#or when i was laying down on the floor of my childhood home doing those kids game magazines

[takumisshorttemper]

Being the only one in my friend circle that still has all the physical media I consumed as a child feels so weird. They always react with "what do you do with all of that" or "i gave it all away/my parents threw it out years ago".

I have the whole collection of VHS my father had neatly stored right alongside the CDs that had been passed down to me by my mother (and i would've also kept all of her music cassettes if they still worked) and all the DVDs I used to watch as a kid. And this is just audiovisual media, i also still have all the books and magazines from my childhood on my bookshelf (or the great majority of it at least). I love all those possessions so dearly and the idea of getting rid of part of it or selling it or giving it away in some form pains me so much merely because of the memories, even though I might not be constantly in that media or maybe there is some of it that I don't like or even despise.

But at the same time i feel bad for holding onto it. i would like to be able to share it, to see it used instead of "gathering dust" but i cannot let go.

[vividxpages]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆ ﾟ｡⋆grieving methods ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡☾ ﾟ｡⋆

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 2500

summary: In the aftermath of your boyfriend's little brother's death, you try to comfort him as best as you can. (modern universe)

warnings: angst, grieving, hurt/comfort, crying, kissing and lots of tears

𓆩♡𓆪⛈

Silence greeted you as you quietly slipped into the house of your boyfriend.

You had been here countless of times before, but the rooms had always been filled with some sort of noise, keeping them busy and wonderfully alive. There usually was a warmth in them you often missed in your own home, but now it felt like all the lights had been blown out.

The funeral service had ended some hours ago, you knew that much.

You had not heard a single word from Jace since then.

You closed the door behind you, tucking away the key Rhaenyra had gifted you last Christmas, another big step of welcoming his eldest son’s girlfriend into her family. You were sure you’d gone insane today if it weren’t for the goddamn key. With no life sign of Jace, you had been worried sick all day. The service for Lucerys had been a very private one, given the nature of his tragic passing, and you had understood when you had learned only the closest family was allowed to partake.

It still didn’t mend the aching emptiness you had felt this morning, knowing deep down Jace needed you more than ever in those hours.

But you were here now. It was the least you could do.

You quietly made your way towards the staircase when you heard heavy steps across the hall, freezing. A pale and tired looking Rhaenyra emerged from the living home, her eyes puffy and exhausted as they landed on you.

You opened your mouth before she could. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked before, but-  I wanted to see if there is anything I can do to help and-“

“My dear girl.” She interrupted you, stepping forward until she could cup your cheek. “There is nothing to apologize for. I’m glad you’re here. I’ve told Jace to call you earlier, but he’s been in his room for a while now and we all decided to take some time for ourselves.”

You nodded in understanding, thinking of the other members of Jace’s side of the family you had learned to love so dearly.

“I’m glad he has you, dear.” She told you, smiling sadly and turning away shortly to wipe her eyes. “Maybe he won’t show it at first, but I believe he needs you more than ever now. Go on.”

You barely could stop yourself from running up the stairs like a mad woman.

You always had known your Jace was emotional, as protective as he was loving of his family, but you had no idea what to expect now. Earlier this week, he barely had been human, void and still in shock over the loss of his little brother, but would it had changed now after they had bid Lucerys a final goodbye?

You tried to steady yourself, taking a deep breath as you knocked twice on his door.

No answer.

He needs you more than ever now.

You slipped into his room.

Jacaerys was very tidy, usually, the only mess he allowed in his room the disheveled sheets after you had tumbled into them after a night out or a long morning in bed together. But although the curtains were closed now, barely letting any grey light from outside into his little realm, you could see how he had neglected his rule in the past days. Old clothes littered the floor, a old sheets had been messily thrown over his wall of pictures over the bed, the little faces of him and Luke, you and the rest of his family hidden so they couldn’t hurt.

The sight that broke your heart though was the lump on his bed.

Jace was curled up into a ball, his back facing the room. Only his dark curls were visible underneath the blankets. His childhood plushie, a green dragon named Vermax, was peeking out from this mess and your chest tightened with emotion when you spotted Lucerys’ version, a grey dragon named Arrax, close by. Jace must’ve taken him from Luke’s room to find comfort in him…

Jace gave no sign that he had heard someone enter, laying still as if he was sleeping.

But you knew better.

You walked over to his bed, the frame creaking a tiny bit as you sat down on the edge.

Instinctively, you reached out a hand and placed it where you assumed was his bony shoulder.

No reaction.

„Jace.“ You whispered into the silence, biting your bottom lip to stop it from wobbling. Right now, you needed to be there for him as he had been for you countless of times. “You don’t have to say anything right now. I just- I wanted to let you know that I’m here if you need me. I-I’ll go too, if that’s what you want, but I needed to check on you. I’m so, so sorry…”

For a while, nothing happened except for the tiny tremors going through Jace as you still soothingly stroked your thumb over his shoulder, trying to keep your own sadness locked within yourself for him. You were sure if you started crying with him now, you’d never stop.

But then, the sheets rustled and you held your breath as Jacaerys slowly turned around in his bed, your hand slipping from his shoulder. Your stomach tightened painfully at the sight of his swollen eyes, rimmed by redness and salty tears still running down his cheeks. His neck was blotchy as if he was still holding back sobs after hours and he was trembling all over.

He looked so helpless, so lost and utterly destroyed that you wanted to take him, lock in into your heart and never let him out again.

“Jace…” You inhaled shakily.

He surged forward, burying his face in your neck and pulling you against him as he cried, the sobs shaking him so violently you could feel them rock through your body as well. It was heartbreaking to hear and feel and you slung your arms around him tightly, trying to hold the boy you loved so much together somehow.

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered, tears of your own clouding your vision as you rocked him back and forth, rubbing a soothing hand over his back, brushing through his curls… You had never seen him cry like this. It felt like he was coming apart in your arms, losing it entirely but still clinging to you in the hope you’d save him.

You had no idea how much time passed as you held him in your arms, feeling him gasp for air and shake as sobs shook his entire being. “I’m sorry I didn’t text you, I- I just was- I’m sorry…”

“There is nothing to be sorry about.” You cooed, your hands finding his cheeks and trying to brush away the river he was fighting and losing against. A hiccup escaped him as he tried to make a sound of protest and you raised his hands to your lips and kissed his knuckles.

“What can I do?” You whispered, brushing back a curl from his face. “I want to help you, my love. If there is anything…”

“I feel so heavy.” He whispered, voice raspy as he leaned his forehead against your shoulder. He still wasn’t really looking at you, but that was okay for now. “Like…I feel like today is on my skin and I’ll never be able to wash it off again.” His voice broke towards the last word and he shuddered, drawing you closer by the waist, a new wave of fresh tears dripping onto your collarbone.

You touched his chest, right over his broken aching heart and he held his breath.

Nuzzling into him, you swallowed against the lump in your throat and asked: “Do you trust me?”

Your boy had the saddest eyes in the whole world when he looked up at you. “Of course I do.” He answered in a quiet voice and you gave his hand in your lap a squeeze, slowly shuffling back so you could stand up and lead him.

You walked into the small bathroom attached to his room, a luxury you often had taken advantage of in the past. You had learned that Jace loved showers and loved them even more when you were in there with him, although those showers often ended with him on his knees and your head thrown back against the wall, trying to stifle your moans as he sensually ravished you with his tongue…

Now, he let you do what you wanted, standing completely still as you helped him undress, kicking away your own clothes in the process as you turned on the shower behind you and the room was filled with steam. When only his underwear and yours remained, you reached out a hand and led him under the spray of the shower, making sure it wasn’t too hot although that never bothered him.

You looked at him with love and sadness in your eyes and he looked right back into yours, finally allowing you to see him. His nose was running and you could see he had been biting at his lip, a little crust of red remaining on the bottom.

You tried to brush it away with your thumb and he exhaled sharply at the soft contact.

Cupping his cheek with your hand, you pressed your foreheads together, pleading: “Let me be of help.”

Carefully, you reached around him and grabbed his bodywash and a cloth. Jacaerys watched you silently, as if he could not explain himself why he was standing here, outside of his own body and mind. A fallen angel in your grasp.

Then, you began to clean him, your foam-covered hands on the body he thought dirtied and sullied by the heavy blanket of grief. He inhaled sharply at the contact, almost staggering back from the sudden gentle touch. But you moved with him and when your eyes met, both of their faces framed by your wet hair, you understood he allowed you this, allowed himself this.

Inch by inch, you washed away the imaginary dirt.

There was nothing sexual about it, you knew Jace’s body like you knew your own. He tilted back his head and closed his eyes, simply letting himself feel as your hands made their way into his hair, massaging his scalp with a layer of his shampoo, a smell you loved and made you sad now. He whimpered from the affection you offered him, unable to sort through his feelings and decide on one that needed the outlet the most.

Somewhere in-between he had begun to cry again and you softly spoke to him as you quickly rinsed off your hands, needing to touch him again, to remind him that you were here.

You slung your arms around his waist, leaning his head on your shoulder. “It’s okay.” You whispered, although nothing was okay and it wouldn’t be for a whole while. The water was dripping down your forms, both of your remaining clothes completely soaked by now. You blinked away your own salty tears once again and hoped he’d mistake them for droplets of water from the showerhead.

“Jace…”

He was already looking at you, mouth slightly open, eyes clouded.

The edges of his curls were brushing against your cheek, his lips briefly brushing against your own - and then, so quickly it gave you whiplash, his mouth was on yours, feverish and hot and bruising.

It was like falling over an edge.

A loss of control.

Jace held you impossible close, his slippery hands on your hips as he walked you backwards against the shower wall. You gasped, back aching as it hit the cold tiles, swallowing his own pained groan and for a second you wondered if you had hurt him somehow, but those thoughts quickly vanished as his tongue touched yours, the kiss becoming hurried and desperate.

You tried to keep up with his dizzying pace, holding on to his shoulders and kissing back with all your might when you suddenly realized that this was the words of grief he could not speak out loud yet. The only relief from the horrible last days he had gone through, his only shelter from the brewing storm above him.

But you also knew he was hurting and neither of you would forgive yourselves if you let this hurt go too far now.

“Jace, Jace, wait-“ You gasped against his lips, softly pushing at his shoulders until you could look at each other again, breathing heavily into the damp space between you. There was no look of bliss on his face or pleasure of what just happened between the two of you. “Let’s slow down, okay?”

“I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be sorry-“

“I have no right to just…use you like this.” Jace shook his head, brushing back his wet hair and shaking his head. “You wanted to help and I just make it all worse.” He gasped for air that wouldn’t reach his lungs.

“No, baby.” You murmured, taking his hand and resting it over your heart. “You’re not making anything worse and you’re not using me. Believe me, if I knew kissing you would make your pain go away, I’d do it in a heartbeat. But you’re grieving and you’re in a fragile state now. And that’s okay. But I’m here to take care of you, not make you even more unsteady, okay?”

He nodded, his bottom lip trembling. “I love you. I’m glad you’re here and- I want you to stay. Please.”

You had not planned on leaving.

You gave him a soft smile and together you made your way out of the shower, toweling each other down so you wouldn’t drip on the floor. Jacaerys murmured into your hair that he felt the tiniest bit better now, cleaner than before, and your heart nearly busted with love for this boy as you slipped a comfortable hoodie over his form and claimed one of his sleep shirts for your own.

His room was still clouded with darkness as you made your way into his bed, quietly slipping under the blankets and clinging to each other tightly. Jacaerys drew you close, inhaling your scent and sighing brokenly as your hand traced up and down his spine, the two of you sinking into his sheets like children.

Your legs tangled together, one of your legs slung over his waist and your hand buried in his curls as you listened to his breathing slowly coming down. The wing of his plushie dug into your back, but you didn’t care. You would not move, maybe not ever again if it meant his serenity.

He sighed, pressing a small kiss onto your throat before nuzzling your neck with his nose. He was utterly exhausted, on the brink of simply collapsing into unconsciousness.

Nothing was good.

You weren’t sure if it’d ever be again.

But as you held him in your arms, you knew that whatever was yet to come for him, you’d be there to stand it through, together.

[evandsolo]

All of the girls you loved before | ft. Yunho

jeong yunho x reader

genre : romance, SoL, slight angst words : 1,457. trigger warning : insecurities. request : hi!! if you are comfortable with it, would you write a yunho imagine based on taylor swift's all of the girls you loved before? that would be so nice! 💓 author's note : It actually was so great to write ! I loved that SO MUCH. I really really hoped that you like it ! Please do not hesitate to send more. masterlist

There’s those nights sometimes, when you lay next to him, but you’re just unable to fall asleep. The day has been pretty much the definition of what you’d call the perfect day. He came home, bringing flowers. You had a very fancy diner on the beach. You watched the sunset buried in his arms. Now you’re snuggled against him, under the sheets and you can’t help but think about everything and nothing. The way he murmured “I love you, baby.” before falling asleep in your arms. How you feel truly happy in this life but undeserving at the same time. 

You took a long time to analyze his peaceful face. You’ve never seen him that peaceful before. You knew Yunho long before you were finally together. He was a childhood friend. His parents and yours were neighbors and you two have literally grown up together. You’ve seen every little part of him. You’ve witnessed him falling in love for the first time. How he was brokenhearted when she dumped him, even though he was so nice to her. He was so happy when his high school crush said yes to him. You wiped his tears, when he came back a few months later when she betrayed him. Then his family moved out of town, and you lost sight of him for a few years. 

When he moved back in town, he was a full grown up, more handsome than ever. You thought that you’ve never seen someone that beautiful in your life. But your heart was shattered into pieces. You were dumped not so long ago. The one you had at that time, as probably the worst. You used to fight over the phone for some nonsense you actually can’t even remember now. He was jealous of everything, and made you live hell, for nearly a year. You thought you couldn’t make it through. That your heart would hurt at every single beat it takes. 

He was there, he healed every wound with patience, comprehension, attention and support. He knew how to treat you. He knew you so well, it was easy for him. He remembered every small detail. He listened when you needed it. And that’s probably how you fell in love with him. With this giant heart, that is now beating next to you. The feeling was so overwhelming, tears began to flow in your eyes. To avoid waking your lover up, you gently left the bed, to join the living room. You couldn’t sleep anyway, and overthinking wouldn’t help you. 

You sat in the armchair next to the floor-to-ceiling window. The entire city was depicted in front of you, and you let the tears run down your cheeks. You weren’t sad. You just felt way too lucky for someone who certainly does not deserve that much love. He treated you so well, loved you so much, he learned how to love properly through past experiences. And you’re so thankful for that. Thankful for how life puts your paths the same way so you can learn together what true love means. You truly cannot imagine what your life would look like without him. Just thinking about it makes you sob even harder. 

“Baby?” You hear his sleepy voice, appearing in the room.”What’s wrong, hun ?” He said, approaching you. “Nothing. couldn’t sleep.” You say, fastly drying your tears. “And that’s why my pretty girl is crying ?” You knew you couldn’t lie to him, but you tried. You sigh and cross his sight to see how worried he was. “You should go back to sleep, love. You have a big day tomorrow.” You try to avoid the conversation. Immediately after you have risen, he grabs you between his arms to hold you against him. “ I won’t. Not as long as you are sad.” He says. He puts a kiss on the top of your head, pats your hair. “I’ll wait till you’re ready to tell me about everything that makes you feel bad.” That makes your heart burst, and your tears start to run down again. 

“It’s just that, I love you so much.” You say against his bare chest. “ Wait ? You’re crying because you love me ?” You could hear the surprise in his voice. Hearing that from him, sounded so ridiculous you wanted to bury your face in his skin. “Yeah ?” you admit. “I feel so loved, sometimes I feel like I don’t give you a quarter of what you give me. I would love you even more, make you even hap…” “Hey. No, stop. Hear me out.” he says, lifting your head up to catch your eyes. “You love me more than anyone has ever loved me. And I couldn’t be happier than I am with you, baby. I have everything, now that I have you.” He says with the most endearing voice ever. 

“Are you, for real ?” You can’t help but ask; It was stronger than you, you wanted to be sure that he was perfectly happy with you. “ I am, y/n. I’ll always be for as long as you stay with me.” He strengthens his embrace around you, his warmth starting to ease your mood. “ I’ll always be by your side, Yunho, as long as you want me to be.” You add, putting a slight kiss on his shoulder. 

“You are absolutely perfect. With you, there’s no morning where I feel like waking up next to a stranger. I never feel alone, because I carry your love with me every day. You’re always somewhere in my mind.” You look at him, while he is opening about his feelings. He radiates something you can’t explain. His traits are highlighted by the shining light of the moon. From your point of view, he looked like a Greek statue. From the slight bounce of his cheek, to the straightness of his jaw, he was absolutely perfect. “ Everything seems so easy, so natural with you. It’s like we were meant to be. Like you were made for me. Perfect, smart, beautiful and so easy to love.” His words radiate directly to your soul, erasing every bit of worries you had. 

“I want you to promise me something.” You ask, nesting your head in his neck. “ Whatever you want, Baby.” His words were so fast, but so full of meaning. “I want you to tell me if one day you don’t feel well, if you feel that I’m not giving you enough, if things change between us.” You don’t think it’d ever change, cause your love for him was endless, but you just wanted to be sure. “I promise.” A sigh of relief escapes from your chest to his answer. 

“You know that I love you endlessly, right ?” You say, a hand on his heart. “ I want to know what eternity sounds like with you. I want to grow old by your side, Yunho. And sometimes it scares me.” Late night talks always are the best for confession, but you could never have imagined that this insomnia, that night, would lead you to open your heart so much. “You don’t have to be scared. Everything we’ll be fine. Just fine. We’re together now. You won’t have to fight anymore, no more goodbyes.” he whispers. “ You’re the love of my life, y/n. I know that for sure.” 

You pressed a kiss on his lips as if you wanted to lock those words in a significant act. “I’m thankful.” You mutter. “ For what ?” 

“For every past experience. For every mistake that has led us to each other.” You admit and you felt it, deeply in your heart. Every little step, shaped you both to be the best version of yourselves for the other one. “You’re right. We should be thankful to have found each other again, after all those messes.” He confirmed, lost in his mind. “What are you thinking about ?” You call him, putting a hand on his jaw. “I was thinking of the perfect wife you would make.” And it makes your heart go wild. “ You want to marry me ?” All the surprise could be heard in your voice. “One day, yeah for sure.” He says, a huge smile on his face, before it transforms into a giant yawn. “ We should go back to sleep now.” You say, in a little laugh. 

He nodded and you took his hand to go back to the room. You both took back your places under the sheets and he surrounded you with his arms, once again. A hand pats your hair, and the other one, draws circles in your back. “Sleep well my love. And don”t worry about us anymore. We’re meant to be forever.” Just like that, reassured and full of his love, you fell asleep. 

I really hope you appreciated it, do not hesitate to reblog or to leave a note i’d love to read all about your thoughts. ✿

[luna-rainbow]

On Steve Rogers, loss, and loneliness

Unlike some of the other characters, Steve's hurt isn't as plain to the eye. His demeanour is usually one of stoicism and optimism, and it is easy to forget that his story is steeped in loss and loneliness.

Steve's introduction highlighted how alone he was - an orphan, armed with a list of ailments, and hiding behind a newspaper to avoid small chat with other recruits. When rejected by the recruitment centre, Steve shrugs and heads to watch a movie - alone.

Steve is a loner, we are shown, and then just as abruptly - perhaps just like the way it had happened many years ago - Bucky crashes into Steve's world and hooks an arm around his shoulders and noisily talks about an expo and dispels all of Steve's melancholic air. Steve is a loner, except for Bucky.

But Bucky is now leaving to go to war.

Steve is used to being stoic, because there were no adults around him to spoil him. He is used to being buoyant, because Sarah taught him how to pick himself up and carry on. Steve is used facing the empty house and lonely silence -- except for Bucky, who filled his room with chatter, "We can put the couch cushions on the floor, like when we were kids."

So when we hear the anxious strain in his voice as he is informed by Bucky that he is leaving -- it also becomes plain that Steve is also used to loss, or the threat of loss shadowing him, everyday.

In his short life, he has already lost so much. He has lost his health (my thought is he was probably healthier in his early childhood until he caught scarlet fever, and then his health got a lot worse after that). He has lost his father, and all the security of having a family breadwinner. He has lost his mother - to long hours of work and eventually to the disease she was battling against.

What he dreads would happen, does happen. Life seems to have a way of chasing him down like that. Sarah gets sick, and his fear of coming home to find her gone...one day inevitably comes true.

At his darkest moment, Bucky squeezes his shoulder and promises, "You don't have to do it (alone). I'm with you to the end of the line."

It's just enough for Steve to square his shoulders and push on, as Sarah had always taught him to do. Deep inside - possibly buried so deep that he can barely put it into words, he knows that he pulled through because "Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky."

I'm going to pause here and emphasise how deeply lonely (and young) Steve was, and how, naturally, the only stable presence — ie Bucky — in his life, through periods of terrible grief and uncertainty, is going to be such a deep-rooted emotional foundation for him (regardless of how you ship).

When the draft does come for Bucky, it's not just Bucky who's unhappy, it's Steve who's also aghast. Suddenly, the possibility of losing his last bastion looms over him, and he remembers the fear and anxiety and the devastating grief of losing Sarah. But it is also a war that needs fighting - so he comes up with a solution: sign himself up. He can't keep Bucky from the war, but he wants to fight alongside him. Besides Bucky, what else does he have to lose?

"Men are laying down their lives, I have no right to do any less. That's what you don't understand, Bucky."

He says this angrily, because the words he can't say aloud are, "You are laying down your life, Bucky, and I might never see you again, and I can't go through all that again, not by myself."

When he hears about the 107th being captured, he has to go. He is saving Bucky, sure, but he is also saving himself, because the pillar, the lifebuoy, the harness that has kept him afloat all those years is Bucky, and he's terrified of sinking.

The serum makes him taller and more women pause to smile at him, but he is still incredibly alone. He sits alone during break, he draws alone in his book, he runs off alone and none of the USO girls even notices until it's his turn on stage.

But Bucky notices him immediately, and says, "I thought you were smaller," and, "Did it hurt?"

Steve doesn't really believe in miracles. His whole life feels like one bad luck after another, even if he forces one foot in front of another and keeps marching on. But maybe at that moment, he feels like Bucky is his miracle. Bucky, who always seems to notice when he's alone and pulls him into his social circle. Bucky, who had seen him lose his dad and Sarah and promised him the end of the line. Bucky, who he - and all the commanders - thought was dead, pulls through and gives him another promise - that he would follow the little guy back into war.

When Steve is finally thrust into the frontline, the losses keeps mounting, man after man are falling, condolence letter after letter is being written. And then towards the end of 1944, the tides seem to finally turn. German forces are waning, the Allied forces are advancing, and quietly, secretly, Steve dreams of home.

And that dream dies with Bucky.

"Honour the dignity of his choice," he is told, but he can't shake off the guilt.

He pushes himself forward, step by dragging step. Nazi Germany is falling. He is taking down Hydra with his own hands…and at the end, he buries them all in the ocean with himself.

His is sinking, but he isn’t afraid, because he is going where all the people who mattered are waiting.

And he is denied even that.

He opens his eyes to a world he doesn’t recognise. They tell him they had won the war.

But no one wants to speak with him about what was lost.

A folder of old photos, the museum of unmoving murals, the silent movies of a smile he would never see again.

He thought he had lost all there was to lose, but somehow life always seem to find something else to take.

What we see of off-duty Steve in the modern world is once again a figure of loneliness. He goes to the gym alone, he goes for a ride on the train alone, he sits at the cafe alone, he goes for runs alone, he goes to the museum alone.

Only during those solitary moments he could truly be Steve Rogers, instead of trying to meet everyone's expectations of Captain America. He is just shy of 27 years old, but suddenly, he can no longer lay claim to youth. Only a dream ago he was "just a kid from Brooklyn", and now he's an "old-fashioned" (as per Coulson) "older fellow" (as per Tony).

He's in the history books, he's on the television, he's in the classrooms; everyone knows of Captain America, but Steve Rogers is lost.

He had been willing to lose his life on the Valkyrie, but what he lost was every living connection and his own identity.

"Must have freaked you out, coming home after the whole defrosting thing," the friendly man says to him on their first meeting, but Sam only knows half of it.

The too soft bed and the too quiet room is one thing, the unshakeable nightmares another, but the worst of it is -- this isn't home.

He is marooned in a place that bears eerie resemblance to the world he knew, without being familiar.

Until the moment Bucky's mask comes off.

It's like the anchor dropping. He's now got a connection tethering him to this strange place, someone with "shared experience" that means he is no longer alone, and he is no longer a ghost forgotten by the seventy years of lost time.

"He doesn't know you."

"He will."

He has to believe that Bucky will, because Bucky is proof that Steve Rogers exists.

And once again, Bucky is his miracle. On the brink of killing them both, Bucky reels back from his brainwashing and hauls them both to safety.

Even if Bucky leaves after that, he's left behind something Steve hasn't had for a long time -- hope, and belonging.

"Family, stability. The guy who wanted all that went in the ice seventy-five years ago," he says to Tony as he prepares to meet the ragged team of enhanced people that is to become the Avengers. "I'm home."

Stoic and buoyant as he has always been, Steve sets to work building that home for himself. Gradually, we see Steve open up. He forms new connections and new friendships, he talks about his vulnerabilities with people he trusts, and he reclaims his own identity. He looks for Bucky, and waits until Bucky is ready to build that home for himself.

Until it is once again blown apart by the end of Infinity War - he loses not just Bucky, the anchor to his past, but the new family he has made apart from Natasha.

That's why it makes sense that Steve, not Tony, is the one working so hard to reverse the Snap. His family was 5 years ago, Tony's family is now. The people who rallied behind Steve and not Captain America, the people who followed him after he dropped the shield, the people with whom he no longer needed to be endlessly lonely and tirelessly stoic and who loved him for who Steve Rogers was, they all vanished in the Snap.

So even if there was only a small hope, Steve wants them back.

And that's why his decision to leave everything he had built, the sacrifices he had made to bring them back, in order to go into a life of incredibly loneliness and deception is still the dumbest narrative faux pas in the MCU.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Forget-Me-Not 7

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

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

Characters: Loki

Summary: You return to your childhood home to put the past to rest.

Part of the Backwoods AU

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

“It’s unfair, they should not say those things, I know. I’m sorry,” Loki’s voice undercuts your heaving sobs. He pats the back of your head, petting it as he hugs you against his chest. 

In that moment, you are not alone. You have a friend. You have someone to hold you. Something your mother never did. No, she only ever sent you in to face those grimy hands and that sour breath. 

He leans until he’s laying down, taking you with him. He caresses your temple and the shell of your ear. Your breaths mellow and your tears dry up. You lay in the hangover of your grief. All that you’ve held in for the last two years... 

Then you’re flat on you’re back. You don’t know how it happened. Or why. Or so quickly. 

You fight him. You get free for a moment but not for long. He crashes into you as you reach the rivers end. Then he pins you in the door. He’s on you. He’s writhing and thrusting. Each time you try to inhale, he pushes your face into the water. 

You can’t breath, you can’t think, you can’t feel. No. Don’t do anything but survive. 

You wheeze as the belt tightens around your neck, your head lolling over the leather. The metal of Loki’s zipper bites into you as he bends and reaches beneath you. He stretches his hand across your pelvis and lifts you. He curls his fingers long your folds, using his middle one to roll your clit. 

You shudder as he snickers over your crown. You tense and grasp at the leather around your throat. Your eyes bulges and your skull throbs. A speckle of black creeps into the edge of your vision. 

“You can pretend. You can lie, but I feel how you’ve missed me, darling,” he nuzzles the back of your head as he delvers further back and prods around your entrance. He dips inside, rocking his hand as his hips tilt in anticipation. “You think of me. At night when you are alone. Because who else would have you?” 

You cough as your eyes flutter. You could laugh. He has always been good at telling on himself. 

He shifts and wiggles his hips. He snags his tip between his knuckles and leans into you. He spreads his fingers inside of you and pushes in between them. You whine at how he stretches you. It burns like acid, just like that day at the river. 

Twenty years and Hammer Ford is just the same. He is too. They all are but you changed. You’re not afraid. You’re not weak. You will make it through just like you always. Now that, that’s the only thing that’s the same about you. 

He inches into you. Your body wracks as you gurgle. Your hand slips to the floor. Your head is pulsing, your body too. He slides in to his limit and sighs. He brings his head next to yours and nips at your ear. He hums. 

“Mmm, you feel just as good as I remember,” he purrs. 

He rears back and thrusts back in. Your back arches as your head hangs forward. Your breath whistles in your throat. 

He huffs against you, pumping harder, deeper, flattening you to the floor as he winds the belt tighter around his hand. He drags his fingers back to your clit. You croak as you’re trapped and prone beneath him. 

He puts his knees between yours and spreads your legs wide. He fucks you into the cold floor. Your eyes roll back and blurs into the void. Even as you drift toward unconsciousness, you feel him. He tears you up from within. 

“Is this how they have you, hm? On your mother’s couch? You whore,” Loki taunts as water floods your nose. You hack as he lifts your head again. “Mm, do you beg them to keep going or to finish?” 

He cackles and shoves your head back down. The noise of slapping flesh drowns out the gentle trickle of the river. The twigs jab into your legs and stomach. Your insides burn and your ears ring. 

Your eyes roll open. The pressure of the belt is slack, the tail of it across the floor. Loki’s long fingers are splayed as he holds himself above you. Your cheek rests on the floor as he pants and pumps. He drags in and out of you with long strokes. 

You stare at the wall. Just like you did all those years before. With all those monsters.  

He trembles and groans. You feel him getting close. You hate how you can tell.  

He ruts faster. Your hips smash into the floor as his pace turns frantic. At least it will be over. But what then? You can’t run off into the trees. You can’t go home to the woman who made you into this. 

He grunts and spasms. He slows as he shakily thrusts in and out. That’s different than before. You remember the warm he sprayed onto your thigh. No, he cums deep inside you. He holds himself there and lays his weight onto you. 

His breath is shallow as he goes limp and his head hangs next to yours. He tickles your side and wiggles his pelvis. You groan and wince. 

“Darling, know that you will not be rid of me so easy this time,” he rasps. 

You lay in silence as his words creep into your mind. You toy them, peel them apart, and your eyes go wide. Your heartbeat hitches as your eyes sting. No... 

“You will always have a part of me to call your own,” he brushes up and down your hip. “And I will watch it grow inside of you.” 

You shake and close your eyes, “you’re sick--” 

“Well, I was going to let you go back to that sad life you built but then you had to keep talking,” he snarls and tilts his hips. You whimper. “But darling, you should be thanking me. I am scraping scum such as yourself from the river and making you into something more.” 

“Get off,” you push on the floor as you try to free yourself. “Get--” your voice scrapes in your tormented throat. “Get off!” 

“Oh no, we have to be sure,” he rocks into you slowly and hooks his arm around your neck, pulling your head up. He presses his lips to your cheek and hums. “It never takes on the first try.” 

[issatalk]

Courage

paige bueckers x reader

fluff

prompts:

childhood friends to lovers

taking care of a drunk paige

“with her hand around my waist and all the music and lights, mannn i don’t even know where i am, but one thing i do know is that i will dance on her until i can’t move for the night” i heard the woman say as she came near my table to sip on her drink after her and paige were basically grinding on the dance floor. the place was so crowded and truthfully i don’t know if it was the alcohol or if i was just extremely jealous that paige, the paige i have had feelings for for years is letting another girl dance on her as i am sat watching the scene.

after some time of their dirty dancing and dreading eye fucking, paige came to the team table. she was messily walking over us and oof was that girl wasted, i can’t believe she got this bad “ hey can you give me another dirty shirley temple ” she told ice with a small grin in her face that made it so obvious the state she was is. that was our queue to leave, everyone in the team was tired of dancing and occasionally drinking. i myself only had some tequila lemonade so i wasn’t really tipsy or anything but some of these girls were going to need so lots of coffee and good aspirin in the morning

inês was the most stable of them all, she wasnt much of a drinker and went for light beverages. we had called an uber for some of the girls while other came in their own cars, after sending a couple of girls in each ride, aaliyah decided she would be driving. even tho it was paige’s car, she was in no state to drive it, so it went, inês, paige and i along with aaliyah in the car. me and paige went on the backseat i

as i was taking care of her just to make sure she didn’t puke in the car or do dumb shit. aaliyah turned her playlist up making this quite a party since everybody was screaming the lyrics. as some quieter songs came on paige started laughing silently, making me a bit annoyed since she was extremely talkative and touchy when she was drunk. she was constantly poking your face and laughing, i hate this part because it’s when all her hidden thruths come to light and you just never know if it is good or bad.

one time sophomore year you had taken her home after a big game win, the party was crazy, everyone cheered for her, at that point she was the party. but she’s a bit of a light weight so we constantly had to take care of her after her “fun nights”. you were laying her down in bed making sure she was cozy in her bed with enough heat and comfort from her blanket.

she was silently staring at you, once u got near to tell her good night and light off she started talking a lot. things you thought were nonsense since she was drunk, she had said that you had the most beautiful smile in the whole wide world as well along that you had the fattest ass in campus, you definitely laughed at the last one as it was unexpected but these little drunken words meant a lot to you specially since she had been your best friend since junior year of highschool and these drunken words have happened all these years . and this just went along, you never could get rid of that stupid crush you had on her in highschool which after some years turned into big feelings.

in the car paige was getting more confidence then usual, she started by slightly placing her hand on ur knee and after some time while everyone was still singing along, you feel as her hand was going further up into ur thighs, she was rubbing them at this point. she tried to get a little close to not only ur thigh but also down there. u panicked and quickly moved ur hand on top of hers moving it back up to your knee, you turned to look at her and all you could see in the minimum light of the night, were those beautiful blue eyes that made you squirm and go crazy at the tiniest contact, you saw that upturned nose that was ever so perfect and that smile that made you go crazy. finally realizing you were going to keep on suffering quietly if you never made a move.

morning comes and as extremely anxious as you are, you walked up to paige’s dorm with a coffee in hand to help her hangover after lasts night event. you knocked as kk opened up the door letting you in “girll who that coffee for? you better have 4 others in the car cause we surely need them” she said, making me laugh. i walked towards paige’s room opening the door seeing a quiet paige looking like life needs to be contemplated, she clearly had just woken up not many minutes ago, but damn she still managed d to look cute, even with a hangover.

“goodmorning p” you smiled handing her the coffee as her pearly teeth flashed a smile as she saw you “goodmorning love” that’s a new nickname… “so what’s are the plans for today? geno said practice is up until 5 so we got the whole morning” i said trying to wake her up “i think i might just stay in bed enjoying this beautiful coffee that the best person in the world just brought me” she said hoping everyone could hear her so they wouldn’t bug her “oh, well, can i stay with you for a bit?” “ yeah of course, i’m watching the new mario bros movie, so when i go back home i can make sure drew and i can talk about something he likes” it made me melt, i love how much love she had for her brother.

some hours later she fell asleep ,paige was resting in my chest as i tried to move as less as i could so i didn’t wake her up, but as it hit 2pm, amari came and yelled at her to get up. she groaned and tossed around the bed like a little girl making me laugh, she was just too adorable. yet it was time for me to tell her how i felt and if i didn’t do it now it would never happen.

still in her room i said with courage “hey paige” “yup” “ i need to confess to you that for a while i have had feelings towards you, i feel attracted by you as well as extremely grateful towards you, you have done so much for me and for that exact reason i am scared to tell, because i have no expectation on your reaction and i’m sorry if it makes it awkward between us but-“ as just like a cliché moment, the girl i died for since highschool was kissing me. it was a sweet and short kiss, i could sense a smile from both sides after we separated our foreheads from eachother. “god you don’t know how in love with i am do you? i’ve been dying to do they for years” she said in the breathiest voice, i just needed more. i kissed her again, i pushed her down on the bed as she took my waist ,pulling me closer to her so she could feel all of me. i was starting to go down to her neck but got scared as amari banged on the door again, making me separate from paige and making us get up. since that day and on i take courage in all of my decisions, knowing the consequences are fully mine, yet i’m ready to challenge them all. just for her.

thank you if you took the time to read this!! i hope you enjoyed it!!

this is slightly pazzi coded btw

[her-power]

So Called Chaos (Part Four: Modern single dad! e.m x fem reader)

❤️‍🩹🚨‼️18+ Minors DO NOT interact ‼️🚨❤️‍🩹

Trigger warnings/content warnings: Talk of Grief, Child loss, Death. Panic/Anxiety Disorder. Swearing. Fluff. Super cute friendship scene with Eddie & Robin.

Summary: Full summary on Part One.

Word Count: 4k

Cold, it was so cold. You don’t know what happened; you remember laughing with Sam and then the next thing you see is the crack windshield and hearing the sirens. You don’t even know how they got Lily out, you remember her crying and then silence. 

“Sam…”

“I’m here baby.”

“I don’t wanna die.” 

“You won’t.”

“Everything hurts.” 

You turn your face to look at him, but when you do, his face is almost unrecognizable, his skin is blue, and the piece of metal in his stomach seemed to be three sizes too big. 

You scream.

Screaming yourself awake wasn’t uncommon for you, but it had been a while since you had a nightmare like that. Your hands shook as you sit up in bed, turning on the bedside light. You felt the sweat drip down your neck, and you take in three deep breaths. It was four o’clock in the morning. Only hours ago, you were the happiest you had been in a while, but that was now overshadowed but the crippling anxiety you felt in this moment. Pushing the covers off yourself, you go into the bathroom, opening the bathroom mirror to take your lorazepam to settle your nerves. You dry swallow it, gripping the porcelain sink in front of you as you try to settle your breathing. 

It was only a dream. 

Please, I can’t hear your voice right now.

I’m sorry.

You tried to think of making love to Eddie, you tried to think of the way his lips felt against yours, the way he made you laugh.

Nothing worked. 

You felt like screaming, you just wanted to feel peace. Not for those few hours like you did with Eddie, but you wanted the peace to be constant. Everything was so fucking chaotic inside your head; you were almost convincing yourself that the last 48 hours weren’t real. And that you were still locked up in the psychiatric unit, getting woken up every fifteen minutes, pretending to take your pills and your plan to end your life as soon as you walked out those doors. 

No.

You are here, in your childhood home. You have air in your lungs, your breathing is starting to slow down, your hands are less clenched. You are here, you are healing, and you are safe. 

Why do I have to be here and heal?

Why do I have to do it without you two?

Why couldn’t she have stayed a little bit longer?

“My beautiful baby girl.” You whisper, clenching your stomach, your throat burns, and you sob. You curl your legs up to your chest and lay down on the cool bathroom floor. It hurt, it hurt so bad. Your mind was playing tricks on you, you think you’re better off dead. 

No mama! Stop that!

Your eyes snap open and you gasp, sitting up quickly. “I’m sorry baby, I’m so sorry. I don’t mean it.” 

Mama, you don’t need to be sad anymore. I’m with daddy.

“I know.” Your bottom lip trembles. “I know.” 

Go find kitty.

Lily’s lovey. Her all-time favorite stuffed animal that she took everywhere. You get up from your spot in the bathroom and go down into the basement. You sneeze immediately as you approach the back part of the basement, the smell of your parents’ old belongings bringing you back to a spot in your childhood, an overwhelming aroma of dryer sheets permanently stuck to the drywall. You find a box labeled Lilyand open it up, you find her old books, some of her old shoes. You find her coming home outfit and feel the tears immediately fill your eyes. You lift it up, it was a purple onesie, with tiny little mushrooms on it, it also came with a hat. You place it in your lap, and you almost scream in excitement when you find the cat. You pick it up, smiling at the raggedy looking thing. It was an orange and gray tabby looking cat, missing a plastic eye, its whiskers were bent in odd directions, and it’s left ear was practically chewed off from her teething. You take the small newborn outfit, shut the overhead light off and cuddle the cat as you go back upstairs. You go into your bedroom, jump into bed, and immediately fall back to sleep, hugging the cat close to your chest. 

Eddie was in a solemn mood, Robin could tell. He told her that he burnt the letter, he said he just did it on impulse, but he doesn’t regret it. 

“What are you gonna do when Hunter asks about her?” Robin asks gently and Eddie pauses as he’s cutting up Hunter’s strawberries. Hunter was content in his highchair, watching his favorite toddler show. 

“I’ll tell him the truth.” He says, placing the strawberries on the tray. 

“And what’s the truth?” 

Eddie looks at Robin, she had a way of Jedi mind tricking people to get you to think way too hard about things. “You know what the truth is.” 

“I know your truth.” She says, leaning against the counter. “But you need to tell him her truth.”

“I’m not gonna make her out to be a monster if that’s what you’re thinking.” He says, almost snappy. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.” 

Robin asks Eddie about you, what steps are you planning to take. “You already slept together, so what happens now?” 

“I don’t know.” Eddie grumbles. “I haven’t talked to her in a few days.” 

Robin sighs. “Is that why you’re grumpy?” 

He whips his head towards her. “I’m not grumpy.” 

“Says the grumpy man.” Robin raises her eyebrows and gently pats him on the shoulder. “Just be careful, this is so new for the both of you and…you’re not the same people. I don’t want you two to strictly form a relationship on trauma bonding.” 

“It’s not like that Robin.” Eddie sighs, turning towards the sink and rinsing off a few dishes. 

“You just reconnected a week ago, man. How do you know that?” 

“I just know…I’ve always known. There’s been this tether there between us since that night in the woods.” Eddie groans. “It sounds crazy, I know it does. But, there’s something there.” 

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt. Or her for that matter, but…” Robin takes a fist full of his hair in her hand and turns him to look at her, he mutters an ow and laughs. “You’re my best friend, dude. My brother. I can’t stomach the thought of you getting hurt again.” 

Eddie smiles sweetly at her, gently taking her hand out of his hair and squeezing gently. “I’m gonna be fine.” 

“Famous last words.” Robin smirks and Eddie rolls his eyes. “Just don’t let your guard down. That’s all I’m asking.” 

“Yes, mom.” 

Eddie had put Hunter down for his nap not too long after Robin left. He noticed Hunter was coming down with a little cold, his nose wouldn’t stop running and he was a lot more restless and he could hear his soft snores on the monitor. He had a low grade fever and when Eddie called his pediatrician’s office, the on call nurse said to monitor his temperature and to give Tylenol or Motrin to help with his fever. Eddie hated when Hunter would get sick, it always threw him into an immediate panic because he would convince himself he wasn’t breathing or if he gave him too much medicine. It was moments like this he really missed Olivia, and he hated admitting that to himself. She knew what to do, even if it was so hard for her to exist in that moment, she was always super mom. 

“Vapor baths to help with the congestion.” Her voice reaches his ears and he pauses on the page of the book he was reading. 

“Yup. Got it.” 

“I see you burnt my letter. Surprised it took you this long.” 

He doesn’t answer her, his eyes continue to scan over the same sentence in his book over and over again. His palms were getting sweaty. 

“Eddie, pretty soon I’m just gonna be a memory to you. Can you just look at me?” 

His eyes squeeze shut and he mutters a broken. “No.” 

“I’m not gonna be here much longer.” 

“Lucky me.” He mutters and he feels her presence disappear. He looks over his shoulder from the couch and slams his book shut, not bothering to mark his place. He hears the sound of Hunter coughing through the monitor and his soft whimpers. “Da…Da…Da…” 

“I’m coming, duder.” 

He makes his way up the stairs and into Hunter’s nursery. He was curled under his blanket, sniffling and coughing. Eddie places his lips on Hunter’s forehead and is shocked with how much hotter he felt. Hunter turns on his back and lifts his arms up to Eddie who picks him up gently. Even his back felt hot. Hunter rests his head on Eddie’s shoulder as he fishes the drawer one handed for the forehead thermometer. He places it on his forehead and it beeps twice, Eddie knows that’s not a great sign. The window was lit up red: 102.3. 

“Oh buddy.” He says gently, rocking him back and forth. “Let’s get some medicine into you and get you in for an appointment.” 

Hunter replies by sniffling and burying his face more into Eddie’s chest. Eddie had given Hunter some medicine to lower his fever and had called his pediatrician to get him an appointment. The outcome was the flu, on top of an ear infection. Eddie felt so bad for him, he was so uncomfortable and even with the vapor bath he still clung to Eddie like a lifeline. That night, they laid in the couch together. Hunter laid on Eddie’s chest with his pacifier as Bluey played on the screen. His fever had gone down, and Eddie had set up the pack and play in the living room so he could easily get to him if he needed him in the middle of the night. 

Hunter had fallen fast asleep on Eddie’s chest, Eddie let him lay there for awhile, gently rubbing his back, playing with his hair and just admiring his features. He loved this little boy so much. He would move mountains for him. 

Eddie’s phone buzzes on the kitchen table and he carefully places Hunter in the pack and play with his favorite blanket and stuffed animal and stretches out the muscles in his arm as he walks to the kitchen. 

You: Hey, sorry I’ve been MIA. Been in a weird griefy state but I’m okay now. How are you?

Eddie smiles at your message, his heart doing a back flip, excited to hear from you. Don’t apologize, I’m sorry. Been there, it’s not a fun feeling. I’ve been good, Hunter has the flu and an ear infection so I’ve been dealing with that. He’s okay, his fever went down. 

You: Oh no! Kids being sick is the worse. I hope he feels better soon. Do you need anything? 

Eddie: We’re okay! Got some medicine in him. Let’s get together when he feels better?

You: Absolutely. 

Hunter was almost 100 percent the next day, Eddie, however, felt like he got hit by a truck. He was curled on the couch, a blanket around his shoulders, his hoodie was over his head, and he had cold chills going all over his body. Robin had called him, and stated she was gonna come over when she heard the sound of his voice. Hunter was on the floor of the living room playing with his blocks when Robin walked in. 

“You look like death.” She laughs as Eddie turns to her, just having blown his nose. 

“You don’t want to come near me.” He grumbles. 

“If I get sick, it gives me an excuse to stay here and quarantine with you two.”

“This is awful, Robin.” 

“Go take a nap.” 

“I don’t need a nap; I need to lay down in the middle of traffic.” He chuckles at his own joke, but the chuckle turns into uncontrollable coughing and Robin rolls her eyes. 

“Dude. You have a giant bed upstairs.” 

His eyes flick to hers. “I can’t sleep in there.” 

Robin sighs. “Eddie…” 

“Robin, I really can’t. I’ll sleep here, or on Hunter’s floor.” His lip was almost trembling with how cold he was feeling. 

Robin sits on the floor and takes his hand. “Eddie, you need to start taking steps like this. You know that room looks completely different, you know that if you don’t get rest, you’re not gonna be able to function and we know how you are when you can’t function.” 

“It’s not the room itself…I just…I feel like I see her there. Lying there.” He inhales a shaky breath, his eyes well with tears. He was feeling so sick, and his emotions were all over the place, he felt like he was failing at being a dad because he was sick. “I don’t want to see her.” 

“She’s not there, Eddie.” Robin tells him gently. “Not anymore. That’s your space now. I’m not trying to force you to go in there, but you need your rest. This is already kicking your ass, and I know not being able to do the dad thing to your full potential is killing you.” 

“It’s killing me.” He whispers, tears fall down his cheek and Robin pats his face. 

“As soon as your head hits those pillows, you’re gonna pass out. Please. You’re gonna be okay, I know you are.” 

“You believe in me too much.” He mumbles, taking the tissue out of his pocket and blowing his nose. 

“Look at me.” She tells him and he looks at her, his lip quivering. “You can do this, okay?” 

After a few more minutes of pushing, Eddie made his way at the top of the stairs. He hovers by the bedroom door, tightening the blanket around his shoulders, reaching towards the knob. His hand shakes as he turns it and pushes open the door. He keeps his eyes closed and holds his breath. He flicks the light on, a soft amber light illuminates the room and his eyes open. 

It did look different. 

He gazes at the floor; he doesn’t see her; he still wasn’t sure after all this time if he was seeing her. He looks at the bed, a California king, bigger than the one they had together. The comforter was a dark gray color, the pillows were a navy, there was also a body pillow tucked behind the two pillows. He groans, feeling his fever coming back, places a water bottle on the nightstand and pops two cold and flu medicine capsules in his mouth. He pulls back the covers, lays down and as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was asleep.

Last summer…

He was walking for miles it seemed; the darkness didn’t help, also the warm night was making his skin feel clammy. He couldn’t see straight; he had gone to a bar and had one too many whiskeys. He felt like the biggest piece of shit in the world; he knew Hunter was safe and was being looked after by Robin – but he still felt guilty. He didn’t want to get this drunk. It was a normal day for him, and suddenly he was struck with the overwhelming feeling of grief. There was nothing happening, no anniversary or song that came up – he immediately felt as if her death had just happened. His sneakers scuff against the pavement and the iron gates approaches his vision. He was at the cemetery. 

He used his flashlight on his phone to light his path, the light made everything look foggy, like it was just him and his ghosts. He hadn’t been here in months – but he knew where she was. 

He stops walking, his light illuminating parts of her name on the marble headstone. His hand begins to shake, and he feels a lump form in his throat. “So, we meet again.” He chuckles a little, the silence was deafening. He bites his bottom lip, staring at her name. “I don’t even know why I’m here, you’re not even in there; it’s just your body. Your soul is somewhere else.” He looks up at the sky, the moon was barely visible, it made the stars bright, beautiful. He looks back down at her name. “I loved you; you know.” 

A tear falls down his cheek and he quickly wipes it away, his hands clenching into fists. “I don’t know if it was a romantic love, or I just loved you because it was us, and our son and we were making it work.”

A pain hits his chest. “We were making it work!” He yells, inhaling a sharp breath, not bothering to wipe his tears that started up again. “We were making it work, being a family and you took that away! You took it away!” He sobs, falling to his knees, the phone drops out of his hand, darkening his entire view. “You robbed him of a mother, and you know exactly what that did to me. You knew exactly how desperately I wanted that bond with a mother and how happy I was that my son would have that…you knew, and you did it anyway. Why? WHY, OLIVIA?!” He rips the grass blades with his fingers, his body shaking as he wailed with sobs. “We were your only family…and we loved you…we loved you…”

He doesn’t remember much after but waking up the next morning, lying next to her grave.

He hasn’t been back since. 

Eddie wakes up coughing, his body felt cold, and he realizes he hasn’t felt this sick in a while. Robin had come up the stairs with some soup, and another round of flu medicine. He kept falling asleep, his dreams all over the place. He dreamt of his mother, not seeing her face but her silhouette. It was like she was being incased a beautiful ball of warm light. He dreamt of you, and he how desperately he wanted to hold you again, to touch you. 

His chest clenches, and he wakes up gasping. His palms felt sweaty, his heart began to race, and he clenches the bed sheets below him. He felt like he was going to get sick. He hasn’t had a panic attack in months, and he knows that this vulnerable state he was in was causing it to happen, and everything that has happened since he ran into you. His gasping must’ve alerted Robin, because she’s barreling through the door, staring as Eddie is hunched over, holding his stomach. She climbs into the bed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, pulling his head into her chest. “I’m here.” She tells him. “Breathe with me.”

He closes his eyes, and inhales a shaky breath, his hand grips the bottom of her t-shirt. “Where’s…Hunter?”

“Sleeping, it’s almost midnight.” She cups the back of his head, and he glances out the window, seeing darkness and little moonlight. “Slow your breathing down.”

“I’m okay.” He whispers.

“You’re okay.” She says gently, tightening her old on him, entwining their legs together. The pressure from her holding him, the feel of her touch, how safe he felt in that moment, he begins to calm down. He releases his grip on her shirt but keeps his hand there, afraid of fully letting go.

“It’s been a while since you had one of these.” Robin whispers and Eddie nods. “Can I get you anything?” The back of her hand feels his forehead, a motherly gesture that he had grown to love about her. “I think your fever is breaking.”

“I think…I need to stretch my legs.” He says quietly, but he didn’t want to move. He keeps his head on her chest, the sound of her heartbeat was oddly comforting. 

“Take your time.” 

His breathing slows and he carefully sits up away from her. She looks at him with concern and he gives her a silly smile, gently knocking her chin with his knuckles. “I’m okay, Rob.”

“I’ll make you some hot tea, you should probably have another round of medicine.” She tells him, getting off the bed and hovers by the doorway. She looked sleepy, and he couldn’t help the feeling of guilt that overwhelmed him as he looks at her, but he knew she would dismiss it, tell him he was stupid and walk away.

Instead, he says. “Okay, mom.” He chuckles, unzipping his sweatshirt and running his hands over his greasy hair. He had waited for her to go downstairs and carefully gets out of the bed. His body was still sore, but the sleep helped, and he was feeling a lot better. He goes into his hallway closet to get some clean clothes and carefully walks into Hunter’s room. He peeks over the railing and smiles; Hunter was splayed out, his binkie hanging out of his mouth, his favorite blanket was curled at his feet. Eddie gently caresses his head, leaning down to kiss his forehead gently. “I missed you today, little dude.” Hunter stirs a little, and Eddie takes it as a cue to quietly leave the room. 

After showering, he felt more alive and quietly goes down the stairs. Robin was sitting at the kitchen table, a mug in her hand, her long legs were bent under her chin as she swallows back a yawn. Eddie nudges her shoulder. 

“Go home.” He tells her, sitting down across from her. 

She shakes her head. “I will tomorrow, I need to make sure you’re 100%.” Another yawn escapes her.

He sips the tea, the warm liquid soothing his throat. “Robin, you’ve been here almost every day. Vicky must be furious at me.”

Robin smiles. “No, she enjoys her alone time. Plus, she said it gives her time to set up a surprise for me, she knows how nosy I am.” She leans her head back against the chair, closing her eyes.

Eddie smiles at her, and stares at her face. “Thank you…for being here.”

She lifts her head to look at him, her eyes tired, but kind. “Definitely worth the risk of getting sick for getting to hang out with that little boy.”

“No, I mean…for almost two years…since Olivia—” He clears his throat. “You’ve been constant, even when I wasn’t easy to be around.” She looks at his face, hers softening at his kind words. He slides his chair over to her, taking her hand. “You befriended me right off the bat in art class freshman year, and I thought you were so weird, but I realize that you thought I was weird and that’s how we mesh. I had such a crush on you, but I realize now that I think it was because I knew you were totally gay and would never give me a chance.” She laughs and he grins. “I never believed in soulmates, but I think you’re mine. Not in a romantic way obviously, but I don’t think soulmates are based off romance. I think soulmates are two people who just work, can deal with seeing the ugly without running away. You have seen so much of my ugly these last few years, I was certain you’d run away. But I’m glad you stayed. Hunter loves you, and I couldn’t have picked a better person to help me navigate this thing called fatherhood. You’re my person, Robin. And I hope you know how much I appreciate you, and how much I love you.”

“Eddie, COME ON dude.” Robin says, tears springing to her eyes as she gently slaps his face. “You can’t say shit like that to me when I’m on two hours of sleep and I have caffeine coursing through my blood stream.” 

Eddie laughs, pulling her into a tight hug. She hugs him back tightly, and he kisses the top of her head. She lets out a sigh. “You’re my person too.” 

“Always.” 

(Taglist - thank you for all your support my beauties, it means the world) @mysticpeachobject @kellsck @eddiesguitarskills @fearless-wretch-insanity @darknesseddiem @amberolivia666 @amandahobblepot @sxdghxstsbxxkshxlf @sariahs-stuff @trixyvixx @h-ness1944 @munsonzgf @ali-r3n

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 6: Missing Someone

From: Bigger Houses Series

Pairing: Mountain Ranger! Ari x Reader

Summary: It’s time to tell all and talk about each other’s pasts

Word Count: 2,417

Content/Warnings: ANGST, kissing, use of pet names, no-good exs, crying and near-crying, miscommunication but it’s resolved

Author’s Note: I was gonna make it bad, but then I realized, it’s not like this couple to have a huge blowout fight and misunderstanding. They’re too good at talking it out.

Shoutout to my childhood friend I visited last week for helping me write this. He won’t read it, but I appreciate him indulging my thought process. Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo welcome and appreciated!!

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Below is the song which inspired this chapter. It makes me very sad tbh. I skip it a lot when listening.

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You and Ari were going to build a new dresser in your bedroom. It had been nearly six months of being together officially. Your old furniture was breaking down already, so the two of you had gone shopping. Ari insisted he was just going so that he could provide his truck for hauling it, but you knew that wasn’t the case when he turned down the first three you liked.

“No, that one won’t match the wood grains of your cabin.”

“What’s the material on that one? Pressed composite? No good.”

“Sure Duchess, that one could work…if you’re blind.”

You rolled your eyes at that last one,

holding back a laugh. Sure, those were valid reasons, but any minor criticism was something you took personally. He didn’t even live with you! Finally, you’d gotten him to agree to a nice, subtle piece that complemented your bed frame without clashing against the rest of the cabin. The only issue was, you had to build it.

Once the two of you had gotten home from the furniture store, you were exhausted. Not only from the shopping, but from long drive since you had to go to the nearest city with hopes of finding anything good.

After eating dinner, you and Ari settled on the couch together, cuddling to catch up on the show you two were binging at the moment. Sure, you usually preferred to do things away from screens, but sometimes, there was nothing that could replace classic, trashy TV. The dresser could wait. Ari was laying on his back and you were laying directly on top of him, ear over his steady heartbeat until you drifted to sleep.

You began to stir awake and stretch when you realized the TV wasn’t playing anymore. Strong hands stroked your back and your eyelids fluttered open. Your sleepy pupils sparkled and dilated as you moved your chin to Ari’s chest to see him looking down at you the same way, him not even realizing the way he smiled when you were within this eye sight.

“Well good morning handsome.” Your voice was full of sleep.

“Good morning.” Ari leaned forward to kiss your nose as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Looks like it really is morning. 2:47 am.”

You hummed in response. “I think we kinda threw off our sleep schedule with what was supposed to be a nap.”

Ari nodded and laughed. “Oh definitely. But now we’ve got all this time to be productive. You wanna build that dresser?”

You groaned and threw your head into his chest, smushing it your nose and mouth. “Yeah, I guess so.”

You groaned and sighed before your muffled voice came out against his pecs again. “Lemme go pee first.”

You pushed off of Ari’s chest, causing him to exhale most of the air in his lungs with a laugh before he watched you scurry to the bathroom.

Ari got up and walked toward your room to get started on the dresser while he waited for you. Just as he sat on the floor straddling the instructions and some spare parts, he heard a buzzing coming from the nightstand, lighting up your dim bedroom.

“Duchess, your phone is ringing.” He yelled out the bedroom door.

“You can get it. I’ll be out soon. It could be important since they’re calling this time of night.” He heard your faint response.

With a groan, Ari stood up again and took the few large strides towards your nightstand, picking up the phone off the charger. The number wasn’t saved.

“Hello?”

“Hey, is that you? I miss you s’much. You should come over.” A man slurred from the other side of the line.

Ari was confused. He knew the area code of the phone number wasn’t from around here, but who was this man and why was he calling at this hour?

“Who is this?” Ari gritted out the words. He was beginning to feel something. There was anger, there was frustration. He was hurt that this seemed like something that was kept from him. The man on the other side of the line continued to call out your name.

“It’s me. It’s Oscar. Where are you? My bed’s cold.”

That got Ari. It hit him where it hurts and he felt a pang in his chest. He hung up the phone and stalked over to the bathroom where you were washing your hands as his hands shook. You hadn’t looked up yet.

“Hey Bear, was it anything important?” You were met with silence, only Ari’s heavy breathing and the sound of running water filling the air. When he finally spoke up, you could hear a near-growl in his voice.

“Who is Oscar?” Your head darted up and your wide eyes met his through the mirror. You shut off the water, dried your hands, and turned around.

“He’s no one. No one that we should be concerned about, anyway. Why did he call?”

You could see the worry on Ari’s brow and the tears that threatened to fill his reddening eyes. “He said his bed was cold. He misses you. Is there something I don’t know?”

You broke your gaze with Ari, looking at your shifting feet on the cool floor while you fiddled with your fingertips. You took a deep breath and a step towards Ari, surprised by him taking a step back. He’d been hurt before and he didn’t need it coming from you, too. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his distance.

“Oscar is my ex. I should’ve known it would be him calling at this hour.” Ari’s look of hurt took on even more emotion; it was his turn to be confused.

“So he calls you often at this time of night? When I’m not around? And you don’t tell me? Do you always pick it up?”

You shook your head, reaching out to Ari, glad that this time he let your set your hands on his waist.

“No.” You whispered back, your watery gaze meeting his. “I know you and I have been a little private with our pasts, but I think it’s time we tell each other everything.”

Ari nodded as you followed him to the couch. A place where you two had just had your bodies pressed together found you sitting on opposite ends, your legs criss-crossed in front of you and Ari’s long legs out to the side. You weren’t touching at all as you pulled a pillow up against your chest for comfort and took a deep breath, preparing to start.

You told Ari everything. All about the relationship. The expectations, the lies, the late night phone calls, the broken promises, the new girl after the breakup. He nodded along, keeping a mostly level face, although he maintained a mild layer of disgust. How could someone so awful keep you for so long? You were too good for Oscar. Heck, Ari thought to himself, you were too good for him, too. But he would spend the rest of his life becoming better for you if he had to.

As Ari was taking it all in, you continued on. “Mostly during the relationship, but even for a few months after, he would still call me late at night. It’s been over a year since the last time. I honestly thought he would’ve forgotten all about me by now. I don’t have his contact saved anymore. Something must’ve happened, though. But it’s not my problem. He was always whiskey drunk and saying he missed me, just like this time, but I knew that wasn’t the case.”

You looked up at Ari. He seemed like he was beginning to understand. “When we were dating, I fell for it. I fell for all the sweet, yearning things he would say, and I’d come over. We’d dance down the hallway and fall into his bed. We’d lay there and talk, well, it was almost always him doing the talking and lying until the sun came up. I really lost my voice over that whole thing.”

Ari felt such deep sadness for you. His favorite thing was when you would talk passionately about something random or speak your mind against the popular opinion. To hear that someone took that away, someone didn’t appreciate you and your amazing qualities, made him want to scream. His jaw clenched and he kept his silence, grateful for the full insight on your life. If Ari ever met Oscar, well, who knows what would happen to that punk?

Your voice began to break as you sniffled. “I know he wasn’t trying to hurt me, or break my heart, but I felt used. Like I was a late night lonely drug. I know he thought he loved me, and he would say that I was all he wanted, but I think he just wanted someone. At one point, I wished that I was that one he wanted, but I think a part of me always knew I wasn’t.”

Ari had crept closer again over the duration of your story. He pulled you in tight to his chest and rubbed your back as you wept, tears staining his old t-shirt. He had no idea how someone so awful could bring down someone so amazing, so angelic. You were everything. The sun rose and and set on you for Ari.

He pulled away and set his eyes deeply on yours, his hands holding your fingers. “I’m so sorry, Angel. I’m sorry you had to go through that. You deserve the world. Anyone who can’t see that was never worthy to even be in your presence.” He kissed your forehead and your eyes gently closed at the gesture as a soft smile graced your face again at his true, genuine sweetness.

“You are the world. You’re my world, and I’m going to spend as long as I have to so you can see how much you mean to me. Every day, I’m going to do everything I can to give you the love you deserve. To show you just how much I really, truly, honestly love you.”

You sat there, mouth agape in shock. There it was. That was the first time either of you had dared to say the L-word to each other. It wasn’t haphazardly thrown out there as a last-ditch effort to stay. It wasn’t overused and thin. It was heavy, it was intentional, and it was true. It carried such a weight to it, but your were sure Ari wouldn’t have dropped it had he not meant the word with his whole soul.

You felt it too, though. That was the part that astounded you. There was no other person who you believed could ever hold a place so fitting for the word love. There was only Ari.

“I love you, too.” You spoke firmly, gazing into his bright blue eyes, lit up extra from his beaming smile. His hand moved up to your cheek and he leaned in for a kiss. His soft lips met yours as your tongues danced together. There was no greed, no rush. Just love.

When you pulled away, you rested your foreheads against each other. You sighed and giggled. “While I’m out here being honest. I feel like there’s something else I should tell you.”

Ari’s head tilted to the side, confused on what other bombshell you could be hiding. The truth was, you had never been completely forthright with your thoughts.

“Did I do something to make you feel like you couldn’t be honest with me before?” You could hear the wavering in his tone. After such a vulnerable moment, what else could be coming?

“No, no, that’s not at all what’s going on. It’s just…ugh….” You were beginning to grow frustrated with yourself. There was so much you kept locked inside as a result of how Oscar hurt you. You were elated it was coming out for Ari to see. He deserved to know every side of you, but words were hard to formulate in the right way.

“I’m sorry. I want to communicate more openly with you. But it’s scary. I thought when you found out about everything with Oscar, you’d judge me for it. You’d look at me differently.” He shook his head, about to speak up before you cut him off.

“I want to be able to explain it all fully. I should’ve told you all this sooner. I knew once I gave you everything, it would lock me in. It would have solidified everything in a way we can’t come back from. You knowing all the details of my life. I didn’t want it to blow up, because I knew if it did, I would never recover. If I’m being honest, I was so scared to give it all over to you because I’ll never get it back.”

Ari’s blew out a puff of air, processing your words. He simply nodded, allowing you to finish. He completely understood where you were coming from. To trust someone so deeply again after pain like that was the scariest thing he could think of, and he was going through it, too. He was just glad you did trust him. Because he’d give you everything you deserved and more in a heartbeat. The two of you weren’t locked in to anything bad at all, you were just securing yourselves in something you already knew.

After all the heaviness, you made an attempt to lighten the mood. “And, I think you should know, I’m completely capable of assembling a dresser by myself. There are just some times I ask you for help because I want to spend time with you. Not because I need it.”

You winked and Ari heartily laughed in response. “Is that also why you asked me if I needed help cooking dinner last week?”

It was your turn to laugh, throwing you head back before pulling it forward and shaking it back and forth. “No. Sometimes I offer help because I can’t stand to watch as you do something wrong.”

Ari playfully rolled his eyes and pulled you in close for one of his signature bear hugs. He spoke into your hair. “Well, I’m just happy you keep me around. And I’m always happy to do whatever, right by your side, like a true partner. I love you.”

You both inhaled each other’s scents deeply. “I love you, too.”

When you pulled away, Ari opened up and told you everything about his past, too.

Next >

Bonus A/N: reverence is rare and lies are plentiful

Series Taglist:

@patzammit

@hawkeyes-queen

@identity2212

[stopaskinf]

“If I couldn’t have you as a picture on my side, I’d rather die”

Summary: Something’s been following you. Yoongi doesn’t seem too concerned though.

Genre: Yandere Yoongi, dark fic, lowkey dead dove do not eat?

Word Count: 0.5K

CW: Cursing, Heavyyyyyy Stalking, implications of breaking and enter, reader feeling objectified, lowkey paranoid reader but for good reason

A/N: This week has not been great for me, so idk send me money or reblog this for me to feel better 🙃

Min Yoongi is omnipresent.

You’re being followed.

You’re unsure about many things, except for the fact something is following you.

You hear its footsteps as you walk down the sidewalk. The footsteps are light, unnoticeable to anyone else except you.

The constant shuffling that occurs as the sole of their shoes scrape the concrete. The squeaks that occasionally interrupt to feast on the surrounding sounds around. It’s deafening.

Its figure looms over you everywhere.

Hallways. Elevators. Work. With friends. With family. With strangers who take too much of an interest in you.

You can’t put a name, face, or smell to it. There’s nothing you can define it by or associate with other than you. All you know about it is that it’s everywhere.

They’re your shadow.

You sit on carpeted floor in Yoongi’s living room, shaking. He’s not there, but he hears everything you’ve said. He listening. He’s always listening.

Yoongi is in the kitchen prepping kimchi to go with the savory dinner he promptly made once he knew you were coming. He knows you haven’t eaten. Once you get off work, you’re too tired to cook, so you miss dinner altogether. Additionally, he knows you hate frozen food and store-bought kimchi. It never tastes as good as when something is handmade.

“Stop scratching that scab. It’ll get infected.”

The man has eyes in the back of his head.

He’ll never look you straight in the eyes. Still, he knows

every move you make.

His dark orbs are constantly covered by the flowy bangs that frame his fame. They’re always pointed down or focused on another task as if focusing on you would destroy him.

Although, you feel the power his stare holds.

When you leave his house after a long night, you swear you can sense his eyes peering down at you. They detach themselves from his sockets and follow you to what is supposed to be the privacy of your home.

You have a vivid memory of having sleep paralysis. You woke up to darkness encasing you and faint breaths alerting you. You adjust your eyes and you see it. You fucking see it. That fucking creature. It takes the shape of a man, but you know better. No man’s eyes are that malevolent. The one whose eyes bore into your soul as if it is all-knowing. They wouldn’t need any other part of their body to infiltrate yours. Those disgusting, beady dots that waiver as you make eye contact are more than enough for them. The eyes that dare you to try and run. It’ll find you anyway.

As a child, you used to beg and plead with your parents to let you sleep with the lights on. The night hid things. It made everything, even yourself unrecognizable. To you being in the dark was chaos. It was being abducted and held hostage by the void itself.

When you see those eyes stare at you all those years later, you think about your intrinsic childhood fear.

Child you had a point.

Yoongi lays your finished plate of food down in front of you.

In that second, you get a good look at his eyes.

They’re the same.

[live-laugh-lenney]

he said recently in a side channel video that he had a cat ,,,, opinions on mini arthurtv cat meeting reader for the first time ⁉️

also i want to be a reoccurring anon i feel like i should have like a signature of an emoji

yes, yes to being a reoccurring anon! i've never had one before... do you want the honour of choosing the emoji yourself or shall i pick it?

it's a childhood pet.

a little kitten, from a rescue animal shelter on the island of jersey, that they had gotten because his younger sisters were always asking for a pet to have at home. a little kitten that he was never fussed about but grew to absolutely adore when she would trot into his room and take refuge on the end of his bed. a little kitten that was so loved and well-looked after with toys and treats.

so when arthur brought yn to jersey for the first time, to properly and formerly meet his family for the first time, the cat had been included in those introductions.

she's greeted by his younger sisters as they rush forward to greet her with a hug and a hello, the smell of a delicious roast in the oven that his step-dad was keeping an eye on, and the tightest hug from his mum as they finally met in person as opposed to facetime calls and pictures that were sent in their family group chat. accepting the offer of a cup of tea, a couple of biscuits, and answering his step-dad's question on if she wanted sprouts with her dinner or not.

"beware, there's probably a tiny predator on my bed."

yn stares at him in confusion as she follows him up the stairs, their luggage for the week ahead held tightly in his hands as he led her to where his childhood bedroom used to be. still holding a sense of his teenage years but with a slightly more adult-ish look to it... with a lot of neutral colours going on, plenty of family photos hung on the walls yet his sea-lion teddy bear sitting in between his two pillows at the head of the bed.

"this is the family cat," arthur smiles at the cat curled up on his duvet, snoozing away and blissfully unaware of the chaos that had only just happened upon her arrival, "she's pretty used to people, you know, in a house that has homed a lot of kids."

she giggles softly and crouches down at the end of his bed, resting her elbows on the edge of the bed as she dug her fingers gently into the tabby fur of the cat that was happily purring.

"she's so sweet."

"always seemed to have a soft spot for me," he sets their suitcases on the floor beneath his window and settles himself down on his bed, "i don't know why."

"she's not an idiot," yn grins cheekily at him and his cheeks flush a pink colour, "she knows a handsome man when she sees one."

she joins him on the bed, laying flat next to him and staring at the ceiling above her, taking in everything that was happening around her. how she was in the childhood bedroom of the man she's recently come to have an infatuation with, getting to know him on a much more deeper and personal level, maturing their relationship by going one step further and meeting his family. comforting, swallowed by the love his family had for each other, a homely feel to where she was spending the next week with him.

"i'm glad you decided to come with me," he says softly, turning his head and looking at her, "really glad."

"i'm glad you asked me to come with you," she responds and rolls onto her side, poking his shoulder with her fingertip, "next is my lot. are you ready for that?"

"from all the stories i've heard, i'm quite excited," he laughs and she situates herself comfortably against his body, head resting on his chest and a leg thrown over his, "the hour flight really takes it out of me, you know?"

she nods and yawns, as if on cue, and he snickers softly.

and it's not long before his cat joins them, except she chooses to lay against yn instead of arthur, and he finds it the sweetest thing. how she lays her head on yn's hand, stretched out and tucked ever so comfortably in the curve of her body, eyes closed in content and the purrs filling the room.

"she likes you."

"i take that as a win," yn grins tiredly, "i think i could cope with your family not liking me. i can win them over easy. but your cat? oh god."

"you're just too loveable," he says, "she knows a pretty girl when she sees one." xx

[gatheringbones]

wickie stamps, from I am your Frankenstein, from leatherfolk: radical sex, people, politics and practice, edited by mark thompson, 1991

[“When I, in a scene, tediously lay out my implements, I honor my mother's labors and my brother's sacrifice. After cutting my beloved, I methodically wipe up her spilled blood, bind her wounds, and clean the scalpel. Then I wipe down the room. I, too, drop to my knees between her widespread legs and worship her femininity. Only then do the doors to this sacrificial space slowly close. Then I lift my head and gaze with bleary visions into the eyes of my beloved, which are trusted beacons. I am left with a sadness for my brother, who, unlike my beloved, had to let his blood alone. But I am grateful that I, unlike my momma, am no longer hostage to my brother's masculinity or his homicidal/ suicidal whims. Yet as my watering mouth and cunt attest, I have retrieved this cherished womanly act from the undeclared war zone called my past.

My S/ M scenes are the grappling hooks that dredge up these matriarchal memories. When I place a switchblade at my beloved's neck as she cowers at my knee with dripping cunt, I remember myself at age seven, standing at the top of an endless stairway. At the bottom of the stairs is my oldest sister with her boot on my daddy's chest. She's pinned his bourbon- soaked body to the floor. In her upraised hands, arched high above her head, glistens a machete. Its fierceness is intensified by her rage. Next to her, less sure and looking to her older sister for guidance, stands another sister, who, with candelabra held high over her head, hesitantly mimics her older sibling's stance. Both of my sisters have felled the monster called my daddy.

But powerful women have not always been the center of my life. Although my first taste of lesbianism was in the children's home, the first three decades of my life were exclusively heterosexual. My boyfriends ran the gamut of wealthy, overeducated bastards to intriguing but dangerous ex- cons. During these years, the horrors of addiction ate away at my life. But, as in my childhood, there were hints of my While involved with my old man the heroin addict, I enjoyed the scheming, the hustling, and the tension as we waited to cop drugs. Although I was never an IV drug user, I enjoyed the ritual of preparing his works, tying him off, and, once he'd hit a vein, meditating on the blood that slowly swirled into his syringe. Later, while involved with another man, I loved hanging out with him in pool halls while he hustled customers or strutting down the street on his arm dressed in my suede hot pants, high- heeled, over- the- knee boots, and short leather jackets.

It was not until I was thirty that I took my first woman lover. Being someone who would, in order to survive, merge with whatever scene I had to, I melded into her life of brunches, women's concerts, and softball. Because I had stopped using drugs and booze, this relationship was the most stable I ever had. For the first time in my life, with the exception of my siblings, I met strong, independent women.

But, inadvertently, I had walked away from the roots of my eroticism- roots that were intricately spliced into a complicated past. Despite the freedom that I immediately gleaned from claiming my lesbianism, my sexual lust dissipated, just as it had in my heterosexual relationships. Like twenty years earlier, I feared that I would have to sit before a sexologist who would convince me I was frigid.

But this time, I fought back against those inner voices that said there was something wrong with me. The erotic hunger I had felt when I watched my mother's ritual, wore men's clothes, or witnessed my sister's fighting back became familiar again. I, who could not even say the word sex or even leave the lights on in bed, began marching into women's bookstores and picking up lesbian erotic magazines. I rented porno graphic videos. During sex, I started wearing leather and integrating mild bondage and domination. I threw out my milquetoast wardrobe and wore only jeans, leather jackets. and boots. I chopped off my hair. I got tattoos. I came to look like what I had become: a lesbian sadomasochist.”]

[starsomens]

Hello, can I please request a fluffy dog dad Noah 🐶👀? I quite want to escape from reality (we had to anesthetize my princess today) and I do have a soft spot for people who love animals. I hope it is okay 🙈 thank you really much 🖤 and also i love your blog keep up with the great work you do 🥹🖤

_________________________

Note: I DEEPLY apologize for this being so late. But never forgot about this one! I hope you still enjoy it! and I am very sorry for your loss, I recently last my childhood dog after about 16-18 years and it was such a deep wound to us

I will set this up as you already have the dog and got into a relationship with Noah

Noah kinda knew you had a dog already since a lot of your clothes would have some stray hairs on them the day he met your dog he fell in love with

By he I mean your dog

Literally loves when Noah came over, you? Invisible, really said ‘MOVE MA DADDY HERE’

Whenever knows these over the next morning, he will take your dog on a walk or you both go together.

He for some reason has a very strong draw in with animals and they love him. Your dog is no exception.

His uncanny talent to calm down your dogs zoomies. Man will get on the floor and lay on his side and let your dog run and zoom around him until he comes to stop to just smell his face. Then he lays down and relax on the floor and you have no idea why it doesn’t work with you!

Your dog was stolen by your boyfriend.

It has its pros and cons like he needs to come to bed to cuddle with you a lot but now he’ll only stay in bed if Noah is there or if Noah tells him to stay in bed with you😭

Another positive is that you have someone to help you bathe him when he needs a bath. Meaning you’re not the only one leaving the bathroom or the backyard is soaking wet.

It also means you have an extra hand in catching him when he has something in his mouth that he’s not supposed to have!!

“Come give it to me bud, come on”

“Open up…..please?”

“drop iiiitttttttt”

Although now your dog has a habit that whenever you guys are in a mood and you’re all cuddly and touchy, your dog wants some of the action💁🏻‍♀️ cuddles??? Kisses??? Pets???? You’re getting them from Noah why can’t he have them too?🙄

But

There are those days when you come home and Noah has the day off and they’re just lazing together and you honestly love how much love Noah has for your dog. Treats him like his own pet

Nothing like your 2 favorites getting along :)

[oleanderbailey]

The Dinner Party of Adolescence

An internal monologue from Ives Gannet, the main character of my WIP novel Into The Vortex. Ives, the soon-to-be serial killer nicknamed the Portland Maneater, reminisces on how she chose to let her putrid nature develop back when she was still capable of stopping it.

1323 words // 6.5 minute read

Not a recommended read for those sensitive to mentions of sexual themes, murder and child molestation.

The only times I’ve felt true desire were those moments just before sleep. That’s the time most people tend to drift into yearning, right? They lay in bed and think of sweat-covered, glistening bodies and masturbate their worries away until they fall asleep. I do things a little differently.

My way of experiencing nightly desire seems to be less practical than the normal way, but that’s usually the case. These trains of thought never lead me to happy places – instead, to a tear-stained sleep and a jaw so tense it hurts in the morning. I don’t think of shirtless men with rippled abs or bikini-clad women, yet, I still find something to long for. I long for the desperate yearning of memories. I long to look behind me at everywhere I’ve been, and scramble back towards it, clammy hands reaching for the good that supposedly so heavily riddled my past. I long to be able to trace my winding trail of footsteps through the scenes I’ve seen, the homes I’ve lived in, the people I have loved, all the way back to my first everything – without feeling such an intense sorrow.

Even in the most benign-looking places I could visit in my head – break-times at my first school, the quiet walks in the local park, the kitchen of my childhood home – at any little disturbance, the bugs hiding in the cracks and the crevices will scuttle out of their hidey-holes, and I’ll remember. I’ll remember how disease and dirt has infected every experience I call my own. I’ll remember how other children would giggle amongst themselves and point at me as I paced the playground alone, I’ll remember only feeling safe enough to cry in the solitude of the deep woods, I’ll remember how much blood was on the kitchen floor and how I felt nothing when I saw my own mother’s lifeless body. Her head was pointed towards the door when I walked in, her mouth hanging open inhumanly wide, her trademark rosy cheeks a paper-white, eyes merely scattered with the remnants of fear. The fear I should have felt, too, but I didn’t.

All I felt was fascination. And then, I’ll remember why instead of lusting after memories, I fantasise about taking a gun and blowing them out of my head. They’re too irregular for me to understand. After a certain point, I stopped walking through life, and instead tripped over and was dragged through dirt to where I am now. I’m too tired to get up.

I don’t know why I’m like this. I just want to lose all comprehension of myself and rebuild my consciousness from scratch, because honestly, I think I’ve fucked up from my first thought. And unless I get a chance to start over, I’ll fuck up until my last breath.

If I were to try and rationalise myself – an admittedly bad habit that I sometimes try to get out of - I’d explain my current state as a consequence of my experience with sex and family and life being fucked up so young, so early into my development that I can’t see any point trying to be normal moving forward, because I never will be. Instead of doing what others do and push down any “forbidden” intrigues or desires, why shouldn’t I just embrace them? I never had the normality that they cling onto, so what have I got to lose?

I understand why so many psychologists jump to theories that serial killers and rapists were molested as children too, even when there’s no direct account to suggest it. It’s such a dark and morbid thing that, to the human brain, it’s only logical that things so vile must have sourced from another evil. To some extent, they’re right. Mixing childhood or trauma with sex can really, really fuck you up - if you let it. That’s the key to it that not many of these psychologists can ever get because they’re talking about experiences they will never have; it’s not as simple as “get molested, become a sexual deviant” with entire inevitability, it’s more like having the option of becoming an absolute fucking freak offered to you at the dinner party of adolescence, whilst everyone else was served “a thing for boys with brown hair” or “a thing for girls making fun of them”. Well, “offered”… you’re never able to refuse it completely.

See, the dish I was served, it had teeth, malice, and a thirst to ruin the life of the prepubescent it saw before itself. Before there was any hope in stopping it, it jumped up from the table and sank its teeth into my flesh. If you were to ask for forceps to rip it out, although the fight and the desperation would be gone, you’re still left with the wound, and then still left with the scar. You’re not truly free from it. But, you are free from the danger you could manifest. You know how to easily keep a lid on it.

Others like me immediately asked for the forceps – they were scared by something feeling wrong in their head and they cried to their parents about it, who quickly whisked them off to a child psychologist who knew what they were doing and knew how to ensure this child’s wounds turned into perfect, shiny scars. Something I struggle with when I look into the mirror each morning is that I liked the feeling of the curse gnawing at the muscle in my forearm. I was intrigued by these thoughts and that I was thinking beyond the trivial hand-holding that my classmates were discussing on the playground. But, most of all, I didn’t care that it wasn’t normal – because I never knew if I was normal! Pushed out of my family, pushed out of any conceivable social group in school, I never had a reference. So, I just never asked for the forceps. Because I didn’t know they existed. I looked at the demon making mince of my flesh and I took it as a fascination.

I know that’s not entirely my fault. I was just a kid – a very, very lonely kid – who didn’t know that her brain was driving on the other side of the road until it was too late. Everything just aligned too well – I was born morbid, I lived in morbid, and was in perfect shape to react to something like the murder in the way that I did. On the other hand, I feel like I still would have loved the way things were going even if I knew they shouldn’t be going that way. I didn’t want to stop this when I could, or to seek treatment when it would have made a difference. There’s no way to know, of course, but after all these years I have never been able to shake the feeling that my demented decisions caused all of this, and if I was a kinder person to myself, things wouldn’t be like this. I chose to be this way.

I am an evil reimagining that my holier self sees in the bathroom mirror each morning. I see her, too. I see her disappointment in what she knows is inside herself, and what she is capable of. To her, I embody filth. To me, she embodies everything I could have been. Just to scare her, I stare into her eyes sometimes until she starts crying.

Being so comfortable with what is vile about myself has led me to reject the parts of me that are wholesome and good. I want that cunt through the water-stained glass pane to wake the fuck up and realise she is already what she is so afraid of being; she has just sugar-coated everything to deceive others and hopes that she will eventually deceive herself. But - she won’t. I know she won’t. Because it didn’t work for me, either.

Purity is fucking overrated.

[wherethefireliliesgrow]

At My Weakest

Ahn Yujin x F reader

GENRE: angst, slight fluff

TAGS: broken friendship, unrequited love, best friends

TYPE: Request

Closing the heavy metal gate with a gentle push, Yujin walked along the familiar stony pathway leading to the two-story house. The autumn breeze danced across her cheeks, brushing away the remnants of tears that had left their mark, only to be replaced by fresh ones welling up in her eyes.

Seeking solace in nostalgia, Yujin grabbed the hidden key concealed beneath the cat-shaped umbrella stand, a gift she had given you all those years ago. With a sense of trepidation, she slipped into the place she had once called home. The walls were still adorned with a pale tint, the creaking wooden floorboards, and the warm glow of yellow lights greeted her, as if time had stood still in the house. Yet, one thing had changed irrevocably—the bond you once shared, forged in innocence, had withered away, leaving behind an ever-present, suffocating pain in her chest.

It’s funny how time changes relationships, leaving only memories engraved into the very fabric of the walls, whispering stories of the past. 

Continuing down the hallway, Yujin couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle upon laying her eyes upon the wall adorned with your school pictures. The laughter, however, held a tinge of melancholy.

Pausing in front of the last photograph, she found herself transported back to the days of preschool graduation, where you and Yujin had clasped hands, beaming with toothy smiles under adorable graduation caps. Below the photo, were both of your scribbled handwriting, spelling out the surnames of each other.

You had insisted on only writing down each others’ surnames, claiming that writing your full name was unnecessary. Yujin knew you were actually struggling with spelling out the ‘YU’ in her name, so she nodded in agreement. 

"I always call you Yujin, never with Ahn. So I won't forget your name, but I might mix up your last name," you had explained while inscribing "Ahn" with a pink marker, insisting it suited her name perfectly. "I added a heart because you're my best friend."

With a final glance, Yujin made her way to the living room, only to be confronted with an unrecognizable sight. It seemed that you decided to change things after all. You were never the one to really dwell on the past memories, Yujin was.

The weathered brown couch, where Yujin had spent countless nights cradling you in her arms, soothing your heartache over another failed relationship, had been replaced with a sophisticated black leather sofa. The small boxed TV, which had witnessed your shared love for romance movies, had been replaced by a grand flat-screen display. The room, once spotlessly arranged by your mother's loving touch, now bore witness to scattered toys strewn across the floor. Yunjin knew you had a daughter with your ex-fiance Do-yun (she stalked your social media), and she couldn’t help but feel a pang of hurt as she recognized your daughter's striking resemblance to you when you first met.

Her body automatically led her to the familiar staircase that she spent most of her childhood racing up and down from. While the floorboards retained their familiar appearance, a polished wooden handle now adorned the staircase, along with safety nets that stood as safeguards for your daughter.

Yujin closed her eyes and gently placed her hand upon the newly polished handle, ascending the steps one by one—counting silently. One, two, three, four, five... She halted abruptly on the ninth step, bending down to inspect the bottom right corner, just next to the handle. There, etched onto the wooden floorboard, she found a sentence, so small anyone would miss it if they didn’t know what to look for: Think of me, Ahn Yujin.

You had carved it into that particular step of the stairs the night before Yujin debuted as a member of IZ*ONE. The two of you had sat on those stairs, sipping stolen champagne from your parents' cupboards at three in the morning, engrossed in conversations about the future. Yujin could vividly recall the sight of you, head resting on her lap, radiating a breathtaking beauty. Her heart raced every time your eyes met, and the scent of your vanilla perfume drove her crazy. She had wanted to bend down and kiss you. 

“Do you get nervous before you perform?” You had asked her, curious about the soon-to-be idol. 

“Every single time.” She had admitted.

“How do you overcome it?”

Yujin held the image of your gaze in her mind, your eyes sparkling with interest and a lazy smile gracing your lips. You looked at her as if she held the power to hang the stars in the sky, or so she believed.

“I think of you.” She confessed, her voice was filled with vulnerability. 

“Me? Why?” you asked, genuine surprise etched across your face.

“Because you make me brave." she had answered, her heart pouring out its truth.

Upon Yujin’s confession, you had sat up and grabbed a hair pin, and leaned over the stairs, carefully engraving Think of me, Ahn Yujin on the wooden surface. 

"Promise me that you'll always think of me when you're scared, Yujin," you had requested, a flutter in your voice. "I'll always be there for you."

“I promise.”

Yujin had faithfully kept her promise, clutching the necklace you had given her and thinking about the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled before each performance. But you, on the other hand, had failed to keep your promise. You were no longer there for her, and your once supportive smiles were conspicuously absent from the crowds.

As Yujin reached the top of the stairs, she made her way slowly towards your room. The hallway near the bathroom stirred painful nostalgia within her, serving as a painful reminder of where everything had unraveled—the place where your cherished 14-year friendship had crumbled to dust.

It happened when you were both 20 years old. You had returned home from college for the winter break, while Yujin finally managed to persuade her manager to grant her a two-week break following a busy comeback with IVE. Yujin had hoped to spend quality time with you after a year of not being able to hang out. However, you seemed too preoccupied and busy for her. The thought of you possibly being involved with someone else pained her heart, yet she desperately clung to the remains of your friendship. She would rather have you as a friend than not have you at all, and she missed you dearly.

Just a few days prior, Yujin had planned a movie night with you. But when she arrived at your house and was let in by your mom, she found you dressed in a stunning midnight black backless dress and heels, leaving  your bedroom and walking down the familiar hallway. In Yujin's eyes, you looked celestial, surpassing even the beauty of a tapestry of constellations.

“Hey, where are you going?” Yunjin had asked you, confused.

“I have a date with Do-yun.” you replied, standing in front of the hallway mirror and fixing your makeup.

“I thought we had a movie night planned out.” Yujin had said, with a hint of disappointment for being stood up the third time by you this week. 

You had slapped your forehead in revelation, “I forgot that was today. I’m so sorry. Rain check?”

"I'm going back to Seoul this Friday," Yujin said, her anger beginning to surface. "I've been back for ten days, and we haven't hung out once. You've already canceled on me twice."

"I said I was sorry," you retorted, frustration creeping into your tone.

 "Sorry doesn't fix anything. You begged me to take time off to spend with you, but when I do, you act like I don't exist."

"Begged you? I never begged you," your face reddened with anger. "Why do you keep insisting on spending time with me? Don't you have other friends?"

Those words struck a blow to Yujin's ego; you were known to say hurtful things during arguments.

"I do have other friends, but you're my best friend. I missed you."

You looked at Yujin in the eye, shook your head, and pushed past her. "I can't deal with this right now. Do-yun is waiting outside."

"He's not right for you," Yujin pleaded desperately, feeling as though she was losing you with each passing year.

"Give me one reason why he's not good enough for me, Yujin. You've never liked any of my boyfriends," your annoyance grew as the argument escalated.

Yujin fell silent, her mind racing to find a way to keep you by her side without crossing any boundaries.

"Whatever, Yujin. Goodbye," you said, turning around to make your way downstairs.

"Please don't go," Yujin rushed forward and grabbed your wrists.

"I'm in love with you."

She watched as you froze, your body stiffening at her confession.

"What?" you turned to look at her, eyes wide with shock and confusion.

"I'm in love with you. I always have been," Yujin whispered, aware that this revelation would forever change everything between you.

You closed your eyes slowly, as if the sight of Yujin had become too much to bear.

"Please don't say that."

"I can't hide it any longer," Yujin wanted to shout in frustration. "I see your face everywhere I go, I miss you when you're not around, I can't stop thinking about you."

"Yujin, I'm not gay," you paused, tears welling up in your eyes as you carefully chose your words. "Stay away from me."

Yujin always knew that you didn't reciprocate her feelings, but she never expected you to reject her for who she truly was.

She had left your house that day, breaking off all contact , leaving behind her love for you. Yet here she was, ten years later, back in your house, entering your room for the first time in a decade, simply because you had sent her a text expressing a desire to meet up with her. Pathetic as it may sound, Yujin knew that if you said you wanted her back in your life, she would drop everything in a heartbeat.

Taking a deep breath, Yujin finally reached the door to your room and pushed it open. Despite the changes downstairs, your room remained unchanged. It was as if time had frozen within these four walls, disregarding the changes happening outside. The bed sheets still bore the same shade of blue, the pictures of your prom night together were still on your desk, and even the brown stuffed puppy she had given you for your tenth birthday remained on the bed.

The only indication of the passing years was the little girl sleeping peacefully in the bed, clutching the stuffed puppy tightly in her arms. You were lying next to her, gently stroking her hair, and when you saw Yujin, you met her eyes.

You appeared slightly older, with weariness evident in your eyes, but to Yujin, you were as beautiful as ever. 

"Yujin," you whispered, and she cast her gaze downward. 

“Hey.”

She heard you slowly rise from the bed and approach her. Yujin closed her eyes, silently praying that she could regain her composure after seeing you. It had taken her years to move on, but deep down, she knew she never truly had.

Before she could react, you threw your arms around her and engulfed her in a hug. 

“I’m so sorry.” You sobbed, refusing to let go. 

Yujin simply shrugged, unable to bring herself to say anything. 

"I'm sorry for the things I said to you. I couldn't process my feelings for you back then, and all I could think of was pushing you away from me."

“It’s okay.” Yujin whispered, finally wrapping an arm around you. 

“No, it’s not. I hurt you, Yujin.” You pulled back and looked at her determinedly,

“I am in love with you Yujin, I’m sorry it took losing you for me to understand this.”

Yujin froze, staring at you with her eyes wide in shock. 

“You love me?”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. "I think I always have, but I was so terrified when you confessed your love that I pretended not to feel anything. I wanted to keep our friendship, but instead, it drove you away."

The words caught in the idol's throat. Standing before her was the girl she had loved for almost two decades, and the possibility of you returning her feelings was overwhelming.

"What took you so long?" Yujin pulled you impossibly closer, burying her face in your hair.

"It would have been selfish of me to declare my love for you while you were with someone else, so I waited."

Suddenly, the young girl on the bed stirred, rubbing her eyes and sitting up. Her brown doe eyes mirrored yours; she was a spitting image of you.

"Mommy?" The young girl called out.

“I’m here baby.” You walked over and scooped the girl in your arms. “Do you want to meet my friend?”

Your daughter happily nodded as she looked at Yujin. Just like you were as a kid, your daughter was outgoing and eager to meet new people.

"Hello, your majesty," Yujin bowed, formally introducing herself.

Your daughter giggled. "My name is not majesty."

"I thought you were a princess. You look so pretty," Yujin pretended to be shocked, eliciting more giggles and a blush from the younger girl.

"What's your name, princess?” 

"Kim Yujin." 

Yujin smiled, her surprise evident.

"You named her after me?" she whispered, causing you to blush in embarrassment.

"I missed you a lot during my pregnancy," you confessed, trying to defend yourself. "Cut me some slack. I was at my weakest."

Yujin burst into laughter, finally able to breathe without feeling the ache in her heart that had persisted for ten long years. She could adapt to the changes in your house, and most importantly, she could definitely get used to the way you felt in her arms.

[d8nielaa]

hi i requested the ponyboy imagine about pony and reader being together for two years, and i saw someone mention about it being a series, so that being said, could you do a ponyboy imagine about pony and bunny, but when they realized they liked each other?

thank you 💜

Authors Note: absolutely anon!! these one shots/stories will also be posted on my ao3 if you want to check it out!

All I've ever known

Ponyboy Curtis x fem!ace's younger sister reader!

Reader referred to and known as "Bunny"

Pt.2 to "Bunny?!"

Ever since I was younger, I was known as Ace's younger sister. That's all I was to people. Just another version of her. I love Ace, she protects me and feeds me, she loves me like no one else. But sometimes, I wanted more than that. I wanted a different type of love. I want someone to hold me, to kiss me, to whisper sweet nothings into my ear. Someone to just be with me.

Me and Ponyboy were walking down the street after school, shoulders bumping into each other every now and then. My head was in the clouds, daydreaming of what I always wanted. And specifically, who I wanted. Which just so happened to be the boy next to me, Ponyboy Curtis.

I've liked Ponyboy since the day I met him, his auburn hair that was now short and yellow. His greenish-gray eyes that he told me he hated, which didn't make sense because they were so captivating. The way he talked, especially when he got all excited about a book he just started reading. But, ever since the accident, Ponyboy hadn't been the same. And all I've ever known about him, didn't make sense anymore.

It made me feel ashamed to like him, after everything that's happened. I didn't want him to think that I was just using him because he is in such a vulnerable state. I want to help him, and be with him, and love him, and reassure him that everything would be okay.

Little did I know, Ponyboy was thinking the exact same thing as he walked beside me. It was silent for a few more minutes, before Ponyboy hesitantly grabbed my hand, interlocking his fingers with mine and he spoke.

"Can I show you something?" He asked, his eyes filled with a look of slight desperation and pure pleading. I looked at him, nodding my head yes. I could never say no to him, not when he gave me that look. His hold on my hand became tighter, and he began to lead me towards the train tracks.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once we made it to the train tracks, I looked around, confused as ever. I stopped walking, taking in the sight of the rusted rails stretching into the distance, disappearing into the shadows of the approaching night. Memories of childhood adventures flooded back the thrill of chasing after trains, the echoes of laughter mingling with the distant whistle of an engine.

The air was thick with nostalgia, but also with anticipation. What lay beyond the tracks? What was so important to Ponyboy that he had to take me here? Then, I remembered it all. His parents, and Windrixville- all of it. Ponyboy was grieving, and he needed someone with him.

I stood beside him, my hand still in his as I gave it a light, yet comforting squeeze.

"Pony..you okay?" It was like those three words of mine set him off.

The mask fell.

The wall broke.

And Ponyboy cried. He bursted into tears, and all I could do was hold him.

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We walked to the Curtis house after that. Ponyboy needed to be home, where Darry and Soda could take care of him. So I led him to his house, Ace was probably there waiting for me already.

It didn't take us long to get there, walking up the steps of the porch and opening the screen door to a shockingly empty house. This house was never empty, which was confusing yet also- a little relieving.

Ponyboy stepped in after me, letting his backpack fall to the floor.

"Ace?!" I called out, looking for my older sister.

No response.

"Ace?" I called out once more, only to get the same response as last time.

I turned to look at Ponyboy, who had his head in his hands with his eyes squeezed shut. As if he were trying to keep himself from falling apart. I sighed, placing my backpack on the floor before sitting next to him on the worn out fabric.

I placed my hand on his back, rubbing it gently as I spoke.

"It's okay pony, you're okay." His breath was shaky, so was his body. His knee bounced up and down nervously, and all I could do was just sit there and tell him it was going to be okay.

God, I felt so helpless.

He then leaned on me, wrapping his arms around my body and bringing me closer. I was surprised at first, but hugged him back nevertheless. My arms were tight around him, tryin to keep him as warm and safe as possible.

I had never seen him so vulnerable before.

I wish I saw him like this more often, rather than his 'tuff' exterior.

Ponyboy pulled me closer, so closed that I had to sit on his lap. I was hesitant, wondering if this was what he needed.

"I-i need you..please" I guess he did need it.

"Okay-okay pony" I replied, holding him in my arms. This didn't help my feelings for him.

He needed me.

He wanted me.

He wasn't asking for Sodapop, or Darry, Or Two-Bit. He was asking for me.

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We laid on the couch for what felt like hours. In each others arms. Soon enough, Ponyboy looked at me. Our faces inches apart.

In that moment, I knew it. I finally knew that Ponyboy liked me back. He shared the same feelings as me.

I could feel it, his heart was racing as he looked at me, and for the first time in weeks, he smiled. It wasn't a huge happy smile, but it was still a smile.

I smiled in return, before inching closer, and connecting my lips with his.

Yeah, this felt right.

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Authors Note: Hey guys!! This is one of my favorite pieces of work I've written. Im usually not a big fan or my writings, but this is gold. See what I did there?

[seducemefanficsandheadcanons]

Ending Unplanned

Aron has gotten to know most of the incubi over the last three months of them living with her, except for Sam, until finally the two talk. Before she knows it, their tense and awkward relationship starts to turn into something more complicated. On top of that, her health issues cause more issues for her than ever before, bringing up repressed memories of her childhood.

Title from Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield

Also posted on Ao3

Chapter One- Unwritten

YALL!!!! FINALLY THIS IS FIC BEING WRITTEN AFTER MONTHS OF PLANNING!!!!! This chapter is pretty lame, its just setting the tone of her relationship with each incubus and introducing Melody, an OC owned by @tr1n1ty32069

That being said, I hope you like the fic! The plot set up is W E I R D so I just did the order of events when Sam and Aron get together.

I am unwritten

Can't read my mind, I'm undefined

I'm just beginning

The pen's in my hand, ending unplanned

Staring at the blank page before you

Open up the dirty window

Let the sun illuminate the words that you cannot find

Reaching for something in the distance

So close you can almost taste it

Release your inhibitions

Unwritten- Natasha Bedingfield

“I’m home!” Aron called out as she walked into the mansion, dragging her suitcase behind her. 

It had been about three months since she’d moved into the mansion with Melody, and met the incubi. She inherited it when her beloved grandfather, Harold, tragically passed away. 

When she and Mel arrived at the mansion, they found a group of wounded incubi brothers laying on the marble floor. That caused a chain of events, from being kidnapped by devils to being chased down by a succubus princess. It had been pure utter chaos those first few weeks.

Since it had been about a month or two since they’d found a routine that worked for everyone, she felt comfortable saying yes when her mom asked her to go with her to Florida, where Aron grew up. Melody was also invited, but she had to stay for work.

They’d spend a week there, seeing family and going to the beach, and as fun as it was, Aron was just glad to be home.

Her dark purple hair was a mess from being in the car for so long, her neck sore and her eyes heavy. 

“Hey!” Melody called out as she and the incubi walked into the grand lobby. Based on her outfit and lack of her typical trad-goth makeup, Aron determined she’d just gotten home from work in the last hour or so.

Mel quickly went to Aron and gave her a hug, which she returned. “How was the trip?”

“Exhausting,” Aron sighed. “But it was fun.”

Aron gave Matthew and Damien hugs as they all talked. James was being polite as usual, asking basic questions regarding the vacation. Even though they weren’t close, they’d developed some sort of friendship. She couldn’t help but appreciate him, as he had made Melody unbelievably happy. She deserved the best, and James was giving her that.

She was closest with Damien out of the incubi, then Matthew and Erik. Her and Damien would read together occasionally, as she was helping him learn along with James. They’d sit outside and talk for hours about things he wanted to try in the human world- which she’d make a mental note of to surprise him with later.

Matthew and her made a pretty chaotic duo, to say the least. Aron could think of more than one time that she’d heard James tell Matthew not to slide down the railing of the stairs, only for her to go up there and do it with him. Or the times she’d snuck a taste of brownie batter before he was finished, which led to a full fledged food fight.

Her and Erik were insufferable. It wasn’t like Aron had never been hit on before, but Erik’s teasing remarks were constant. She couldn’t help but flirt back! However, the two couldn’t be any more platonic. It was something she’d briefly worried about, that she was misunderstanding his signs, but thankfully the two both wanted nothing serious with each other. He’d make her try on clothes and put on mini fashion shows, hyping her up with praises the whole time.

Sam was the only one she didn’t really have any sort of relationship with. They were cordial…sometimes.

Aron didn’t know what exactly she’d done to piss off the demon, but she could only assume it was a clash of personalities. She didn’t really have any issues with him, other than the fact he kissed her when they first met, using his powers to drain her of energy. However, she’d accepted the fact he was doing it as a means for healing, not for the hell of it. So she forgave him.

But, they never really talked much after that. They bickered a lot, usually about stupid things like chores. They got along well enough in group settings, but that usually meant just not talking. If they were alone, it was usually tense and awkward. He didn't seem to like her very much, which was fine with her. It was irritating, but she had more important things to worry about.

The only real positive interactions she could remember between the two of them always had something to do with the other incubi- a good example would be them laughing and joking as Matthew was being taunted by Simon Tabby. Or the time James confidently corrected Sam’s grammar, only to be wrong. They had a field day with that.

But those moments were few and far between. The times they argued over grocery orders was much more memorable.

Soon, the group conversation began to slightly overwhelm Aron. “Okay, thank you all for not burning the house down while I was gone, but I’m going to my room now,” she told them, starting to walk away with her suitcase dragging behind her. “You can come with me if you want, Mel.”

Melody walked with Aron towards the stairs, the two pausing when Erik offered to help with the suitcase. She happily let him, too tired to pretend to want to carry it herself.

Once they were in her room, Aron flopped down on her bed with a sigh of relief. She was glad she could simply take a breath and calm down after life being so hectic recently.

Now that she was taking a moment to breathe, she found herself thinking of Harold. She’d been grieving him, the fact he was gone took a while to actually register in her mind. But it had a bit after Diana left them alone.

Now, she felt guilt creeping in. Spending his money felt wrong, living in his home felt wrong. He’d given her so much during her childhood, even when he physically couldn’t be there.

And here he was again, taking care of her, without even being alive. 

She already put a large chunk of the money she inherited away in savings accounts, but the rest was still more than enough for her to take care of herself, Melody, and the incubi. 

It just so happened she’d recently had to quit her job at the hospital in the demon districts because of ongoing health issues she’d been having, like seizures. It’s a little to treat patients when you’re unsure of whether or not you’ll be able to walk that day.

Because she had to quit, she was so worried about whether or not she’d be able to afford anything without completely relying on her mother. As much as she appreciated the help, she didn’t want to need it. 

But now, that would never be a worry. That made her feel worse.

Obviously, it’d be different if her financial issues had been solved because of winning the lottery or something, but this was different. Now, every dime she spent, she’d have to remember that it was only hers because her grandfather was dead.

“I’m bored,” Aron mumbled, rubbing her face with her hands as she shook off the thought.

Melody hummed. “What do you wanna do?”

She shrugged, thinking for a moment before raising her eyebrows in thought. “I mean…we live with incubi. The possibilities are kinda endless.”

“Aron,” Melody chuckled, likely already knowing what she was going to say. “No.”

She huffed. “Well yeah, obviously I’m not going to do anything with them. But I’m just saying there's no need to be bored when you live with literal sex demons!”

“Yeah. You know what? Maybe you should,” she suggested. “If you start having sex with one of them, maybe you’ll stop hooking up with your ex’s.”

“Oh my god,” Aron laughed. “I’m gonna stop that anyways.”

“Mhm. Sure you are,” she replied, tone filled with sarcasm.

She giggled in response and closed her eyes as Melody scrolled on her phone.

The rest of the day went as usual. Matthew and James made dinner, which they all ate as a group before calling it a night. Aron laid down, hoping to be able to sleep all night after a long two days of sitting in the car.

Still her mind raced as she thought of her grandfather and the incubi. Her new life.