#or ignore them altogether if that's what you so choose

[theladybrownstarot]

Pick-A-Card : Why will your future spouse choose you ? ✧°•

✧ Here's my masterlist for more !

✧ Make sure you like/follow/Comment/reblogg for more pacs like these !

Pick-A-Pile : Here's a new pick card reading for you all ! So close your eyes and breathe in and out then choose pile(s) attracting you most . This is a general reading so it may resonate and not , my readings are not the universal truth so make your decisions wisely 🖤✨️

✧ Pile 1.

Namaste pile 1 ! Let's begin with your reading:

Your future spouse choose you because among all you were the one who didn't pay a lot attention to his charm and ignored him ,according to them you seem to be playing to get hard. I see that you two have similar thoughts making you compatible all around with each other also I see that they already thought to choose you long before you even know them but they didn't knew how to approach you and confess their feeling . I'm getting that they are someone who are new and someone you don't know at all most probably. This is hilarious and cute at the same time because you are in their thoughts everytime , they feel that undeniable connection with you . I see some south-east or north guy/girl in this reading too and possibly that you may have short to medium hair or wear specs or they may have sharp eyes and wear specs- an extra information chanelled . Your future spouse actually feels safe with you emotionally ; respecting and understanding them like no one ever did before. They feel to immerse with you only and around you they can open up fully without any insecurity. There's this sharp clarity about you they have that they want you only in their life , no matter what happens so wow go getter energy .

✧ Pile 2

Namaste pile 2 ! Let's get with your reading:

The first thing that I chanelled I was very funny like you had be someone that might be or will be the one who will be a lot pressured by your future spouse to handle their errands like this person needs you like mostly to get their work done or they will just throw some work on you and that's the first main reason why they had choose you- they want to depend on someone because they are lazy and dramatic as hell. At the same time I see that do respect you a lot and admire you for you being you and letting them grow with you this is the vision that they basically have about you. You are their litreal trophy or that jackpot . I see that they may self esteem issues but you had be helping them up to change totally. I see that this person might be an over achiever and at some not a lot recognised for their hardwork and because of this they ended up loosing a lot in life but you will or got them up. They choose you because you directed and supported them a lot in their harsh times . They believe in themselves more when you are with them , they will that they would achieve the whole world by being with you also they had be a bit rebellious and masculine person for same .

✧ Pile 3.

Namaste pile 3 ! Let's get with your reading :

They had literally state so many reason like they love you unconditionally for sure ! The cards just felt out like wonders everytime I was shuffling. You are blessed for sure . I feel that after you met your spouse either one of you met with some financial gains and changes as per what I can sense and say . Your future spouse choose you because you healed them emotionally basically from their experiences and the traumas they had , you showed them the light and hope altogether. They already saw the signs around again when and after they met making them sure out of no where that you had be the one who won't leave him . This pile has got some very emotional energy . I Channeled a hindi song - jeena sikha diya marna sikha diya . I'm getting that they were outcasted in their life and no one accepted them other than you because you had a pure heart and I also heard black magic for you or him . They chose you because you complete them .

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

©️ @theladybrownstarot 2023 all rights reserved. Any stealing or copying of work will be a punishable offence.

[llamagirl28]

Hello folks! I'm back with good news!

First off, let me get the development update out of the way. These past months writing has been difficult due to health issues regarding my hands, but I've still managed to get some work done and make progress on the demo. The updates have been Patreon/Kofi exclusive so far (since they have early access perks) and I've been waiting for content to build up for a public release. Now, I finally bring you something to sink your teeth in!

I also wanted to let you know that I've read the feedback you left me and I've taken it all into consideration. I have made plans for changes, some major, some minor, but I've yet to implement them. Here's a list of the future changes:

I've received feedback that chapter 4 feels slow, overly-descriptive and filled with scenes of tasks and chores; looking back on it, I do admit I've gone overboard with these things. I'll be cutting down on superfluous bits, altogether removing some scenes or changing them into something more interesting and relevant.

Also regarding chapter 4, as well as 5: I've...info-dumped quite a lot, and it slows the pace. I'll be going over the game and try to spread out information better, or withhold it till later.

Guinevere will be introduced earlier, in chapter 3. Really excited about this change :)

Instead of having one main trait for Mordred's dragon friend to choose from in chapter 2, the option will be between four archtypes. These will allow me to better flesh out the character (I've found the current system restrictive and one-note). I'll elaborate more on these new choices when they're added (which I've started to work on) but know that they incorporate the existent personality traits. This change will also come with not just edited, but entirely new scenes featuring the draconic companion.

Adding an alternative route to showing Elaine around in chapter 5, so Mordreds not interested in her can still do something fun

Alright, now let's talk demo update!

What's new?

More of chapter 5 (it's a big one)

Greet the wedding guests. Reunite with Nimue and catch up, meet Merlin for the first time

Talk to, insult, or ignore Galahad

Get on the dancefloor! (with a RO or friend of choice!)

Edits made: some bits of Nimue's conversation in chapter 1 have been reworked and a new dialogue option has been added, a couple of edits done to Morgana's first POV in chapter 3

Demo link:

[the-lemonaut]

Characters co-owned w @_magic.stardust_ on IG 😌✨ (a couple more comics abt this on my account already)

I'm not a very positive person, i have a LOT of doomer tendencies. I feel everything like it's cranked up to the max, and as you can imagine it doesn't feel great. Every day throws more atrocious things in my face, and i can't ignore it 🥲

I see other people feeling the same way. We dissociate and numb ourselves by watching, playing, buying stuff. Hateful movements are gaining traction and climate change has its foot in the door

And it's all happening either way, to some degree. I feel like shit, and i'm sick of that. I might as well have a little bit of hope, otherwise i'll go bonkers 😭 Do we continue doomering our way through life or ignoring things altogether, or do we choose to hope a little?

That's why i'm looking into Solarpunk and am thinking of taking any readers (and myself) on a little journey through a better world, and how it might work, through a series of mini-comics I'm posting here. I don't have all the answers (no one person ever does), and i don't hold any pretenses that this kind of world is going to be our future. But i often hear "You love critiquing the status quo, but what do you propose instead?" I'd like to find out too. Here's to something we can hope for, no matter how slim the chances are! Because as I said, i might just lose my mind otherwise ☠️

P.S for new peeps: this is an AU with me and my friend's OCs, so all characters are genderless and go by they/them. It's not identical to our world in that regard, but other than this fact we try to keep it more or less realistic 🤙

I spent a thousand krillion hours on this and the other Solarpunk comics, consider throwing 2$ at me on Buy Me A Coffee to raise my spirits :] I'm not doing well mentally these days, but people's appreciation helps a lot. Thank you very much!

[slytherinshua]

Care to elaborate glasses Gunwook for the chat? <33

SKDJDKSK WOW I ACTUALLY DESPISE YOU OKAY SO I JUST WOKE UP THIS IS PROBABLY GONNA BE SHIT BUT

gunwook knows you love it when he wears glasses. he knows it so well. so every morning he has to decide whether he wants to torture you or not, and in most cases he does. because why would he reach for his contacts when his glasses were right there and he knows he’ll get extra affection from you just for wearing them?

but some mornings he’s so tired that he doesn’t even think about it before grabbing his glasses. mostly when he’s woken up and you’re not next to him under the covers anymore is when he’ll drag his sleepy body up, fumbling on the bedside table to find his glasses so he can at least see before going on the search for you. when you see him; messed up hair, glasses perched on his nose, soft pyjamas still covering his body, sleepy eyes looking so lost and confused because you weren’t next to him when he woke up— you melt. and then you shower him with as many kisses as you can because your sweet boyfriend deserves nothing less.

sometimes he even forgets that he’s wearing his glasses and then is surprised when you can’t get your hands off of him. when he doesn’t have the brain capacity to figure out what the catalyst was for your extra hugs and kisses are, it’s usually after a long day of work when he’s just eager to get home and be done for the day. he accepts the extra affection with no complaints, but is just confused until he remembers that oh, he’s wearing glasses and that you love when he does that.

gunwook loves to lay his head in your lap and cuddle, but he’s found that it’s really hard with glasses :( which he hates because he knows how much you love them. but he’s still forced to choose whether to keep them on and be slightly uncomfortable with the frames digging into his head, or take them off altogether. he usually ends up taking them off for comfort because you’re content enough to just play with his hair. you’ll always put the glasses back on his face for him once you’re done cuddling, though. and you’re always so careful placing them on his nose and sliding the frames to rest on his ears, cooing at how adorably he looks at you with wide eyes.

gunwook’s glasses also work as his secret weapon whenever you’re ignoring him. all he has to do is put them on to make it a million times more challenging for you to keep up your little stunt and say you don’t want to hug him. and you fail every time because it’s gunwook and he has glasses on and the entire universe is telling you to kiss his cheek.

↳ zerobaseone taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu ,, @okshu ,, @chewryy

[trashprinxe]

Let’s have a talk about malleability and TTRPGs

I come from a theatrical background. Did theatre for most of my life, majored in stage management, the works. Plays and the way they function are deeply embedded in my psyche.

So when I design and play games, I come from that theatrical framework.

Now — on the one hand, you have Shakespeare. Fairly universal stories, yeah? You can cut it up, switch things around, put it into a multitude of settings. And it still works! King Lear in space. Romeo & Juliet as pirates. The Scottish Play (old habits die hard) done avant-garde. It’s malleable!

On the other end, you have hyper-specific plays about hyper-specific themes. Angels in America. The Laramie Project. Venus in Furs. Etcetera. You can’t remove the core themes, change the setting, switch scenes around: without erasing the core intent of the work and the story it’s trying to tell.

And in the middle, you have plays that are somewhat malleable. Almost, Maine, for instance. It’s made up of vignettes; you can do only some of them, if you so choose. It’ll still have the same impact.

I believe TTRPGs exist on a similar spectrum.

You have systems that can accommodate many different genres or play styles. People play dnd this way. Pathfinder comes with pre built settings that run the gamut

PbtA games are hyperspecific. Monster of the Week is about, well, monsters of the week. Remove that, and you’re playing a different game.

Call of Cthulhu can be set in any time period, but you still have to be up against Eldritch horrors. If you’re able to fight the monster, that’s a different intent than the game was built for.

Lyric games are akin to 4.48 Psychosis (everyone should read that, by the way, it’s a master work of avant-garde theatre).

And so on and so on.

Nothing is better or worse than any other. It just exists, on a spectrum, in the same vein as playstyle or crunch do. Everyone has their preference.

But with any game, there comes a point where you’re no longer playing that game.

10 Things I Hate About You is not The Taming of the Shrew, though it were based on it. There’s a limit to even the most forgiving game to where you’re no longer playing that game, but something you and your table have created for yourselves.

You can’t take the queerness or religion out of Angels in America. That’s a different play altogether.

It’s a spectrum.

I choose to design in the specific. That’s what resonates with my brain. You may want to play something that’s capable of handling more universal narratives. That’s fine too!

But we can’t ignore the bones of the system, and it’s incorrect to say we’re putting on Hamlet, when we’re actually performing The Lion King.

So: the Theory of Malleability (working title).

I don’t have a great end to this. Just musings. But I hope it makes sense to you too.

[themultifanshipper]

hi babes

can i request some angsty/fluffy fic with oscar and pregnant reader, where she's feeling a little down and overwhelmed with how changed is her body (like with her size or stretch marks, idk) and oscar recomforts her, saying that she's beautiful and she's doing so well..

thankyou, i love your works sm<33

Warnings: light angst, Oscar being a lil clumsy but sweet, fluff that quickly goes into smutty territory :3 (no actual smut scene though)

Also quick psa, it's very common to get depression during and after pregnancy. It's a very real disease that millions of women battle with. If you feel like you have symptoms of any description, don't keep them to yourself, talk to someone you trust about it and seek help, stay safe out there my dudes <3

This weekend had been rough for you.

Apart from all the obvious pregnancy symptoms like morning sickness, which had been really kicking your ass for the past few weeks, it was the other things that were starting to get you down.

Your body had changed, and it felt alien to you. Like it wasn't even your own anymore.

You'd spent hours staring at the stretch marks that covered your stomach, wondering if they would ever fade.

The weight you'd put on made your thighs look massive, and you could already see the signs of your breasts almost doubling in size.

You felt huge, to put it simply.

And your self confidence was in the gutter.

You'd been ignoring Oscar's worried calls and messages while he was away at the Grand Prix, choosing to turn your phone off altogether and wallow in self deprecation.

Oscar was supposed to be getting a jet back on monday night, but he was so worried about you he bought a last minute flight right after the race, to get home to you as fast as he could.

He opened the door to your shared apartment, keys jingling as his hand trembled in his hold.

“Sweetheart?” He called out, once he was finally inside.

There was no answer.

He noticed a faint light coming from the corridor, and he followed it only to realise you had left a lamp on in the bedroom and fallen asleep with the latest book you were reading still in your hand.

He melted at the sight, putting the book on the nightstand (after putting a bookmark in it, he's not a savage) and turned the lamp off before stripping and getting into bed with you, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead.

He wrapped his arms around you and held you like that, his breathing synchronised with yours until he fell asleep, exhausted from his long day of racing and travelling.

What he didn't know, was that you had been pretending to sleep. You weren't ready to talk to him about what was troubling you because you knew it was stupid and he probably wouldn't take you seriously…

The next morning Oscar woke with a start. The other side of the bed was empty which was odd, you never usually woke up this early and you always cuddled up to him in the morning, putting your perpetually cold feet against his skin to warm them up.

He listened for any activity in the apartment, the coffee machine, the tv… but not a single noise could be heard.

He slid out of bed and went looking for you.

It didn't take long to find you, curled up on the sofa, blanketless and shivering in your sleep.

Oscar whined quietly to himself, what on earth was up with you?

He put a gentle hand on your shoulder and rocked you awake.

“Baby it's 5 in the morning what are you doing on the couch? Come back to bed with me”

You just curled up tighter and hid your face from him. “No it's okay Osc I'm fine here”

He put an arm around you, trying to get you to sit up.

“You're obviously not babe, you're shaking with the cold, let's go cuddle up in bed under the-”

“Oscar I said I'm fine just leave me here!” You protested, wriggling out of his grasp.

“Don't be ridiculous you're freezing out here come on”

“Fuck off! I said I'm fine!” you snapped, and Oscar would have believed you if it weren’t for the way you're voice cracked and a tear rolled down your cheek.

He was so shocked at your outburst he froze, not quite knowing what to say as he noticed how pale you looked and how red rimmed your eyes were.

“Baby…” he put a comforting hand on your hip but you flinched away “Babe what-”

“It's nothing” you said, slightly softer, wiping your tears with the obviously already very damp sleeves of your pyjamas. “It's just the morning sickness and stuff has been really bad and I didn't want to wake you”

Oscar was entirely unconvinced but he didn't push.

“Alright, come to bed with me then, we need to get you warmed up”

You nodded, indeed feeling very cold at the moment and you let him steer you back to your bedroom.

Once you were back in bed with him, he snuggled up behind you and pulled you across the distance you had tried to put between the two of you.

“I love you” he whispered, his fingers tracing patterns over your skin.

You didn't reply, and your body was so tense it was a miracle you hadn't pulled a muscle.

After a few seconds a quiet sob wracked your frame and Oscar tightened his hold on you.

“Baby please, tell me what's wrong.” Oscar pleaded.

You sniffled and tried to get your breathing straightened out before answering.

“I just… I don't like how my body’s just- what if it doesn't- I don't want-” your breaths were coming in short as you started getting choked up again.

“Baby slow down. Deep breaths now”

You took a deep breath in.

“I’m scared”

Oscar blinked at the back of your head.

“Of what?”

You sighed.

“That my body is ruined, and that it will never be how it was before… and that you won't like it anymore”

Now that you were saying it out loud, it sounded stupid even to you, but the fear and insecurity was clawing at your insides harder than ever.

“Baby your body is changing for the better, trust me. You're making a baby inside you, that's bound to make some changes. But I love you even more because of them. I love that inside your belly there's a little human that is the result of how much I fucking love you. And I'm going to be with you every step of the way.”

You heaved in a breath “I just- I didn't know it would be this hard…”

He kissed your cheek and stroked your belly under the blanket. “I’m so sorry if I've done anything to make you think I wouldn't love your body no matter what. Your body isn't ruined, baby. You have no idea how much it drives me insane to think of you waddling around our apartment, belly full with my kid”

You turned around to face him with fresh tears in your eyes.

“I want you.” He smiled softly “I want you so fucking much you have no idea.” He kissed your forehead sweetly before pulling you into his arms, adding “I’ll always want you baby, nothing will ever change that”.

You breathed in his comforting scent as you melted into his arms.

“And if you don't believe me…”

He pressed closer to you and you felt him, half hard against your hip.

“… let me prove it to you”

One of his hands trailed down to where your ass filled out your shorts a bit more than it used to.

“This body…”

He kissed your neck, then lowered himself down to your where your nipples were visible through the material of your thin sleep shirt.

“... is a masterpiece…”

He kissed lower and lower until he got to the waistband of your shorts

“ and it's all. Fucking. Mine.”

He growled as he dipped his hand under the material and felt the wetness already gathering.

“Jesus fuck” he groaned “you're so perfect, so good for me”

You raised your hips so he could slide them off you and spread your legs, licking his lips at the sight of you in front of him, full hips and thick thighs on display for him.

Not to mention your growing belly peeking out from under your shirt.

His eyes went from brown to black at an alarming pace as he slowly lowered himself and looked up at you with a devilish smirk.

“You ready?” he purred, voice deepened by arousal.

You were on the verge of crying again, feeling so overwhelmed by the attention Oscar was giving you, but you swallowed the feeling down in favour of sliding a hand through his hair.

You tightened your grip, pulling at the roots slightly and he shivered, his eyes closing in pleasure. He let out the tiniest whimper when you did it again.

When his eyes met yours again after a few moments of him composing himself, you smiled down at him.

“Get to work”

[alwaysanundertone]

Day 4: wax play | rosekiller

smut

TW: piv, wax play, multiple orgasms, handcuffs, oral fem receiving

“Hey Gremlin!” You rolled your eyes as Barty made his entrance in your dorm room, Evan trailing behind him.

“You know, I don’t understand why you can’t use some cute nicknames like every other boyfriend”

“Oh, stop complaining, we got you a present” This sparked your attention. You turned on your chair, facing them.

“You’re such a little minx, only paying us attention when we get you presents. Such a spoiled brat”

You stuck your tongue out at Evan. “Stop acting like a little bitch and give me my present, please?” You made puppy eyes at Evan, who handed you the bag.

“You have such an attitude for being so little”

You chose to ignore the blonde guy, reaching inside the bag, and blushing immediately when you saw what it contained, your boyfriends exchanging a devilish smirk.

You held two pairs of pink handcuffs in one hand and a candle in the other, your eyes widened at the sight. “Already loosing your attitude? Thought it would take a little bit more effort” It wasn’t that you were scared about was coming, but more about the fact that you didn’t have a clue about what they had in mind.

“What is the candle for?” They both smirked, Evan reached for your cheek, caressing it softly.

“It’s not a regular candle, baby, it’s a special one. You see, if you were to touch the wax, you’d feel the sting, but you wouldn’t have any medical repercussions, no risk of getting burned or developing infections.”

Suddenly you understood well what was about to come, and the prospect scared you as much as it excited you. The sex between you three had always been rougher than the average vanilla couple, but they didn’t try anything this kinky until now.

“What do you say, baby, do you want to try?” You hummed slightly, still not totally convinced. “If you don’t want to it’s fine, we can do other fun things, you know?”

You shook your head. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just… What if the pain gets overwhelming? Like, how can you tell if I’m just playing the part or if I’m really hurt and I want it to stop?”

Barty took your hand into his, kissing your fingertips.  “Love, we were about to say that if we’re trying this, we have to set a safe word” You looked at him confused. “Basically, we’re going to establish a word that you’re going to use only if it gets too much and you want to take a break or stop altogether. You have to choose one and tell us” Now that they were putting it like this, you didn’t have any reason to stop this.

“Okay, I want to try it. I think my safeword could be ‘mango’”

“Perfect love. Now, lay back” You did as you were told, both securing one of your wrists to the bedpost, the fuzzy material tickling the skin of your wrist. Evan placed a soft kiss on your lips, the contact alone making your head spin with need, while Barty started teasing you through your already wet panties.

You saw Evan reaching inside of his pocket for his lighter, his black-coloured thumb lighting it up, the motion somehow sexy. Once the candle was lit, you prepared yourself for the wax, but it didn’t come. Instead, Barty teared apart your panties, sucking your clit gently, making you gasp.

Meanwhile, Evan had started playing with your nipples, pinching them softly, eliciting soft moans from you. It was only when you were already lost in pleasure that you felt the first drop of wax on your flat stomach, you felt your brain short-circuiting, the sharp pain mixed with the intense pleasure made a quite pleasuring combo, you moaned slightly.

“Pass me the candle, Barty” As your pussy was still under attack, Evan poured some drops on the skin of your breasts, making you shiver in both pain and pleasure. You felt Barty’s finger probing your entrance, as he dragged it painfully slow, still sucking in a rapid rhythm your clit.

When Barty curled his finger, caressing your G-spot, you couldn’t help but cum all over his face and fingers. “Already coming for us, pet? You’re being so good for us, such a good girl” You moaned at Barty’s praise. “She tastes so sweet, Evan, come taste her.” And just like that, the two guys were making out just above your head, while they let wax drip in the valley between your breasts, making you whimper slightly.

“How are you feeling, doll?” As you were about to respond, Crouch let some was  “accidentally” drip on your mound, making you scream. At this point you couldn’t tell anymore if the sensation was pleasurable or painful. “Words, doll, or we won’t understand”

He kept letting wax drip on your skin, as you force a flebile “good”. Even though you pretended to hate it, you secretly loved when they were acting a little bit sadistic, their faux compassion making you feel helpless. You saw Evan putting on a condom, and after a few seconds he entered you harshly, making you gasp. “Sorry love, you just look so sexy like this.” Barty kept dripping wax on your body, now following a specific pattern you couldn’t make out.

You felt your head being shifted to lay on the blonde’s shoulders, while he picked up a relentless rhythm, his thumb pressing down on your clit, eliciting a few moans from you.

Barty leaned down, kissing your lips softly, then making the wax drip directly on your nipples, his mouth muffling your screams. He tasted like mint and tobacco, the mix always making your head spin.

When he started playing with your nipples you knew you were gone for good. “I’m- Oh my god, Evan, fucking hell” He found that special spot inside of you that made your eyes roll back in your head. “Going to come”

You did, milking his cock, his orgasm following right after yours while Barty released himself all over your tits.

Still blissed out, you felt a flash on your skin, making you open your eyes. You frowned, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at your belly: right on your stomach there was a big “E + B” written in purple was, Barty’s cum covering your breasts right above it.

“Gonna make this my wallpaper AND lockscreen”

“Motherfucker, that was MY idea first”

You decided to not interfere in their bickering, your orgasm lulling you into a deep, peaceful sleep, knowing that they were going to clean you up.

tags: @sxmnc @peterparkerspersonalplaything @riaaavm @iamawkwardandshy @eeviee4 @mysterialee @famouscrusadeluminary @el1smells @rishofkf @mooonyxoxo @happymaeday @yourfiendlyneighbourspiderman @whyshouldihaveanam3 @amazing-bobinsky @barnesandmetal @just-here-for-ff @sammyreid @remussbitch @randomcreator-09

[deaddee-anime-brownfanlady]

Everything! Everything this man is saying is so damned true. If you are someone who willingly voted for Trump while knowing what he'll do once he gets in Office again.

Deeply FUCK YOU! If you're a person that refuses to vote against him and didn't do anything to stop him at all than FUCK YA'LL too.

If you are a Muslim or Latino or a Non-Black POC that supported and voted for Trump and are now worried about being deported and banned from the country, I really don't feel sorry for any of ya'll. Some of ya'll non-Black POC countine to showcase that ya'll will always choose White Supremacy and Whiteness at the end of the day while simultaneously voting against your own self interests while still being anti-Black as hell.

You won't get any sympathy from me whatsoever. Ya'll Fuckers wanted this so deal with it.

To the percentage of White Women who yet again let down Black Women & other Women of Color by voting for having less bodily anatomy and less rights than you're great great-grandmother, Ya'll don't deserve any sympathy neither.

Pro-Palestine people, FUCK OFF too. Ya'll are also full of bullshit and have showcased that ya'll truly don't give a Fuck about Palestinians or Gazans lives when you let a raging White supremacist like Trump who have said he'll let Netanyahu " Finish the Job", and will have no remorse or issues Nuking the hell out of both Gaza and Palestine altogether.

Ya'll aren't " activists " of any kind and have shown just how unserious, radicalized, brainwashed extremists ya'll truly are in terms of your so-called " Support ".

To the percentage of brain-dead Black men who also voted for this bastard, I rarely used the N-word in my vocabulary. But ya'll are truly some stupid-ass Nigg*s. You're character as a person is garbage and you are a disgrace to your grandparents and many other Black people of the Civil rights movement who fought and died for your fucking ass and this is how you repay them.

By voting for a White supremacist and beyond racist piece of shit. Ya'll Uncle Tom's or I should say Ruckuses don't deserve any sympathy neither.

The third-party voters and those who wasted their vote on Jill stein as a protest vote, ya'll are the stupidest group of people alive and FUCK ALL OF YA'LL as well.

I've seriously had enough of this shit. I'm tired and sick of being held hostage by the ignorant and stupid and hateful people of this damned country.

I'm just so fucking sick.

Ya'll won't get any sympathy from me if you actually wanted this man in power again or refused to actually vote against him during the election.

You've shown ya'll true characters and how horrible of people ya'll truly are.

Don't expect any sympathy or empathy towards you if you're the one who wanted this to happen.

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

9: NEW DAWN

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

You and Bucky deal with the fallout of the undercover mission.

Word count 3.3k

Warnings: reader coming to terms with Bucky's decision, trying to move forwards, betrayal, more miscommunication, anger, Bucky Barnes acting like a giant tool, Daisy Johnson and Melinda May make an appearance

The next morning you woke early, determined to carry out your plan. Slipping out of the compound, you drove out of the parking garage in one of the convertibles with the top down and wind blowing through your hair. It was freezing cold and you knew it was reckless because it looked like the heavens would open at any minute, but you didn’t care. You arrived at Coulson Academy just as several large raindrops started to fall, and you sniffed slightly from the cold air. Putting the top up, you got out of the car and ran for shelter under the large awning of the Academy entrance.

"Ugh!" You stopped to flick off the water from your jacket.

"Subtle entrance." Melinda May’s voice startled you.

You jumped out of your skin. "Jeez, May! Why do you always have to lurk around?"

"Wasn’t lurking. Just waiting for you."

"How did you know I was coming?"

"I heard about what happened."

"Steve?" you asked.

"Romanoff."

Of course it had been Nat. She knew everything that happened, she knew exactly what you would do. Maybe you ought to have talked to her before leaving.

"Why didn’t you stop me?" you asked.

"Because I knew you needed to make this decision on your own," May replied calmly. "And I knew you would come here eventually."

You sighed, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. "I don’t know if I’m making the right choice."

May placed a hand on your shoulder. "There is no right choice here. You need to take care of yourself for once, instead of putting everyone else’s needs before yours. Teaching at the Academy is something you would be good at. You have so much to offer, and… I believe in you."

You looked up at her, grateful for her support. She wasn’t one for heart to heart conversations, preferring to ignore her emotions altogether. "Thank you, May. I just wish it didn’t have to end this way with Bucky."

May gave you a knowing look, she knew exactly how you felt without you having to explain it to her. "Sometimes things don’t work out the way we want them to. But that doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world. You have a bright future ahead of you, and I'll be there to help you every step of the way."

"Can I stay with you for a while?"

May rolled her eyes, "fine."

You wrapped your arms around her in a quick hug. "You’re the best. I love you."

*

Natasha was waiting for you when you returned, lounging across the hood of one of the Porches, filing her nails.

"Tony won’t be best pleased if he sees you like that."

"I’m not too worried about Tony. I have more important things on my mind."

"Yeah?" you asked, knowing full well where the conversation was going.

"What happened last night?"

"Didn’t Steve tell you?"

"Rogers?" she scoffed. "He has no idea what he’s talking about half the time."

You looked around for signs of anyone nearby. The risk of having someone overhear your conversation was making you feel very uncomfortable. Natasha pulled you into a secluded corner with a view of the rest of the garage and gave you a very pointed look requesting that you spilled the beans. But somehow the words you wanted to choose made the problem seem trivial. So instead of telling her about all the events that had transpired, you kept it simple.

"He chose her. Apparently there isn't enough room in his life for both of us," you shrugged.

"Steve told me what she did." Your gaze snapped to Nat’s face, but her returning expression was angry. "I don’t understand why you didn’t tell him."

"It’s my word against hers, Nat. I have no proof that she took my idea. What am I supposed to say? His reaction last night proves that he doesn’t trust me." You sighed dismally.

"Do you need me to beat some sense into him?"

You smiled sadly at your friend.

"Sweetie, you need to tell him how you feel," she continued.

"I think it’s too late for that. I’ve made my decision."

"I can’t do anything to change your mind?"

"Please Nat," you pleaded. "This is hard enough."

She put her arms around your neck, leaning her forehead against yours. "But I’ll miss you."

"I’ll miss you too." You wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her into a tight hug, trying not to let the tears start falling again. Eventually you pulled away, steeling yourself for the next step; telling Steve and Tony about your resignation.

*

As you made your way back into the compound, you caught sight of your best friend in the gym. He was pummeling a punching bag like he wanted to murder it.

You gathered every ounce of courage within you and approached Bucky, desperate to reconcile and recapture the bond you once shared. But as you reached out to touch his arm, he recoiled, his eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and hurt.

"Bucky, please. I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way-"

"I thought I knew you, but I feel like I don’t know you anymore," he said, his voice laced with sorrow. "I know how you feel about Priya-"

"Buck-"

"I can see it in your face. But I never thought you could be so spiteful."

Your heart, already shattered, fractured further still, and the tears you had held back cascaded down your cheeks. Your friendship, once unbreakable, seemed irretrievable. Bucky turned his back on you, leaving you broken, lost in a sea of regret and longing.

*

After drying your tears, you found Tony and Steve in the common area, deep in conversation. Taking a breath, you approached them, your voice steady but filled with emotion. "Tony, Steve, I need to talk to you both."

Tony looked up, concern etched on his face. "What's wrong, Cricket?"

You hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I... I need to resign from the Avengers."

Tony's eyes widened in surprise. "What? Why?"

You took a moment to gather your thoughts before explaining. "I could make up some logistical excuse but you'll both know it's a lie. It's... it's because of Bucky. I can't continue to work alongside him knowing how I feel and knowing that he's with someone else. It's too painful for me."

Tony and Steve exchanged a knowing look before Steve spoke up. "We understand Cricket. We've seen how hard this has been for you. But are you sure this is what you want?"

You nodded, tears threatening to spill over. "I can't stay here and pretend everything is okay when it's not. I need to take a step back and figure things out."

Steve placed a comforting hand on your shoulder but he looked like he was at a loss for words. So he took the professional route of comfort. "You're a valuable member of the team."

"Stay, we can find you another partner." Tony stood up, coming over to you. "I can’t just let you go without a fight."

You smiled weakly, grateful for their understanding. "Thank you, Steve. And thank you, Tony. But I just need some time to myself."

As you turned to leave, Tony called out to you. "Hey Sport, if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to reach out. We're here for you."

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. It was time to focus on yourself and your own happiness, even if it meant leaving behind the life you had known as an Avenger. And maybe, just maybe, you would find a way to move on from Bucky and find your own path to happiness.

You'd barely taken three steps out of the common room before Steve caught up with you. "Have you spoken to him?"

"If you call ‘him telling me he doesn't even know who I am and then storming off’ speaking, then yes. I don't understand how this happened, Steve. I thought nothing could get between us."

"He loves you." Steve stopped in front of you. 

"Not anymore. He hates me."

Steve couldn't help but feel frustrated by how his two best friends could be so oblivious. 

"Look Steve, I'm sorry, I know Bucky’s your best friend. You don't need to hear me bad mouthing him." You stepped around him, making your way back to your room.

"Cricket, you're my friend too." Steve chased after you.

"Then will you help me pack?"

Steve sighed, he would never refuse anyone’s request for help. "Of course."

*

It hadn’t taken you long to pack your things into boxes. Your clothes weren’t difficult to shove into suitcases. Your wardrobe wasn’t extensive, having learned to live out of small spaces for many years, material things weren’t quite on your list of necessities. You had let Tony decorate your walls to his taste and you’d been pleasantly surprised at how good he was at guessing your tastes. However, you’d decided not to take these things with you when you left. It was time for you to make your own home. It was going to be a new challenge, you’d been involved with large institutions ever since you’d left home, and had never had to create a home for yourself before.

You turned to face Steve, Sam, and Nat, who were all standing in your room, looking at you with concern in their eyes.

"Come on, sugar cakes. Isn’t there any way we can convince you to stay?" Sam asked.

"I appreciate the sentiment, guys, but I need to do this," you said, zipping up your suitcase.

"Cricket, you’re too valuable a member of the team," Steve said, stepping forward.

"You know that’s just not true, but thank you for saying that. But I just can’t stay here knowing that Bucky’s mad at me," you replied, feeling a sting in your chest at the thought of leaving your best friend behind.

"Bucky will come around, he always does," Sam chimed in, trying to reassure you.

"I don’t think so, not this time. He’s really upset with me," you said, feeling tears welling up in your eyes.

Nat walked over to you and put a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Cricket, you can’t just leave because of this. You’re stronger than that."

You shook your head, wiping away a tear. "I can’t stay here, Nat. It’s too painful."

"We understand, but we don’t want you to go," Steve said, his voice filled with emotion.

"I know, but I have to do this. Please, don’t tell Bucky I’m leaving. I need to do this on my own terms," you pleaded, wondering if Bucky would even notice your absence.

The three of them exchanged a look before nodding in agreement. "Okay, we won’t tell him. But promise us you’ll keep in touch," Sam said.

You nodded, feeling grateful for their understanding. "I promise. Thank you, guys. I’ll miss you all."

You were the last to leave your room, the others had carried your things to the van you were borrowing from the garage. You sighed, you would miss the luxury and convenience that came with being a member of the Avengers Initiative. There were only a few things left in your room; the wolf plushie Steve had won you at Coney Island, you later realized that it reminded you of Bucky, and the still wrapped gift you had bought for Bucky, the card you’d written him still stuck to the top. There was no reason to take those things with you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to throw them away. You decided to leave them on your bed. The next owner of the room could decide what to do with them.

On your way out, you ambled past the hangar bay, spotting Bucky in full tactical gear prepping for a mission. You had no idea that he had been assigned to something. 

"You have a mission?" you blurted out, causing Bucky to turn to you.

"Yes." His voice was monosyllabic.

"Alone?"

"No."

"No, with me." Sharon materialized suddenly.

"Oh, hey Sharon. I hope you guys are safe out there."

Bucky looked back at you, a fleeting look of regret crossed his face, before he turned and walked away. He didn’t waste any time requesting a new partner, you thought. Just when you thought he couldn’t hurt you anymore. At least he would be safe with her; Sharon was a good agent, she would watch his back, that’s what mattered the most.

As you walked out of the compound, you felt a mix of sadness and relief. It was time to start a new chapter in your life, even if it meant leaving behind the Avengers and the man you loved. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, but you were determined to make it work. And maybe, just maybe, one day Bucky would understand why you had to go.

*

Your friend, Daisy Johnson stopped by for a visit just after you had moved into your new apartment. You hadn’t seen her for a few years, since she had decided to travel the stars with her sister, Kora and now boyfriend, Daniel Sousa. She had insisted on coming over to your place, since May had insisted that you find your independence.

"So tell me, what’s the deal with your love life?" Daisy enquired after her third glass of wine.

"What love life?" you asked, sarcastically.

She laughed, "oh come on! You’ve been living in a building with all those Avengers! You can’t tell me that it’s all completely innocent!"

"Hey, just because you fell in love with your first S.O.!"

"Ouch! That’s a low blow! It’s not my fault Ward turned out to be a HYDRA psychopath!"

"No, he was out of this world."

"Literally!"

Both of you laughed, despite the pain that was associated with the memories of the parasitic inhuman who had infested and possessed the corpse of your dead traitorous colleague and used his body to control other inhumans. Sometimes there was nothing else to do but laugh.

"So, are you telling me that you haven’t gotten any sex since you moved in there?"

You shrugged.

"Not even Bucky Barnes? Like have you seen him?" Daisy had always expressed her attraction to your favorite super soldier, but she stopped as she noticed the change in your expression. "What is it? Did something happen with him?"

"No," you shook your head.

"Then why did you leave?"

You shrugged.

"Come on, spill. May wouldn’t tell me. But it’s got something to do with him, right?" Daisy scrutinized your face, coming to sit beside you. "Did he hurt yo-?"

"NO!" you responded before she had the chance to finish. "Not like that."

"But he did something."

"Bucky’s my best friend." You said, not being able to muster enough enthusiasm into your words for them to be believable.

"But?"

"We just clicked, you know? Right from the start. It was like we were made to be partners. We could share everything with each other, we knew what the other person was going to do in the field without even discussing it. But outside of that too, I felt like I could share anything with him. I even told him about…"

You didn’t have to explain yourself further, Daisy Johnson was the only other living person in the world who knew about the sexual abuse you had suffered as a teen. You had never told a soul when you had been an adolescent, fearing that you wouldn’t be believed, which had led to a lifetime of shame and a stigma of being seen as broken. But secrets often come out, whether you want them to or not. And during a mission, the man who had been responsible for your trauma was involved. Eventually your secrets had surfaced, no matter how deep you buried them, but Daisy had been there for you.

"But I thought there might be something more between us, something… as hard as I tried… I couldn't deny - I was… am in love with him."

"You are?"

"I never told him how I felt. I was afraid of ruining our friendship. But it feels like fate had other plans and he started dating Priya. I was happy for him, of course, but deep down, I couldn't help but feel … jealous.

"And as his relationship with Priya went on, I just found myself feeling more and more envious. I couldn't stand the thought of someone else being with him, especially when I knew how I felt. But I kept my feelings to myself, not wanting to cause any trouble." You sighed.

"What changed? What made you leave?"

"Bucky's birthday. I spent weeks planning the perfect gift for him, something that would show him how much he meant to me. But before I could give it to him, Priya just swooped in and stole my idea, presenting it to Bucky as if she had come up with it on her own.

"Bucky was thrilled with the gift, but when he turned to me expecting something from me, I- I didn’t know what to do. I couldn't bring myself to tell him that Priya had taken my idea, so I stayed silent. Daisy, he was so angry and hurt, thinking that I didn't care enough about him to get him a gift.

"In the end, he chose Priya over me, believing that she cared for him more. He said he loved her based on something I came up with! And I tried to apologize and explain, but he didn't … doesn’t want to hear it. He said felt like he never knew me, like our friendship had been a lie. Now he doesn’t even want me in his life!"

Daisy put her arms around your neck, pulling your head onto her shoulder. The wine had loosened your tongue and talking through what had happened was helping you to truly understand what had happened.

"I can’t believe this bitch!" Daisy muttered in your ear. "Want me to quake her for you?"

You let out a watery chuckle. "I just feel so alone. I know that it’s my own doing, I could have told him how I felt. I could hardly blame her at first, she had no idea. But now…I fucking hate Priya for coming between us, for stealing my chance at happiness with Bucky." You scoffed at your own words. "You know, deep down, I knew that it was my own fear and jealousy that had drove us apart in the first place. I let my feelings get in the way of our friendship, and now I’ve lost the one person who means the world to me." Talking to Daisy had given you time to take stock and really process what you had lost.

"So what’re you going to do now?" Daisy asked.

"What am I supposed to do, Daisy?"

"Let him cool off and try again!"

"And say what exactly? Take me back as your friend? I’m in love with you? He clearly doesn’t feel the same way, so what am I achieving other than getting hurt watching him being happy with someone else?"

"You could come with me, Kora and Daniel. We’re heading back off-world next week."

"And watch you and Daniel making those lovey-dovey faces at each other all day? Thanks, but I think I’ll pass."

"So you’re just going to teach? With May?"

"Yeah," you shrugged. "Teach and wallow about my sad, loveless life."

"You know I love you, right?" Daisy pouted at you.

You laughed, "yeah, I love you too."

Once Daisy left, you continued to think about Bucky. You missed the easy camaraderie you once shared with him, the way you could finish each other’s sentences and laugh until your sides hurt. But now, there was a distance between you that seemed insurmountable. Bucky had made his choice and you were left to pick up the shattered pieces of your friendship. You wondered if he ever truly understood how much you cared for him, how much he meant to you.

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[stanuary]

The Stanuary 2024 Themes have been chosen!!

Thank you all so much for voting! This year our four winning themes have been brought back from the past by your votes, and paired with four new mystery themes hand picked by your humble Stanuary mod.

Week One: Lost & Home (with 67 votes)

Week Two: Possess & Sacrifice (with 68 votes)

Week Three: Fantasy & Memories (with 71 votes)

Week Four: Strangers & Brothers (with 76 votes)

With two themes each week, you're free to pick and choose how to use them. Do one or both, combine themes, or ignore them altogether and do your own thing! There's even more ideas to be found on the Extra Prompts page if you're looking for some added inspiration, and Stanuary Bingo if you want to make a bonus challenge out of it!

Are you a Stanuary newcomer? Check out the About page, FAQ, and Guidelines here for what it's all about and how to participate!

I'm doubly excited to see what you all create this year! Have fun!! ♥

[sunshine-daisies-library]

emergency contact | calum hood x fem!reader

FUCK this took so long and took so many twists and turns but i have finished lads

summary: you end up in the hospital after an accident, only to find that your emergency contact number hadn’t been updated. you are yet to find out if it’s a blessing or a curse. 

word count: 8.9k

warnings: self doubt, talking down about oneself, she/her pronoun usage, swearing, breakups, angst, drinking, car accident, hospital mentions, injury mentions, mentions of weed, partying, fighting

author's note: it might be rushed at the end and there's no set timeline of events, so it might not align with the true events IRL.

i also would like to say that we support girls here! no hate toward anyone, girls support girls!

In defense of yourself, you hadn’t expected to be back in Los Angeles so soon. Nor had you anticipated an accident like this to update your contacts on your phone. It was on the back of your mind, yes, but you had intended to change your emergency contact list on your phone for events like these. It was something you’d remind yourself occasionally, only to push it off for the next day, then the next day, then forget about it altogether. 

And perhaps you were too cowardly to change the list. You didn’t admit this to another soul since it had been nearly a year since the two of you broke things off. Your friends time and time again had persuaded you to put yourself back on the market, to get over the musician. But how could you? You had dedicated the best years of your life to him, nearly six of them. You thought you were going to marry the man, but life had other plans. 

That being said, you still loved him. The small act of removing him off your emergency contacts list felt so final to you. Like that was the end of your sad little love story with him. Truth be told, it was the end. It was the end from the moment you broke things off with him. You were just too stubborn to admit that to yourself. 

It was your doing, wasn’t it? You were the one to tell him it was over. He had just gotten back home from their tour and went to greet you with open arms. You had been wretched enough to deny him that, pulling away immediately. You ignored his eyes when you told him you were tired of your lifestyle. Of waiting on him like a dog for him to come back from tour. Of relishing that one month of being together like it was the last thing on earth, only for him to leave once again for tours or writing retreats. 

And most of all, you were tired of not feeling enough for him. In the world of popular and beautiful stars, why did he stay with you? Calum never made you feel so ordinary, not on purpose, at least. You had nothing to offer him other than your love. You feared that wouldn’t be enough in the end. The more years that passed, and the closer the possibility of marriage became, you thought it would be better to let go of him first before he ended up resenting you for not choosing someone better when he had the chance. 

You didn’t listen to his pleas for you to stay. Or his professions of love for you, or how his promise to leave the band entirely if it meant you staying. You felt so cruel to let someone who loved you so much go so easily. He was willing to give up his music for you, so how could you ever claim that you were second best to his music? 

But that was the very thing, you were afraid. He loved you so much that he was willing to let his entire life go for you. You couldn’t let him do that to himself, to let go of his happiness. But you had enough self dignity to know that you deserved more out of life than waiting in an empty home to fill up again. 

—

Calum wasn’t sure what to make of the phone call he received just a moment ago. He never thought he’d hear your name again, much less be summoned to the hospital to see you. 

“Mate, why are you still here?” Ashton asked, tucking away his drumsticks. “The nurse called you a half hour ago. Aren’t you going to see her?” 

“I don’t know,” Calum uttered truthfully. “It’s been so long since I last saw her. It was probably a mistake, right? Why would they call me up?” 

Michael rolled his eyes from the couch where he was tuning his guitar. “Because you’re still down as her emergency contact,” he drawled sarcastically. 

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious,” Calum deadpanned. “I mean, why would they call me and not her parents or something? Or her new boyfriend,” he muttered under his breath. 

Luke approached the group from the bathroom, running his fingers through his hair. “Easy there, tiger,” he teased, grasping Calum’s shoulders from behind. “One might assume you’re jealous.” The youngest of the group quickly dodged the bassist’s shove, laughing while doing so. “To calm your worries, no, she doesn’t have a new boy in her life. And her parents moved to the east coast three months ago so they can’t come over.”

“Well aren’t you the stalker,” Ashton snickered. 

Luke shot the drummer a glare. “I’m not a stalker,” Luke defended himself. “In case you actually wanted to know, I still keep contact with y/n. At least Sierra does for the most part. Though, last time I heard she was in Boston.” 

“Boston,” Calum spoke up in confusion. “What’s she in Boston for? And how did she end up here?” 

Luke clicked his tongue, a knowing look on his face. “If you want to know, you can ask her yourself,” he sang in an annoying tone. 

Michael set his guitar down and stood up in defense of his friend. “While that’s true,” he began. “What about..you know?”

“What about “you know?”” Ashton piped up. “There’s no harm in Calum going. She could really be hurt and need someone with her. If what Luke said is true and you’re the only nearby emergency contact, it’s better safe than sorry that you go to her.” 

The boys shared a look with each other. In their heart of hearts they knew it was a bad idea to let Calum go, especially after everything that had happened. But a selfish part of them wanted their best friend back, so what harm was in that notion? 

“I’ll go,” Calum finally relented. “But she’s coming with me.” 

–

When Calum arrived at the hospital, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting. The doctor explained it was a car accident, and although you were recovering okay you still had to be observed after minor surgery. A part of Calum’s heartstrings tugged at the thought of you alone and afraid during the accident, thinking he could have done something if you hadn’t broken things off, but he pushed that feeling down. It’s been a year; you’ve probably gotten over him and he’s started a new chapter of his life without you. 

Calum followed the nurse to the recovery room where you were still unconscious. At the sight of you, he instantly lost all air in his lungs. Frozen, the bassist stood before you with a mix of emotions flooding through his face. 

It was as though you were entirely different but still the same in some way. Your face, albeit bruised, looked more peaceful than Calum had seen of you. Hell, even before you broke things off you always had a furrowed brow or frown of some sort. It broke Calum’s heart to know that he was the cause of that stress. 

Calum sat down beside you, instantly grasping your hand like second nature. It was just as soft as he could remember, and your nail polish was chipped and stained the skin surrounding it. Calum chuckled to himself, a tearful smile on his face. He knew your nail polish was your own doing, seeing as you had always asked him to paint your nails since he had “more precision.” 

“Oh y/n,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “What the hell did you get yourself into now?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

Calum jerked back to see your eyes staring back at him. “Hi, stranger,” you managed to crack a smile. “What brings you to this hospital?”

Calum choked out a laugh, his thumb grazing against the top of your hand. “Oh you know me,” he said. “Always hanging around these parts whenever I get the chance.” 

“You idiot,” you snorted, shaking your head and wincing in pain.

“Easy now,” Calum reached over to cup your cheek. “The doctor said you have a mild concussion and a sprained ankle, but nothing a bit of rest can’t fix.”

Your hand met his on your face, instantly warming to his touch like nothing had changed between the two of you. “Why are you here, Hood?” you asked curiously.

“You tell me.” Calum pulled out his phone and showed his past calls list. “I got a call from the hospital saying I was your emergency contact.” 

You dropped his hand and covered your face in embarrassment. If your headache wasn’t killing you, the sheer embarrassment was. “Oh my God,” you groaned. “I’m so sorry, Calum. I had meant to change it but I never got the chance and–”

“It’s alright,” Calum calmed you down. “Relax. I’m not mad or anything. If anything, this gave us a great opportunity to reconnect and catch up on things. It’s been what, a year?”

One year, three months, twenty eight days, and twelve and a half hours, the both of you thought subconsciously. But who’s counting? 

The both of you were. Clearly.

“Something like that,” you lied smoothly. “How are you? How are the boys? I’ve kept contact with Crys and Sierra, but I haven’t had a chance to meet with them both. I was actually planning on shooting them a text as soon as I landed here, but obviously I haven’t had the chance.” 

Calum laughed at your blunt humor. He missed that a lot about you. “I’m alright,” he replied. “The boys are great, too. They send their love, by the way. We’ve been cooped up at the studio writing and producing music, though you probably expected that from us.”

Ouch. Was that a dig toward why you broke up with him? “Naturally,” you grinned. “Do I make a special feature in this album? The trashy ex that broke up with the bassist as soon as the tour ended? You best get back to the studio, I’m sure this whole debacle has given you something to write about.” 

“You are far from trashy,” Calum countered, continuing the light banter. “And I’m not going to throw your dirty laundry out like that, I have some taste, you know.” 

“Oh come on,” you pressed. “That hoe called me back, gave me a heart attack,” you sang terribly, making Calum cover his ears. “Oh yeah she broke my heart, that’s not even the start-”

“Oi, quit that!” he laughed. “Leave the songwriting to me because good God that was terrible. Any more of that and you’d put me in the hospital bed next to you. And please do not call yourself a hoe. That’s worse than Luke calling Ash “daddy.”” 

Once your laughter had died down and you ran out of lyrics to spew, a comfortable silence filled the room. His chocolate brown eyes rested down at your joined hands. 

“Thank you, by the way,” you spoke to break the silence. “For coming. You didn’t have to do that.” 

“For my trashy ex?” he teased, a smirk dancing along his lips. “I’d do anything.” 

God why did you break up with him? He was perfect, still is. Why does he still tug at your heartstrings and make you weak with one smile. How could you still feel this way after a whole year? Do you still love him-

“Babe, there you are! This place is a maze, I could barely understand the nurse’s directions.” 

You turned your head so fast, you nearly got whiplash again. Standing before you was a beautiful girl with the most luxurious beach waves and tan that every girl dreamed of. 

She bent down to kiss Calum’s cheek swiftly, making your breath hitch without you realizing. The girl smiled at you, taking your hand -that Calum instantly dropped at the sound of her voice- and squeezing it. “You must be y/n,” she concluded cheerfully. “I’m Tia, Calum’s friend.” 

–

“They are so not friends,” you grumbled to your friends, days after the initial encounter. 

Your friends chuckled at your gray demeanor, each of them taking sips of their coffee or bites of their breakfast. After being discharged from the hospital, the band and their significant others thought it would be perfect to catch up with you during brunch. You had agreed, eager to learn about everything you missed, especially the new couple. 

“You’d be right and wrong, n/n,” Michael replied, setting his mug down. The group was significantly more relaxed to talk about the subject considering Tia needed to take a phone call and Calum insisted on accompanying her. “The way they’re friends isn’t the same as how he’s friends with us–”

“Speak for yourself, baby, Calum keeps my bed warm whenever Sierra’s out,” Luke teased with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Sierra rolled her eyes playfully, elbowing him in the ribs. 

“And Luke keeps mine warm when they’re both gone,” Ashton chimed in without missing a beat.

Michael sent the youngest and oldest members a glare before continuing. “As I was saying,” he huffed exasperatedly. “They’re in the weird phase between friends and dating. They met a little after the tour and were friends for a while. It was Tia that made the move on Calum, like, two months ago.”

Noticing the stark difference in your facial expressions after hearing Michael’s explanation, Crystal came in to quickly finish the story. “He hasn’t confirmed or denied anything, but they have been on a few dates. He’s taking it very slowly.” 

“That’s..nice to hear,” you slowly began. “But the more I hear about her, the more guilty I feel about feeling this way.” Your shoulders caved in as your friends shared a concerned look. “She seems sweet, and Calum and I are old news. It was my own decision to break things off in the first place.” 

Sierra reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “Why did you break things off with him?” she asked in a quieter voice. 

You couldn’t help but notice how the rest of the group leaned in to hear your answer. “You mean Calum didn’t tell you?” you inquired the boys. 

“He just said it was mutual,” Ashton raised his hands up in defense. “I didn’t know you broke it off with him.” 

“Why didn’t you tell us she broke up with Cal?” Luke whisper-shouted to his partner. 

Sierra only shrugged her shoulders. “I thought you knew,” she responded, her hands grasping around her mug as she took a sip.

“No one knew,” you settled. “And it’s going to stay that way.” 

The group let out shouts of disapproval that were instantly quieted once Calum finally returned and took a seat. “What’s the fuss about?” he asked curiously. 

You shook your head, taking an overly healthy sip of your mimosa. “Oh you know,” you sighed. “Typical group shenanigans, as per usual.” 

“What kind-?” he pressed before being curtly interrupted.

“Where’s Tia?” Luke cut in, saving everyone’s necks for the time being. 

Calum took in a draw of breath after stealing Luke’s cup of coffee, much to the singer’s distaste. “Oh you know,” he copied you teasingly. “Manager calls, as per usual.” 

“She’s been getting plenty of calls lately,” Crystal commented. 

You tried to not show immense interest in the conversation. After all, you didn’t know much about Tia and the group had been too distracted to show you her Instagram profile, damn Michael and his random tangents. In the meantime, you absentmindedly twirled your straw between your thumb and forefinger as the conversation continued. 

“Tia’s getting a lot of public interest, what can I say?” Calum responded. “Her videos are getting more views every day. Her manager’s been calling her nonstop since companies keep reaching out to offer brand deal after brand deal.” 

Ashton let out a hopeful sigh. “Imagine having a brand deal set for life,” he pondered aloud, setting his salad fork down. “I’d adopt more goats and expand the garden.” 

“Cool it, Old McDonald,” Michael snickered. “I can’t imagine the band doing brand deals. Remember One Direction and their Pepsi commercials during the Super Bowl? Louis hated them.” 

The table laughed, recalling the memory. Recognizing your confusion regarding Tia’s profession, Sierra leaned in. “She’s an Instagram influencer and interior designer. She went to school for design but has branched out since. Last time I browsed her page she was doing promos for some yoga company.” 

“Great, so she’s perfect,” you grumbled to yourself, quiet enough for only Ashton to hear since he was right beside you. The drummer snorted, elbowing you roughly. 

Calum, thankfully deaf to your comment, nodded along to Sierra’s explanation. “She’s great,” he hummed. 

Your heart clenched at his words, but a hopeful side of yourself couldn’t help but perk at his courtness. Of course, it could be just to spare your feelings to not speak much about her. But a selfish part in your mind wondered if it was because she wasn’t his missing piece, the way that you fit perfectly for him. 

Stop that, you scolded yourself. Calum is no longer yours, you made sure of that. You were the selfish one who pushed him away. Why do you continue to torture him when he’s finally happy, no thanks to you. You can’t continue to pull him back, that’s why you broke up with him. And here you are,  falling back into old habits. 

You blinked back your tears, the tears you had so desperately fought back since the day you broke up with him. You didn’t deserve to shed these tears when you caused the problem in the first place. Instead, you sucked in a breath and maintained your rigid composure. It’s better than falling apart, which you more than desperately wanted to do at the moment. 

“y/n, you alright?” Calum asked, breaking you from your trance. 

You jumped slightly, lifting your head to face the group. Forcing a smile, you nodded. “Perfectly fine.” 

–

You weren’t sure why you were called here. After becoming mutuals on Instagram (and thoroughly stalking her pristine profile) Tia was quick to invite you out for yoga. You weren’t too keen on attempting yoga with a certified instructor, much preferring to save face in front of the already perfect girl. However, you found her nice and sweet enough to befriend despite the heartache it caused you. 

“I’m really glad you agreed to come with me today,” Tia told you honestly as you finished your session for the day. 

You settled yourself onto the mat, easing yourself into a simple stretch. “I’m glad you offered,” you replied, grunting at the ache panging slightly in your ankle. You were careful not to apply extra stress on your injured foot since it was still tender to the touch at times. “I’ve been eager to relax, especially after that accident.” 

“And you deserve it,” Tia reassured you, beginning her own routine. “Yoga’s good for recovery and stress, I’ve always tried to convince Cal into joining but he wasn’t the most graceful learner.” 

You giggled, recalling how clumsy the bassist would be. “Yeah, I’d leave that to Ashton.” 

Tia nodded in agreement. Her fingers danced down her leg as she continued to stretch. Even as jealous as you were of her, you had to admit she was graceful in everything she did (and you were sure of it with a simple browse through her Tiktoks). 

The two of you stepped out of the yoga studio, mats in tow as you continued to talk about random nonsense. On the walk back to your friend’s house -you had been staying there for the time being-, you came to realize that Tia was as genuine as they come and found it very difficult to dislike her out of jealousy. 

“So you know how Cal and I met,” Tia began, referencing the story of how the two met at an awards show. “How did you and Calum meet and get together?” 

Your mouth went dry. She knew you and Calum were a thing in the past? “I-“ you stammered. 

Tia laughed at your sudden awkwardness. “I’m not dumb, you know,” she joked. “I knew about yours and Cal’s past. He talks a lot about you, you know? More now than ever now that you’re back.” 

You had to stop the butterflies forming in your stomach. “He does?” you catch yourself saying instantly. 

Tia nodded, uncapping her bottle and taking a sip of water. “Oh yeah, big time,” she answered. “It’s really sweet to know that you made such a big impact on his life.” 

Your cheeks began to warm at her words. “He did the same,” you responded with full honesty. Tia patted your shoulder and grinned. “To answer your question, I met Calum a little over ten years ago, once the band started getting famous. I was just a senior in high school when they moved to L.A. I interned at their studio and that’s how we formally met.”

Tia gave you an impressed nod. “You guys got history,” she mused. 

You couldn’t help but smile. The memories of the past always brought a smile to your face. Dyeing Michael’s hair and staining your bathtub red, constantly buying Ash bandanas whenever you came across one you knew he’d like. Luke coming to you when he had writer’s block, and Cal crawling through your bedroom window whenever he felt homesick and wanted someone to talk to. 

“We do,” you agreed. 

Turning a corner down the street, Tia continued to ask you questions. “Who asked who out?” she questioned. “Three years of being friends turned partners was clearly not an overnight thing.” 

“It wasn’t,” you said. “It was Calum who asked me, but it took a whole lot of convincing from the boys.” You laughed quietly to yourself, recalling how he asked you to be your girlfriend. 

You heard music playing softly in the night air. You had been studying nonstop for your college finals and hadn’t seen the outside of your dorm all day. You hadn’t called the boys in a while either since they’ve been touring the world after releasing Sounds Good Feels Good. You were significantly proud of them but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss your boys. Now, hearing the soft guitar strumming from outside your window made you feel more longingful for them than ever. 

Especially Calum. You had a soft spot for the bassist, everyone knew that. You spent the most time with him when you interned at the music studio. He trusted your opinion above everyone else’s, and reached out to you the most while on tour. To say you had a little crush on him would be an understatement. The boys teased you relentlessly and teased Calum much more. They always said it was a matter of time until one of you would cave in and confess to the other. But they were wrong. You’re here in a small college dorm with no air conditioning single as can be while the boy you loved was halfway across the world. 

“Thinking of you,” you texted Calum with a heavy heart. “And the boys, ofc :P” 

You set your phone down and attempted to go back to studying when your phone pinged again. 

“You don’t have to feel so blue, n/n,” he responded. “Look outside”

You hopped out of bed and opened your window as much as the old rusty thing could go. On the campus grass were your favorite boys flashing lights from their phones at you. Calum was resting on Ashton’s shoulders, waving at you with the wild boyish smile you loved with your entire being. Michael and Luke were beside him, Michael playing the guitar and Luke grinning and filming. 

Concentrating hard, you recognized the sweet melody. It was the very song you wrote with him, Beside You. 

“She sleeps alone

My heart wants to come home

I wish I was, I wish I was

Beside you”

Your heart did somersaults at the presentation before you. You had always begged Calum to sing more for the album but the boy was too shy. It took some pushing but you helped him get his confidence up. Taking a cardigan, you ran out of your hall and joined the boys on the lawn, tackling each of them into a hug. 

“What the hell’s wrong with you!” you shouted out with a grin. You didn’t care if your yelling woke up your peers. Your boys were here in the flesh. 

“We missed our girl,” Ashton told you, giving you a strong bear hug. 

“One of us more than the rest,” Luke added with a cheeky smirk. 

Calum had long been off Ashton’s shoulders, awaiting your hugs he missed so much. You, on the other hand, hesitated to do so. 

“Come on!” Michael playfully shoved you. “We’ve come all this way, give the boy a hug!” 

Your face was on fire. The extra pairs of eyes made you embarrassed. Calum took an extra step forward, his hands bashfully in his pockets. 

“Didn’t you miss me, sunshine?” he asked you, awfully shy now after his confession of love. He was nervous he put you off and that he read the signs wrong. 

“I did,” you whispered back, equally shy. “But I think I want something more than a hug.” 

The boys let out whoops and cheers of joy as you decided to bite the bullet, grabbing Calum by the loops of his jeans and pulling him into a kiss.

Once you had pulled away, Calum’s lips formed into a dazed smile. “Be my girl, sunshine?” he asked you softly.

You pressed your lips against his once again, though this one was much shorter. “I was always yours, Calum.”

“Why did you and him end things, y/n?” Tia asked you, bringing you out of your thoughts. You seemed to be stuck in a trance these days, always pondering over the past and what could have been. 

You chewed the inside of your cheek, truly at a loss of words. What could you say? That you had been selfish and pushed him away so that he wouldn’t end up hurting you first? That you drove the knife deep into Calum, twisting it in every way shape and form out of self preservation? There was no other way to put it than that in your mind. 

“Time heals but also kills,” you told her with a broken smile. “Cal and I decided to put ourselves out of our misery and end things while they were good before it got worse.” It wasn’t completely a lie. Sure, he had no say in your ending things, but you spoke the truth about putting him out of his misery.

“Do you still love him?” she asked. 

You glanced over at her. Her eyes shone in the light, curious and innocent. She didn’t know the pain you both had endured that landed you in this position. 

Yes, your heart cried out. You love him. You love him with your entire being, that’s why you let him go. Because you’d rather kill your soul every single day of your life than stop him from reaching his life goals. If you had to go through that awful night that you broke your own heart again, you would, just to ensure that he is happy. 

Even if that meant that he would be happy with someone else. 

“He’s my first love,” you told her tearfully. “Of course I love him. But I am not his love, and that is okay with me. Life goes on, and so should I.” 

The two of you stopped in front of your friend’s house. Tia took your hand and squeezed it. “I really do appreciate you coming along with me today,” she said earnestly. “And I’m glad I got to hear about you and Cal’s history. It really puts things into perspective.” 

You smiled back at her. “Thank you for having me,” you responded. “I hope my words haven’t changed anything between the two of you. I meant what I said; him and I are in the past. I truly want the both of us to move forward and grow in our own separate ways.” 

Your butterflies in your stomach turned into fierce wasps, stinging you sharply. Lies, your heart hissed. Tell her you love him and still want him. 

You forced the bile rising in your throat down. Tia, blind to your inner troubles, continued to speak. “That’s actually what I wanted to ask you,” she chuckled nervously. She grabbed your other hand, bringing them together. 

“I wanted to ask Cal to be my boyfriend,” Tia confessed.

Crack. There goes your heart.

Tia seemed to notice the dip in your lips and immediately retracted. “But I don’t want to overstep or anything!” she rushed. “You and Cal have history, I’m not stupid enough to deny it. And that’s okay, that’s no one’s fault. If you still love him and want him, I’m not going to get in the way. Calum, well, it’s clear he loves you, too. I’ve heard countless amounts of stories about you to not get the memo. I really like Cal, I do. But that can’t go up against love.” 

This was your chance. To right your wrongs from the past and take back what you truly wanted. Calum. You could take this moment to run to his house right now and take him back, and you’d have Tia’s full support. Zero guilt. 

But why did it hurt so bad? 

No. You made your bed, you have to sleep in it. It doesn’t matter if the bed was built of blades of self doubt and hate, you have to slip into the sharp sheets and let it pierce through your skin. You created your own mess. It is you alone that must deal with it. Not Calum, and surely not Tia. 

You’ve made enough problems for everyone as is. 

You mustered enough strength to let go of Tia’s hands and instead cup her cheeks. “Tia, honey,” you whispered calmly. “Our love is in the past. I’ve missed my chance, and I have learned to live with it. I’ve seen the way Calum looks at you, and that’s something that can blossom into something beautiful. There’s no need to dig up something that has already run its course.” 

Tia’s lip trembled at your words. You nodded carefully. “You don’t need my permission or anything to date Calum. You don’t owe me anything. You both deserve to be happy, and clearly you make each other happy.”

“Are you sure?” Tia asked. “I promise you, it won’t hurt my feelings or anything if you still want him.” 

“No, Tia,” you reassured her, despite the burning feeling in your chest. “Please, make him happy. Make him happier than I could ever make him. He deserves that much.” 

–

Two weeks have passed since your encounter with Tia. Last thing you heard was that the two were very happy indeed, but you didn’t hear if they made it official. You had plenty of dates with the girls, but you insisted on changing the subject whenever they brought Calum up. You feared that if you heard about him one more time, you might burst into tears or do something stupid. 

You finished up your work from the office in your friend’s house. Grateful to be able to work from home for the time you stayed in L.A., you had to admit that sitting on a chair from 9 to 5 made you quite sore. Eager to stretch your legs, you decided to take a walk to the local park. 

However, it wasn’t any random park. It was the place you and Cal used to have endless dates when he was back from tour or the studio. You’d lay on the blanket he took from his apartment at the time and stare at the stars. Back when you both didn’t have much, you’d snack on soup crackers you took from each time you went to the diner across the street and share a can of Coke Cal took from the vending machine after work. So many secrets were shared at this park, and so many memories were made, too. 

“I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who still frequents this place.” 

You jumped to see the last person you expected at this place. Calum gave you a bashful smile before sitting beside you on the grass. You took in the last hour of sun beaming down your skin before the sky went dark, closing your eyes and tuning out the sound of the infamous L.A. traffic. 

“How can I not?” you quipped. “This park is the only place in L.A. that isn’t stuffy or gross.”

Calum let out a laugh, quietly agreeing with you. “So what brings you here, Hood?” you asked, nudging his shoulder. 

The bassist could only shrug his shoulders. “Could say the same about you,” he hummed. “Sometimes I like to sit here and write music. Other times I just sit here and listen to the ambiance.” You nodded, crossing your arms on your chest and making sure to keep a safe distance from him. His touch was mesmerizing, but you had to remind yourself that he was no longer yours. 

“This place reminds me to stay grounded,” he told you truthfully. “When I get too in my head, I always go here, even after we broke up.” 

You dropped your hands to the grass, braiding the blades absentmindedly. “I’m glad,” you spoke up. Calum looked over at you, awaiting an explanation. “It’s too good of a place to let go after a silly little relationship.” 

“It wasn’t a silly little-” Calum fought back. 

“Let’s not talk about it, Cal,” you sighed exasperatedly. 

Calum instantly frowned. “Why not?” he pressed. “You never seem to want to talk about the good old days.”

“Because it wasn’t “the good old days,”” you insisted, lying through your teeth. 

Calum let out a stubborn huff. “Now that’s a lie,” Calum shot back. “But whatever, I won’t push.” A pregnant silence took over the two of you as Calum tried to find something to say. “Have you found yourself a new boyfriend yet?” he decided to ask. 

“Calum-” you began.

“You said not to bring up the past,” Calum argued. “This is the best I can do.” 

You shook your head at his words, giving in nonetheless. “No, I don’t,” you answered. 

“Are you not ready for one?” he asked. 

“I-” You took a moment to find the right words. “I need to work on myself before moving forward with someone else.” 

“Well, I don’t get that,” Calum commented with a snort. “You’re perfect, what could you possibly work on?”

You choked out a dry laugh, though there was no humor behind it. “Quite a bit, I’d say,” you confessed. “Calum, I was a mess, I still am. I can’t put someone through that again.” 

“You didn’t put me through anything,” Calum persisted. “And now that you mention us, I can’t recall anything that you did wrong in that relationship. It was all me.”

“No Calum!” you raised your voice, standing up abruptly. He quickly followed, standing up to meet your frustrated, tired eyes. “It was me. And I’m tired of you insisting otherwise.” 

“You said that I was always gone,” Calum reminded you, his voice matching the same volume as yours. “I don’t see anything that involves you in that.” 

You threw your hands in the air. “Because I was needy!” you exclaimed. “And I was pushy, and I hated being alone all the time–”

“But I’m right here!” he yelled back. You took a step back in shock. He was never one to raise his voice at you, even when you fought in the past. It was your throat that got raw in those arguments from having a shouting match against yourself and losing hopelessly. “Goddammit y/n I’m right here. And I promised you that night that I would always be here if that’s what you wanted.” 

Tears began to stream down your face as you pulled your hair in anger. “You don’t understand, Calum,” you cried out. 

“Then help me understand!” Calum took a step closer to you, taking your hands in his. His brown eyes were desperate, searching yours for an answer. “Please, sunshine, let me in.” 

For a moment, you almost faltered. You nearly gave in at his sweet words and use of that old nickname. But Tia remained in the back of your mind, and guilt sunk in once more.

You released yourself from his touch, looking away from his eyes. “You can’t call me that anymore,” you whispered to him. “I can’t, Calum. I just can’t.” 

Calum watched you back away hopelessly. “y/n,” he sighed.

“I’m leaving for Boston in two days,” you told him. “I’m sure Ash told you that already, though. I overstayed my welcome at my friend’s house. I should start packing.”

The bassist followed you to the gate of the park. “But I feel like we should talk about this,” Calum pleaded. 

Your fingertips grazed the gate, the cool metal sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll see you at the party, Calum.” 

– 

When you told the boys the date you were going back to Boston, Ashton jumped at the opportunity to throw you a goodbye party. In addition to catching up with you and spending every moment available with you, the boys insisted on planning the “biggest party of the century” for your departure. 

“I still don’t see the necessity for all of this,” you told the three boys with a shake of your head. 

“Trust us,” Ashton said with a wild grin. “We all need this.” 

So here you were, casually sipping your cocktail in the corner of Ashton’s home while their exquisite rager took the house by storm. Sierra and Crystal stayed by your side throughout the night, insisting  to keep up with each other while you were away. This time, you made sure to not end contact with them the way you did last time. Tia had also been in the group but left some time ago to deal with something. 

“Are you sure you have to leave?” Luke asked, pouting dramatically. “L.A. isn’t the same without you here, n/n.” 

You ruffled his hair playfully. The singer was always a little brother to you, no matter how close in age the two of you were. “I do, bub,” you said in a sorry voice. “I don’t think my boss could stand another week without me in the studio.” 

“Then move back to this location!” Michael proposed, raising his glass and nearly spilling his drink on the floor. “Transferring wouldn’t be a bad idea, would it? The studio would love to have you back, producing and doing whatever else you do.” 

You laughed at Michael’s drunken state. You were having a lot of fun relishing in the last few moments with your friends before leaving them once again. You almost didn’t realize the shouting that was going on in the dining room of Ashton’s home. 

The entire group ran to the source of the noise to find Calum standing on the dining table with Tia pleading for him to get down.

“Calum, babe, please,” Tia shouted. “You’re causing a scene.” 

All guests turned to see what was going on, especially to see why the bassist of 5 Seconds of Summer was shouting complete intelligible nonsense. 

Ashton ran towards the edge of the table. “Mate, you need to get down,” he begged hurriedly. “You’re not thinking straight, you need to get down before you get hurt.”

“No,” Calum insisted, his words slurring slightly due to his inebriated state. “I need everyone to listen to me.” 

Someone had managed to find the speaker and turn it off so everyone could hear Calum. Your heart was beating out of your chest, not from the alcohol buzzing through your system, but because of the drunk boy standing before you. 

Calum raised his cup to the crowd. “I’d like to raise a toast to the girl who broke my heart,” he announced sloppily. “The “heartbreak girl” herself, y/n l/n.” Calum clapped loudly. He was the only one who was clapping while you stood there in shock and humiliation. “I loved you, you know?” he sniffed. “And I bloody well still do. Tia’s great, though. Absolutely nothing wrong with you, Tia, I hope you know that. But you’re not the one. y/n right here, she’s the one.” 

His brown eyes, red from drinking and smoking God knows what, teared up as he looked down at you. “But what I can’t figure out is why won’t she love me?” Calum threw back the rest of his drink and winced at how strong it was. “I was getting ready to propose to you, you know?” he told you. “I had the ring in my pocket, and I was just waiting for the perfect moment.” Calum chuckled to himself bitterly. “Guess I fucked that up tremendously.”

“Calum, stop,” you pleaded. 

“Why should I?” he asked you incredulously. “You didn’t stop packing your things when I asked you to. You didn’t stop running when I chased after you in the dark. You didn’t stop when you booked that flight across the country to run away from me.” 

Tears were streaming down your face now. “It wasn’t like that, Cal,” you cried. “W-we broke up for a reason-”

“And that’s what I can���t wrap my head around!” he shouted. “You barely gave me a reason! You told me you never saw me anymore. I was willing to make more time for you, to end my career for you, to get down on one knee and be with you, and that wasn’t enough! There had to be another reason-”

“There wasn’t, Cal!” you sobbed. “So drop it, please.” 

Silence spread throughout the whole house. No one moved an inch, too shocked to make a single sound or move. All that could be heard was the sounds of your messy sobs that you failed to keep in. Cal dropped his cup and gestured his hands at you. 

“The Heartbreak Girl, everyone,” he announced with a broken sigh. “Hope you enjoyed this one hell of a show, with your heartbroken host, Calum Thomas Hood.”

You ran out of the house as fast as your feet could take you. The air was brisk in your lungs, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care when the man you loved poured his heart out to you, only for you to squash it like it was nothing. 

“y/n!” you heard a voice call out for you. You whipped around to see Tia, scrambling to catch up to you. In the back, you could see the band -minus Calum- and their significant others peering out the glass door to see what was going on. 

Tia grabbed your hand tightly. “y/n, fuck, I’m so sorry about Calum,” she apologized, swearing profusely. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. First we were talking about our relationship then-“

“Please, don’t bring up your relationship,” you cut her off, roughly shaking your head. “I know I gave you my blessing, but please I can’t bear to get my heart broken again.” 

“You don’t understand!” Tia pushed. “We don’t have a relationship to begin with! y/n, I never asked Calum to be my boyfriend, I just couldn’t. I couldn’t interfere with a love as great as yours and his.”

You stumbled backwards. “What?” 

Tia nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “y/n, you and Calum are endgame, don’t you see? I only talked to him tonight to explain that you still loved him. I guess he was too caught up in the alcohol to think rationally.” 

“Tia,” you said, voice dripping in disappointment and dread. “That wasn’t your secret to tell him.”

“Were you going to say anything?” she shot back. “You weren’t, so I had to take matters into my own hands. n/n, I’m a firm believer in fate and second chances. This is your chance at making everything right-“ 

“But I can’t!” you cried, ripping your hand away from hers. “Don’t you get it? I’m the one that’s killing him! I put him through hell and I can’t continue to do that. Why can’t you see that I’m a fucked up mess that ruins everything I touch? I love Calum, I’ll never stop loving him, but I’m not blind enough to not see that my love is torturing him slowly.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. Tears reappeared in the corner of your eyes, but you were too tired to wipe them away. “I’m never going to be enough for Calum,” you confessed. “That’s why I broke up with him. I can’t watch him waste his life away on a girl that’s only going to disappoint him. I’m not like you, Tia. I’m not perfect, or beautiful, or smart, or anything remotely interesting. And one day, Calum is going to see that and realize he missed his opportunity to find someone good for him, someone that he deserves.

“I don’t deserve him, Tia,” you finished in a broken whisper. “I never will. So I’d rather fade into the background and be a distant memory than become a face he can’t stand to look at.” 

“That’s not true,” Tia insisted, tears gracefully falling down her beautiful face. “y/n, you have to believe me when I say that’s not true.”

A car drove down the street, approaching the two of you. You let out a sigh of relief, recognizing it as your uber. “I don’t have to believe you,” you replied, opening the car door. “My word is all that I need.”

—

Calum woke up the next day with a pounding headache. He groaned aloud, sitting up on the couch and cradling his head. He wished he was drunk enough that night to forget everything that happened, but he remembered every single detail. From the beat of the bass from the stereo to the way your dress hugged your curves he loved to kiss and hold. 

He finally pushed you away, he realized. And for good, this time. Calum felt dread and regret rush through his system, and all he wanted was to crawl into his bed and sleep his life away. 

“You know grumbling isn’t going to cure a hangover,” Tia’s reprimanding voice rang through the living room. 

Tia. Calum jumped up to face her where she had been leaning against the door frame.

“Oh Ti,” he sighed, covering his face in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry for last night, I must have humiliated you. I’m a right idiot, and I’m so sorry I put you through that.” 

“Oh shut up,” Tia laughed, walking over to him and sitting him down. “I can’t say that I wasn’t hurt, but I also can’t say I was surprised with how things turned out.” Calum hung his head low, ashamed of his behavior. He never wanted to hurt either of you. “Cal, you don’t have to be so sullen. It’s okay, there’s no hard feelings or bad blood between us.”

When Calum couldn’t bring himself to respond, Tia decided to take it a step further. “I always knew you loved her,” she confessed. “That’s why I brought it up to you last night. I wanted both of you to work things out. She really does love you.” 

Calum let out a bitter laugh. “She sure has a way of showing it,” he muttered. “Tia, don’t make me feel worse by feeding me lies. It hurts enough that I hurt both of you, don’t make it worse by saying that bullshit.” 

“I’m telling the truth!” she fought back. “y/n still loves you, she told me that herself.”

“Then why did she break up with me?” Calum retorted. “If her love never left the table, where was it when she broke things off? Correct me if I’m wrong, Tia, but I don’t think that’s how you treat the people you supposedly love.” 

Tia screwed her eyes shut, heaving out a sigh. “She loved you so much, she thought you deserved more,” Tia finally explained. “She let you go so that you could find someone better, someone who makes you happier.” 

“That doesn’t make sense,” Calum shook his head, eyebrows furrowed in thought. “How could she think that? No one could be better than her, um, no offense.” Tia snorted at the last part. “If anything, I thought I didn’t deserve her.”

“Well you’re both idiots,” Tia deadpanned. “You two clearly love each other more than life itself but were too blind to see you were perfect for each other.” 

Calum’s shoulders caved in as he drowned in his thoughts. His hangover headache was piercing his skull but he couldn’t care less. He couldn’t process why you’d ever think so lowly of yourself when he praised the ground you walk on. 

“How can I go back to her and repair things when I never realized she was hurting?” he asked. “Why would she ever want me back when I wasn’t there at her lowest? All the signs were there. She stopped calling me every night to talk about her day while I was away. She’d dodge my Facetimes with bullshit excuses that I failed to point out.” Calum huffed to himself, beating himself up critically. “What makes you think I won’t fuck up again when she needs me?”

“Because you’ve learned from your mistakes before,” Tia told him, rubbing his arm soothingly. “And you can learn from them again. That’s what I like about you, Cal. You always made an effort to better yourself, no matter the challenge. And if you truly love her, you’re going to end up fine.” 

Calum smiled softly at Tia’s words, raising his chin to look her in the eyes. “I love her so much,” he whispered. The bassist took her hand, squeezing it affectionately. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with us, Ti,” he apologized genuinely. “I really do hope you find someone who is willing to lay down their life for you.” 

“I’ve watched two lovers reconnect like no time has passed at all,” Tia smiled back. “Trust me, I have the groundwork laid out for what’s ahead of me.” 

Suddenly, Calum’s phone began to ring. Lunging towards the arm of the couch, Calum pulled his phone off the charger and read the caller ID. Eyes wide, he looked at Tia who gave him a knowing look. 

“I’ll start the car.” 

–

You opened your eyes, immediately squinting at the bright light. You were met once again with the familiar feeling of a skull splitting headache and aching ankle. 

“Must you always get yourself into these situations?” 

You turned to face those brown eyes and cheeky smile you adored. Calum shook his head in disbelief, taking your hand in his. “I thought you said you’d change your emergency contact,” he said in a scolding tone. 

Your face was on fire at his words. “I forgot,” you told him honestly. 

Once again, you ended up in the hospital with similar injuries to what you received at the beginning of your trip. But instead of a car accident, you’d clumsily fallen down the stairs on the way to your Uber to the airport. Luckily a neighbor next door heard the ruckus and loaded you into the Uber straight to the hospital. 

“Or it’s fate,” Calum suggested, resting his hand on the side of your head. 

“Calum,” you tried to counter.

He stopped you instantly. “I know why you ended things,” he simply told you. “And I think I deserve a say in it.” Closing your mouth, you let him speak. “You’re wrong, y/n. You do deserve me as much as I deserve you. And I love you no matter what. I don’t need a famous celebrity as my partner when I have you in my life. None of that superficial stuff matters to me, y/n, you know that. And I know that for as long as I live and you forget to change your emergency contact list, I’ll always come for you.” 

Your heart fluttered, and you allowed yourself to feel hope for the both of you. “But what if someday down the line you want more?” you asked in a small voice. 

Calum blinked away his tears. “What more can I want?” he said in response. “You’re all I want, y/n. I’m so sorry I ever made you doubt that.” 

“Don’t apologize,” you laughed, tears beginning to fall, too. “It was my stupid brain that made me doubt in the first place.” 

Calum leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. “So is that it?” he asked. “Are we done doubting? Will you finally come home, y/n? Be with me forever?” 

You raised your hand to cup his cheek. He instinctively leaned into your touch. “With you,” you told him surely. “I’m always home. I’m yours, Calum Hood.” 

–

if you enjoyed, please like and reblog! it would mean a lot to me <3

[arcane-vagabond]

Trapped in Silk: Chapter One

Trapped in Silk: Chapter One

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The world has been turned on its head ever since news spread that vampires are not only very real, but many have walked the earth undetected for centuries. You keep to yourself, head down and out of everyone's way. That is, until you bump into a stranger while avoiding a group of men chasing after you. You think you've seen the last of this stranger, only to run into him once more. Your life is turned upside down as he envelopes you into his life and into his riches. Are you a passing fancy, or are you the latest addition to his treasure trove? Only time will tell. (Vampire!AU)

Content Warning: Reader is chased, Derogatory names directed at reader, Creepy men being creepy men, Cursing, Blood, Dismemberment, Vampires, Pet names, Threats, Flirting, Awkward Reader, Reader making not the best decisions. I think that's it, but please let me know if I've missed something!

Word Count: 3.1k

Masterlist || Series Masterlist

You cursed lightly under your breath at the sight of the group of men standing around the entrance to the convenient store. Normally, you wouldn’t have stopped, but you had been too busy to make your weekly grocery run on Sunday, and you were fresh out of pretty much anything to eat in your tiny apartment. So, it was either stock up on the essentials or live off of fast food until the weekend.

You wish you’d let yourself starve.

They weren’t a rowdy bunch, and perhaps that’s what made you so nervous to approach. These men weren’t like the groups of loud college boys that hung around this same store. No, these men had an edge to them, something you couldn’t quite place. A sensation pulled at your gut, and you frowned, the sensation not altogether unfamiliar. You had experienced the same feeling several times throughout your life, almost like a sixth sense. You had learned to ignore it, keeping your head down and wanting little to do with the limelight that came with pursuing sensations like those. You’d seen the psychics on TV from time to time—usually when your grandmother had them playing in the background growing up—and you wanted no part in it. You weren’t psychic, you were just really good at guessing.

Maybe if you kept saying it, you’d believe it one day.

You pulled your coat tighter, more to hide yourself than to stave off the early winter chill that crept along the sidewalk, and you tilted your head down as you marched past the group of men.

You could feel their eyes on you, but you didn’t linger to let them get a good look. Blinking against the shock of the fluorescents, you wrinkled your nose as the warmth of the convenience store stung at the apples of your cheeks. You surveyed the aisles before grabbing a small hand-held basket and moving towards the frozen section. It wasn’t ideal, but the convenience of pre-made food would have to do until you could make an actual grocery run.

It wasn’t that you thought you were too good for the processed food, you just liked the rituals of cooking every night along with making your lunch for the next day. It was a relaxing part of your day, a sense of accomplishment that you didn’t have to associate with your menial job.

Your eyes wandered down the aisles as you passed, stopping in front of the pre-made food section. The sandwiches didn’t look too bad, maybe a little bland, but they’d surely get you through the week. You picked a couple of roast beef and turkey ones, turning your attention to the different bags of chips available. You wanted to keep your fast food runs to a minimum, but the convenience store only offered so much for you to choose from. With a sigh, you grabbed a couple of bags of chips, not really caring what kind you grabbed.

There were a couple of other people milling about the store, some casting nervous glances towards the exit—not that you blamed them, of course.

You walked as casually as you could towards the register, the older man paying you little mind as he began to scan your items. You shifted on your feet nervously, hands clenching and unclenching in your coat pockets as you gave another quick glance towards the doors. Maybe if you covered your face enough…

“Did you drive here?”

You glanced up at the clerk, a wary grimace on his face as he followed your line of sight. You pressed your lips together with a shake of your head. No, it didn’t make sense to have a car in the city—not when public transport was readily available. Maybe if you lived further out in the suburbs.

“No,” You replied. “It’s only a couple of blocks to my apartment though. I’ll manage.”

“I’ve tried calling the cops a couple of times,” the clerk continued, scanning the last of your items. “Said those guys keep scaring my customers, but they don’t do anything. Even threatened to fine me for wasting their time, the bastards.”

You made a sympathetic noise in return, taking the bags from him and bracing yourself for the inevitable. Maybe you should have just gone home, come back on your lunch break tomorrow. It was too late now.

“Stay safe, miss,” the clerk called after you, worry creasing his brow as he leaned over the counter to watch your retreat. You offered him the ghost of a smile before pulling your coat closer, hoping the lapels would obscure your face enough in the shadows.

The automatic door chimed as you stepped through, a gust of wind whipping around you as you stepped out onto the walkway. The sharpness of the cold dug into your skin, clawing its way down to your bones and sending a shiver up your spine as you gasped at the sudden sensation. Mistake number one.

“Well, hey, sugar,” purred one of the men, sliding off of his perch atop the bike rack, a leering grin on his face. Dark hair ruffled in the wind, casting shadows across his face but doing little to hide the sinister look in his eye. “You look cold. How ‘bout we help warm you up.”

Mistake number two was assuming he wouldn’t follow you as you turned on your heel to walk in the opposite direction.

“Oh, now don’t be like that, baby,” he called after you, a couple of chuckles ringing out from his friends, the sounds of footsteps echoing behind you. Mistake number three was not running back inside the convenience store to call a friend to take you home.

You picked up your pace slightly, trying not to draw attention to your rising panic as your heart hammered in your chest. Your nostrils flared as you tried to keep your breathing even, your groceries starting to feel heavy in your hands.

“Hey, bitch, I’m talking to you!”

You broke out into a run, your bags jostling at your sides until one by one they fell from your grip, colliding with the sidewalk below, but still you kept running. Your feet carried you as fast as they could, lungs burning as your eyes scanned the streets for signs of anyone who could help you.

This is the city, you thought. How is there no one walking around?

You supposed most people tried to stick to the safety of the indoors now that the new threat of vampire kind was out in the open. No one wanted to be the unsuspecting victim of a thing they had long thought to be a myth.

“When I catch you,” snarled the man behind you, closer than you would have liked, “you’re going to regret ever even being born.”

You willed your feet to move faster, willing the shadows to hide you from the impending threat behind you. How could you have been so stupid? Why didn’t you call for a ride?

Help me, you thought. Your muscles ached and threatened to spasm as you continued your sprint. The buildings began to blur together, all looking the same through the haze of your fear and tears. You choked on a breath, gasping for air that wouldn’t come as you veered right.

Please.

Your teeth chattered as the wind rushed around you, your nose and lips growing numb the longer you stayed out in the cold.

Someone help me.

Could you hide? Would you have enough time to duck into an alley to find a spot, or would they find you still? Would anyone answer their speakers if you rang. Would you even have time to explain what was happening?

Please.

You scrunched your eyes, pressing forward as you rounded left on the corner, only making it a few feet before you ran into a wall. You grunted, stumbling back and almost falling on your rear before a set of strong arms wrapped around you, keeping you steady. Not a wall, or at least not an inanimate one.

Hands settled on your waist, and you cowered for a moment, thinking one of the men had caught you. You gazed up, meeting cerulean blue as they stared down at you, an unreadable look on the handsome stranger’s face. For a moment, you felt relief as you realized that the man in front of you was, in fact, not one of the men who had been chasing you. Your shoulders sagged in relief for just a moment, your hands tightening in the stranger’s black shirt.

A cold breeze kicked up, sending another shiver through you and cooling the hot stream of tears that ran down your face. You shivered at the sensation, subconsciously leaning into the stranger for warmth. He continued to study you, a furrow in his brow that seemed more perplexed than put out. The stranger opened his mouth as if to say something, stopping as the sound of feet hitting the pavement came up behind you.

“That bitch must have-” The other man stopped, his companions slowing behind him as well. A sneer curled on his lips as his dark eyes spotted you. “Well, well. Looks like you had the bright idea that it was better to come with us than run away.”

The stranger tightened his hold on you, a low growl sounding in his throat as you trembled. Something dangerous flashed in his eyes, the irises seeming to almost glow as he listened to the man in front of you.

“Get behind me,” he murmured, guiding you to stand behind him. Your body trembled at the sound of his voice, not from fear, but from the way it rang in your ears—like warm liquid. You allowed him to maneuver you, his hands moving from your hips up to grab the lapels of your coat, pulling them tighter around you.

“Now close your eyes,” he continued, the lilt in his tone hard to resist. You obeyed, lashes fluttering against your cheeks as his hands smoothed over your shoulders. “Don’t look until I tell you to, no matter what you hear, okay?”

You nodded, earning a low hum.

“Words, draga mea.”

“Yes,” you managed, voice sounding small even to your ears. Fingertips danced across your jaw lightly before pulling away.

“Good girl.”

You sensed more than felt him pulling away, your body swaying towards him. You scolded yourself internally at your reaction to this stranger.

Must be the adrenaline, you thought.

“Look, pal,” the man chasing you snickered, “we don’t want any trouble. Listen, I’ll even let you have her after we’ve had our-”

His words cut off with a sickening, wet sound followed by silence. A moment passed before all hell broke loose around you.

“What the fuck?” The man shrieked, and you couldn’t help but open your eyes, letting out an involuntary gasp at the sight. The man’s left hand was missing, spurts of blood shooting out as he grasped the stump with his right hand, leaning over in pain.

“What the fuck?” He repeated, dark eyes wide in shock as they glanced from the stump that used to be his hand, up to the tall figure in front of him.

“Dude!” Shouted one of his companions, the burly man slowly backing up as he looked at the stranger in front of him. “It’s a fucking blood sucker!”

“That’s right,” the handsome stranger said, inspecting the blood that coated his gloved hand, head tilting as if considering something. “I’m a ‘blood sucker.’ So, if you want to keep your lives, I suggest you run.”

The men stood paralyzed, limbs visibly shaking as they stared at him. You couldn’t say you didn’t feel the same in that moment, even with his ire directed elsewhere. The stranger let out an irritated sigh, rolling his shoulders as he fixed the group of men with a less than impressed look before waving them off with a flick of his wrist.

“Now.”

The men didn’t hesitate this time, turning and running like their lives depended on it, and you supposed they did. You startled as the handsome stranger turned back to face you, a disapproving look on his face as he saw your eyes wide open.

“Draga mea,” he admonished, walking over to you slowly, ignoring the way you tensed up as his attention was fixated on you. He stripped his gloves slowly, pocketing them as he stopped in front of you. Cool fingers traced your jawline, moving to cup your chin between his thumb and pointer finger to lift your chin up.

“I thought I told you to keep your eyes shut,” he tutted, thumb running along your bottom lip. You gasped at the sensation, eyes growing wide at his familiarity before gathering your wits about you long enough to take a step away from him.

He’s still a stranger, you reminded yourself, a small frown tugging at the corners of your lips. And a vampire to boot. Don’t let your guard down.

The man in front of you smirked, as if able to read your mind, and for a moment you wondered if he could. You squared your shoulders, clearing your throat as you looked him in the eye. The smirk grew into a lop-sided grin as he watched you, a kind of fondness lighting up his gaze.

“Thank you for your help,” you said, hugging your coat tighter around you, suddenly very aware of the winter chill that surrounded you. “I should get going though.”

You began to walk away, stopping as the stranger took a step towards you, his grin replaced with another frown.

“Alone?” He questioned.

“Yes,” you replied, watching him warily. The man shook his head, coming up to stand beside you.

“That won’t do, draga mea,” he purred. “Let me walk you home.”

“Look,” you turned to him, feeling the irritation bubble up inside you at his insistence. You stopped as you realized you didn’t know this man’s name.

“Bucky,” he supplied, a twinkle in his eyes as he peered down at you. You took a deep breath, avoiding his eyes to keep from making a complete fool of yourself.

“Bucky,” you repeated. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate you saving me from those creeps-”

“You’re welcome,” he ginned, leaning forward.

“Because I do,” you continued, pointedly ignoring him. “But I’ve already taken up enough of your time, and I’m really not that far from my apartment.”

“Nonsense,” he waved you off. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t escort you home? To make sure that you’re safe?”

You hummed, crossing your arms and eyeing him as he gave you another boyish grin. You could point out the fact that he was a vampire on top of being a stranger, that was two strikes against him. As if reading your mind once more, Bucky put his hands up in a placating gesture.

“I promise to keep my hands to myself,” he vowed. You stared at him for another moment before sighing.

“Right,” you muttered, starting the walk towards your apartment. Bucky fell into step next to you, an easy silence falling between the two of you. It was Bucky who broke the silence first.

“What were you even doing out here in the dark on your own?”

You gave him a sharp look from the corner of your eye.

“I needed groceries,” you told him, stopping dead in your tracks with a groan. Bucky arched a brow at you in question as you grimaced.

“My groceries,” you pouted, running a hand through your hair. “I dropped them after those guys…”

Bucky made a sympathetic noise, nodding his head in understanding.

“Do you want to go back?” He asked, gesturing towards the way the two of you had just came. “We can get you some things to replace all of it.”

“No,” you sighed, feeling the weariness seep into your bones after a long day and an even longer night. “No, thank you. I think I just want to go home.”

“You’re sure?” He asked, blue eyes studying you. “It’s not a problem.”

“I’m sure,” you smiled, though you knew it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I appreciate it, but I have work in the morning, and it’s already late.”

“Alright then,” Bucky nodded, falling back into step with you. The silence was filled with tension, but for what reason, you couldn’t place. You felt his eyes on you the entire time, studying you still as you hunched your shoulders to try and hide from him. What was he looking at? Was there something on your face? Was he planning on how to best trap you and drink you dry? Was he just toying with you at this point?

“Your heart is pounding, draga mea,” he purred, his hand brushing against your coat sleeve. “What has you so worked up?”

“N-nothing,” you stuttered, feeling your cheeks warm with embarrassment. Bucky hummed, a twitch of his lips your only indicator that he found this whole situation amusing. You rounded another corner, breathing out a sigh of relief as you spotted your apartment. Your gait quickened, Bucky matching your pace easily until you stopped at the stairs leading up to the entryway. You stepped up onto the first step, turning to face Bucky with a bashful smile.

“Well,” you gestured back behind you, “this is me.”

Bucky arched a brow at you, an amused smirk on his face as you fiddled with your fingers awkwardly.

“You’re not going to invite me in?” He questioned, that familiar smirk taking purchase on his lips once more. You spluttered, eyes growing wide as you tried to think of how to answer. Bucky’s smirk transformed back into that boyish grin once more.

“Kidding, draga mea,” he chuckled. You scowled at him, though there was no real heat behind it.

“Well,” you blew out a breath, “thanks for walking me home and, um, saving…me.”

“No thanks necessary,” he assured you. “But, I would like your name.”

Your cheeks grew even hotter at the realization that you had never actually given this man your name. You supplied it, and he repeated it in a low rumble, as if tasting it on his tongue.

“It suits you, I think,” he nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets and shooting a wink your way. “Well, I’ll see you around, doll.”

He backed up, eyes trained on you as a devilish smirk stretched across his lips before he turned around and continued on his way. You watched after him until he disappeared around the corner, blowing out a breath as you looked up at the starless sky above. Part of you hoped you never saw him again, but another, darker part of you prayed you did.

A/N: And here's chapter one! The man, the myth, the legend! Bucky is so interesting to write, and I'm excited to delve into his character and see what kind of person he's going to be! Can't wait to hear thoughts!

As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. I no longer do taglists, so if you would like to be notified on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @sailoraviator-library ) and turn on post notifications! You can find me and my works on AO3 under the username arcane_vagabond. Until next time!

[especially-obsessed]

#icanteven

pt. 3

#icanteven - The Neighbourhood 

"I can't even, I can't even believe what you did to me You can't even, you can't even say I'm overreacting I can't even, can't even hear your side Shame on me, you fooled me twice"

Summary: series; Sam cheats on you.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader, Dean Winchester x reader

Warnings: descriptions of depression, guilt, anger, infidelity, fluff

Word count: 2.3k

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

A Month After

“Dean?” You spoke clearly into the phone. 

“Who’s this?” he responded gruffly, not recognizing your new number. You hesitated, contemplating hanging up altogether. Before you can respond, you hear Dean suck in a jagged breath. “y/n?” he says, barely above a whisper. You let out a sigh of relief, not having to explain who you were to someone you had known so well. 

“Hi,” you replied awkwardly. You can hear Dean let out his own sigh of relief. “Dean, I-”

“Where the hell have you been?” he asks, cutting you off. Straight to the point. Oh-kay.

“That’s not important. But I’m in Kansas right now. About an hour from the bunker. Meet me at the Moondance Diner on 48th Street. 12:30.” you can’t help but bite your lip, waiting for his response. 

“Okay, sweetheart, we’re on-”

“Just you,” you say, your heart lurching at the mention of him showing up with someone else. With him. Dean was silent, choosing his next words carefully. You wondered who else was in the room with him, causing his hesitation. 

“Okay, I’m on my way.” The line disconnected. 

You sat alone in your ‘borrowed’ car, parked somewhere off the side of the road by a cornfield. You were so close to home that you knew these roads like the back of your hand. You could drive to the bunker with your eyes closed from this point. Which also meant that it was not going to take Dean an hour to get to the diner. You put the car in gear and pulled back onto the road. There was no way to tell how Dean was going to react to seeing you. You flipped on the radio to distract yourself from the thought, ignoring the pit that was slowly growing in your stomach. 

“It was her, wasn’t it,” Sam said, rounding the corner of the library. He had been in the hallway when Dean answered his phone. His intuition told him not to walk in just yet. Dean stared at Sam, choosing whether or not to lie to him. He knew he couldn’t get away with it. 

“Yes,” he said dryly. He shrugged on his jacket and made his way to the staircase. 

“I’m coming,” Sam said, grabbing his own jacket off of the table. Dean stopped abruptly, swiveling on Sam, who had quickly closed the distance between them. His boots whimpering against the concrete floor at the sudden change in pace. 

“The hell if you are,” he said. He didn’t miss the hurt in Sam’s eyes at his reaction. “The last thing we need is for her to see you and bolt again. The whole reason she left in the first place was because of you,” he let the last word out with a bite. “So no, you are not coming with me. Let me handle this,” Dean finished, leaving no room for Sam to respond as he continued up the staircase. 

Sam was frozen in place, his eyes glossing over. The bunker door creaked as Dean opened it, and Sam nearly jumped out of his skin as it was slammed shut. Sam set his jaw and took in a deep breath, not knowing what to do with himself.

You chose a table in the very back of the diner by a window. You wanted to see when Dean pulled up in that beautiful car of his. It had been 35 minutes since you called him. And you were actually excited to see him, the feeling taking over your anxiousness. 

The car’s engine alerted you to his arrival before you even looked out the window to see him. You grinned to yourself, knowing who the next bell jingle would be signifying. Sure enough, you watched as Dean glided into the diner, instantly scanning and searching for your face. You pushed back your chair and made eye contact with him. He wasted no time in walking to you and embracing you. You breathed him in deeply, missing every single thing about him. Dean let out a forced chuckle. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” he mumbled into your hair. He let you go and held you at arm's length, scanning over your body, checking for any major injuries. 

“I’m okay, Dean,” you said, wriggling free of his grasp on you and sitting down at the table.

He nodded and sat down across from you. Your waitress showed up with water for both of you, but Dean paid her no attention. He was waiting for her to leave. He was waiting for you to say something. She almost looked disappointed at his neglect. When she finally left, you spoke first. 

“Dean, I’m so sorry,” you started shakily. You could already feel tears pricking at your waterline.

“Where have you been?” He asked you again, more questions lingering behind his eyes. 

“Around,” you state simply. Dean scoffed, opening his mouth to say something when the waitress walked back to your table. She sets down two cheeseburgers with fries and extra onions on the side of Dean’s. He smiled half heartedly at the gesture. 

“You’ve been hiding from us, from me,” he said, pushing his burger to the side. Not a good sign. “It was like we were always two steps behind you. You deliberately picked places we wouldn’t have checked, used aliases that you’ve never had before. You ditched your phone. You went through all of that trouble to just be, what, around.” He scoffed, shaking his head. He was hurt; you could see it plain as day. Running with the Winchester boys as long as you have, you’ve picked up on their tells. Especially Dean’s. His closed-off expressions and backhanded retorts. He wasn’t mad, he was upset. 

“I was running from Sam, okay? I knew you would try to find me, and he would do anything possible to try and talk to me. I just couldn’t face him, Dean. Not after what happened that night-” You cut yourself off, feeling your throat start to close just at the thought. You quickly picked up a fry to try and hide your own pain. 

But Dean knew you just as well.

He wasn’t here to justify his brothers' actions. Far from it. He just wanted to see you. To make sure that you were okay. To bring you back home. 

“y/n, please, you don’t need to keep running,” he said to you. You refused to look up, feelings of guilt and despair circling around in your head as you picked at your burger bun. Dean reached across the table and grabbed your hand, forcing you to look at him. “Stop running. Come back to the bunker with me. Come home,” he pleaded. You could feel the sincerity in his voice. 

“You know I can’t do that. Not while Sam is still there,” you said flatly, pulling your hand free of his. You chuckled, though it was void of anything funny. “And it’s not like you would kick Sam out for me. Not that I would ever ask you to.” You watched as Dean’s shield went back up, trying to mask the pain from his face. He sat back and looked out the window at the diner parking lot, at a loss for words. He knew you were right. He could never choose between you and Sam, and you would never ask him to do so. 

“Dean, I just wanted to meet up with you and tell you that I’m okay. And that I miss you. I miss the bunker, I miss Cass,” you pulled out your phone and typed in Dean’s number, knowing it by heart now. You sent him a text message, saying your first name only. “I just sent you my new phone number. I’ll still be around. We can still talk,” you attempted to reassure him. He looked back at you, his shield still up but faltering. 

“I didn’t save your contact earlier. Figured you used a burner,” he said dryly. You gave him an unimpressed look, like a teenager who was just told their outfit didn’t match.

“Dean, stop,” you said, starting to get upset at his tone toward you. No matter what you had gone through, Dean never spoke to you this way. You clenched your fists, digging your fingernails into your palms, feeling your anger starting to bubble up inside of you. 

“So what, this will be the last time that I see you? I just get your new phone number and then you’re gone?” he continued. Too far. 

“Damnit, Dean, I said stop!” you raised your voice at him, slamming a fist down on the diner table. Breathing deeply, you glanced at the table across from you. The couple quickly looked away, embarrassed to have been caught staring. 

“Are you kidding me?” you asked in a hushed voice. “You honestly think I could go on with my life, never seeing you again?” you asked, surprised by his accusation. Surprised by your own outburst. “No, no, I’m just moving on. I’ll still be hunting, moving around the country again, like before I met you guys.” you fiddled with your fingers, not knowing what else to say. This wasn’t going exactly as you had expected it to. Dean was far more hurt than you had anticipated. “You can always call me Dean. You know, if you needed me, I’d be there in a heartbeat. I just can’t go home.”

You watched Dean’s face as he processed what you had just said. He knew you were hurting. He just always thought that you’d be coming back home one day. There was no use in him pushing you any farther. You had made up your mind, and you weren’t going to budge. He knew you well enough not to push you much more. He cleared his throat and pulled his burger back in front of him. He picked it up with both hands and looked at you over the top of the bun.

“So, where are you headed to next? I hear Florida’s nice this time of year,” he says, taking a bite from his burger. You smiled and picked up another fry, feeling a sense of normalcy sink back in. 

The two of you had been talking for a few hours, discussing everything from music to the restaurant you still wanted to try across the country. You spent time reminiscing about old hunts and people that you had met along the way. Dean asked if you needed any of your things from the bunker, and you shook your head. 

“Clean slate. I traveled with everything that was super important to me. Everything else either belongs in the bunker, with you guys, or in the garbage,” you said, taking another bit of pie. Dean nodded, almost finished with his own. You pushed your plate forward and smiled at Dean. 

“I need to take off,” you said, saying the words that you were both dreading. Dean shook his head again and sat still for a few seconds. He cleared his throat and set down his fork, his chair scraping against the floor as he stood. You mimicked his actions and stood as well. Before you could say anything else, Dean pulled you into a tight hug, nearly knocking the wind out of you. You hugged him back just as tight, though. Everyone else in the diner probably thought one of you was dying. You’d given them quite a show, after all. Dean was the first to let go, pulling out his wallet.

“I’ll walk out with you,” he said, pulling out cash from his wallet. You gave him a funny look. 

“Don’t you dare leave leftovers to that pie, mister,” you said sternly. You smiled at him, feeling tears start to well up. “Plus, I know you want to finish it…and mine.” Dean let out a gentle laugh. 

The reality of it was that if Dean walked out with you, your chances of going your separate ways would start to dwindle. There was a very real possibility that he could talk you into coming back to the bunker, even with as stubborn as you were about the issue. 

“Alright, alright. Don’t be a stranger now, you hear?”

“I know where to find you,” you said, winking at him. 

“Take care of yourself, kid,” he said, barely above a whisper. You smiled before walking away, unable to look at him any longer. You made a point to stop at the front counter before leaving, slipping your waitress money to cover the bill and a little extra. You looked back at Dean as she was finishing the order. He had sat back down at the table and already had his fork in hand, pulling your plate towards him. 

“Here you go, miss,” the waitress interrupted your thoughts. “Have a nice day,” she said with a bright smile, handing you back your change. 

“We’re all set, thank you,” you said politely before turning and heading out the door. You burst through the diner door and got in your car as quickly as possible, feeling your lungs tightening in your chest. Tears had started streaming down your face, but you refused to make a sound. You started your car and pulled out of the parking lot, checking your rearview mirror as you left. Dean had parked the Impala next to your car unknowingly, and it disappeared as you rounded a corner, leaving everything behind yet again. 

“I'm all set for the check whenever you get a chance, sweetheart,” Dean said, finishing off the last bits of your leftover pie. He glanced up at the waitress, now fully appreciating her large bust. He was too focused on you earlier to have even noticed. Wow. 

“The bill’s been taken care of,” the waitress replied sweetly. She set down a to-go box and receipt in front of Dean and wished him a nice day. Dean started to shake his head, thinking she had brought the order to the wrong table.

“I didn’t-” he started, but she was already across the diner, topping off a customer’s coffee. Dean stared at the receipt in front of him, analyzing the faded print on the receipt.  

[Paid for in cash. To-go order added: chicken caesar salad with extra dressing on the side] 

Sam’s favorite.

Series Masterlist

A/N: Sorry this is such a late post. Enjoy <3

Likes, reblogs, and follows are never expected but greatly appreciated! These let me know I should keep on doing what I’m doing! (:

Tag List: @deviltion @bollzinurmouth @jjkluvcloudsworld @all444amphitrite @fleumurrr @mostlymarvelgirl @barnes70stark @achillesthebambino @i-love-ptv @pressedwater @therealabadoodle @sarahsobsession @fyegall @mrsmckinnon @shadydelusionalvoid @mb1ndzus @crooked-haven

[euniexenoblade]

Choose Your Own Smutty Halloween Adventure - Round Two

"Hello there readers! This is a silly Halloween smut story! If you haven't read the prologue or round one yet, I recommend you do!"

"She's talking to no one again," the chained Delilah says off to the side, "all these people are fucking insane."

Mordred sighs, but ignores her. "Well, even though Delilah is trying to be a party pooper, I'd like to welcome you to the second round of The Fucking Game!"

An unseen crowd cheers and applauds.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Mordred waves at the reader. "Now, at the end of the last round we asked you, the reader, to select who Delilah would have a three way with!" More crowd cheers. "Now, let's see how that poll turned out!"

"Pumpkin and Priscilla are the winners!!!!" More crowd applause. Priscilla starts to fly and bounce with excitement. Pumpkin sits there. It is a pumpkin.

"Now, no more delay, let's commence the three way!" One final batch of cheers is heard.

Mordred walks off stage, as do Lilith and Slosha (well, Slosha slides).

No curtain falls. The wall that separates the contestants and Delilah rises. Hooded figures walk out and unshackle Delilah’s wrists and walk away. Delilah looks up and sees….nothing but a pumpkin on a chair. She scrambles to her feet and looks around, to her left is everyone that left the stage, standing in front of empty audience seats – they’re all grinning at her.

Delilah doesn’t understand what’s happening, but she sees this as her only opportunity to escape. Delilah runs straight at the empty chairs (well, empty except for a pumpkin), hoping to get around the group of monsters and escape. She’s about to make it to the end of the set when she feels something tugging her back. She’s slammed against the floor, but she can’t see anyone. She feels hands all over her, but she still can’t see them. It feels like someone is squeezing her tits, but it also feels like someone is pinning her wrists and legs to the floor.

The group off stage laugh as Delilah struggles against what she can’t see.

Then as if appearing out of nowhere, a woman appears, sitting on Delilah. She’s naked, hair long, big tits, see-through and she’s holding Delilah’s arms down. Delilah screams, but it means nothing, everyone off stage is laughing at her. The spirit lets go of Delilah’s arms, but Delilah still can’t move them, as if they’re permanently held down.

“Oh, my sweet girl, how I’ve longed to feel you…” the ghost moans as she slowly lowers herself onto Delilah’s cock. Delilah tries to scream again, but the ghost pushes her hands into Delilah’s chest, grabbing Delilah’s lungs, overwhelming her and disrupting Delilah’s breathing. As Delilah coughs and tries to breathe, everyone notices her cock starting to twitch inside Priscilla, finally fully erect. “Looks like we found someone’s kiiiink~” the ghost laughs.

With this, Priscilla grasps Delilah’s lungs tighter, cutting off breathing altogether. Delilah tries to thrash to escape, but she is pinned down still, held there by some unseen force, and Priscilla uses this thrashing to start moving her hips, fucking herself with Delilah’s cock. Priscilla lets off moans of joy, enjoying her toy for the moment, but Delilah gets little to no stimulation. She can barely feel Priscilla at all, more like a breeze pushing on her cock.

Priscilla, turned on so much from the sex, starts to ooze a viscous, light colored substance out of her crotch – her ectoplasm leaking all over Delilah. Delilah can barely tell though, her cock feeling practically nothing from all this as energy starts to leave her body and she starts to go a bit limp. Delilah finally feels like it’s time to give up her life, but through her pained gasps makes one final sound: “Puh…..Puh…..”

Priscilla replies with a simple “Hmm?” As much as Priscilla would like to watch the light leave Delilah’s eyes, she always wants to hear what the toy has to say. She loosens her grasp on Delilah’s lungs. Delilah gasps for air, coughing and taking in the biggest breaths she can. “What is it you want, little girl?”

Delilah is still coughing and gasping, “Please...please...let me cum before I d-die….”

Priscilla laughs. “I can’t let you die. Pumpkin hasn’t gotten any action yet…”

Delilah finally getting control of her breathing looks to her side at Pumpkin. “I’m supposed to fuck a pumpkin?”

“Yes, Pumpkin is a precious friend and it’s part of this three way.”

“I’m...I’m not fucking a pumpkin…”

“What’s with that attitude?” Priscilla giggles. “You want to cum don’t you?”

“Y-yes..”

“Your options are cum with Pumpkin or I’ll choke you to death and make you my toy eternal.”

Delilah lays there quiet for a second, her cock going flaccid. “N-no, I think I’ll choose death.”

Priscilla laughs. “No, you won’t.” Priscilla leans forward until her ghostly body disappears into Delilah’s own body. Delilah can move finally. She stands up to run but feels a force pull her back, as if something inside her body moved her back towards the chairs despite what she tried to make her body do. Delilah’s body walks to Pumpkin’s chair against her will. There’s a hole in the pumpkin. “Has that always been there?” Delilah thinks to herself.

Suddenly, Delilah’s cock goes from flaccid to semi erect in an instant, a trick from her ghost pilot. “N-no please don’t do this to me,” Delilah cries. But her cries change nothing. With both hands she picks up Pumpkin and sticks her dick into it. She tries to pull away, but the ghost’s control is too strong. Delilah thrusts, feeling the rough edges of the pumpkin on her cock until the head hits the gooey insides.

The group off stage howl with laughter, “Look at her go! She wants to cum so bad!” Lilith yells.

Delilah feels humiliated, forced to fuck a literal pumpkin. She thrusts, back and forth, back and forth, the roughness on her cock smoothing as she does. Priscilla grasps Delilah’s lungs once again, and she can no longer breathe. She struggles for air as her lower body continues to fuck Pumpkin against her will, her cock getting as erect as it can. “Pluh...please no” Delilah stammers out.

And, finally Delilah cums inside pumpkin. The humiliation no longer matters. The fact she could die from not being able to breath no longer matters. She’s cumming, and she’s going to make it worth every second. She humps faster and faster and faster. She can suddenly breathe again, choking on the new air, she doesn’t stop. Slamming her cock into Pumpkin as much as she can, she’s finally getting everything that’s been pent up out of her. Until she finally let’s go of Pumpkin, letting it fall back to the chair, realizing she wasn’t being controlled by the ghost anymore.

She turns around, and Priscilla’s ghostly body is with the rest of the group off stage. “You loved Pumpkin so much I figured I wouldn’t stop you!” Everyone laughs. Suddenly, all the shame and humiliation hits Delilah again. She just fucked a pumpkin, and wasn’t even being made to at the end.

Delilah falls to the ground, hands holding her head, and screams “Nooo!” Everyone laughs at her.

Hooded figures walk on stage and hit her with the stun baton from earlier. Delilah shakes from the shock until she finally goes limp. The hooded figures drag her back to her side of the stage and put the shackles on her wrists. The wall that separates the sides lowers as the contestants walk back to their seats.

Mordred walks back on camera for all to see, “Wasn’t that fun?!” The mysterious studio audience returns with a loud cheer. “A round of applause for Priscilla!” Applause is heard and Priscilla does a floating curtsy, before changing her shape back to that of a cartoon ghost and hovering above her chair. “And a round of applause for Pumpkin!” The crowd goes wild, cheering, whistling, chanting, roses are thrown at the stage from the audience, landing in front of Pumpkin’s chair.

Mordred motions for the crowd to calm down. “A fantastic performance! A great way to open round two!” The audience cheers more. “Now, you at home! It’s time yet again for another vote! One lucky contestant will have one final one on one with Delilah before the next elimination! So, readers, decide, who will fuck Delilah?!”

Delilah starts to stir awake. “Please no….no more….”

A hooded figure appears once more and shocks her with the stun baton, knocking her out again, and walks off stage.

[cinnbar-bun]

Hi. I hope you’re doing well at the moment. If not, feel free to push off writing this request or to ignore it altogether.

I’m curious to see what headcanons you have about Bruno and how he’d feel about receiving flower arrangements from a S/O.

Your wish is my command, nonnie!!!

Bruno Bucciarati Receiving a Flower Arrangement From his S/O

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~1k

Notes: Just fluff, plus a minor mention of Bruno's backstory in a bullet point (nothing major). GN reader as always, and just lots of loving for our fave capo <3 As well as cameos from the rest of the gang.

One thing that’s for certain is that your capo adores the flowers. He was rather shocked to see the florist hand deliver him such a large bouquet. 

At first, he briefly thought it was from you- but, well, that’d be kind of selfish to assume, wouldn’t it? So he thinks it’s maybe a thank-you gift from one of the many citizens in Napoli he’s helped. 

However, once he reads the card with the message you put on it, the adoration on his face is clear. He’s touched beyond belief. 

He immediately puts the flowers in a vase as a centerpiece for the table of their room. He’s kind of hoping that the others ask about it so he can proudly gloat that his lovely, wonderful partner got them for him. 

Mista and Narancia will whine and then wonder if they can ever get flowers from their s/o one day, and Bruno teases them by saying that if they get their act together, they just might. 

Fugo acts like he doesn’t give a shit but he’s pretty happy that Bruno is happy and has you as his partner. The young boy is grateful that there’s someone who takes care of Bruno after all Bruno does for everyone else. 

Abbacchio complains about the smell of the flowers, citing them as being too strong or something while he’s drinking his wine or listening to his music. Despite that, he’ll be damned before he touches or does anything to them. Bruno knows Abbacchio would never throw them out despite his complaints, so he often jokes back that Abbacchio is just jealous he is not getting flowers. 

Trish is wide-eyed at the gift you got Bruno, thinking it’s romantic, and remarks that the bouquet has to be super expensive. She joins in with Mista and Narancia about wanting a nice bouquet of flowers from her future lover. 

Giorno thinks it’s a nice gift and feels it says a lot about you that you would gift Bruno them. Especially if you took the time to arrange the bouquet or choose specific flowers/colors, it makes Giorno appreciate and think higher of you. 

Bruno would love any kind of bouquet you’d get him. He adores them and always, always, always will appreciate them and do his best to keep them alive and fresh for as long as possible (including, but not limited to, enlisting Giorno’s help to freshen them up)

That said, he does have different (but positive) reactions to the flowers depending on what type you may have chosen for him! 

If you got him roses (any color): he’d be extra romantic and sappy to you. Roses are the flowers of love, aren’t they? And this was most certainly your way of trying to show him your desire for him, wasn’t it? So he’ll pay it back by using more Italian pet names with you or more romantic gestures as if he were a lovesick puppy. 

If you got him a bright, colorful bouquet: he’d be quick to think it stands out from the rest of the room, but frankly, it was a necessary one. He would do his best to make the flowers stand out even more by using a colorful vase/glass and putting it directly in front of everyone. Everyone has to see this. He smiles brightly when he sees them, too, and it makes him think about how much light you’ve given in his life. He becomes eager to pull you close. 

If you got him a white bouquet (any flowers): He’d be more solemn and deliberate in his movements and decisions. Quieter displays of his affection will ensue, with him taking your hand to his and pressing kisses on it, buying your favorite food/drink, and whispering the sweetest words of poetry known to man in your ear. Those flowers were what he saw often during funeral processions, but it’s also seen in weddings, too. It’s a sort of reminder to himself that his time with you is limited and that every moment with you is a precious thing to be savored. 

If you got him a pastel bouquet: He reacts in a way that’s a mixture of the bright flowers and the white flowers. He reacts more on the quieter end, but is less prone to the feelings of nostalgia he may have had with the white flowers. He finds these ones sweet and gentle, and it, in turn, makes him act pretty gentle with you. Tons of romantic words in your ear and kisses peppered all over your face are what awaits you.

If you got him a bouquet with darker flowers: At first, he’s taken aback by the colors. Not in a bad way, they’re flowers and they’re from you on top of that. He’s just a bit surprised that flowers could be arranged in such a way, but it’s so unique like you? Oh my gosh? It’s unconventional but makes him smile, and he is proud to have them as a centerpiece. He’s quick to thank you and he will get more specific in his praises and compliments for you. More affectionate and grateful here, but more teasing as well. 

Seriously, buy him flowers, it makes his day- nay, his week(s)- and gives him more motivation. He’s not used to being treated often, but with you, every day is a treat, and every gift you give him makes him practically melt. 

Plus, how could you resist the wide-eyed smile he does when he realizes that you were the one who sent the flowers?

[nav-i-nav]

Actually, while we are at it, can we talk about how awful a lot of the fanbase treats Basil? My man can’t catch a break because almost everyone misinterprets him one way or another.

Where do I even start? Literally everything he does is taken the wrong way. There’s the people who characterize him as an obsessive yandere who only cares about Sunny and did everything in his power to isolate him. On the other hand, we have people who just remove one of the basic core aspects of him as a whole and make him an empty husk with no real personality.

Headacanon him however you want, but also try to understand him? I don’t know how people can say he only cares about Sunny when it’s clear he deeply appreciates his friends. He has a stronger bond with Sunny, but that doesn’t mean he’s a possessive and obsessed person who is toxic.

He definitely fucked up along the way, but his actions were never intended to hurt Sunny intentionally. He was in a panic and all he wanted was to keep his best friend safe. People constantly treat him as he’s a disgusting person for simple fact he shows mental illness signs, which is incredibly disheartening because there IS people in real life who act this way and can’t help it! What a relief it is to know people will treat me or my friends like this if we dare show an ounce of distress or panic!

Being mentally ill does not justify your actions, but this also doesn’t mean you are allowed to treat people who suffer from them like scum. People like Basil deserve to get help, to have people who support them so they can start healing. Basil clearly didn’t have that support, the only person that was there for him being his bedridden grandmother who he eventually lost.

And on the other hand, we have people who just choose to get rid of Basil’s personality altogether and characterise him as this character who is all suffering and trauma based off things that are NOT canon. It’s true that Basil’s life doesn’t exactly fit a “normal” childhood (having to live with his grandmother for unknown reasons) but that doesn’t immediately mean he is beyond traumatized? Basil is a little shy, sure, but a lot of people are. Basil used to be a smart and lively kid who loved his friends dearly. It wasn’t until AFTER the incident that he spiralled to the point he is where we see him in game.

People either disregard his trauma and paint him as a villain (let’s make one thing clear, there are NO villains in OMORI), or try to give him even more trauma for no apparent reason. All we know is that his parents aren’t really present in his life, and while that may bring some issues, from what we can see in cutscenes and the photo album, Basil lived a comfortable life surrounded by a loving family member and friends who cared about him.

You are free to explore Basil’s character however you like, but there’s a point where it no longer feels like Basil.

There is nothing wrong with showing his gentle side, just as how there’s nothing wrong to explore his unhealthy behaviour. But focusing on only one of the aspects of his entire self just turns him into a one-dimensional character with no redeemable qualities.

In my opinion, Basil is one of the best examples of a person struggling with mentally illness in media, yet people choose to ignore the complexity of his character to have either a selfish and dangerous yandere or a cute and shy femboy who’s only there to look pretty.

Write him like the mess he is. He is unstable. He is resentful, he is paranoid. That’s what makes Basil’s character so loved. That’s what makes him feel so relatable and human. Ignoring one side of his self takes away all of that. OMORI is a game about acceptance and forgiving. Why shouldn’t we apply those terms to their characters? It’s rather hypocritical for the fanbase to treat Sunny as a poor boy who only did what he did due to stress and trauma and then mark Basil as a psychopath with no redeemable features as if he wasn’t also a scared child who witnessed his very best friend push his sister down the stairs.