#so I'm really really thinking about trying to force drawing again

[woso-dreamzzz]

Snap

Leah Williamson x Reader

Summary: It's all Leah can hear

The snap is what Leah hears and the snap is what Leah hears only.

She can't hear your scream. She can't hear the yelling from the crowd. She can't hear anything as that snap echoes around her brain.

The North London derby was always this kind of scrappy. Everyone expected it. Everyone looked forward to it.

More yellow cards flew for both teams than probably any other fixture.

Tackles always held a little bit more passion, a little bit more aggression than usual.

But not like this.

Never like this.

No one ever wanted it to be like this.

Leah can do nothing but stare. It feels like minutes, time slowing down around her as she watches. It can't have been more than seconds.

It's not her that makes the tackle. It's some new academy girl that's been called up to replace an injured teammate.

Leah can't quite recall her name but she goes in for the tackle, studs up.

Studs up and not even aiming for the ball.

And not even for your ankle either.

She goes in for your leg and your crumble under the force of it.

Leah doesn't know if the rest of the stadium heard the snap but she certainly did.

She heard the snap.

It was all she could hear.

Chaos erupts from everyone - teams, staff, supporters - but Leah can't hear any of it.

You're on the ground, face split open in a scream that she can't hear, tears dripping down your face as you clutch as your bloodied leg.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. It's going to be okay. Stop moving. Stop moving."

Leah can't remember when she moved. She can't remember shoving past your Spurs teammates and getting on her knees to hold your head still.

"Baby, I know it hurts. I know but you just have to stay still. It could be worse than we think. Alright, stay still for me."

You suck in a breath. "L-Leah," You croak out, voice cracked and quiet," It hurts."

"I know," Leah says, feeling panicked as she glances over to the side lines, watching as the medics run on," I know, baby. I know. It'll all be better soon. Just hang on."

Everything still feels like slow motion to Leah, panic clawing at her consciousness.

You try to move your head again, to look at your leg but Leah's hands are clamped tightly around you.

"You-You don't want to see it," She says," Trust me, baby."

"I...Leah, it hurts. It hurts so bad."

"I know," It's all Leah can say, all she can do to keep you calm," I know, baby. But it'll be over soon. The medics are just coming."

She's right, of course and in any other circumstance, she would brag endlessly about it, about being right.

But not now.

Not with you injured and your leg very clearly broken and bloody.

One of the medics gives you a green whistle that you suck on generously before you're loaded up on the stretcher.

That academy player gets a red card and Leah doesn't even care that they're down to ten on the pitch and the open gap next to her is what leads to Spurs equalising and the derby ending in a draw.

"What was up with you and l/n?" Katie asks in the locker room," I didn't know you two were friends."

Leah changes quickly, not even bothering to shower when it means spending more time away from your bedside.

"We're not friends," She replies, throwing her boots into her bag and unplugging her phone charger.

"Really?" Katie says in disbelief," You guys looked so close when she got injured. You wouldn't leave her side."

"She's not my friend," Leah says bluntly," Because she's my girlfriend who is now in hospital after a stupid, reckless-"

"Leah," Kim cuts in, glancing over to the showers where the academy girl has been inside since her red card nearly half an hour ago ," Go and see her. I'm sure she's waiting for you."

Leah cuts off her oncoming rant, zipping up her bag angrily before storming out.

Her hands clench her steering wheel tightly as she drives, only stopping off once to grab some snacks and some flowers.

"Hey," You say as she walks into your hospital room," Oh, Leah, they're beautiful."

You take the flowers from her as she dips down to give you a kiss.

"I was worried about you," Leah says, glancing down at your leg," How bad?"

"A clean break," You reply," So just a cast and no surgery. The blood made it look worse than it is. I'll be okay."

"Are you sure?" Leah asks," You can tell me. You don't have to try and save my feelings."

"I promise," You say," It's all okay. Nothing too bad."

"Definitely?" Leah checks," You're not trying to stop me stressing?"

"Definitely," You agree with a little laugh," Nothing too bad. Nothing to stress about."

Leah blows out air noisily, finally relaxing in the stupid plastic chair by your bedside.

"Now," You say," Did Spurs equalise?"

Leah groans.

[nightlark100]

Consequences (Pt 7)

Peter wasn't exactly sure what sequence of events had led him here. Here being the Chasity's kitchen, where Karen Chasity had served then milk and cookies. He vaguely remembered them discussing telling Grace's parents about her situation, especially since Grace had gone nearly catatonic following their encounter with the Lords in Black. Even now she was hunched in her seat, twitching at any sudden sound or movement.

Grace had killed someone. That thought was hard to deal with. Yes, she'd been involved with Max's death but that had been an accident. And yes, her eagerness and knowledge when disposing of the body was unsettling but this was something else. Peter wondered how many of his classmates had died because of her. Was it just Jason? She hadn't mentioned anyone else... but then again she hadn't really been talking much.

"It is so nice to meet some of Grace's school friends. She's told us so much about you, Stephanie," Karen said with a bright smile. It faltered a little when she looked at Peter, he wasn't sure if that was because Grace hadn't said anything about him, had said something bad or just because she didn't like the idea of her daughter having a male friend.

Stephanie gave her an uncertain smile, obviously wondering exactly what had been said, but was spared from replying by the sound of the front door.

"I'm home!"

"We're in the kitchen Mark! We have guests!"

Mark Chasity entered, greeting his wife with a kiss on the cheek before pausing to look over the teens at his table.

"And who might you be?"

"This is Stephanie and Peter. They're some of Grace's friends."

"Stephanie Lauter?"

"That's me."

"It is so wonderful to finally meet our little Grace's best friend"

"Umm..."

"And... Peter? Is that right?"

"Yes sir. Peter Spankoffski"

Mark's eyes widened slightly.

"You're Theodore's little brother?"

"You know Ted?" Oh dear. That could be very bad.

"We went to camp together when we were younger. I must say, I hope you're less of a deviant than he is."

"I... erm, I try to be? I'm more focused on my studies than anything... deviant-ish." Mark made a thoughtful noise and Peter gave Steph a 'help me' look across the table. She cleared her throat, drawing the attention back to her. If the Lords in Black wanted her to be their prophet and use her experience watching her father play politics, she might as well start now.

"We actually wanted to talk to you both about something rather important. Isn't that right Grace?"

Grace's head jerked up from where she'd been in deep contemplation of a cookie she was steadily reducing to crumbs between her fingers.

"Yes... Momma, Daddy, can you sit down for a minute?"

The Chasitys took a seat, Karen's expression concerned while Mark's was more closed off.

Under the table Stephanie reached over and took Grace's hand, squeezing it gently.

"A few months ago, when all the murders were happening... umm... things got really strange and scary for me. And I found myself being tested... there were forces that used that fear to test my faith... and I... I failed."

"What happened sweetheart?" Karen asked.

"I sinned. I gave into my unclean thoughts. I let myself be defiled."

"Grace, please tell me you didn't..."

"I had sex. With a man. And... I'm pregnant..."

Karen let out a wail and clapped a hand to her mouth, tears shining in her eyes. Mark got to his feet and rounded on Peter.

"Did you do this?! I should have known, your family are all alike! Filthy deviants! Corrupting the innocent with your lustful ways!"

"I'm not the father!" Peter squeaked out. "No matter what you think of Ted, believe me I know what he's like and I'm sure it's justified, I am not like him. I'm Grace's friend. Only her friend! And I'm a virgin!"

"Then who is it? Do you know? Or have you sunk so low into sin there are multiple options?" He demanded of Grace, who had wrapped her arms around herself and was visibly fighting tears.

"No daddy. There was just one. Just one time. It was Max Jaegerman. I'm sorry, I know it was wrong!"

"I knew book carrying would lead to nothing good..." Karen said softly. "I should have spoken up... I'm a terrible mother..."

"Mom, no..." Grace reached over to touch her mom's arm but Karen pulled away.

"What do we do Mark?"

"Don't worry Mother, I can handle this. Grace will go to stay with her aunt and uncle, where she can repent for her sins."

"Mark, isn't there any other way?" Both Karen and Grace were crying now. Stephanie was gnawing at her bottom lip anxiously, while Peter's hands were balled into fists beneath the table. He felt a strange unfamiliar fury surging through him.

"We can't let people know about this, imagine what our church circle would say. It's what's best, Mother."

"Best for who?" Peter snapped, unable to keep quiet any longer. Mark blinked, taken aback.

"Excuse me?"

"Best for who, Mr Chasity? Cause it certainly doesn't seem like you're thinking about what's best for Grace"

"I beg your pardon! You have no right to speak to me that way! This is a private family matter, I would like you to leave!"

Peter got to his feet. He suddenly seemed taller than usual and Stephanie could have sworn there was a faint green sheen to his eyes.

"Grace asked us to come because she was scared. She hates herself for what happened because you've made her believe that any kind of mistake makes her worthless. She reached out to you because you are her parents and you're supposed to love and support her, no matter what! Instead you berate her and all you can think about is how it reflects on you. I may not be part of your church but I was raised Christian and I know that God is supposed to be about love and forgiveness. Honestly, I think he would be ashamed of you right now Mr Chasity." Mark spluttered in rage, his face turning an unpleasant shade of puce. "But it doesn't matter what you think. If you won't support her, we will."

"I am her father!"

"And she's eighteen and a legal adult. You have no authority to send her anywhere," Steph cut in, moving to stand beside Peter so the two of them were bracketing Grace. "Maybe you should try asking her what she wants to do. What she needs."

"I don't want to leave..." Grace said quietly. "I'm happy in Hatchetfield."

"You live under my roof-" Mark began but was cut off by Steph.

"She can stay with me. Come on Grace, lets go get your things."

Wiping her eyes, Grace got to her feet and followed Stephanie upstairs. Peter moved to stand at the foot of the stairs, wary that Mark might try something. Neither of the parents followed, but he could hear Karen Chasity sobbing in the kitchen.

It only took a few minutes for the two girls to return with a gym bag stuffed with clothes. Peter guided them towards the front door. As he opened it, Mark and Karen emerged from the kitchen.

"Grace stop this foolishness right now!" Mark demanded. Steph wrapped her arm around Grace's shoulder more firmly.

"Grace, please..." Karen begged softly. Grace paused, meeting her mother's eye.

"I'm sorry Momma."

Consequences (pt1)

In which the Lords in Black aren't fully satisfied with Grace's sacrifice (or, the pitfalls of an abstinence only sex education)

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

She hadn't wanted to kill them, Grace thought numbly as she stared down at her dirt streaked hands, unable to shake the image of her latest victims from her mind. Yes, she believed that the behaviour she'd witnessed from the young couple, drunk and making out in the park, was dirty and perverse but she didn't want to kill them. And yet when she had gotten near, it was as though she was seized by a terrible hunger and she just couldn't stop herself.

She slipped to the ground, resting her head against the side of her bed and felt tears burning her eyes. It had been a few months since everything with Max... since she had given in to the primal temptations and sacrificed her chastity to send him to hell. She should feel... something. Relief? But her insides felt like they were rotting. She'd done so many terrible things and she didn't even have her unwavering faith to fall back on anymore, not after what she'd seen in the school gym. She didn't know if the colourful figures had been demons or if they truly were gods but it felt like jagged claws had slashed apart the fabric of her soul, leaving jagged doubts behind. Doubts and hunger.

At first she'd been able to ignore it but it had gotten stronger. It would rise in waves, crescendoing down onto her when they peaked and leaving her scrabbling for purchase as her mind crumbled.

Even the brief moments of peace she usually got between the waves had been lost to her now as she found herself battling daily with nausea, sometimes barely making it from her bed to the bathroom in time. She had tried to hide it as best she could but she knew her parents were concerned, had heard them whispering while she lingered in doorways. If it continued much longer they'd want to take her to the doctor, but she knew medicine couldn't help her. Her soul was sick, that was the cause. She would just have to pray harder. Maybe she could ask Stephie and Petey for help? Surely her friends would agree to pray with her when they saw how bad things had gotten.

Struggling to her feet, feeling her stomach twist painfully as she did so, she retrieved her phone from her bedside and sent Steph a text asking to meet up.

Her friends would help. They had to.

[tcfactory]

.

[kuromi-hoemie]

hhhh talking about my writing was fun but 30 tags is not enough.. yes i have 3 major influences but i have minor ones too.. it is a lovechild of my favorite things.. writing is so fun and i have no self control or a concept of pacing myself i will sit there for 16 hours and get hit with every status effect but by god does it all just flow out of me. I've always been a music person yes but i also used to write a lot into early adulthood until The Incident™

but i am ready 2 jump back into it. i think comics are a great middle ground between the two mediums so i don't get As into writing bc i kind of started going crazy last time 🫡 i can take a more structured approach to it that forces me to pace myself and think about it differently. i love art.... i love making things i love knowing how to do things i love knowing how to play things i love having so many creative outlets, even if i don't do a lot of them regularly lol. it is enriching 😳 and nice to know that it's always there to come back to when u want.

[bi-writes]

ghost doesn't think he hears you correctly, not at first. there's a ringing that's still in his ears from the bullet he nearly ate earlier. (cw: dubcon, 18+)

"wot?"

"can you please please please--pretend to be my boyfriend--just for one minute--!"

"heyyy, sunshine," a nasty little voice sings. you spin around, cowering by the bar, just as someone a little too drunk and a little too big comes into your space. you scoot away from him, but he's coming closer, leaning over you, and ghost tilts his head to the side as he watches the way you flinch at the stink of his breath.

ghost fits into the space at your back quite easily. your back arches a little as his big hand finds the bend of your waist, and you squeak a little when he forces you back, pressing your ass against his pelvis as he tucks you into his shadow.

"who's this fuckin' nitwit?" ghost mutters, clicking his tongue under his mask. you swallow, blinking up at the man, shrugging as you try and press yourself a little closer against his heat.

"i-i dunno," you whisper, and it's shaky, afraid. "h-he won't stop...following me."

"tha' right?" ghost hums, and you're so afraid of the man in front of you that you don't really register the way ghost's big hand is slipping lower, over the curve of your denim jeans and squeezing the fat of your ass that fills the palm of his hand all too nicely. "ya botherin' 'er?"

the man swallows a little, hiccuping. he stands up straighter, a little more sober, and he just shrugs as he takes another swig of his beer.

"just...she's so pretty, ya know--agh!"

ghost reaches over and grips him by the fat of his neck. he squeezes hard, drawing him closer, would be spitting in his face if he wasn't wearing the balaclava over his head.

"'f i see ya around 'er again, i'll paint the fuckin' walls with y'r teeth, mate, yeah? now get outta my fuckin' sight before i do it just for fun."

when ghost lets him go, he struggles to breathe, holding onto the bar and coughing as he scrambles to put distance between you. you shake a little, turning towards the bar, picking up what you assume is his drink and sipping it slowly to try and calm the nerves. you close your eyes gently, shaking your head.

"thank you," you say softly. "i-i couldn't shake him off, he was following me everywhere, i..." you turn your head and meet his eyes, smiling up at him. "that was really nice of you. i'm...sorry if i caused you any trouble."

ghost tilts his head to the side, fitting himself back behind you. he reaches over, putting both arms on either side of you and leaning over one shoulder, breathing hot against your neck.

"wot you mean?" he murmurs, and you blink, not understanding.

"for pretending to..." you laugh a little, looking into his eyes. "just...it was nice of you to do that. to pretend like that, i--"

"dunno wot y'r talkin' about," ghost chuckles, and you seize when he reaches down between you, cupping you between the legs as he palms at your pussy over your jeans. you keen a little, leaning into his touch, nasty brute pressing two fingers against where you're most sensitive and forcing your ass back against him, where he's hard, chubbed up since he first saw you, leaking into his cargos.

"i-i--" your eyes are wide, but you don't pull away, don't push him back--why am i not running? why can't i leave? what's happening to me--

"i wasn't pretending. were you?"

[foone]

I see a lot of people joking about the adhd thing of "I have a appointment/phone call at 3pm, guess I won't do anything all day!"

But no one seems to make the connection that it's a time blindness thing. One of the symptoms of ADHD is not having a good and accurate sense of time. And not doing stuff prior to an event with a hard deadline is an obvious coping mechanism for that.

Can I go to the store? It's 10am and the appointment is at 3pm. How long does going to the store take? An hour? Three hours? Five hours? I DON'T KNOW!

I get anxious trying to do things before appointments because I'm aware that I don't know how long those things take, and that if I think I do, I may be very wrong. Too often I've been like "hey I can walk to the corner store and grab a drink, that'll take like 15 minutes!" and then an hour later I get back and whoops my rice has burnt.

Plus there's also the fact that ADHD people know that motivation and focus is a two-edged sword.

Like, let's say you decide to play a video game. You've got time, you can pause/save whenever, so this should be a perfect fit to make good use of your waiting-time. So you start playing and WHOOPS you get really focused for some reason today (because people with ADHD do not get to pick when their brain decides to focus) and the next time you look at the clock it's 2:49 and you haven't showered or dressed and the appointment is 30 minutes away. Fuck. (you could have set an alarm, but now you're asking people with the forgetting-things-and-time-ignoring condition to remember it set alarms)

And with motivation, it can be almost worse. Instead of playing a game, you so something useful or creative. You clean your room or fix your plumbing or write a story or draw a picture. And suddenly it's great. Your brain is firing on all cylinders. You've got all the motivation you can ask for, and you are FLYING. the ideas are brilliant, your hands are nimble, you're getting stuff done you've been putting off for weeks or months. And then the alarm goes off. Time to go to your appointment. Fuck.

You drive there, your brain still full of ideas and plans. But by the time you get back, the motivation is gone. You may still have the ideas but you don't have the drive to write them down. You can't force yourself to do it. Your sink is still in pieces. Your room is half-cleaned, and you have to shove all the sorted clothes into one big bin just so you have somewhere to sleep. You've left things half finished again, in a cycle that has been repeating your whole fucking life. It seems sometimes that nothing ever gets finished.

So next time you don't even start. There's not time. You've been burnt too many times. Why add another half-completed project to your pile of shame?

My point is that people seem to be going "lol I can't do anything all day if I have an appointment at 3pm" like this is a quirky "oh I'm so scatterbrained!" weirdness they alone have, and not a major complication of a disabling mental illness.

(and that's not even getting into the secondary effects. If you know that having an appointment ruins your whole damn day, you're going to avoid them. Even when it's things like "going to that party" or "meeting your friends for a drink/game" or "going to a movie with that cute girl from your math class". Things you should enjoy. Things that'd help you be social. Things that make you feel human.)

[uravitypng]

big beefy number one pro hero deku is absolutely smitten with you, his chubby little girlfriend, and yeah you're a little bit of an airhead sometimes but that makes you all the more endearing to him.

prior to meeting you he used to feel embarrassed whenever he'd ramble too long about heroes or quirks. after some time people would drown him out after he started his disjointed babbling, not wanting to listen to him ramble. with you it's different, the first time it happened he went to apologise to you. jirou once told him he should try and apologise if he realised he did it to strangers afterwards- especially now that he's a pro hero.

so he goes to stammer out an apology after realising he spoke to you uninterrupted about all might's golden age for five minutes and you tilt your head and giggle at him. izuku draws in a breath. "why are you apologising deku? i really liked hearing you speak. what about his other ages?"

izuku felt like he was malfunctioning, "what?"

you bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling again. who knew pro hero deku is so cute? "like the silver age and the bronze age? are those all the ages or is there like a platinum age too?" izuku grins, you're so interested in what he has to say he can't help it. "wait was is all might's quirk again? he's like strong right? that's his quirk."

izuku pauses for a second before barking out a laugh. you pout and glare at him feigned annoyance. 'she's so adorable and ditzy. i need to speak to her again.'

you constantly praise him, not just for hero work either, and ever single time it makes his entire face red. it doesn't matter that you've been dating for four years now and izuku's brought an engagement ring, he still gets flustered with all the compliments.

people compliment him all the time, it comes with the job, but when you do it it means so much more. " 'zuku you're so brave!" "i don't understand this at all izuku, can you explain it too me? you're the smartest person i know." "you're so pretty." "your hair is so soft." "you're the best hero ever!"

a light sheen of sweat covers your forehead after being manhandled by your boyfriend into the cowgirl position, he loves holding onto your love handles and moving you up and down on his cock, with each bounce your body jiggles. you'll lay in bed with your face buried in his chest as you trace the scars on his arms with your fingertips lightly, "you're so strong izuku." you turn to face him and your chubby cheeks lift as you smile. "i'm so proud of you." his heart skips a beat. he's never loved anyone more than he loves you.

izuku gets possessive of you, he doesn't like people touching you. you're his. before you he never thought he would be jealous or possessive but then you came into his life and he nearly broke the glass of champagne he was holding when he saw todoroki talk to you. he knows todoroki doesn't like you like that, he's liked yaoyorozu since ua but he was too close to you and izuku hated it. his legs moved before he could think, walking up to you both with a forced smile on his face. he wraps his arm around your soft waist, tightly, and kisses your forehead. you smile sweetly at him and lean into his body. izuku brought you home earlier than you thought he would that night, holding onto your thick thigh with one hand while his other hand is on the steering wheel, driving you both home.

his jealous nature was cemented a week after when he saw kaminari talking to you. not just talking to you- flirting with you. if izuku was holding a glass like he was last time he most certainly would of smashed it in anger. you don't even realise what kaminari is doing and izuku knows you don't.

you listen to him talk intently and nod your head, you smile at him and laugh at his jokes. to some people they would think this would be you flirting back but you're not, you're just trying to be nice. kaminari has decided to talk to you and you want to be kind and listen to what he has to say and izuku has really admired that quality about you but right now he wishes you could pick up on the clear signs that kaminari is giving you.

izuku snaps when he sees kaminari look at your cleavage and glance at your body, his eyes lingering on your plush thighs. his voice is strained as he pulls you away from kaminari making some half-arsed, offhanded excuse as he takes you home immediately.

when he saves a small child and he gives them his award winning grin all he can think about afterwards is you. 'who are our kids going to look like? will they have my freckles? or maybe her hair? if they're half as cute as her they'll be the cutest kids ever.' he's already planning their bedrooms and his eyes drift to the baby clothes section at stores.

your boyfriend has the biggest breeding kink known to man and you get reminded of that as he folds your body into a mating press and groans deeply in your ear, "can't wait to see your soft body get softer puppy, promise i'll look after, you won't have to lift a finger." you loudly whine, grabbing hold of his large arms, every thrust causes a loud slapping sound with how wet you are. "you're gonna look so pretty puppy. i'm going to pump you full, make sure you don't spill any for me, just like the good girl you are."

izuku adores you and you feel exactly the same about him.

[flwrstqr]

` ✶ S𝓲TUATiONSHiP WITH ENHYPEN

ʬʬ. enhypen x reader 𖥔 ݁ ARCHiVE 7OO wordcount fluff . . . skinship, kisses, situatonship ꒰˵ˊᯅˋ˵꒱ hai, hope u enjoy this one flueries :33

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

it’s always the same with him—heeseung showing up unannounced, a lazy grin on his lips as he leans against your doorframe. "miss me, baby?" he teases, slipping inside without waiting for an answer. his cologne wraps around you like a second skin as he flops onto your couch, patting the space beside him. you hesitate, as always, but sit anyway. his arm loops around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “why do you keep doing this, heeseung?” you mumble, eyes fixed on the tv that neither of you are watching. he tilts his head, brushing his thumb along your jaw. “doing what, angel?” he whispers, voice smooth. and just like that, you’re caught again, his lips brushing your temple like it means something. but does it? with heeseung, you’re never sure.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐀𝐘

“you’re really gonna stay out there all night?” jay’s voice cuts through the still air, his figure leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips. you shrug from your seat on the porch steps, pulling his hoodie tighter around you. “maybe. the stars are nicer than you.” his chuckle is low, teasing, as he steps closer, crouching down beside you. “is that so, princess?” his fingers find the hem of your sleeve, grazing yours casually—too casually. you hate the way your heart flips. “you’re impossible,” you murmur, though you don’t pull away. “but you still call me, don’t you?” he counters, voice soft now, eyes searching yours. you sigh, resting your head on his shoulder despite yourself. “shut up, jay.” his laughter rumbles in his chest, his lips brushing your temple. "you like it when i'm impossible."

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄

it’s always him that makes your heart race, even when you swore you wouldn’t let it. “you’re staring, doll,” jake teases, his voice low, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips as he leans closer. your breath hitches, and he notices—of course, he notices. “and if i am?” you shoot back, tilting your chin up defiantly. “then i’d say you’re making this too easy for me,” he murmurs. it’s always like this—close, but not close enough. his hand drifts to your waist as if testing boundaries, and your pulse quickens. “you’re infuriating,” you mutter, trying not to smile. “but you like me like this,” he counters, his gaze locking onto yours. and you hate how much he’s right.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

your breath catches when sunghoon leans closer, the thrum of the party fading into the background. “you good, baby?” he murmurs, voice low. you nod, heart racing, but the way his hand lingers on your waist makes it impossible to think straight. his touch is casual—like always—but the way his thumb draws slow circles against your skin feels anything but. “you’ve been quiet,” he adds, eyes scanning your face like he’s searching for something. you force a small laugh, shrugging. “just... thinking.” his brow arches, playful smirk tugging at his lips. “about me?” he teases, but there’s a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. you roll your eyes, pushing his shoulder lightly. “don’t flatter yourself.” but when his hand tightens ever so slightly on your waist, pulling you just a bit closer, you know he already has.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎

“you’re gonna catch a cold, sunshine,” sunoo murmurs, draping his hoodie over your shoulders before pulling you closer under the shared blanket. his arm lingers around your waist. “don’t call me that,” you mutter, and his signature teasing grin appears. “why not? you’re my sunshine, aren’t you?” the way he says it, so casually, makes your chest ache with confusion. you glance up, searching his expression, but he avoids your gaze, focusing on the movie playing. moments like this blur the lines between what you are and what you aren’t, and it’s maddening. his hand slips down to intertwine with yours, squeezing gently. “you overthink too much,” he whispers, his lips brushing your temple. you want to believe him, but the way his actions and words never quite align.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍

"you okay, sweetheart?" jungwon’s voice is soft as he leans in, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. the nickname makes your heart flutter, though it shouldn’t—not when you don’t even know what you are. his hand lingers on your cheek, thumb grazing your skin in a way that feels too intimate for two people who supposedly have no strings attached. “you’ve been quiet,” he murmurs, his concern evident as he tilts his head to meet your gaze. the way he looks at you, like you’re the only one in the room, sends mixed signals. he’s always so gentle, holding doors open, walking you home, yet never crossing a line. “i’m fine,” you reply, your voice barely audible. jungwon smiles, that warm, heart-stopping smile, before pressing a featherlight kiss to your temple. “you’ll tell me if you’re not, yeah?” but you’re not sure if he means it the way you hope he does.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈

"c’mon, sweetheart, admit it—you missed me," riki smirks, leaning lazily against the counter, arms crossed. his teasing tone earns him an eye roll, but he just chuckles, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “don’t flatter yourself,” you shoot back, crossing your arms. he steps closer, his fingers brushing yours like it’s casual—except it never is with him. "admit it, you love having me around," he whispers, eyes glinting with amusement. "love’s a strong word," you retort, but he grins wider, clearly enjoying the banter. "fine, like then. i’m irresistible, aren’t i?" you laugh, shoving his shoulder. "keep dreaming, ki." he gasps dramatically. "you wound me," his hand presses to his chest, and before you can respond, he flicks your forehead, grinning. “see? you do like me—i’m growing on you.”

[14dayswithyou]

As a humble admirer of Everything Yandere and of the inner workings of the sick and twisted minds of loving, lovesick maniacs and of their warped and muddled perceptions of love and intimacy, I pose you the question: What type, kind, flavor, species of Yandere is Ren/Redacted? I've gone through the asks on the blog answering what lovesick and yearning behaviors he goes through, why he does them, what they mean to him — but can we go deeper? What disturbing things does Ren do, be it for his own twisted satisfaction and perception of "love", be it to those he sees as threats to his Angel? What are his limits, where does he draw the line, how far is he willing to go to get what he wants, and who is he willing to hurt and how? Where does he draw the line when it comes to Angel? I know he would never physically hurt them, but what kind of mental warfare would he inflict on them to get them where he wants? Are we talking isolation, manipulation, gaslighting, brainwashing? And if so, how does that happen?

I'd be very very happy if you'd be okay with going into this analysis — and would it be possible to answer the Yandere Alphabet for Ren? Thank you for blessing me with this mess of a boy and sowwy for the ramble ♡ ♡ Tell Ren to clean up the bloodstains he left earlier ♡

⌞♥⌝ Because I get this question a lot, I personally feel like I've answered it to the fullest possible extent that I can gdkfgjdj ^^; So if you haven't already seen them, I reccomend going through these asks: one, two, three, four, and five!

As for your other questions:

I've highlighted them in pink to make it easier to reference/link it back to the questions above

The "disturbing" things Ren would do to his victims have been answered more or less in a few of the asks mentioned above.

Ren honestly doesn't have any major limits aside from physically harming or forcing himself onto Angel in any way. He doesn't find any pleasure in doing so, nor would he ever want to turn out like his father — much less subject the only person he genuinely cares about to the same things he had to endure as a child.

Ren also doesn't really draw the line anywhere — again, aside from upsetting Angel in any way — so anything is fair game when it comes to everyone else. But speaking as his creator for a moment, I will say that Ren is not the type to harm babies, animals, abandon his own/Angel's children, force himself onto anyone, or coerce anyone into sexual activities in order to get what he wants. That's icky af and I'm not rocking with it /gen /lh

On a slightly lighter topic, Ren is willing to go as far as necessary if it means having Angel rely on him and him only... So long as it keeps them happy at the same time. As much as he'd love to "remove" Angel's friends and family permanently, he won't entertain that thought if it'll make them upset. At most, he'd likely try non-lethal ways to get rid of them in hopes of keeping Angel happy (and oblivious).

One of Ren's major characteristics is that he's willing to change himself to suit Angel's needs, no matter how drastic it may be. If they find any sort of reliability or comfort in him by doing so, then he'll latch onto that notion and feed into it. By becoming someone Angel can trust and confide in, Ren would (potentially) be able to manipulate them and sway their thoughts... Almost like a metaphorical devil on their shoulder, in a sense lmao

I've said this a few times on this blog before, but Ren is the CEO of gaslighting and manipulation. He's down to try a bit of isolation if it's somehow possible to keep Angel happy while doing so, though I don't think Ren would be into mindwashing since he idolises, honours, and blindly trusts Angel's original thoughts more than his own. He wants them to genuinely develop feelings for him, not because he forced them to.

I've actually been asked to do the Yandere Alphabet by a few other people recently, so I'll get around to doing it sometime!! ^^

[bubblebbg]

can i ask for a jealous mizu from blue eye samurai feeling a little overprotective and jealous when taigen spars with reader bc they are a swordmaster as well? Mizu doesn’t like it how taigen always gets you to laugh or how he injures you when sparring

why yes, anon. you may. Only warning is violence, but like, not really? Not proofread. Also, Mizu's pronouns change per perspective. I may as well shamelessly plug my other Mizu fic right here ;))

❝𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬�� 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝❞

Mizu has no one to blame but herself when she's forced to bite back her envy and watch you with Taigen. If you two spar one more time, she might throw up in her mouth. It's about time she takes matters into her own hands.

The clinking of metal on metal, the air sliced through with a swish; all sounds Mizu has become accustomed to. Nonetheless, her eyebrow twitches in irritation, eyes following the movements in front of her. She thinks to herself that she never wanted to be this accustomed to those sounds, especially not when accompanied with Taigen's stupid remarks.

She watches you double back after having knocked him down yet again in the midst of your spars. She hates the way the both of you giggle.

"Please," Mizu rolls her eyes, "It can't be that funny the eighth time."

Taigen collects his sword and stands, sheathing it before dusting himself off. "Like you could do any better. Sure, you're good, but you're no master." He looks to you as he says this, smiling as if the praise was at all inconspicuous. She scoffs a bit when you smile back, crossing her arms and looking to the side.

The irony of her jealousy is that it's of her own making. You've asked Mizu to train with you before, and every time it's been a no. Because she cares about you, she at least does you the decency of making up excuses. "I'm tired, maybe tomorrow" or "I'm busy" - poor excuses, she knows, but she's trying here - and you've learned to stop asking. The truth is, she doesn't trust herself to not give away what she tries to keep hidden. Her heart already beats hard enough around you. The consequence? Watching you spar with a man who's clearly inferior to you, all while he makes pathetic advances and jokes. She's not sure if she hates him or herself more right now.

"But that's right," Taigen remarks, a snarky look on his face, "You're too scared, aren't you?"

The look in your eyes is cautionary as you nudge him. "Stop it," you mutter. And Mizu knows she shouldn't be so childish as to take the bait, but this isn't about you; it's a direct challenge from Taigen on her (sort of) manlihood.

"I am not scared."

"Then prove it. Duel. Right now."

"That's enough, Taigen," you reply, always the mediator, "If Mizu doesn't want to spar, then he -"

"I'll do it," she stands, approaching you both and stopping in front of Taigen with a searing look, "And you'll see that you're not even half the swordsman I am."

𓆩… . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . …𓆪

Inhale. Exhale. You stand face to face, a few meters apart, each a hand on their sword. The cold bites, snow falling between the two of you. When you look into her eyes, you see blazing fire, a spirit like tempered steel. When she looks into yours, there's something more unnerving; calm, like the surface of water undisturbed. Her heart pounds.

Inhale, she wills herself. Exhale. She draws and lunges, and you're quick to block it. Another swing, and another, and another, all quick and strong. Sharp eyes, she thinks. Each attack of hers is stopped as soon as it begins. Your eyes, watching as if not only to prevent, but to predict.

Inhale. She steps back, assessing. You're like a fortress - impenetrable defense. Your lips curl in the slightest smile and there goes her damn heart's pounding again.

Exhale. She drops to a crouch and swipes snow at you in an attempt to blind you, to throw off your analysis. She lunges through the spray with a decisive blow, a duel-ending strike.

Nothing. Her blade hits nothing.

Instead there's a blade at her throat, with you behind her. "How the hell did you -"

She reddens at the feeling of your warm chuckle at her ear. "You're breathing gives you away," you whisper, "Every time, without fail." You sheath your blade and Mizu whips around to look at you. She can't help but share the smile you give her. "Dirty bastard," she replies, and your laughter fills the air, the only sound she'll never tire of.

"Hah! I knew it, you're no match either, Mizu!"

Mizu's about to reply when you beat her to it.

"Whatever Taigen, he lasted longer than you ever will."

And it's Mizu's turn to laugh.

[yanderefarm]

I want to pamper and breed Ares at the same time.

adoring and breeding ares

cw;; overstimulation, somnophilia, breeding kink, feminization (ares not reader)

you're so fucking real for that anon. im so glad you all like ares so much he's so baby girl.

imagine coming home to your beautiful wife. imagine seeing his beautiful face smiling at you when you walk through the door. ares would think seeing him every day would if not get boring at least become overly comfortable but every time you're reminded of your domestic bliss you practically tear up.

once you get him to bed you're insatiable. you have him in your arms, your mouth trailing hot kisses down his neck. his voice is so loud, its always so loud. your mouth reaches his chest and you begin the process of adoring his soft mounds. the muscle welcomes your hands, skin sinking into the meat of his chest while your mouth busies itself on the other side kissing the tender skin around his nipple. his breath hitches when you finally wrap your lips around his perky bud, his hand grabbing your hair and trying to force you further against his skin. when you bite into his skin he lets out a deep moan, his head rolling back. you can feel the obvious wet spot in his pants.

"so good to me." his fingers running through your hair.

you drag your mouth away with a wet pop leaving a trail of saliva connecting your lips to his pink bud. "you're so good for me. you deserve to relax and lose yourself to me."

ares practically melts in your arms with that, his heart pounding in his chest. "gonna treat me good?"

"so good. i'm gonna make you cum until you can't breathe anymore and then i'm gonna pump you full of my babies."

and oh did you. ares came first untouched from you just bullying his chest. you left hickeys and bite marks all over his sensitive nipples. when you focused on one side with your mouth your fingers would pull and massage the other. you gave his pretty tits a slap after feeling him make a mess in his pants. oh how pretty he sobbed at the abuse.

once you finished adoring his beautiful chest you helped him out of his messy pants. you laid him down on the bed exposing his completely naked body to you. you pushed his thick thighs open so you could see his swollen cock. he was covered in his own cum and still leaking precum from his red tip. you licked at his pretty cock, cleaning up all the wasted cum before you sought about kissing and biting his thighs. you alternated between kissing his leaky cock and leaving your marks on his thighs. he came so quickly the second time, his thighs shaking and closing desperately around your head.

you cleaned up his mess again, teasing him for being so easy. then you set about his tight ass. your hands pushed his thighs to his chest while your mouth kissed his perineum. you ran your tongue between his soft cheeks drawing a particularly loud moan from him. you let his legs rest on your shoulders while your hands busied themselves with massaging and squeezing his ass. you bit into his ass reveling in the way he practically sobbed in pleasure. once you were done just adoring his cheeks you started to lick greedily at his hole. your tongue alternated between lapping at and pushing into his tight hole. you two fucked just about every night and he was always so tight. you had to really work to finally get your tongue past the ring of muscle. that was when he came the third time.

"baby, your cunt is so greedy." you cooed when your finger pushed into him.

he loved when you talked to him like that, his cock jerking against the splatter already on his stomach. you just laughed at him before you went back to slurping at his hole. you licked around the rim while your finger pressed into him. you added a second finger and began scissoring them to stretch out his tight ass. he was moaning and sobbing, his hands buried in the sheets as he tried not to cum a fourth time. that was in vain when you used your fingers to spread his hole enough to also push your tongue inside. he came immediately, tears dripping down his red cheeks.

you finished stretching him open before slapping his ass. you pulled him into your lap, your own hard cock pressed against his thigh. he gasped and looked at you with teary eyes.

"so big..." he whimpered like he had never felt your size before in his life.

"its ok honey." you lined your tip up with his fluttering hole.

"too much... c-cant..." his over sensitive body writhed weakly on the sheets.

"you can take it, be a good girl." one hand gently cupped his face while the other pressed your cock right against his hole.

"nngh, nooo...~" he whined but you weren't buying it with his needy tone.

he was so pretty, his lips were coated in his own saliva as he drooled. you leaned down and caught his lips, your tongue licking up some of the drool as you pressed your bulbous tip into his still tight hole. he came for the 5th time that evening, his loud moaning muffled by your mouth.

you had no respect for how sensitive and spent his body was. he sobbed fat wet tears as you pumped his cock with one hand while you fucked into his warm hole. his warm wet walls squeezed your cock trying to suck you back in everytime you pulled out in contrast to how between his pathetic sobs he babbled about how it was too much.

"your pretty cunt wants to be bred so much sweet thing." you cooed before giving him a kiss.

"too much~! ngh, hurts~!" he cried as his cock dribbled out a bit of cum.

"don't you want to be a mommy?" you teased, your hand pumped him through another orgasm.

"yesh, please-"

"then hold on honey. I'll make you a pretty mommy." at your words ares dragged his arms away from clutching the sheets and wrapped them around your neck.

you finally relented letting his semi soft cock lay limp against his stomach. you hooked your arms under his thighs and pressed them to his chest, folding him in half. this allowed you to hit even deeper inside of him. the new angle also made it so you rubbed right against his prostate with every thrust. he thought he would get some relief from cumming over and over again but no. the first deep thrust had his spent cock spilling more cum onto his chest and your pace did not get gentle from there.

ares was screaming, babbling, sobbing as your cock absolutely abused his tight hole. he was shooting blanks at this point his cock dripping out a little cum with every thrust. he was covered in cum when you shot your first load deep in his cunt. but you didn't stop.

"i can't get you pregnant like that, can I?" you shifted your position into a proper mating press.

he babbled a little no before you started fucking him again.

you didn't let him rest until well into the night. his body passed out at some point but that hadn't stopped you from pumping load after load into him. his stomach had actually started to bulge a little bit by the time you were done. you pulled your filthy wife into your arms and covered him in soft kisses. god you were so lucky.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Grouchy II

Katrina Gorry x Baby!Reader

Summary: Mini thinks she's not giving you enough attention

It's a random tweet that sent Katrina on this tailspin.

It shouldn't have even caught her interest but it did. It shouldn't have even made its way onto her feed but it did. It was just a throw away tweet, like one of those inside jokes fans randomly have that the players could never really hope to understand.

But, still, Mini read it and now, she couldn't stop thinking about it.

'Still kind of funny that we see Harper all the time but not y/n. Favouritism perhaps? 🤪🤪🤪'

At first, she thought it was complete crap. Of course there was no favouritism in the house. Mini loves both you and Harper equally. You're both her kids.

But, as she lay caged in Clara's arms one night, she couldn't stop thinking about how right the tweet was. Not the stuff about favouritism but the stuff about not seeing you as much as Harper.

Harper is all over Mini's and West Ham's social media but you aren't. You feature a bit more heavily on Clara's account but that's only because you're usually in Clara's company more because Mini's at training.

There's no favouritism, at least nothing that Mini does on purpose. But she can't help but think.

Harper goes to kindie and Mini is quick to take care of you in the morning. It was her only day off in a while and the plan was for Clara to drop Harper off at kindie and take you out to meet some of her friends while Mini got to sleep in.

Mini, instead, insists that she'll get up at normal time so the two of you can hang out while Clara can fully enjoy her time with her friends.

"Alright, bubs," Mini says as she all but shoves Clara out of the door," What do you want to do?"

You wrinkle your nose up at her before turning away to play with your drum.

Mini sits down in front of your as you bang your drum with a closed fist. It's a bit embarrassing to think that she isn't quite sure how to play with you. You've got such a grumpy disposition that even doing something you enjoy is usually done with a frown.

Mini isn't quite sure when you're actually having fun and when you're not.

She reaches for your other drum and you stop banging to look at her. Mini bangs on her drum too.

She watches your reaction but you don't really give one so she bangs on it again and again.

You screech once in warning and Mini freezes.

You bum shuffle towards her and grab her hand.

She's been banging on the drum with an open hand instead of a fist so you force her hand into one before shuffling back to your drum.

You demonstrate with your own fist and wait.

Mini hits the drum in the same way and you seem satisfied, going back to playing again.

"Are you having fun, Bubs?" She asks and you kind of just grunt in some semblance of an answer.

Eventually, you get bored of your drum, kicking it away and standing up.

You fetch a book from the book corner before collapsing onto Mini's lap. Her arms come around you instantly and you clumsily open the book.

"Do you want me to read that for you?" She asks and you shove it into her hands.

It's one of those silly books made out of cardboard but Mini can't remember the last time she read to you so she's happy to do it, putting on an excited voice to try and draw you in.

You keep bringing her more books after that and Mini can happily say that this morning has been a success in her eyes.

You're still open to her affection and attention. She hasn't messed up too badly. So long as she makes sure to lather you in attention behind closed doors then it doesn't matter what people on the internet say.

"I'm home!" Clara calls out as she opens the door and suddenly you're shuffling away from Mini over to where the stuffed toys are waiting.

"Clara!" Mini laughs teasingly," You scared her off!"

Clara gives her an odd look. "I'm surprised she was even sitting on you. You know what Bubs is like."

Mini frowns. "Huh?"

Clara keeps talking as she takes off her shoes and coat. "You can never get that girl to willingly have cuddles with someone."

Objectively, Mini knows that. Capturing you for your bedtime kiss and cuddle is always a bit of a struggle and Mini's never really seen you sitting on Clara's lap during the day either.

"We read a story together," She replies and Clara laughs.

She crouches down in front of you, swiping a hand through your hair. Your brow wrinkles in answer as you turn to look at her.

"Did you read a book with Mummy because you see her do it with Harper?"

You don't answer.

"Huh?" Clara continues, poking you in one of your chubby cheeks that you puff out in annoyance. "Were you trying to make Mummy happy by doing something she does with your sister? You're such a sweetheart, Bubs."

"I...What?" Mini demands and Clara keeps laughing.

"Mini," She says," You know Bubs doesn't like playing with people. She did it because it makes you happy."

"But the book-"

"They're Harper's books."

"The drum-"

"Harper's drum."

"Did...Did I get duped by a baby?"

Mini must be imagining it but she's sure that she can see a smug little smirk on your face before you turn around to gnaw on the arm of one of your toys.

"Apparently so."

[rosenclaws]

Different Side of the Track || 50's Greaser!Logan smut

summary: All your life your parents had created the perfect image of their daughter that you were forced to fit into but when you went off to college and came back with a degree they were nothing but ashamed. Claimed that it wasn't a ladies place to be educated like that. So why not ruin their good family image even more and sleep with the older hot and mysterious man with a motorcycle.

warnings: MINORS DNI, SMUT, fem!reader, breast play, doggy style, rough sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, borderline abusive family, sexism, harassment from a group of assholes, violent Logan.

wc: 4.6k

halloween masterlist || join my discord!

a/n: It's my birthday! So to celebrate I wrote this fic because I couldn't get the idea out of my head and god he's hot. Also I didn't really try to do proper 50's talk because I'm lazy and I cannot handle all the research jaldfk;s. This ended up a little angstier than normal, as my fics usually do lol. The ending isn't my favorite but I tried im sorry asdfjkl. Okay anyways I really hope you like it!

You truly hated this town. College was a breath of fresh air and while it wasn’t always easy, it was better than home. You got your degree, proudest day of your life. Even if your parents didn’t show up. Even if you had to smile in the picture by yourself, watching everyone else celebrate with their families. Your parents never understood your want to go to college.

You thought they’d be proud but if anything they were ashamed. They think that a woman pursuing higher education was unladylike. That a woman's place was to stay at home and take care of the kids. They were embarrassed of you, refused to acknowledge any of your achievements.

You wished you could have stayed in your college town but then you got the letter. Your grandmother had passed and you needed to come home. You were heartbroken. Your grandmother was the only one to support you, and helped you when you worked countless hours at the diner to pay for it. She celebrated when the acceptance letter came in and she gave you the biggest hug when you left.

Coming home was a no-brainer, needing to be here for her funeral but now you’re stuck at home with your parents and life is miserable. You were counting down the days until you could get out of here again. You spent as much time as you could out of the house.

Going to work, dreaming of another life. Doing literally anything you could to stay out and away from your parents. That’s how you found yourself here. Taking midnight shifts at the diner to stare at the man sitting at the counter.

Logan. It was sewed onto the patch on his jumpsuit. You don’t even know his last name but you do know that you want to know everything about him. He worked at the mechanic shop right across the street. He was dark, brooding, mysterious. He didn’t talk to anyone. Just ordered one black coffee and sat there with the paper. This was a small town and you had never seen or heard of him before.

“You’ll catch flies if you don’t shut your mouth there pumpkin.” You feel a hand on your jaw and you swat it away. Betty, your coworker was grinning like a madwoman. She was a sweet old lady who has worked at this diner for longer than you’ve been alive.

“Oh hush.” You look down at your order sheet. Sketches of your patrons fill the empty sheets. Mostly drawings of Logan.

“I don’t blame you sweetheart, he’s a dreamboat if I’ve ever seen one.” She sighs dreamily as she looks at him.

“Who is he?”

“Not sure, rolled into town one day. Plenty of rumors, though, say that he was an army guy. Some say that he’s running from the law.” You gasp at the idea.

He couldn’t be a convict could he? You’d never met anyone like that. Though, you feel yourself grow curious instead of fearful. Your whole life you lived in the perfect world. Perfect family with a lot of money and a perfect reputation to uphold. You got the perfect grades, had the perfect friends and still your life felt anything but perfect. You craved something more, needed it. You couldn’t live the rest of your life as someone's housewife. That wasn’t your dream.

“Looks like he needs a refill..” Betty nudges your arm and pushes you forward. You eye the apple pie sitting in the case and steal a slice. No better way to get a man to talk than give him pie right? Clearing your throat you head over and put on a smile.

“Hi Logan.” He looks up from the paper with his usual stony face. A beat passes and he doesn’t speak.

“This is for you, on the house.” You place the pie down in front of him. You shift nervously in your spot as you pour coffee into his cup. He’s never told you his name, does he think you’re a freak or something?

“It’s on your uniform, you know. Your name.” You wince at how horribly awkward this feels. He looks down.

“That supposed to be me?” He grunts out. You tilt your head in confusion before following his gaze. Your guest checks with drawings all over them. Drawings of Logan. You slam your hands down and stuff them in your pocket.

“No! I mean, yes but it’s nothing. Just drawings I. I’m sorry.” Logan just looks at you and you walk off in shame.

Mentally kicking yourself as you sulk back to the kitchen. Betty takes over serving him as you silently wait on the remaining people. By the time your shift is over your back aches and you’re still replaying that moment in your head.

“See you tomorrow Betty!” You say as you put on your coat.

“Hold on dear, this is for you.” She hands you a napkin and winks. Confused, you open it up to see messy handwriting. 

Thanks for the pie doll

-Logan

Logan has come by every night since then. Ordering one black coffee and you sneak him whatever pie is left. Sometimes it’s apple, other days it’s pecan. Today’s pie is pumpkin. Just in time for the fall season. He’s still a man of few words but he’s always polite. Pays and says thank you with that handsome voice of his. You’ve gathered some information on him. Mostly from the town gossip.

The group of boys, greasers who would often come by and cause a ruckus, idolized him. He drove a motorcycle, fixed cars, and smoked like there was no tomorrow. In some weird way he’s become their parental figure. Not that he really gave a shit but he worked with them at the shop and he took care of them when he needed to. He strolled in again today. This time he looks at you and throws you a wink. It’s a little routine the two of you have now. Not much talking but it’s nice. You think you’ll be able to get him to open up soon enough.

“Thanks doll.” Logan says as he sits on the worn stool. You hand him his coffee and pie, already prepared just the way he likes it.

“So, do I get to know your last name yet?” He smirks and takes a sip of his coffee.

“How about you fetch me a napkin first. Then I’ll think about it.” You roll your eyes playfully and he smiles. The door jingles and you hear the sound of obnoxious laughing. You look up to see the jerkiest looking boys you’ve ever seen. They wore letterman jackets that seemed too small and talked too loud.

One of the boys, a blonde guy who seemed vaguely familiar whistles at you. You hold back a scoff as you walk over to their table. They’re looking you up and down with a gaze that makes you shiver. Absolute jerks.

“Hey sweetheart, why don’t you be a good girl and get us some milkshakes.” You clench your jaw as you jot down their order.

It dawns on you that you know exactly who that guy is. David Scott. He was in your high school class. Quarterback, the popular guy every girl in school wanted, and the worst human being you’ve ever met. He was nothing but a no good bully. It seems fitting he’s never truly moved on from this town as he was dumber than a bag of rocks. Logan catches your eyes as you head back to the counter. Preparing their order and trying to tune out their annoyingly loud voices. Before you head back with their order you top off Logan’s coffee.

“You know drinking this much caffeine can’t be good for you.” You say.

“And yet you’re still serving me.” He shoots back. You shrug your shoulders and smile, he’s got you there.

“Hey! You done serving grandpa over there.” Logan growls and his grip tightens on his cup.

“Ignore them, they’re nothing but a bunch of idiots.” You say under your breath. You bring the tray of drink over and set them down.

“Anything else?” You ask through gritted teeth.

“Nope.” David whispers something to his friend before moving his hand and spilling his shake all over you and the floor. His friends burst out laughing and you bend down to clean up the mess. Counting down the seconds until they leave. You’re too focused on cleaning to hear David whisper to his friend.

“Watch this.” You hear the stool fall and suddenly you’re pushed to the ground.

“Get off me!” You turn around and see Logan holding David by the collar of his shirt. Teeth bared and a dangerous look in his eyes.

“Logan!” You scramble to your feet as he shoves David into the booth.

“Think you’re funny bub? You’re lucky she’s here or I’d beat you to a pulp.” He growls, eyeing his friends who are now cowering in fear. You stand stunned as Logan seems to command the room.

“I’ll give you ten seconds to scram or I’ll make good on my promise.” He rolls up the sleeves of his jumpsuit and grins. You’ve never seen a group of boys in so much panic.

“And don’t forget to pay.” Logan says with a smirk. They throw down more than enough money and bolt out the door.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” You say softly as Logan seems to calm down.

“Fuckin’ idiots.” He shakes his head and gently pushes you away from the mess.

“Broken glass doll, gotta be careful.” Silently the two of you clean up the mess, him scooping up the glass and you cleaning the table.

You watch carefully as he handles the glass, watching to make sure he doesn’t cut himself. You see a piece of glass slice his hand and you hurry to the back to get a band aid. However when you come back the cut is gone, maybe it was just strawberry? The clock strikes 4am and the new waitress comes through the door, relieving you of your duties. He waits for you to clock out and walks you out the door.

“Thank you again Logan.” He just shrugs and lights a cigarette.

“Let me walk you home.” He offers and you accept. The walk is silent as you head to your home. You eye his cigarette and he notices. He holds it out to you and you take it. Taking a puff and immediately coughing it back up. Logan chuckles as he takes it back.

“Never smoked before?” You shake your head and he just smiles. Figures.

You’re much too sweet to have done anything bad. Just looking at the houses around him he knows that you’re as high society as they come. When you reach your house Logan stands on the sidewalk, watching as you walk up the driveway. You look at your door and then turn around to hurry back to Logan. Leaning in you kiss his cheek and he almost drops his cigarette.

“Bye Logan.” You bite your lip as you slowly walk back. As you walk through the door you hear him call to you.

“Howlett, my last name is Howlett.” 

Your sweet night with Logan turned sour the minute you woke up. Your parents were down at the breakfast table. Scowling with disappointed looks on their face. Oh great what else is new.

“You need to quit.” Your dad says and you laugh.

“What?”

“Do you know how embarrassing it is for us to tell people you’re working at a diner? You come home smelling like smoke? It’s insulting the family!” Your mother hisses and you feel tears well up in your eyes. You knew they were cruel but to hear those words from your own mother. It hurt.

“I am an adult, I don’t have to listen to you anymore.”

“As long as you’re living here you do. Now go down and tell them or I will.” Your father stands and stares you down. You feel so fucking helpless. It’s true. You’re stuck here and the money you’ve saved up isn’t enough to get out of here just yet.

You storm out of the house, letting the tears fall once you’re out of their view. The walk to the diner is miserable. You don’t want to quit, you like your job. Tears fall as you tell your manager, apologizing and leaving with your tail tucked between your legs. You hated this. You longed to be free and now you’re trapped at home.

Sitting on a bench outside of the diner you let yourself cry. Not wanting your parents to see any sign of weakness from you.

“Hey, everything okay doll?” You look up and see a blurry Logan from your watery eyes. He’s got grease and oil on his face and suit. Wiping his hands with a rag.  You shake your head and Logan sits next to you.

“My parents made me quit.” He scoffs in disbelief.

Oh Logan knows all about your father. He wasn’t sure until last night but once he saw your house he knew exactly who your family was. Flaunting their money and status to spit on those lower than them. He serviced your fathers car a few times. Adding pointless upgrades. On the bright side he charges him double and your father doesn’t even bat an eye.

“That’s bullshit.” Logan says angrily. You’ve told him about your life. How disrespectful your parents are. How stupid they can be, anyone should be proud of their daughter getting a degree but they think it’s shameful. You’re smart, pretty, a real perfect girl.

“I don’t know what to do.” You say in such a defeated tone.

“You can always spend time at my work, don’t know if it’s the kind of place you’re used to hanging around but-” He gets cut off as you lunge at him. Hugging him tightly as you seek comfort in his arms. He freezes but slowly places his arms around you. Your perfectly crisp and clean dress was now dirty by his hands but you don’t care.

“I owe you so much Logan, you’ve been a real life saver.” You don’t want to let go. He’s toned, even with the jumpsuit over him. He’s strong and his arms are so warm and welcoming.

“Don’t worry about it doll, can’t stand to see a pretty girl like you so upset.” You lean up and kiss his cheek again. He grins as you scoot closer to him. Suddenly he pushes you back. You’re confused until you see your father pulling up next to the diner. Oh god did he see anything?

“You quit?” He asks, glaring at the dirt on your dress.

“Yes. I quit.” You say unhappily but he doesn’t care. He shifts his eyes to Logan.

“What happened there?” He says accusingly, you know your father wouldn’t hesitate to threaten Logan despite Logan being much stronger. It’s the egotistical nature of him.

“She fell, I caught her.” Logan lies so easily. Your father hums and drops it to your relief.

“I need you to look at my car tomorrow, something’s wrong with the brakes.”

“Got it.” Logan says casually and you can see your father roll his eyes. He drives off leaving the two of you on the bench.

“Say, why don’t you come by with your father tomorrow. I’d be happy to show you a few things” Logan offers, a flirty tone to his voice.

He walks off before you can respond, needing to get back to work. You throw the idea around in your head as you head back home. There’s no denying that Logan is hot. Really hot. He’s everything your parents hate. Lower class, older, doesn’t care about their status. It would drive them insane if you started to hang around a guy like him.

Though you don’t want to just use him to get back at your parents. You really do like him. It’s a win win in your head. Smiling to yourself you already start to pick out your outfit for tomorrow.

Ready to cause a little chaos. 

Your father didn’t understand why you wanted to come with him but you gave him so stupid excuse and he bought it. Your father pulled the car in and threw the keys at Logan. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes but Logan does it for you. Despite Logan being much more knowledgeable about cars, your father still talks down to him. It’s rude and classist and you hate it.

“I’d like to stay, you know, make sure nothing goes wrong.” Your father scoffs but leaves you be.

“He’s real lucky I don’t punch his lights out.” Logan mutters as he pops the hood of his car.

“I’m really sorry, you don’t deserve that.” Logan shrugs. He’s used to it by this point.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about me.” He leans over and kisses your cheek.

He wipes off a seat for you to sit on and you watch him work. There’s something about the way he moves that’s just…attractive. His muscles strain in his jumpsuit, sweat drips down his face. And the noises, god the noises. The grunts when he moves something heavy. Then he does the unthinkable. He unzips his jumpsuit, taking off the top half and tying it around his waist. Leaving him in just a white tank top.

Now you really have a show. You don’t know how much time has passed and you don’t care. Slowly the garage empties as people head to lunch until it’s just you and Logan. Logan can feel your eyes on him. In fact he loves it. Your cute face is staring at him like a piece of meat. He can see you shift on the leather stool. He can smell how bad you want him. It’s desperate, almost pathetic how badly you want him. He stands up, making sure to flex his arms as he sets down the wrench. 

“You alright doll, you look a little hot?” Logan feigns concern as he steps closer to you. Placing his hands on the workshop table. Caging you in.

“I’m okay.” You eye his chest shamelessly, eyes traveling down to the bulge in his suit.

“Yeah? I don’t know…” He slowly takes your sweater off. Leaving your arms bare and your cleavage on show for him.

“I’m not sweet doll, not gonna treat you like a good girl.” He growls in your ear and you whimper. Oh you need him bad.

“I’ll break a sweet thing like you, but something tells me you want that.” You grab his face and smash your lips to his. It’s messy and dirty, teeth knocking against each other as you fight for dominance. Logan slips his hands under your dress, lifting you up to the workbench and stepping in between your legs. Your hands are locked in his hair. Tugging hard as he deepens the kiss. He groans into your mouth. His hands rip your dress at the top. You gasp as his lips trail down your neck leaving sloppy wet kisses until he reaches your boobs.

“Fuck.” He squeezes your chest roughly, purring at the feeling of them in his hands.

“So cute.” He says with a wink as he leans down and bites your nipples roughly. He promised he wouldn’t be nice and he meant it. He shamelessly grinds his bulge against your wet panties.

“Dirty girl, letting a no good mechanic touch you like this. What would your daddy say hm?” He taunts as his hands move to slip up your dress. Pulling your panties down and stuffing them in his pocket.

“Who fucking cares?” You spit out as you grind your hips. Soaking his suit with how wet he’s made you.

“Oh, pretty girls got a mouth on her.”

“Just hurry up!” You whine as you slip your hands under his tank top.

Lifting it over his head so you could get the view of his muscular body. He unties his jumpsuit and yanks it down, letting his hard cock free. To your surprise he picks you up and brings you to your dads car.

“Turn around.” He lifts your dress up and bends you over the hood of the car. His hands run across your ass, squeezing and admiring the view as he slowly grinds his cock along it. The tip of his dick slides in and you moan.

“Yeah, feels good doesn’t it doll.” He says cockily as he renders you utterly speechless.

The stretch is unbelievably amazing as he bottoms out. You whine as you feel every vein, every twitch of his cock inside of you. He’s so big. Everything about him is big. His presence, his arms, his cock. He was just big. He barely gives you anytime to adjust before fucking hard into you. Your hands claw for anything to hold onto. The hood of the car is too slippery so Logan just pins your arms behind your back instead.

“Naughty, naughty girl.” Logan huffs as he leans down to bite your ear. His pace is relentless. Pounding the words right out of you.

“Letting me fuck you on your daddies car.” He puff his chest out proudly. He’s tearing you apart on your asshole fathers car. Making you moan his name as he desecrates his car.

“Feels so good Logan. Oh god!” His cock hitting that perfect spot in you every time. Over and over. It’s unrelenting. You involuntarily shift your hips. The pleasure becomes overwhelming.

“Where are you going doll? I’m not done with you yet.” He lets go of your hands and grabs your hips, pulling you back on his cock with a bruising grip.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You beg wildly as you move your hips back to meet his thrusts.

“Not planning on it.” He tilts his head back in pleasure as he pounds into you. He feels you clenching tightly around him. Your legs are quivering under him. There’s grease smudged all over your body, your face.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of the windshield. You’re completely disheveled, hair a mess. Makeup smeared and clothes torn. You look absolutely filthy and you love it. You can see Logan’s abs flexing as he thrusts his hips. His hands run up your sides. Taking you by the shoulders to slam you back on his cock. A weak cry leaves your throat with every thrust. Finally you break. A desperate, strangled moan as your body quakes. Shaking and rocking you right to your core.

“That’s it doll, I’ve got you.” He leans down and nudges his nose into your neck. Kissing softly as his thrusts slow just for a moment. Letting you breathe. You’ve never felt more happy in your life.

Logan kisses the side of your head as his hips grow sloppy. Chasing his release and savoring the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing him. With a loud groan he pulls out and finishes on your ass. Your eyes close as your body feels like it's melting. You can barely stand. Logan wipes you down with a clean rag, loving how fucked you appear to be. 

“I got you.” He gently picks you up and brings you to a bench. Laying his clean jacket over you as you will your legs to stop shaking.

“You alright?” He’s got a devilish grin on his face as he redresses himself. Somehow it’s like he’s back to normal while you’re wrecked.

“Perfect, oh my god you’re amazing.” You lean back into the bench and sigh happily.

“What the hell is going on here?!” You shoot up and see your father storming towards you angrily. You’re a mess and you don’t think Logan can lie his way out of this one. He’s angry. Really angry.

“You are nothing but a disappointment and you have been ever since you were born! A disgrace to the whole family! To the town! Doing such horrible things with the likes of him.” He snarls as he points at Logan. You’re stunned into silence.

“I have the right mind to never let you out of the house again you ungrateful little-”

Logan steps in front of him and he tries to hit Logan right in the face but fails miserably. You gasp as Logan pushes him against his car. You watch as boney claws shoot from his hands. Your father squirms in fear as the tips of his sharp claws grow closer to his neck.

“Shut the fuck up.” Logan growls.

“You’re a real fucking dick and a sorry excuse for a father. If I ever see you come near her again I’ll fucking kill you.” He lets go of your father and watches as he runs away. Yelling about mutant freaks. Logan turns back to you, a cold look settling on his face when he sees your face. Now you know his secret.

“You’re a mutant.” You say in awe. To his shock you reach out for him instead of running away.

“I am.” You admire the claws, how amazing.

“Beautiful.” His mouth gapes open as you pull him closer.

For once someone is looking at him like he’s normal, like he’s not a freak of nature. He longs for this but he knows your dad won’t go down quietly. He’ll tell the whole town.

“Look doll, you’re too good for this town. You’re too good for me.” He brushes your cheek softly.

“I can’t stay here anymore and you need to go home. Pretend you never met me. You’re a smart girl and you have a bright future ahead of you.” Logan takes his hand away and walks away.

“Logan!” You throw off his jacket, you're limping slightly but you refuse to let him go. He’s quick on his feet, already shedding his work clothes for his normal ones. A leather jacket thrown over his tank top. His motorcycle is out back. He’s got a backpack already packed and ready to go. Like he was waiting for this moment to happen.

“Take me with you!” You stand in front of his bike.

“What?” He asks in disbelief.

“Please, I hate this town. I have money saved. I can help but please don’t leave me.” You move closer to him, taking his hand in yours.

“I can’t live like this anymore, Logan. I’d give it all up to be with you”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“It’s not your choice. It’s mine so please, take me with you.” He wants to say no. To leave you here. It would break your heart and his but it’s what's best. But a part of him wants to be selfish. He could protect you, he could take care of you. But he fears you’d regret it eventually.

He’s overthinking and you can tell. You grab his jacket and kiss him gently. He groans as he slips his arms around you.

“Please.” You beg softly.

“I can’t promise you the life you’re used to.” He warns but his resolve is slipping.

“I don’t care.” He sighs and kisses you again. It’s becoming addicting. You’re completely addicting.

“Hop on doll,” He throws his leg over the bike and waits.

You waste no time jumping on behind him. Wrapping your arms around his waist as he revs his motorcycle. You lean into him and smile. He stops so you could say goodbye to Betty and grab a bag of clothes. He waited at the door, a grin on his face as his claws were proudly shown off to your parents.

Then he drives. Away from your horrible family and the horrible town. Your future is uncertain but with Logan, you’re confident things will work out.

He’s all you need. 

[shapelytimber]

Updated my au's recap to add Tarkin and Krennic :)

And of course I updated The Science

[COMMISSIONS]

(also fixed Sabé's sexuality ! Thank you to the Sabé connoisseurs for letting me know she has a canonical boyfriend at one point ! xoxo)

Yapping below vvv

Welcome to me and my struggle with imperial military uniforms fjdkdkk they just so boring and often khaki-

For Tarkin I took inspiration from a Star Trek concept that I'm so mad isn't a thing in Star Wars... The dress uniform ! The classy, just for show, uncomfortable version of classic uniforms ! (Couldn't believe that wasn't already a thing in sw, but when I searched for it I stumbled upon a sub reddit called "the empire did nothing wrong" and sometimes self care is to not clic on the clearly far right corner of your fandom to look upon a shitty fan made alterations of imperial uniforms 🌸)

Also, I had to make a choice here... Do I make the empire more strict when it comes to gender norms and expectations i.e do I put Tarkin in a skirt gkkgkffn like, I already kinda did that with both Tarkin and Krennic keeping their hair long. But in canon imperial uniforms are unisex and the same for everyone, which is great to like know the imperial military (in universe at least) doesn't do sexism a lot.... But once again, the canon uniforms are a bit boring to draw, they don't have the more classy ones you would wear for special occasions and frankly if you want a side to show more gender inequality would you pick the mismatched rebels fighting for their rights and to overthrow the government, or the established force in power that is also incidentally an empire that took inspirations from a real far right party hmmmmm

Let's look at what I made different about the empire in my au, a) Palpatine is a woman, they have an empress but b) said empress force masced her apprentice and made *him* the figure head of her empire. When you think of the empire you don't picture an old woman in a bathrobe, you picture Vader, a tall muscular cyborg with no face a glowy sword and evil telekinesis.... That is gendered in the masculine (still a dyke tho, but random civilians wouldn't know that- they don't even know if he's human). Having a woman lead a fascist empire doesn't make it better- (in my country, France, the far right party has been lead by a woman for the last 20 years and that doesn't make it fucking better)

All this to say I put her in pants fjkdkd tested with a skirt but it felt too uncanny.

And I also made her stand in the worst position to draw (for me at least) : perfectly facing the camera with a stick up her ass and at parade rest so with her hands behind her back fjkddk I struggled so hard to make it look somewhat good, and I'm still not really satisfied- also Peter Cushing's face with a hat that covers his forehead looks very wrong to me fjfkk

But enough about Tarkin ! For Krennic I also modified the uniform :D (for a second time jfofk link to the first post with another version of her uniform), but hers isn't the fancy version, it's very much her work clothes ! Still trying to distinguish her from the classic military, since she is more of an engineer/architect, so she get heels, slutty white gloves and a dramatic cape coat. Also I loved putting her in a very strict outfit but making it a bit messy in small ways kgfkgj one side of it isn't zipped all the way down, and her hair is coming down from her hasty made bun :)))

PS : one must always picture the death star as the third member of this relationship <3

[strangersteddierthings]

Beg You to Love Me

"I'm surprised you even remembered, Harrington," Eddie shrugs, hoping he comes off as aloof as he wants to, instead of shaky and unsure like he feels. He was sitting atop the picnic table, arms behind him trying to look as unaffected by Steve's presence as he can, but he's been thrown for a loop ever since Steve emerged from the woods instead of Robin Buckley, like he was expecting.

"Of course, I remember. I- I've never forgotten," Steve whispers, head down and fists clenched at his sides. He looks more like a child being wrongfully scolded than a man defending himself.

The words pull a scoff from Eddie, though. Never forgotten? What the fuck ever. "Right. Something to hold over me, then, if I'd stepped too far out of line? Mutually assured destruction?"

Steve's head snaps up and he looks horrified, which Eddie will admit to almost believing. Steve doesn't seem like the type to join the drama club but his acting's pretty fucking good. "What? No! I would have never- I would never have said anything about us to anyone."

"Right. Sure. Of course. Your own reputation to think about there."

Something like hurt flashes across Steve's face before it frosts over. This is the face he's used to see on Steve. Cold and distant. "I- whatever, man. I don't even know why I thought..." but Steve doesn't finish his sentence. He just shakes his head and turns his back on Eddie, heading back the way he came.

He doesn't know why that sparks a rage from deep within him. "Yeah, that's right. Tuck tail and runaway again!"

"I ran away?" Steve shouts back, turning sharply on his heel to glare at Eddie. "You think that I ran away?"

Eddie just spreads his hands to the empty clearing as if to say 'look at all this room around me you've never occupied'. "You weren't here, were you?"

"Because you told me to not be!" Steve stomps back to Eddie but stops a couple yards away.

"Like fuck I did," Eddie argues back, because he didn't tell Steve to go away. He'd told him-

"'If this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door.' That's what you told me," Steve quotes, "I thought it was pretty fucking clear what you wanted."

"Yeah, I fucking thought it was clear what I wanted," Eddie snarls, lunging from the picnic table, closing those last few feet to get into Steve's face. "Yet here we are!"

"Don't act like this is my fucking fault. Like you weren't the one who forced it to be my fault. My decision-"

"Yeah, it had to be your damn decision! You were dragging it out-"

"-because you were too much of a coward to do it your-fucking-self-"

"-acting like you were. Acting too good to actually slum it with the trailer trash-"

"-so of course I made the choice that was best for me. Because I deserved more-"

"-like what I had to offer you would never be good enough for the goddman King-"

"-than just being your hookup when I wanted to be-"

"-like I wasn't good enough to be your friend, much less-"

"-your fucking boyfriend!"

"-your fucking boyfriend!"

The contrast of this sudden silence that falls following their screaming match that ends with identical sentiments is jarring. Eddie feels wrong-footed and lost. Confusion and hurt mixing in him that he can see reflected on Steve's face.

"What?" Steve is the first to break the silence, drawing into himself. Arms crossing to hold himself at the elbows as he takes several steps back, as if to be able to see all of Eddie will clear the confusion he's feeling.

Eddie just stares back, slack jawed for a moment. That's. What. No, wait. Really, what? "What what?"

"You- you said 'if this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door'. How was I- I thought you- you were breaking up with me!" Steve cries, "you. You said that to make me pick, because you knew I wanted more and you didn't. That's- you were breaking up with me!"

Eddie's in just as much disbelief. "No, you broke up with me! I said if this isn't good enough but, like, I meant if I wasn't good enough. And you left! You walked out because I wasn't good enough to be with you!"

Steve looks stricken and he claws harder at himself, sort of folds into himself like he's going to be sick. "No. No no no, that's- then that means I- it's all been my fault. No no no no."

Eddie stares wide-eyed and frozen as Steve talks to himself. Eddie kind of feels nauseous. There's no way that this is possible. That these last two and a half years of heartbreak have been because of miscommunication. That they both thought the other was breaking up with them and neither actually wanted to.

"Why didn't you- Why didn't you say something?" Eddie asks.

Steve laughs at that, sounding a bit hysteric. "Me!? Why didn't you! I wasn't- I wasn't going to beg you to love me like I had with my parents. You were the one who told me I shouldn't have to do that!"

Yeah. He had. When Steve had broken down and cried on his bed, in his arms, wondering what it was he had done to lose his parents' love. Eddie told him it wasn't his fault, never would be, and that he would never need to beg for love from someone who does love him. It was the same advice Wayne had given him when he'd taken Eddie in.

"I already thought you were wanting to break up. You were being so distant, I thought..."

Steve sucks in a deep breath and nods, "Yeah. Yeah I was. I was scared of scaring you away. Of being too much. Because I- what I felt for you was a lot. I was afraid I'd chase you away if I continued to be so clingy. I pulled back, to reign it in but. Fuck. Fuck!"

Eddie drops to a squat. His legs feel like jelly and he can't keep standing. He squats and looks down so his hair becomes a curtain separating him from the reality of the situation, if only for a moment. Fuck is right.

He's spent his junior and first senior year being pissed at Steve. Hurt by him and what he thought happened. And it's- if Steve's being honest, it's all been for nothing. If they both wanted a deeper relationship, they could have had it. They might still be boyfriends if Eddie hadn't been so wrapped up in his Munson Doctrine. He'd been convincing himself Steve was embarrassed of him, and was working on breaking off their- whatever they were. But he hadn't been.

He's thought such terrible things about Steve over the years. God, what has Steve thought of him over the years? No. He doesn't want to know, actually. That's not what he cares about right now.

He lifts his head to see that Steve's plopped himself onto the ground, sitting cross legged, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

"Steve. Steve!" He calls Steve's name out until he looks up, looks at him, "why'd you come out here?"

He laughs again, slightly less hysterically, and he's shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to say. "I. Fuck, I was coming out here to beg you to love me."

"No you fucking weren't!" his tone is filled with disbelief.

"I was," Steve repeats, sounding amused and heartbroken at the same time. "I really, really was. Graduation's coming and I know you want to get out of Hawkins the second that happens and I'm. I was running out of time trying to get you to notice me again, so I was going to beg."

Notice him again? As if Steve doesn't haunt his every waking thought. As if he doesn't dream of Steve every night while his eyes seek him across the halls and in their few shared classes like he's the goddamn night sky and Eddie is a sailor lost at sea needing the north star to guide him home. Eddie's never not noticed him, and he thinks he has to come out here and beg? "When someone loves you, you don't have to beg."

"Yeah, I know," Steve sighs, defeated, which lets Eddie know that Steve does not, in fact, know. He looks away from Eddie, down to his lap.

Fuck, it's like every fantasy Eddie's had of them making up and then making out has been handed to him on a silver platter and he's blowing it. His words are too vague, too easily misinterpreted. Again. He falls forward on to his knees, hands catching him so he's on all fours like an animal. "Steve. I mean it. You don't have to beg."

"I get it, Eddie," Steve huffs, not looking at him. Not actually understanding.

Eddie starts to crawl the distance between them. Steve looks up then, probably to see what the fuck Eddie was doing with the shuffling sounds and the chain on his belt clacking. Eddie watches Steve's eyes go wide, mouth dropping open to a small 'o'. "See, the thing is, Steve," Eddie says, pulling himself up to be just on his knees to shuffle the last few inches closer. Steve leans back to keep his eyes on Eddie's face, which opens his lap up. "You said you know, but I don't think you do." Eddie brings his hands to rest on Steve's shoulders and Steve lets him. "You don't have to beg." He uses his hold on Steve's shoulders to balance himself as he swings a leg wide, to straddle Steve, then shifts his weight to repeat the process with his other leg before settling himself into Steve's lap. Steve's hands land on his hips and Eddie isn't sure if it's intentional or a reaction to Eddie plopping himself in his laps but he's going to believe it's the first one. "You've never had to beg with me."

Steve sucks in a sharp breath and then he collapses into Eddie. Steve's hands on his hips slide up and pull him into a hug, as close to Steve's body as he can get, while Steve shoves his head under Eddie's chin, into the junction of his neck and shoulder and breaths him in like it's the last breath Steve will ever take. "We're so stupid."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, as he lifts one hand to hold the back of Steve's head while the other drops to rub soothingly at his back. "Yeah, we are."

They sit in the dirt, the closest they've been since that summer between '81 and '82. They should probably talk about. They're going to have to, if they want this to work. Full sentences with no hidden meanings, even though the thought of that kind of vulnerability makes Eddie skittish. It's going to be difficult, but it'll be worth it. Steve has always been worth it.

Eddie wants to say 'I love you', just to get it out, in the open, and not just implied, but there's a different first step to take. One that's actually a little easier. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Me too," Steve whispers, "I'm sorry. I should have-"

"Shut up," Eddie cuts him off, voice quiet and soft as he can be. "This is, and I cannot stress it enough, a we situation."

The huff of laughter on his skin from Steve feels like the start of something. A new beginning, a start over. A re-do.

A goddamn miracle.

Later, they'll drag themselves apart and up. Make it to the back of Eddie's van in the school parking lot to talk. Going to either's house feel too much, too soon. Their big fight happened at Eddie's home, and Steve's house isn't warm enough for the kind of comfort they want to share.

They'll have a talk. Filled with long pauses, stumbling over words and fears and insecurities because this is the hard part of a relationship. Getting it all out in the open so they can learn if they'll even work. The fear that they aren't going to be compatible anymore looms but doesn't deter. They both want a second chance, to give it a real shot, by the end of that first talk. But taking it slow.

They'll discuss what went wrong the first time (diving in without talking about anything certainly played a big part) and how to avoid that.

But that's later. Right now, Eddie just holds Steve, and Steve holds him back, and it certainly feels like the beginning of something good.

-

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When They Accidentally Bring Up an Insecurity| Jisung

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You had always admired Han's loving spirit and his ability to find inspiration in the smallest things. He brought light into your life in ways you never thought possible. And he helped you see the world in a way most didn't. You loved that you had that in common with Han- an appreciation for things that breathed life into your creative works.

You had never been very good at drawing. Or writing. Or anything having to do with the fine arts. Rather your creativity came more in a problem solving way. But in order to connect with Jisung, you decided to take up sketching to connect with Han a little more, because you loved him.

But that just created a deep-rooted insecurity about your creative abilities. Surrounded by so many talented people - as you were around the kids -you often felt your own contributions paled in comparison, and it was a fear you kept to yourself.

One evening, Han was over at your place, working on some new lyrics while you attempted to write poetry. He was sprawled on the couch, notebook in hand, humming a melody under his breath. You sat at your desk, scribbling down words and then erasing them feeling increasingly frustrated with your lack of progress.

You had long given up drawing, and you thought it might be easier to write a poem, since it was words that described your feelings. You could easily write a poem about something you knew well right? It couldn't be that hard.

You scratched your head as you tried to think of rhymes.

"How's it going over there?" Han asked, glancing up from his notebook.

"Not great," you mumbled, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice.

Han chuckled, not noticing your tone. "I figured."

His casual comment felt like a sting, a reminder of your perceived inadequacies. You forced a smile and nodded, but inside, you felt your confidence crumbling.

He got up and walked over to you, picking up your paper in his hands. He chuckled. "Poetry now huh?"

You felt your cheeks burn and tried to take it from him. "No-"

"No jagiya I want to read it." He said holding it above your head and reading it. "You make me laugh when I am sad, Your jokes are the best I've ever had. When you smile, my heart feels light, You make everything so bright." Han giggled again. "It's like one of those poems we had to write in elementary school."

That made your cheeks burn even more. "Jisung give it back-"

"Your hugs are warm, your eyes so kind, With you, I leave my worries behind. You're my sunshine, my best friend, With you, I hope the good times never end." He gives you a cute pouty face in a teasing manner. "Awww Y/N... it's such a cute little poem. It's like a little nursery rhyme."

"Jisung stop!" You called out again, feeling your eyes burn as you put your fists to your eyes, the embarrassment you had taking over.

"I know my poem's not that great, But loving you is my favorite fate. Thank you Jisung..." His smile fell and he swallowed. "Thank you...Jisung for...for being you. My love for you is always true." He looked up and seemed to realize what he was teasing you about and his lip trembled. "Y/N-"

"I want to be alone." You mumbled through your tears. Jisung wanted to reach out, but he knew he had hurt your feelings, but knowing you he also knew you needed space.

The next few days were a blur of self-doubt and creative blocks. You avoided drawing and writing, and found excuses to stay busy with other tasks. Han noticed your change in behavior and even if you guys had talked a couple hours after the incident, he still didn't think his apology was enough.

One afternoon, while you were both working on a puzzle together, Han brought up the subject again. "Hey, you know I'm really really sorry right?"

You nodded. "I know. I'm not mad anymore, Jisung."

Han frowned. "But you haven't been writing at all. Or drawing...I feel like it's my fault. No...I know it's my fault. I'm sorry I made fun of your poem- I loved it. I really did. It's the sweetest thing anyone has ever written me..."

You felt a pang in your chest, wishing you could believe him. "Thanks, but sometimes it feels like I'm just not good enough."

Han looked taken aback. "What do you mean? You're incredibly talented."

You sighed, finally letting out a bit of your frustration. "It's just… I see how talented everyone else is, including you, and I can't help but feel like my work doesn't measure up."

Han's expression softened, and he reached out to squeeze your hand. "You're amazing in your own right, and comparing yourself to others isn't fair to you. I wouldn't ever want you to compare yourself to me. That's like comparing a doctor to an actor. Both are genius in their own right, but do you expect an actor to be able to perform surgery like a doctor? Or the doctor to recite the entire second act of Hamlet? You have your talents that I could never even begin to measure up to, Y/N. Its the same with everyone who walks this planet..."

His words were kind, but they didn't fully reach the core of your insecurity. You forced a smile and nodded, hoping the conversation would end there.

A week later, Han invited himself over to your house, hoping to put an end to both of your guy's misery. You hated feeling like you had to walk on eggshells around him, and he hated thinking he was making you uncomfortable.

You guys ate dinner and started watching a drama. After the fourth episode Han pressed the pause button.

"Baby...can I show you something?"

You nodded, slightly confused as to why Jisung would pause your binge.

He grabbed his laptop from his bag and came back towards you, placing his headphones on your head.

He unlocked his laptop, clicked a few buttons and a soft melody filled your ears. Your eyes widened.

"Did you guys wrtie a new song?" You asked excitedly, but Jisung shushed you gently and motioned for you to listen.

You closed your eyes and let yourself go, embracing the music fully.

You felt your heart almost stop when you heard the words of your poem masterfully intricated into the song.

"Why did you show me that?" you asked, your voice trembling. You didn't dare open your eyes, or you were sure the tears you had would fall.

Han sounded puzzled. "Because it's great and I wanted to share it."

"But it's not great," you snapped, tears falling from your eyes as you opened them. "People will know you just used those words. You're so much more well versed and-"

Han stopped in his tracks, realization dawning on him. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way. I just wanted to show them how talented you are.” You shook your head.

"Ouch, Y/N..." Jisung chuckled, his voice breaking a little. You looked at Han, whose chubby cheeks were encompassed by his pout. His boba eyes sad.

"No- No baby I meant... I feel like my words are stupid. Not your voice. Your song was absolutely beautiful... I just feel like I made you waste such a good backtrack."

You wiped away a tear, feeling exposed and vulnerable. "It's not your fault. It's just… I can't help but feel like I'll never be as good as everyone else. And I feel like you did that to make me feel better..."

Han pulled you into a tight hug, his voice gentle and soothing. "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You're incredibly talented and creative, and your art is a reflection of who you are. It's unique and beautiful, just like you."

You clung to him, the sincerity in his words slowly breaking through your walls. "I just want to feel like I'm enough," you whispered.

Han held you at arm's length, looking into your eyes. "You are more than enough. Your worth isn't defined by how perfect your art or writing is or how you compare to others. It's about the passion and love you put into what you do."

His words resonated with you, and you felt a sense of comfort and reassurance. Han's unwavering support and belief in you made a difference, and you realized that your insecurities didn't define you.

"And I didn't make that song to make you feel better...I made it so you could see just how much inspiration I find from you. Y/N I love you more than anything. So, I was over the moon when I wrote this. And even more elated when I got to use the words the love of my life wrote. That's only the demo..." He grins sheepishly. "I was thinking...it would sound cool if you could leave that poem as a voicemail. I could make it the outro of the song..."

You looked at him with wide eyes. "You mean it?"

"Of course I mean it baby. I mean... I know Stay speculates I'm in a relationship...it's been a year now so I feel like this would be a fun way of confirming that. And I want the world to hear the beautiful voice of my baby." He coos, squishing your cheeks.

You giggle and nod, as Han peppers kisses all over your face.

One evening, as you both sat on the couch, Han handed you a sketchbook he had bought for you. "I got this for you. I want you to fill it with whatever makes you happy. No pressure, just pure creativity. It doesn't even have to be art. Maybe you could write me more poems..."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Thank you, Ji. For everything."

Han wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. "I'm always here for you. And for inspiration. Because you're my inspiration." He says nuzzling his nose against yours.

You leaned into him, feeling a sense of peace and contentment.

His inspiration. You thought.

What an amazing thing to be...

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