taking a chance to play when she couldn’t. I was being fucking childish, it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal, shouldn’t have been that upsetting. I was being given the opportunity to play the sport I loved for my country, so why did everything about it feel so wrong? Why couldn’t I find a part of my heart that was happy that I’d been called up, happy about the prospect of playing for my country. I should have been happy, should have been excited, should have been bewildered that they were asking for me to come back even after I’d told the press about all the abuse, it was a miracle really. My heart went out to Mapi, my best friend who I knew would be absolutely devastated that she’d been called up, she’d rejected a call-up to the world cup because of her views and now that was invalidated, everything she’d stood for was going out the window, much like the rest of us.

It was the knocking that brought me out of my spiral, it was non-stop, loud and furious.

“Y/n, I’m coming in sweetheart.”

It was Leah’s voice, both so gentle and stern at the same time. I didn’t take my head out of my knees as I heard the door to our ensuite open, I must have forgotten to lock it in the flurry of emotions that had gotten me to the shower floor. I heard Leah step cautiously into the room, probably taking in her surroundings and the state I was in. Then I heard the door to the shower opening and I couldn’t help but pull my head out of the spot in between my legs to look at her. She looked flustered, her hair and clothes dishevelled and nothing like what they’d looked like when she’d left this morning to take our dogs on a walk and meet up with Keira for coffee.

“Oh darling.”

I knew I probably looked like a mess, mascara smudged all over my red eyes. She reached out to comfort me but immediately recoiled when her skin made contact with the water, letting out a string of profanities towards the water,

“Fuck, you’re burning yourself,” She said, her eyes flashing with fear as she reached towards the temperature dial, immediately turning it down to a more luke warm temperature.

“No, I need to feel clean,” I reached up to turn the water controls back to my previous temperature btu Leah’s hand stopped me, her hands gently gathering my own in hers.

“You are clean y/n,” Her voice was a mere whisper, her voice hoarse as she hurriedly slipped off her shirt and shorts before climbing into the shower with me, just left in her sports bra and boxer shorts.

“Dirty,” I choked out, flinching away from her as she snaked an arm around my body.

“You are not dirty y/n/n,” her voice was stern, she was speaking to me with the intention to get past my internalised barriers that were trying to block her out, trying to block out her attempts to convince me that my self deprecating thoughts were wrong.

As soon as she noticed my hands falling down to my legs to continue scratching at them to get some release she put a stop to it, her own hands intertwining with mine and bringing them to her chest.

“I know there are a lot of twisted thoughts going through your head right now sweetheart, I know that this whole situation is so fucked up, beyond it being okay but I’m here for you.”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like every breath that I was taking in was lacking in oxygen and everything I needed to be able to fucking breathe.

“How can they do this? How can they make us do this?”

Leah just shook her head at me, because we both knew she didn’t have an answer, that as much as I leaned on her to give me an answer for everything she just couldn’t in this situation.

“I don’t know.”

Her words were rocky, splotchy, it reflected everything that I was feeling in that moment.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m being ungrateful, I mean you can’t even play and I’m sitting her complaining about the fact I’m being given the opportunity to play,”

“You aren’t being given an opportunity, you are being forced to play. You are allowed to be annoyed about that, it’s not being ungrateful. We live in a world where as women we are supposed to be grateful about every single fucking opportunity we are given but this isn’t a opportunity my love, it’s fucking abuse, especially after what those men did to you.”

I shivered at Leah’s words, just thinking about everything that I’d given to that team just to be fucking abused and assaulted, it had taken so much therapy for me to acknowledge that it had been abuse, that it hadn’t been deserved, that I deserved better.

“I can’t go back, I can’t do it,” Leah nodded at me, pressing her lips to my forehead under the spray of the shower and nodding against my skin.

“That’s okay, we’ll sort it out, I’ll call Ale and we’ll figure it out. If you don’t want to go you don’t have to, we can't risk your mental health for fucking soccer.”

“They’ll take my licence, they’ll fine me, I’ll never be allowed back, they’ll find a way to invalidate my passport and I’ll never get to see my family again,”

“That’s a bridge we can cross, we’ll figure it out, what matters most is that you are okay.”

I didn’t feel okay, I felt like I was tearing at the seams, like seeing that news notification pop up on my screen as I’d been catching up on the most recent episode of the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills was probably the worst moment of my life.

“You do feel safe, y/n?”

I shook my head, burying deep into Leah’s neck, trying to get as far away from the world as I could.

“I love you y/n, I will never stop loving you, no matter what happens, you are stuck with me, so even if thats hard to believe I need you to know that, I need you to think about that. Let’s get you out of the shower, yeah?”

She was right, I didn’t believe her. I kept my cheek pressed into her neck as she lifted me up off of the floor and out of the shower, stripping off my layers and wrapping me in a towel, I refused to face her though, refused to look into those eyes.

“Can I carry you?” Her voice was so hesitant and before I could gather my thoughts, the ones that told me to push Leah away I found myself nodding.

She engulfed me in her arms so quickly it was as if she knew I was on the cusp of changing my mind, I still hadn’t stopped crying, my sobs had just quietened down into numb, soundless tears that somehow burned my cheeks as they dripped down my skin. My chest pressed against her own as she lifted me up and walked us into our room, our bedroom. I squeezed my eyes, trying my hardest to ignore how perfect it felt in that moment to be pressed against her, to be in her arms, how perfect it felt to be held by her.

She gently placed me down on our bed and I tried my hardest not to whimper at the loss of contact, she dashed off into our wardrobe, stumbling around in there for a few seconds before returning with a fresh matching bra and boxer set on herself and a sports bra and pair of boxer shorts for me. I didn’t even flinch as she pulled the items of clothing over my body, just went limp in her arms. Once she was done dressing me she climbed onto the bed beside me.

“Can I hold you?”

I nodded at her with tears in my eyes and she’d immediately wrapped both of her arms around me. She rested herself against the head of the bed and brought me into her lap so my back was pressed against her chest, it was the skin to skin contact that made me start to sob unapologetically and furiously. Leah was quick to tighten her grip on me and start to rock me back and forth in her arms.

“I’m so sorry this is happening to you sweetheart, I’ll do anything I can to fix it.”

Leah was a problem solver, furiously dedicated to helping out anyone that she could. In this instance though I couldn’t find anything that she could actually help with, what was there for her to do? No one could do anything, any effort, any attempt to try and make a change, for Jenni, for us all, was over.

“How am I supposed to go there and act all happy and grateful when all I want to do is tell them all fuck you, fuck you for doing this to me, fuck you for condoning the abuse for years, fuck you for covering it all up.”

My words came out in hiccups between the sobs, Leah waited for a few minutes before answering me, it got to the point where I was worried she wasn’t going to answer me at all.

“If you don’t want to stay and play you won’t have to, it’s against your rights and the FIFA code says so, fuck there bullshit law that says you have to go. We’ll talk with our lawyers, talk with Ale and Mapi and we’ll find a solution. If they make you play then you can sit on the field, you can fake an injury, get yourself red carded. We’ll find a solution, we’ll work it out.”

Everything Leah said made sense but it also didn’t, how was I supposed to go there, how was I supposed to walk in a building and try and reason with people I was terrified of, people that I now needed anti anxiety medication for, people that had given me years of trauma and PTSD.

It was then that we were both shaken by a furious banging from our front door, my mind went to the worst place possible. What if it was reporters, or people from fifa, or people from the Spanish federation? What if they’d come to take me, what if they were already here to take my licence or take me to jail?”

Leah sensed my distress and slid herself out from behind me.

“I’ll go take a look, stay here, it’ll be fine.”

Even her voice was unsure, like she didn’t even know if it was actually okay. She darted out of our room, I heard her thudding down the stairs and then making it to our front door. I heard her open it, which indicated to me it had to be someone we knew because if it was someone she didn’t want to see she would have looked through the peephole and left them. I heard the hushed voices of two people, maybe? Then the furiously fast footsteps of an amount of people I couldn’t make out. Within a few second though all was revealed to me as Alexia, Mapi, Lucy and Keira bursted into my room, Leah chasing after them. One look at them all had me sobbing again. Alexia and Mapi were quick to jump onto the bed beside me, I noticed the the tear tracks that were painting Mapi’s face as well and the red rims around her eyes. Mapi was my best friend in the entire world, we’d played with each other since we were kids. Alexia was like my older sister, she’d taken me under my wing as soon as I’d joined Barca as a rookie and she’d treated me like her own ever since. The two women meant more to me than anybody else, bar Leah and I knew that they both knew how much this would be tearing me up.

“How can they do this to us? After everything they’ve done?”

“Lo se mi amor, lo siento mucho.” (I know my love, I’m so sorry)

Ale’s voice didn’t do much to comfort me, if anything her familiar words that were spoken in our mother tongue just made it all pour out of me more.

The two english women in the room were lead out by Leah, the three of them sensing that this was a moment that us Spaniards needed to have on our own.

“No puedo hacerlo Ale lo siento pero no puedo hacerlo.” (I can’t do it Ale, I’m so sorry but I can’t do it.)

“It’s okay Mi amor, I understand. We are going to sort it out for you and Mapi, we’ll figure it out, you don’t have to be there if you don’t want to, they can’t force you.”

“Can’t they?”

It was the first time Mapi had gotten a word into the conversation and Alexia’s eyes immediately met hers in a glare, she was trying to stop me from working myself up even further and Mapi’s words weren’t helping.

“No they can’t María, we’ll work it out, I’ll sort it out for my girls, I’ll keep you protected, te prometo que.” (I promise you)

“You can’t make that promise, you didn’t protect us last time.”

The tension between the two was thickening and it was making me feel even smaller.

“I can try my hardest, last time it was different and you know it, this time we have an audience, we have people that we can trust to help us, we don’t have to be scared anymore, I am going to protect you, lo juro.”

I pressed myself further into Ale’s arms, finding solace and comfort in the older woman's arms.

“I’m scared, Ale.”

I felt Ale’s head nod against my own from its position balancing on top of mine, her head burrowing into my semi wet hair that Leah had partly dried with a towel.

“I know pequeño, you have every right to be scared, but I’ll keep you safe and if you want to go home after we negotiate with them then you can, no one is going to make you play.”

I nodded into Ale’s body, searching for Mapi’s hand and when I found it tangling it in my own, finding warmth and steadiness in her hand.

I could feel my body relaxing into Ale’s, the emotions of the last hour starting to hit me and affect my energy level.

“Go to sleep, cariño, rest, you need it.”

I’d nodded sleepily into Alexia’s body and let myself relax fully against her, letting all of the stress, fear and anxieties leave my body as the feeling of sleep started to overcome my senses.

When I woke up it was no longer light outside. I shot up in bed, realising I was alone and immediately clutching at my chest as I felt the anxiety overcome my body, I’d been deserted, because of my stupid fears about being called up, I deserved it, I was so weak, so stupid, so fucking unworthy of love and attention. It all came crashing down on me, like a massive wave, all of the feelings crashing down on top of me in an overwhelming cascade. I was gasping for air, frantically clawing the sheets of the bed off of my body, suddenly feeling overwhelmed, overheated and sweaty. I’d left a cold sweat patch on our bed sheets but it didn’t really bother me, I was so hot and it was so hard to breathe and I just couldn’t think.

The next thing I knew Leah was walking into our room with a cup of tea that she’d almost immediately dropped when her eyes had met mine, forgetting the cup and liquid and jumping directly onto the bed, her mind immediately reeling.

“Y/n/n, you're having a panic attack, I need you to breathe for me, how we’ve practised, you’re going to be okay, take some deep breaths for me.”

I’d gulped and nodded at Leah, we had practised it quite a bit, it didn’t make it any easier when this happened but it did reassure me that I knew how to do it.

Her hand had almost immediately found its way to my hunched over back, rubbing circles into the muscles along my back as I struggled to take in any oxygen.

“You’ve got it my love, deep breaths, in and out, it’s going to be okay, I’m right here.”

Leah’s voice was so soft, so comforting, like it was made of cotton and teddy bear fur.

“I thought I was alone and I-I thought you’d left me.”

My voice was so unsteady, so unlike me.

“I’m never leaving you honey, not if I can help it, I’m here for you, always by your side.”

She solidified her statement by pressing a gentle kiss to the side of my temple, I relaxed my scrunched up face against her mouth, trying to enjoy the feeling of it as much as possible.

“Good girl, keep taking those deep breaths for me, you're doing so well mi amor.”

Leah knew very little Spanish, I’d tried my hardest to teach her some, especially when she’d stayed with me in Barca but it just never stuck, she didn’t practise enough for it to stick, not that I minded, my mum was english so I’d spoken both since I was a child, my English was just as good as my Spanish so it wasn’t hard for me to converse with my partner.

Leah’s voice kept rubbing against my back, helping to guide me back down to earth from the panic induced cloud that I’d sent myself to. When I did finally come back down I started to take in my surroundings, the damp sheet below me, Leah’s breath against my neck, our dog and cat sitting on the edge of our bed, cuddled up together asleep.

“Hey angel, you back with me?”

Her voice was so gentle, so patient. Leah’s hand found its way to my face, brushing the loose brunette strands from my face and pushing them behind my ear. I felt shameful, I couldn’t handle looking into those eyes, those eyes that held a world's worth of care in them, the eyes that I knew could break me down into tears on their own accord.

“M’ sorry.”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

Her reassurance was what I needed, I craved that reassurance, craved her approval.

“I just want this all to go away, I just want to be able to me be, just live how I want to.”

Leah pushed herself back against our pillows and pulled me with her, wrapping her arms around me and bringing me to her chest, her lips fell to my forehead out of habit, it was one of her favourite things to do, I loved the connection.

“You can be you, you are allowed to be upset about this, there is nothing wrong about being angry about what is happening to you.”

I let my head find a nook in Leah’s body and relax into it properly, finding so much peace in her.

“I just want this to all be over, better yet, never have happened.”

“Fair enough, you’ve dealt with enough bullshit to last you the rest of your life, you are allowed to be angry about that, anything you feel is valid, your life has been turned upside down by a bunch of old white men who don’t care about anybody besides themselves and it sucks, it sucks that most of the men in power across our world are the same and that we can’t really do anything to change that. I’m here for you though, so is Ale and Mapi and everyone else that cares about you. It sucks, but that's what we have and maybe it’s enough, maybe it’s all we really need.”

I nodded along with Leah’s words, she was so wise, so smart considering her age. It was one of the things I admired her so much for, how she knew so much but was also prepared to educate herself on something that she wasn’t sure about. She was always wanting to be better, to learn more, it was jarring for me when I’d met her, having come from a very traditional family and set of views.

“Go back to sleep my love, we’ll work this all out in the morning, I promise.”

“Pinky swear?”

She’d rolled her eyes at me but nodded regardlessly, knowing that if she didn’t my anxieties would creep up and I’d probably send myself into another fit.

“I pinky swear.”

[kelpeigh]

To this day my feathers get ruffled when people call Destiel "queerbait" because the thing about Despair. is. I think they (the cast, crew, producers, etc) gave us everything they possibly could have.

Remember this show started when Bush Jr was freakin POTUS and salmondean couldn't hold umbrellas because it was too gay. WB and the CW have different stakeholders than the BBC so they couldn't go around pulling Torchwoods wrt representation-- representation wasn't largely talked about yet, let alone profitable enough for big studios to give a shit about even giving nods. sitcoms like New Girl and HIMYM were still routinely making jokes at trans folks expense every other minute. Gay marriage was still legal on a state-by-state basis until Supernatural had just wrapped season 10.

I'm not going to keep going with context because I don't want to look like I'm making excuse because, yeah, plenty more progressive shows came out between 2005 and 2020 but SPN always seemed. like. grandfathered in for being a man's man's show. Supernatural is about TWO DUDES in a classic car fighting MONSTERS it's GRITTY it's DARK and we make meta jokes about the brutthers talking about their feelingz

So even before Despair, SPN never felt like queerbait to me-- not in the sinister sense, anyway-- because the jokes about Dean being Cas's boyfriend felt like the most writers could possibly do to nod to the fans. It's a little-- okay, it's very sad to think of how happy we were to collect breadcrumbs. But Supernatural was always unfortunately in a very tenuous position. Gender contamination was always this big looming threat to stakeholders, I'm sure-- the Fandom was always overwhelmingly female and queer but it was still a widely-known show with casual viewers the networks couldn't deign to upset. The fact that market research was ever done to test the viability of more progressive content is such a huge deal in itself, even if it stalled out.

And okay. Look. That last paragraph was basically going off vibes, I don't actually know the ins and outs of tv production. But. BUT. Point is, SPN got progressively friendlier to its fans. And by the end, in Dabb and Berens's hands, I think we really truly got the most canon deancas we possibly could have in this fucked up hellscape of a society.

I see it all over the confession scene. The way Dean's reaction is obviously cut, as confirmed by Jackles (#releasethetapes). The way it was penned to be the most uplifting thing possible despite Cas being doomed. The rogue translator not being rogue after all.

I really think Dabb and Berens gave a shit and saw that it made sense for the story they inherited and built upon, and gave us every scrap of deancas they could. Having watched the show from the start, I thought we'd get metaphors and subtext to the end. But no, we got "I love you".

So idk. Maybe it is queerbait to you-- that word hasn't actually had one coherent functional definition for years now. But it was earnest and it gave a shit and to joke about the confession scene being paltry in any way is mean and I pity your estranged relationship with joy.

[slutnali]

From my understanding the people on twitter were more upset with her response to biblegirl, who tweeted something along the lines of “the sooner we accept that most adults do cocaine the better” (not the exact wording, she deleted it now cause the response was overwhelmingly negative, but the sentiment was normalizing cocaine use bc it’s prevelant) and Denali responded “tea”. To me that’s a lot more 🤔what do u mean by that🤔 than anything she said on the podcast.

This is long so I'm adding a read more out of curtesy and also because we are talking about drugs [not very descriptive but still]

I remember seeing that earlier while I was out but don't remember it word for word, wish I did tho

But from what I remember, I thought there was some truth to it. Many people do it, it's not just rampant in the lgbt+ community but everywhere else. Does it make it okay? Absolutely not but from what I took from it is that there's just so much shaming for it and I think harm reduction should be discussed. That's not to say that you should glorify it and I don't think they are, however its such a delicate & complicated topic that people are quick to jump at each others throats defending their stance, etc.. With Nali replying 'teaaa' I think also it has to do with the fandom's reaction to it as well.. like, it always gets weird?

I remember when s13 had been announced and people did their digging and found out about her mugshot etc.. the fandoms reaction gave me an ick because people were very much 'omg how scandalous teeheee 🤭" gossiping and theorizing it... and then again when she'd made a joke about her mugshot on the GITMS segment and then people were actually thirsting over it on twt.. like it was weird imo.. and yeah, she was open about it and to some extent you could argue "she made it our business" but I think this'll probably be the last time she does share about it and I don't think she owes us any more stuff about it if she doesn't want to. That's just me though.

Could the tweet have been worded better? Yeah, but again, the tweet from Biblegirl was deleted and I can't really go in depth. But tbh I don't want to go further into depth or back and forth after this ask and another i have, because this blog is mainly for reading [and occasionally writing] drag race fic and thirsting over my faves.

There def is a discussion to be had when it comes to people who have used it and people entirely against it, and there's many points to be shared on both sides. I've seen some of it while I was scrolling twt a while ago bc I follow a bunch of dr girls [obvs] and local queens.

As for Denali, if you no longer want to support her that's fine and your right. If you need/want to separate yourself from that, do it and if you're a follower or mutual of mine that wants to unfollow me there's no hard feelings. If you do wanna keep following me you can black list 'denali foxx' and 'denali' so you wont see posts with her tag. I cant speak for everyone else who may not tag but I can for my blog because I always use them and tag accordingly.

Drug use and talk happens and it's not a cancelable offense, in my opinion at least. There are many many queens who openly talk about substance use but I rarely even see anyone bring it up: Willow and a bunch of s14 girls doing shrooms, Camden talking about how blackout she was while touring last year and not knowing how she got safe to her hotel room, Sasha C mimes sniffing coke or smoking on stage, all the open stoners, etc.. when it comes to this and other topics people are very pick and choose when it comes to their faves so idk..

but again, this is all my opinion and ramble and its okay if we have a difference.

[wolfisblank]

Okay I want to share thoughts on the new routes. This got long

Spoilers for all new routes in Slay the Princess - The Pristine Cut

First I just need to say The Princess and the Dragon was so fucking fantastic holy shit I literally can't stop thinking about it. Definitely my new favorite route, Razor shunted FIRMLY into second. It really reframes how I view the chapter 1 Princess and her psychology in general. I was so on-edge the whole time. The Long Quiet is SCARY (and awesome-looking I <3 monsters). And also I love that Princess. The banter you have with her while you share a mind is honestly adorable, and she's so forgiving if you are kind to her in turn. I've always been fond of Spectre as a character because, despite being dealt an awful hand and killed so readily, she has the potential to be so kind. If you treat her with kindness she treats you kindly in turn, and it's sweet. Same goes for this Princess. Also I thought that sequence where Nightmare removes her mask and the flashes of the Princesses' perspectives in the Shifting Mound segment were aesthetic but this route implies that the princess just. doesn't see as much color as us? Or well, "color". What's up with that... And iirc this Route is the only route in which The Princess directly refers to herself as "Princess". Not like the ch1 "you can call me Princess" if you ask her name. Not a title of "The Princess" like how The Narrator refers to her. She thinks something to herself like "okay Princess, you can do this," like "Princess" is her name. Which I think is neat.

Happily Ever After fucked me UP- There was always this. undertone. in The Damsel. The way Smitten talked about her and the way The Narrator and Hero became annoyed and mildly unsettled by the fact that he's thinking this way about someone he doesn't really know. And the way he tried to talk to her directly a few times, despite knowing she couldn't hear, was interesting. I wanna clarify that it was not an overwhelmingly present undertone, and it was mostly just for jokes in paths outside Deconstructed Damsel. It didn't ruin the route or clash with the tone or anything. I already really liked The Damsel route and Princess pre-update, it was one of my favorites. It's kinda the point of the route that you don't really know her, which makes for a good parallel to Thorn, and that could be its own post. But the undertone was there, particularly in the Deconstructed Damsel path. They didn't need to expand on it to "fix" anything. But I'm SO GLAD THEY DID IT because it was SO GOOD. Moment of Clarity is still the route that fucked me up the most for DID-related reasons (could also be its own post tbh. Moment of Clarity analysis from the perspective of a system host. but anyway) but Happily Ever After is a solid second in which route unsettled me the most personally. Smitten's behavior in the lead-up and the third chapter(/"epilogue") itself was super unnerving and definitely made me view him differently. The way the Princess talks, tries to make peace, tries to do as she's told, scrambles to apologize and fix things at the slightest sign of upset from Smitten, is so... familiar as an abuse survivor. I haven't fully explored the route yet because tbh it's a bit heavy for me. She's just like me fr and so on. I got the good ending first - the one where you get her out of there and you dance and it's wonderful - and I loved it. But I'll probably save exploring that route for a particularly good mental health day because it's a little too good (not a criticism). It's so thematically interesting. It's really well-written, the way a toxic relationship is portrayed as a perpetual state of playing house, trying to find things to do in ways that don't upset your partner and scrambling to fix it when things inevitably do... and the subtle ways the Princess shows her fatigue and unhappiness without allowing herself to truly process and feel it, the emptiness and longing she feels upon the last torch going out... Also the small things, like when you leave with her, you can offer her agency. Ask her what SHE wants, OFFER your hand (and by extension the CHOICE on whether or not to take it). Good stuff. Also the way The Narrator shuts down and resigns Himself upon seeing what a world of stagnation would look like is really interesting (and funny tbh. love to hate that guy). You can talk to the version of Him in the mirror and tell Him about having seen a world where He saw stagnation and gave up and He's just like Well of course there's one version of me among the millions that is delusional. Like okay dude

I don't have quite as many thoughts on The Cage. Which is a shame because it's cool and interesting. The other new and updated routes were just SO GOOD that I haven't dedicated as much time to thinking about it, and I should. The way Paranoid and Skeptic negotiate with each other and The Narrator about trying to find a way to make cutting the chains make sense is interesting. Paranoid was like... incidentally very right about how this place works and how the world and Princess are warped around our perspective of her, but Skeptic calls him stupid for it. And he does sound kinda sound really off the mark unless you have context from the ending of the game. The way The Cage Princess thinks about the world is very interesting, and it makes sense. Because every chapter up until this point has followed a similar pattern, she's resigned herself into believing this is a perfect time loop, where everything always plays out the same (with only minor differences). Even when you try to prove her wrong, she warps it into something that fits her perspective. It's interesting how she's given up like this. It parallels Happily Ever After in a lot of ways too. You deny The Princess her freedom after it seemed so close, and the route has themes of feeling a lack of agency in a seemingly stagnant world and what that can do to someone. Also Cage's design is just cool.

Pristine Cut is really good 👍

[sofhtie]

just got Ridiculously upset thinking about how much yaz would Love to have a home that is busy and full and bursting with noise and music and life but it’s. she’ll never Really be able to have that headinhands

[strangelysamantha]

hey, i have a jj maybank request! fem!reader, possible angst!

so basically, y/n is a pogue and gets along with the other pogues (john b, pope, sarah, kiara & cleo) except for jj. y/n is always bright, a total sweetheart and bubbly and jj…hates it.

john b recently opens up a surf board shop on that stranded island that they’re on?? and he leaves y/n and jj alone to polish some boards hoping that they’d get along. jj complains about every little thing y/n does and starts calling her names. she gets really upset and storms out the shop to clear her head. she goes by the water for a swim but a dangerous tide picks her up and jj notices and saves her?? hopefully this makes sense!

the deep end ☆

jj maybank x fem!reader.

warnings: mentions of drowning, jj being an asshole, swearing.

words: 1,674.

summary: jj somehow finds everything you do annoying to the point he criticizes everything you do. john b thinks of a plan that will ensure his two friends will befriend each other. it was working at first, until it wasn’t.

request? yes!

a/n: y’all have such good ideas what the?! thank you for the request! if you enjoyed please like and comment. this is angst with fluff at the end. <3 BTW i am from missouri and have never surfed so i hope i got the polishing of the surfboards correct. :)

my masterlist

——————————————————————————

john b always had a plan, well usually he did. if two of his friends were fighting, he would always find a way to get them to get along. he knew that stranding kiara and sarah on a boat together in the middle of nowhere would force them to fix their friendship. so, with that knowledge, he knew that he could do the same thing with jj and you.

you were always nice to jj, he just seemed to get annoyed with you all the time. you didn’t know what you had done, if you had even done something. he just always felt the need to critique you. it became harder and harder everyday to ignore him.

since washing up on the abandoned island, john b was ecstatic for his brand new start. unsurprisingly to anyone, his first idea for creating a new civilization would be a surf shack. he started building it right away. you would occasionally help, but he was determined to do it on his own so he would always send you away.

“okay! john b what would you like my help with? i can do anything you need. just let me know.” you smile brightly at john b, while he stared at you. “listen, i love you. but, i don’t need your help at the moment. you should talk to everyone else.” you frown at his words, “fine. but you better get me the minute you need assistance.” he nodded. “will do.” and with that, you left joining the others.

jj was talking to cleo before silencing upon your arrival. “hey everyone!” you smile at the group in front of you. “hey! how’s john b?” kiara asked. “i think he is good, he’s actually pretty much done.” you play with the bracelet on your wrist. kiara nods, “that’s great.” pope smiles, “statistically speaking, we can’t ensure that his shack will be entirely safe as he built it all on his own.” you stare at pope. “true… we’ll let’s hope it doesn’t collapse on him.” pope smiled at you, glad you listened to his random fact.

jj groaned. “awe, how sweet pope!! you found a girl who wasn’t disgusted by your weird and useless knowledge.” you gasp in shock, “jj! shut up you are so rude.” jj laughs, “it’s just a joke, why do you always have to be so offended?” you glare at jj. “jj it’s not funny, you’re just a dick.” pope sighs. “it’s okay, don’t worry.” you frown in popes direction. you quietly pull away from the group. you walk to an area of sand, plopping yourself down. that’s when john b approached you.

“hey, remember when i told you i would come get you when i needed help?” john b smiled at you. “yes! do you need my help?” you tilt your head to the side, waiting. he nods. “i need you to wax up some of the boards i made.” you nod. “okay! sure.” he walked you to his shack, helping you set up. you began waxing the board, paying attention to the direction and the amount of wax you were applying. john b waits a minute watching you, before he decides to leave.

after a minute, you see jj approaching the shack with john b who held a smug smile on his lips. you shake your head, confused. “friends.” he looked between you and jj. jj held an unamused look on his face. “as my close friends, you will wax these boards for me. you can’t stop until you guys fix whatever feud is going on between the two of you.” john b stands his ground. jj scoffs, “we don’t have a feud.” you nod your head in agreement. “jj is right, his hatred is definitely one sided... it is not a feud.” you laugh softly seeing jj send a glare your way. “yeah okay. whatever guys. just fix it, and if you even try and leave, i’ll send cleo after both of you.” your eyebrows lift in shock. you mutter a quick okay, returning your attention to the board.

jj stares at you, watching you apply the wax. he couldn’t help but get upset. everything you did just made him annoyed. he grabbed the wax, working on the board right by yours. silence falls over the two of you. it’s not awkward or weird, it actually feels quite normal. until jj interrupted it so he could judge you.

“youre doing it wrong. i mean come on.” you stare at jj, “jj please just focus on your own board.” you shake your head, continuing to polish the surfboard. he glares at you. “whatever. just keep doing what you are doing, and then john b or i will fix it after you.” his attention turned back to his board. you rolled your eyes. “i will, thank you.” he breathes in, inhaling the waxy scent. “you are so annoying you know that?” you ignore jj’s words, focusing on the board. he continues, “i mean everything you do. everything you say, it pisses me off.” you nod slightly. “you done?”

“no, actually i’m not.” you bite your lip, fixating on the wax that is spreading along the smooth surface. jj stops waxing the surfboard. you look up to see he is already staring at you. “you know, you act like you are better than us, i mean why do you hang out with us anyway?” jj waits but continues when he realizes you won’t reply. “you are fake, you are so upbeat and bubbly that it’s annoying. you are a double sided two faced bitch who says anything to get in good graces.” you inhale, looking up at him.

“listen jj. we are stranded on this fucking island. TOGETHER. so either drop it and move on, or just shut the fuck up and stay away from me.” you place your hands on your hips, breathing slightly staggered from anger. “everyone speaks so highly of you saying how great you are; but the only jj i’ve met is a total douche. if you hate me so much then just stay the fuck away from me. if you continue you’ll just be wasting your breath and energy anyway.” jj holds back a laugh at your sudden outburst.

“you really think if i had the choice, i would want to be here? especially with you?” jj asked, you already knowing the answer. you stay silent. “exactly. no one can deal with you for that long anyway.” you roll your eyes.

“whatever jj. you win.” you toss the wax to the side, frowning. you don’t turn back to him, you just ignore him. you start to walk towards the beaches seashore. it was getting slightly hot, so you decided to take a dip into the water.

you were salvaging the few moments of freedom you had, before you got john b’s and cleo’s wrath from leaving the scene before mending the friendship with jj. it was practically impossible. what did jj have against you? you tip toed into the water, getting deeper and deeper. you floated at the top of the water; the coolness feeling great on top of your hot skin.

jj truly had the biggest nerve, your mind was overwhelmingly clogged. you felt seaweed scratch against the bottom of your foot, this caused you to jump, your adrenaline levels rising since you thought it was a fish. you try to remain afloat, but the high tide caused the waves to crash right over you repeatedly, being faster and higher than ever. you went above water trying to shout for help, but your mouth was filled, causing no sound to come out. you thrash against the water, kicking to stay afloat. your throat was burning, your legs tired from kicking, and your lungs filled with liquid.

a pair of hands wrap around your stomach, dragging you out the water. you were placed on the warm sand. “shit.” jj stared at you. your head felt light. jj’s hand began pumping your chest, curses falling from his mouth. “come on, just breathe. please.” you cough, the salt water exiting your lungs, and dropping onto your neck. you gasp for air, opening your eyes to be met with jj’s face. you breathe heavily for a minute.

“jj… thank you.” you sit up, pulling him into a tight hug. your hands wrap around his neck, one of them grabbing his hair. his arms held tightly around your waist. his chest was heaving heavily, shaking slightly. “i hate to be so cliché j, but you genuinely saved my life.” he frowns at you. “i almost lost you.”

jj’s confession confused you. “what?” you say softly, your hand combed through his hair. “look. the reason i’m so mean to you, is because i knew that if i was nice to you, my already intense feelings for you would only amplify.” you frown at him. “you’ve had a crush on me this whole time?” jj nodded. you went to talk, but your friends interrupted the moment.

john b rushed to your side, kiara and pope swiftly behind him. “what happened!! we were watching from over there.” john b pointed in a direction farther away. “one minute you were swimming… the next you we’re gone!?” you wipe your neck, trying to dry it off. “jj saved my life. i almost drowned.” you frown, the group in front of you nodded. “im so glad you are okay.” kiara bent down pulling you into a hug. “i’m glad you are safe now too.” pope joined in on the hug; as well as everyone else.

sarah, kiara, and cleo bend down, reaching for your hands. they help you up, dragging you to your feet. they walk you away from the crowd, bombarding you with questions. “so when you were drowning what did it feel like??” you turn around watching jj, you smile slightly before turning to them. “oh get ready for the amount of details i’m going to give you guys.”

possibly a part two…??? not sure yet :) <3 also!! i’m proofreading this tomorrow since i’m not entirely sure if it has errors or not! ily!!

[jschllatt]

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 | 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

Prompt: (Based off of the song I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys) Clay’s recent fame leads to a difficult decision to be made. Months later, he’s still regretful. You seem to be fine, so why can’t he move on, too? 

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, slight angst

Pairing: Dream x GN!Reader

Words: 2.5k

Masterlist

I spent a week on this and idk how I feel about it but I hope you enjoy <3

Clay had been consumed by an overwhelming emptiness, his entire body hollow as the lack of your presence took its toll. 

Two months. Two devastating months had passed since he’d made a grave mistake, and now he was facing the agonous repercussions. He was a mess—anyone could see it. Between his long, disheveled hair, the light scruff that covered his face, and his bloodshot eyes, it was clear that Clay’s mind had been somewhere else. And it had been. Every passing second was a constant reminder of his solitude, causing the emptiness in his heart to evolve into a deep, incessant void, no longer inhabited by the happiness you had ingrained in him just months before. Why? Clay was overcome with a sense of deep regret as a result of your absence, feeling more alone than he ever had before. What could have possibly happened to make him feel this way? To make you leave? The answer was rather simple—he was just too damn busy. 

Clay had dedicated a considerable amount of time to his career, filming or streaming during the little free time he had. As he grew more popular, the time that you had spent in each other’s presence dwindled significantly, each day becoming lonelier than the last. Your interactions with him had shortened drastically—what were once long, lingering kisses placed on your forehead had devolved into chaste pecks, void of any true care or meaning. While you understood entirely that Clay’s career was important, you found yourself slowly losing hope.

You realized it one day as he was filming. 

It was a day no different from the last. Clay was recording a Manhunt video in his office, his voice shrill as he begged his friends for mercy. He was always loud when he filmed, and though you had chastised him for it countless times, he never listened. A loud sigh escaped your lips, going unheard, and you shifted your position on the couch, uncomfortable. Everyday seemed to be the same—each as lonely and frustrating as the last. Clay’s ignorance only fueled your apathy towards your relationship more, and you couldn’t help but find yourself growing hopeless at the thought of Clay being unaware of your unhappiness. Your troubled thoughts continued until a week had passed—a long, grueling week in which you had hopelessly tried to burrow your apathetic thoughts. But you couldn’t. You were giving up. The realization of your unhappiness made a pit grow in your stomach. You knew that you cared about Clay, but you couldn’t keep living the way you were—tired, unacknowledged, pitiful. 

And so, you let him go.

Clay was editing by the time you gathered the courage to face him, your stomach nauseous as you approached his office door. A light knock signaled your presence, and Clay muttered a quiet ‘come in,’ his voice raspy after hours of unuse. Blowing out a breath, you entered the room, your expression sullen upon noticing Clay’s inattentiveness. His eyes were still glued to his monitor, deeply focused on editing rather than your presence. You waited for a few seconds, silently hoping he would pay you any mind, but he didn’t. A wave of disappointment washed over you, though you managed to keep your voice steady as you declared, “We should break up.” Clay tensed in his seat, suddenly fixated on your words rather than the hours worth of footage he was editing. His chair turned with a quiet squeak as he swiveled around to face you. “What?” You sensed the subtle indignation of his tone as he squinted confusedly at your abrupt words. “We should break up.” You were much quieter this time, unable to meet his eyes as your words died silently in the tense air. You wrung your hands together anxiously as you leaned back on your heels, feeling awkward under Clay’s intense gaze. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe you should’ve just stayed quiet and dealt with it. Maybe—

“Okay.” 

Immediately, your eyes flickered up to meet his, filled with a silent desperation as you searched his emerald irises for any indication of his intentions. Nothing. 

“Okay?”

Clay remained silent for a moment, his body stiff as he leaned back in his noisy chair. His expression was inscrutable as he stared at you blankly, trying to find the right words to say as he watched your face remain solemn at his confound brevity. His voice was level as he spoke, “I know I’ve been busy lately. We haven’t spent a lot of time together and that’s my fault. I could sit here and promise to change, but we both know I can’t—not right now.” Though you felt your heart shatter, you knew he was right. His job was too important, too time consuming.

A nod signaled your understanding and you turned to leave, feeling overwhelmingly dejected. 

“Hey.” You turned around to meet Clay’s eyes, noticing the hurt that was settled in them. “I hope you know I care about you.” You fought the urge to cry and shot him a watery smile, struggling to keep your tone unwavering as you agreed, “Me too.”

Two months had passed. 

Clay had been struggling. Everyone knew it—his friends, family, even his fans. It was clear that the once cheerful, happy man had become melancholy, suddenly depressed and unable to hide his unhappiness on camera. There had been numerous speculations of why this was, but only few knew the truth. Sapnap was among one of them and had been staying at Clay’s for the past month, creating content with his best friend while simultaneously making sure he was okay. Though two months had passed, Clay was still a mess. Perhaps it was because it hadn’t hit him that day. He had momentarily convinced himself that his career was more important than you, but deep down he knew that wasn’t true. He wanted so desperately to reach out to you, but assumed you had moved on—another incorrect belief of his. Clay cooped himself up in his home, never leaving unless it was urgent. He had sunken into a deep depression and the only remedy for his pain was you. You. He treated you so poorly. Everyday was a constant reminder of your absence and it was his fault. He could’ve made more time for you, or at least spent the free time he had with you. 

Remorseful thoughts ran through his head everyday, nearly driving himself crazy, and Sapnap knew he needed to get Clay out of the house. 

“There’s a party tonight, I think we should go.” Clay immediately denied the offer with a shake of his head, grumbling to himself. His best friend sighed indignantly, blowing out a breath of frustration before stating, “You don’t have a choice, you need to get out of the house.” Sapnap stood his ground, arms crossed as he stared at Clay sternly. A minute had passed and Clay, aware of his best friend’s stubbornness, gave in begrudgingly, “Fine, but only for an hour.” Sapnap grinned triumphantly, exiting the room with a smirk. He slammed the door behind him, heading back to his room while yelling, “And shave, for fuck sake.” Clay shook his head, cracking a small smile at his friend’s words.

The party was overwhelming to say the least. Bodies swarmed the crowded living room, reeking of alcohol and sweat. Music blared from a speaker, a shrill, nearly deafening melody that was sure to give Clay a headache by the end of the night. The room was buzzing with conversation, every word drowning out in the loud atmosphere. Almost immediately, Clay was passed a beer, and he lifted the bottle to his lips to take a swig. If Sapnap was going to make him stay here, he may as well take some edge off while doing so. A few minutes had passed and he finished the bottle, discarding it in a bin nearby. “I’m gonna go get another drink.” Clay muttered to Sapnap, who was talking loudly to a group of people he’d recognized. His best friend patted his back in response, chuckling as he gave him a playful shove towards the kitchen. Stumbling through the drunken crowd, Clay soon broke free as he neared his destination. He grabbed a beer, opening it skillfully off of the edge of a table, and turned around wordlessly. Taking a big sip, he hoped to free his mind from thoughts of you. Though he wasn’t one to drink, especially when upset, Clay knew that, aside from you, alcohol was the only other solution to temporarily mask his pain. He’d already drank half before he warned himself to slow down, knowing that if he got too drunk, he’d probably do something he regretted. Turning around so he could rejoin Sapnap, Clay nearly dropped his drink on the floor, feeling his heart drop. 

His eyes met yours. And then, he heard the music. 

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner

Breathin’ in your dust.

Clay felt his breath hitch in his throat, noticing the surprise in your eyes as you stared at him, astonished. As he stood there, staring at you shamelessly, he regretted it—everything. He regretted how he neglected you, ignored you, prioritized all of the wrong things when the only right thing in his life was right in front of him: you. Memories flashed before his eyes, quick and familiar, yet saddening all the same. The way you smiled at him from across the room when he was filming, the way you held him when he was stressed, the way you spoke to him, softly, while he was streaming to check up on him. Everything.

I wanna be your Ford Cortina

I will never rust

You looked away, suddenly nervous, though the eye contact was all-too-familiar. You felt your heart begin to race as you processed every detail of Clay’s face—from his anxious expression to the dark circles beneath his eyes. He looked like a mess. But so did you. You mirrored most of his tired, dejected qualities because you, too, were hurting. 

If you like your coffee hot

Let me be your coffee pot

Snapping you out of your daze, you felt a tug on your arm. “Hey, you alright?” Your friend asked worriedly. Nodding briskly, you muttered a quiet ‘yeah’ and smiled in a poor attempt to sound convincing. Seconds passed, and you could still feel the intensity of Clay’s burning gaze as your friend tugged you through the crowd, handing you a drink in the process. You dared to look up, instantly locking eyes with Clay, and swallowed thickly. You knew you couldn’t avoid him forever, not when he was looking at you like that—desperate, longing. 

You call the shots, babe

I just wanna be yours

Lifting up the red solo cup to your lips, you downed its contents quickly, eliciting a few laughs and impressed hollers from your friends. You were never the type to drink, but you felt that it was necessary, especially when you knew Clay was still staring at you intently. Downing another shot, you risked glancing up towards Clay, but he was gone. Suddenly anxious as a result of his absence, you surveyed the room. Nothing. “I’m gonna go get a drink.” You said before you could stop yourself, not giving your friends the chance to answer you before you ventured into the kitchen. You tried to dodge the swaying, drunken bodies as you made your way quickly into the room, frowning upon entry. Clay wasn’t there either. You sighed, frustrated, and grabbed a beer, struggling to open it. You nearly laughed at your incompetence, feeling sadly nostalgic despite the humor you found in your struggles—Clay had always opened your beers, then teased you for being incapable. You fought back an onslaught of tears at the memory and sighed deeply, leaning against the table with your head in your hands. 

Secrets I have held in my heart.

“Hey.” Your body jolted at the sound of his voice. Daring to turn around, you felt your chest constrict at the sight of him clutching your now-opened beer, a sad smile plastered on his tired features. 

Are harder to hide than I thought. 

“Hey.” You breathed. Clay passed the beer to your shaking hand, trying to ignore the way his fingers brushed against yours. Chewing on the inside of his cheek nervously as he tried to find the right words to say, Clay admitted, “I’m sorry.” A few quiet moments passed, though they felt like an eternity, and you replied simply,  “Don’t be.” You tried to hide the tremor that shook your arm as you took another swig of your beer, noticing how Clay’s face fell in sudden disappointment. What? Did you say the wrong thing? You didn’t want Clay to feel guilty, to blame himself for your failed relationship though it was mostly his fault. Why? Because you cared about him. You could immediately sense the despair that washed over him. And, though you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol coursing through your veins or the pure adrenaline from the moment, you hugged him. 

Maybe I just wanna be yours

I wanna be yours

I wanna be yours

Clay tensed at your touch, wondering if the beer had gotten to him or if this really was happening. It was. He soon wrapped his arms around your waist, grip purposeful as he tugged you into him. Your head rested against his chest, the steady thumping of his heartbeat in your ear far more of a melodic sound compared to any music you’d ever listened to.

Wanna be yours

Clay swayed the two of you softly, resting his chin atop your head. You clung to him tightly, shutting your eyes as he held you, gentle. “I missed you so much.” You admitted before your mind could even process it. Clay chuckled, lowering his head so his lips were close to your ear, “I missed you more, baby.” You tried to fight the grin that plastered itself on your face as you took in his words, squeezing his torso with such force you were sure he’d explode. Clay went to speak again, caressing your sides so gently you could barely feel it, before being interrupted. 

“Holy shit, there you are, dumbass!” 

Sapnap. 

Clay pulled away from you to glare at his best friend, trying to ignore the shit eating grin on Sapnap’s face as he glanced at you. “My bad, I didn’t mean to interrupt...whatever the hell I just interrupted. I just wanted to make sure you were alright, but you clearly are.” Before either of you could respond, he left, shooting his friend a thumbs up before disappearing into the crowd. You couldn’t help but laugh at the interaction, noticing the slight rosiness Clay’s cheeks had suddenly sported, embarrassed. “Sorry about that, he…” Clay struggled to find the perfect word to describe his best friend, but trailed off. “Yeah.” You agreed, seemingly understanding what he meant despite his silence. Clay laughed, then. The sound was music to your ears, and when his smile faded, the two of you were serious again. Clay’s hand found refuge in yours as he began to speak, his face solemn as he confessed, “I lied. I can change. I will right now if you want me to—I’d do anything for you.” 

Wanna be yours

You smiled lovingly at the man, interlocking the fingers of his hand that wasn’t already occupied in yours, and pulled him closer to you, wanting him near. 

Wanna be yours

“Deal.”

[fruitcoops]

I'm having a shit day all around and the only way it could be better is to have my sister around lol but she's away for college. I was wondering if you could do a fic with Jules or Reg? Where they're having an awful day and seek sibling hugs? :) Thank you

Anon, this is such a mood right now and I hope you can see your sister soon <3 SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Regulus didn’t miss the Snakes. Far from it, actually—he hated them and everything they stood for, and he would never forgive them for what they did to his brother. For all he cared, they could burn alongside his parents.

But sometimes…sometimes he regretted dropping out of hockey.

The spotlight was constantly on Sirius, now; there were no more comparisons between the brothers, but that also meant the papers never looked deeper than the surface of Regulus’ personality. Sirius was overwhelmingly, ridiculously proud of him for going to college—almost too proud, in Regulus’ opinion—and lit up like a candle whenever it was brought up at an interview.

He’s my little brother, Sirius had said during the most recent conference. I’m happy he’s following his heart for once.

So reporters fawned over him whenever they saw him at the grocery store and peppered him with endless questions, only to sprinkle in the bare minimum around all the amazing, wonderful things Sirius had done in the past 24 hours since they last interrogated him. They spoke to Regulus like he was some dumb high schooler who had dropped out because he couldn’t handle the pressure—simpering, sympathetic, and a little pitying.

They didn’t care about him. They cared that he was the great Sirius Black’s kid brother, and there was nothing he could do about it now that he was off the ice.

Regulus scrolled past a few more articles with his face plastered on the front, gripping the cool marble countertop tightly. Let it roll off, he reminded himself. They don’t know you or Sirius.

NHL Dropout to Attend NYU

Younger Black ‘Following His Heart’

Sirius Black: Proudest Brother in the NHL

See Sirius Black’s New Interview Here!

“I’m heading out!” Remus called from the front door, snapping Regulus’ train of thought.

“Alright, drive safe.”

The door closed behind him with a clickand Regulus sighed, sliding down to sit on the floor. He rested his head back against the cabinets, simultaneously too upset to be productive and too energized to mope around. He lingered there for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling, before sighing again and heading into the basement. Only one thing would make him feel better.

“Bonjour,” Sirius said absentmindedly as he skated along the outside of the rink.

“Got room for one more?”

Sirius looked up and grinned. “Course.”

Lacing his skates was muscle memory, and pushing out onto the ice was more of a relief than he cared to admit. Part of him had been afraid it would be soured by his decision to leave the NHL—maybe that was a silly thought, but hockey still held a large piece of his heart.

Maybe I’ll go back someday, he thought as he flicked a puck to Sirius. Not now, but…later.

The puck bounced off the front of his skates. “You’re thinking too loud.”

“You don’t think loud enough,” he countered.

Sirius barked a laugh and checked him lightly. “Head in the game, petit enfant. Head in the game.”

“I hate it when you call me that.”

“Why do you think I do it?”

“Because you’re an asshole.” He slapped the puck toward the goal, but it bounced off the crossbar. Irritation flared hot and white in his chest. “Pass it back, yeah?”

“There’s one right next to your—”

“Just pass it back!” Regulus snapped. His throat felt tight; the back of his neck itched, and there was unwelcome pressure building behind his eyes.

Sirius’ teasing smile dimmed. “Reg?”

He sniffled. “Just pass the fucking puck, okay?”

The soft shush of skates was familiar and more soothing than Regulus cared to admit. Nobody skated as quietly as Sirius—there was a reason they called him ‘Padfoot’ after all. He stared at the ground, willing the tears of hurt and frustration to vanish into thin air. Arms wound around him.

“Stop it,” he demanded, though his voice broke. “Sirius, let go.”

Sirius pulled him closer and rested his chin on top of his head. Regulus felt something crack a little inside, and his shoulders began to shake with silent sobs. Sirius rubbed his back like he was eight years old again, falling apart in the backyard because his feet hurt, and it was cold, and that stupid play just wasn’t clicking.

“Nobody likes me,” he blubbered. In any other scenario, he would’ve felt like the biggest wuss in North America, but Sirius was safe. Sirius was home.

“People like you.”

“Only because they like you better.” He took a few shallow gulps of air. “They—they pretend to care an’ I can’t even do anything about it anymore.”

“Is this about reporters?”

“It’s about everyone.”

Sirius sighed heavily. “Reg—”

“It’s fine, I can handle it—”

“Stop.” Silence fell over the rink. Sirius pulled back and held Regulus’ face between his hands, looking straight into his eyes. “You are outstanding, and one of the bravest people I know. If reporters don’t take the time to see that, they aren’t worth your energy.”

Regulus wiped his cheek dry. “I know.”

“And the Lions think you’re pretty damn cool, too. James is still waiting for that rematch after you kicked his ass. Leo’s your best friend. Remus has been talking about that book you recommended for a week straight, which I don’t know whether to thank you for—” That drew a weak laugh from him, and he saw Sirius’ face soften. “—and I’m your brother. I missed you, and I love you. So please don’t dwell on tabloids or some shit like that. They have no right to make you feel unloved.”

Regulus leaned forward into his chest with a few deep breaths. “How are you so good at pep talks?”

“Captain.”

“Ugh, right.”

“I was terrible at them in the beginning,” he said. Regulus snorted. “Ask Pots or Kasey sometime. It was mortifying. I’m pretty sure Coach almost took my badge away for that.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm. Now come on, your slapshot still sucks.”

“It does not!” Regulus protested, punching him in the arm as he pulled away. “My slapshot is perfect!”

“Tell that to the crossbar.” Sirius their skates together. “Come on, put some power into it!”

“I regret being related to you.”

“Says the one who got snot on my shirt five minutes ago.”

Regulus’ next (entirely perfect, thank you very much) slapshot went directly toward Sirius’ shin. He dodged, unfortunately, but the undignified yelp it earned him was well worth the trouble.

[willthelee]

A New Friend

It’s been a while since I’ve posted one of these but uh, yea I guess, this was just sitting so I finished it and posted it, sorry about any mistakes since it’s like 12 midnight

Lee!Purpled Ler!BeeDuo

Warnings: Feet Tickles, Swearing

Maybe it was just his cockiness, but Purpled wasn’t the best at making friends, it wasn’t like he didn’t have friends, or would turn down the opportunity to make one, it was just that he wasn’t the one to constantly try to make them but that was easily hidden under his ego.

Tubbo was quite the opposite.

The energetic boy was practically running circles around Ranboo with excess energy after being stuck inside for days because of a bad storm, so naturally, they went for a walk the first moment they had a chance.

Gray clouds hung overhead but Tubbo couldn’t really care less, skipping around while Ranboo sleepily slugged behind, having just been woken up by Tubbo when he saw that the rain had stopped momentarily.

Purpled had also taken this opportunity to take a step outside even though he wasn’t feeling nearly as energetic as Tubbo. He just needed a step outside. The fresh, earthy air was incredibly refreshing, having been breathing stuffy air for days inside his house.

When he saw Tubbo and Ranboo in the near distance, he sped up his walking just a little to catch up. He had seen and heard a lot about the duo but haven’t directly interacted for a while now, and Purpled wanted to see what was up since Tubbo was literally dragging Ranboo with him.

“C’monnn Booooo we haven’t walked together in foreverr” Tubbo urged, trying to get Ranboo to move faster

“It’s been like three days!”

“Hey, w- what’s up?” Purpled interrupted, nervous from his lack of recent human interaction and fear that he had cut into something important because of Tubbo’s pleading tone

Ranboo’s head immediately turned to face the unexpected follower, his look of surprise further adding to Purpled’s nervousness “O- Oh nothing! Need something?”

“N- No, not really-“ Purpled stuttered, slowing back down, nervous he had bothered them. Ranboo’s tone wasn’t meant to be that cold, but Purpled didn’t know that. The freshness of the air started to fade as Purpled looked down, hands in his purple hoodie pockets as he lingered forward slowly

“Oh hi Purpled!” Tubbo slowed down next to Purpled, his enthusiasm embedded into his voice “You alright?”

Purpled’s head immediately shot up, positively surprised by Tubbo’s excitement but not quite confident yet “Hey Tubbo, I’m alright.”

“You sure?” Tubbo put on his best comforting tone, making sure Purpled was okay.

“I’m fine, Tubbo.” Purpled’s natural cockiness had faded completely, not even sure what was the cause of why he was that upset

“You suuureee?” Tubbo gave Purpled a small poke on the side, trying to get his attention

Purpled jumped a little, not expecting the sudden touch in the moment, the surprised look on his face sent a tidal wave of worry through Tubbo, afraid that he had gone too far, but to his surprise, Purpled giggled “Hehey-!” His voice now significantly more warm and friendly

Purpled’s giggle caught Ranboo’s attention, he was about a good 10 feet in front of them so he slowed down to match the pace of the others “What’s going on here~?”

“None of your shihit!” Purpled had recovered his cockiness in an instant

Tubbo gave Ranboo a look, which Ranboo returned

Purpled’s fate was set

“That’s kinda rude, right Tubbo~?”

“Yea, it reaallyyy was.”

“Okay. And what are you gonna do ‘bout it?”

That was the last straw.

It was all a quick blur as Purpled was tackled to the floor by the duo, Ranboo now straddling him as Tubbo sat next to him “I think you know what we’re going to do about it buddy.” Ranboo replied

“What?” Purpled had a pretty good idea of what to expect, but didn’t want to give any ideas as anticipation fluttered in his stomach

A hand being placed on his tummy made him twitch as the situation finally set in on him. There was no way out of it now.

The air was still for a second, a light breeze around them being the only movement while Tubbo and Ranboo smirked an evil smirk at what Purpled had did to himself.

A light squeak interrupted the silence since Ranboo suddenly decided to just lightly claw on Purpled’s tum, drawing adorable giggles

“Is thahat all yohohou gohot?”

Tubbo pulled Purpled’s arms over his head, predicting Ranboo’s thoughts

Immediately, Ranboo vibrated his fingers into Purpled’s underarms, giggling at his cackling and thrashing

“WAHAHAIT! I DIHIHIDN’T MEHEAN IT-!” Purpled did mean it, his provoking was obvious, even though he might not have noticed.

“So, is it still none of my shit?”

“YEHEHES!”

Ranboo immediately sped up, making a squeal and noticeable laughter increase to emit from the blonde boy

At this point, Tubbo was getting bored of just sitting around and watching, so he decided to chime in, he let go of Purpled’s arms, which Purpled immediately clamped shut, and walked around to his legs

Carefully, Tubbo sat on Purpled’s shins and pulled off his shoes

“WAHAHAIT NOHOHOHO!” Purpled tried to pull his feet away, but Tubbo had trapped them with his weight

“What am I waiting for boss man?” Tubbo played innocent, pretending he wasn’t about to do anything

When Purpled didn’t respond with anything except laughing from Ranboo’s attacks, Tubbo lightly but quickly scribbled into Purpled’s arches

The squeal that Purpled made was the loudest and most adorable thing either Ranboo or Tubbo had heard in a while, causing them to soften their attacks just slightly

The feelings on both spots were starting to be overwhelmingly ticklish, and he finally gave in. “OKAHAHAY FIHIHINE! I GIHIHIVE UHUHUP! PLEHEHEASE!”

Tubbo immediately stopped, leaving tingly ghost tickles on Purpled’s sensitive feet, but Ranboo wasn’t quite done yet

“Is it still none of my shit?”

“FIHIHINE IT’S YOHOURE SHIHIT! PLEHEHEASE!”

With that, Ranboo stopped and got off of Purpled, giggling at the phasing of the sentence.

Purpled quickly curled into a ball, giggling from the ghost tickles he could still feel

“You alright?” Ranboo carded through Purpled’s hair while Tubbo walked over and leaned on Ranboo.

“Yehea, I’m fihihine bihitch.”

“You want more?”

Before Purpled could respond, the rain had started sprinkling again, and from the looks of it, it was going to be pouring soon.

“It’s raining, we should go home soon” Tubbo suggested

Purpled slowly got up and put his shoes back on as he recovered. The entire group now standing up

“It was nice meeting you Purpled” Ranboo said in a friendly tone

“Yea, you too I guess”

With that, they all separated with a smile on their faces, still thinking about what just happened, and the new friendship they’d just created.

[verycharismaticdragon]

on the addition of shixiongdi relation in SHL

A lot has been said on SHL’s addition of shixiong/shidi relationship between the main couple, probably because of it being one of the most obvious and plot-influential changes the adaptation made. The opinions on it range from overwhelmingly positive to upset and disappointed; so as a preface, I want to say that this small analysis is not me trying to tell you how to feel, but rather just organizing my own thoughts and feelings on the subject. Maybe some of my musings will resonate with you, maybe not – just treat this as an opinion piece. Disagreeing with meta is just as valuable a mode of digesting it as agreeing with it, after all!

So, here’s how my experience with the addition went: despite finishing the novel way before I got anywhere close to the reveal in the show, when I initially learned about the addition (from spoilers), I wasn’t at all upset about it – I understood, or thought I understood, where it was coming from. However, after finishing the show, I found myself discontented with it.

To figure out what exactly changed my mind, I’m going to organize my thoughts the following way: start with the positives, then continue into things I'm neutral on, and then see what is left for the negative category.

(continuing under cut)

The Good

So the thing I appreciate about the addition of shixiongdi relation, and the reason I was initially completely okay with the change, is of course the way it created plausible deniability that helped the show pass c/nsorship. It allowed SHL to portray an extremely intimate and tactile relationship – while not actually adding anything that would be a detriment to romantic reading. @/hunxi-guilai already wrote about it better than I ever could (second half of the post is about SHL specifically), so I’m not going into further detail. Just going to say that in this sense, the idea is quite brilliant.

Intermission

Before I go into the next section, I want to address a certain take going around the fandom: that SHL’s addition of shixiongdi relationship makes Wen Kexing’s decision to follow Zishu in the beginning more logical than it is in the novel, since in the show it is based on him recognizing their school's qinggong. Thing is, every iteration of this take I’ve seen operates on a wrong premise: taking novel Wen Kexing on his word that he is following Zishu because of his ~beautiful shoulderblades~. I have a post that goes into more detail, but in short: he isn't. He realized that Zhou Zishu is an expert martial artist, because Zhou Zishu had listened in on him and Gu Xiang across a busy street, and became suspicious. He thus followed Zishu to figure out his identity and whether he is participating in the hunt for Lapis Armor – in other words, whether or not Zhou Zishu is a threat to his revenge plan.

So both Wen Kexings have completely reasonable motives for following Zhou Zishu, while the flirting is initially just a cover. The only thing shixiongdi relation does in the show is provide a c/nsorship-passing explanation for Wen Kexing’s insistence that Zhou Zishu has to be good-looking: he is already almost sure that ‘Zhou Xu’ is his long-lost sect brother ‘Zhou Zishu’, and so knows more or less what he should look like under the mask. Again, works to help the show with plausible deniability, which is great! But on the whole, it isn't more logical than the novel's version – just different.

The Neutral

Human mind resists change, so sometimes we think something is bad just because it diverges from what we're used to. With this section, I want to make sure I'm not condemning perfectly sensible decisions just because they contradict the novel's setup.

To properly explain my thoughts on the matter, I need to step back from shixiongdi plotline for a moment and outline the bigger picture.

Aside from specific plot points and arcs, SHL made several changes to the source material on a structural level. I already wrote about the different ways in which the two approach the past, as well as the secondary plotline from the novel becoming the main plot of the show; there are also thematic differences (very shortly: the show does not engage with, and sometimes actively contradicts, several of the themes set up in the novel; it instead creates its own thematic framework, which also isn’t backwards compatible) and the shift in approach to genre (TYK subverts wuxia conventions while SHL pays homage to them). All of those changes work to create two very different stories; which one is “better” truly just comes down to personal preference.

I, for one, prefer the novel's choices; but there's a reason this section is titled 'neutral'. You see, after putting a finger on those structural changes, I realized they weren’t a deal-breaker for my enjoyment; while they were a bit confusing when watching, I have a rough guess on why they were made, and also probably wouldn’t be put out by them alone. In other words, I’m not into them, but I’m not against them either.

So, back to shixiongdi plotline: while it wouldn’t really fit with the novel’s structure, it very much does fit with the show’s.

Main characters having a past connection would make no sense in the novel, with its focus on freeing yourself from your past (by blood if you have to), but it becomes a centerpiece in the show, which focuses on rebuilding the past better. The show creates many connections that didn’t exist in the novel (to give some examples, in TYK, neither Wen Kexing’s parents nor Zhou Zishu’s shifu are part of Rong Xuan’s friend circle, Scorpion isn’t Zhao Jing’s adopted son, and Liu Qianqiao is not one of the Ghosts), which I think is due to both the new set of themes and the genre shift – and, again, WenZhou being sect brothers fits right in with that tangle of past debts and gratitudes and para-familial relations.

And, yes, this is very different from the novel – the line that describes the main family there is “sworn ties between the great houses were no more than lies and treachery, and yet, strangers who met by chance could survive by leaning on each other”, and Zhou Zishu, Wen Kexing, and Zhang Chengling are all indeed complete strangers to each other who were brought together by mere coincidence, – but the addition is internally consistent with the story the show was intent on telling.

In that way, shixiongdi thing is but a part of a bigger package; and since I’ve already determined the whole doesn’t bother me that much, logically the small part of it shouldn’t either.

But there’s still a certain element of shixiongdi dynamic in the show that I simply can’t make peace with – one that doesn't follow from those global changes. So we come to—

The Upsetting.

What sets this element apart from the fairly massive overhaul outlined in previous section is that, while both end up contradicting things set up by the novel, for this one I couldn’t find a single plausible reason – not one that’d hold up to a moment’s examination. Changes in adaptation are par the course – the shift between media types alone ensures the adaptation can’t be 1:1 – but if they aren’t made thoughtfully and with regard to source material, then is it still an adaptation? May as well change up all the names and make it an original… To be clear, I’m not saying SHL is that far away from its source material; this is just to explain why baseless changes grate in a way reasonable ones don’t.

The thing about setting up a shixiong-shidi relationship is that it inherently creates an order of seniority. One is an elder, the other is a junior, and that, in the setting-implied Confucian society, comes with specific – different – obligations on both sides. On this base level, it seems impossible to reconcile with the novel’s dynamic, which emphasizes WenZhou seeing each other as equals; but taking into account the genre in which the show operates... Fictional martial sibling pairs have been throwing wrenches into the supposed dynamic for ages, to the point that however you spin a shixiongdi story, someone’s probably done it before.

In other words, there’s no hard and fast rule saying that a shixiongdi pair has to consist of a responsible and caring senior and a troublemaker junior in need of guidance. So SHL’s decision to portray WenZhou as such isn’t necessitated by the addition of shixiongdi dynamic; sticking closer to the novel’s characterization and dynamic would make them only slightly less typical as a shixiongdi pair, but it wouldn’t even feel like a subversion or anything. And I don’t really see this portrayal as important to the show’s thematic framework either – not in any way that couldn’t be achieved just as fine without it. In fact, the only reason I can see for it is to facilitate the, well, whole mess that was the last four episodes.

But before I get into that, let me address something else: I do understand that it’s possible the senior-junior aspect of the dynamic seemed fairly minor to some, maybe most, viewers. The reason it feels glaringly obvious to me is because it goes against something directly established in the novel.

You see, while novel WenZhou are not sect-siblings, at a certain point there is a comparison made between Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu’s shidi Jiuxiao. Except it is immediately shot down by Zhou Zishu: how could they be compared? Jiuxiao “was just a kid”, while Wen Kexing “knows what he needs to do”.

Novel Zhou Zishu sees Wen Kexing as his equal – an adult who can make his own decisions. After the final battle, Zhou Zishu even asks Wen Kexing whether he wants to be saved before treating his injuries – no matter how it’d hurt Zhou Zishu himself, to lose someone who made him want to live again, he is just that willing to respect Wen Kexing’s choice.

This respect towards one’s decisions, however, does not extend to his shidi: in Qi Ye, Zhou Zishu sends Liang Jiuxiao out of the soon-to-be besieged capital against his will. To him, Jiuxiao is a child he’s responsible for, and as an elder, he makes the decision for him – on assumption that he knows better.

In that way, SHL Zishu’s treatment of Wen Kexing is actually closer to how novel Zishu treats Jiuxiao: for example, SHL!Zishu’s decision to drug Wen Kexing to sleep while he goes off to die fighting Prince Jin's forces – despite knowing Wen Kexing would rather go with him, even if that meant death – prioritizes someone’s safety over their wishes in the exact same way sending Jiuxiao out of the capital did. And with the way the two relationships are contrasted in the novel, it really drives home that the show's dynamic is that of a senior and a junior rather than two equals.

But you may ask: doesn’t this mean that the shift in Zishu’s characterization is simply due to him ‘acting like a shixiong’ towards Wen Kexing? Isn’t this exactly the kind of reason that would justify the change? And, look, if Zhou Zishu’s behavior was the only thing that changed, I’d... probably still be a little miffed that he treats his romantic partner in a way that his novel counterpart categorizes as treating someone like a kid, but – I’d consider the choice understandable, if not one I’d personally make.

Except that still leaves changes in Wen Kexing’s portrayal, the impulsivity and lack of understanding of consequences and sometimes outright dumbness that have nothing to do with his novel counterpart. The only purpose those seem to serve is creating a dynamic of Zhou Zishu constantly having to ‘manage’ Wen Kexing and take responsibility for his actions – and don’t get me started on ‘guiding him back to the righteous path’, as I’ve said before, moral discrepancy between the two was also invented by SHL for no good reason, – casting Wen Kexing in a role of troublemaker junior.

Again, it is not as if such dynamic is inherent and immutable for shixiongdi relationship, and it runs counter to the way the relationship is established in the novel. The only reason I can see for forcing a senior-junior dynamic in this way is to set up the characterization groundwork for all the misunderstandings in the final episodes.

Wen Kexing hiding things from Zishu in a way that badly backfires, then later missing all signs of his distress, and finally sacrificing himself as a way to take responsibility for his actions but without bearing uncomfortable consequences such as having to own up for his mistakes – all of this could only work off the previously established ‘reckless, careless problem child’ portrayal.

On the other side, Zhou Zishu not assuming even for a moment that Wen Kexing knows what he’s doing during the standoff in episode 32, then hiding his shortened lifespan, then drugging Wen Kexing and going off to die on his own also would not make sense if Zhou Zishu considered Wen Kexing his equal and trusted him to make his own choices.

So, pushing the senior-junior angle helps to make the finale's characterization consistent with the rest of the show. But should it be counted as a good reason? Even among show-only fans, many were discontented with the last few episodes, to say nothing of us novel fans.

There are rumors going around that the whole mess in the finale was to create a c/nsorship-mandated bad ending; I don't know how true those might be. Wasn't there a less convoluted way to bad end the show though, one that didn't require turning the novel’s dynamic into something it explicitly wasn’t?

I mean, the simplest TYK-based BE I can think of would be to just cut to the credits before Zhou Zishu wakes up from his post-nail removal three-month coma. That’s it! If you wanna twist the knife, have Wen Kexing sit by the bed, desperately calling him and receiving no response; show that day after day is passing; you can even work in Wen Kexing’s hair turning white, implying he has greyed from worry and grief... Roll the credits without resolving it, and you get a perfectly gut-punching sad BE. Which also seamlessly transitions into the novel’s actual HE, and you can trust the novel-readers to let everyone else know that. And this is just me throwing out the first idea that came up; surely people who work within the system and know it better could find even more ways to pass the requirement without sacrificing characterization?

Considering everything outlined above, I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that forcing a senior-junior angle for SHL’s shixiongdi dynamic was completely unnecessary. And with the way it overwrote the dynamic the novel set up, of equals who respect each other’s choices… yeah, it’s no wonder something bothered me. It wasn't the addition of the shixiongdi relation itself; it was just this one aspect of characterization that was taken too far.

––––––

- TYK/SHL comparisons masterpost -

[samwithnoplan]

A Big Step ~ A.R. x O.B.

aka an established!rolivia short drabble where Amanda wants to hold Olivia’s hand but is afraid to ask (which evolves into Amanda admitting to pieces of her past)

(+ slightly more angst than i intended)

tw: brief mention of child abuse and neglect in a single paragraph but not described

It was a big step, Amanda thought to herself, as she eyed the object of her current attention. She could feel her fingers itching and she just barely resisted the urge to reach out and allow her fingers to do what they wanted—to allow them to run across a callused hand before carefully interlocking fingers together to hold. Maybe it wasn’t the big deal Amanda was making it out to be because, then again, they were just hands, albeit hands larger than an average woman’s own and slender, the skin tan and the surface of the hands slightly callused—nothing like Amanda’s small, smooth (and rather pale) own.

Amanda bit her lip, lost in thought, hand twitching at her side as she wondered how Olivia’s hand would feel interlaced with her own.

Would her hand be cool and clammy?

Warm and rough?

Would holding Olivia’s hand ease the feeling of anxiety settling in her chest?

Would Olivia even want to hold hands with her, here in the openness of the park where anyone can see them?

She clenched her hand, fingers digging into the fabric of her jeans in a tight grip and knuckles turning white.

She was being ridiculous.

Her mother’s words to her about how physical affection was just the “show” part of relationships filled her head and she resisted the urge to scoff.

Maybe her mother had been right after all, or maybe—because she loathed to call her mother right—it was her mother that had been wrong.

Still, Amanda couldn’t bring herself to ask or even hint towards what she wanted, instead allowing her hand to hang stiffly by her side and curl into her jeans so she doesn’t unconsciously reach over and grab.

It wouldn’t do good for Amanda to just take.

It would be selfish, she reminds herself, eyes trailing away from tan hands to focus on two little figures on the playground screaming and running around.

Despite her mood, she couldn’t help but smile, lips turning up at the corners of her mouth and eyes crinkling as she watched Noah and Jesse play together. Sometimes, it took Amanda’s breath away at how well Olivia and Noah fit into hers and Jesse’s lives. Noah and Jesse were good together, Noah fitting into the role of older sibling with ease, and Olivia was a godsend when it came to wrangling Jesse into bed at night and keeping up with her constant energy and questions throughout the day. The four of them coexisted together with ease and Amanda thanked whoever was in charge for that fact.

Together, they were a family—a family that didn’t live together and that consisted of two women, each with their own child (+ a dog), and a history of trauma in both womens’ pasts that they were still working through, but a family no less.

They were a family and family came with its own set of risks, but a good outcome can’t exist if risk isn’t taken, even if one half of the relationship is afraid of the changes new things will bring.

Amanda steeled herself, stiffening and not looking away from the kids as she allowed her hand to journey out, blindly brushing against Olivia’s.

A beat of silence followed by a pause in Amanda’s movement, followed by a sharp inhale of breath as Amanda reached out once more, trying again—hand clumsily missing Olivia’s own by a brush of air.

Amanda felt her face go red and ducked her head, on the way of withdrawing her hand when a slight brushing against the back of it caused her to freeze.

She exhaled shakingly, eyes trailing down and widening as warm fingers gripped hers firmly and surely, but also so overwhelmingly gentle, the larger hand enveloping her own as her fingers were carefully interlaced by Olivia’s until their palms touched.

Amanda couldn’t help but look up, eyes meeting brown. She flushed at the gentle look in the older woman’s eyes and absent-mindedly she could feel the hand that was intertwined with Olivia’s own trembling.

At the feeling, Olivia’s eyebrows scrunched together and she squeezed Amanda’s hand, eyes never straying from Amanda’s but keeping the other half of her attention on the kids as she asked softly, “hey, are you okay?”

A pause as Amanda exhaled, teeth worrying her bottom lip as she struggled with what to say.

Olivia waited on her answer, patiently, hand never loosening its firm grip and other hand coming to join it, Amanda’s hand ending up being cradled between Olivia’s two.

Amanda felt her lower lip trembling as she opened her mouth only to falter, quickly snapping her jaw shut and turning to face the kids once more. So many things she could possibly say raced through her mind, but vulnerability made it where she knew she couldn’t say anything to Olivia’s face yet.

It was too much but she knew, logically, that she had to say something.

Her eyes trailed to Jesse and she steeled herself, mouth opening as she shakingly whispered, absent-mindely feeling Olivia slide closer to her in order to hear her better. “My mama used to tell me something, when I was younger,” her southern twang came out stronger than usual and she winced, recognizing it as a sign of how upset she was, “I asked her once why her and my daddy never showed affection in public…never held hands.”

Olivia hummed, voice coming out soft and sweet, “and what did she say?”

Amanda laughed, thinking back to how naive she was then, staring up at her mother and inquiring about their relationship, “she said that relationships weren’t about affection” and honestly, that one line explained Amanda’s entire childhood.

Olivia’s grip on her hand tightened and her voice came out, careful, “and your relationship with your parents?”

Amanda paused. There it was again—vulnerability. To talk about her past would leave Amanda raw, but it would also probably help Olivia understand a lot about why Amanda acted the way she did sometimes.

Amanda squeezed her hand back.

“Affection wasn’t allowed in the household,” she admitted, voice unconsciously small and shaky, lips attempting to quirk up in a forced grin, “unless the occasional slaps when daddy got drunk count.”

A sharp inhale sounded beside her followed by Olivia’s hands releasing hers. Amanda faltered, the word sorry about to tumble out of her lips before Olivia tugged her closer, pulling the blonde into her side. The blonde froze, eyes widening as Olivia’s arms snakes its way around her waist in a tight embrace.

They were still facing the kids but Amanda’s front was pressed against Olivia’s back and the older woman’s hand rubbed soothing circles into Amanda’s side in response to her stiffness, the brunette softly brushing a kiss against her temple. The blonde melted, head coming to lay against the older woman’s shoulder, sighing.

“Affection isn’t a bad thing, sweet girl,” Olivia explained in her ear, humming softly, “every human needs, and deserves, affection and I’m sorry you never got that but thank you so much for telling me.” Olivia paused, obviously debating her next words before deciding to say them anyways, “I don’t want you to be afraid to show me affection. Sure, we should withhold it at work but that’s for professional reasons until we’re ready to tell everyone.”

Amanda sighed, “I know, Liv. I just—it’s hard, you know? I can’t just unlearn my entire childhood in a few months.”

Amanda could feel Olivia’s head nodding as the brunette led them to lightly sway side from side, the brunette brushing a quick kiss to the back of Amanda’s shoulder. “Of course, sweetheart. No rush. We’re learning together, one step at a time.”

Amanda couldn’t help but agree, grinning genuinely this time as she watched Noah tag Jesse and take out running as Jesse began to chase him, “yeah, we are.” Her hand slid around one of Olivia’s arms, squeezing affectionately.

It would take a while, sure, but, no matter what, they would have each other and the kids, and Amanda wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world and, wrapped in Liv’s embrace, knew the older woman wouldn’t either.

They would be fine (and turns out, Amanda discovered the next time they were in public and she grabbed Olivia’s hand to hold, she did, in fact, take a big step in holding Olivia’s hand that day but ultimately, it was the right step to make).

[kanerallels]

Heyy, I saw your prompt list— could you maybe do Mackelena (with a side of Philinda and Huntingbird, if possible) and soulmates? Congrats of 111 followers!!

Thank you so much!!! I hope you enjoy this-- it's my first AOS fic so here goes nothing!

Pairing: Alphonso Mackenzie/Elena Rodriguez (minor Philinda and Huntingbird)

Word Count: 3,143

Tags/Warnings: rated G (for giant simp, which Mack is, good talk), character death mentioned, as is divorce

For most of his life, Mack had believed in soulmates. He’d grown up being taught that he’d meet someone, and when they first touched, their respective soulmate marks-- for him, a mark on his right hand, very dark brown streaked through with honey-gold-- would light up, and they would share a Moment. A brief snippet of time from the future that would show them their life together, if they chose to move forward with their relationship.

Some didn’t. Mack knew people who hadn’t stayed with their soulmate. But he’d seen, overwhelmingly, that when a person found their soulmate and stuck with them, they were far happier than if they didn’t.

He’d always thought that the only woman he’d ever be in a serious relationship with would be his soulmate. But then he’d met Nicole. The two of them had fallen hard and fast, and even now, after their divorce, Mack would never say he regretted it. Regretted how it ended, yes. But he had loved Nicole, even if she hadn’t been his soulmate.

Some days, Mack wasn’t sure if he’d ever find his soulmate. But he was fine with that for now, fine working at the mechanic shop that he co-owned. He had friends around him, and he visited his brother whenever he could. So he’d wait, and that was okay for now.

There were days, though, when he wondered. Was there really one woman waiting out there for him somewhere?

The sound of arguing broke Mack out of his musings, and he looked up from the car just as Fitz stalked into the back of the garage, looking irritated. Running a hand through his already messy hair, he said, “I’ve had about enough of this, it’s your turn. Have fun.”

“Have fun with what?” Mack asked, wiping his hands off on the rag he had resting next to his toolbox. “Something wrong, Turbo?”

Clearly trying to calm himself, Fitz took a deep breath and pointed over his shoulder. “There’s an irate customer out there, demanding that we hurry up and fix her car. I tried telling her that we’ve got a queue and we’re going to start on hers soon, but she didn’t exactly give me a chance. She wants to talk to the mechanic who’s working on her car.”

“Which name is that?” Mack asked.

“Rodriguez-- she’s on your list, I think.”

“Great.” Suppressing a grimace, Mack set aside the rag and headed towards the door that separated the garage where they worked and their main office. “I’ll be back in a minute or two.”

“If you’re lucky,” Fitz muttered.

Ignoring that, Mack stepped through the doorway. He spotted the customer almost immediately-- a Latina woman with dark brown hair braided back from her face, dressed in a black leather jacket and jeans. She caught sight of him and stomped up towards him. “Oh, you must be the turtle man who’s working on my car,” she said, her low voice furious.

One of Mack’s eyebrows shot up, despite himself. “Turtle man? We’ve only had the car for a couple weeks.”

“Yes, and I need it fixed,” the woman said emphatically. “Fast, so why don’t you get a move on? If I’d known you were going to take all year--”

Holding up his hands, Mack said, “I understand you’re upset, Ms. Rodriguez. But one of our best workers quit last week, and we’re having a hard time catching up. Obviously we’ll get your car done as soon as possible, but there are a few other cars before it. I should be done with them over the next few days, and I will personally make sure that your car is taken care of. Does that sound fair?”

Ms. Rodriguez eyed him for a moment, looking skeptical, but then let out a sigh. “Okay. I’m-- I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were short-staffed.”

“Nothing we can’t handle, it’s just a little backlog,” Mack assured her. “But I promise you, Ms. Rodriguez, your car will be one of the next ones.”

“Good to know,” she said with a nod. “And you can call me Elena. I mean, it’s the least I can do considering I kind of chewed out your friend back there. And you.”

Releasing a chuckle, Mack said, “Fitz can handle it. You can call me Mack, and we’ll call you as soon as your car is ready.”

Shaking her head, Elena said, “Oh, I don’t think so, Turtleman.”

“Sorry?” Mack asked, caught off guard.

“After how long it’s taken already? I’m coming back here to make sure you don’t start ignoring me again. I’ll be back in two days. See you then.”

With that, Elena breezed out of the office, leaving Mack with his mouth open as he stared after her. Huh, he thought, eventually turning to head back to his work. It looked like he’d be seeing a lot more of this Elena.

Sure enough, Elena was back two days later, just as Mack finished work on the last car and had started an assessment to see what was wrong with Elena’s. The short answer was, he soon learned, everything. This car was not going to be a short project.

When he told Elena that, she just shrugged. “Guess you’ll be seeing me a lot, Turtleman. Get used to it, and get to work.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mack said, hiding a grin as he headed off to find his toolbox.

~ ~ ~

“Soulmates definitely aren’t real,” Bobbi told him.

Mack raised a skeptical eyebrow at his friend. “What makes you say that?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink. They were at a bar, celebrating the promotion Bobbi had gotten at her job-- although Mack had a feeling there was another reason they were here. He’d known Bobbi long enough that he could figure it out when there was something she wanted to tell him.

“It doesn’t make any sense, scientifically,” Bobbi explained. “And it’s definitely not logical. I mean, touching someone and you see the future? It doesn’t really make any sense, Mack.”

“Maybe not,” Mack admitted, deciding not to expand on his own theories in that area. “But there’s a lot about love that doesn’t make sense, and it’s not like the whole world had one mass hallucination.”

“Maybe not,” Bobbi said, sounding skeptical. “But unless you can provide me with a scientific explanation for it, I’d say it’s a load of bull.”

“Uh-huh,” Mack said. “So the soulmate thing had nothing to do with the fact that you’re back with Hunter again?”

“Of course not--” Bobbi stopped. “Wait. You knew?”

“Didn’t take much to put it back together,” Mack said wryly. “You only take me out for drinks out of the blue like this when you need to tell me something important, and it’s usually about you and him. Also, he changed his Facebook photo to you and him again.”

“Wha-- I told him to be subtle!” Bobbi let out a groan, burying her face in her hands. “He is so typical.”

“So, you are back together,” Mack said, and he saw a small smile start across Bobbi’s face.

“Well… yeah. We are. We’re taking it slow, and he’s at least trying to not make soulmate comments-- but that’ll last.” Giving him a sideways glance, Bobbi asked, “How do you feel about this?”

“What, you and Hunter?” Mack took another drink to avoid answering right away. “I’m happy for you two, obviously. I just don’t want to see either of you hurt again. I’ve had to bail Hunter out of too many drunk tanks for that.”

“I know-- that’s part of why we’re taking it slow this time,” Bobbi said with a laugh. “For your sanity.”

“My sanity appreciates the effort, but I’m not the one in the relationship,” Mack pointed out. “It’s up to you two, not me. But seriously, I am happy for you guys.”

“Thanks, Mack,” Bobbi said. “By the way, I might have asked Hunter if he’d meet us for dinner nearby.”

“I had a feeling there was another part to the plan,” Mack said. “Well, if you two are paying, I’m in.”

They made their way to the restaurant where Hunter was waiting, and had just settled down at the table with him and were starting to flip through the menus to order when Mack’s phone buzzed.

“Ah-- hang on one minute,” he told them, pulling out his phone and checking it. He was pleasantly surprised to see it was a text from Elena, who had gotten his phone number the second time she’d come by the garage, in order to ‘make sure he was keeping on task’ in her words.

The text held an image of a turtle, and the words, at the zoo earlier. I think I found your long lost brother.

Mack found himself grinning as he texted back, For someone who wants their car fixed fast, you’re not very nice to the guy fixing it.

Elena’s response was quick. What, are you gonna not fix it now? I found your long lost brother! Mack chuckled as her next text came a few seconds later. Besides, you’re too much of a softie to refuse to finish the job for me.

Guess you know me too well, Mack responded.

Well enough to know you’re a softie.

Shaking his head, Mack put away his phone and looked up to see Bobbi and Hunter watching him, both wearing sly grins. “Who was that?” Hunter asked, innocence dripping from his tone.

“Just a friend,” Mack said. He knew better than to give Hunter too much information when he was in a mood like this. Grabbing his menu, he flipped it open and started browsing, ignoring the sly looks that Bobbi and Hunter exchanged. He was going to get interrogated about this, he knew already. But there would be nothing for them to find out. Elena was just a friend, after all.

~ ~ ~

“By the way, soulmates are definitely real,” Phil Coulson told him.

Mack gave him a surprised look as he took the paper bag from the older man. He’d stopped at Phil’s coffee shop on the way into work, as he did from time to time, and was picking up coffee and desserts for the shop. “Why do you bring that up?” he asked.

Shrugging, Phil said, “Something Bobbi and Hunter mentioned when they were in here yesterday.”

“Let me guess-- Hunter brought up him and Bobbi being soulmates again?” Mack said, grinning wryly.

“Surprisingly, no,” Phil said as he rang up his bill. “They were discussing you. Hunter is under the impression you’ve met your soulmate for some reason, and Bobbi was telling them that they don’t exist.”

“Huh. Sounds about right,” Mack said, trying to hide his surprise. Although it shouldn’t shock him that Hunter immediately made the leap from “texting someone he likes” to “he has a soulmate and hasn’t told us”. Bobbi would probably handle things a little more cautiously, thankfully. “Looks like I’d better tell him he’s wrong.”

“Really? No one yet?” Phil asked.

Mack shrugged as he handed over cash for the order. “I have no idea who she is or where she is. I have been married before, but I guess that was part of why we didn’t last. Part of it, anyway.”

Nodding, Phil said, “I know the feeling. I was in love quite a few times before May and I finally met.”

“Really?” Mack said in surprise.

“Sure. Just because there’s one specific person out there for you doesn’t mean you won’t be attracted to other people. It’s normal.” Putting the cash in the register, Phil said, “But there’s something different about the woman who’s the one for you. I could tell right away that she was special. Just took a while for us to realize just what was different.”

“What he’s not telling you,” came the voice of Melinda May as she came in through the front door, a duffel bag over her shoulder, “is that it took us two years to finally figure out that we were soulmates, and it was only because he’d just been hit by a car and I had to give him CPR.” She held up one hand, stained a sunny yellow.

“We all find love in different ways,” Phil said, giving May a soft, loving grin. “How was class?”

“We’ve got some new idiots to beat up on,” May replied, moving behind the counter to drop a kiss onto her husband’s cheek. “And Daisy kicked a practice dummy through a wall, so she’s getting even better.”

“My wife and daughter are terrifying,” Phil said, grinning even wider. “Here’s your change, Mack.”

“Oh-- thanks.” Pocketing it, Mack gave May and Phil a nod before heading out the door and down the street.

It only took him a few minutes to walk the short distance back to the garage, and when he got there, he found a familiar, slight figure waiting for him next to her car, with a sly grin on her face.

“Late again, Turtleman,” Elena teased him as Mack set the paper bag down on the nearest clean surface.

“I’m pretty sure you’re always here early, Yo-Yo,” he told her.

“Yo-Yo?” Elena lifted a curious eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, cause you keep coming back here.”

“You’d almost think you minded me showing up,” she teased as Mack pulled open the paper bag and pulled out two disposable cups of coffee.

Handing her one, he said, “I don’t mind.”

The smile Elena shot at him was brighter than the sunshine coming through the window in the corner, and it warmed Mack as he got to work.

~ ~ ~

“Hey, Mack?”

Mack looked up from his work on Elena’s car to where Daisy was sitting in the back of her dad’s 1962 Chevy Corvette, which he affectionately referred to as “Lola.” However, Lola needed a little work done, so Phil had relinquished the car into Daisy’s hands, and she’d brought it to Mack for him to look at.

“What’s up, Tremors?” he asked.

Daisy didn’t respond right away, fiddling with the edge of her jacket as she bit her lip. “Do you believe in soulmates?” she blurted out.

One of Mack’s eyebrows shot up, and he almost asked what prompted the question-- but stopped abruptly as he remembered what day it was. A year to the day since Daisy’s boyfriend, Lincoln, had died when a robber had broken into his house and shot him when he’d tried to protect Daisy. The man had been arrested, but Mack knew that only soothed part of the pain for his friend.

“I do,” he said cautiously-- he’d never learned whether Lincoln was Daisy’s soulmate or not. Regardless, he decided to speak the truth. “I believe in soulmates. But I also believe you can be truly, deeply in love with a person who’s not your soulmate. It doesn’t make them any less important to you and your life.”

Daisy jerked a quick nod, staring determinedly up at the ceiling. “He wasn’t mine,” she said suddenly. “Lincoln. May and Dad already know, but I just…” She trailed off, blinking hard.

Mack nodded slowly. “Maybe he wasn’t. But I knew Lincoln. He was happy with you, and he loved you. In the end, that might matter more than being someone’s soulmate.”

Taking a deep breath, Daisy nodded. “Thanks, Mack.”

“Any time, Tremors.”

They dropped into silence after that, until Mack heard someone knock on the office door. “Hey, Mack!”

Mack felt a smile crossing his face as he moved from behind the car to see Elena strolling towards him, hands in her pockets. “Hey, Yo-Yo,” he said, and Elena returned the smile.

“You know, the nickname is growing on me, Turtleman.” Turning her gaze to the car behind him, she said, “So? Do you have good news for me?”

“I do,” Mack said, patting the side of her car. “After almost a month of work, I finally finished it. Your car is finally fixed.”

A grin flashed across Elena’s face. “About time-- but thank you. I owe you. Literally and figuratively. I probably owe you for all that coffee you bought me.”

Waving a hand, Mack said, “Don’t worry about it. I was happy to do it.” He paused, the reality of it finally hitting him. If his work was finished… he wouldn’t be seeing Elena again.

No sense in moping about it, he told himself sternly. Grabbing the keys from the table next to him, he dropped them in Elena’s outstretched hand. “All yours,” he told her.

Elena nodded, stuffing the keys in her pocket. “Thanks, Mack.” She paused for a second, then extended a hand to shake.

Mack blinked in surprise-- he hadn’t expected such a formal goodbye. But he went to shake her hand, and it was only as his fingers were curling around hers that he noticed the dark blue soulmark on her palm.

A flash of light radiated from their hands, and Mack felt himself transported away from the garage:

He was sitting on the couch in his apartment, leaning back and relaxing. He could hear voices in the kitchen-- a man’s baritone, and Daisy laughing-- and music was emanating from a radio a little ways away.

A soft noise from next to him caught his attention, and he glanced over to see Elena, curled up next to him, her head resting on his chest as she hummed along to the song. Mack wrapped an arm around her and dropped a kiss onto her forehead, and she let out a soft noise. “Te amo,” she whispered, and Mack felt a smile pull at the corner of his mouth.

“Love you back,” he said as a wave of contentment swept over him.

Mack’s eyes snapped open and caught hold of Elena’s. To his shock, a slow smile was spreading across her face. “I knew it,” she said.

“Oh, you knew it?” Mack said, trying to steady his voice. “How exactly did you know it?”

“You’ve got your mark on your hand, too,” she said with a shrug. “Other than that… put it together, Turtleman. I wasn’t just hanging around here waiting for my car. Well, other than the first time.”

Mack felt a smile start to grow on his own face, and then another voice broke through his thoughts.

“Holy. Crap.”

Both of them looked at where Daisy was still lounging in her dad’s car, her eyes wide and a huge grin on her face. “This is awesome,” she said.

Mack exchanged a look with Elena. “I’ll call you?” he offered, and Elena snorted.

“Knowing you? I’ll call you first, Turtleman.” Shooting him a wink, she turned and strolled out of the garage, a spring in her step. For a long minute, Mack watched her, feeling himself grinning like an idiot. Then he turned back to his work, making a mental note to learn Spanish.

[yanderefer]

C-can you p-please do yandere onceler x reader oneshot but he is evil but still okay?? uwu

since you’re the first to ask whatever you say goes i guess. i’ve only ever seen the lorax movie and am not in that fandom so uh, hope his personality is alright. not a specific ask so i just did a scenario i thought of. i did my best. enjoy. there’s changing perspectives marked by the heart dividers. also i forgot he wears a hat so he is hatless.

Scenario: An Act of Kindness

Word Count: 3.5k

Despite being the town outcast, you were able to observe the daily events of the town square without being harassed. That was mostly because of the people who usually ended up in the square. Quite often would outside people come and try to pitch some crazy new idea; starry-eyed yet full of underlying greed. But, this guy was different.

He’d been coming around pretty often now; the thneed guy. In the beginning, you had just rolled your eyes seeing him setting up in the gazebo. You’d hear him sing about his ridiculous invention, only to be harshly booed by a larger and larger crowd. Now there was almost anticipation from the heckling people, waiting to chuck more tomatoes at the poor, strangely stubborn guy.

Seriously, why hadn’t he given up? He was chased away and made fun of every day and would leave to go to who knows where. Yet he always came back, continuing to sing that stupid song about thneeds. 

So that leads to now. You doing something out of character.

The sun was setting as people left the square, bored after a day without tomatoes to throw. This was the first time you had seen him so upset. Although very obviously naïve, the black-haired man was overwhelmingly passionate about his…craft, so you felt sympathy. Looks like his guitar got smashed, which you supposed is why he looked so downtrodden.

You didn’t like seeing the stubbornly positive guy look so hopeless.

“Hey.” With your hands in your pockets you strolled toward the bench he was slouching on. The broken guitar was next to him. “Could I sit next to you?”

He didn’t respond. You frowned. It looks like he couldn’t even hear you. With a loud sigh, you kicked at the bench. “Dude. I’m talking to you. Your guitar is in my spot.” Finally, he looked up, eyes shooting open and staring for a moment too long before stuttering out an apology. You sighed and sat down once he moved the broken instrument. It was amusing how he was fidgeting, obviously nervous, and maybe not prepared for anyone to actually talk to him. “What’s your name?”

“Huh?” He rubbed his arm, still staring at you.

“I’m not just going to call you the thneed guy. What’s your name.”

“Oh! It’s Onceler.” He reached out his gloved hand, and you raised your brow. You gave your name in return and shook his hand, ignoring the dirty glove. After the handshake, he continued to fidget. Onceler would look around then look back at you, almost disbelieving. Were you intimidating or was he just not used to people?

“So, Onceler,” You resisted a chuckle at his name, “What’s got you down?” You rested your elbow on your leg and rest your head on your palm, watching him.

“Oh. Uh. Well, you see…” Onceler fidgeted his fingers, eyes looking anywhere but you. He seemed to still be confused as to why you were talking to him, cheeks flushing red. He kept mumbling out random filler words before letting out a large sigh, deflating. “A little girl broke my guitar.” You nodded, pursing your lips. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. “And, well, you know, this guitar kind of…meant a lot to me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Now it’s broken and, well, I’ve got nothing to show for it.” Onceler held up the pink piece of clothing that was beside him, frown deepening, “I think that maybe now is the time I should give up. Throw in the towel.”

“What?” You were alarmed. You honestly felt really sad for Onceler. He was just a naïve guy chasing his passions, courageous enough to put himself out there. You couldn’t in good conscience just watch such a positive person become hopeless. “Why?”

“What do you mean why?” Onceler laughed, gaze sad, “I’m a failure. Everyone hates my thneeds. Everyone hates me. I shouldn’t have moved out here in the first place.” He covered his face with his hands, mumbling under his breath, “My parents were right.”

“Knock it off,” You smacked Onceler upside the head, and he let out a squeak of alarm. He grabbed the back of his head and gave you the most confused look you’d ever seen. “Don’t be all pessimistic. Doesn’t suit you.” You clicked your tongue when he still kept staring at you blankly, looking to have zero thoughts in his head.

You reached over and somewhat aggressively took his thneed, messing around with it in your hands before holding it out in front of you. You first put it on your head as a hat but felt it was stupid. Then you tried wearing it as a scarf...Success! Somehow this is the most comfortable thing you’ve ever worn.

Onceler sat there staring stupidly, and you turned to him with a grin. “Hey, it’s actually pretty good. You made this yourself, right?” Onceler nodded, eyes wide. “It’s creative, but I’m just going to use it as a scarf. How much is it?” You reached into your pocket, ignoring the spluttering mess beside you.

“Wait wait wait–you…you want to buy it!?” Onceler turned to you in absolute disbelief, making you roll your eyes.

“Isn’t that why you kept coming here? The price. Spit it out.” You snuggled a bit into the thneed, smiling. It gave you warm comfort, like the material was made of clouds, or the sun was being absorbed by it. You saw his face turn completely red, and you raised a brow. “What, did you not think of a price?”

“O–Oh! No, no not that. Um, it’s, well,” He told you how much it cost and you dutifully handed him the bills. It wasn’t that expensive, surprisingly. This was a very good deal, and you were forever comfy now.

“Nice.” You happily lifted the thneed and rubbed it on your cheek, not realizing you were smiling sweetly. You noticed the sun was almost behind the horizon and it was getting dark. Distracted, you missed the strangely reverent gaze the man beside you held. “Well, looks like I’m out of here.”

“Huh?” Onceler jolted, and you laughed. He was kind of an airhead.

“It’s getting late. You should probably head back too.” You stood up and patted your pants, readjusting the thneed around your neck.

“Will you…” Onceler suddenly spoke up, and you turned to face him. He stuttered a bit more then went silent, blushing brightly in shame. You rolled your eyes, putting a hand on his head. You ruffled his black hair, before pulling back with a grin.

“Don’t act so unconfident. I think you have a real future with this thneed thing. I believe in you.” You hoped that gave him some confidence. “So, you better come back tomorrow. I’d be bored if you didn’t.” You gave a crooked grin, tilting your head. Onceler frantically nodded, jumping to his feet and leaning forward before abruptly backing away. He gave a very shaky “goodnight” as he turned tail and ran, lanky body unsteady.

He tripped and fell on his face.

You covered your mouth.

He got back up and shouted an, “I’m okay!” before running off.

Once he was out of sight, you burst out laughing. You laughed more than you had in years.

 »»————-———— ♡ ————————-«« 

 Onceler ran all the back to the forest, barely paying attention to the goldfish throwing cards at each other. The bears were mostly retreating since it was night, and he couldn’t see the Lorax anywhere. With a relieved sigh he ran to his–for once animal free–home.

He entered and slammed the door behind himself, before sliding to the floor with his gloved hands over his face. Onceler could still feel the heat from his face despite his thick gloves.

Was that a dream? No, that really happened. Onceler didn’t even imagine it! That really just happened!

You really talked to him!

Since he’d been going to the town he’d been getting harassed left and right. The number of tomatoes and insults was uncountable (today somebody had actually destroyed his guitar!) but he always noticed somebody who actually listened when he presented.

It was you! Onceler smiled, still covering his face. He was so flustered. You always stood to the side and never threw anything or yelled at him. You came by every day for varying amounts of time, but today you actually approached him! 

You were one of the reasons Onceler kept going to town because he knew if he went he could see you at least for a moment. He admired you so much. He was always so afraid to go up to you since you were so…unreachable. You were so perfect and confident and nice and flawless. And your name was just as wonderful as you were.

Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that you would really come and talk to him; comfort him. You pat him on the head and said such nice things. You said you believed in him.

Onceler suddenly jumped to his feet in excitement, dancing around the room with uncontained giddiness. It was his first-ever sale and that was amazing in itself but it was so much more because you bought it. His first ever thneed that he made was sold to you. He didn’t know what to do. He was filled with so many emotions that he thought he was going to explode. This was just the first step. Onceler already thought you were great before, and this just proved his theory. Now he needed to wait for you to feel the same thing for him–and he would start by cultivating a great friendship!

You looked so happy wearing the thneed that Onceler painstakingly made. It made everything worth it. You told him to come back tomorrow so that’s what he would do! He already had another thneed done to present with.

…

Onceler had been playing for a while, using the spare ukulele he found in his car trunk. He ignored the booing and noticed they were out of tomatoes still–like yesterday. He was relieved since now you would see him without all that gross red gunk.

After playing for a long time, looking everywhere, he grew antsy.

Where were you?

Since he’d been coming here you’d at least walk by even if just for a minute. Onceler continued to play but slowly became more disheartened. Did you…not mean what you said? Did you realize that he actually was a failure?

With all those harrowing thoughts he slowly stopped playing and walked off the stage. The smaller crowd was almost disappointed to have their daily harassment cut short, but decided to gossip loudly instead. Onceler sat on the bench from the night before, holding a thneed to his chest for comfort.  

“That’s pretty intense.”

“Gosh, I know, right? It’s not like they ever bothered to fit in with us, so I guess it’s almost comeuppance? Really harsh, though.”

Onceler perked up, hearing your name come up in their conversation. Worry washed away the disappointment from before. Did something happen to you?

“They probably won’t be leaving the house for a while, I reckon. I know I wouldn’t. Muggings never happen in this town.”

Onceler gripped the ukulele’s neck, and it creaked.

“What was even stolen? They don’t ever carry a bag or wallet. Not much money can fit in pockets.”

“That’s the funny thing–apparently the muggers tried to take their…what was it…it’s that thing that annoying guy's always selling.”

“The thneed thing?”

“Mhm. That. Anyways, they fought back against the muggers and ended up getting really roughed up. I mean, I heard those muggers also got pretty beat up too, but nobody knows where they are. It’s kind of funny that the muggers even took the thneed thing, especially when that person fought so hard to keep it. They went to a hospital, all for a piece of cloth.”

The ukulele creaked, then snapped. Onceler abruptly stood up, surprising the three older women behind him. “They were…hospitalized?” Onceler’s voice was even, no indication of being upset.

One woman gave him a weird look, before shrugging. “Mhm. But I heard they ran off right back home without being fully treated. They don’t like being around people. It’s why they never are around town.” The woman spoke with slight contempt, before scuttling off with her two friends.

Onceler kept holding the broken ukulele by the neck, mind spinning with the new overload of information. You got mugged. You didn’t comply because you didn’t want them to take your thneed. You got hurt. You got hurt.

And nobody cared. No, from what he could tell, those women were somehow happy about it. Onceler realized you never interacted with anyone when you stood close to the square. Everyone treated you like you were invisible.

An outcast.

Onceler ran through town, going up to random people and asking if they knew where you lived. Most gave him disdainful looks and ignored him, and some just yelled. Finally, a kid actually answered him by pointing in a direction.

“They live in that old house at the edge of town. I heard it’s haunted. You shouldn’t go, my mommy said the person living there is weird.” Onceler grit his teeth, forcing himself not to lash out. After running some more, he finally reached your house.

...A really run-down house.

It was worn down, the wooden walls old and unsafe looking, the grass around the house matted and uncared for. Onceler went to knock on the door before stopping himself. He went to the side and looked through the window instead, seeing you on the couch watching something on TV. You were wrapped in bandages in a bunch of places, with a large medicinal patch on your cheek and a swollen eye.

Onceler was relieved to know you were okay, before becoming enraged at how hurt you were. He saw a variety of medications on the table along with an opened first aid kit. You looked strangely serene in your situation, not upset in the slightest. Like you were used to it.

Onceler backed away from the window and furrowed his brows. He wanted to go in and confront you, ask why you did something so dangerous just to protect his useless work. But then he thought about it.

…This means you like him too, right? Why else would you fight to keep something he made?

Onceler rubbed the back of his head, happy but not fully. You really liked the thneed he made, so he didn’t want to give you a replacement. That one was important. It was the most meaningful since it was his first one. You were hurt and he needed a way to comfort you without being too overbearing. Plus, there was this leftover…anger?...in his chest that he needed to get rid of. Those muggers needed to suffer the consequences. Onceler thought about it a bit, then his eyes light up.

He knew what to do.

 »»————-———— ♡ ————————-«« 

 You were eating dinner when you heard a knock on the door.

That was new.

You dragged yourself to your feet. Only curiosity drove you to open the door, not really thinking if it could be dangerous. Nobody ever visited you. You opened the door, out of breath from walking.

“…Onceler?” You blinked a few times, wondering if you were seeing things.

“Ah–Yup! It’s me!” He smiled brightly, hands behind his back and rocking on his feet. You rose a brow.

“What are you doing here?”

“I heard rumors about what happened and got worried, so, well, I, uh, just asked around and, um, I also wanted to help so I decided to–”

“Just come in.” You left the door open and walked back to the couch, plopping down and breathing shakily. You closed your eyes briefly to steady yourself, still weak from the encounter last night. You opened one eye and stared at Onceler, seeing him standing in the middle of the room, staring. “What are you holding?”

Onceler jolted, before revealing the thneed behind his back.

“You got me another one? Thanks.” You appreciated that at least. Hopefully, it was free. You really liked those things and the muggers took your cash.

“O–Oh, no, I didn’t do that,” You frowned at him, “I thought that, um, wasn’t fair really.” You were confused. He saw your face and flushed red, “I got it back! For you. The first one. That those muggers took.” Onceler smiled proudly, walking over and presenting the thneed to you.

“Huh?” You hesitantly reached out a took it, “I–what? How?”

“I! Well, I just kind of,” Onceler twiddled his thumbs, looking away while still blushing, “I just got it back. I…found them. And took it back.” You studied him a bit, watching his jittery behavior. But then you looked at his face and saw two bright, innocent eyes. “Are you happy? Do you like it?” Onceler leaned forward, smiling hopefully.

“Yeah.” You nodded slowly, looking at the thneed closely. You move it around and hold it out in front of you. “Huh. It really is mine.” It had the marking you put on it after you bought it. A little initial in the corner of it. You shrug it around your neck, patting it back into place like it was yesterday.

“O–Of course! I thought you, well, I wanted you to keep my first one.” Onceler blushed and waved his hands. “Not in a weird way or anything! It’s my first sale so…it’s important you keep it.” You nod along, figuring it made sense.

“Thanks. I’m glad you got it back for me. Don’t know how you got it, but it makes me feel a lot better, so I don’t care.” You held it close and smiled, rubbing the soft material on your cheek again. “You can sit down next to me.” You gestured to the spot. Onceler brightened up and smiled before almost tripping as he rushed over. He sat down.

“I’m so glad you feel better.” Onceler rubbed his arm, head turned away shyly. “It really sucks that those horrible people did that.” You listened to him while looking at your thneed, nose twitching.

“Huh.” You tilted your head, “I think that’s a bloodstain.” Onceler tensed next to you, but you didn’t bother looking up. “I should probably wash it since it got dirty in the fight. It’s surprisingly sturdy.” Onceler let out a sigh and relaxed.

“Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense. You should do that.” Onceler sounded strangely relieved. About what? You’ve got no clue.

“I’ll do it later. Want to watch a movie with me?” You rested your legs on the table, grabbing the remote. Onceler flushed with a bright smile.

“Of course!”

 »»————-———— ♡ ————————-«« 

 While you watched the movie, Onceler looked at the stained thneed around your neck, tempted to wash it right now. It was dirtied by the blood of those–Onceler shook his head. Thankfully you already came to your own conclusion as to how he got the thneed back.

“You’re not wearing your gloves today.”

“Huh?” Onceler blinked, snapping back to reality. He nervously looked down at his hands, “O-Oh. Well, I usually keep them on since I work with trees a lot…”

“Like chopping them down?”

“Once. I just harvest tufts now. I figure somebody would be mad if I cut down more trees, especially since I’m living in that forest for free.”

“That’s kind of you. But, since you aren’t wearing your gloves, why’d you bring an axe? I saw it on the ground by my door.”

“My axe?” Onceler twitched, looking away. He quickly recouped and smiled shakily. “I thought maybe I could help with your house a bit. Chop down some of the trees on the other side of the town away from where I live and repair the walls. That’s why I brought it.”

“Really? That’s sweet, I guess. You don’t have too. Plus, that axe was the rustiest axe I’ve ever seen so it could never cut down a tree anyways. Once I’m better we can work on the house together–only if you want to, though. I could buy us new axes too.” You smiled, making Onceler turn bright red again.

“That sounds super fun!” Onceler sat up straight and clasped his hands together in excitement. “Maybe I can sell more thneeds so we can keep buying materials.” Onceler’s foot kept tapping, body jittering with giddiness. You laughed into your palm, shaking your head slightly before nudging his shoulder.

“Sure. I’ll hold you to it.”

You went back to the movie, leaning back into the couch. Onceler followed suit but mostly watched you instead of the movie. He was amused at your questions from earlier, realizing you were a lot more unaware than you seemed.

Onceler hadn’t meant to bring his axe with him–he just got so excited to see you after he finally got your thneed back that he just threw it to the side and hoped for the best. At least he was smart enough to take his gloves off too. You bought what he told you, which meant you trusted him a lot. In regard to it being rusted, it was probably too dark for you to see how obviously red it was–the same for his discarded gloves.

It didn’t matter. You were happy you got your thneed back, and he was happy he got more opportunities to be around you. Now you didn’t have to worry about those muggers either, because you wouldn’t see them ever again.

Onceler covered his grin with his hand.

Nobody would.

[okie-dokieartichokie]

Not So Quiet Study Session | CD

request by: @mullthingsoverinthehotwater​​ 

Plot: When studying with Cedric for an upcoming spells test your conversation takes a dark turn, but Cedric is set on making you realize he's not going anywhere.

Warnings: Mentions of near death experiences, angst, smut (fingering, protected sex).

House: Ravenclaw

Year: 7th year

Word count: 1.2k

_______________________________

You sighed softly, your feet kicked up on your boyfriend's lap. The two of you had decided to spend the afternoon studying for your upcoming test in spells. It was your last year in Hogwarts and though the tests didn't count as much, you still wanted to do good on them so you and Cedric decided to study in the courtyard. After the scare at the triwizard championship last year, you and Cedric realized how short life was and since that eye opening experience, you and Cedric have been attached at the hip. You had always shown your love through touch but especially at the incident, you're love language is always being shown, even publicly. Something of yours always had to be touching something of his, hands, legs, arms... lower body.

Speaking of lower body, you snapped out of your thoughts as Cedric gently rubbed your leg trying to get your attention from where he assumed you were reading, little did he know your mind was wandering elsewhere, "Yeah baby?" Cedric smiled leaning down and lightly kissing your shin, "You alright over there? I asked you question three like twenty times." You sighed putting your work down and scooting towards Cedric, "Sorry I just can't focus on the work right now." You went quiet for a second, your words slowly dying down on your tongue as your mind wandered again. Cedric was always quick to notice things like this with you, when you went quiet, when you lose yourself in thought, when you're upset. Cedric laid a gentle kiss on your head smiling softly, "You alright pumpkin pie? Something specific taking your mind away?" You looked up at Cedric nodding softly, "I just, I keep have dreams and nightmares about that night." You didn't even have to say the exact day, it was always on Cedric's mind too, "I know darling, but it's been almost a year, I'm safe and in your arms and I definitely don't plan on going anywhere so don't worry, okay?" You knew what Cedrix was trying to do, you knew he was trying to calm you down but it didn't change how scare you were to leave him, even for a moment or a class, "I know, I know it's just that... it's just that last year really shook me and it made me realize how easily I can lose you. I don't want to lose you Cedric, ever please." Cedric looked over at you, what you said sinking into him and wrenching his heart, the tears in your eyes only hurt him more as he pulled you into a softly and passionate kiss. Pulling away, he rested his head on your forehead looking deeply into your eyes, "Never, you will never lose me." Cedric's gentle hand tossed his work to the side and grabbed your empty hand pulling you to your feet as he got up as well. He looked down at all your books spread out on the ground, but couldn't be bother to bend down and clean it, right now he just needed to show you that he was there, that he was staying, "Come on."

Cedric led you to the perfects bathroom before closing and locking the door, and preforming a silencing spell. He looked at you smiling, leaning down he placed a sweet yet passionate, lingering kiss on your lips smiling cheekily as he pulled away, "Come on I'll show you I'm not going anywhere." You smirked over to him lightly swaying your hips as you walked over to the sinks, this wasn't your first hookup in the perfects bathroom, you used the almost always empty space to your advantage seeing as you definitely couldn't hook up in your rooms, being in different houses and all. You hoped up onto the sink, shimmying your hips back to get in a comfortable position. Cedric quickly found his place in between your legs as he leaned foward kissing you gently. You started to speed up the kiss wanting to go faster, you loved Cedric's sweet and alow pace but after all you didn't have all day and you really couldn't wait much longer, "Ceddy, come on." You whined hoping he'd start removing his clothes. Instead, Cedric pulled back from your lips chuckling and kissing his way down your next. You sighed frustrated and started to grip his house vest, trying your best to pull it up. Finally giving in Cedric removed his shirt chuckling, "So impatient sometimes, I swear." You groaned rolling your eyes as he loosened his tie, taking it off and started on his button down shirt. He nodded towards you, signaling your clothes needed to come off too. You quickly derobed, shimmying out of your skirt and panties, the cold sink causing you to shiver and your nipples to perk up. This obviously drew in Cedric's attention as he found his way back over to you. He gently worked your chest in both his hands as he laid kisses down your chest and stomach. You whined softly squirming around as your heat started to pool more, "Cedric if you don't get on with it soon I'll finish my-" you were cut off when a finger entered you. You gasped softly looking down at your smug boyfriend, you rolled you eyes before your head dropped back as he started working you over with his fingers. You soon became a moaning mess as he added two more fingers slowly over time, making sure your were stretched out. Close to your release you tapped Cedric's head, wanting to finish on his cock not his fingers. He pulled away gently grabbing his pants and a condom out. You slowly put the condom on, pumping himself a few times before walking towards you, "I promise you'll never lose me, I want to make sure I'm always the one your moaning for." And with that he slowly pushed in smirking as you moaned deeply. As he started to find his rhythm, sweet, soft moans fell for both your lips that became more and more intense over time. You felt your heat start to pool leaning your head on his shoulder, "Oh Cedric please." Cedric smiled softly against the skin of your shoulder, he kissed it gently whispering sweet confirmations in your ear making sure you knew he wasn't going anywhere. You were stumbling towards the edge, just needing a little bit more when Cedric's fingers met your clit and massaged it gently. You felt yourself tumble over the edge as you moaned and screamed Cedric's name pushing him over the edge too and causing him to spill right into the condom.

You both slowly came down from your high, smiling with pure bliss as you cleaned up. Redressing and fixing your hair, Cedric couldn't keep his eyes off of you as he watched you. He smiled the whole time thinking about your concern and love for him, he felt so overwhelmingly happy knowing the love of his life loved him just as much. You turned after finished cleaning up smiling at Cedric, "I love you Ceddy baby." You gave him your best lovey eyes and a big kiss. Cedric smiled chuckling and shaking his head, "No Y/N, you are not getting out of studying for the spells test tomorrow." Your groan echoed throughout the bathroom as you both chuckled, "If but this time I ask the questions."

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This is my first time writing smut so I'm so sorry if it's trash, also I'm sorry for the angst, but I hoped you liked it! Also I changed it around a little bit, I'm sorry it wasn't explicitly stated that her love language it touch.

[poodlejoonas]

[TW] Joonas - One More

For @bcfanweek​ Day 3: Joonas Porko

Words: 1,353

Description: Joonas never imagined that he’d be the first in the band to become a dad, but he was ready to take the dive.

Notes: Joonas Porko/Reader

Trigger warning: tokophobia. If this topic is upsetting, skip and proceed to the next Joonas short. 

Joonas anxiously paced the hospital waiting area. He’d been temporarily kicked out of your room so you could get an hour or so of rest alone before it was time for the baby to arrive. He felt helpless but assured that you were in great hands. He was on call and ready to return at any time.

Neither one of you was prepared for the moment when you learned that you would become parents. It was the beginning of April, and with your calculations you figured that it must have happened Valentine’s Day weekend. You remembered it fondly: a weekend trip up to a cabin in rural Lapland with enough food and wine to eat like kings. Joonas and the cabin owners surprised you with candles and rose petals around the bed and bathtub. It was his idea, seeing that you hadn’t been on vacation together in a while, and he wanted it to be perfect.

Joonas still thought of himself as too immature to be responsible for himself, let alone another human being. There was total silence in your home for a full hour until he returned to your bedroom and shared his thoughts. He was terrified, but he was ready to take the plunge. If there was any right person to start his family with, it had to be you.

It took him a month to open up to others around the two of you. Of course, both of you told your parents first, as soon as it was safe enough to do so. Within the next month, he’d gone to perform at Eurovision and called as often as he could to know that you were comfortable at home. He eventually told the rest of his band when Olli walked in on him asking you how you were feeling. They were shocked at first, for obvious reasons, but supportive of their bandmate’s next big step in life.

He was most terrified of the reaction of the fans and media. He was afraid of the scandal - on the verge of achieving international success and getting ready to have a baby with his girlfriend. They knew that he’d gotten into a relationship but no one expected it to be more than just another temporary fling. There were the inevitable upset people, mostly the ones who thought that he would be leaving the band, but the response was overwhelmingly positive. From then on, with your permission, he was more than happy to field any question about his feelings on the matter. He was often asked if he was going to start sanitizing his image, but he offered a constant and resounding no. He joked that he was determined to have the coolest kid in Finland.

Now the big day has finally come, in the middle of November. He laughed once he realized that the band’s first baby would be yet another Scorpio to add onto the two who were already here. He cracked a joke on how he’d be able to manage another one and earned a well-deserved shoulder punch from Aleksi.

Speaking of the rest of the band, they hadn’t come to the hospital yet but were on call to arrive whenever they could. Tommi and Aleksi were on their way to Helsinki together and Olli was hanging out at Niko’s place. The only one who was already there, on request for emotional support, was Joel.

The pair were having a smoke break in the hospital’s designated spot. Well, Joel was having a smoke and Joonas was resisting the urge. He committed to staying totally sober around this time, but it was a difficult task. Recently, he’d debated on quitting smoking altogether, but the alcohol was staying for the time being.

Joel took a deep breath and blew it away from his direction. “Heard anything yet?”

Joonas disappointingly shook his head no. “Nothing. The nurse said they plan to start at 6 PM and now it’s… 5:43. Dammit.”

Joel chuckled. “Look at you, being impatient.” It was a joke, but Joonas wasn’t laughing. He was too focused on his phone screen with nothing but the time on it. He had totally zoned out. “Hey, Porko. What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing really.” Joonas answered but he wasn’t entirely secure in his response. 

The two of them had been friends long enough for Joel to know when his friend was lying. Something was weighing heavily on the guitarist’s mind. “Tell me what you’re thinking, Joonas. Please. Are you worried about them right now? Or just nervous?”

“Yes,” Joonas responded, laughing to try to ease the awkwardness. “Can I be totally honest with you?”

Joel put out the cigarette under his foot. “Go for it.”

Joonas leaned back and sighed. “I’m so anxious about this whole thing. I can barely take care of myself and now I’m gonna have someone else to raise. And now it’s too late for me to even decide if I’m ready because if I’m not, then tough shit.”

Joel nodded as he listened. “That’s fair. But is anyone ever ready for this kind of thing? You know kids can be unpredictable little shits.”

The comment made Joonas laugh. “Guess you’re not getting babysitting duty.”

“But you know what I mean, right? If people only had kids when they were ready, then there wouldn’t even be any. You’re not alone in this.”

“That’s fair. I just want to be a good father for her.”

“And you will, trust me. You do a great job keeping us on schedule, so I think you’ll be fine.”

Joonas felt touched by his friend’s words of encouragement. He was going to be a young father, and his anxieties lied in wondering whether his daughter would have a good life with him. Although the fear still lingered, he believed that if he tried his best, it would work itself out.

He then received the call that it was time to go back into your hospital room. Joel gave him a pat on the back and offered to give the other members a call to let them know. He rejoined you, masked up and fully dressed, ready to offer emotional support. He sat down beside you and whispered, “you’re gonna be okay, baby.”

Your daughter Sohvi Laina Porko arrived within the next hour, and all either of you could do is breathe a sigh of relief. She was healthy and safe in your arms. Joonas looked on with awe, too afraid to touch the tiny being in case he accidentally hurt her. You laughed ever so slightly. “It’s okay, Joonie, you can hold her if you want.”

Sohvi began to cry as she left your arms but Joonas held her tighter. “Shh, it’s okay, kulta. I got you.” He hoped that she would be as beautiful and kind as you are, but he could already see a bit of himself in her face. “Can the guys see her next?”

You sleepily nodded your head. Sleep in a hospital was hardly restful, but it was worth making an effort. Joonas offered a small kiss on his way out to the waiting room. He held her tight, afraid that something would happen if he let her go.

He strolled into the waiting room where the rest of the band was sitting. “She’s here,” he announced proudly. “Say hello to Sohvi.”

The waiting room was filled with a chorus of cheers as each member took turns getting a glance at the baby. She’d fallen asleep and was none the wiser to the commotion of her new uncles around her.

“She’s amazing, Joonas,” Olli commented quietly. Niko captured a photo of the split second when Joonas was observing her with admiration. He showed it to Joonas, who agreed that it was perfect for the band’s Instagram account, but that it needed to wait until both of your parents could see her first. More photos were taken, with masks to protect her from COVID. 

Now, Joonas wondered what he even had to be afraid of. Sohvi may have been a surprise, but she was by no means unloved. Far, far from it.

Endnotes:

Pssst, if you’ve made it this far, I’m always open and willing to accept headcanons for this idea because this was my favorite to write. Fire away :)

And if you’d like, feel free to check out the prequel on AO3: [x].