#puppy angst

[differenthead]

Volume 284

0:00:00 — "Intro" by Harsh Symmetry (2023)

0:01:33 — "Hard Lesson" by Enjoy (2023)

0:04:26 — "Do the In Between" by Telehealth (2023)

0:08:13 — DJ

0:11:34 — "Right Time" by Current Affairs (2023)

0:15:23 — "Asking for It" by M(h)aol (2023)

0:17:39 — "Sabor Attacks" by Dragnet (2023)

0:19:14 — "Mr Cats" by Public Body (2023)

0:21:21 — "Waiting for Kenny" by La Sécurité (2023)

0:24:40 — DJ

0:29:17 — "TKO" by Puppy Angst (2023)

0:33:22 — "Know Better" by Sir Chloe (2023)

0:36:28 — "In Space" by Connections (2023)

0:41:26 — "Have Nots" by Blues Lawyer (2023)

0:45:02 — DJ

0:52:27 — "Encontrarte" by Montegrande (2023)

0:54:37 — "Basta Ya!" by Sakatumba (2023)

0:57:53 — "Door Plant" by Door Plant (2023)

0:58:51 — "Neonjuhlissa" by Radio Supernova (2023)

1:02:01 — "Observer" by Last Past (2023)

1:04:22 — DJ

1:08:20 — "Desperately Free" by Art Feynman (2023)

1:13:00 — "Sensual Encounter" by Lost Traveler ロスト (2023)

1:15:44 — "Memory" by Friendzone (2023)

1:18:33 — "Rumble" by Skrillex & Fred Again & Flowdan (2023)

1:20:52 — DJ

1:25:29 — "Office Reception" by Exquisite Nights (2023)

1:30:36 — "Garbage" by Eternal Dust (2023)

Stream

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[musicshelfwithmustard]

Music Shelf's Review Roundup - June 2nd

Mustard and Gimpleg review some new music they recommend you check out!

Lunacy – Hauntingly Familiar  Melbourne’s Lunacy has released a single that all humans can relate too. The alternative dark pop duo has released their frustration during the COVID-19 Pandemic. In our interview, lead vocalist, Sallee mentioned how Melbourne had some of the world’s strictest lockdown policies. The result of this comes out within the single. This single explores the mental turmoil…

[sara-the-wizard]

Two Hearts Beat as One

(T.w Blood)

:0

Last

[doesephs]

me and the emetophobics have mad beef, stay safe jean

[hinamie]

Another blog noticed that Megumis scars are on the same position as Heian!Sukuna. And it's true! By that logic he should have scars under his armpits and on his belly (second arms and second mouth). You drawing it would be interesting

shoutout 2 megumi for making up fr all of yuuji's scars i no longer get to draw

[cute-sucker]

arh i want cowbow rafe :(((( he's so mean and demeaning but you take it bc he's so hot

note: i love this so much, and this is 100% rafe x pup, change my mind!!!

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.

he would be the meanest at his house parties.

it might be because he rarely has them...and he would be so demeaning because he knew you could take it as well. your legs thrown over his waist, as he carried you to tannyhill before the two of you get ready for the party.

he's speak so softly to you and you'd completely crumble to his hold, nodding your head at his claims of being a good girl for him - for the evening. he'd be holding you up, as you bounced around hoping that he would speak gently to you. he'd play with you, rough and tough. you would take it though, and promise him all those things.

however.... at the party, you'd get drunk while trying to put on his cowboy boots. he would get so pissed at you whenever you tried to turn into a "cow girl," because he knew it meant you trying to do a cartwheel in those scanty little shorts and flash all of his friends in the process.

instead he'd keep a heavy hand on your waist, as you grinned up to him, slobbering all over his white tee, and trying to tell him that you really really loved him. you'd be scooting all over his lap, trying to get closer so you could pepper kisses on his face. this he would hate the most because he had to act like a 'tough guy,' but the minute that you tried to whisper in his ear, he would groan and try not to kiss you. you'd get more impatient yk, because you loved him so much.

at a certain point of this party you would just hop on his lap, dainty and blinking up to him. lets be honest you'd try to bite his arm, and then promptly fall asleep. all the guys would make fun of him, and lets be honest a grumpy rafe with you sprawled all over his lap was a sight to see.

at this point, he would tell everyone that he was going to come back to drag you to bed, shoving your jaw open to make you swallow the pill, as you moaned about how mean he was. he's annoyed at this point, because all of his friends saw how misbehaved you were, and we all know that rafe thinks it reflects how whipped he is for you. he can hear their whispers saying how dumb he was for letting his girl run wild.

he's tell you to shut up, hand snaking around your shoulders, "shut up before i make you shut up." he'd spit out, and then tuck you into bed at gently as he could trying not to look at the way your eyes welled up with tears, as you pouted at him, trembling at you held out to the sheets of the bed. and after that he'd get back down to the party, listening to the guys joke around.

at one point he would let out a deep breath, knowing you were safe and sound in your bed. but of course, of course you came back down later on at the night. this time you were in your scanty pyjamas, where he was 100% sure you were not wearing panties as he huffed when you came down. you'd almost slipped on your way down, whimpering for rafe.

the minute you saw him, you jumped into his arms, as he clenched his jaw. "what is it?" he tried to say gently but it came out so roughly, you shivered. "what is it?"

"didn't like sleeping alone. i can't take it. there was this guy in our bed," you whimpered out, "he was watching me, i swear rafe. it was so scary and he was petting my head."

that caught his attention, turning around to check who was there. "what the fuck did you say?" he hisses out, before you flinch, and step away from him. "what did he look like?" you close your eyes, and shook your head, confused.

"don't know who he was, i got out of bed and ran. think he was wearing a brown shirt, and the cowboy hat"

at this point rafe is about to burst a vien as he closes his eyes. "alright, how about we end this party 'yea?" he murmured, and pushes your trembling figure into his hands, possessively placing his hand on that small part of your back.

by the end of the night, the two of you are huddled in bed, as you sleepily drool in his tight embrace. he can't help but feel confused at your previous statement, thinking about the creep in your bed. suddenly your small hand reaches out to touch his stubble, and he looks down at you pawing at his chest. you let out a small yelp, giving him a sweet drowsy smile.

"rafe, i wanna tell you a secret," you whisper, before pushing up in the bed to reach his ear. rafe groans before lowering himself, muttering something under his breath. you giggle softly, before giving him a little kiss on his neck.

"there was no one rafe. i lied. just wanted you in bed, and those awful people to go away. 'm sorry" you whisper painstakingly, "don't be mad please."

somehow he isn't mad, and instead he gently tells you to shut your eyes, and go to sleep.

he'll deal with your bratty behavior later.

[kazmura]

‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ SPIDERMAN!jake x fem, 0.9k, est relationship fluff

› puppy boy collection

The soft glow of your bedside lamp casts long shadows on the walls as you sit cross-legged on your bed, completely absorbed in the pages of your book. Outside the world is quiet, just the faint hum of cars in the distance and the occasional chirp of crickets. It’s one of those rare nights where everything feels peaceful, like nothing could disturb the bubble you’ve created for yourself.

Then comes the knock.

You jump, nearly dropping your book as the sound shatters the silence. It isn’t from your door. No, this knock comes from the window. Your heart races as you turn your head, half-expecting to see some creepy figure staring back at you. Instead, you see Jake.

Flipped upside down. Hanging from a web.

You scramble to the window, pushing it open with a face of disbelief and giddy excitement. “Jake? What the hell are you doing?” you whisper-shout, though your grin is impossible to hide.

“Thought I’d drop by,” he says, his voice muffled slightly by the red and blue mask. Even upside down, you can tell he’s smirking.

“Idiot,” you mutter, but your chest is already warm with happiness. You reach up and tug at the edge of his mask, pulling it down just enough to reveal his lips. Before he can say another word, you lean up and kiss him.

He hums against your lips, and you can feel the tension melt away from his body, even as he hangs there like the show-off he is.

“Missed me?” he teases when you pull back.

“Maybe,” you say, trying to sound casual, but the way your cheeks burn probably gives you away.

You step aside, and he swings himself into the room with practiced ease, landing lightly on his feet. But as he straightens up, you notice the way he winces, his hand immediately going to his side.

“What happened?”

“It’s nothing,” he says, waving you off. But when he moves again, you see the dark stain blooming on his suit, just below his ribs.

“Nothing my ass,” you snap, already grabbing the first aid kit you keep under your bed. “Sit down. Now.”

He sighs but doesn’t argue, plopping down on the edge of your bed. You kneel in front of him, carefully peeling back the fabric of his suit to reveal the gash underneath. It isn’t deep, but it’s bleeding enough to make your stomach twist.

“Seriously, Jake,” you say as you clean the wound. “You can’t keep doing this. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“I’m fine,” he says, though his wince betrays him. “Besides, I’ve got you to patch me up, don’t I?”

You shoot him a glare, but he just smiles that stupid, wide smile that makes it impossible to stay mad at him.

“Hold still,” you mutter, focusing on bandaging him up. He stays quiet after that, his eyes fixed on you as you work.

When you finally finish, you sit next to him on the bed and sigh. “There. Try not to get stabbed again for at least a week, okay?”

“No promises,” he says, but his voice is soft, almost tender. He reaches out, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “Thanks, by the way.”

You try to play it cool, but the way he’s looking at you makes your heart race.

Before you can say anything else, he cups your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks as he leans in. His lips capture yours in a kiss that’s anything but casual. It’s slow and deliberate, the kind of kiss that makes your skin tingle and your breath hitch. His lips are warm and slightly chapped, moving against yours in a way that causes butterflies to swarm your stomach.

His hands slide down, fingers grazing your jaw, your neck, and finally settling on your waist. He pulls you closer, his grip firm yet careful, like he’s afraid to let go. Your hands find their way to his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your palms, feeling the faint stickiness of blood on his suit.

The world around you blurs, the only things grounding you are the taste of him, the press of his body against yours, and the way his fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt as if anchoring himself to you. It’s intoxicating, the way he holds you like you’re the only thing keeping him in this moment.

When you finally break apart, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathless. His eyes search yours and you feel the heat of his breath ghosting over your lips. For a moment, you forget about the blood, the danger, the fact that your boyfriend is literally Spider-Man.

“You’re staying here tonight,” you say, more of a statement than a question.

He doesn’t argue, just nods and lets you guide him to lie down. You curl up next to him, resting your head on his chest. His arms wrap around you, holding you close, and you can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

“Love you,” he murmurs, his lips pressing against the top of your head.

“Love you too,” you whisper, closing your eyes.

The night ends in the soft warmth of his embrace, the chaos of the world outside forgotten, if only for a little while.

i love spidey jake thoughts sm also if ur interested im trying to make one of those tumblr communities where u can js post and share ur enha delusions!! js click here or dm mee 💓

© kazmura, all rights reserved‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ @kflixnet

[childrenofcain-if]

Clingy D wasn't something I knew I needed. For research purposes, how would that fare though, author

the texas heat clung to D as they sat on the back porch of their grandfather’s old farm. the air smelled of earth and sunburnt grass, a scent that had grown oddly comforting in the months since they’d moved back.

the farm was quiet now, save for the low hum of cicadas and the occasional bark of a stray dog wandering by the fence. the peacefulness suited D—most days. but tonight, it was unbearable.

their phone sat on the wooden table in front of them, face down like it was a guilty party. they’d told themself they weren’t going to look at it anymore.

just leave it, rook, calm down.

stop being so needy, rook.

get your shit together, rook.

you’re always the recurring car crash, rook, the common denominator.

but their eyes flickered toward the phone anyway.

the truth sat under their ribs like a splinter: it had been three days since you’d texted anything more than a brief, polite response to a link they’d sent, and weeks since you’d called. three days of D’s mind running circles around itself, spiraling into every worst-case scenario it could conjure. and they were losing their grip. their fingers tapped restlessly on the armrest of the chair, their boot scuffing against the railing.

maybe you’re busy, they told themself for the fiftieth time that evening. new york is a big place. MBA programs are hard. you’ve got new friends now, fancy urbane friends who wear suits and drink wine like it’s water. you don’t have time to call your idiot partner who still wants to live in their old farmhouse down south and smells like hay and diesel these days.

that last thought stung, and D flinched like they’d spoken it aloud.

they picked up their phone and stared at the screen, willing your name to appear. a new message. a missed call. anything. they’d tried calling you twice yesterday but hung up before it even rang.

the phone buzzed suddenly in their hand, cutting through the peacefulness like a blade. D jumped, nearly dropping it in their haste to answer.

“hey,” they said, too quickly, the word coming out rough and broken, betraying how much they’d been waiting for this. they winced at their own pathetic eagerness.

“hi,” you replied. your voice was warm but tinged with something D couldn’t quite place. it wasn’t joy.

there was a pause, one of those long, awkward ones that stretched out like a wound neither of you wanted to clean out.

“why haven’t you replied to my texts?” you asked finally. your tone was light, sure, but the edge was unmistakable.

D blinked, thrown off-guard. “why haven’t you called me?”

the words left their mouth before they could stop them, sharper than intended, spilling out like blood from a clean incision. the silence on your end was deafening.

“excuse me?” you said after a moment, your voice now tight.

D pushed on, reckless now, the spiraling in their chest too loud to ignore.

“it’s been weeks,” they said, their voice rising despite themself. “weeks since you actually picked up the phone to call me. i’m supposed to be okay with a couple of dry texts here and there? a couple of ‘how are yous’ like you’re checking in on a goddamn houseplant? what am i even supposed to do with that? do you even want to talk to me anymore?”

“of course i want to talk to you!” you snapped, louder this time, frustration apparent in your tone. “but you’ve been so distant during our texts. i didn’t know if you even wanted to hear from me if you got too busy with the farm renovations.”

“distant?” D barked out a laugh, harsh and humorless. “i’m not the one out there living some shiny new life in new york city with shiny new friends. don’t talk to me about being distant when you’re the one who left!”

“oh wow, so it’s my fault now?”

“isn’t it?”

the words hung between you like a noose, both of you too angry to let go and too hurt to say anything else.

“this isn’t fair,” you said finally, your voice breaking just slightly, and D hated that they heard it, hated that they caused it. “you don’t get to put this all on me. you knew what this was going to be like. you knew it would be hard. you could’ve just come with me until renovations were done for the farm. you’re the one who insisted on supervising everything to stay in that stupid place.”

“don’t fucking call the farm stupid,” D shot back, their voice trembling now, but they couldn’t stop. “besides, i’m here, aren’t i? waiting by the damn phone every night like some... some pathetic—” they couldn’t finish the sentence.

“then maybe stop waiting!” you yelled, having had enough of it. “if this is so hard for you, maybe you should’ve just come here with me!”

the line went dead.

D stared at the phone in their hand, unblinking, as though willing it to come back to life. the silence that followed was heavier than the summer heat, heavier than anything they’d ever known.

they stood up abruptly, the chair screeching against the porch, and paced back and forth like a caged animal.

“unbelievable,” they muttered under their breath, the anger bubbling up again. “they hang up on me? after all this? after—”

the thing about D was that they wouldn’t—couldn’t—express their emotions in words a lot of the time. sure, they could write about it, but writing about it was different than actually saying it. so these emotions were usually spelled out in other ways.

a bloody fist. a slow song. a naked dance.

but this time, the anger burned out as quickly as it came, leaving behind nothing but the ache. the ache they always carried, the one they could never name but always felt. they sank back into the chair, burying their face in their hands.

you’re going to lose them, a small voice whispered in the back of their mind, insidious and cruel. you’re going to push them away forever. they’ve grown tired of you because you’re too much. you’re always too much, rook.

the thought made them sicker than a glass of cheap liquor.

D picked up their phone again, their thumb hovering over your name in the call log. they could call you back. they could apologize. they could beg.

they pictured you in new york, surrounded by skyscrapers and lights, people who had never set foot on a farm in their life and who probably never will. they imagined themself there, awkward and out of place, fumbling with subway cards with their doc martens too scuffed, their drawl too thick and alien.

they never belonged in san francisco. they never belonged in new haven. they’d never belong in new york city.

but they’d go. if you asked, they’d go in a heartbeat. they’d go and make themself fit into your world if that’s what you wanted. they’d camouflage themself all over again like they did in california and connecticut. even if they hated it, they’d still try.

or maybe you could come back. just for a little while. they’d show you the stars again, the ones you couldn’t see in the ever-polluted cities. they’d hold you close and tell you they loved you, over and over, until you believed it.

but for now, they’d wait by the phone like dogs waited for their owners on the front porch—all day, and then the next.

here’s the pt. 2 to this.

[junkiefox]

Theo Raeken, known for his selfishness, does his best to not fall in love with Liam, because he can't destroy him like that, can't put him in the place to choose between him and his pack. Theo believing his not worthy enough to him.

Liam Dunbar, the selfless one, always doing everything for his pack, controlling himself to please everyone, allowing himself to fall for Theo, to love him. Because he can make it work, he can trust Theo, that he changed somehow. He chooses to be selfish one time for Theo. He can deal with the pack later, but he'll fight for him first, to show him his worth saving.

[musicshelfwithmustard]

The Duality of Puppy Angst

Mustard had the pleasure of speaking with Philadelphia's Puppy Angst! Together we discussed animal and human behavior, the Philly music scene, yellow paint, their newest single "TKO", and so much more!

All photos by Brooke Marsh Mustard had the pleasure of speaking with Philadelphia’s Puppy Angst! Together we discussed animal and human behavior, the Philly music scene, yellow paint, their newest single “TKO”, and so much more! You can find more information about “TKO” here. 1. Mustard is grateful to have Puppy Angst join them at Music Shelf. How is everyone doing today?  I’m doing great,…

[sara-the-wizard]

Two Hearts Beat as One

(t.w Blood)

Puppies. Puppies everywhere!

Last =+= Next

[egophiliac]

Are you excited for Malleus to read us all his Fanfiction?

Malleus making a perfect dreamworld for all of us to live in like

[whatmattersisyou]

When Catlamity Xie Lian asks him to do something, Wu Meaowing is always happy to oblige (even if very confused) 🐱

"Like this, Dianxia?"

(Wu Meaowing is puppy coded anyway)

[berryispunk]

Eres Mi Vida

pairing: Frankie Morales x gn! reader

summary: This man is your whole life. And maybe you are his, too. An argument turned into a fight and now you're here.

tags: argument, fighting, all the angst, slight mention of alcohol, mention of past addiction, mention of trauma, curse words, sprinkle of smut, spanish nicknames (mi alma, mi vida, mi amor...), established relationship, Frankie being a cute puppy, soft! Frankie, Frankie being an idiot, did i mention angst ?

notes: one of my besties imagined there's a voicemail of Frankie after an argument, so i just rolled with it.

also readable here

word count: 1,2 k

You lay on your bed, face buried in the pillow. Your eyes are puffy and red from all the crying in the last hour.

How did this happen?

How could you let a man dictate your life like this? 

It would be so easy to walk away. 

Never look back, turn off your feelings like you always do.

But you can’t. 

Not this time.

He’s etched onto your heart, seeped into your soul, made a home so deep inside of you and thrown away the key, it’s impossible to simply move on.

You hate him. No, you really do.

The way he looks at you, eyes so full of warmth and genuine interest when you continuously talk about something you’re passionate about. 

He and his damn baseball cap he always claims is part of his personality. He never takes that thing off, only under the shower and in bed. It’s honestly a little disgusting.

He and his silly love for everything spicy. 

He and his cocky smirk standing in the kitchen, something you yourself hate so much, humming a melody to himself, thinking you don’t hear him but you only pretend you don’t. 

All the love he pours into every meal and it tasting good every fucking time. Even if he claimed to be a poor cook at first which is obviously a lie. His satisfied smile when you lean back into your chair and exclaim you’re full for days. 

Maybe you love him for all of these things instead?

Always showing up, never making you question his love for you even once.

The endless public displays of affection, constantly intertwining hands even when you don’t expect it, the warmth of a big hand on your lower back when he’s guiding you through crowds of people or a squeeze to your thigh under the table when you’re out with his friends, thinking nobody else will notice.

His reassuring smile whenever you feel insecure or anxious. 

He made you fall for him so fast it’s scary. The sheer intensity of your feelings for him are dangerous, because you never felt like this before. He made a huge crack in the wall you mentally built around yourself. You’ve never let someone see this unsheltered version of you and it makes you so weak. 

But it never felt like actually falling, because he was there to catch you every time. His kind, soulful eyes on you and his breath ghosting against your temple. “I’ve got you, mi vida,” when he makes you cum for the second time in a row with his skilled mouth.

And now you’re here. Crying your eyes out, your chest painfully tight with anger and hurt. 

Because even if Frankie is perfect in all the right ways, he’s equally messed up in all the wrong ways too. 

His history of addiction, his short temper, his nightmares. 

All things that scare you to no end. 

When he’s suddenly wide awake in the middle of the night, sweaty and breathing heavily, suddenly covering you to shield you from imaginary bullets, it scares you. 

It always takes some time for him to come back to reality and you holding him for a bit, raking your hand through his bed hair until he falls back asleep snuggled up so close against you there’s not a single inch of space between you. 

His temper always gets the best of him when he’s either drunk or the two of you fight. This ugly side of him rearing its head faster than you can say whiplash or even understand the fact you’re in a fight.

Being the hothead you are it’s not like you can’t bite back, but he finds a way to go lower every time. Targeting your issues, making you feel so small. Catapulting you back into your childhood home where screaming and making you feel worthless was on every day’s agenda. 

It causes you to cry in anger, close yourself up, all defense mechanisms flaring up instantly. 

He keeps apologizing in the best way he knows how, his lethal pleading eyes on you make you melt every time. It’s hard being mad at someone who looks like a damn puppy. 

In your head there’s two Frankies: 

The one that worships the ground you walk on, makes you feel so loved and desired like no one's ever done before. The Frankie that may not be the best with words and rather let his actions speak. 

And then there’s this broken version of him. The hurt, the insecurity, the temper all bundled up in a dangerous mix that makes your blood boil. 

How can this be the same person? 

Your vibrating phone almost makes you jump out of your skin. You don’t need to look at the caller ID, you know it’s him. It’s the fifth time he calls. You let his call go straight to voicemail. 

You can’t talk to him right now or you say things you’ll regret, or worse, forgive him immediately. 

You take your phone, unlock it and see he’s left three messages in your mailbox. 

With a heavy heart you lift the phone to your ear. 

“Mi amor, look… I am an idiot. I am so sorry, you know I don’t mean it like this. Please call me back, bye” 

You sigh and press play on the next message. 

“Hey, it’s me, your moron of a  boyfriend. You know that you’re incredibly smart, talented and drop dead gorgeous right? Damn, I swear when I first saw you, I was so intimidated by you. I mean… Did you ever really look at yourself? Because hell, I do. You’re incredible and I know you deserve way more than what I have to offer, but fuck...I—”

There’s a short pause. 

“I love you so much and I am sorry. Please… Call me back, yeah ?”

The tears prick hotly in the corners of your eyes and you take a shuddering breath. 

How can one man be such an intricate mess?

You press play on the last message while you nervously fidget with one of your rings. 

“Okay, you may not wanna talk to me right now but I still need you to know that I fucking love you. I may be a stupid idiot but I am your stupid idiot .. If you still want me, that is. What can I do so you talk to me again? I’ll do everything. Just say a word… mierda! This is the third message I leave you, I-I guess… lo siento, baby. You don’t even know how much. I know I’m a mess…”

You hear him sighing, probably running a hand through his hair in frustration. He clears his throat before continuing to speak. 

“Where was I? Oh right, I’d be damned if I don’t tell you you’re the most precious thing in my life ever and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Eres mi vida, mi alma. I hope I didn’t fuck this up for good. I could never forgive myself.” 

Suddenly there’s silence, the message has ended and there’s another tear streaming down your face. Snuffling, you decide to call him back this instant, or you’ll end up ugly crying again. You can’t help it, you love him too much.

After three rings that feel like an eternity, he answers his phone and your heart stops for a beat. Your breath shudders three times when you start to speak.

my masterlist

[cute-sucker]

note: im begging for requests for this au!!! i'm sobbing, idk what character it is <3

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jonbee taking care of you during an apocalypse and you're in near tears begging him to kiss you. it happens all the time, the casual way that he's dominant over you. if it's the way that he's so much taller, the way his rough hands feel on yours. he always drops a kiss on your forehead before serving you french toast.

you love the normality of it all. the way he's humming the song on the radio, and you're bobbing your head to it. ivy is growing in the trailer park, and the shorts you have on have dirt smudges all over it when the two of you were running.

yet john b is giving you everything he can to serve you a normal lifestyle. he's trying everything to make you feel better, tucking back your hair, and coaxing you to eat. he's even found an old apron that has, 'kiss the chef,' on it, and suddenly your tearing up, holding up your brittle knife and fork.

hot tears drip down your face, as you sniffle quietly nudging at the food on your plate. almost immediately john b turns around, eyes full of concern.

"hey? hey, what's wrong?" he murmers, dropping down to your level. his hat is on backwards, and you fight the urge to turn it the other way. "don't cry pup," he cooes, grazing your wet cheeks, and you fight the urge of jumping into his arms, or asking to sit on his lap. after all, the two of you are platonic anyways. that's clear to tell.

you choke on your sob, "iono, just feel this pressure on my chest. i really need to be close to someone." even as you say this, your eyes are wide ready to be rejected, but john be is always there for you, as his hands snake up your sides, and sits you down on his lap.

"alright now. let's eat something now. maybe that'll make the ache go away."

you nodd at his soft words. he's right, he's always right. the two of you could barley find normal food now, always preservatives, or food that makes you hurt. you like it when he embraces you like this, his big arms around your waist, as you feel like a kid swinging your legs. and yet here you are crying the one day that there is good food.

suddenly you feel worse. the world is ending, and you'll be dead soon, and john be will never be with you, and you will have never kissed anyone. you'll never be a librarian in a niche town with a husband who would kiss you off your feet. no, you will have never kissed someone! what a tragedy to love someone so deeply yet never touch their soothing lips. maybe john b's lips on yours would fix everything.

you feel so stupid.

finally, john b puts the fork down, warm breath on your neck, and he sets you off his lap to look you in the eye.

"i need you to tell me what's wrong, and so i can fix it." he whispers to you, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. you shake your head, feeling the pounding feeling in your chest, as if you were going to vomit but your stomach was empty.

john b sighs, his voice firm now, "this won't go away. show me where it hurts. do you feel sick?" he murmurs to you, giving you his hand to guide, and you tentivally take it to place it on your heart.

"here," you croak, "it hurts here."

he looks surprised, yet his eyes are warm as he speaks in his soothing tone, his words practically melting in your mouth, "why does it hurt pup?"

"i need you to kiss me," you blurt out, and let go of his hand, "so it can stop."

he tilts his head almost amused, "yea? you need me to kiss you, so your heart can stop hurting."

you hate the way he's teasing you, a soft lint in his tone, his large hands still settling on you as he talks to you. he's so gentle with you it burns your skin, it burns everything inside of you.

"i can't take it. i can't take the fact that i've never kissed someone," and then you pause, your voice a whimper, "i can't take it that i haven't kissed you jonbee-"

and then without a doubt, he looks at you again, his eyes so feverious, so full of emotion, burning with the exact same fire that you feel your body ablaze with.

just like that john b cups your jaw, and kisses you so sweetly you see stars.

[porcelainmortal]

mad love.

This is sort of a WIP Wednesday? Thank you to @tailsbeth-writes for the early tag.

The exes-to-lovers fic that I've been teasing since April is finally live! It's fully written at around 31k words and I'll be posting twice a week for the month of November. Please follow along if you feel so inclined. I'm really proud of finishing this one, especially considering how many times I almost scrapped it entirely.

I know this is a weird day to post something angsty but if you decide to read along, I hope it provides some escape from the horrors™️. And I promise, with my whole heart, a very happy ending. 💕

Chapter 1

Tagging folks who showed interest below the cut, along with my normal WIP Weds folks - thank you all!

@bitbybitwrites @dreamtigress @nocoastposts @cactusdragon517 @onthewaytosomewhere

@sophie1973 @iboatedhere @oldfarmwitch @thesleepyskipper @mylucayathoughts

@caterpills @anincompletelist @georgiee-22 @mamamiush @lekrua

@caressthosecheekbones @myheartalivewrites @legallyobtuse @cricketnationrise @kaisoua

@buckybarnesalways @kj-bee @na-dineee @clottedcreamfudge @emmzzzeliza

@chengdu-zone @rachelica9 @westchester777 @tinka-26 @buddieunite

@hrhacd @elliss-stuff @purgingmyemotions @blueeyedgrlwrites @cha-melodius

@firenati0n @faketrex @getmehighonmagic @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inexplicablymine

@kiwiana-writes @priincebutt @rmd-writes @sparklepocalypse @stellarmeadow

@theprinceandagcd @thighzp @whimsymanaged @wordsofhoneydew PHEW! I think that's everyone. And, of course this is an open tag for anyone who wants to WIP Wednesday with me.