#once I’m done editing and can know exactly what I’m working with

[stiles-o-dylan24]

If you ever decide to make iaby into an actual book, I will totally buy it like no matter what! 💛

I want to smother you with cuddles🥺

Sooooo I’m actually in the process of going through the chapters with a proper editing process for the entire series fixing grammar, flow of sentences/scenes, and adding in more scenes I wish I had to begin with and once I’m done I will absolutely be uploading it to be printed into a book with Lulu. No idea how that process will be but I will be updating on here when I’m ready for it to be printed and see about how to get copies to people who want them.

Also means I will need to figure out a cover… which I’m totally at a loss with what to do for that

[greetings-inferiors]

Yes, hi, what's happening to reddit? I usually check some fandom news there but everything is private/blocked now? I have an account and not even that allows me to enter?

Reddit is changing their policy so they every thousand api requests they charge money. This means that third party apps, moderation tools, and other various things just won’t work anymore, since these things rack up thousands of requests very quickly, they’d just be unsustainable to run.

This cost would be average out to a dollar per month per person using third party applications, like an alternative app, text to speech, moderation tools, etc. Reddit has millions and million of users, most of which would be affected.

For example, Apollo for Reddit, a popular third party alternative to the Reddit app (which I used myself, seriously the Reddit app is abysmal) would cost $20MILLION DOLLARS A YEAR TO RUN. Given the app is developed by one guy, that legitimately puts him out of business.

Moderation would get even worse than it already is, as moderation tools use the api to effectively moderate, but now it’s at a cost.

The reason why this change is happening, is because the API can be used to collect data for AI, and, to quote the CEO, “the Reddit corpus of data is really valuable” and he doesn't want to “need to give all of that value to some of the largest companies in the world for free.”

So, once again, AI and capitalism is ruining things for everyone else.

This is a change that is created solely to make money without thinking for a second about the millions of people it would effect. This lead to 7000 of the most popular subreddits blacking out for 48 hours in protest, and I’m pretty sure it crashed the whole site. The voice of the people has definitely been heard, now it’s just time to see if it’s done anything.

Edit: I got something wrong! Thanks to all who corrected me! No thanks to the anon who was an asshole about it lmao

It’s not that Reddit is charging that’s the problem, it’s that it’s charging way too much, is way too short of a deadline to change it, and spez is just an asshole lying about the Apollo dev. Still a shit situation! Just not exactly for the reasons I said. Look into the reblogs for people who know more!!

[sizzleissues]

Its May.

Okay so this is in the same AU I had last year its just changed and evolved while also being the exact same. Except now I have 15,000 words of it written, like 7,000 words of planning and lore and hours upon hours of research that I will be pointedly ignoring. Will be posting more stuff this month about the AU and my hopes and dreams for it

Also slight art improvement check? I’ll put their original mermaid designs below the cut.

It’s Marinette as a mermaid and … its not Adrien or Chat Noir but a third worse thing (Catwalker but in the purest manifestation of it being a curse and not who he wants to be) I will be making designs for mer!Ladybug, and mer!Adrien as its own thing later on.

Okay if you want to indulge me look below the cut

Old mermaid designs first. I am going to be talking about my design thoughts, thoughts and ramblings about this AU and what I’ve been up to. You have been warned

As you can see, some things have changed but neither design I hated, I just wanted to go further with it.

My brain is quite specific about mermaids and how I want them to generally look. I wanted to distinguish biological merfolk from transformed humans by having them being anatomically different. So Adrien has a vertical tail instead which is also way faster underwater. His transformation is quite distressing for him and very chaotic. Of course when he accepts it he’s not so raggedy.

Marinette similarly avoids her life as a mermaid by becoming human and I wanted her mermaid design to hint toward her fascination with humans. She wears a top she fashioned from human fabric she found in a sunken merchant vessel. In general all other merfolk either forgo clothes or wear things fashioned from materials available to them. There’s deep fear of humans and human things so even though human clothes are available to them (off dead bodies but…. Whatever) they choose to difference themselves as much as possible. The same taboos don’t exist for them and their bodies are already adapted from the temperature of their environment. Adrien has stray bits of netting and seaweed on him because he’s not exactly the best at controlling his speed and often crash’s through fishing nets and patches of seaweed resulting in stuff being caught on him.

A lot of their designs are still being worked but I’ve definitely pushed them the right direction!

On to the AU. You might have seem me cryptically talk about something I’m writing the past few weeks. This is because it’s been in my brain since last May and been on and off writing it since then. I decided I’d talk about it once May came back around but and then when I finished writing it, start posting sneak peaks and more spoilery art until it was fully edited and I felt confident in it to post with an aim for it to finish posting once May rolled around again. Oh god.

It’s set in the late 1700s in a fictional version of France that’s actually fragmented over a bunch of islands. I have done more fashion research than I ever thought I’d do and in the end we will still be taking creative license but know I do know what they actually wore! I ALSO did a butt tonne of research about sailing ships and turns out they are super complicated and now I know too much and yet too little still about them. It should be super fun and action packed if I can manage. Have some really good scenes already in my head I know you’ll love. We’re already three ships battle deep and I’ve only written four chapters. (It chills out for a bit after that)

This is entirely self-indulgent by the way. I’m writing this for me, you guys are just a bonus. I literally don’t care as long as it satiates my rabid need for the fic that only lives in my brain at the moment. Saying that, I do want to put my best foot forward.

The next thing I will be posting for this is their human forms and more blabblerings about that. For I am insane and all.

[achilles-rage]

Good Luck Charm: Chapter 5

college football player!buck x plus size!reader

summary: the next day you meet evan at the library, where he makes you explain your actions yesterday. then, the next day, an innocent conversation almost turns into one you're both waiting for.

word count: 2.5k

previous chapter

series masterlist

A/N: you guys!!! the feedback on this fic has been so overwhelming, thank you so much!!! i was gonna post a request today but since this one was a little better edited and i haven't had a lot of time today, i figured i'd post this today instead and post the request tomorrow! enjoy<333

warnings: inexperienced!reader, slight enemies to lovers??? a touch of slowburn???, no use of y/n, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

The next morning, you drag yourself out of bed. You’re really not looking forward to seeing Evan today, and it feels a little weird. You’re usually excited to see him, but you can’t push away the dread in your belly as you think about what to say to him if he asks why you were so short with him yesterday. While you do feel bad about how you treated him, your feelings about him stay the same: you don’t believe he actually likes you. You just know now that you can’t hold that against him. You can’t force him to like you back, after all.

You make your way to the fifth floor of the library, seeing that he’s already sitting at the table you both have deemed yours. You sit down without a word and start pulling your supplies out of your bag, trying to ignore the way he’s studying your movements.

As soon as you get situated, you start to open your laptop, but his hand immediately comes out to close it. He leans forward on the table in your direction, making sure part of his arm is on your laptop as he rests his chin on his fist, making sure you can’t open it and ignore his presence any further.

“Nuh uh. No assignment today. You’re gonna talk to me about what’s going on in your pretty little head.” he states, keeping his eyes soft as he looks up at you, trying not to spook you. He notices the way you’re holding your breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you gather your thoughts.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” you say softly once you open your eyes, still refusing to look him in the eye. You’re afraid you’ll tell him everything if you look in those big blue eyes. He scoffs at your words, reaching a hand out to grab your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Princess, don’t do this. Yell at me if you want. Just don’t ignore me.” he begs you, keeping your chin in his grip as he moves his face just inches away from yours. You have so many thoughts whirring around in your head, but all you can get out with him so close is: “We shouldn’t be friends.”

“Why the hell not?” he asks defensively, his tone hardening at your words. He tightens his grip on your chin as you try to look away, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to snap your eyes back to his. 

“We have nothing in common. You play football, and you go to all the frat parties, and you get like, every single girl you want, probably. I don’t do any of that. I go to class, and when I’m not doing class work, I hang out with my roommate, or go to work.” you explain. You’re not exactly saying you don’t want to be friends, just that you don’t understand it, and he picks up on this.

“Why does that matter?” He’s desperate to understand where you’re coming from. He really sees nothing wrong with what you’re saying. Your differences are what attracted him to you in the first place, and how pretty you were, but that’s not the point.

“It just makes no sense!” you exclaim, looking around the library with wide eyes once you realize how loud it came out. “I don’t know why I thought we could be friends, or something. We should just finish this assignment, and be done with it.” you finish, voice much softer as you lean away from his touch, trying to open your laptop again.

“I don’t want that.” he says matter of factly, putting a hand over your laptop again, keeping it closed. You huff, looking back up at him, frowning slightly as you chew on the inside of your cheek.

“I didn’t ask what you wanted.” you say with as much conviction as you can. You can feel the tears slowly forming in your eyes, and you try to will them away as you hold eye contact. You’re not even sure why you’re crying, but you can feel the way his eyes are boring into you, and it feels more intimate than any of the other times he’s looked at you.

“Why don’t I get a say in this? You think that just because we don’t have anything in common, there’s no reason for us to hang out? Well, I don’t agree. I like hanging out with you. I wanna keep hanging out with you, even when we’re done with this stupid assignment. I don’t care about any of the stuff you just said, alright? Now, please don’t shut me out.” he says angrily, jaw clenched.

He can’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. He doesn’t understand where it’s coming from; how does this have anything to do with his conversation with Sabrina? He thought he was finally wearing you down, and it makes his chest contract in an odd way as he takes in your tense body language. 

“I just don’t understand.” you trail off, looking down as you see the anger creeping onto his face. You aren’t trying to upset him, you just aren’t sure what else to say without explaining your feelings for him.

“I don’t care. You don’t have to understand. You just have to know that you’re not getting rid of me that easily. I like seeing your pretty face everyday.” he whispers the last part, nudging your elbow softly on the table, giving you a soft smile. 

“Okay.” you mumble after a moment, feeling a smile fighting its way onto your face. You can’t help it. Everytime he calls you pretty, your heart races and you can’t help but fidget with your hands.

“Is that a smile?” he teases, ducking his head, trying to get a better look at your face, still angled down at the table. You shake your head, but a soft laugh escapes your throat, betraying you. He smirks at this, tongue trailing the inside of his cheek as his eyes glance to your lips for a moment before going back to your eyes.

“There she is. You’re gorgeous, you know that?” he tells you softly, trying to ease you back out of your shell. He’s picked up on the way you get all shy when he compliments you, and he figures this is the fastest way for you to get back to how you two were before. Your eyes dart up to his, shaking your head with a small smile.

“Let’s get to work.” you whisper, pushing his hand off your laptop and opening it. He straightens his back as he stops leaning on the table, feeling giddy as he sees you slowly letting him back in.

“Yes ma’am.” he mumbles back, opening his own laptop.

The next day, you’re standing in the hall with a girl you’ve had a few classes with, a small container open between the two of you as you offer her a cookie. You have to get rid of them somehow; you baked way more than you and your roommate could eat. After a few minutes, you both say goodbye and she goes into her class.

As soon as she walks away Evan walks up to you, quickly snatching a cookie from the container before you can put the lid back on. You smile once you realize it’s him, lowering the lid of the container as you keep the cookies between the both of  you.

He winks at you as he takes a bite, then lets out a loud moan, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as the taste hits his tongue. A high pitched laugh escapes your throat at the noise, and you reach out and swat him with the container lid gently, looking around at the other people in the hall who are now staring at both of you.

“Did you make these?” he asks once he swallows, opening his eyes and looking back down at you. You nod, laughing softly. “God. How do you not have a boyfriend?”

“Just lucky, I guess.” you tease softly, face growing hot. He shoves the rest of the cookie in his mouth, humming softly as he chews. You laugh again at his actions, shaking your head at his puffed out cheeks full of food. As he chews, his mind races at your words. Now he’s picturing you as a girlfriend. His girlfriend. How you’d be around him. How he’d be able to touch you whenever he wanted. It’s urging him to make a move on you sooner rather than later.

After he finishes the cookie, he looks down at you, eyes softening slightly as he speaks with a more serious tone. It’s now or never, he thinks.

“Seriously, though. Why?” You shrug, pursing your lips, nervously. You think you know why, but you really don’t want to explain to this attractive man exactly why you think so.

“I don’t know. Guys don’t really approach me much.” you tell him softly, eyes darting around the hallway as you notice that most people have filed into different classrooms.

“And have you thought that you’d have more success finding a guy who likes you if you didn’t bite the head off of every guy that approaches you, princess?” he teases, referencing the first time you met. You laugh softly, shaking your head. “My attitude has nothing to do with it.” you tell him, voice getting softer as you keep talking. The way he’s staring so intently at you has your stomach doing flips, and you can feel your mouth go dry as he speaks.

“Oh, really? You’re stubborn and feisty towards anyone giving you an ounce of attention, and yet you can’t figure out why no guys stick around long enough to appreciate you?” You purse your lips at his words, taking in the smirk stuck on his face as he teases you.

“I’m not like that around other people.” you admit sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders. His eyes widen slightly at this. He’s so used to you arguing with him that he almost can’t believe that you’re not like this with everyone. “Then why were you so defensive towards me? Why were you in attack mode when I first started talking to you?” he asks after a moment, his smirk widening as your eyes dart around nervously.

“You drive me crazy.” you whisper, as if it was that simple, eyes focused on your hands as you put the lid back on your container. It’s true, he does. He just doesn’t need to know it’s because he’s so attractive it makes your head spin.

“Is that so?” he matches your tone, taking another step closer to you. He’s pretty sure he knows why now; with your nervous expression and your fidgeting. He just wants you to say it. 

“Yes.” you whisper, swallowing as you raise your chin to look up at him

“And why is that, Princess? Why do I drive you crazy?” he continues, waiting for you to admit it.

“I don’t know.” you lie, letting out a shaky breath. You’re sure now that he knows everything. You’re really not doing a good job at hiding anything from him, but you’re so nervous and out of your element that you’re not sure what to do.

“No, I think you do. You’re just too embarrassed to admit it. Go ahead, tell me why I have you so riled up.” You can barely focus on his words as you look up at his face; you’re so overwhelmed by how close he is. You can’t help your eyes glancing down at his lips for a split second before moving back up to his eyes, mind blank as you try to slow your racing heart.

He notices your eyes trailing down to his lips quickly and his smirk grows wider. His eyes glace down to your lips as he takes a deep inhale, deciding that now is his chance. 

Just as he’s about to lower his lips to yours, someone drops their phone, a loud sound echoing through the hallway you’re in. It causes you both to snap out of the world where only you two exist. You jump slightly, then look away, blinking slowly as he clears his throat. 

Fuck, he thinks, the moment is now completely ruined. He barely has time to react before you look back up at him, your brain catching up to the events that just occurred.

“Don’t you have class right now?” you ask him softly. You can’t believe you thought he was going to kiss you. He’s probably flirty with every girl. Maybe he just doesn’t know how to turn off the charm? Your face grows hot as you think about it, waiting for him to respond.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. I guess I’ll, uh, go,” His shoulders deflate slightly as he responds to you. Maybe he had read you wrong, maybe you didn’t want to kiss him. He doesn’t want to push you any further, so he decides it’s better for him to just go. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nod, smiling softly, but he can see the nervousness written on your face. He gives you a small smile back and steps away, trying to give you your space. He feels like a complete douchebag, he feels like he almost just forced himself onto you. He’s picked up on your shy demeanor over the last few weeks, and he had assumed it was because of him, but now he thinks that maybe you’re just that shy around everyone else.

He says goodbye before walking away, and you let out a shaky breath once he does, still reeling from how close he was to you.

“Morning, princess.” he says as he sits down at the table the next morning, chuckling as he notices that you’re already almost done your coffee. He knows that you get coffee in the morning on campus before coming here, and he figures today has been a rough morning, as you’ve basically chugged the whole thing already. You greet him softly, taking your eyes off your laptop and meeting his gaze. 

“I accidentally submitted my pre-edited assignment to my professor. He emailed me this morning and asked why my essay was titled ‘Why Macbeth is a Whiny Little Bitch.’” you say, your face hot with embarrassment. Evan’s eyes widen, and he can’t help the loud laugh that escapes his throat, which makes the smile you were fighting erupt on your face.

“How the hell did you do that?” he asks through his laughter, and you shake your head, pursing your lips at his reaction.

“The un-edited one and the edited one were right beside each other, I clicked the wrong one.” you say, finally letting out a small laugh at your misfortune. You’re very lucky your professor is one of the most laid back ones you’ve had, and your assignments are usually very well done.

He continues laughing, and asks why you named it that, which sends you into a small rant about the Shakespeare play. 

As you explain, it’s almost as if your almost-kiss is forgotten about, or at least, the awkward events that happened after it are. You’re talking to him without feeling weird at all, and he has that stupid smirk on his face as he flirts with you again. It feels natural, and neither of you think too much about what almost happened, lost in how good it feels to be around each other.

next chapter

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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[ghostofwriting]

Kildare Split Part Two: Place In Me

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Chapter 2: Place In Me

Note: Me: I don't know when I'll post chapter 2 maybe on the weekend but who knows. Also me: posts 3 hours after saying that. Once again I wanted to thank everyone for reading and interacting! I appreciate all of you so much. Not edited so be warned. I confused everyone with part 21 and this doesn't provide any answers! Just more context for other parts of the smau. Enjoy!

Warnings: none, bad writing, Rafe being mean, y/n being mean

Word Count: 3,371

Synopsis: Everyone has noticed that there's been a shift in how Kildare Split acts around each other. Rafe and Y/N used to be so close, they were always pictured together, and always shared stories of each other and for the last few years, there has been nothing from them. A behind-the-scenes look at what went down between everyone's favourite band.

She thought that she made herself clear and that they understood where she was coming from after her speech in the green room.

She’s not expecting Barry to be sitting on the couch of the tour bus she had chosen to sleep in, her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead from her run, slightly out of breath. 

When she opens the door and sees him sitting there, she jumps.

“Fuck, Barry what the hell?” Barry had a very specific regime for show days. He should’ve been napping on the other bus.

“We can’t go on hiatus. You’re being selfish.” She feels her ears start burning, she scoffs at him. 

“Selfish? You better be kidding me. The audacity of you to come in here and accuse me of being selfish?”

“Y-” She doesn’t let him continue.

“I have put up with this bullshit for two years, Barry! Just because I’m tired and need a break doesn’t make me selfish.”

“If you would just talk to him.”

“No. Fuck you. No.”

“If you talk to him, and he explains himself, you’ll understand and this can all go back to normal.”

“No. I will not fix this. I don’t need to fix this.”

“What happened to be there for each other?”

“Barry. You and Topper were supposed to be there for me!” She snaps, her voice rising.

“You were the only people who knew exactly what I was going through not only with Rafe but with the fame and the drugs and the people wanting things from me. You were going through it too, I know you were. But you abandoned me the second Rafe decided to what? Get in a relationship? You threw me away, I was so alone!” 

Tears are threatening to spill over now. She hates how she can’t get angry without crying. 

“I went through everything by myself and the people I thought were my best friends abandoned me. I get it okay. You chose your boy. But I thought I meant something to you. I thought I was your friend. He broke my heart and my spirit.” She stops to catch her breath, “I was a shell of a person and you still didn’t even ask me if I was okay. In two years you haven't checked in.”

“y/n..”

“He told me he didn’t want to live without me and the next day I found out he was seeing Sofia. And suddenly I wasn’t his friend or his bandmate or even a person. I was just someone he fucked. And I don’t care why he said that. I don’t care if he meant it or not or if he was lost and scared. He still said it. I’m done. I’m done with him, I’m done with this Los Angeles, I’m done. I don’t owe him anything. I don’t need to talk to him.” She finishes her chest heaving. Barry is staring at her, eyes wide.

“What does that mean?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay in the band. But it’s work. That’s all. We aren’t friends.” 

Barry’s silent. Still sitting on the bus couch. 

“Get out. Please.” 

+++

The early days of getting over Rafe were hard. She wanted to go back to who she was before him. The version of herself before she got involved with him. Journaling and writing song lyrics and poems could only do so much. Everyone told her that she needed someone else. She understood that but she didn’t feel like it. She wasn’t ready to get her heartbroken all over again. 

Not when she constantly got her heart broken on tour, not only when she saw Rafe making out with Sofia backstage but when Barry walked right by her without acknowledging her existence, or when Topper pretended not to hear her. Her heart cracked every time for the little girl who trusted these boys with her entire being and let them in only for them to stomp all over her. 

She spent endless nights on tour, alone in her hotel room crying at the top of her lungs and on the tour bus muffling the sound of her sobs with her pillow. So when people suggested she needed to meet someone to get over him, well, it didn’t sound like a good idea to just let someone else in to break her even more when they eventually left. 

It got better little by little, the heartache over her friends hating her. The heartbreak over Rafe choosing someone who wasn’t her, someone who was worth it. The loneliness never did. It was crippling how alone she felt. There were times when she wanted to go back to the drugs, drinking, and partying. She would feel so much better if she just couldn’t feel anymore. She didn’t go back on the promise that she made to herself. She would never be that afraid high out of her mind 17-year-old girl again. 

She isn’t sure if she gets over Rafe or if she learned to live with the pain. Sometimes she thinks she’s so angry at him and that’s the reason she doesn’t want him. She misses him all the time, she thinks she’ll miss him forever. At least who they were before they had sex and fucked it all up. 

She lets everyone know that when the time comes she’ll make them all aware. Cleo tells her that she better be the first one who finds out she’s seeing someone. She tells her that she wouldn’t have it any other way.

The day she met him was one of the most ordinary days she had lived in her entire life. She had woken up in her Los Angeles apartment, made herself breakfast, gone for a swim and gotten ready for the day. She didn’t have anything planned for the day, maybe tidy up a little, call Sarah, and run some errands. The craving to make brownies hits her out of nowhere, she doesn’t have any of the ingredients at her house though, the life of a touring artist. 

She’s leaving the grocery store with her reusable bags filled to the brim with all her cravings. She’s digging in her tiny pink purse that can’t hold anything for her keys when she drops two of her bags. 

She doesn’t want to get angry when she sees everything fall, she stares at it for a second, takes a deep breath and moves to pick it up. Once she gets everything together and packed up in her car, she decides that she needs a little treat for putting up with her groceries falling.

Her favorite pastry spot in LA is right by a hotel where all the celebrities who don’t live in the city full time. It’s usually a curse because everyone is hanging out or camping outside the hotel for a small glimpse of someone famous.

She thanks Caroline, the bakery owner and steps out of the store without looking at where she’s going. She feels herself collide into something strong and hard. Someone. Her pastries shake in the box. Of course, this would happen too. Why can’t she just keep herself from dropping her food today?

“I am so sorry.” She says to the man standing in front of her. He’s pretty, she thinks. Dark brown hair, almost black, brown eyes that look very familiar, and strong, and his arms are bulging where his black shirt sleeve ends. He’s hot. 

“Don’t worry, you’re fine.” She hears his friend behind say something in a different language and the man in front of her shakes his head and smiles at her. 

“Are they making fun of me for being a klutz?” He laughs. 

“No, they think it’s funny that I would run into my celebrity crush. Literally.” Any other time, if someone confessed that she was their celebrity crush, she would run so far so fast. Something keeps her there, smiling like an idiot, at a loss for words. She says the first thing that pops into her head.

“Have we met? You look familiar.” She feels like she’s seen him somewhere but she can’t place him. 

“Mira que te ha visto a través de la ventana.” one of his friends says, he shushes him not even turning to look. 

“I’m an actor?” He says it like a question, his cheeks flush, and he’s embarrassed. It’s endearing. 

“Yeah? Have I seen anything you’ve been in?” 

“I doubt it.” 

“So as your celebrity crush, it seems that I have a responsibility to watch whatever you’ve been in, don't you think?”

“No way.” He smiles at his friends doing a quiet chant of something behind him.

“No? Not even if you join me and walk me through it?” She knows she’s giving him eyes now, looking at him through her eyelashes, fluttering her eyelids a little too much. Her resolve is gone, she doesn’t know where her confidence is coming from and she’s going to use it until it’s gone. 

“We could arrange that,” he pauses, “Julio.” He extends his hand out for her to shake. 

“Y/N.” and maybe when she takes his hand she feels a shock run up her arm. 

Maybe she’s being dramatic and jumping the gun but what if everything she’s been through led her to this moment? Right here with him. 

+++

When Rafe finds out Y/N is seeing someone he tries not to lose it. He knows he has no right. His palms start sweating. He feels his breath shorten, he’s honestly a mess though he doesn’t show it. 

At least not until Topper pushes him on the subject when they’re left alone. 

“She’s seeing someone.” The room is eerily quiet, they’re in the studio recording their second album. Y/N had gone off to probably call her boyfriend and Barry was off doing who knows who.

“Yeah.” He’s short with his answer, scrolling on his phone to distract himself from the ever-intrusive thoughts of her her her. 

“You good?” No. No, of course he’s not good.

“I have Sofia.” Topper clears his throat and continues his torture on him. 

“Doesn’t answer my question.” 

“Yeah.” He looks over at Topper, his eyebrows lifting in acknowledgement.

They stay quiet for a few more minutes, the questions and thoughts and everything eating at him.

“Who’s the guy?” The question forces its way out of his mouth. He doesn’t want to know anything about the man that holds her heart.

“Some actor,” Topper responds nonchalantly, looking at him like he’s going to blow up if he moves anymore.

“Cool.” He wants to claw his heart out. What the fuck is happening to him right now.

“Rafe.” Topper isn’t convinced that it’s cool at all. Because Rafe can lie to everyone in his life but not Topper.

“No yeah, that’s cool. It’s great, yeah, good for her.” He knows he still doesn’t sound convincing.

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Let her be happy.” He’s going to be mature about this. He asked Sofia to marry him last year for god sake. If he gets to be happy, she does too. Is he happy?

“Rafe.” Fucking Topper and his questions.

“I’ve fucked her life up enough. She deserves this. Deserves someone.” It spills out of him again, his eyes meeting with Topper’s, begging him to stop. 

“Do you ever miss her?” Topper’s not showing him any mercy today, wanting to know everything he’s kept inside for the past two years.

“More than anything.”

“You fucked up” understatement of his life. He ruined her and in turn, ruined himself. He was stupid and selfish and he deserved the worst.

“Yeah.”

+++

“You have to apologize to her.” Rafe’s once again fiddling with his guitar. The arena is empty except for the techs playing with lightingThe stage had been set up the night before. Y/N was with Sarah exploring the city before she had to be back for soundcheck. Barry was taking a nap and Topper was being a pain in his ass. He tweeted some bullshit at him and Rafe had called him back to talk.

“I don’t have to do anything, she’s leaving.”

“Yeah because of you. Because of what you did to her.”

“I seem to remember that you were included in isolating her.”

“That only happened because she was so hurt she pushed everyone away and I thought I would make it worse by forcing her to talk. Anyway, that’s between y/n and I. You need to take responsibility, Rafe.”

“For what? It wasn’t my fault I didn’t love her.”

“Oh fuck off Rafe. You loved her. You were just scared.”

“Of course I was scared! It could’ve ruined everything. The band, our careers.”

“You shouldn’t have ever gotten involved.”

“I couldn’t help it!” He closes his eyes, doing the breathing exercises they taught him in rehab, in therapy. 

“Please, just talk to her.” 

“She doesn’t want to hear it.”

“You have to try!’

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“You won’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“Because I’m engaged. I’m with Sofia and I’m happy and if,” he breathes “if y/n were to even give me the slightest greenlight I would burn my whole relationship to the ground. Her whole relationship.” He says the last part under his breath, hoping Topper doesn’t hear it.

“What the fuck, Rafe?”

“I know.”

“Why now?”

“I did and said some shit back then to not fuck up the band. It was wrong, stupid and childish. It’s not a question of ‘why now,’ I never stopped.”

“You still love her.” Rafe doesn’t confirm or deny it. Topper shakes his head. 

“You need to apologize.” Topper leaves Rafe to strum his guitar in thought. 

+++

Everything changes when he comes into her life. It’s like she was living in this deep black hole of anger, sadness, and endless turmoil. He’s her calm. He grounds her and she feels like she can finally breathe. She hasn’t felt wanted in such a long time and even though they are long distance most of the time between his film schedule and her tours, she has never felt alone since meeting him. 

She has a video from him every time she wakes up in the morning. Sometimes it’s just him telling her something that happened to him during the day, or a funny story, and sometimes he sings. She wishes she could drop an album just to feature him on it. She wants the entire world to know that he’s hers and she’s his and she is so incredibly in love. 

It’s scary going from such a low to such a high. The extreme contrast is intimidating at times but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She learned what she wanted in a relationship from an extremely difficult situation and somehow it was all worth it as long as she got to have him in her life. 

They’re together for a year before it gets out. They chose to be private about their relationship, it’s easy when he’s halfway across the world most of the time. That doesn’t stop her from spending every single moment that she isn’t on tour or in the studio next to him in Spain, Italy, France. She loves him. She would do anything for him. She knew that he was the one three weeks into their relationship and when she told him and he told her he felt the same, it confirmed it.

It’s her fault it gets out, he said it was about time and he wasn’t mad about it at all. 

Sometimes she still finds that deep-seated anger she holds for Rafe bubbling over. It’s all-consuming and she can’t stop the venom that leaves her body.

When Rafe’s engagement gets out, she and Julio step out on a date night. Cleo calls the paparazzi for her. It’s a great plan until everyone is freaking out because they’re convinced she and Rafe were dating this entire time.

She loves her fans but sometimes the theories and threads get a little too much. Mostly because they’re correct most of the time. 

At first, she was scared of Julio seeing all those things and seeing how everyone wanted her and Rafe to get married. She was scared he was going to run away. It never seemed to faze him. He never not once doubted her. He understands how people get and believes her when she tells him she chooses him for the rest of forever.

+++

Topper’s words haunt him. He wants to apologize to her and give her and himself some form of closure. He doesn’t know how to approach it. They haven’t talked in years, not really. How does he talk to the person that he hurt so much?

He catches her after soundcheck one day, his wringing his hands together, riddled with anxiety. 

“Hey, Y/N?” He calls out after her as she passes him.

She slowly turns around and crosses her arms, raising her eyebrows at him in surprise. 

“What can I do for you?”

He gulps as she looks at him expectantly.

“I was wondering if you had listened to the album?” What? Why the hell did he open with that?

“Why would I listen to the album?” She asks incredulously 

“Well, because I mean it’s about,” he stumbles over his words, “I just wish you would listen to it and maybe hear me out.”

“You want me to listen to your album so that I can hear you?” She nods her head and puckers her lips. 

 “It’s so stupid that after all these years you can’t apologize to my face so you what? Make an album? Is your apology hidden in there somewhere?” 

“Yes-No, I just think that if you gave it a chance, we could talk about it.”

“You want me to pretend to give a shit about your album when you can’t tell me how you feel right now in person?” She’s laughing a little now. Shocked at his suggestion. He wants the ground to swallow him whole.

“Please, can you just listen?” 

“No Rafe. I am so done with this. I have been done with this. I don’t care about your album, I don't care about you.” Her words hit him like knives in his heart.

“Why do you care about my opinion about your album? Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I don’t know that your album is about me? You called it Angel, Rafe! The fucking nickname that you gave me when we were 12 years old! I’m not some dumb girl who you can just manipulate and get whatever you want out of her. Not anymore. I am not that person for you.” She stops, her hands coming down from where she was waving them. He wants to say something but his mouth is dry and he has a ball the size of a grapefruit stuck in his throat.

“You made it incredibly clear to me that you don’t think of me as a person. Like- what did you say to me? That I’m just a fuck?” He grimaces when she throws his words from three years ago back at him. 

“Yeah, you said I’m just some girl you fuck, ‘you’re just some girl I fuck I don’t care about you.’ Sound about right?” He can’t move. He’s frozen.

“You could have worded it a million different ways and still gotten your message across. You could have been so much nicer. Let me down easy. Let me know in a better way that you found someone that you wanted to get to know. I would’ve put everything aside and just been your friend but no, you decided that I meant nothing to you, that everything we had been through, everything we had built, Our friendship was not important to you.”

 “Because I’m just someone you fucked. So, Don’t worry about me, don’t worry about my opinion because you’re just someone I fucked too and someone that I no longer care about. You are just my bandmate. You are just a coworker, I don’t think of you. I’m done with you. Keep your album. Good luck.”

He was so fucked. It would be a miracle if he ever got her to forgive him.

[ivymarquis]

A Little Death

Pairing| Ghost x F!Reader Rating| M Word Count| 7k Kinks/Content/Warnings| The author has decided she can't be assed to edit this, Chubby!Reader, Kidnapping, nondescript mentions of torture. Ambiguous mentions of S/A (vague enough you can chose to ignore that part if you want tbh), Reader is traumatized from her ordeal but working through it. Fingering, PiV, riding, squirting, Simon has a moment where he's worried he triggered reader after sex but that is an incorrect assumption on his part.

On days like this Simon can almost pretend he’s normal. 

The game’s on, a beer in one hand while the other has been commandeered by his girlfriend with a simple “Gimmie.”

Simon has never been one to worry about his nails beyond clipping them for practicality’s sake.

Having a SAS lieutenant for a boyfriend means she deals with what she insists is Simon’s paranoia and he insists is a healthy level of suspicion about the outside world. Having a nail technician for a girlfriend means every so often she’ll commandeer his hands to ensure they’re up to her standards. As it turned out, adhering to regulations wasn’t up to par for her. 

His neighbor is a popular woman.

It sets him on edge, all the traffic. One or two people at a time, usually other women- sometimes with a man in tow, other times not. They show up, they stay for maybe an hour or maybe 4, and they leave. Within 30 minutes someone else is knocking on her door.

Normal men humor their partners about things they don’t particularly give a fuck about when left to their own devices, as an acknowledgment of its importance to them. 

And so he sits, beer in one hand as she works on the other. Once she’s finished she gathers up the towel that acts as a catch for the various clips and trimmings before making her move to switch sides, Simon easily acquiescing to her whim.

“I’m not keeping you up, am I?” She asks one night. Music plays lowly from a laptop on her patio as he steps onto his for a smoke break. Just because he’s got his vice doesn’t mean he wants the whole flat smelling like it.

“Don’t sleep much anyway, pet. Bit of music won’t change that one way or another.”

Despite his insistence that he’s merely humoring her, he soaks up the attention she readily gives him. When she’s done and tidied after herself she returns with a small bottle of lotion.

He’s got one arm wrapped around her shoulders, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of her head as she massages his hand. If he plays his cards right tonight he can probably get her to soothe some of the aches and stiff muscles that always plague him. For now he melts as she seems to know exactly what points to hit in his palm and forearm. 

It’s domestic and normal and Simon can almost ignore the burner phone he keeps on him at all times.

It goes off at 5am on a Sunday, Simon already awake and having been watching the ceiling fan since 4:30. He can’t fall back asleep but can’t bring himself to separate from her. 

She burrows further into his chest as his shifting disrupts her. He’s fairly certain she would crawl inside his ribcage if she could, curl up right next to his heart and never leave. 

Simon would gladly let her. 

She’s a nail technician, he comes to learn. Sure as shit, he eventually memorizes the traffic that comes and goes on a roughly two week interval. Some of them are steadfast in their appointments. 2 o clock every other Thursday. 4 o clock every other Friday. Others not so much- they come around frequently but the days and times are random after the 14 day mark. 

The familiarity of some of the faces takes him slightly less on edge. He will never relax, not truly, but it settles him down now that he knows the pattern. 

It also explains why her hands have two completely different designs on each one. Color, pattern, the shape of the nails. Her left and right hand look like they belong to two different people. 

Simon doesn’t use social media, for obvious reasons. His little neighbor has formed an entire career for herself based off of it. 

But the phone buzzes on the nightstand, an omniscient presence that always hovers heavy in the air.

“Price?” Is all he gives for a greeting. Trying to keep his words short and concise. He doesn’t want to wake her, still under the lull she draws him into without trying. 

He keeps his work and his personal life separate with no intention of ever melding the two. 

“Laswell’s got intel. We meet in 2 days, back on base at 06:00.”

He is about to respond, both an acknowledgment and a hopeful end to the conversation, when she stretches next to him with a groan of protest at being awoken so early. 

“Tell your other girlfriend I said hi,” she grumbles, already knowing it’s Price on the phone and that the clock is officially counting down on the time they have left together. 

“You know at a certain point I'm going to just decide you’ve got a whole secret life with a wife and kids and a picket fence.”

He doesn’t want his work to ever follow him home. Not to her. He keeps them strictly separate. She knows he’s military- specifically SAS- and that he works in counter terrorism and that’s about all he’s willing to tell. She doesn’t need to know details. And more importantly the details don’t ever need to know about her. 

His past missions have haunted him in the worst way possible. He’s finally rebuilt something for himself as the ghost of a dead man, and doesn’t want anything to ever tarnish what he’s found. 

He can’t entirely blame her. It takes a leap of faith to accept the little he offers her. What does he have? A dead man’s name and most likely a violent end waiting for him. 

Eventually he does offer a small peace offering. Price is enough to settle the concerns that she hides as jokes. Provides enough credibility that she can let go of the concern that he’s living a double life.

Well, he is. But not the kind that nags at her. 

Price knows her; Gaz and Soap know that he’s got someone waiting for him at home, but Simon is already at his limit of how much intermingling he can handle. They’re both compromising, both making allowances for their comfort levels for the sake of the other. But he has to draw the line somewhere. 

If Simon had his way Gaz and Soap would be none the wiser, but a night of frantic coupling before he’d left had Simon bearing marks that are incredibly obvious in the changing room. 

“Steamin’ Jesus L.T.! You get jumped by a wildcat?” The chortle from the Scot makes it obvious that Johnny is yet again not afraid to push Simon’s buttons. 

There’s no denying what they are, nor how he got them. Neither Soap nor Gaz are stupid. 

Long, red scratch marks criss cross the broad expanse of his scarred back. He certainly hadn’t complained when his lovely girl had left her mark on him- those nails dragging across his skin had only encouraged him as his hips clapped wetly against hers, hands gripping her knees as he pressed them to her shoulders.

Most nights he is soft and gentle and strokes her skin while his lips press either in her hair or the soft expanse of her neck. He doesn’t roughhouse her tonight, but the knowledge he’ll be gone for weeks and tonight is their last together for the foreseeable future?

Well, the pair of them are a bit amped about the impending separation. It’s a good thing neither of them are particularly known for their good sleeping habits, because there’s not a lot of that usually happening on the nights before Simon leaves. 

Leaving without waking her up is an impossible task but he tries anyway.

Whereas Simon finds sleep difficult to achieve and eventually sleeps like the dead once he finds it, she drifts readily enough but will wake at the drop of a hat.

Usually she’ll settle soon after. Eyes following his form in the dark, waiting expectantly for him to come back after he dresses to kiss her goodbye. 

They carve out a routine for themselves. One for when Simon is home, and one for when he’s preparing to walk out the door until eventually coming back through it.

His therapist is equal parts shocked and pleased to hear that Simon is taking the leap and opening himself up emotionally to someone. 

His therapist is less pleased about the way he simply buries himself in her life when he’s on leave.

Simon is nothing- has nothing- when he is not acting in the line of duty. He is a dead man with nothing to his name and no one who gives a fuck if he ever walks back through the door that isn’t tied to his military career. 

He thrives on the stability and schedule on base. On the simplicity of nights spent out on the field. Wake up, piss, dont die, go to sleep. Wake up, repeat. 

Some days the only thing keeping him from trying to end it all (again, he bitterly acknowledges) when he’s gotten too far into a bottle of bourbon is his therapist and the thought of his team’s face at the news. 

Until, at least, he meets her. 

The mission is brief but successful. Simon is pleased. 

The deepest of the scratch marks has just finished healing and he’s already missing the sensation of her nails dragging against his skin- and he’s not picky about the context, either. 

There have been plenty of nights he’s fallen asleep with his face buried in her chest with one of her hands scratching gently at his scalp and the other tracing in broad strokes across his back.

Of course those nails also feel divine scratching at his abdomen while she is on her knees for him.

There’s a process he goes through when he gets home. It lets him shed the mantle of Ghost- to calm down as much as he’s able and be better equipped to deal with civilian life. Helps him give her the illusion that she is with a normal man who’s not holding onto himself with a death grip, desperately trying to keep the pieces together.

He feels fine when he leaves base and heads home. Everything is normal. 

Until he turns the corner and sees the door ajar.

Fear runs ice cold in his veins, hackles raised and on guard. 

I’m just being paranoid, he tries to self soothe as he steps towards the door. She tells me all the time.

Course, it was one thing when he gripes about how she answers the door without looking to see who it is. She doesn’t leave the fucking door open.

“Wish you’d at least look at the peep hole before just opening the bloody door,” he grouses into her hair, pulling her in so she’s tucked up to his side. 

“If I’m expecting someone to come at 3 and there’s a knock at 3, I already know who it is, Si.”

There are times when he is grateful that she has, by comparison, lived a life where she thinks he is paranoid and needlessly worries. She hasn’t had the experiences he has, and he doesn’t wish that upon her. He’s grateful with the knowledge that every time he’s sent out, thus far, that she’s been tucked away safe and sound until he returns. 

But of course the other shoe was always going to drop eventually. 

“Price?” Simon doesn’t know who else to call. 

He’s standing in the middle of his flat, evidence of an altercation scattered around the living room. 

She put up a fight if the state of the flat is anything to go by. He wants to be proud of that at least, use it as hope-

He just feels hollow. 

A group the 141 has dealt with prior are the ones all the signs point to. They wanted the team’s attention and by God they fucking got it. 

Simon doesn’t understand how they found she has any ties to him. He’s so careful- keeps her tucked away and hidden from any potential cross over with his work.

The next few days are a blur and Simon’s mental health has seen better days. 

He resigns himself, even when Laswell gets a hit and the 141 are loaded into a helo, to the fact that at best this will be a body retrieval mission. 

Even as Soap gives a reassuring knock into his shoulder- we’ll get her back, LT- as confident as ever. 

His sweet girl is dead, just like every other person Simon has ever cared about. 

He doesn’t understand what he’s done to deserve losing them all. The only ones he has left are his team, and that’s a tenuous state at best. His family was good. They were normal people with normal lives. She is good and a normal person. 

Her only sin is being foolish enough to love him. 

Some time between getting on the bird and offloading, Simon forces the thoughts in a corner and blocks them off. 

Simon, the terrified boyfriend, gives way to Ghost so he can get through this in one piece. He just wants to find her, bring her home and bury her body. He’s numb to anything beyond the scope of the plan he’s formed in his mind. 

It’s laughably easy. A fringe group the 141 has had altercations with- she’s not exactly a high profile prisoner. They just wanted to fuck with Simon.

There’s no satisfaction or vindication as they clear the building floor by floor. 

He feels nothing.

The further they venture into the building with no sign of her, the pit in his stomach sinks just as far. There’s no sign of anything concrete or anywhere they’d keep a prisoner. 

And then there, in a corner of a hallway, Ghost spots it-

An acrylic nail lying broken on the ground, dried blood clotted on the tips. 

For the first time in days, Simon feels something. 

It’s not hope. He doesn’t dare hope. 

But it’s confirmation that she has, at some point, been in the building. 

It’s also confirmation that she gave it a fighting chance. 

She’s a civilian- nothing much she can do against professional criminals. But she tried and Simon has to find something in that.

They split into pairs down a hallway clearing rooms. Every door that opens only to not have her in it is like a knife that keeps twisting in his abdomen. 

Just let him have this one thing. 

It’s just as Ghost and Soap have called out clear on another room that he hears Price’s voice call to him down the hall. 

There’s only one reason Price would be calling for him specifically.

As he approaches he can hear the captain again, softer this time. Can’t make out what he’s saying but everything feels slow; like he’s moving under water. 

As his mind prepares him for every horrific potential image waiting for him beyond the threshold of the door- there’s nothing that prepares him for what he sees. 

She’s alive. 

Wide eyed and panicked, which is to be expected all things considered, but she’s here and she’s breathing.

Simon forgets himself entirely. He swings wildly from feeling nothing to feeling everything and it bubbles up all at once as he barrels towards her. 

He forgets that while she knows Simon is SAS she knows nothing of Ghost. Simon works in counter terrorism, yes, but she knows nothing about the mask.

So after being kidnapped and going through God-knows-what in her absence, she’s got no fucking clue the 6’4 fucker with the skull mask gunning for her is her boyfriend. 

The sharp, croaked “Stay the fuck away from me!” doesn’t cut but it does jog his memory enough to know she’s absolutely terrified.

Again there’s that part of him that is proud of her. After everything she’s been through even if she wouldn’t stand a chance in an actual altercation- She’s not huddled in the corner. She looks willing to fight him, until Simon rips the mask off his face. “It’s me, love! It’s me.”

“Simon? What the fuck is that?!”

Rather than scrambling to get away she turns to launch herself at him, a tangle of limbs as they cling to each other and reassure themselves that yes this is real and yes the other is there. That this fucking nightmare is over.

Simon buries his nose in her hair- was so certain he’d be bringing her home in a body bag he almost doesn’t know what to do with himself. She’s shaking in his grip, sobs ripping through her as he shushes her gently and murmurs “It’s alright, love. I’ve got you now.”

“As much as I love a good reunion- we need to get going, Ghost.” Price is ever the voice of reason, because Simon’s head is not in the game right now. 

He wants to cling to her and never let her go- he needs to pull his head out of his ass. 

Price isn’t wrong. As much as he has to fight off the impulse to tuck her against his side and keep her there, they have shit to do. 

He won’t truly be able to relax until she’s safely stowed on the helo and they’re on their way back.

It’s a bit easier once he puts the mask on. His brain is trained to focus on work and not let his personal life muddy the waters. Where Simon can’t help but falter, Ghost is dauntless. 

Simon can barely string a thought together now that he has her back in his arms. Simon still cannot believe she’s alive and breathing even after touching, smelling and hearing her. 

But Ghost can focus on getting her to the helo. 

Everything is a blur as Price and Gaz lead with Soap bringing up the rear. 

Ghost can’t quite decide where he wants her- keeps alternating between keeping her behind him in the event they get blindsided, that he’ll take any hits that go past Price or Gaz, or getting her in front of him so he can keep an eye on her, and there’s two SAS soldiers in front of her and two behind.

The hostiles in the building wanted the 141’s attention. Mission fucking accomplished.

The ones they chance across are dropped with ease. Simon is no stranger to returning to a location and making his point. Right now he’s got bigger concerns to be worried about. 

A knot of anxiety lodges itself on his ribcage as they move through the building that doesn’t unwind until he’s got her strapped to her seat in the helo. 

For the first time in days he can breathe. The knot slowly untangles as they ascend.

It finally settles in for both of them that she is out and she is safe. She’s been quiet the whole trek to the helo but Price, Soap, and Gaz have been on enough hostage recovery missions to not be caught off guard as she bursts into tears and buries her face in Ghost’s vest. 

It’s finally safe for her to do so, the adrenaline wearing off as she sobs. 

For the most part the other three men try to avert their eyes and not intrude.

Simon’s always been reserved about his life off base and watching him soothe his partner is bordering too personal for the others to witness.

It comes and goes in waves; Simon will settle her down, crooning quietly in her ear too low for the others to hear. She’ll stifle her tears for a bit as he soothes her. They go straight to medical after landing to have her looked at. She starts up again while waiting for the nurse to come back, trying to apologize to Simon through choked sobs. 

He won’t hear it, softly but firmly brushing her apologies to the side and assuring her everything’s fine now, love. No need to apologize.

He feels physically ill when the nurse delicately asks if she needs a rape kit or screenings done.

The rest of the 141 gives them a wide berth- which is a marked accomplishment because all too often Soap and Gaz are trailing behind him and finding some sort of shenanigans to get up to. Simon is perfectly content with the arrangement. He wants to focus his attention on her and that’s easier to do without the sergeants under foot.

His room on base is much like his entire apartment was before she moved in.

It’s 3am, Simon needs to take a piss and as he’s doing so, he’s not-quite eye level with a sign that says

“★★★★★ -

Would poop here again”

He’s got no idea when or where she found that, let alone put it up, but rolls his eyes good naturedly as he tucks himself away.

Normal people have bathroom decor.

Simon can appreciate a bit or a joke as much as the next person- but while this space is his it’s not something he’s ever felt the need to decorate. It’s a bed for him to crash on in between missions or if he’s too bloody exhausted to safely make the trek home.

There’s only one piece of any sort of personal touch to the room- a framed photo of her.

Simon intends to see her through the next few days- they’ll head home in the morning and realistically there’s only so long John can hold off on calling the boys in again. But the captain says he’ll do what he can to keep Simon home while they settle back in. He’s been due for some leave anyway.

He doesn’t sleep the first night. She swings drastically between being knocked out and jolting awake screaming and crying. Even once she’s gotten over the initial shock of her rescue it still takes time for her nervous system to calm down.

“I’ve got you, love- you’re safe here” he murmurs into her ear as she trembles like a leaf. “We’ll be home soon, yeah? You’ll feel better once you’re in our bed.”

The question is twofold- it is to soothe her, and also to gauge her reaction to the prospect of going home. Simon won’t hesitate to set the flat ablaze if it makes her feel better. 

Start fresh.

For now she seems to sleep better if he’s got her pinned up against the wall- the bulk of him a physical barrier to anything that might enter the room.

He’s always slept between her and the door so that’s no hardship- it just takes time to realize she feels safer trapped between him and the wall.

They make it through the first night in one piece, although the next morning she will not stop chewing on her nails. With someone else, he wouldn’t necessarily be surprised- but she’s never been a nail biter.

It dawns on him, as she sits on the couch and bursts into tears, that she wants the nails (or at least the ones that survived the ordeal) off, and is winding herself up too much to take them off the way she knows she should.

Simon goes to her office; he’s watched her enough that he knows the steps and the materials she’ll need, gathering them up before coaxing her to the table.

There’s no interest in redoing them but Simon manages to get the current sets off of her so she doesn’t damage her nail beds- assuming she stops chewing on them (which she does).

Over the next few days he lets her set the pace. She’s jumpy at home and calmer when he takes her out to run errands or just to stretch their legs. 

Maybe he will propose moving sooner rather than later. Their building is a shithole anyway.

He puts her in therapy after a week. It’s the only time he’s away from her. Realistically he knows it’s not good to have her so used to always being within arms length or eyesight of him- it’s not sustainable when eventually he will be called back in. But he has no qualms for the coddling he subjects her to while he’s able to. She’s quiet and comfortable with his hovering in a way she’d never tolerate before she was abducted- he figures he’ll know when she’s feeling a bit like herself again when she starts complaining about him not giving her any space.

Knowing she’s got the therapist gives him some security on how she’ll mentally cope when eventually he needs to leave again.

Her bursting into tears occurs less frequently. If Simon has to pry himself away from her to take a piss in the middle of the night she’s not up, back ramrod straight and waiting for him to come back with wet, teary eyes.

As the days tick on, bleeding into months later, Simon idly acknowledges that-short of when he’s on deployment- this is the longest they’ve gone without having sex. There’s nothing else that goes with that acknowledgement- he’s far more concerned with her well being than he is getting his kicks. He’s just taking stock of all their ‘normals’ and prior to her abduction they’d had quite the active sex life.

It’s one day as they’re watching a movie that it’s apparent Simon isn’t the only one aware of their dry spell.

They’re laying on the couch, her back pressed against his front with one of his heavy arms draped across her rib cage to keep her snuggled up against him as they watch the screen in front.

At first he thinks that she’s repositioning- thinks nothing of it and lifts his arm just enough to allow her the freedom to wiggle to a more comfortable spot. She keeps wiggling though and Simon is trying to keep his mind off the sensation of her arse grinding into his groin. Trying to ignore the way his dick twitches in interest, because- God help him- he's not dead and the love of his life is grinding her arse on him. Bodies are going to do what bodies do, and he can feel himself stiffening in response.

“Sweetheart, you need to sit still,” he whispers the plea into her ear. 

Her head tilts back towards him and lust jolts through his body at the look in her eyes while she still continues to grind against him.

“I miss you, Simon,” and given how he is rarely further than grabbing distance from her, there’s very few other ways to interpret what exactly it is that she is missing.

He’s a goner when she gives him that wide, doe eyed expression paired with the prettiest “Please?” he’s ever heard in his life.

One moment they’re quiet and content laying on their sides on the couch- the next Simon’s gripping her arm and pulling her on top of him as he settles onto his back. She follows his lead and moves so her weight is settled on his hips as his hands grip hers.

It is no hardship on his end to wait for her- the patience never truly even registered in his brain. She can have as much time as she needs and Simon will give it to her gladly.

But his pretty girl batting her eyes at him and pleading softly for him? His patience isn’t the only thing he’s willing to give her.

“Are you sure?” He doesn’t mean to second guess her or make her question herself but he does want to make sure that she’s not acting on obligation.

“Yes, Simon- Please,” and who is he to deny her?

His hands are on her immediately- pulling her towards him and encouraging her to grind, knowing her sweet clit will light up at the friction of her soft panties dragging across the rough material of his jeans.

His lips find hers, separating only briefly as he hauls her dress up and over her head, happily discarding the material in a heap on the floor.

His hands grip her hips, Simon relaxing into the couch while his fingers dug into the pillow soft skin perching above him. He’s straining against the fabric of his jeans- knows the tip of his erection is leaking clear pre and it’s not just going to be her being the reason the fabric has a wet spot.

The couch is certainly not the worst place to be, his beautiful girlfriend’s tits in his face as she grinds down in his lap with little hitching breaths.

“Just like that, pretty,” he encourages, kissing down her jawbone, the length of her neck and across her collar bone before happily mouthing at her breasts which are blessedly right in his face.

Simon groans in pleasure as he teases one nipple, her sweet mewls and the grip on his hair only spurring him on.

Grabbing a handful of her plush arse, he groans in anticipation while switching from one breast to the other.

It’s been a fair while since his back has been shredded by her nails and he can’t wait to feel the bite of them dragging down the length of his spine.

“Lift up, sweetheart,” he instructs, somewhat loath to release her plump bottom but eager to get her dripping for him.

She pulls up enough for him to slip one hand between her legs. Exploring fingers are quick to spread her wetness, dipping between her folds and dragging back up to circle her clit softly.

“Fuck- Simon!” she whines in his ear.

He knows enough by now what makes her tick. Once she’s all warmed up and ready to roll, that sweet cunt of hers could take a thrashing. But warming up involves feather-light touches to get her squirming and squealing for him.

“Feels good, pretty?” he asks despite knowing the answer in the way her arms wrap around his neck and she sags against him, hips twitching as she lets him tease her.

“Ye-yeah,” she murmurs, and presses her lips against his neck as he takes another pass- finger pulling away from her clit just to draw shivers from her as he traces back down her folds and presses ever so lightly against the entrance on her- just to the first knuckle- and making his way back to tease her clit.

Each pass has her rocking her hips more as he slips more of his finger inside, eventually adding a second that has her mewling and squirming in his lap.

He’s going to have one hell of a hickey from how she’s sucking on his neck, but Simon can’t bring himself to care. Not when his ears are graced with the delightful little noises she makes- whimpers of protest as he pulls his fingers out of her, the shaky inhales as he circles her clit and the trembling moan when he once again slides his fingers inside of her to give a few pointed strokes to her g-spot just to get her shivering and blinking up at him with lust-blown eyes.

“Fuck you’re wet,” there’s absolutely zero resistance now, even when he slides a third finger inside her. 

“Please,” she mewls into his skin, hips rocking in time with the thrust of his fingers into her.

“What do you want, sweetheart? Use your words.” He’s always found her an absolute delight to tease- she gets so flustered and stares at him with that doe eyed, betrayed look- how dare he make her ask for anything when it’s obvious what she wants.

“Please let me cum,” she pants as her eyes screw up in pleasure while his fingers trace and circle her clit for several passes.

“You wanna cum, love?” His tone is just a bit too soft to be a mocking tease despite the way she glares at him. Spoiled little thing so easily sliding back into her old habits.

“I’m going to bite you,” she grumbles in bemused annoyance, brows furrowing as she tries to follow his hand while teasing her.

He doesn’t doubt his little viper for a second, mollifying her displeasure with three fingers digging for that spot that makes her see stars.

“Oh~,” she mewls against him as he stokes the fires of her orgasm with a vengeance. He doesn’t stop, angling his hand so his thumb can stroke against her clit and enjoying the way she trembles against him like a leaf caught in a windstorm.

“That the spot, hm? Right there, innit?” He rumbles low in her ear, a satisfied smirk on his face as she nods in a big sweeping motion against his neck. “Come on, pretty. You wanna cum so badly? Do it.” he baits.

Mission accomplished.

Fuck he’ll remember the vision of her crying and cumming and trembling in his hold, soaking his forearm and abdomen as she squirts, for the rest of his days. His free hand runs soothingly down her back for a few passes before pulling both hands away from her.

She’s immediately whining against him, upset at having his touch taken away. “Simon, please-”

He shushes her with a kiss to her temple, “I know what you need, sweetheart,” he murmurs while deftly undoing his pants and freeing his cock.

It only takes a few strokes, already straining and ready to perform, before they’re shuffling as he pulls and maneuvers her so she’s hovering above him and Oh fuck has Simon missed this as she sinks down on him.

It always takes a couple attempts- he’s not a small man, and doesn’t want to risk injury. Not to mention there’s just something fucking delicious about only giving her a few inches, pulling back and feeding her just a few more. Slow, short, steady thrusts that get deeper bit by bit, having Simon ready to melt into the couch at the bliss of being buried in her by the time she sinks all of her weight onto him, her groin pressing against his.

She’s so fucking warm and wet, clinging to him as she shuffles to get good leverage on top of him to bounce.

Bloody fucking hell does she feel good. “That’s it, pretty. Take it all,” he encourages her while she whimpers above him- if he angles himself just right he can grind her clit against him in a way that has her sucking down air and shivering.

She’s so good for him but he knows there’s only so long she can bounce in his lap- even resting on one knee on the couch and her other foot on the floor so she can shift her weight and give leg a break every now and then, Simon throwing his head back and groaning loudly.

It’s one of the only times he’s particularly verbose- Usually content to be silent and broody unless he has a specific question in mind, the bedroom (or in this case the living room) is the one place where he is a chatterbox. The mouth on him is surreal at times, and while one would think his sweet girl would be use to the filth every now and then he’ll catch her off guard with some particularly out of pocket comment.

For now though, he’s a bit reserved- doesn’t want to go from zero to a hundred out of nowhere.

No, for now his attention is focused on the goddess bouncing on his cock, wondering if he can get her to squirt a second time if he just- he shifts underneath her, changing the angle and fucking hell does that seem to do the trick for her. Swiping one of his thumbs across his tongue before pressing it to her clit and circling again, Simon can’t help the smug look on his face when she squeals. “Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck,” he grunts as he thrusts up into her. From how those pretty thighs are trembling, her legs are about to give out as he fucks into her. 

“Simon!” She’s yelping his name with glassy eyes and a clenching cunt “Fuck- Simon! Please-”

She doesn’t have the energy to get herself back up again- poor thing, her thighs must be burning, and he can’t help but be a cocky fuck about the fact that she loves riding his dick to the point that she physically can’t keep going.

“On your back, sweetheart,” he instructs with a light swat to her ass- appreciating the way her body jiggles at the impact.

His sweet girl has done so well and worked so hard, it’s only right that he rewards her. Once she’s on her back he grips her under her knees and folds her legs back- gives himself room between those gorgeous thighs.

“Fuck, baby- please don’t stop,” she pants underneath him, back arching in pleasure as his mouth drops to her breasts again. Her arms wrap loosely around his neck, and he twitches in anticipation at the feel of her nails tracing ever so lightly against his back.

“Not gonna stop, pretty girl.” he groans against her skin, alternating between which nipple he has between his teeth.

Fuck she’s clenching down on him like a vice. He knows she’s getting close; squirming in his grip, keeping her legs nice and spread for him. The feel of her nails reaching down his back and dragging up his spine pulls a groan that would be embarrassing if Simon could find it within himself to care in the slightest. The slight pain encourages him as he cants against her.

“Simon!” The sound of his hips knocking into the back of her thighs is loud and messy. Fuck he’s such a goner when she looks up at him with that sweet expression on her face- pure adoration and wonder in her eyes.

“Just like that, sweetheart. Fucking hell, love,” he grunts out, a second wind reinvigorating him when she starts shaking. Those plush thighs shaking in his hold as he knocks the sense out of her pretty head, he’s so fucking close he can taste it but is determined to get her across the finish line first.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he purrs in her ear, “You feel fucking perfect taking my cock. This wet cunt’s all mine, innit?”

All she can do is chant “Yes! Yes! Yes!” over and over again- Simon’s not sure if even she is certain if she’s repeating the word to answer him, or if she’s just babbling because he’s making her feel good and she’s getting close.

“You gonna cum again love? Gonna soak me, hm?” He’s just running his mouth now- knows the shit she likes to hear, reaffirmed by the way she’s shivering in his hold and crying for it with a glassy eyed gaze.

Whatever she is going to respond with is cut off with a squeal. Simon rears back, enjoying the show as she makes a mess all over his cock with her eyes rolled back. He lets go of one of her legs in favor of teasing her clit just shy of overstimulation to prolong her orgasm- she lets him for a time before her hands abandon shredding his back in favor of wrapping around his wrist in a plea for mercy. 

“Simon it’s too much,” she laments with teary eyes as he pulls his hand away with a chuckle and a chaste kiss. 

He stays curled over her, hips driving into hers. “Tell me where you want it,” he instructs.

“Inside! Please, I want it inside!” Her answer is sharp and immediate, the leg not pinned to her chest wrapping around his waist like she is daring him to even try to pull out.

And fuck there is something cathartic about his orgasm when it hits. Burying his face in her soft body while his hips snapped into hers a few times, Simon groans as his vision damn near whites out for a second.

Simon knows better than most that there’s good days and bad days- and a presumed good day can become a bad day quicker than one can blink. But overall he feels like consistently she’s doing better all around. They take their time calming down, Simon showering her in attention and getting a feel for where her head is at. Praising her for how well she did and making sure she feels stable.

He lets out a breath, feeling confident that she’s settled, having a good day, and everything is fine for now. 

And it is. Until about two hours later.

One moment they’re finishing the movie they’d initially started before the impromptu romp on the couch, and then Simon has a 3 second warning of her sniffling as she obviously tries to fight back the tears and then she’s sobbing harder than she has in weeks.

Simon goes from content to concerned in a second, his blood turning to ice in his veins. His immediate assumption is that their prior activities finally caught up with her mentally and now that she’s had time to think it over it wasn’t good. It was too fucking soon to have sex. He should have told her no, should have been gentler, should have-

“Sweetheart? Talk to me,” his voice is tinged with a thinly controlled concern (not panic he convinces himself) and while he means to comfort her, she can hear his tone and that just sets her off anew.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she blubbers, turning to face him. “I don’t know why I’m crying!”

That settles Simon’s nerves somewhat, stroking her back and pulling her close to comfort her. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” he soothes her, listening to her sniffle against his shirt after shoving her into the crook of his neck.

“I just want to feel normal again,” she sobs into his collar.

“You will, love,” he assures her- never mind that ‘normal’ is something that even he struggles with on a near daily basis. “It’ll take time but you’ll get there. I promise.”

He’s a bastard for making a promise to her that he can’t guarantee to keep. There’s a part of him that knows that- hell, he’s been working on his shit for years and he still doesn’t feel normal most days.

But while he can’t promise that she’ll ever get back to feeling exactly the same as she did before all of this happened, he can promise that he’ll be by her side and ensure she’s adjusting. It will take time, and work, but Simon will make sure she gets there one step at a time.

[pinktrashgoblin]

SERIOUS POST.

This may have some uncomfortable topics. But please read this whole thing. It’s important to be transparent, and I don’t want Cin to spread more shit.

my deepest apologies to people who are just here on my blog and reblogging my work for fun.

EDIT: I can’t believe I have to say this but don’t fucking harass anyone mentioned in this post. That just reflects on YOU.

Alright, Cin. Since you want a response so bad, here ya go.

So what is this whole thing about?

User @/cintagonisupset is going around telling people this.

I’m already seeing the impacts, having my friends come to me about this. You’ve got my hands tied, so I’m making my statement.

First and foremost: I‘m not going to pretend that I didn’t make dirty jokes in my server in the past, before my birthday when I was 17, a minor myself, and before I banned such jokes last year. With 100% earnest I know this was a bad idea, and I have taken the time to be more careful about what I say around certain audiences. I am not perfect. But in his haste to fuck me up, he left out some crucial details.

1: I was 17 at the time, a minor myself, and was and still am in high school. I was a high schooler, making high-school-tier jokes in a server of other high schoolers. I am not ACTIVELY MAKING THESE JOKES like he says I am, and I do not condone the idea of doing so.

2: I am autistic. I struggle with social cues, with decision-making and so forth. I am only recently 18, but that does not mean I am mentally or emotionally mature, far from it. Mentally I am still a child. I struggle more than the average person with judgement, and often slip up around those I let my guard down around. I am working on this to avoid things such as this.

3: I am incredibly susceptible to peer pressure. In a place where those jokes were made, I wanted to feel like part of the group. So, as I often do, I mirrored behavior to feel like I fit in. I wasn’t sitting my high-school ass down and going “Let’s make raunchy jokes with kids!”, I was thinking in terms of “Maybe if I talk like them, they’ll like me and I’ll fit in somewhere” without fully realizing what everything meant, and without being able to properly process the social queues associated.

4: This was MONTHS ago. I do not actively do these things, nor condone them, I think it’s fucked up and I’ve done everything I can to be better than that. But to misrepresent the situation as me actively doing so isn’t great either.

So with that out of the way.

Do I think it was a good idea? No, absolutely not, but let’s not pretend that this is unheard of in high school and definitely on the internet. Since the dawn of time kids have made stupid jokes with one another. I was a middle schooler once and a high schooler now, I know exactly what goes on in those places. Let me restate: that doesn’t make it good, but let’s not pretend I’m the only high school kid who’s ever made a joke like that around their peers.

My point is, once this thing has become so normalized all over the place, in school, in media, it becomes difficult, especially for a neurodivergent such as myself, to deduce what to and not to do. I have fundamental principles and rules, but that does not mean I am not susceptible to being pressured into this sort of thing.

As I mentioned: I am not emotionally, or mentally, mature. I don’t know everything. I don’t fully comprehend the nuances of things. I am not always aware of what I am saying. I cannot understand social queues in the same way you do.

Make your conclusions as you will, but this is my stance, and this is the truth.

Also, maybe don’t tell people to kill themselves and that nobody likes them? Just a thought. (BTW: As mentioned I am autistic, it’s not as simple as “grow up”.)

TL;DR: I made raunchy/dirty jokes in my server when I was 17, in high school, with a bunch of other high schoolers, and Cin is telling me to end my life because of it.

Please consider my words. I have worked hard to build what I have, and feel it is important to be transparent. I want nothing but to make a positive impact on this community and the people within it. This does not mean I am perfect, but I am trying my best and my intentions are good.

Feel free to ask me, or leave opinions in the reblogs and replies. This is a conversation, not a preaching.

Also, about the art thief thing: I genuinely have no fuckin clue what he’s going on about there.

Edit: I have deleted the “P.S.” section regarding a suspicion I have to avoid further conflict.

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 36)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (34)

Masterlist (other parts here)

YFN enjoyed her morning and flight back, still trying to comprehend what was happening. She’d wished she had time to go through Edinburgh itself but had been swamped all morning with emails relating to the expansion of staff. Lumos management were also a lot more vocal with her now that they’d all met and decided she should be directly involved with their meetings and decisions.

Once she’d landed, she’d Ubered to her and Jordan’s house to pick up Miles and give Blu a pat before she drove to the conference room in town. She’d arrived just after midday and was delightfully pleased to see the entire team was already there with canapes just working and bantering away. She greeted them all as she entered and as she walked to her seat, she realised there were a large bunch of flowers sitting in her space. She was a little confused. Was this from Catherine? From the team for the first round? From the hotel the conference room was in? She looked around for an explanation and only received a few grins in response. She gently touched one of her flowers and leant in to smell them before taking the card out of the top.

Hi little one,

Well done on your first round of women’s football!

I’m so proud of you, always, in everything that you do.

I can’t wait to see you soon in Spain.

I love you.

Lucy x

She blushed as her heart fluttered, again finding a few of those grins, yet now they were teasing. She didn’t mind being teased for it. She was proud of her relationship with Lucy. She moved the flowers more central in the table and took her seat, setting up her laptop and notes before sending a quick photo and text to Lucy.

She knew they had a lot to cover and made sure to text Jordan, asking for a heads up when she was headed home. She wanted to be there for her. She put her phone on the table and they began. They spoke about the first round, each team member talking about their experiences and ideas. They spoke about the interviews, the posts, the equipment, all of it. When they were done, YFN made sure they were all comfortable and confident with their roles and then dropped the bombshell. They were expanding. Already. She told them how happy and ambitious management were. They’d expanded from ten including YFN to fifty. This was a shock to everyone of course, however YFN managed to ease them.

“Fifty?!” Ruby almost yelled. “How much money does this company have?!”

“The company has a lot of faith in us…and they were very impressed with the first round.”

“But that’s mainly because your interviews were amazing…” Ethan countered.

“No, we all did amazing work.” Bridget disagreed.

“Fifty sounds like a lot, but it really isn’t,” she assured. “We have six games a week. Fifty is our new number so that we can have three videographers, three photographers, one editor and one interviewer per game. That’s forty-eight people. The extras will be Noel for IT as our posting and editing becomes even more sizeable, and myself.”

They thought this was definitely a lot more reasonable when it was put like that.

“Management are throwing money into us to not only expedite the process of growth, but to make sure we’re training and preparing for the international fixtures as well,” she explained. “We won’t just be doing WSL the entire time. Plus, there are the other leagues in Europe, and the other minor leagues in the UK.”

“But the training…” Emily almost whispered.

YFN nodded, running a hand through her hair a little stressed. “Oh, trust me, I know. We need to be fully prepped and confident for our games so we make the mistakes in practise rather than onsite.”

“Prior planning prevents piss poor performance.” Sam quoted.

“Exactly and I have a plan for that. Now we’re all new here but we’ve all been in the field, we’ve researched and prepped and decided on how to best create a product that suits our brand image. It’s because of this that my plan is to have you all in supervisory roles for the new team coming in. The new hires will arrive next Tuesday which gives us time to prep with them prior to our third round. I’ll put you into game groups and you can work together to prep during the week, with this group supervising each game group and taking a bit more responsibility. Teach them what you’ve learnt. Next week is going to be a long week, but we can do it. I’ll expect progress reports also as I can’t monitor fifty people. If someone is excelling, or not quite up to scratch, I expect to be told so we can sort it out prior to our game. Also…” she looked around the conference room. “…we’ve just acquired an office space in London. I understand that not everyone will live there, and I just want to state that when we’re up and running more comfortably, the people who live further away will be able to zoom our meetings instead if they choose. In the meantime, we’ll continue with our face to face meetings, though don’t neglect yourselves. If it becomes too hard to travel; let me know. We’re going to have enough people to cover each other, it’s okay.”

The rest of the meeting was fairly better as YFN had decided they would only start to worry about the new hires later on. Right now, it was about prepping for the next games.

Their schedule set out for the upcoming week was as such:

Man United vs West Ham (Leigh Sports Village, Manchester): 12th Nov 1200 – YFN and Ruby.

Spurs vs Liverpool (Brisbane Road, London): 12th Nov 1230 – Sam and Olivia.

Everton vs Chelsea (Walton Hall Park, Liverpool): 12th Nov 1300 – Ethan and Daniel.

Man City vs Brighton (Joie Stadium, Manchester): 12th Nov 1300 – Bridget and Emily.

Bristol vs Aston Villa (Ashton Gate Stadium, Bristol): 12th Nov 1400 – Matt and Noel.

Leicester vs Arsenal (King Power Stadium, Leicester): 12th Nov 1845 – YFN and Ruby (relocate from United vs West Ham); Matt (relocate from Bristol vs Aston Villa in Bristol est arrival: 1900).

The scheduling was tight because all of the games were on the same day, and she needed to be carefully logistically to make sure she didn’t have people driving out of their way unnecessarily. Luckily, Matt lived in Birmingham and would be able to get to the Leicester vs Arsenal game for YFN to get some good interviews of the players, one she was hoping would be Kyra and Courtney.

Before she knew it, the clock had ticked over to 5pm and Jordan had messaged.

Dory: Training just finished. I’ll be home in 20.

YFN: I’m coming. I’ll get take-away for us. What would you like, Dory?

Dory: Anything I’m not supposed to eat.

YFN: You’re amazing. See you at home soon, roomie x

YFN walked through the front door, pizza in one hand and flowers tucked under the other arm, her work bag slung over her shoulder. Regardless of this, Jordan was on her from the moment she opened the door, wrapping arms around YFN’s waist. After a cute little hug, YFN spoke when she felt Jordan getting emotional.

“Okay, firstly, I love you. Secondly, we’re eating before we talk. We need to get this comfort food into you before it goes cold.”

They settled onto the couch and devoured the pizza quickly, having to snatch it away from Blu at times. Then, Jordan spoke.

“I’m so embarrassed.”

“Why? For having sex with someone you love? Someone who knows you and loves you too?”

“I guess it does sound better when you say it like that…”

“What happened? Tell me everything.”

Jordan sighed. “We dropped you off and came back home. We didn’t speak much in the car. She put her hand on my thigh, but I think it was more of a reassurance thing than a sexual thing. Then we spoke when we got home. I did exactly what you said, I sat far away so I wouldn’t be tempted by anything. She said the nicest things, YFN.” Jordan began to cry. “How much she loved me and missed me and how badly she’d screwed up. I couldn’t help myself, I cried and I couldn’t stop. I tried to hold it together. She comforted me and…” She put her hand on the back of the couch, presumably where they’d been sitting.

“Did you have sex right here?”

Jordan’s tears paused as she gave a cheeky, embarrassed smile.

“Ooookay I’m going to pretend I didn’t ask.” She reached out and brushed some of Jordan’s tears away. “Was it…bad?”

“No,” she admitted. “No, it was incredible. Probably the best sex I’ve had in my life. It was so desperate and passionate. I don’t know what happened, I missed her touch, I just melted.”

“Ah…and you cried after it?”

“No, I cried during it. It felt so good and to have her back so close to me. I missed her so much, YFN. I think after we’d been…doing it a while…the lust faded a little, and I just got scared. Scared that she made me feel so happy, made me feel so loved and then I got scared she’d leave again. I panicked and cried. She didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to do. I told her to go.”

“She tried to stay?”

“Yeah of course but I was just a mess, I needed to be alone.”

YFN hesitated. “You pushed her away before she could leave you…”

“Is that what I did?” She whispered.

“Oh Dory, come here.” YFN pulled Jordan into her lap and wrapped her arms around her, stroking her supportively. YFN and Jordan were both very, very affectionate people, especially physically.

“I don’t know if I can trust her again. I th…thought I c…could.” Her crying increased and she clung to the front of YFN’s shirt.

“Did you tell her why you wanted her to go?”

“That’s the worst part…she begged me to stay. She was on her knees at one point. On her ACL torn knee…but I couldn’t look at her. I wanted her to go. I knew she had a long drive back to London. I knew it was late. I still kicked her out.” She shook her head. “She begged me all the way out of the door to explain what was happening. I just remember telling her, “I can’t handle you leaving me again.””

YFN’s stomach dropped for Leah. She finally got close to Jordan again. Close enough for sex. For intimacy. She must have been so happy…and in a split second it was all taken away from her because of that insecurity she’d planted in Jordan with her previous mistake.

“It’s okay…it’s okay. Leah will understand, trust me. Has she messaged you?”

Jordan nodded into her. “She’s sent me multiple messages since.”

“And have your feelings changed?”

“That fear of her leaving? It’s not going away anytime soon.”

“I think she needs to win your trust back. You two made a mistake by diving into sex.”

“I know,” she whispered quietly. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“You need to let her know that if she wants you, she needs to build that trust back. She needs to know that it may take a long time but it’ll be worth it because she’ll get to have you back.”

Jordan nodded. “You’re right…”

“If I’ve learnt anything over the past few days it’s that communication is key…”

“I just need a little space.”

“Okay…look, I’ll be at the Arsenal game on Sunday in Leicester. I’ll talk to her if you want? Explain a little…”

“I think that’s for the best.”

“Okay, I think you should message her asking for your space for the moment.”

“Can you do it?”

“I think this one is best coming from you, Jords.”

 She sighed but took her phone out and texted Leah without reading the messages the other woman had sent her.

“You won’t be at the Aston Villa game this week?”

YFN shook her head. “No, I’ll be covering Untied vs West Ham and then Leicester vs Arsenal.”

“But aren’t you going to Spain?”

She ran a hand through her hair. “Yeah…I was planning on going Friday. Lucy has a game Saturday and then I’d fly back for the Sunday games.”

“You’re not staying for long, then? Lucy’s going to be upset.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I know, I planned on doing zoom for my meetings next week, but we’ve just expanded our employees by five hundred percent.”

“What the-”

“Oh, please don’t ask anything. I’m stressed and besides, tonight is all you, Jords. I think a phone call with Lucy and then with Katie and Caitlin may be just what you need, hm?”

Jordan agreed. “Yes, please! I’ll get rid of this rubbish and get us drinks while you message them.”

YFN opened her phone, hovering her finger above Lucy’s message before she remembered their phone call from last night. She bit her lip as she opened Instagram. Sure enough, the first posts were of Lucy boxing and YFN could feel her skin getting hot, and she squirmed as she also felt herself getting wet for her. God damn. Lucy. Those biceps. Lucy. That determined look. Lucy. She groaned.

“You okay?” Jordan asked from the kitchen.

“Yeah!” She called back and liked the post. She considered commenting and decided against that. She was worried how forward she would be in front of Lucy’s 750k followers.

YFN: Hey Luce, are you free for a call with Dory?

Lucy: Hi, little one. I’ve been waiting for your text. I smile when your name pops up on my phone. Yes, I’m free whenever you want me.

YFN: I always want you. And you’re always busy.

Lucy: Lies.

Jordan passed her a drink over the couch and she took a sip.

Lucy: Come to Spain and fuck the busy out of me.

She choked on her drink. Jordan gave her a look before she rolled her eyes as she made her own drink.

YFN: Behave. I’m barely hanging on with your Instagram posts.

Lucy: I hoped you’d like them…can we have a late-night call tonight when you’re free?

YFN: Yes, please.

It’s crazy how naturally they fell into teasing each other. She sent another message to the messenger with Katie, Caitlin and Jordan.

YFN: Hi! Are you all free for a group call with Dory and I in the next hour or so?

Caitlin: KEEN.

Katie: Only if we see your faces.

YFN: Done. I’ll message you soon!

Jordan joined her on the couch then and she called Lucy, giving Jordan the phone. Obviously, Jordan had Lucy’s number, but this was more convenient. She watched as the two old friends spoke, Lucy not failing to make Jordan grin and laugh. Of course she could. At one point they were even speaking about her, and YFN rolled her eyes, working a little on her laptop while they had their talk.

Their talk ended after about forty minutes, Jordan hanging up before YFN could talk to Lucy. She frowned. Lucy immediately texted.

Lucy: Call me in bed?

YFN: Okay, I’ll be about an hour, love. Thank you for that, she really needed it. You managed to cheer her up a lot.

Lucy: I know her too well. You’re welcome, though. Talk soon. x

YFN messaged the girls back then telling them to call whenever they were free. Apparently, that was immediately. Jordan and YFN on one end, Katie and Caitlin on the other. It was a hilarious conversation after Jordan had been honest about what happened with Leah to them. They’d given her support and told her to take her time which reassured her a little bit more. Katie had changed the mood of the conversation after that by introducing Coopurr by holding the cat up to the camera. Jordan responded in kind with Blu, of course. Then Caitlin surprised her fellow Australian with a question.

“Hey chicken, do you know what’s happening with Kyra? She’s been a bit off and we figured you might know…”

YFN hesitated. She didn’t want to keep anything from them, but knew it wasn’t her place. “Uh…yeah…it’s not really my place to say though…”

Katie turned to Caitlin. “I told you.”

“You were right,” Caitlin rasped. “It’s about Courtney then.”

They watched as YFN practically glued her mouth shut. Of course they knew. Courtney was a Matilda. Caitlin was a Matilda.

“Is that why you’re coming to our game now?”

“Oh, that's right! You two were so obvious when Kyra asked what game you were going to.”

“Mmnhmn. Yeah, look, all I can say is that I plan on interviewing them together. We’re going to start interviewing players in groups more, and also interviewing opposition together. So this weekend I’ll do a young interview with those two if I can catch Courtney, and then I’ll do an-”

“An old person interview? Rude.” Caitlin laughed.

YFN rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, we’re happy to do an interview with you, but I assume you want someone you haven’t talked to yet?”

“Yeah, you know, I was thinking Kim or…” She stopped herself as she looked at Jordan.

Jordan frowned. Leah. There was a moment of silence.

“That’s okay, you know.” Jordan reassured. YFN gave a grateful smile.

“…or Jen Beattie?”

“Are you in those little sleeping shorts of yours?” Lucy asked.

“Yes,” she almost whispered.

Lucy hummed. “Good. Take them off.”

YFN did as she was told, wriggling them off and turning back to her phone propped up against Lucy’s pillow.

“Shirt too.”

She pulled her shirt off, now fully bare beneath the sheets besides her socks. Lucy knew she loved her socks, though.

“I wish you could understand how much I want you right now.” She said a little exasperated.

“Tell me…” She whispered, looking at Lucy through the camera. She allowed herself to begin playing with one of her nipples and Lucy noticed, groaning.

“If you could feel between my thighs, you’d know just how much I miss you.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you…I can’t seem to get you out of my mind.”

“Good.” She said almost harshly. “That’s where I belong. Inside your mind. Inside you. Now I need you to touch yourself. I need your hands to do what I wish mine were right now.”

“Guide me where you want me, Luce.”

“Put your free hand around your throat. Good girl. Squeeze a little. Argh…yes. You like that, hm? Two days and that’ll be my hand.”

“God I need you, Luce.”

“I have no idea how I didn’t fuck you silly the other night.”

“Because you love me,” she whispered, her hand moving down over her body and under the sheets. She knew Lucy would enjoy that visual.

“Did I tell you to do that?”

YFN paused. “No…”

“Hm.”

“Can I…?” She trailed off as she saw Lucy’s darkened eyes through the screen.

“Use your words, love.”

“Can I touch myself?”

“Yes, but don’t go inside. Not yet.”

She felt through the wetness of her body, not realising just how ready she was. She was tempted to slip a finger in, but Lucy told her she couldn’t just yet, and so she didn’t. Her fingers found her little bundle of nerves and began to play.

“That’s my girl,” Lucy groaned. “T…that’s my girl. Feel that.”

Lucy stuttering a little was proof to her that she was also touching herself. Her eyes rolled back at the thought and her body was twitching and getting tingly at the stimulation of her clit. They worked themselves up like that for a while, both moaning and shakily breathing. Hearing Lucy losing control was one of her favourite things. She just wished she were right there, rather than across a phone.

“Luce, c…can I go inside?”

“Tell me who you belong to.”

She bit her lip and her back arched at the question, her fingers speeding up. She whimpered. “You, Luce. I belong to you.”

“Yes, you do. Don’t you ever fucking forget that. Two fingers inside, now.”

YFN eagerly thrust two fingers inside herself, her body jerking and her legs automatically widening.

“I want to hear you.”

YFN released one of her nipples to drag the phone down and place it on her left thigh. She could hear Lucy groaning from the other end. She threw the sheet off so she could hear her better.

“God, you have no idea what you do to me,” she repeated. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

“I’m yours, Luce. And I…I’m the l…lucky one.” She had no idea how she managed to get the sentence out. She was so wound up, her body arched into her hand, hips automatically thrusting against her fingers.

“I want you to come like this, fucking yourself. Don't move the phone, I want to hear it.”

YFN did as she was told, and sped up her assault, her body becoming a shaky, uncontrolled mess. It didn’t take long for her to get right to that edge, and she could hear Lucy getting closer. Lucy wasn’t very vocal, that was something they were still working on, however her moaning and panting betrayed her. She was close. She just needed to be tipped over the edge. So YFN gave her that.

“Arghh…Luce…Lucy…can I come?”

She knew asking permission would be Lucy’s last straw.

“Y…yes,” she gasped. “Come.”

YFN sped up her efforts once more as her body unfolded and that electric shock of ecstasy shocked her body into a tense spasm. She heard Lucy whimpering on the other end of the phone and that just made it last longer.

She let herself come down and reached for a tissue near the bed to wipe herself clean. She took the phone and put it back up near her face as she rolled to the side and looked at her girlfriend. Lucy pushed the glasses up her nose, giving a satiated grin. She couldn’t help but return her own.

“This is becoming a regular thing for us.” YFN said.

“I need this just to be able to think during the day about something other than fucking you.”

“Ah, but I thought you liked thinking about me.”

Lucy laughed incredulously. “Yes, but I also have a profession I should be thinking about. Mapi managed to kick a ball into me today while I was zoned out thinking about how good you look under me.”

The visual was hilarious. “You’re insatiable.”

“It’s never been a problem until you. I feel like I’m losing a battle of urges.”

“Keep talking, please, you’re making me feel very loved right now.”

Lucy laughed and YFN continued. “But if it’s any consolation, I also can’t stop thinking about you. The one time I managed to not, was when I was walking into my meeting but then I saw your flowers…”

Lucy grinned. “You liked them? I thought it’d be romantic.”

“Oh, it was. And just so you know, your surprise will be there tomorrow also.”

Lucy’s eyes widened with excitement. “You sent me something?!”

“Last night. I just wanted you to know that I sent it BEFORE I received your flowers.”

“Who’s the romantic one, now?”

“You, always you. I may be a romantic, but I’ll never have anything on you, Luce.”

[winchesterwild78]

Austin part 3

Austin Master List

Chapter Warnings: Language, cheating, angst, Fluff, feels, Smut 😘

A/N: Reader is new to the Austin area with her husband and teenage son. When a car accident brings her face to face with Jensen Ackles. Absolutely no disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not represent reality. This chapter is a little long, but I needed to set up the story. I edited this fast so please overlook any mistakes.

All work is my own, don’t take it

18+ Minors DNI

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

The rest of the night was pretty quiet. Jacob offered to cook dinner which you happily agreed to. As he was cooking you sent Jensen a text.

You: Hey Jensen are you busy?

Jensen: Nope. What’s up?

You: You wanted me to call you but I didn’t want to call unannounced so I figured I’d see if you were available.

Jensen: Yes. I’m not doing anything. You can call whenever you want. Or better yet…

Your phone rang and it was Jensen. You smiled and answered. “Hey.” “Hello beautiful. How is Jacob doing? How did the talk go?” He asked. You smiled when he called you beautiful. It made you blush a little too. “It went really good. He’s glad I kicked him out. He’s pissed at his dad which is understandable. Jacob is an amazing young man. I’m so glad I have him. (Pause) And you.” You said hesitantly. “He seems like a great kid. I’m glad you have him and me too. I’m glad I have you too, Y/N.” Jensen said. Your breath hitched. “Hey, Y/N. You okay?” Jensen questioned. “Yeah I’m okay. I guess I’m just still trying to process the past few days. It’s been a roller coaster of emotions.” You said. “I understand. It’s really quiet here and it’s hard” Jensen said.

“I’m so sorry Jensen. I know you’re used to the house being filled with the sounds of your kids. Are they coming home to you or are they going with Danneel?” You asked. “Right now they are coming home. They are just staying with Jared for the weekend so D can move out and I can figure out what to do next.” He said.

“Do you need some company? We could hang out and talk or watch movies or whatever you want” you asked him. “That actually sounds great. Want to come here or do you want me to come over there” Jensen asked. “I can come over there if you want me to. Jacob is cooking dinner so it will be after dinner. Is that still okay? It’s not too late is it?” You laughed. “No, it’s perfect. I’m about to cook something myself. I’ll text you my address. Just let me know when you’re on your way so I can make sure to open the gate.” Jensen said. “And, Y/N, thank you. I appreciate you coming over.” He said. You smiled and said “you’re welcome Jensen. I’ll see you soon.”

You hung up and Jacob said dinner was ready. The two of you sat at the table eating. “Mom, I am so sorry dad did that to you. You deserve so much better than that. I was going to go out tonight with Becca but I can stay home if you want.” Jacob said. “No honey. You go out with your friends. Wait, who’s Becca?” You smiled. Jacob blushed. “She’s one of the friends I went to the lake with. She’s really sweet and asked me out.” “Oh Jacob, that’s great. Go out with her tonight. I’ll be fine. I’m actually going to go out myself. Jensen and I are going to hang out and talk. His wife just left him so we are kinda like kindred spirits right now.” You told him. Jacob smiled and nodded.

Once dinner was done you washed the dishes and sent Jensen a text.

You: I’m leaving my house. I’ll be there shortly if it’s still okay.

Jensen: I can’t wait. See you soon.

You smiled, grabbed your keys and purse and headed out the door. On the way to Jensen’s you decided to stop and pick up something. Your mother had raised you to not show up to someone’s house empty handed. You knew exactly what you were going to pick up. You parked your car and got out. You pushed open the door to the store and were greeted with a sweet hello and smile. “Hey honey. It’s good to see you again.” She said. “Hey Ms Betty. How are you today” you smiled. “I’m good. How’s that boy of yours?” She asked. You smiled because you couldn’t believe she remembered. “He’s doing pretty good. He’s actually on a date with a young lady named Becca.” “Oh sweet Becca Lynn. She’s a good girl. Very sweet and very pretty.” Ms Betty said.

“Well, what can I get for you honey” she asked. “Can I get a 2 pints of the chocolate brownie. Jensen recommended it and I really wanted to try it.” You said. She smiled softly and her eyes seemed a little sad. “How’s he doing honey? I heard what happened with him and D. I can’t believe she cheated on him with his good friend. Then she left him and those kids.” Ms Betty said as she started to scoop the ice cream. “Yeah, he’s doing as well as he can. I’m actually taking him a pint of the ice cream as a surprise.” You told her. Ms Betty smiled and nodded. She handed you the pints and you went to pay for them and she said “Just be good to our boy. Treat him right and be there for him. He’s one of the good ones.” She said shooing your money away. “Ms Betty, I promise you I will do whatever I can to help heal his heart and be there for him. He’s an amazing man and a great friend.” You smiled at her still trying to pay for the ice cream. She smiled and said “broken hearts need unconditional love and ice cream. It’s on the house honey.”

“Thank you Ms Betty. I appreciate it.” You smiled. “Give Jensen my love, and Y/N, love him like he deserves and he will be yours forever.” She smiled and winked. You smiled, nodded and left. You couldn’t get what she said out of your head. She’s older and you know how older ladies like to play matchmaker, but was she seeing something you didn’t. Jensen is sweet, but his marriage just fell apart and so did yours. There is no way he has feelings for you.

You got in your car and drove to Jensen’s. When you pulled in the driveway you saw this beautiful home in front of you. Then you saw Jensen. Leaning against the doorway, long legs crossed at the ankles. He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans without shoes. Your breath hitched and you couldn’t take your eyes off him. You bit your bottom lip and tried to shake away the thoughts creeping in your mind. It didn’t work. This man was sex on two legs and you wouldn’t say no.

Jensen pushed off the doorframe and walked down the stairs towards your car. He opened the door and when you got out he pulled you into a hug. “Thanks for coming” he said as he kissed the top of your head. You melted into his arms. You pulled back and smiled “thanks for inviting me. I brought you something.” You held up the bag and he looked puzzled. “Ms Betty sends her love” you laughed. He laughed that hearty laugh he’s known for and without hesitation he pulled you in and crashed his lips to yours. Your mind was racing. You love kissing him but he didn’t hesitate.

Jensen pulled away “I’m so sorry Y/N. I don’t know why I did that. I mean I love kissing you but I…shit…I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done that.” You placed your finger on his rambling lips and told him “it’s okay. I love kissing you too. Now let’s get this inside before it melts from the heat.” Jensen nodded, smiled and led you into the house placing his hand on the small of your back.

Walking in his house you took in the beauty. It was an open floor plan and absolutely stunning. “Wow Jensen, it’s beautiful”. “Yes you are” he said looking at you. You blushed and smiled at him. He walked you into the kitchen and put the ice cream in the freezer. “Figured I’d give you a tour if you wanted before we started eating the ice cream.” He said taking your hand.

Walking from room to room you saw how his face lit up talking about memories with his children. Anytime he mentioned his wife he looked so sad. You would gently squeeze his hand and he’d smile. He showed you the kids bedrooms and of course they were adorable. Then he stopped in front of his bedroom. He opened the door and stepped in. “This is my bedroom. Well it was our bedroom but I guess now it’s just mine.” He looked around. You walked up to him and put your arms around him pulling him into a hug. “I’m so sorry Jensen. Ms Betty told me what happened. Seems like we both really understand what the other one is going through.” You offered him a soft smile.

He smiled and there was a comfortable silence that fell between you two. He cupped your face, leaned down and kissed your lips softly. You ran your hands in his hair and he pulled you closer. The kiss changed. It was deeper and filled with need. Your tongues fought for dominance. Jensen’s hands ran up your back and you felt his arousal push against you. As you pulled away your breath hitched. You could feel excitement and want radiate through your body.

Jensen felt it too. He took your hand and led you to the bed. The two of you sat down and kissed again. The kiss became more intense and the two of you laid back. “Is this okay” Jensen questioned. Words wouldn’t come. You shook your head yes. As the two of you laid back Jensen’s hands started to roam up your body. As he found your left breast you moaned into his mouth. He gripped your breast through your shirt. God this man was driving you crazy. With each touch and each kiss you felt your arousal growing. You wanted him. Was it wrong to want him? Did you even care if it was? Did he want you too?

Jensen felt you tense a little. “Y/N, I’m sorry. We can stop. This was too soon wasn’t it” he panicked.

You looked in his beautiful green eyes and shook your head no. “No, Jensen. I don’t want to stop. It isn’t too soon. I want you to touch me. I…uh…want you.” You said in a breathy voice. He pulled his shirt off over his head with one hand exposing his perfectly toned body. You bit your lip and could feel the slick pooling between your legs. You leaned up and pulled off your shirt. Jensen looked at your bra covered breasts and smiled. You reached your hand around and unhooked your bra. Your breasts sprang free and Jensen bit his lip. “Damn you’re beautiful” he said taking in the sight of your exposed chest. He cupped one breast and his mouth took the other in. Sucking it and nibbling the nipples. You arched your back and gasped. He felt so good and the electricity coursing through your body was something you’d never felt with your husband.

Your mind was racing. You both were still married, but you both are heading for divorce. Is this wrong? How far are you willing to go, how far is he? Do you really care. Jensen Ackles is making out with you and clearly he wants you.

You felt his hands on your body and leaving kisses up and down. He made his way to your pants and stopped. He leaned up “we can stop. We don’t have to go any further than kissing and what we just did. I would love more, but I’m willing to wait for as long as you want.” “Jensen, I do want you. I want you to touch me and to take me as far as you want to go. I’m just scared. Not of you but of me. I know how being with someone changes things and if I’m being honest I already have feelings for you.” You said without looking at him.

Jensen smiled, lifted your chin until your eyes met. “Sweetheart, I have feelings for you too. I thought that was obvious. I know we both just got out of bad relationships but I really feel we can make it. I can’t explain it but I really feel that way.” He placed a kiss on your lips and you moved your body closer towards him. “Take me Jensen, make me yours. Please” you whispered.

You laid back and he started to unbutton your pants. You lifted your hips so he could take them off. Jensen threw them to the side and stood up taking his off. He was in his boxers and you in your panties. Jensen looked at you, took his tongue and brought in his bottom lip biting it. “Damn sweetheart you’re absolutely gorgeous.” You blushed. “Are you ready, Y/N. We don’t have to do this. I want you to be ready” he said sweetly. “Jensen, I’m ready. I’m more than ready. I want you and I want to be with you.” You slid off your panties throwing them to the side. “Now, make me yours, please” you said.

Jensen removed his boxers and his hard length sprang free. Damn he was bigger and thicker than you thought. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll be easy.” He smirked. Jensen kissed up your thighs. You squirmed under his touch. His hot breath causing chills on your body. As he got closer to your pussy you could feel your body responding to his touch. His fingers slipped between your folds and you gasped at the thickness of his fingers. “You’re soaking wet baby” he said looking at his wet fingers. You smiled and gasped as he put his fingers back on. He hooked his fingers up and started to lick your clit like a starved man. You moaned loudly.

You couldn’t help it but you took a hand and held his hair, pushing him into you more. “Oh god Jensen. You feel so good. I’m going to cum” Jensen looked up and said “cum baby, cum for me.” A few more licks and pumps of his fingers and you were cumming hard. Your legs are shaking and he kept licking. You moaned loudly and grabbed his head. He hooked his strong arms around your thighs and kept licking your sensitive clit. You felt yourself close again. You moaned loudly and yelled “Oh fuck! Jensen I’m cumming again.” As you came undone for the second time Jensen backed away smiling.

You looked at him with a flushed face and smiled. “That was amazing Jensen. I’ve never felt like that.” He smirked and said “just wait.” He kneeled between your legs, opened the condom he pulled from the table and slid it on. He lined himself up and slowly started to push in. Your breath hitched as he entered. Oh he was so big, stretched you in ways you’ve never been before.

Jensen was taking his time entering you. Each thrust he would go a little further in. Moans escaped your lips and his. You both grunted and moaned as he bottomed out. He would pull out and slowly push all the way back in. Your toes curled as his hands roamed your body and his lips kissed you. “Oh Jensen, you feel so good. Please don’t stop” you said. “Mmm Y/N, you feel amazing. We fit together perfectly.” He thrusted in deeper. The room filled with the sounds of pleasure. The moans, grunts of pleasure and the sound of the furniture moving were swirling through the room, mingling together like a sweet symphony.

As Jensen sped up you moved your hips with him. Your nails running down his back as you pulled him closer. He kissed your lips and his movements got faster. He was chasing his release. As his release came he grunted and his movements slowed. He placed a soft kiss on your lips and as he softened he removed himself and got out of the bed.

He walked to the bathroom to remove the condom and clean himself up. When he returned he brought a warm washcloth to clean you up. After you were clean he threw the washcloth to the side and pulled down the blanket. You both crawled in the bed and Jensen offered you his arm. You snuggled into his side and placed your head on his arm. He kissed the top of your head and said “that was amazing Y/N. So much better than I had imagined. Thank you.” He kissed your head again. You looked at him and smiled. “Jensen that was absolutely mind blowing. I’ve never felt like that before and you were so gentle with me.”

“I didn’t hurt you did I” he questioned. You shook your head no. “You were perfect” you smiled. As you laid with your head on his chest you felt a little tingle in your chest. You tried to deny it but you knew. Jensen laid holding you and drawing delicate patterns on your skin. He was blissful, and not just because he had sex. Everything with you felt easy. Almost comfortable. Like you two had been together for years. He felt a little tingle in his chest. He tried to deny it but he knew.

“So Jensen, are you ready for another orgasmic experience? I’m kinda hungry.” you giggled. Jensen laughed “yeah let’s go put my theory to the test.” You both laughed. You started to get up but Jensen pulled you back into his arms. You giggled as he covered you with kisses. He let you go and you both got dressed.

Walking downstairs hand in hand you felt something shifting between you two. It was exciting but scary. Could you trust him with your heart, you thought to yourself. Jensen led you to the kitchen and grabbed a pint and two spoons. “Figured we could share the orgasmic experience” he winked. You smirked and nodded yes.

The two of you sat on the couch together and Jensen put on a movie. You have no idea what movie because you were too busy watching how he ate the ice cream. You could see now how he was able to give you an orgasm with his tongue. Damn everything he does is sexy as hell.

Jensen saw you staring and asked “you okay, sweetheart?” “Yeah, I’m just wondering if you’re trying to give that spoon an orgasm?” You chuckled. “You jealous” he smirked. You nodded yes. “I’ll be happy to give you a third one if you want.” He replied in a lust filled voice. You clenched your thighs together and moaned.

Jensen’s eyes turned a darker shade of green and filled with lust. He sat the ice cream down and took your spoon. His lips found yours. They were cold and tasted like brownies. His hands found the hem of your shirt and slipped under. He grabbed your breasts causing a moan to escape and a chill ran through your body.

Before either of you could comprehend you were making love again. This time was different. Jensen was incredible before, but this time it felt like your souls were making love. By the time you two were finished the credits were rolling on the screen. You had never been with anyone who took their time with you. It felt perfect, this felt perfect.

You knew it was late so you had to leave. A huge part of you wanted to stay but you had to get home to Jacob.

After you got dressed Jensen walked you to your car. “Thank you for coming over tonight. I want you to know I don’t regret anything you and I did. I wanted it. I wanted you.” He cupped your face and kissed you. You smiled “I don’t regret it either. I wanted it and you too. Thank you, Jensen for making me feel beautiful and wanted again.” You kissed him again and he opened your car door. “Call me when you get home.” He said as he closed your car door. You nodded and pulled out of the driveway.

On the drive home you replayed the events of the evening in your head. You smiled. Your phone dinged with a text message. You had your car read it to you. It was from Rob.

“Y/N, please don’t throw away our marriage. I love you. I couldn’t help myself. Call me. We need to talk”

You dialed his number. “What the hell do you want Rob?” You hissed when he answered the phone.

“I’m sorry baby. Please let me come back. I know I messed up.” He pleaded

“No, Rob. Absolutely not. We are done. You and Cindi have an amazing life together.” You said

“You know what you bitch, I was going to take you back but fuck you. I’m glad I have a pretty, younger woman to warm my bed. Good luck finding someone who will want a middle aged, used up woman to warm his.” Rob said.

“Don’t worry about me, Rob. I’m sure I’ll have no problem finding someone who can fuck me like I deserve.” You laughed then hung up.

You pulled in the driveway at home and saw Jacob’s car was home. You got out and went inside. Jacob was sitting on the couch eating chips. “Hey mom. How was your date” he wiggled his eyebrows. “I didn’t have a date. We just watched a movie and chatted.” You laughed. “How was your date” you laughed. “It was good. We had a lot of fun. There will be another one” he said.

“I’m glad honey. Well I’m heading to bed. Love you and good night.” You said. You went to your room and closed the door. You called Jensen. “Hey sweetheart. Did you make it home” he asked. “Yes Jens I’m home. Getting ready for bed. Jensen, I can’t stop thinking about earlier and you. It was incredible. I’ve never felt like that before.” You told him. “It was incredible. Thank you for trusting me enough to take that step with you. You felt incredible and I can’t stop thinking about you either.” He said.

The two of you talked about any and everything for a few hours. You kept yawing but didn’t want to go to sleep. “Sweetheart, you’re tired. Let me let you go to sleep.” He whispered into the phone. “No, I don’t want to go” you whined. Jensen chuckled “how about we go grab some breakfast tomorrow morning, or better yet you come here and I’ll cook for you.” “That sounds wonderful baby. What time do you want me to come over.” You asked. “How about now” he laughed. “I’m kidding. You can come over about 8 if you want.” “Okay. I’ll be there by 8. Let me know what I can bring.” You said. “You just bring your cute self” Jensen said.

“Well we should go to sleep. Good night Jensen” you whispered. “Good night baby. I’ll see you in the morning.” Jensen said. You both hung up and you sighed. Today was incredible and being with Jensen was beyond anything in your wildest dreams. You put your phone down, set your alarm and lay down. As you fell asleep you could feel your body tingle with anticipation and your heart fill with love. You knew it was too soon, but you couldn’t deny it. You were completely and irrevocably falling in love with Jensen. You only hoped he was too.

Tags: @nescaveckdaily @kr804573 @k-slla @jackles010378 @jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @roseblue373 @cheynovak @jassackles @chriszgirl92 @suckitands33 @arcannaa @n-o-p-e-never

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silver Lining 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes

Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"So your sister will be coming by next week with the little ones," your mother declares as you stand at the sink, scrubbing away the remnants of roast beef and potato. "You'll get to play auntie for the day."

"Mhmm," you nod, "what about Justin?"

"Oh, your brother's down visiting with his fiance's family. He said he'd try to make if for Christmas Eve but you know how her family is."

You sniff and pretend to know. You really don't. It's all hearsay to you. You don't hear much from either siblings; they have lives, you just happen to be related.

"S-sounds great," you utter as you put another plate in the rack.

"Oh, honey, you should just use the dishwasher," she says.

"It's f-f-fine, this works," you insist.

"Well, what about you? What are you up to?" She leans on the counter.

"I..." you don't know what to say. You need a lie, anything to appease her. Your brother's engaged, your sister has the white picket fence and you have nothing, "oh, I h-have a job interview."

"You do?" She sounds thoroughly disbelieving.

"Uh, yeah, w-well," you stammer through, trying not to give away your deceit, "since n-no one wants to h-hire me in my f-field, I f-found something new."

"That's exciting," she chimes, "what is it?"

"Uh, I w-want to see i-if it turns out b-before I say," you give a tight-lipped smile, "don't want to d-disappoint you again."

"Sweetie, you're not a disappointment," she hums, "I'm always happy to see you trying."

You look down at the sink and shrug. Behind that comment is the inference that you weren't trying before. That you haven't been. The long nights with vivid nightmares don't exactly motivate you and you've been all but blacklisted as an executive assistant. Even admin roles aren't responding. Even if you do get a bite, the job market is drawn out and tedious.

"Thanks, mom."

"Just... try not to mope around the kids," she chides, "it's Christmas."

You flutter your lashes, "sure, mom."

That's what you are to everyone; weak, pathetic, useless. No, don't do that. You'll make another appointment with Lisa, she always knows what to do.

☕️

Well, this is it. A last resort. One of those freelancing websites that pays pennies. It's better than nothing and will keep you from having too big a gap on your resume. You could easily do the writing gigs, easy money for transcription. You apply to a few of those and scroll on.

You sit up as you see a particular posting that interest you. Oddly enough, the pay isn't half bad. It's also labeled as 'may lead to ongoing work'. Well, well, well, now that's something.

You click into the posting for 'Podcast Script Writer' and review the details. A sample is required for application and lucky enough, you have lots of those hanging around. If it wasn't for your stammer, you'd have an episode done by now. You deleted enough recordings to the point of giving up. Well, this is a solution. You can get your work out there without having to embarrass yourself.

You go through the application, putting in your info and editing a draft before attaching it to the application. You just hope it's thorough enough. You never really let anyone else see and hitting submit makes your stomach flip. With the final click, you close your laptop and quickly get up. Alright, you're not going to dwell on it. If you hear anything, you'll worry then.

You try to read but can't focus. It just makes you think of the posting and your application. Oh jeez, imagine you're rejected but worse, they tell you you've done everything wrong.

Appointment! You can't forget that. You login to the app and put in a request for a Zoom appointment that week. Alright, you're getting things done, you can't say you've done nothing.

You put a video on your phone and lean it on the pop out grip, propping it up on your mattress to watch the compilation of sitcom moments cut together on Youtube. Your mind wanders and your eyes begin to sag as the day shrouds you in fatigue. You slip into a shallow doze as the glare of the screen flickers over you.

The distant clack of keyboards and clicking of mouses needles behind your ears. It's as if you're trapped in a bubble of silence, all colours and noised dampened by the unseen wall. You shudder as you hear his voice, the only thing that's clear. Your name crawls up behind the shell of your ear with his breath as his hands settle on your hips. Your body aches as every muscles tightens and your bones lock in place. Please, no, not again...

"Sir..." you try to speak but nothing comes out. He's always tugging your skirt up, his hand is around your throat. You close your eyes as tears stain your cheeks.

You wake with a start, your phone black as the battery's drained from neglect. You sit up and pant, looking around your dark bedroom, the moonlight limning shadows sinisterly. You gulp and fall back, watching the ceiling as the tears rise in reality and sting your eyes.

If you'd just said no. A simple word. Even you can manage that.

You lay for a while until your restlessness boils over. You get up and plug in your phone. The screen lights up as you rub your eye socket and yawn. There's an email notification in the taskbar. Probably more ads for things you can't afford.

You pull down the menu but find ‘Application Update’ emblazoned across the notification. Oh wow, that was fast. You keep yourself from tapping on the email.

You don't know if you can handle another rejection. You'd rather languish in the uncertainty. You've been doing so for so long, it almost feels safe.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for editing my friends cover letter and then telling him I wouldn’t give him my employee number for a referral if he used the cover letter he wrote? (Emojis to find this whenever it posts)

✍️🧠

For some context… I work for a HUGE university that is extremely hard to get a job at. I have friends in HR here now and they said pretty much every job posting (and the postings are pretty sparse) gets a minimum of 250-300 applications. I got extremely lucky securing my job and truly do not take that for granted. And now that I’m an “insider” I have the ability to make referrals for my friends so that they can at least get an interview and hopefully a job here too and hop on the good pay and excellent benefits train especially since we’re all coming up on 26, therefore, we are all losing our health insurance (yay America).

So, one of my friends finished his masters degree recently and was looking for jobs in my area and saw something at my place of employment he was interested in. I told him I would be more than happy to look over his cover letter and resume before he submitted his application because I know what they look for in those. He said if there was any major changes he would pay me for edits too. I agreed because why not help my friend out. Give him a shot at this place.

And as much as I hate to say it… his cover letter was just… bad. It was so bad I reread it a good 5 times before I was fully able to comprehend just how bad it was. I had to go for a walk around the block to collect my thoughts on it. It literally made me question how he got a masters degree if I am being completely frank. It was also just so atrocious I offered to edit it for free because I felt so bad.

I don’t want to give specifics but think, half a paragraph on things he explicitly states that he has not done and will never do in his masters program, saying “folks” instead of colleagues (which is fine in conversation but like. Not for a cover letter ya know?), talked more about his experience in retail than he did his actual masters program, and just so so so much more.

So to just give him as fair of a shot as I could, I asked him for his thesis and service work that he did in his program, and asked permission to pretty much start from scratch on his cover letter. He excitedly agreed and told me to “go to town and do what you have to” and said “you know better than me what they’re looking for” and once I returned the final product to him he wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about the amount of jargon I inserted and the amount of changes I made to his “flare”. I had my friend in HR at the specific department I work at read it over and he said it was spectacular and he would interview someone with the cover letter in a heartbeat. I told my friend that and he still felt like I “robbed it of his personality.” I told him he’s welcome to edit it however he wants but my friends in HR said it was really strong how I wrote it and I would highly recommend not making any changes before he applies if he wants to get an interview and told him to just think on it for a bit before throwing in his application.

He didn’t respond for a couple of days and then called me out of the blue and told me he was working on his application now, was planning on using his original cover letter unedited, and needed my ID number for the referral. And I said… no. I am super super lucky to have my job and as jobs here are in such high demand I was scared to stick my neck out for him because I felt it might stain my reputation and reflect poorly on me. And he yelled at me and accused me I was being selfish and uppity about my job and that I needed to just give him the number because “if doesn’t matter anyway”. I tried to explain to him that any referral an employee makes gets added to their file regardless if the person got hired or not.

I did not want to stand by his original cover letter because I felt like it would’ve knocked him out of the running LONG before the interviews would’ve even started getting scheduled. I also feel it is important to add, I never told him his cover letter was garbage. I just told him it needed some work/jargon/fine tuning to the job description. I would never EVER say something like that to someone because I would never want to hurt someone’s feelings

I feel horrible. I didn’t want him to be hurt by the advice and changes I was making but I am in a very interesting and delicate position with my job in that I am one of like 5 people in any kind of administrative role at the entire institution that doesn’t have a bachelors degree. I secured my job because I worked as a temporary assistant for a few months and they loved me so much they made an exception to hire me in fully. I am deeply loved in my department and I truly love my job with all of my heart. It is wonderful and incredibly rewarding to do the work that I do so I really do not want to fuck this up for myself. I have had other friends apply and get jobs here with a little guidance and they love it too. I absolutely want that for my friend I was trying to help. I truly do. But he was not willing to take my advice and I just couldn’t risk sticking my neck out for him. So… AITA?

TL/DR: I work for a hard to get into place. Spent a lot of time fixing my friends app bc he writes like a 14 year old despite having a masters degree. He said he was using his shitty cover letter and asked for my referral number anyway and I told him no it’s not gonna happen because I can’t afford to stick my neck out like that since I got my job in a non traditional way leaving me a bit more vulnerable than most. I never explicitly told him “your cover letter is garbage” because I didn’t want to make him feel bad but warned him it would most likely not make it to the interviews and the one that I wrote him was applauded by my friends who work in HR.

What are these acronyms?

[azwhore]

husband alex turner x wife reader

warnings: nun but fluff <3

<><><>

It’s been a while since you’ve last seen Alex. He’s been on tour for The Car for six months and have only seen him on a few occasions. You couldn’t go with him and the band due to work; you were forced to stay behind despite your attempts to go with them.

The last time you and Alex had seen each other was about two months ago. The only reason you were able to see him was for an interview he had in which you were invited to. He begged you to go with him even though you didn’t like doing so. Alex knows that. You’ve always hated being interviewed with him because it felt like the interviewers were trying to pry into your private relationship. What went on between Alex and you was for you two only, not for the public.

After a long day at work, you come home exhausted. You’re eager to shower, eat some dinner, and just relax. Who wouldn’t be? So when you get home, that’s exactly what you do. An “everything” shower was desperately needed after the week you’ve had.

Once done with your shower, you put on a comfy set of pajamas. A grey tank top and white sweats, perfect. You decide on some perfume, even though you won’t be around anyone for the rest of the night. You put on your Victoria’s Secret Bare roll-on perfume. It’s your favorite.

You finish getting dressed and make your way to the kitchen to make dinner. Deciding on what you’ve taken out, you make pollo guisado (chicken stew). It was one of your favorites. Mom always made it when you were younger.

After some time, you finish cooking and feast on it. Man, were you a damn good cook. One good meal later, you settle in your queen sized bed that you shared with Alex. You miss him. You miss his warm body cuddling. You miss his soothing voice.

You soon dwell no more on that, as you were almost on the brink of tears. You pick up your book that you were currently reading on the nightstand, How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents. So far, you are greatly enjoying the book. You like analyzing it as well as it being somewhat relatable.

***

It’s 11:18 PM, about an hour and a half since you started reading. You need to get some sleep since you have work all over again tomorrow. Luckily though, tomorrow is Friday. Wonderful.

You put your book back and settle in bed. You can feel sleepiness sinking you deeper and deeper. Reveling in the feeling, you eventually fall asleep.

Suddenly, you feel something envelop around you. You wake up, anxiety beginning to course through you. Just as you are about to panic, you hear a voice whisper in your ear.

“I’ve missed you, love.” You’d recognize that voice anywhere. It’s Alex.

Turning around, you take a good look at your husband whom you haven’t seen for two months. He greets you with a smile, his hair as messy as you remember.

“Alex!” You exclaim. You couldn’t express your excitement any other way than wrapping your arms around him. Tears begin to well at your eyes, threatening to fall. You try to hold them back with all your might so you could speak with him.

“I thought you wouldn’t be able to come back for a while? How come you’re here?” You ask, bringing him into another big hug. You can feel him smiling against you as he brings his arms around your body, squeezing you against him.

“One of the shows got postponed for two weeks from now so I immediately came here. I had to see you. If I had gone another day without you, I would have gone mad.” He explained. It felt so good to see him again.

“Ugh, I’ve missed you so much.” You say. Suddenly you realize he might be hungry so you ask, “Are you hungry? There’s still some leftovers from what I made earlier. I can heat it up for you.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m just glad to be here with my wife.” He smiles. You could never get tired of his smile.

“How’s the tour so far? It looks like you and the boys are having some fun.” You laugh. Even though you aren’t going on tour with them, you still keep up sometimes. Especially with those edits of him that fangirls make. You’re not complaining since your husband is a damn fine man if you say so yourself. They should tone it down just a bit, though (don’t actually alex turner is so fine).

“Yeah it’s been awesome. The places we’ve been to have been beautiful. I really wish you could come with us, love. That would just make it 100 times better.” Alex smiles once again.

“Me too. But you already know why I can’t. If I didn’t have work, I most definitely would.” You say. It’s not like Alex wouldn’t full on support you financially; he obviously would. You, on the other hand, don’t want that. The two of you even got into a big argument once about it. He doesn’t see a problem in financially stabilizing you, but you would rather work. You still want to have a life and work for yourself. You don’t want to be just a stay-at-home wife; it’s so stereotypical of celebrity relationships. You want to make a living for yourself, and Alex now 100% understands and supports that.

“Yeah, I get it. My dear wife is so strong.” He gives you a quick kiss with a smirk. You giggle at that. Alex always knows how to make you laugh.

Some time later, you lay with each other in a comfortable silence. This was almost the best part of your relationship. You two could just sit there with your eyes closed not saying a word and you both would understand each other.

Alex lays on his back, eyes closed with his left arm wrapped around your shoulders. Your head is resting against his chest while your hand is on his stomach gently tracing circles. Your eyes were closed too as he hummed to you.

“You know, I still have to go to work tomorrow.” You break the silence. Alex hums in response.

“Do you really though? I’m going to be stuck here by myself all day without you.” He says with a pout.

“Well, I probably could call out tomorrow. One day wouldn’t hurt, right?” You question. Now that you think about it, you haven’t called out from work in a while. You should get a day off. “Hm, I think I’ll stay here with my husband. I get to enjoy a whole three days with you.” You say kind of sarcastically. Although you were anything but sarcastic. You’re more than happy to spend the rest of his two week break with him, as was he.

The both of you continue to enjoy each other’s silence, sleep overcoming you once again. Your eyes feel heavy as they slowly fall. Eventually, you succumb to your slumber, your breath evening out. Alex follows soon after with you in his arms. He really hopes these two weeks last forever.

<><><>

[gerdy-sertorius]

The Definitive Damsel Analysis (if I do say so myself)

(Disclaimer: I know it’s absurdly long, and for that I apologize. I apparently am more unwilling to make cuts than I am to present subpar work. I’m working on it. Only editing I do for my autistic ramblings is copyediting, baby! Whoo! I will be updating this for the Pristine Cut once it comes out and we get even *more* Damsel. Obviously, as I’m sure you can tell from the length, I really like Damsel. There will be all of the bias. It will be great.)

(Author’s Note: For the love of the most high God, it took me like twenty read throughs for me to standardize what I wanted to call the Scorched Grey. Here is a brief list of all the terms I used to refer to her: Scorched Grey, Burned Grey, Burning Grey, Fire Grey, Damsel Chapter 3. Sometimes but not always preceded by “the” or “The”.)

Alright, ladies and gentlemen. I have oft made the statement on here that Damsel is the best route in the game, and this began as me trying to definitively prove that, by microscopically going through the route, I could establish exactly why, it would seem, that Damsel has objective superiority. It sorta… evolved, though, so instead I will be going relatively chronologically throughout, and trying to point out a couple things that all of you know about and maybe a couple things you don’t about the best character in the game. With that preamble out of the way, let’s begin with the goofy stuff, the grab bag if you will. 

This will certainly be more personal taste than anything else, but I do think there’s a lot of miscellaneous stuff that Damsel does better than the other chapters. For example, I am convinced that it has the third best music, behind Tower and her routes and then Thorn. I am genuinely obsessed with “It Was Always That Easy”. The basement has some *fantastic* art, and I think that really carries a chapter that is otherwise generally bland when it comes to actual visual activity. It’s really carried by its genuinely perfect dialogue. 

Overall, and most importantly, this chapter is the undisputed master of the idea of positive ambience. You know elevator music? How it’s there to artificially increase the cheeriness of an otherwise dreary moment, like a hotel hallway or, yanno, an elevator? Well, this is the chapter that does it perfectly. Everything is designed to make it “nicer” than it actually is. The Narrator even takes that into account when describing the basement. The sound design is fresh and relaxing, the music is uplifting, the Princess’s voice is obviously fantastically done, but also the Voice of the Smitten plays a large role in making it feel “good”. It’s something that exists in order to communicate exactly the feelings it wants the player to feel, which is all warm and fuzzy inside. But let’s move on to the actual content, shall we?

Damsel has *the* best Chapter One and it isn’t even close. Certainly not in the horror department, where I think Beast and Nightmare shine, or even in the whole characterization bit, where the award can only go to Spectre and the masterclass that is her Chapter One. But Damsel has something else to it. Damsel has tragedy, almost Shakespearean in nature. Nobody else has it (except Witch, to some extent, but nowhere close to the same level), nobody manages to reach that connection, there and then broken, to honestly feel for both Princess and Slayer. Allow me to paint a picture of a playthrough. 

You are on a path in the woods. At the end of that path is a cabin. In the basement of that cabin is a princess. You are here to slay her. But you don’t do that. That voice itching in the back of your skull, the one you quite literally call Hero, your moral compass even, raises some objections. You don’t want to kill *anybody*. That isn’t something you want to mark yourself with, especially not solely on the word of an individual you just met. For now, violence is a nonstarter.

You enter the cabin. And you hear her voice. And you see her. You even talk with her for a while. The moment is… hypnotizing. Despite the Narrator’s warning of manipulation, well, you cannot help but be manipulated. This is a genuinely nice, sweet, scared Princess who simply wants to be free. You have to save her. It is the right thing to do, it is the… only thing to do. Anything else marks you with the dirtiness of simply being unwilling to help someone in need when you had the full ability to. 

You go to get a key. Unsuccessful. The door locks. Even worse. The Narrator is moving from irritating to downright malicious, clearly enjoying recounting the lock of the door. Disgust for Him has been present since you entered the cabin, but it shifts to anger very quickly. That shift continues with full force as you attempt with what little ability you have to save the Princess, even if you don’t quite know how you will get out. The question does not last long. For the shift to anger shifts once more, to a sort of incomprehensible fury.

For the Narrator has crossed a line. Not only has he taken away any semblance of choice, not only has he raised your own knife against an innocent, someone who has been nothing but kind to you, but you are the one who must bear the shame for it. You are the only one who is doing the foul deed in any eyes but your own. Speaking of, the Princess’s eyes are filled with genuine happiness at the moment, as you are finally giving her the freedom she has yearned for such a  long time. Yet through no fault of your own, you raise the pristine blade, the one you refused to bring down to the basement in the first place. You scramble through the list of options, attempting to find anything that could provide a sliver of hope in the situation, anything without the grim finality of “Slay the Princess”. 

At last, you find one, and are able to bark out a warning to the Princess. That happiness in her eyes is shifted to a look of fear, one directed at you alone, one condemning you with such a sorrowful betrayal that it almost hurts to see. She begs for you to stop, and then she says something that almost calms the internal storm of the player: “Please, I know this isn’t you.” She recognizes that it isn’t us that betrayed her, she understands that we aren’t trying to do this, that we are flat-out trying to stop it. But the eye of that storm is passing, and soon.

And as she takes the blade, as she prepares to do what she must to live, that same look of tragic betrayal crosses her eyes, this time not directed at us, but at herself. She hates that this is her only option, the only way that she can live is to kill another, one with every intention of freeing her and no intention of harming her. And in the end, she simultaneously underscores the tragedy of the moment while confirming our perception that she could never be a threat to the world. As she plunges the blade into our chest, she has failed to even do the bare minimum of making our death painless, something that fills her with even more guilt, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tries and fails to end our own agony. The last thing we see of her are her endless cascade of both tears and apologies, as everything goes dark. 

This… is beautiful. A glorious tragedy, one with limited theming, simply two characters with emotions that feel natural. And, quite strangely, the first chapter has almost nothing to do with the second chapter. But it is still important. I’ll get to that later. Better things await now! For with the end of the tale of the Hero and the Princess, we have a new individual, everyone’s favorite buddy, the Voice of the Smitten. 

I am certain I do not need to underscore just how popular Smitten is. Easily the most fan favorite of the fan favorites, especially solidifying his place within that roster with the Kiss from a Thorn. He is jovial, passionate, he is Don Quixote, complete with the unlimited self-delusion that comes with the territory. There’s a reason people love him. Romantic in a game entitled a love story, the largest of personalities in a game stuffed with them, he is the storybook hero come to life in a game that has just as much reverence for storybook heroes as the deconstructions of them. In short, he is the visage of likability itself, with all the bombast that comes with that. Yet that is only from a wholly external perspective. 

For what I am certain I do need to underscore is just how sinister Smitten is. For all of his likability, the Smitten is also probably the single slimiest voice out of all of them with the possible exception of the Opportunist. This is not a new revelation – people have understood that since the beginning with his frankly disturbing behavior regarding the Princess. What is perhaps more interesting is his relationship with the player. For he is one of the two options that reflect the player at this point within the story. Either the player is trying to do the right thing and free an innocent, or they have somewhat… different motivations. 

The former reflects the Hero. Somewhat naive, in many routes somewhat bumbling even, but first and foremost focused on the external. That is, “how can I make a positive impact on the world around me?” As contradictory as it may seem to how the Hero is presented, it’s something of an intellectualist approach. The Hero is trying to find the best possible world and working towards that with all of his might. It is, one could say, devoid of emotion except that determination to change the world, to make it a better place. While the goal remains the same, the path to get there is fundamentally continuously being calculated. The Hero is your conscience, and as such he must *always* work overtime for that. 

The Smitten is not that. No, he has made no secret that he is the path of passion. Even when he is generally considered to be a better person, he declares that, “Whatever world would condemn two star-crossed lovers to a cycle of violence and despair isn’t a world worth saving.” His focus is internal, it is on ourself and our romance. There is no extensive study into what is the correct option, there is only what would assist in our relationship, which is somehow ordained by the universe. To put it into understandable terms, Hero is a modern hero while Smitten is a Romantic-era hero. 

There’s an important line when going down the stairs that I think speaks volumes about the type of player and playthrough currently occurring. That is “We can still do right by her without all this over-the-top fawning.” *That* is the line of demarcation between the route of the Hero and the route of the Smitten. If you decide to embrace or repudiate the Smitten at that point, I think the route is sealed. I am convinced that the game will continue on in a fixed way based on that philosophy. The point where you must, internally that is, decide if you are doing this out of a desire for what is right, or an infatuation with the Princess. 

Now, of course there isn’t anything wrong with taking the path of the Smitten, and it’s personally one of my top points in the game, but whether you admit it or not, you are long past morality being what decides your actions. That has come and gone. Now, the goal is to express the passion of the moment and delve into your romantic relationship with the Princess. I’ll be evaluating each of the routes differently, loosely organized with a focus on how it reacts to the player. After that, I’ll go on into theming of each route one by one and all that jazz.

The path of the Smitten first. The player embraces that he has been sent to save the Princess from her unjust and foul imprisonment above all else. So that is what he does. He marches downstairs, the blade being nothing but a passing afterthought as it is immediately dismissed out of hand. When it comes to the crucial point of “doing right by her”, the justification is made that two things can be done at once, that you can do this for her and do a little bit of fawning on the way. Doesn’t harm anyone.

And with that the basement arrives, and you see the Princess on the floor. She is perfect in all ways. There is nothing wrong with her. And that’s before you start talking to her. When you do begin talking to her, all of the kindness and innocence from Chapter 1 are magnified to the greatest degree possible. She can do no wrong. And, from a meta standpoint, there’s another thing that stands out – it is really, *really* funny. From everything the Smitten says to the “Then I didn’t end the world!” to the Narrator’s (a villain at this point) growing exasperation at your trust for the Princess, it endears you to the moment even more. 

Because it’s not only that it’s funny. It’s not only that the Princess is genuinely nice to you. It’s something more than that. Something that I am loath to talk about but will anyway. The Princess is incredibly – *sigh* – **cute** within this chapter. This is objective, with science to back me up, I’m sure. But she is specifically designed to be as heartwarming as possible, and every line makes her more and more into someone who should be saved by you, into, well, a Damsel. While it isn’t explicitly stated, throughout the progression of dialogue, the need to protect her becomes more pronounced. You were already primed to like the Princess, you already internally committed to a romantic future. But after stepping into the bear trap willingly, you cannot escape. 

And if you’re anything like me, you are perfectly fine with that. So you take in the moment, you rescue her from her chains and laugh at the way her hands slipped out of the chains and the Narrator’s comical anger at it. It’s all very feel-good, all cleanly written dialogue, and both the Princess and the Smitten are likable, they’re fun, and the Narrator is a fun enough villain for the Smitten and you to unite against. The Hero, if we’re being honest, barely registers, and if he does it’s usually as an extension to the Narrator, as a foil to yourself. And with her finally free, she embraces you, sealing the deal on her perfection. 

And after that, something else happens. The deconstruction begins. You want to see if her dialogue has any more of that saccharine present throughout the rest of the chapter, and are immediately rewarded with the “The princess closes her eyes in deep reflection” and the follow up joke. Hungry for more, you click through some more of the dialogue, but something begins to happen. She begins to… unwind. The Smitten seems to reciprocate in turn, to a lesser extent. In fact, she really starts to return to the horror that this chapter was a nice respite from. So you cut your losses, decide to leave with her, and everything returns to normal. Bathed in the glow of your future, you immediately forget about the deconstruction.

After that, you finally get out of the basement, get a genuinely great moment opening the door alongside the Princess, never think twice about clicking “You’re not doing that.” as fast as humanly possible, and finally await the door at the end of the cabin. You finally get your fairytale ending. The princess goes out into the world together with you. You brought her out. And then she is taken by the Shifting Mound in a way reminiscent of her dying. Even if this wasn’t your first playthrough, it still comes as a shock. For the most part, you were being that Romantic hero, living in the moment with your passion. The thought of this happening was gone entirely. This wasn’t supposed to happen. And it *hurts*. And the chapter is over. 

The route of the Hero has a different point of view on the whole situation. That’s not to say it’s not easy to get drawn in by the hilarious dialogue and sheer cuteness of the Princess – far from it. It is, after all, what drives the conflict within this. For the Hero, and the player that goes along his path, has one bit of information stand out. That the world ended after the Princess killed you. Now, you can naturally be skeptical of the information, but the Princess isn’t helping her case here. Entirely vague, entirely unwilling to mention anything about it. The only thing she seems to care about is getting on your good side. 

Now, you still want to save her. That much is clear. You still don’t take the knife in the beginning, and you saw her Chapter 1 incarnation. She is still a good person, kind and loving. But there are questions raised, important questions. Which is why not all Hero routers get the same ending. There is a conflict between how far you’re able to go before the risk of the world ending eclipses your distrust of the Narrator and your trust of the Princess. If the whole world really does end if she’s free, is it worth it? And as such you get to the major points of the Hero ending. 

The first is the Deconstructed ending. As you question the Princess, you desperately try to figure out what the best way to go forward is for you. And that starts with getting a straight answer from the Princess on what exactly she plans on doing. The operation… does not go well. As you try and push for anything, any sign that she isn’t going to end the world, the same rejoinder comes in, alongside a distorted track. “I just want to make you happy.” The Princess is not an individual anymore, and begins to change shape. But you are locked in with a horrified inability to look away, like one who sees a car accident. And with that, the Princess is a Princess no longer, and the Shifting Mound takes her away. 

There’s also the option of taking the Hero’s advice when confronted with the scenario: to leave. You don’t like what’s going on and you try to do whatever you can to undo the doing. Perhaps surprisingly, it works. And then you’re forced to deal with the cognitive dissonance of the Princess and *that* being the same individual. But you, not without a healthy dose of skepticism, still head upstairs alongside the Princess. In the end, you can’t bring yourself to kill her. Throughout it all, she still has been the beautifully endearing picture of innocence, if a questionable one, and especially with regards to the knife on the table, there is no way you can take it to her chest with no warning, especially after everything you did in the first Chapter. So you leave with her, and the “end of the world” really does come in one fell swoop with the call of the Shifting Mound. You can’t help but wonder if the decision you made was the right one, not really. Like, you still believe she didn’t deserve to die, but maybe, just maybe, it would have been a better ending.

So what if you did kill her? What happens when love *truly* melts away into skepticism. After the continuous question dodging and whatever the… other thing was, this is clearly not an ordinary Princess, it is not the same Princess that you tried to save at the beginning. There is only a sliver of her, a shadow of her former self. Slaying her, well, slaying her is probably doing her a favor. It might be doing the world a favor, too. Maybe she is an individual with malicious intent. And as you take the blade and plunge it into her chest, you instantly know you made the wrong decision. She does not oppose it. She simply lets you kill her with a single tear hanging in her eye, saying “I think this is what you want.” It’s meant to feel dirty and it does, even heartbreaking in the moment, although it is immediately counterbalanced by the effect of the Smitten killing you over it.

I won’t exactly go over Scorched Grey the same way, I think there’s generally only two frames of mind going into it, and that’s either the standard “Hero-Skeptic” framework that I’ll expand on later, or simply a completionist mindset. Plus, it’s technically not The Damsel. Plus I’m lazy. But this is the point where I will try to expand on the theming of each and every route and mindset to go through within the Chapter, and that *will* include the Scorched Grey theming. 

It’s made quite clear from the chapter that one of the primary themes is objectification, the making of the Princess into nothing more than a vehicle to live one’s fantasy into. The taking of an individual and making them into an it. The destruction of humanity by your own desire, and what that says about your desires in the first place. Ironically, this is merely one fourth wall away from the rest of the Princesses, each of them being a piece of fiction that many simply engage with *because* they are an object, but with the Damsel it is directly nodded to within the narrative. One meta-layer is peeled back, if you will. 

Nothing hammers this more home than the entirely jarring line that escapes the Shifting Mound’s lips when you ask about the vessel she holds. Unlike the rest of the fragments, which are all given an indication that they have been fulfilled after the Shifting Mound takes them, the only note she has to say is that the Damsel has “served her purpose”. There is nothing that she wished for, as anyone who has obtained the deconstructed ending can attest to. But even in the more standard runs, she is simply a tool to be used and discarded. And there are three general reactions to this line. 

The first is the hardcore Smitten route’s preferred choice, denial. “The Princess was far more than an object, she had character, she had kindness, she had motivations from the beginning! The narrative is what is wrong, there’s nothing wrong with the Princess. She. Is. Perfect. Not just from a narrative standpoint but a metanarrative one as well. She has depth, she *is* a character.” All in the hopes that if they insist on it enough, it will become true. The Damsel was not designed to be viewed in a vacuum. There are themes that run through her character, and including negative ones, and the denial of them is a far truer denial of the character than any sort of objectification could ever be. 

Then the more moderate Smitten routers get a different response. A slap in the face. They did all of this, they had fun, they laughed with her, they cried when she was taken. They were connected to her, they had a real connection to what she was. One could even accuse them of… loving her. They honest to goodness cared about this Princess, they were invested in her story. Yet, in the end, they also formed her around themselves. They “molded her to love you”. As much as they loved the Princess, that was only because they cut out a piece of the Shifting Mound that they *could* love, a caricature of her true nature. They still took an individual, and despite truly loving her, made her into something that she was not so they could do that very thing. She is not a person. She is a plot device, an individual made to love and be loved with nothing beyond that. She is an object. 

Lastly, those who went on the route of the Hero get that same slap in the face, that selfsame bucket of water poured over their heads, but in a different way. They didn’t try to objectify her. They didn’t want anything of the sort. All they wanted to do was the right thing. Right? Yet even in that desire to do the right thing, they still get that same chilling text from the Shifting Mound. They have built an individual just like those who went on the route of the Smitten. Just a different one. Not one who was built around your “glorious romance”, but rather one built around something of a glorious Romance. The need to be a Hero. The desire to do what was right, to save an unjustly imprisoned Princess. The Princess became a plot device in the end anyway, just one that needed to be saved rather than one who needed to be loved. 

I want to continue off of that. The player is trying to do nothing more than the right thing, he is simply doing what a Hero should. And that determination to do what is right leads to him getting impacted the most by that line in the ending, the line that implies that whatever right he was doing, he was still being driven by selfishness, by that need to be a Hero. That hits the player right within where it hurts, it almost could be said to strike at the one emotional vulnerability of them. To have your hard work, your pain, your desire for what is right to be considered nothing more than the delusions of a Don Quixote tilting at windmills in order to fight giants, just as lost as Smitten, that doesn’t feel too great. It almost minimizes your struggle, and it is genius. You play as a Hero because you want to feel like a Hero, not because the morality of this world means anything to you. It is stripping that meta-layer down one by one.

But objectification is not the only theme present. While it may seem like something of a potpourri topic to throw in, earlier on the server we were talking about the Damsel in particular’s perceptiveness with regards to perception. When the door shuts and locks, it is the first and only time the Princess gets visibly **negative** in any way during the entirety of the Chapter. Even when you kill her, she still does so with nary a frown on her face. Even as a tear rolls down her cheek, she still smiles. But not at the door. The narration points out quite clearly that she frowns. This is, I reiterate, the only thing that happens. And her response is not “we’re stuck down here”, it is not “I’m unable to leave now”. 

What it is happens to be “that’s not supposed to happen”. She recognizes the construct in a way very few allude to within the game. Adding onto that note, within the Scorched Grey chapter, she (correctly) determines the very nature of the construct and that inherent “cycle of violence and despair” inherent to it, even (correctly) determining that the only way to leave was to annihilate that very construct. This is shown even clearer at the other major event at the door. When you ask if the Princess can open the door, the sole question she throws back at you is “Do you think I can?”, and after a response in the affirmative, “Then I can”. In the end, it is quite clear that she is, *heavily* ironically, one of the more aware characters in the game with regards to your circumstance. 

While speaking of the Scorched Grey, I think this route also exemplifies another major theme – the nature of the Princess as a being of perception. All routes exemplify one facet of the Shifting Mound: Spectre represents the gravity of her, Tower her divinity, Prisoner the very incarnation in and of itself of her within the construct, and so on. Damsel has something different, though, and that is that she’s just a slippery little fella. Far more than anybody else, Damsel changes throughout her chapters, in ways more pronounced than anybody else. The Shifting Mound declares that we “molded her to love you”, as I quoted previously. That molding takes stage front and center throughout all of our interactions with her. 

The most obvious example is her deconstruction, which when her sole true motivation (to leave) is discarded, she begins to break down, unable to offer to the player anything beyond the only desire every other Princess has. With the compulsive need to love the player, etched into her core, there is nothing she can do other than try to add to that love, losing herself within the process. But that is not the only time she changes. Because she is willing to give up that freedom in, well, a heartbeat. Attempting to kill her does not lead to any sort of resistance from her. The one goal she had, staying alive and winning her freedom, is out the window despite being (questionably) willing to kill for it in the last chapter. Now, throughout the Scorched Grey, it’s made clear that she did not, in fact, want to die, that she just wanted to be free together, but the complete unwillingness to save her own life is a stark contrast to the first chapter. 

In fact, that perpetually changing nature alongside her being so objectified means that it’s really, *really* hard to figure out her true character. There is very little in her that does not change and very little remaining that isn’t specifically put there by you. She is an eel, wriggling out of your grasp and impossible to pin down, in a large way like the Shifting Mound herself. But… for the most part, there are two facets to her character beyond the already listed themes. And a sharp divide between them. 

Chapter One Damsel and Chapter Two Damsel are not the same person. That’s usually true for most of them, but they also usually have some semblance of similarity between their counterparts. The only exceptions I can think off the top of my head are Spectre and *maaybe* Stranger if you want to count that. The rest of them act as exaggerated versions of the existing individuals shown. Chapter One Adversary likes fights. Chapter Two Adversary likes fights. Chapter One Witch is built on the back of distrust. Chapter Two Witch is built on the back of distrust. Everything lines up nicely. 

That is not the case for the Damsel. The only thing that you can say with both of them is that they are nice and do not want to hurt you. The Chapter One incarnation (henceforth Princess) is a tragedy of a character that doesn’t want to kill you but still must to secure her own life and freedom against a renegade puppeting you. The Chapter Two incarnation (henceforth Damsel) is a Horror-”Feel-Good”-Comedic-Tragic character that shows nothing about the emotional anguish she went through in chapter one. I love both of them, but they have an unmatched disconnect. And I think that sort of adds to the character. Now, there is absolutely a benefit from an emotional through-line (there’s a reason Thorn is my second-favorite chapter), but in this case, only brief touches to the beginning enhance the story. 

The most striking thing is the sense of comedic horror that comes when Damsel just completely ignores any expected trauma from the Princess’s emotional destruction. It, depending on the route you take, either makes you love her character more and more as the humor begins to entrap you, or it begins the process of getting the player unnerved, exactly like the developers wanted. It is a key dividing point in the mindset of the player and the route that they have chosen. The Damsel says nothing about what happened, heck, she barely acknowledges it except to indicate that “You died!” 

Secondly, it sets up Damsel as a sympathetic figure while still allowing her to begin establishing herself. Without the setup from the Princess, the player has no idea how to view Damsel, potentially even seeing her as a less on-the-nose Razor, with her comedically hiding her sinister intentions. The Princess allows the player to begin on a note that the Princess is *actually* friendly rather than simply pretending to be so. At the same time, it’s divorced enough that apart from that frame of reference at the beginning, Damsel is still allowed to shine within her own character. 

Lastly, and most importantly, it sets her up for the Scorched Grey. The guilt at causing the death of an innocent and the belief that you would be unable to cause the death of an innocent yourself leads her to blame the construct and attempt to bring it down, which seals your fate in the third Damsel chapter, the only time where the two chapters meet in a beautiful climax of Passion going too far and causing pain, in attempt of running away from that very thing, morphing into something that not even the Smitten is able to remain devoted to in an awful tragedy of love being not enough in the end. 

Wait, wait, wait. Did I hear “the end” being spoken? At this time of year? Localized entirely within this essay? Well then, it’s time to talk about what puts this saga at pure perfection, shall we? I probably could just use the awesome power of Ctrl + V to get the desired effect, but I still do want to offer my narration, so I’ll compromise and do a bit of both. “Your lover drives a stake into your body. And another. And another. And another. And another. Do I miss your heart because I cannot stand to see it go? But the stakes meant nothing to you. You had a desire, and you set that desire free, you lifting me and me lifting you, forever and ever and ever, consumed by true belief, there was nothing that could hold us back.” 

Do I even need to explain why that’s so good? Definitively the best poem in the end, it isn’t even close, especially when coupled with Ms. Goodnight’s awe-inspiring delivery. Did I say that the Scorched Grey was the perfect synthesis of the Princess and the Damsel? I was lying. This is. Every word so lovingly placed, the language sounds like it comes from the pen of God Himself. It is emotionally resonant, the art is beautiful, I have not run into such a short piece of dialogue that outdoes it. Gonna be honest, mostly just wrote up this essay to gush about it. Even now, it is considered by most everyone to be one of the best lines of dialogue in a game filled with magnificent ones. 

And the other one, that of the Scorched Grey. It’s simpler, ironically. “I kill you. You kill me. Back and forth we go, faster and faster and faster. I kill you. You kill me. Hollow eyes watch from the dry corners of a memory. A home built on all of the futures that were supposed to be, preserved until the moment of reunion. The fire of the heart sets it all ablaze. I kill you and me.”

This, this right here is one of the most slept on ending poems and it’s not even funny. So fantastic at expressing the heartbreak inherent to the Scorched Grey’s character. I don’t know how you can see the line “A home built on all the futures that were supposed to be”, especially with the Scorched Grey dead and charring in a wedding gown, and not feel *something*. It’s not as good as the standard Damsel stuff, but then again, nothing is. It’s still deserving of more praise than it currently receives, and one of my top three ending poems of all time, only edged out by Prisoner. Gosh, this game belongs in a museum. 

Seems I need to debunk some stuff that happens to get a lot of traction regarding those who speculate on Damsel, too. First of all, her character motivation is not guilt nor gratitude. That sort of thing works incredibly well in fanworks, and I’m happy to see it ~~because that means I get to see Damsel in a fanwork~~. It has little to no backing within canon. Damsel is a chapter about the only motivations for the Princess being those put in place by the objectification of the player. There is nothing regarding anything beyond that, and it detracts from the existing, well-elucidated themes that are actually within the chapter. The only sort of substance to them is both Chapter 1 Princess and Scorched Grey indicating guilt for killing you, but that is almost entirely repudiated within the actual Chapter 2. 

Speaking of the Scorched Grey, another thing I saw somewhat extensively is that you somehow “taught her” that killing is the way to love one another, and that’s why she kills you in Chapter 3, and I honestly do not know how that gained any traction at all. It’s pretty clear that she views all the death as a pretty terrible and messed up thing and only kills the two of you to escape the cycle of death. It’s spoken of as a means to an end, not an end in and of itself. I am genuinely confused on how this got started, because it really just… opposes the main *in-narrative* themes of the Chapter??? Like, you don’t even have to analyze it, it’s just within the text, plain and simple. 

Anyway, I deeply apologize for the length of this once again, look forward to an appendix when Pristine Cut comes out. I’ve already played it because my uncle works at Black Tabby, but I don’t want to spoil it for you gents. If my opinions change massively after playing through the new update from today, I will change that too. Anyway, Damsel is the best character, literally does not do a single thing wrong within any of her chapters, has definitively the best Shifty stuff, and you should invest in her. As more people vocally become willing to throw money at anything related to Damsel, the likelier it is that we get Damsel merch. I need it so badly. Please. Anyway, if anything stands out to you or you disagree, I am begging you to tell me to get my act together and explain what I said wrong, so do that. Also please. 

[canarysage]

…make a psd?

this is a question i get pretty routinely, and i’m going to tell you upfront: there is no one way to make a psd. there’s no ‘better’ way, no ‘easier’ method, you just have to figure it out yourself.

with that said, this post is going to be how i, personally, make my psds, just for the sake of reference. my way isn’t better or worse than anyone else’s—it’s just the way i do things ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

i. making a showcase/moodboard

depending on the psd you want to achieve, your moodboard will probably look different—if you’re making a blue psd it will be mostly blue, if you’re making a psd based on a certain character or card set it will be based around that, etc. i made myself a general showcase that i test my psds on that includes both irl images and darker skin characters, because i like for my psds to work for those purposes most of the time. my showcase is below if you’d like to use it!

it’s best to include sources you edit frequently so you know what works on them and what doesn’t but how the moodboard looks exactly is up to you ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i also recommend using swatchies (original by zeroresources on d*viantart) as long as you bear in mind that swatchies is not a great guideline for actual dark skin

ii. creating the base

actual step two is creating a folder but that takes like two seconds. do make a folder though or you will be sad.

after making a folder, start making the base of your psd; whatever the foundation is going to be. depending on how you want your psd to look, this will look very different. i personally always start off with a gradient map, just to get things going

my settings for this are the default black and white gradient map set to reverse, and it’s set to blending mode soft light at 35% opacity. i typically do something in the range of 20-45% opacity depending on how i want it to look

i’m honestly not sure where i picked up this habit but it does make it a little easier to get things going for me personally. it’s a simple change but it’s a good start. if you want higher contrast you can do the same thing but without reversing the gradient map

next thing i do when creating a base is add a selective color layer, which helps things pick up the pace. i’m too lazy to write it all down but these are my settings:

worlds ugliest collage so i don’t max out my images LMFAO apologies. obviously depending on what colors you want to focus on this will look different. for this one i completely axed magenta and emphasized blue and red/yellow. i also maxed out the black in white, which is extremely typical in my psds. this is what our psd looks like now:

pretty different already, right? nice!

next thing i typically do is another selective color layer. it’s typically pretty similar to the first, but once again that depends on the psd! the worlds worst collage again:

pretty much the same but a little different. and our results:

as you can see, this is pretty saturated and a little all over the place. not to worry—let’s move onto the next step!

iii. let’s get serious

this step varies a lot depending on what my psd needs, but because this one is pretty sayurated right now and that seems to be my main problem, i’m going to add a photo filter in a light grayish-blue to help desaturate and cool it down

(i unchecked preserve luminosity here because i think it looks neat. i don’t recommend doing that if you’re using a darker color bc it gets hard to see, but you can do whatever forever)

obviously this isn’t the only way to desaturate but i find it fun. observe:

definitely better, at least to me, but still not great. we’re going to add another selective color layer bc the skintones look kinda wack. welcome back world’s worst collage:

i only adjusted some of the colors in this one because i wanted to fix specific problems; namely that the darker skin tones were too dark and ashy.

mission accomplished

with that done, it’s time for hue/saturation! for funsies ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ this part i just had some fun with. a new collage:

and the results:

purple! this wasn’t what i originally had in mind but it was much more fun to do tbh LMAO i decided to turn the cyan/blue into purple because it looked better in my head

iv. okay now get silly again

now that the main meat—so to speak—of our psd is done, we can add some fun layers. if you want ideas for this, i have a post about it, but what i’m gonna add as my first silly layer is channel mixer, which is one of my personal favorite layers

pretty simple adjustments for channel mixer honestly ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ but i thought this would look fun. as a general rule of thumb i don’t mess with the red channel so much because it tends to screw over my skintones, but, as with anything, you’re free to do whatever forever

next fun layer i’m gonna add is a noise gradient map, also just for funsies

i randomized until i got a nice pink-ish kinda one. i was hoping for blue but all the blue ones were too green and i got impatient LOL

a little fucked but for sure fun. i set the gradient map to soft light at about 15% opacity. it gave the psd a fun texture and a bit of extra warmth

v. finishing touches

sometimes i add a couple more layers, sometimes i add less, but this psd feels about done so imma wrap it up. i typically don’t save my psds as the showcase for my storage’s sake, so i’m gonna grab something to use as an icon. i typically go ahead and size it at about 300x300

hello, haruka! once i have my icon set i duplicate the folder into the new project and name both the project and the folder. how you name it is up to you, i usually either use a random word generator or just whatever comes to mind. in this case, i’m just naming it ‘tutorial psd’ lol

then go to file and save as psd, bada bing bada boom you’ve got a psd ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

as i said at the beginning, there’s no one way to make a psd. this isn’t the only process or even the best one, it’s just how i personally work. the best way to make a psd on your own is fuck around and find out <3 canarysage out

…so that’s how you do it.

P.S. the psd i made here will be posted under the tag #tutorial psd. you’re free to poke around in it and use it as per usual. if you want to copy it, feel free, but don’t claim it’s your own or repost it as your work. thanks!

P.P.S. wondering about adjustment layers? see photopea for dummies. wondering about something i haven’t covered yet? shoot me an ask ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

[hbyrde36]

Times Like These (The Anniversary Edition)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Hold Your Peace

WC: 4695 | AO3 link

“Are you sure you have it?”

At the sound of Chrissy’s voice Eddie’s eyes snapped open, though he didn’t exactly remember closing them. For some reason he was a bit more disoriented this time when he–

…This time?

There she stood in the middle of the room again. Chrissy—alive, and breathing, and beautiful, and…

Holy shit!

Was this really happening again? 

Had he, despite his own stupidity, earned another chance at redemption?  

In an instant he was across the room, placing gentle hands on either side of her face. She blinked up at him, eyes wide, too surprised at the gesture to move away. Eddie knew he only had a few precious moments until Vecna would take her again. There was no time to explain anything, but he had to ask the one simple question that’d been plaguing him since the beginning of the last loop.

The last loop. 

Jesus, he was really buying into this thing wasn’t he. Hard to deny it when the proof was standing right in front of him.  

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart, and I know this isn’t gonna make any sense right now, but I need you to humor me, okay? Can you tell me your favorite song? Please?” 

He wasn’t above begging. At this point he would do just about anything to not have to watch this poor girl die again in the most awful way imaginable. 

“Oh!” Chrissy squeaked, furrowing her brow and sputtering for a moment before answering, “We Belong? By P-P- Pat Benatar?”

She said it like a question, as if she were unsure that it was the right answer, but Eddie knew it had more to do with the odd circumstances of the situation at hand.

He smiled broadly, pleasantly surprised at the answer—surprised to have gotten an answer at all, really. He stroked a thumb across her cheek once, still in a bit of disbelief that she was real, and let his hands fall. 

“Pat Benatar, huh?” He said, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded to himself, already thinking furiously about how he was going to pull this off.  "Okay, yeah, I can work with that. Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Eddie bounded to his bedroom, bypassing the black and red Warlock hanging from its place of honor on the wall, and instead grabbed for his old acoustic guitar that was sitting in the corner collecting dust. 

He rushed back out, unsurprised to find Chrissy already in the enemy’s thrall. As her feet slowly lifted off the ground he did his best to recall the song. It still played on the radio all the time but Pop-Rock wasn’t exactly his style, and he had a habit of switching stations whenever the ballad came on. He hummed out what little he could remember and strummed a few chords to get a feel for the notes, working in the few lyrics he knew as he tried to muddle through his own uniquely awful rendition of the song. 

He faltered for a second, almost dropping the guitar as her first limb bent back with an audible crack. He choked on a sob, but did his best to continue to sing and play through his tears and the tightening of his throat. 

It wasn’t working. He knew it wasn’t working but still he kept on. It was the only help he had to offer now, and on the off chance that she could hear him, he hoped it would give her some comfort to know she wasn’t alone in her last terrifying moments.

He didn’t stop until her lifeless body fell, landing hard on the carpet in front of him.

Eddie screamed his frustration wordlessly as he knelt down beside what was left of Chrissy Cunningham. A girl he had barely known, who he hadn’t shared more than two words with before all this shit started, but who he would give anything to be able to save. 

She’d done nothing wrong. She deserved to live, and selfishly he yearned for the opportunity to get to know her. They hadn’t shared much, a brief conversation at the picnic table that had mostly consisted of him goofing around to try and make her smile—to cheer her up because it’d been obvious to him right away that she was struggling with something. He thought they could be friends, given the opportunity. The Freak and The Cheerleader, weirder things had happened.  

“God.” Eddie gasped, gripping onto her hand that was already growing cold. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t do better. I… “ He trailed off, letting her hand go as he rose stiffly to his feet, rubbing aggressively at the wetness on his face.  

“Next time, I- I’ll learn the song if it kills me.” He let out a wry laugh at himself and the irony of his choice of phrase, looking back at her one last time before walking out the door. 

-

He’d promised Dustin that he would tell him as soon as possible about the loops, and briefly Eddie considered heading straight to the kid’s house. But, it was getting late. He didn’t want to scare Henderson’s mom, and truth be told he needed a little time to get his shit together anyway. 

Might as well let the little guy get one last good night’s sleep in before all hell broke loose.  

Eddie parked his van in the woods and walked the short distance from its hiding spot to Rick’s house, just as he had twice over, using the key under the mat to get inside. He knew he should probably get some rest himself, having not had more than a few scattered hours of sleep here and there in… christ, like two weeks now? 

Did sleep debt accumulate in a time loop or was the gauge on his fuel tank reset each time he went back? Not that it mattered, he was too keyed up and nervous about how in the hell he was going to explain all this to everyone tomorrow to sleep.  

Instead he tore through the drawers in Rick’s kitchen until he found a notebook and a pen, and spent the rest of the night writing down every single detail he could remember about what had happened, or would happen, over the next few days—committing it all to paper in case his nerves got the best of him and he forgot something important. 

At dawn he reluctantly moved to the boathouse. From all his time spent here so far he knew it was unlikely that anyone would notice him sneaking around, at least not until Jason and his goons showed up, but at this point he was running on autopilot and figured, better safe than sorry. 

Eddie paced inside the small shack restlessly until finally he heard them, voices outside, Dustin, Steve, and the others calling his name. This time when they approached the door he didn’t hide, he called out, “yeah, Henderson. It’s me… uh, come on in.”

Dustin barged right in at his reply, but was quickly pushed aside by Steve, moving past to get between him and Eddie. Max and Robin eased in behind them and closed the door.

Steve eyed him warily, taking on a protective stance, and Eddie couldn’t really blame the guy.

He also knew exactly how fucked up this was about to get, so he took a big step back and raised his hands, wiggling his fingers to show they were empty. No reason to make Steve more skittish than he already was. “See, Harrington? I’m unarmed.”

“I told you.” Dustin grumbled as he muscled his way past Steve, walking right up to Eddie and throwing his arms around him without hesitation.

It knocked the wind out of him in more ways than one. 

Eddie was a touchy guy by nature, always ruffling his friends’ hair, or throwing an arm over their shoulders, and it wasn’t like Dustin hadn’t hugged him before, but somehow this felt different.

He hadn’t even explained himself yet. Dustin had absolutely no proof of his innocence and yet here the kid was gripping him tight, face buried in his chest as he mumbled something that sounded like, “I’m so glad we found you, I know you didn’t do it.” 

There was also the fact that he’d died in this kid’s arms twice now, and Eddie was pretty sure he’d be hearing those heartbreaking cries in his dreams for the rest of his life, however long that might be. 

Eddie slowly lowered his hands as he kept eye contact with Steve, trying to convey with his eyes that he was okay, that he wasn’t going to hurt anyone.

“I’m glad you found me too, buddy,” He said, smiling sadly to himself as he patted Dustin’s back.

The kid pulled away a moment later, gesturing at everyone else. “Eddie, these are my friends Steve, Robin, and Max”

“Yeah,” Eddie snorted. It was funny enough to ease a bit of the tightness in his chest. Even if he hadn’t been through multiple rounds of hell with these people, Dustin had to realize he never shut up about them. ”Yeah, Henderson. I know who they are.”

Steve was looking at him apprehensively still, like he might snap at any minute. He wished he knew what to say to make the guy chill out. 

“No need to look so stressed, Steve. I swear, I didn’t–” Eddie paused, swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat, voice shaking when he went on. “I didn’t kill her.”

The feelings that he’d been swallowing back all night started to bubble to the surface as he thought about Chrissy, and he honestly wasn’t sure how he was going to do this without falling apart. 

“It’s okay.” Robin said, stepping out from behind Steve for the first time and approaching him. “We just want to know what happened.”

“We want to help.” Max added.

Eddie nodded absently, clearing his throat. “I know,” he said, and couldn’t help noticing how Robin and Steve shared a confused look at that. “And I'll tell you everything, I just, uh– I need a quick word with Dustin first? Alone.”

The kid tilted his head, but shrugged and motioned to the far corner. 

Before either of them could move, however, Steve stepped between them again. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Dude, come on! It’s fine. It’s just Eddie!”

Steve gave him an unimpressed look and assumed what Eddie had begun to think of as his– mom stance—hands on his hips accompanied by a disappointed glare. “I don’t see why he can’t say whatever it is he needs to say to you in front of all of us.”

“You’re being an asshole.” Dustin spat. “Eddie is my friend. He doesn’t know you, and maybe there’s something he doesn’t want to share with the whole class, hmm?” 

Steve pursed his lips, his face and body language making it clear that he had no intention of budging on this. “I’m sorry. I know it might seem harsh, but it’s my responsibility to protect you and I can’t do that if he’s keeping secrets.”

Eddie sighed heavily, this whole thing was already so fucking exhausting. 

He got where Steve was coming from. To him, Eddie Munson was still nothing more than The Freak. A drug dealing super-senior who regularly stood on lunch tables to perform tirades about the dangers of conformity. He didn’t know yet that they would come to trust and rely on each other in a way neither of them would have ever expected, Or, how Eddie had, against his better judgment, jumped into Lover’s Lake and helped save him from a swarm of Demobats– twice. Steve couldn’t know that they bonded a little when they were stuck in that awful place, or that before he died, Eddie had started to consider them friends.

He understood all of that, but it still sucked. 

“Fine, we’ll do it your way.” Eddie said, and plopped himself down on the floor. He was too tired to do this shit standing up.  

The others joined him, sitting in some semblance of a circle as Eddie began his tale. 

He started off easy, matter-of-factly telling the same old story about Chrissy approaching him to buy drugs, and how he hadn’t had what she was looking for on him, so they made arrangements to meet later after the game. He detailed most of what happened at the trailer, keeping the part about trying to play the song for her to himself for now. 

The silence was thick when he was done, and Eddie let it settle around him for a moment as he prepared for what he needed to say next. He saw Dustin open his mouth to speak and it gave him an idea about how to convince them of the truth.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Eddie said quickly, before the kid could get a word out.

“You really don’t. Look, you know how–”

Eddie cut him off. “Actually, uh, I do. Fuck… “ He trailed off and took a deep breath. “This is gonna be, like, really hard to believe, but I need you to let me say it– all of it, before you ask any questions. Okay?”

The foursome all turned, looking away from him for the first time since he’d started talking, to share a loaded look with each other. Eddie, on the other hand, only had eyes for Steve, knowing it was his approval he needed. That he would likely be the hardest to convince.  

“Okay.” Steve said with a little nod. 

Eddie dropped his eyes to the floor and let it all out in a rush. “I know all about the Upside Down. I know Will Byers was taken by a demogorgon in ‘83. I know about the mind flayer and Billy Hargrove, and that …something happened with Steve and Robin involving some Russians at the mall. Though honestly, I’m still waiting to get more details on that one.” He paused briefly, chancing a look up to see how everyone was taking his little monologue. 

“I know all these things because you told me, before.”

Steve looked absolutely livid, but the fire in his eyes wasn’t aimed at Eddie, it was Dustin he was staring daggers at. 

“Damnit, Henderson!” Steve shouted, running a hand through his hair roughly. “I can’t believe you told him all that stuff, man! You know we can’t do that! Think of the danger you put yourself in by blabbing, not to mention the danger you put Eddie in by telling him! I mean, shit! Did you not stop to consider what sort of threats were included in those NDAs we all signed?”

Eddie was more than a little taken aback by Steve’s apparent worry for his safety. 

“I’m touched by the concern, Harrington. Really I am, but Henderson didn’t tell me all that stuff until I was already involved. You all told me things.” Eddie hesitated, raking a hand down his face. This was getting messy, he needed to just spit it out. “I… I’m stuck in a time loop. I’ve lived last night and the next few days twice over now. This is my third go-around.”

He slipped the little notebook that he’d filled from cover to cover out of his pocket, and tossed it to Dustin, who caught it clumsily.

“When I got here last night, I wrote it all down. Everything that’s going to happen. Well, the stuff I was there for at least.” Eddie chewed nervously on his thumbnail, darting his gaze to each of them in turn and taking in their disbelieving looks.

“I know this is crazy, and you probably don’t believe me, but I swear it’s the truth. I didn’t tell anyone last time until near the end because–” He stopped abruptly, blowing out a long breath. If he told them what he’d really thought they’d think he was certifiable for sure. “Because, I honestly wasn’t sure what the hell was going on. I told you, Dustin, at the last minute and you made me promise to tell you again as soon as possible if I got another chance. So here I am, telling you.”

A long moment went by where no one spoke, and Eddie was sure that he had botched this whole thing. There was no way they believed him. He still had Henderson’s family secret in his back pocket, and he’d pull it out if he had to, but not in front of all of them.

“What resets the loop, Eddie?” Dustin asked suddenly—quietly, a slight quiver to his voice. 

Eddie looked the kid in the eye and knew without a doubt that not only did he believe him about the loops, but he had already done the math, figured out the catch. Too smart for his own good sometimes, really, but in this case it was almost a relief. As much as he would have liked to protect Dustin from this particular truth, there was no way around it. 

“I died.” Eddie said, eyes falling once again to the floor, unable to face Dustin as he confirmed his suspicion. 

“We go into the Upside Down to fight the bad guy, and I die. Then, I open my eyes and I’m back in my trailer, minutes before Chrissy gets attacked.”

Dustin said nothing else in response, quiet in a way Eddie had never seen. Max and Robin just looked like they wanted to throw up, and Steve looked skeptical, obviously gearing up to argue, or at the very least ask some follow up questions. Which was fair, he supposed.

Before Steve could so much as open his mouth though, Dustin shoved the notebook in his face.

“You read it first, Steve. Just give him a chance.”

“Fine.” Steve said, snatching the book out of Dustin’s hands and cracking it open, taking one last hard look at Eddie before starting to read through it. 

As Steve read, Eddie could almost see the animosity draining out of him. The scowl that had been stuck on his face since arrival smoothed out into a concerned frown, and worry lines appeared at the corner of his eyes. It was a good sign, but as the other boy turned the final page, an awful thought occurred to Eddie, and he realized he’d made a huge mistake. 

“Wait. Steve, stop. I think I fucked up here.” Eddie said, wringing his hands. “I shouldn’t–I shouldn’t have told you any of this. Not yet.”

“Wait, what?!” Dustin shouted. 

“Why?” Steve asked.

“I swore to Chrissy that I would save her, I have to go back. I have to–” He cut himself off leaving the word unsaid. “I shouldn't have burdened you all with this shit, not when I knew I had to do it all over again. I just… I wasn’t thinking. I promised Dustin right as–”

Steve cut him off mid-spiral, scooting across the floor to sit in front of him. 

“Eddie, man. Listen, I understand, believe me I do.” Steve paused, fidgeting with the notebook with one hand while reaching out with the other to place it tentatively on Eddie’s shoulder, and even through all his layers of clothes he could feel the other boy's warmth sink into him.

“You said you know about what happened to Will in ‘83, but what you might not know is… that same year Nancy’s friend Barb was also taken by a Demogorgon. She– died in my pool, the Upside Down version of it anyway. She died on my watch and-” Steve hesitated, taking a deep breath before going on. 

“I get the kind of guilt you must be feeling right now, okay? I lived it– am still living it, but if we have the chance to save you and kill whoever this Vecna creep is? We should take it. What if this loop thing has a limit? What if this time you don’t get to come back? Do you know what that would do to us when we’ll know we could have saved you?!”

Eddie couldn’t help feeling a certain way about Steve sharing that with him. In all the days, and repeats of days, that they’d spent together so far, it was the first time the other boy had told him that story. 

“I get what you’re saying, Steve. Shit, it’s pretty much the same thing I'm trying to say. I'm sorry that happened to you, but tell me something, and be honest. If you had even the slightest chance to go back and save Barb, even at your own risk, wouldn’t you take it?”

Steve’s eyes, which had hardened again in frustration by the end of his own speech, softened as he took in Eddie’s words. He gave a single reluctant nod of agreement and squeezed his shoulder before letting go. Eddie missed the contact immediately. 

“But you can’t! That’s like, suicide!” Dustin screeched, probably feeling a little, or a lot betrayed by Steve taking his side. 

“Not if I plan on coming back it's not. Sorry, Henderson, I know you don’t like it, but this is my choice, alright? I’m not leaving Chrissy behind. End of story.”

“B-b- but...” the kid sputtered.

“Stop.” Steve cut in. “He’s right, Dustin. I hate it, but it’s his decision. This thing is happening to him, and even if we want to help, we have to respect that and hope we get another do-over.” Steve sighed, turning his attention back to Eddie.

“So, how do you wanna do this?” He asked, looking deep into his eyes, the air between them suddenly impossibly heavy. 

Because Steve knew what was coming now. 

He’d just finished reading about all the fucked up shit that was about to happen and now he was looking to Eddie for direction. Jesus H. Christ, he was really regretting not thinking this through, because the only answer he had was to do nothing… keep everything the same to make sure that the outcome was the same, and that meant putting them all through the ringer. It meant Steve getting hurt, nearly drowning, nearly dying– again.  

“I know it’s not fair to ask this, now that you’ve read that.” Eddie said, gesturing at the little notebook still resting in Steve's hand. “but I think the best thing to do– the only thing to do, is to let things happen the way they have been for now. Not tell the others, keep it between the five of us.”

“I’ve been through worse.” Steve shrugged, seemingly unbothered save for a tightness around his eyes that Eddie might have missed if he wasn’t paying attention. 

“Besides, if it works we won’t remember any of it anyway, right?” He continued. “And then we can finish this for good. You save Chrissy, and we’ll save you.”

“If you're sure.” Eddie said, offering him an out. If Steve really didn't want to do this he wouldn’t force him, he could always try and find another way to… cause the reset.

“Yeah, I'm sure.”

-

Dustin continued to argue with both of them for a while, but now that Steve was on his side Eddie knew that was it. Eventually the kid quieted down, accepting the fact that he wasn’t going to change anyone’s mind. 

As the others prepared to leave, knowing they needed to find Nancy and Lucas to let them know the Upside Down was back, and maybe try calling the Byers in California, Steve lagged behind, using giving the notebook back to Eddie as an excuse. 

“Do you need anything?”

“Might be a long shot, but could you get me a walkman and a Pat Benatar tape?”

Steve pursed his lips, thinking, but it only took him a moment to put it together.

“Chrissy’s favorite song?” He asked.

“Yeah. I went into it this time knowing I had a second with her before the attack, so I asked. I did try—to play it for her, I mean. I didn’t have the tape, it’s not exactly my type of music, y’know? I'd heard the song once or twice though, so I gave it a go on my guitar, but it wasn’t good enough.”

Steve gave him a small sympathetic smile. “Robin likes Pat Benatar too, and I actually have a few of her tapes in the car. Headphones too, but how will that help? You won’t still have it with you after–”

“No, but I learn a lot of songs by ear. if I listen to it over and over again now while I can, when the loop restarts I should be able to play it for her, get her out like you’ll do for Red.”

Steve raised his eyebrows and actually looked a little impressed. “You’re-” He cut himself off, as if changing what he was about to say at the last second. “You’re not anything like I thought you’d be.”

Eddie let out his first genuine laugh in far too long. It looked like they'd be doing the same song and dance every time. Of all the things he had to repeat, getting to know the real Steve was the one thing he didn’t mind. 

“Right back at ya big boy.” Eddie said, throwing Steve a wink before he went back out to his car.

-

Eddie listened to the song dozens of times over the following days, concentrating on learning every single word and note as a distraction from everything else that was happening around him. 

He was worried at first, when he was finally brought into the fold with the others who weren’t privy to the conversation in the boathouse. But Steve was true to his word. Neither he or Dustin, Robin, or Max, said anything about Eddie’s predicament, and he never once complained or so much as gave Eddie a dirty look, even when he was grabbed by those vines and dragged through the lake, down and out the other side. He did catch Dustin giving him a few sideways looks here and there, but the kid said nothing. 

Eddie was grateful for that. He didn’t exactly want to die. He certainly wasn’t looking forward to feeling the bats gnawing on his skin again, and he didn't need any outside influence making him lose his nerve when they were so close to the end.  

When the time came, Eddie considered not cutting the rope. It wasn't like it stopped Dustin the first or second time, not to mention that he hurt his leg dropping down from the hole without it, but what if that small delay was the only thing that kept the kid safe? It wasn’t worth it, just in case. If something went wrong he could live with, or rather, die with knowing Dustin would suffer only a sprained ankle and not something worse. 

It was a bit more difficult this time to find the will to fight so hard against the oncoming hoard, when all he wanted was for it to be over so he could see if the third time would be the charm, but he was too worried that any deviation from what he knew would change things. Maybe he had to die in just the right place, at just the right time, to set things in motion to send him back.

So he ran, and he fought, and he bled, and found that the pain didn’t bother him quite so much anymore. He was getting used to it. 

It might have been his imagination but Dustin’s limp looked more pronounced this time as he approached Eddie’s broken body. He felt horrible for causing this kid, his friend, so much suffering.

Dustin fell to his knees next to Eddie and began to sob uncontrollably, and for the millionth time Eddie wished he could somehow spare him this. He could only hope that the loop would start over again and no one but him would have to remember.

“Don’t cry, buddy. Please.” Eddie forced out around the blood filling his mouth. “I’m gonna fix it.” He coughed, struggling to take his final breaths.

“I love you, man.” Eddie said. 

Dustin bowed his head. “I love you too.”

Chapter 3

Thanks to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend and cheerleader.

Reblogs are always appreciated and if you want to be tagged, just let me know! I'd be more than happy to do so 💜

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[hoshinoyozora]

Roses in the Thorns

🖤 Pairing: Yandere! Malleus Draconia x Female! Fae! Reader

💛 Word Count: 2,3k+

❤ Warnings: -

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Also, don’t ask for a sequel unless I like the story enough to write one. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!

***

I haven’t seen ch 7 yet, but I heard Mal causes snow too when he’s upset? Idk let’s just say he does that here XD Also the meaning of the title is that rose often denotes romance, but is it really romance in their relationship? @married-to-google-translater

Malleus didn’t really like going home.

Of course, he missed his grandmother that worked hard in his stead. His little rose garden waiting to be tended and admired. And his palace that held the comforting yet no less fascinating gargoyles and grotesques. But he didn’t miss the loneliness of his status and species, the fear from people, and you.

The fiancée that his grandmother set up from some Duke a few centuries ago.

It wasn’t as if he hated you, per se. You did your job as a princess and a fiancée very well, perhaps a bit too well, strengthening Queen Maleficia’s fondness for you. She, out of all people, knew just how lonely he was, regardless of his attempts to hide it, and you were more than ready to spend the next centuries with him. Malleus knew he should be delighted, grateful even, that his fiancée wasn’t a shy or fearful thing. But if he had to pinpoint why he disliked you, he might not be able to answer it quickly.

“Welcome back. I miss you.”

You hugged him tighter and closer than any royal couple had done, than any royal couple was supposed to be doing. You hummed contentedly against his shoulder, trying to sway him side by side. You weren’t fazed by his rigid body, however, and merely smiled up at him.

“The castle feels so lonely without you, you know.”

Malleus squinted slightly. He never really knew if you were jabbing at his little insecurity or if you genuinely felt that way. Maybe he was reading too much into your actions, maybe he wasn’t. Who would’ve known?

“I see. That’s unfortunate.”

A neutral answer; neither sympathizing nor mocking. He pushed you away, gently as to avoid any suspicion from the unseen eyes and ears that your relationship wasn’t as harmonious as it should be.

“Avoidant, as usual.” you mused, trailing after him with your hands clasped behind you. “But allow me to accompany you a bit more, Malleus. Fortunately, I have a loose schedule for today.”

Your smile widened just as your eyes glowed in the dimly-lit hallway.

“Because I knew you’d come back to me.”

Ah, that’s right. He disliked you because of your confidence. While it didn’t exactly tiptoe the line of arrogance, it was still annoying how you thought he favored you any more than he favored other women desperate for his hand in marriage. Then again, he couldn’t really fault you for trying. A cold, formal marriage might be the standard for many royal couples, but a harmonious one – both in public and private – would greatly benefit your relationship and image.

And yet…

“I’m tired. I’d like to rest for now.”

Your confidence wasn’t the main reason behind his antipathy.

“Are you sulking, Malleus?”

It was your perceptiveness. Your ability to make him feel naked, vulnerable, tamed. Lilia had that power too, but he was his caretaker and retainer. He cared about him. While you? You were an enigma. A wildcard. A stranger that his grandmother was forced to marry soon.

“What makes you think so?”

Calmly, you closed the doors of his bedroom.

“Why, your face says it all, of course.”

Instinctively, Malleus touched his face. Was he really that expressive? Lilia could read him, but once again, he was his caretaker and retainer.

You chuckled, “Are you thinking about whether you’re being very expressive right now?”

His eyes widened slightly.

“Well, you’re not. But I’ve spent centuries observing you, so I can pick up all your emotions now.” You peeked through your lashes coyly. “So, did you finally find some joy in that school?”

Malleus resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably. He shouldn’t be surprised considering that you were his fiancée, but he knew that had you were more blatant with your ‘observation’, he’d think of you as another Rook Hunt instead.

“I didn’t go there to search for amusement.”

“Oh, really? Not even a new friend?”

“The people there are mostly pleasant.”

You simpered, eyes softening slightly.

“You know I’m not talking about schoolmates.”

“Quit talking in riddles. If you don’t have any business left to discuss, you may leave my chamber at once.”

“Always so cold to me, and yet, you’re strangely warm to that magicless human.”

Stiffening, Malleus whipped around and gripped your arms.

“How did you know about Yuu?”

“Are you really asking me that? I’m your fiancée. I ought to know about your matters, too. How else can I help you if you encounter problems?”

“I already have Lilia with me. I don’t need your intervention.”

You cocked your head in mock questioning.

“Really? Just like how you’re barely invited to any event, including the ceremony? Or how your own retainers forget about you sometimes?”

Malleus ground his teeth.

“I suggest you to watch your tongue if you don’t want to lose it.”

“Oh, but what would people think if they found out that you punished me due to a simple couple spat? And we don’t need to imagine how Her Majesty would react to this. She loves me, you see, and you know it too.”

“Don’t think you’re invincible, [Name].”

“Maybe.” You shrugged carelessly. “But I’m the reason why people started to look at you in a better light now. If I were to, say, complain that you’re being hurtful towards me, they’d sooner believe me over a big, scary dragon.”

His grip tightened. As much as he hated to admit it, you were right. Ever since you got engaged to him, you often invited him to events and used the power of social pressure by displaying affections to him. Of course, Malleus had no choice but to comply and requite the unwanted gestures. And those nobles, foolish little creatures despite the intelligence they touted, immediately believed the act and spread the news all over the country. Now, everyone knew you both as an unconventionally loving couple; surprising but no less heartwarming.

But he could care about his image later.

“Whatever you do, do not harm Yuu in any way.”

You huffed a laugh.

“You wound me, Malleus. When have I ever treat humans so unjustly? They’re a part of our people, too.”

Malleus squinted and opened his mouth to retort, only to close it back. What was he going to say again? That he thought you’d hurt Yuu out of ‘jealousy’ of his friendship? Thinking about it was silly enough; saying it aloud would make him a bigger fool. You probably couldn’t feel jealous, not when you seemed so complacent even in the face of threat. What would you respond later? Another jab? Another sneer?

***

“Lilia, are you the one who told Princess [Name] about me being excluded to school events?”

The cup hovered as Lilia paused to process the question. Peeking up through his lashes, he discerned Malleus’ agitated expression.

“Why, even if I don’t tell her, she can still find out somewhere else.”

“You know I don’t like it when she meddles in my affairs,” Malleus grumbled. “and now she knows about Yuu’s existence too. What if she hurts them?”

“I’ve been observing her, and never once did she mistreat humans. She might seem like a know-it-all, but she’s only trying to do her duty. Let’s not be too paranoid.”

Despite Lilia’s attempt to reassure him, Malleus couldn’t subdue the agitation in his chest. You were too unpredictable, in a way that might just be worse than Lilia. Even if the said fae wasn’t his retainer, Malleus would still trust him to be around Yuu due to his wish for a peaceful life.

Unfortunately, his anxiety was proven true when he spotted you talking with Yuu in the Ramshackle yard at one night.

“Oh, hi, Tsunotarou!”

You glanced at them in bemusement yet devoid of surprise, as if you knew the nickname was harmless. On one hand, Malleus was relieved to know that you wouldn’t scold or punish them for discourtesy like Sebek would’ve done. But on the other hand, he was still angry at your insolence.

“Pardon us, Yuu, but I’d like to speak to her first.”

“Oh, yes. You guys are, uh, dating, right? Go ahead.”

Squinting, Malleus grabbed your wrist and dragged you to a secluded spot.

“Why did you tell them that we’re ‘dating’?! And what are you doing here?! Why didn’t you tell me that you’d come?!”

“I just want to know what compelled you to them. It’s rather baffling, but I think I understand now. That child doesn’t see you for your species, right? They don’t even know about your true name.”

Malleus remained silent.

You simpered, “And it appears that you didn’t tell them about your status too. Why? Are you afraid that they’d change their mind about you?”

“That is none of your business.”

“You know, they’re the one who thinks we’re dating. And they’re not wrong. We are dating, aren’t we?”

“That’s because you’re being nosy!” Malleus hissed. “Can’t you just stop bothering me and let me have some peace for once?!”

Suddenly, your face hardened just as your body went rigid under his grip. It was rather eerie to see you without your calm smile or the way your eyes stared at him without their usual gentleness of complacency. Had he finally displeased you?

“Your grandmother once told me that you liked to read fairy tales and dreamed of happily ever after. I can give you that, and Queen Maleficia knows I’ve been trying for the past centuries, but it seems that my efforts are actually futile all this time.”

You snatched your wrist from his grip and stopped beside him.

“One day, you shall see that I’m the constant part of your life. Not even your fragile and temporary friendship with that magicless human can replace me.” you declared quietly. “And one day, you shall come back to me once the loneliness becomes too overwhelming for you. Because I am the only one you need in your life.”

The wind blew past him, and with it, you were gone. Malleus looked at your empty spot, wondering since when the silence rang too loud in his ears. Then, he scoffed.

How silly. You were useful as a princess and fiancée, yes, but as a companion? No. He didn’t need you platonically or romantically, and he was sure he could live for the next centuries treating you as a business partner or a distant roommate. Just like many others before him.

He could bear with that cold, formal marriage. He was sure of it.

Seasons changed, the calendars turned their pages, and Night Raven College became a distant yet bittersweet memory. Crowley officially failed to bring Yuu home, so Malleus decided to give them a new one in Queendom of Roses so they’d feel close to their friends. It didn’t lessen their eternal anguish and longing, but at least they were able to hide it in the letters and smile at him on the rare times they met. On the other hand, ever since that incident, you’d become distant despite your new status as his wife. Although you were still successful at fooling the nobles with your loving façade, the people close to you managed to sense the wall between you. It was concerning enough until Queen Maleficia decided to confront you both, and with a masterfully calm smile, you replied.

“We simply have a disagreement, but I assure you, it won’t affect our duties or images in any way.”

Malleus could tell she didn’t really believe it, but she sighed in a way weary parents usually did, including Lilia. And you both weren’t exempted from Lilia’s admonishment itself.

For years, the invisible wall remained sturdy, neither heightening or lowering

Until, one day, Yuu died.

Nobody needed to guess who the culprit was when blizzards and thunderstorm kept falling interchangeably around the country. Lilia had implored him to calm down to prevent more deluges in the small villages, and at one point even proposed to visit you for comfort, but Malleus merely lashed out at the latter. How dare he suggest such a ludicrous thing?! All Malleus wanted was to meet his one and only friend again, not you. Never you.

But, alas, Yuu’s fate was already set in stone, and for all his power, there was nothing Malleus could do. The storms had lessened, but dark clouds still lingered in the already gloomy sky. The cloud was heavier around him who refused to leave his room, leaving the court to handle the brunt of his duty. Including you.

“[Name].”

Calmly, you sipped the warm tea and put the cup back to its saucer. You didn’t turn to look at him, but Malleus knew you were listening. You were always listening for him, about him, and the thought strangely flattered him now.

Malleus crossed the drawing room and stood beside you. He stared down at you for a moment before he kneeled.

“You’re correct.”

It was an abrupt apology yet no less sincere. He took your hand from your lap and clasped it within his cold and desperate hands, looking at you pleadingly despite your silent refusal.

“You are… the true constant part of my life. My queen, my wife, and my companion. I was mistaken to believe that my friendship with Yuu could be anything but…” He swallowed the grief and pride. “fragile and temporary, not when they were a mere mortal in my impossibly long life. Forgive me for being so blind and foolish to the truth.”

Malleus rested his forehead against your lap, already resigned to the silence that might stretch on forever. It wasn’t until he felt a hand prod him to raise his head did he obey.

Finally, you looked at him.

“I told you.” you whispered, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. “You’ll come back to me. Because you just can’t live without me, can you?”

“Yes, yes, of course. You are the only I need in my life.”

Slowly, you smile widened just as your eyes glowed in the dimly-lit room.

The same confident and complacent smile that he once hated but now loved.

The same confident and complacent smile that told him you won this centuries-long game of cat and mouse.

“Good boy.”