#so if i havent tagged you here? fear not your time will come

[antique-forvalaka]

Getting to know you meme

i was tagged by @lena221bee, thank you a lot, and im very sorry about forgetting about it until now... T.T

Favourite time of the year: Autumn! i used to love winter most when i was younger, but there’s something about Autumn. With all those colourful trees, the golden autumn sun hanging low enough in the sky to throw shadows across my bedroom wall, orange leaves dancing in the wind, the smell of rain and wet piles of leaves! aaahhhh :)

Comfort foods: Crepes!

Do you collect anything: Stories! doesnt matter what medium, or general quality, just needs to be a good story! 

Favourite drinks: oh im very boring, i barely drink anything but water. Maybe a good tea now and again.

Favorite music artists: It changes a lot, but currently it’s Bombay Bicycle Club,  草東沒有派對 (No party for Caodong), Reign of Kindo, and Witchcraft

Current favourite songs: Evan Finds The Third Room, Define Me, and  情歌

Favourite fics: oh way too many to name. Though currently I’m obessed with the (ongoing) Qi Ding Gui series, and Halfway Along; i love WIPs.  But usually i have a few per fandom, and a whole subjective rating system :D

Favourite video games: Dishonored!!!!! God, i love the whole series! It is so good!

I tag: @rainsfalling, @chi-chi-chimera, @daswarschonkaputt, @enbymoomin, @owlpockets, @ashinlae​, @fractured-ice, @luckydragon10

additionally i’d also love to tag @mtkay13, but i understand your blog is purely an artblog. so you can enjoy feeling tagged :P

[racew1nn3rs]

─ 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘪𝘪. (𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳) ⛵️

⤷ summary: miami and monaco. just lando being horribly down bad and y/n being at her wits end. poor oscar just can't escape the train wreck that is two losers with feelings and zero (0) emotional competency .

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liked by landonorris, ynusername, and 45,790 others

tagged oscarpiastri and landonorris

mclaren sorry to report that the only good thing about miami was the weather! (and the celebrities)

17,492 comments

user1 it's okay admin, you can say the car was shit

mclaren yeah the car was shit

user2 mclaren team is cursed i fear

mclaren alr where my witch baddies at? please unhex us pls pls pls

user3 uhm!!!????

mclaren desperate times desperate measures and all that jazz

user4 normal people: oh no the car is bad. yn: we're cursed for generations to come ☹️

landonorris i didn't get to meet shakira, what's the point of going on living

mclaren there is none! kys

landonorris oh wow

user5 nahhhh she gettin fired 💀

user6 not a single photo with lando's face 😭

user7 boohoo ☺️ OSCAR FANS, THEY BROKE BUT WE UP ‼️‼️‼️

user6 ok enough

landonorris post me challenge (difficult)

mclaren uh no (: go talk to hr bro we do not careeeeeee

user8 this beef is crazy, yall havent made up yet

user9 DOES ANYONE EVEN KNOW WHY THEYRE BEEFING 😭

oscarpiastri yeah

mclaren hey oscar! great race

oscarpiastri don't ever lie to my face like that again

maxfewtrell gonna build the car myself at this point

user10 i see a podium in our future everyone say thank you max

user11 y/n livestream when 😔

ynusername (;

user11 WHAT DOES THIS MEAN

user12 lando and admin flirting again, who could've guessed

user13 ... she told him to kill himself

user14 the enemies to lovers is enemying 🤩

user13 yeah, it's giving enemies to lovers but no lovers only murder

mclaren truth.

user12 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HWRE

user15 mclaren, fire everyone and hire y/n as the engineer/ strategist/ driver/ pit crew/ pr

mclaren we winning 🥱

oscarpiastri you'd be the only one finishing cause everyone else would die ☝🏻

mclaren shut the fuck up oscar 🙄

user16 flying cars they said 😔

mclaren how the mighty have fallen

user17 WE THE BEST TEAM ON THE GRIDDDD YUHHH

mclaren i'm gonna hold your hand while i say this

user18 it's been 20 years since i've seen my husband 😞 (admin won't post pictures of lando anymore)

mclaren your husband is ugly as fuck

landonorris what the fuck!

mclaren get off your phone loser

user19 full oscar picture when (i'mbeg ging you please i needg it nowe)

mclaren BAD DOG DOWN OMFG

lilyzneimer i would argue you were the best part of miami

mclaren YOU ARE SO FINE YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH BEAUTIFUL GIRL 🤭

oscarpiastri GET AWAY FROM HER YOU FREAK 🤺

user20 y/n being unprofessional on the team page, who's shocked

mclaren and the world kept spinning

user21 we all know who was really shit here (looking at you lando)

mclaren it's not funny when you do it.

landonorris when she defends you 🥴

mclaren i'm telling a trusted adult danielricciardo

danielricciardo what the fuck makes you think i can be trusted

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would you like to join? yes or no

now loading...

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The image flickered onto the screen as the broadcast began. Lando, clothed comfortably in sweats, a cap, and his streaming headphones, looked briefly off camera to where his guests sat waiting to be introduced.

He glanced up at Streamlabs and was shocked to see he had upwards of 30,000 viewers. He had only just started the stream and many people had likely not even gotten the Twitch notification yet. He shook off his shock and plastered on his usual smirk.

Everything is fine. I am totally and completely fine.

"Welcome, welcome. How are you all doing today? There's a lot of people here already. What's the special occasion guys?" He joked, being met with a scoff from the girl to his left.

Everything is not fine at all.

Lando almost never felt nervous when he would stream. After all, he was just playing game with his friends, the chat comments streaming through at a speed he could barely read. Even then, being in Formula One for so long meant he was used to being watched, his every little move being observed nearly constantly since his debut in 2019.

And yet all it took was her presence and suddenly he was nervous. His palms were sweaty, his heart was beating at a mile a minute- honestly you would think he were racing. How could he be expected to be funny and charming when she was here. She never seemed to struggle much in the department. It was almost entirely natural for her. Being perfect was like breathing air to Y/n he suspected.

As he watched the chat messages stream past even quicker on his monitor, he finally caught Oscar's gaze out of the corner of his eye. The younger man quirked a brow at him. What's your problem? His teammate seemed to say. He ignored him. Stupid Oscar and his stupid opinions and his stupid, uncomplicated love life. Lando envied the Australian most days, but now he just wanted to punch him straight in the jaw.

"Alright, it seems like most people are here already, so I'll just get started. I'm sure you're all wondering who my special guests are. The suspense must be killing you surely," He teased his audience. He ignored the completely accurate guesses in his chat.

Was he so predictable that it could be assumed it was either his teammate, Y/n, or Max were his special guests? Or was this a more unfortunate warning sign that he was just plain old boring.

"Seems like most people in chat were smart enough to figure it out! Please give a warm welcome to my guests! The lovely, stunning, awe-inspiring Y/n!" He cheered as the girl groaned, rolling her chair forward so she was behind him and within the frame of the camera.

"Oh and also Oscar's here," Lando added boredly, voice almost entirely monotone. Oscar scoffed loudly and he shot into frame kicking Lando's chair roughly, almost knocking him over and startling a laugh out of the girl behind them.

"Your an asshole mate," Oscar scoffed. Lando didn't hear him. The melodic laughing in his ear from Y/n was quite frankly the only sound his brain could process.

Who knew a laugh could sound so beautiful.

Who knew I could be so god damn embarrassing, Lando thought miserably.

"Guys do you see what I have to put up with!? How I get any shit done around here is a wonder," Y/n scoffed, "Anyways, welcome everybody, this is my stream now." Lando squawked indignantly.

"Excuse you, your in my home!"

"Yeah, unfortunately," she muttered with an eye roll and Oscar laughed.

"You should be grateful! Although these aren't the circumstances I was hoping to have you here under for the first time," Lando said with a completely unsubtle wink.

Y/n grimaced and Oscar doubled over with the force of his laughter.

"Viewers I am so sorry, please leave now, I have no way to muzzle him and apparently I can't sensor him," Y/n scowled.

"I fear he might enjoy that," Oscar muttered with a shake of his head.

Oh you motherfucker, Lando thought. Talk about subtle.

"If it was you, I probably would," Lando said to the girl and she planted her palm into the center of his face and shoved him lightly.

"Oh gross, cooties or STDs or whatever it is you men carry," Y/n shook her hands off and fake gagged.

"EXCUSE ME!" Lando shouted as Oscar nearly fell out of his chair.

"You're excused!"

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Y/n was holding on to her sanity by a thread. Or whatever was smaller than a thread... a hair or something. They had been answering fan questions for nearly 15 minutes already and Lando had decided today would be the day he would do nothing but flirt with her incessantly. He was like a child with a question or dog with a bone; He wouldn't let it the fuck go.

The sound of text-to-speech beginning dragged Y/n out of her thought spiral.

"Lando, what is your favorite video you've ever filmed?" The question asked.

Oh brother, Y/n thought. She looked at Oscar and he only laughed. How helpful.

"Probably the water TikTok challenge," Oscar hummed in agreeance.

"Why?" Y/n asked in confusion. She realized belatedly that asking Lando anything right now was probably a bad idea. She had set herself up this time.

"I don't know, I'm just a personal fan of anything that involves your hands in my hair," He smirked and she rolled her eyes. Her stomach flipped as she looked at his eyes. How could such a stupid, stupid man have such nice eyes (and lips, and teeth, and-).

"Well that's interesting," She smirked back, leaning her body toward him, ignoring the way she was blushing down to her chest. Her ears felt hot. It was hard to focus when she felt like she was burning alive, an unfortunate side effect that seemed to come with the irritating Brit in front of her.

"That was my favorite too," she added and Lando's eyes widened. Oscar looked at her in confusion over Lando's head.

"Really?" Lando asked, suprise clear in his voice. His smirk fell away for only a moment, but it was long enough for Y/n to notice.

Poor little Lando Norris, she thought. A bit too easy to read, this one.

"Yep," she grinned, before letting her face fall. "I'm a big fan of anything that means I can drown you." She responded in a monotone voice. Oscar cackled. The poor guy had hardly been asked any questions. Y/n found she didn't feel too bad anyway. The asshole was enjoying her suffering far too much.

Y/n knew the chat was going wild at their interactions, but she didn't really find herself caring. Maybe this was a bad look from a PR stand point, but then again didn't they always say "any press is good press."

Y/n wondered if the idiots who said that had ever had an inappropriate attraction to their asshole of a coworker, who just so happened to be public figure with fans who were becoming more aware of the tension with every day that interacted.

Probably fucking not.

Y/n watched as Lando's faux upset face cracked into a smile as he began to laugh heartily. She couldn't help but smile. Y/n was finding it hard to hold onto whatever grudge she had before. Maybe Lando Norris and his perfect smile, and his stupid jokes and his charming attitude weren't all that bad. Maybe, just maybe.

But they had absolutely no affect on her. None at all.

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liked by maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, and 38,924 others

tagged landonorris

ynusername monaco post-gp (help me this guy is stalking me i can't get rid of him help hel

11,209 comments

user22 damn he took out my girl mid-sentence 😔

user23 Y/N POSTED LANDO?? AM I DREAMING?? AM I HAVING A STROKE??? OH GOD AM I DEAD

user24 girl calm the fuck down

user25 DOES THIS MEAN THE BEEF IS OVER

ynusername yes! (he has a gun to my head)

user26 LANY/N SHIPPERS WE RISE ONCE MORE

user27 get it together, they've posted together ONCE

user28 is lany/n in the room with us

user29 "lando and y/n getting along isn't real, it can't hurt you!" OH REALLY

landonorris i had other plans but i cancelled them to be your tour guide, you're welcome

ynusername me when i fucking lie

oscarpiastri do my eyes decieve me

ynusername shut up oscar

landonorris yeah shut up oscar

user30 couples that fight their friend together, stay together

ynusername i can and will block you 😃

user30 oh.

oscarpiastri no it's fine i didn't want to be invited

oscarpiastri i totally hate the ocean, it's not like i surf or anything

oscarpiastri looks boring, would've hated to go on a boat

landonorris other than the fact that i lost my flip flop in the ocean, it was fun i guess

user31 good job lando this came off exactly as nonchalant as you hoped king

ynusername HAHA LOSER YOU LOST YOUR SHOE

oscarpiastri I LOST SOMETHING ONCE 😞

user32 close enough, welcome back brocedes

ynusername literally what is the correlation here

user32 idk leave me alone

user33 um so this is actually insane

user34 i screamed so loud my neighbors called the cops because they thought i was being murdered

user35 can you be normal

user36 this might be the first original experience

user35 no, not original, just embarrassing

user37 i want to be excited about this but it feels so sinister

ynusername good, it should be

maxfewtrell never in my 23 years of living could i have expected this (lando messaged me to tell me what he was doing today)

user38 posting a comment is optional

maxfewtrell i have fomo, can i live

user39 lany/n shippers all around the world cheered

user40 oh you different friend!

user41 onto something ❌ on something ✅

user42 and the crowd is... the crowd is leaving??

user43 my crew lets go

user44 "war is over" we all say in unison

oscarpiastri not likely 💀

user23 HELLO OMFHADFSLJ

danielricciardo oh so you can hang out with him in monaco but not with me

ynusername sorry babygirl 😔 i didn't mean to abandon you

danielricciardo ew never fucking mind

maxverstappen1 i live in monaco too! hope this helps

ynusername i knew that already! hope this helps

maxverstappen1 oh.

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ynusername posted to story!

(caption: he won't leave me alone, this is sick)

17,822 replies

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landonorris posted to story!

(caption: she's trying to convince me it's cold out... girl no it is not)

24,006 replies

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I AM SOOOOO SORRY THIS TOOK 5 MILLION YEARS TO BE UPDATED!! i am hoping to be more consistent moving forward, but my schedule is a bit of a mess with school. hopefully i'll be able to get some requests fulfilled soon as well though!

most importantly, thank you so much for all the love and support on this fic!! the amount of comments, asks, and dms asking about updates was staggering and it makes me so happy that you all like to so much (: receiving such positive feedback for this fic has honestly rejuvenated my love for writing so much, and i can't express how much the support means to me.

please keep leaving comments and dms with your thoughts, i love reading them <3 hope u enjoyed!

-

𝙩𝙖𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

@lemon-lav @slutforpopculture @m4rt10ne @urfavsgf @sadsierra2 @96jnie @sltwins @poppyflower-22 @alliumiae @livelovesports @liberty-barnes @the-holy-trinity-l @iliwyss @awritingtree @redpool @elliotts1one @velentine @chaoticmessneutralplease @5sospenguinqueen @charizznorizz @2pagenumb @mxdi0 @cwiphswmwasohmm @tremendousstarlighttragedy @lnspipedrm @itseightbeats @tinycoffeeroom @woozarts @personwhoisther @a-beaverhausen @love-simon @annabellelee @ravisinghs-wife @chezmardybum @greantii @weekendlusting @monserelates @sapphiccloud @halleest @deamus-liv @gigigreens @morenofilm @laneyspaulding19 @lanireadss @dear-fifi @moldyshorts1997 @oliviarodrigostan13 @eugene-emt-roe @ilivbullyingjeongin @im-a-ghost666

[softspace-fics]

Hi, absolutely no pressure to write anything, but would you be willing to write an agere fic/ oneshot ft. Caregiver Quill from the MCU with a little reader, preferably his daughter/kid if you wanna keep it gender neutral. Maybe something about him comforting them after they have a bad dream about him going away again post Infinity War, making them a bottle and/or rocking them with comforting words? Maybe reader is between 2-4? Aaa unsure if this is good or not, could you tag @quillcore in it so I don’t miss it if you do? Again absolutely no pressure!! Its just so hard to find content about my dad :’) thank you in advance if you do,,

Never gone.

A/N - Yes!! I love Quill! I suck with dialog because I'm not super used to writing it, but I tried! Also, Im not sure what preferred caregiver name or nickname you wanted but I did my best ^.^

Masterlist - All my work!

Warnings ⚠️: Mentions of death, yelling, panic attack, carrying, fluff, use of fem pronouns and nicknames, side characters of Steve Rogers and Tony Stark.

Papa!Peter Quill x Little!Fem reader

_______

"We don't know if he's going to be back pumpkin. We aren't even sure what happened. You'll have to stay here in the tower until everything finally settles" Steve calmly reminds you, after you ask for your papa for the millionth time.

Your papa had gone missing almost 6 months ago, and all uncle steve could tell you was that he just.. poofed?

"It doesn't matter anymore Steve. They aren't coming back. Lying to the kid won't help!" Tonys booming voice suddenly came through the closed door that him and Steve were currently in.

"She doesnt understand what's going on. I refuse to-" Steves voice suddenly went too quiet to hear.

You slowly crawl to the door, sitting right by it, trying to hear through the solid wood.

"For all we know they could be dead. Giving her false hope will end up causing more problems when she eventually find out." Tony's stern voice pierced your ears as much as it did your heart.

"Papa dead?" You slowly whisper out, your breath getting stuck in your throat as tears brimmed in your eyes.

Steve stormed out to the living room, and immediately saw the tears streaming down your face and crouched in front of you, worry that you overheard, coursing through his veins.

"Hey hey, Y/N, what's wrong?"

"Dead? He dead?" You look at Steve with nothing but agony and fear, your voice strained.

His look of disappointment and his eyes filling with fear of your reaction tells you everything you need.

"Nonono not Papa! Papa! No! No-"

"Sweetheart!" Quills gentle yet firm voice shakes you out of your awful dream. You look around your surroundings before throwing your arms around your papa, sobbing.

"Shh, shh. It's okay, it's all over. I'm alive. Your safe." Quill gently runs his hands through your hair, softly rocking you, helping you to get through another nightmare.

The day you found out he had been blipped, was the day your world fell apart. After finally getting him back a year ago, you still havent recovered from the 5 years without him.

Quill gently picks you up, walking around your apartment, whispering gentle praises and comforting words.

When you finally peak out of his neck, your face swollen and puffy from crying, your eyes full of fear and worry. Worry that you could be imaginating his smell, that everything you see could be a lie.

"Sweetheart, i'm back, permanently. Theres nothing that could take me from you ever again." Your papa gently reassures you.

When he came back and they defeated Thanos (Or the big bad purple guy), he stepped away from being a fighter, and part of the squad that would go on missions. He would still help from on base, but he would spend most of his time with you.

Quill softly bounces you as he walks to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle, and quickly heating it up to your favorite temp.

Its around the time the bottles in your lips and his soft singing fills your ears that you realize this isnt a dream. Your able to comprehend that your papa wasnt dead. He was still here to love you even if that meant that when you thought he was gone, he had to remind you he would always come back for you.

He walks around the living room calming you downa s you finish off your bottle, and the sun starts to peak through the blinds.

Quill softly sets the now empty bottle down on the coffee table and walks back to his room, holding you closely to his chest.

He lays down with you in his arms, softly kissing your nose, and telling you a story of his time in the guardians. How your uncle rocket was just the silliest friend, even if your Papa got annoyed by the little trash panda at times.

"Papa?" You tiredly ask.

"Yes, Sweetheart?" He softly replies.

"No gone?"

"No gorgeous. Papas not gone. Never gone from you."

______

Tags:

@quillcore

[withonly-sweetheart]

Threads of Carmine Red

They split your heart into two and the sticky sweet threads that hang between them only bring you closer to your doom. Can you every truly choose your fate? Or will it always be in their silky hands...?

a/n: ok erm so uh like well uh <- thats it. bye! characters are more expanded on in the endings because i cant do shit for shit. i fear.

heh now its time for credits

@candlekiss - MARI WHY'D YOU INSPIRE LIKE ALL OF THESE <3 but it was ur study of the scrapped character design of re8 ada that inspired this wildly massively changed sequence of events. LOVE YOU EITHER WAY POOKIE <3

@pxs-onthehunt - sorry for tagging you but your ada vampire art actually had me tweaking so hard... its kinda what inspired ada's personality throughout this... uh... thank you for your service <3

@vampiricgf <- kita tysm for helping with the atmosphere im still mindblown how your small piece of advice came SUCH a long way and i hope i've conveyed this right (probably havent sigh)

@eyesofsix - ur uhm aeon vampire art... harshi sent that to me because she was freaking out over it and i saw it and also freaked out and we danced in a freaking out circle together. your art is bringing people closer (together). <- stop the freaky jokes need to stop. BUT

(psst. if i didnt mention u in this one artist moots TRUST you're definitely in one of the other three.)

tw: descriptions of blood? ig? idfk something like that and then idek what this is man you just gotta read it ig (can you tell im off today THE OPPS HAVE WON SADLY)

wc: 2.2k

You don’t know where you’re going, but you do know that her eyes are following you. Tracking you, searing your back with their presence, origin unknown. You can confirm it is indeed a “her” watching you when that sultry voice finally appears from the shadows.

“Are you lost, little girl?” she muses, confident in a way you can’t quite explain. You try your best to be bold and lift your chin, surveying your surroundings in an unfavorable attempt to find her. “Ah, you won’t see me unless I want you to.”

“Do you know where I am?” you demand. “Can you get me out of here?”

“Ouch.” You can imagine a pout, yet no face to place it with. A simple expression with no master behind it, crimson lips twisted down. “Leaving so soon?”

“Yes,” you grit out. “I need to get back. Where the hell am I?”

“Can’t you tell?”

You glare out into the retreating light that only seems to twitch from your grasp as you near. A fretful game of tag that’ll never end, you fear. With a frown puckering your eyebrows, you glance upward, yet no flash of lightning comes through the night-ridden windows, useless in your pursuit. Only a flash of white-hot fear that surges through your blood.

A door creaks open somewhere to your left. You know better than to trust mysterious voices from the dark, but guidance is scarce in a place like this. At least you assume your location to be applicable to those terms, foolishly, perhaps.

“Go ahead,” she coaxes softly. “I’m simply helping you.”

Perhaps if there were light, you could’ve seen that she was trailing you the entire time, never more than a few steps away, itching to get her hands on you yet shoving that instinct into a box in her mind, a box known as patience.

You might’ve also noticed the pointed edges of her teeth when she grins as you stupidly stumble into the door, feeling around for the knob, and she waits with her hands clasped behind her back before you trip past something into the room.

And you miss her silently closing the door behind you.

There’s light in this room, thankfully, a dim light that only sparks to life after you take another few steps. A lantern tosses shadows in your face, painting the room in dramatic proportions, making the small area seem larger than life.

“Hello?” you call out, timidly. “Is anyone there?”

You shut your mouth immediately as soon as there’s yet another high pitched squeal from the floorboards, unable to support your weight as well as you’d like, and something splinters behind you. 

Spinning around to find nothing there throws you off balance, and you manage to get your foot stuck in the broken wood. You make the mistake of reaching down, kneeling and pawing at your foot, which leaves you with minor scratches on your now free foot.

It comes with the cost of blood welling up, tears of your skin gushing from a painful gash that somehow goes unnoticed in the first few seconds of shock before you scream. Then you slam your uninjured hand back over your mouth, trying not to scowl at yourself, biting at the knuckle in a silly attempt to cancel out the pain.

It doesn’t work. If anything, it seems your efforts have all been in vain. A weak kick is delivered to your neck, and you sway to the side lightly. There’s an unimpressed growl from behind you, just before something strikes the same area at least ten times harder, and your vision goes dark, fading from your sideways slant of the room.

<><><><>

“Stop moving,” a voice hums in your ear. It seems too sudden for you, jerking back to life like a monster, flailing and thrashing your limbs. You’re bound with something, rope, maybe, but the state of panic sends adrenaline rushing to your head.

“It’s like she does the opposite of whatever you say,” that same sultry voice remarks, albeit from a distance, which doesn’t scare you as much as the presence looming over your shoulder.

“Relax,” it muses, too quiet to determine whether it’s male or female, too subtle to know the differences. Your calf burns, as if your wound has magically gotten larger, spreading over the expanse of bare skin where your pants are rolled up.

You blink and still at the feather light touch of calloused fingertips tracing up your arm, drawing the silhouette of your body, yet the feeling is almost… otherworldly.

“What…” you sputter, an unwelcome shudder rippling through your body. “What are you?”

“What are you,” the woman combats, “if not a creature of Earth?”

They remain pure voices, the harmony of male and female in perfect vocals that may as well be songs themselves, yet the pure chill of fear thrums alongside your searing blood, at every subtle touch unwillingly placed onto your skin.

“Just let me go, please,” you plead, just short of convincing. A string inside you unravels, tugging you back towards them, an unprecedented attraction that could try to coil back up, spin back into a shape in your body, but it reaches for them.

You imagine a well trimmed finger, sharp nails glinting in the darkness, source of light unknown, curling around that thread, a leash for a disobedient dog.

“Aren’t you just that?” she muses. “A sweet little puppy? A human plaything for the society that has existed long before you were even a thought in your ancestors’ flimsy minds. They were no smarter than you, it seems.”

You nod in compliance, feeling yourself slip further and further away, stretching your legs in an attempt to swim through the murky liquid you feel yourself sinking into, trying to reach for the glowing spool, the source of all your turmoil, but it fades within the violent waves.

“She will suffice,” another voice huffs out, the one with the ghastly touch. “Prepare her.”

“Why should it be me?” she scoffs. “You’ve gotten your hands dirty, do it yourself.”

Uh oh. Looks like Mom and Dad are fighting.

<><><><>

The next time you find yourself, it takes what seems like hours to trudge through the inky, vast darkness threatening to swallow you whole. But you see your soul sparkling, woven in as gems of memories within the thin line, glowing so intensely you fear you might burn yourself upon touching it.

But your fingers graze the raised material and you immediately sit upright, eyes blown open as you force yourself to take steady breaths, trying to readjust to the feeling of being in control of your own body.

What had really happened back there? She was the puppeteer to your mindless actions, unable to change the course of events from your glass bubble, restricting your air, trying to erase all evidence of you. You wonder who the mysterious, sultry woman is.

“Thank you.” The same voice calls out, this time from the only patch of darkness available in the well-lit room, morning sun casting warmth onto your cheek as you crane your neck up to catch a glance of the woman.

Narrow eyes peer back at you, and the light in the room shifts quickly enough for you to acknowledge her eerily pale skin, tinted lips the only pop of color in her otherwise drab outfit, a black cloak with crimson accents splashed here and there.

Only when she drops from the ceiling do you realize that they aren’t accents at all. Splotches of dried blood, you see more closely as she approaches, and you scramble back on the mattress you’ve been placed on, only to have your back meet the wall in a most unpleasant manner.

“Don’t worry,” she says with a chuckle. “I won’t hurt you.”

You resist the urge to furrow your eyebrows, fearing that she might take it as a sign of disrespect and pounce. How often do you see vampires? Trick question, the answer is never. You’re not prepared in the slightest, yet you can’t deny the awe that quickly fills you.

Awe at her appearance. If you hadn’t seen the blood, you wouldn’t have even begun to suspect she’s a blood sucking demon, and even now you find yourself doubting the very idea. How could someone so nice be evil?

“I… apologize if I came off strange earlier,” she says with a smile that curves her teeth, and you fight to discern her teeth from her fangs, almost undetectable if you weren’t hanging off your seat and biting your nails in anticipation of them. “You must understand our hesitations to accept a new member.”

“A… new… member?” You test out each word slower than the last, and you feel like you’re back in primary school with a teacher, bless her, patient enough to guide you through it.

“It’s been millennia since a human has met our qualifications. When Leon scouted you, I knew-”

“Leon?” you interrupt. Irritation sparks in her eyes, previously warm, melted honey freezing up quickly. “He’s the guy who was following me here!”

“Yes, but-”

“And he was the one who tied me up!” you say with a gasp. “So who are you?”

“It looks like you’re more interested in talking than listening.” The woman - or should you say vampire? -  curls her lip and you can’t tell if it’s in distaste or carefully placed amusement. It feels like you’re tiptoeing on ice, cracks reverberating through the room, devastating enough to bring the entire building down.

“Sorry.”

“Hm.” She lifts her nose, somewhat haughtily. “You’re quite gullible, aren’t you?”

“Better fix that soon, ma’am,” a voice replied sarcastically from the doorway. Ada shifts her figure so you can see who, but of course, their identity becomes quickly hidden with the light playing on their face, shadows from their cloak hood dapping the planes of their face.

“I’d think twice about talking down to me, Leon,” she replies suavely, a smile coaxing her lips into emotion. “She already knows.”

You swear you can hear his teeth gnash against each other. “That was my job, Ada.”

“Your one job,” she teases, eyes flitting down to you with a subtle wink before turning to face him with an all too important look, “and I beat you to it.”

“Ada,” you test out quietly. Even the name sounds foreign, a medley of arcane qualities and inscrutable judgment. 

"Tell me then," Leon says in a low voice, stepping further into the room. You press back into the plush mattress, sensing the tension mounting between them. "What exactly have you told our guest?" 

"Only that which she deserves to know," Ada replies coyly.

"Which is?"

She levels him an unimpressed stare. "Patience. All will be explained in due time." 

Leon shoots you a glance, lips thin. "How have you found our hospitality so far? Comfortable?"

You nod hesitantly, eyeing the door behind him. "Very kind of you all, though the circumstances of my arrival were... unconventional."

Ada offers a soft chuckle. "Leon lacks finesse, perhaps true. But fear not - harm will not come to you here." Her reassurance does little to do any of its intended purpose. Part of you longs to trust her gentle words and curious gaze, yet Leon's wariness makes you wonder what other truths lie beneath the surface. 

"I understand you must have questions," Ada continues. "Please, ask what you will. An open exchange benefits us all."

You hesitate, darting knowing looks between them. Leon's intense glare conveys he wishes to avoid certain subjects.

"If I may... what exactly are you going to do to me?"

Ada’s enigmatic smile vanishes. Leon scoffs.

“I thought you informed her of her purpose, Ada,” he says, her name coming out of his mouth laced with venom, the same that swirls through your mind as their gazes bore into your mind.

And for the first time since you’ve seen him, Leon grins.

“You are going to become one of us.”

You blink, the words becoming garbled with all the background noise fresh in your mind, coarse tongue lead weight in your mouth, running your teeth over chapped lips.

“And now, we play a little game,” Ada says, although reluctantly, as if suddenly her eagerness has been replaced with the grim truth. “You must pick.”

“Pick… what?”

“One of us,” Leon says, stepping forward. “One of us will grant you freedom; you’ll wake up safe in your home, with no recollection of this incident.”

“Yet the other will lead you to our cause, the same fate that befell us.” Ada’s face has gone stony, giving no hints of which path she leads. “You will join us. This is less of a game, and more a test of your judgment. Choose wisely.”

They unfurl their hands like broken angels, reaching down from you in an inverted version of heaven, more reaching up from hell, but you can’t say that, now can you? Neither of them are trustworthy enough, so you quickly make a decision. 

And you reach for…

ADA?

or

LEON?

[softpascalito]

javier peña x f!dea!reader - we got your back.

Summary: You work as a new DEA agent alongside Peña and Murphy. A not-so-kind colleague reveals more about you than you would like. Protectiveness and fluff ensues.

aka

my friend wrote me some hurt/comfort headcanons and i turned them into a small something :)

Relationships: Javier Peña x FemReader (can be read as romantic or platonic)

WC: ~4200

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mention of Canon-Typical Violence, No beta we die like Colonel Carrillo, Family Issues, They arent specified but reader is implied to be from a dysfunctional family, Steve is here too

AO3 LINK // PART 2 // PART 3 (on tumblr)

Notes:

hello!

there is a mention of the readers dysfunctional family in this story. if you relate to that in any way, please always remember that you are worthy of healthy love. it exists. seek help or advice if you need it. toxic environments arent forever. if you need to talk, my inbox is always open.

i havent written anything in a while and english is not my first language so please be kind and leave a comment if you like it &lt;3 _______________________________

Chapter 1

You had been in Bogotá for less than three months and while the past weeks had been filled with too little sleep, too much coffee and the daily fear of being targeted by a sicario , you had developed somewhat of a routine in the new environment. This was in large parts due to work at the Embassy. With Bogotá traffic being, well, Bogotá traffic, there'd been several days where you'd just bunked down on your office floor instead of going home to your bed which eventually had led to both Javier and Steve and now you always keeping a spare pillow and blanket around the office to make it slightly more comfortable. The most homey part about the Embassy however, were the people. Not just the two agents you were assigned to assist, hell, not even just the DEA department. Everyone helped each other out wherever they could. Being a gringo in Colombia with a drug lord promising a nice sum of money for your head was impossible to bear by yourself. And only almost impossible to bear with a bunch of people who were in the same position as you. You got along with almost everyone at the embassy. Almost everyone . The harsh contrast to your other, kind colleagues was a DEA secretary: Raquel Vázquez. She had been throwing obstacles and hateful glances your way as soon as you had arrived. You weren't even sure why she hated you so much. She was the wife of another agent and as spouses were not allowed to work anywhere but the embassy, she was stuck with her desk job, spending the day signing off letters, faxing intel to Washington and her favorite pass-time: taunt you for whatever she could come up with. “Hey, are you even listening?” Steve is crouched down in front of your desk and waving his hand through your line of sight, trying to grab your attention. Almost immediately there is a dramatic, loud sigh from the other side of the room:” How do you expect her to function on a job like this if she can't even manage to function within her own family?” Raquel snaps before rolling her eyes and pretending to look at the documents in front of her. Your head practically whips around as your brain processes what she just said. How the hell does that bitch know about your family situation? “I- I need to get a refill,” you mumble as you get up abruptly and grab your coffee mug, your old chair screeching as it is pushed back. Suddenly you're feeling a lot smaller as you navigate your way through the desks and flee to the small kitchen down the hall. You almost collide with Javier, who is just getting back from a meeting. You squeeze past him, not even giving him a chance to tease you. If one more person gets on your nerves, you are surely going to cry and you do not need that in front of your colleagues. Least of all in front of Raquel.

“Is everything alright with her?” Javier asks as he walks over to Steve, who is still kneeling in front of your desk and staring at the doorway you just left through. He slowly stands up and turns his attention towards the secretary, casually leaning over your now abandoned desk with crossed arms as his angry gaze bores into Raquel's skull. His eyes not leaving her, he turns towards Javi:” Do you know Y/N's family?” He asks bluntly. Javier seems somewhat taken aback by the question. He ponders for a few moments, his furrowed eyebrows forming a deep line on his forehead as he slowly shakes his head:'' I don't think she's ever mentioned them. Didn't come up. Why?” Steve's gaze is still on the secretary, knowing that she is listening in to every and each of their words:” Raquel mentioned them.” He raises his voice slightly:” How did you put it? Dysfunctional ?” Javi clenches his jaw as he turns to the woman as well. With a few quick strides, he approaches her desk and almost slams his hands down on it.

“Señora Vázquez.” His voice is barely more than an angry, deep grumble. The woman jumps slightly as she looks up at him as he towers over her. Before she can even open her mouth, he continues:” Don't you think the higher ups would be interested in the fact that you prioritize the private life of your coworkers over your actual work?” At the implication of his words, a panicked look appears on Raquel's features:” I don't know what you're talking about.” Giving her a warning look, Javier turns on his heels and follows you, muttering a “gonorrea de fea” under his breath.

You are standing in the small kitchen space, your elbows resting on the counter as you hold your head in your hands. The empty cup that had served as your makeshift alibi is standing next to you, forgotten. You hear the footsteps just in time to scramble back up and clutch the empty mug in your hands as you try and put on a nonchalant face. Judging by the way Javier is looking at you, you're not doing a very good job. He has been leaning against the doorframe and is now slowly stepping towards you:” I didn't mean to startle you.” You notice he has activated what Steve and you always call his “puppy face”. There is a softness in his brown eyes that you know is reserved for those closest to him as he leans against the counter next to you. “I- It's fine I just …” You stumble over your own words, too upset to find a quick excuse for your behavior and lie to him. The truth is, you're not entirely sure you want to lie to him. Not when he is standing so close to you, looking at you with that stupid, heart-melting look in his eyes. “I heard about what happened,” Javi interrupts your rather unsuccessful attempt at explaining yourself. So whatever excuse you have ready, I don't need to hear it.

He gently reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before stepping closer and taking the empty mug out of your hands. He notices that it's empty. He doesn't mention it. Instead, he reaches around you to place it on the counter before gently pulling you into his embrace. Javier isn't really a hugging person. Hell, you aren't either. But he holds you close, gently stroking your back and you feel whatever resolve you had left about allowing him to comfort you evaporating into thin air.

“You know Steve and I always got your back, right?” He mumbles, his voice low. You can feel his lips on your forehead as he ever so gently places a small kiss on it. You know he is expecting an answer but you feel as if opening your mouth will also open the floodgates so you simply nod your head. He sighs softly:” Good, good. I also want you to know that if you need someone, you can come to me anytime. Day, night, fucking lunchbreak, I dont care.”

Leaning back just enough so he can see you, Javi gently lifts your chin up with his hand, forcing you to lock eyes with him to make sure you can see that he actually means his words.

“I'm here for you, cariño and I'm not going anywhere, okay?”

“Yeah,” you manage to breathe out, your heart bursting with love and appreciation for the man in front of you. Smiling, satisfied, Javier presses another small kiss to your temple before letting go of you to pour you a new coffee. He adds a large splash of milk, just as you like it and insists on carrying it back to your desk for you. As you make your way through the hallway, just before you walk through the large door that leads into the DEA office, he stops in his tracks, turning to you with a smirk on his face.

“You also know that I'll put everything into getting Raquel fired if she ever bothers you again, don't you?” A laugh escapes you before you can help it and you gently nudge him to go on:” Im counting on it.”

You could swear it's the biggest grin you've ever seen on his face. _________________________________

thank you for reading, you lovely people. and a huge thank you to my friend hannah who wrote me the headcanons that i made into this small story. she is the true genius behind it and an absolutely amazing person, ily <3 comments or feedback are always very appreciated and truly make my day <3

[thithesandofferings]

Title: The Be-comings of Ardor

Summary: You win the Demon Kure Raian as a prize. Now its up to you to get you to acknowledge him.

Pairing: Raian x Reader

AN: To be very honest, I just wanted something to write. Based of the excerpt from here . I wanted to write a slow burn Raian x Reader but...i didnt know the plot so uhm...you get him as a demon... Also this fandom isnt as big so really 8 people could read it and id be fine.

Tags: Descriptions of violence. Slow...slow burn. Eventual smut. Multi-chaptered. Nothing too crazy. I havent decided if I wanted to get any crazier lol. Honestly this is just an excuse to learn how to write descriptively so please bare with me.

Part 2

Part 3

You are drenched when you are told about your prize . You don't have time to dwell on past lives sticking and caving into your skin. Becoming an uninvited home in your nails. Teeth aching from the minute grinding of bone. Gums stained sticky with blood that isn't yours. Acrid air pours through your lashes as you try to blink through the chaos staining the marrow of your skull. There is an in-depth ignorance when you stand on your enemies. Your hunger docile only by the swaths of meat you have taken. Pealing and rotting underneath your tongue. You can taste their rage and despair. It feels like condemnation.

The Kure family is filled with demons. Gifting you a malevolent spirit for your victorious slaughter is an inconsequential choice. An ancestor long since passed. Has been alive since the world had begun to form. You do not dwell much on it. Empty... Distant and unsure of who you are at the present. Wondering if the sands at your feet have packed your soul away too.

They tell you with unsteady hands and sympathetic looks that "no one has ever been able to handle him properly." Glee tugs at simpered lips when they whisper that you will surely die if you cannot handle it.

It. Primordial. Eldritch almost in nature. The demon has ruthlessly taken countless. Sharpening its tongue with hollowed bones for the sake of good weather. They produce photos of him. The clans black eyes shimmer with thoughts of humiliation and desire to ruin when they show you their past relative. He's a God in their roving eyes. To finally ascend is a gift to them. You are driven by an instinctual tug to move when you do see the creature. He was a beast even in his former life. Hulking mass with a propensity to maim and kill.

Contempt licks up the path of your skin at the thought of fearing him. You are greeted immediately with an unbecoming emotion that impales you. Greed. A snarling voice unlike your own, claws through your numbing brain. He is yours. Your honor cannot be tampered when you think about the battles you fought and won to earn him. A cruel heat scatters your skin and you think briefly that it may be possession. You shrug it off as an afterthought.

You have always known that gluttony and greed ring soundly in your blood. Now is not the time to dwell on ideas and dreams.

The grim faces of men circle you in the centerfold to perform the ritual, bringing the archaic demon. You have killed enough men to honor its terms. The air is stale with apprehension and slighted fear. You have to prove that you're worthy, even after all the lives strayed across the sand. If you are not, then your life- and the men around you, will end.

You've never been much afraid of death.

The whispers bring forth laden wind. Wet and dense, petrichor aching to dig its teeth into your skin. There is an unnatural silence once the mutters of ancient tongue cease. Crickets noises snuffed out with the unease of the earth as it waits.

Your body knows the moment he is there. The heat almost searing at the back of your neck when he stands behind you. His massive frame slicing through the permeable silence as you hear the shuffling of the men almost forgotten. Your eyes are closed and yet you can still almost taste the ephemeral life that is behind you. The age weighs heavy on your bones. Ancient. Like they said. Inhuman in a way that makes you think that your future is just to be leftovers for him. His frame claws at you. Shadows peeling across your skin, scalding and feverish, beckoning you to turn around.

You are not one to back down from a challenge.

He takes the form of a human. Flinty, barely holding his power into the meat suit he prostrates himself in. He's the biggest thing you have ever seen in your life. Muscles fight for space, veins bulge and quake proudly. His strength carries him as he strides towards you in slow, decadents steps. Hulking in mass. He is a monster. Teeth sharpened with sharpened glee. Lips spread too wide for it to be comfortable. Skin peeling on the corners, blood tunneling to the front. There is madness in the poisoned whites of his eyes. Black ink devouring you, crumbling your resolve when you look at him. They're like nothing you've ever seen before. Archaic, unnatural- predatory when he accesses you. An ancestral look you know all too well, the look of suddenly finding prey. Gravity finds a way into the black holes that suffocates his gaze. It makes your knees tremble. You are not ready to discuss why it is not fear that echoes and tracks the shivers in your hands.

He is so close that you smell him. Ashen and bloodied earth clog your senses and you have to quickly blink away the tears from the strength of it. It mellows your brain, cleaning the abject cobwebs littered across.

You're distracted enough that you cant run from the grip he has on your wrist. Pinching and crunching the already bruised flesh, you know he is assessing you. His stare burning and muted, you feel like an insect.

His manic gaze suddenly cools, air becoming increasingly stale and scarce. He lets go off your wrist, throws it more like, and begins to walk toward the people you had briefly forgotten existed.

"Raian, we are so glad that-" There is a choked and horrid crack as you hear the mans body falls listlessly to the ground.

"Shut up and find me something to eat before I decide its going to be you." There is a stalled millisecond of silence before the group shuffles away with their ancestor in front.

The one who never looks back at you again.

Your so called prize no longer even acknowledges you.

The ache of death and fear permeates your bones. Muted until now, it is time for you to go home. A small smile cracking the edge of your lips.

[liyawritesss]

Hi! Hope you having a great day, do you still taking Arcane request. If so can you do a Ekko x GN reader where the two of them having really bad fight then the reader said they should take a break of this relationship and left the Firelight place. Didn't come back for a while. Both of them regret that decision but they too stubborn to said it.

It's been a week since that fight, the reader was a mechanic. They trying to fix something for a friend but ran out of things to fix, so the reader go out to find some supply. At that time the firelight was out fighting Silco's people, At first the reader choose to ignored but notice Ekko got injured from one of the guys that when the reader run out to help Ekko and the firelight beating those bad guys.

After a while helping Ekko get back to the try to make the wound better. The reader about to leave, returning to their work place. But Ekko pulling back, want to make up the fight before and didn't want their relationship to end like that. The reader apologize about that fight and they make up!

(You can make it a little drama like having a boy or girl got too comfy with Ekko or not your choice! Angst at the beginning then fluff in the end and sorry if my grammar bad, English isn't my first language)

ꜱʜᴇ ɪꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴏʀᴛʜ ɪᴛ, ᴅᴀʀʟɪɴɢ; ꜱʜᴇ'ꜱ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ

Pairing: Arcane!Ekko x Black!Fem!Firelight!Reader

Type: Fic

Word Count: 5.0k

Synopsis: When a minor mistake leads a stakeout mission astray, Ekko’s choice of words has you wondering where his emotions for you lie. It becomes apparent that even after seven years, the toic of discussion is one that still cuts deep for the both of you.

Warnings: cursing, show-accurate violence, mentions of drugs and drug-use (shimmer), mentions of guns & explosions, mentions of injuries

A/N: havent written for my man in a hot minute so thank you for this request! Absolutely adore Ekko, and while I think this could be way better, i know if I mess with it it wont be as good as I want it to be lmao. Sooooo here it is, hope you enjoy! Song Inspiration: “Devil Doesn’t Bargain”, “Boy in the Bubble”, and “Let Me Down Slowly” by Alec Benjamin, “lovely” by Billie Eilish ft. Khalid, “Broken Clocks” by SZA, “like that” by Bea Miller

Tags: @writingintheshadowsforever @mbakuetshurisprincess @verachii @cafehyunji @lulu-network @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @vander-affectionate @evermorewest

Sign Up For My Taglist Here!

The air that surrounded the Firelight soldiers as the squad returned to the hideout could be described as something akin to tension.

It was heavy, weighing on the soldiers shoulders as the squad of five hung their battle wear and accessories in their respective cubbies for housing. No one dared to speak, for fear that the unbridled temper that was thinly veiled by their leader’s quiet demeanor would be unleashed if a word was spoken into the unanimously agreed upon silence.

It was thick, evident in the way the squad members pushed through the hot and sticky summer air to hang their belongings. The hesitance slowed their movements, careful not to cause any abrupt disturbances in the carefully crafted momentum that would guarantee the three other squad members precise escape from the gear room and into the open clearing of the sanctuary, where although the air was still blazing hot, it was better to breathe than the air inside, looming with hostility.

Three would find their escapes successful, returning to their individual rooms to release the stress that had settled in their muscles from the night's events. And although they had escaped the worst of it, something still lingered in their stomachs as the distance between them and the last two remaining squad members in the gear room grew.

It wasn’t just tension. It was apprehension.

White locs were dirtied with gunpowder and sweat, a thin layer of it also coating his dark cacao skin. A deep frown makes its way onto the leader’s face, frown lines prominent on his forehead, thick nose scrunched in vexation. He leaned against a nearby table, arms swollen and toned with muscle folded across his chest as he stared at the woman before him. He was trying to calm himself, formulate the words he would say in a way that wouldn’t be regrettable, but as the events of the night continued to replay in his mind, he found his efforts nugatory.

It wasn’t just tension; it was apprehension.

He watched the woman before him take her precious time in putting up her gear. She wasn’t ignorant to the tension in the room. She wasn’t ignorant, but she knew the cause of it. She knew the reason why she was taking her time in stripping off her coat, making sure it hung on the right hook by the right tag. She knew the reason behind taking extra care in extracting her mask from her face, placing the facial ornament flat onto the floor of the cubby. She knew the reason why she was taking extra care in removing her gloves instead of ripping them off like normal.

It wasn’t just tension.

It was apprehension.

“So,” the leader’s voice echoes out into the room, the first vocal sound to do so outside of the rustle of clothing against wood and clacking of the same material against the frame of the cubby made from metal. His voice  was deep, laced with madden, restrained, “wanna talk about what the fuck that was out there?”

“Nothing,” you responded, short and curt. You were biting your tongue, the both of you knew it. You were restraining yourself just as much as he was, “it was nothing-”

“Bullshit,” the white haired boy interjects, “you don’t do shit like that and call it ‘nothing’, (Y/N).”

He could see your jaw flexing, attempting to keep your mouth closed and your resolve intact as you stored away your last glove, closing the cubby door, all without looking at him. 

“I’m not doing this with you.” You firmly announce. Your pair of feet that had been stuck in the same position finally followed your will to move as you turned to the doorway, preparing to leave the room.

“You don’t have a choice, Captain!”

His voice is booming, thunderous like a God, and it commands you to halt your movements. The use of your title makes you grit your teeth, a tight breath slipping past your lips in a gamble for reclaiming your composure.

The leader pushes himself from his leaning position, standing firmly on his own two feet, hands coming together in a prayer motion in front of his face to stifle the agitation in his voice he was sure to let slip.

“We had a plan,” he says securely, though ironic in the current situation, “we had a plan to track movement. We had a plan to solely track that shipment; why the fuck did you divert from the plan?”

This wasn’t just tension; it was apprehension.

“The fuck do you want me to say, Ekko?” You seeth through gritted teeth, slowly but surely turning to face the boy behind you. “What the fuck is there to say?”

There’s an intensity in the air that comes from the severity of the situation at hand. Both of you restraining yourselves from enacting a yelling match, attempting to prevent the inevitable; trying to remain civil for each other’s sakes. Because if anyone knew how badly this could end, it would be the both of you.

“I fucked up,” you admit, though that was already evident in the heated silence that followed the squad home, “I made a fucking mistake. Is that what you want to hear?”

“No,” Ekko answers imply, “no, that’s not what I want to hear. Because that’s bullshit, too.”

“Excuse me?” You scoff, your expression mixed with shock and disbelief. “How are you gonna tell me about what I did? You think I don’t know what a fucking mistake is-”

“That wasn’t no fucking ‘mistake’, (Y/N)!” Ekko interjects again, and it’s the subtlety of which he does so that begins to spark an ember in your core with him. 

“We been in this game- we been together- for seven years, (Y/N),” the brown eyed boy continues, “seven fucking years. You think I don’t know your mistakes by now? You think I don’t know you?”

Of course he does, you think. Otherwise he wouldn’t be as angered as he is right now. 

“I know what it was,” he proclaims, pointing at you in an accusatory motion “it was your head.”

“My head?” You reiterate, said limb on your body tilting to the side, a growing annoyance evident in your voice. “What about my head, Ekko?”

“You really gon’ make me say it out loud?”

“Yes, cuz I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

It was a lie; you knew very well what he was referencing. You weren’t sure how it was so easy for such words to spill from your lips. Maybe it was because of the suddenness of this confrontation, despite knowing it was bound to happen. You’d played every plausible scenario of how this exact moment would play out, attempting to prepare yourself for Ekko’s questioning, and the inevitable argument that would take place. Maybe it was because you wanted him to hurry this charade along, despising his natural skill of dragging things on for far longer than what they needed to be.

“I have you as my sniper for a reason,” Ekko begins, “I have you as my second in command for a reason. Not because you’re the only person I’ve got left-” a fib of his own spills from his lips, but addressing it would not steer the conversation anywhere but in circles, “-not because you’re my fucking girlfriend, but because you proved that you could always hold a chill head. That you could take the orders given. That you could make the calls when I can't.”

“I’m sure you’ll get to a point eventually, Ek.” You scoff, refraining from rolling your eyes as he lectured you as if you were still children, holled up in an alleyway on the streets of the Undercity, hiding from enforcer soldiers.

“Whatever the fuck that was out there, was not a calm and chill head. So I need you to tell me,” Ekko steps closer, the sound of his combat boots echoing throughout the tattered walls of the gear room, “what did you see that knocked you off?”

“This is ridiculous, Ekko,” you profess, “what’re you gonna do if I don’t?” Take me off the tracking team? Demote me?”

Perhaps it wasn’t wise to say such daring words to the very leader of the rebellion you swore your life to. If there was anything about Ekko that was redeeming, it was his unyielding devotion to owning his title and standing on his word. And as he stands before you, an arms length away with chocolate brown irises blazing into yours with a fire so hot it could scorch your own fierce ones, there’s a gnawing at your stomach that tells you that he absolutely would. 

“You think I won’t?”

Silence filled the already tension-thick atmosphere, seeping into the folds and making it all the more unbearable. You weren’t sure how long the two of you stared at each other in a battle of will, a common practice the two of you engaged in whenever a disagreement arised. Without an audience, the glares in exchange lasted for what felt like minutes, hours. 

And Ekko wasn’t backing down.

“Are you serious?” You muttered through gritted teeth. “All this over a dumb mistake that will never happen again?”

“It was a mistake that could have costed us lives!” Ekko bellows once more, and if it weren't for it being the second time he had raised his voice, you may have flinched by the volume it had risen to. “We can’t afford to make mistakes, (Y/N) - especially with what we do - you know that more than anyone here!”

“And it wont happen again!” You declared, garnering agitation in your voice from having to repeat yourself more than you would like to. 

“And how can I know that, (Y/N)!?” Ekko shouts, challenging your words once more, and it more than suggests to you that he doesn’t believe them. He knows you’re not telling him everything, and it irks him to his core.

You turn once again with a mission to leave, even getting your feet to start moving, but that doesn’t stop Ekko from continuing to speak his mind. “What’s so hard about telling me what you saw!?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that it was nothing?”

“You can tell me a thousand times and I still won’t believe you-” the white haired boy rebutted, “because this isn’t you, (Y/N)!”

You weren’t sure for how long your back and forth ensued. Countless minutes of shouting back and forth, overlapping words, pleas to come clean, pleas to forget. This kind of situation wasn’t unfamiliar territory for the two of you. Ekko had a lot of weight on his shoulders, a lot of trauma he hadn’t yet faced, that he had pushed deep down to never be addressed. You understood, because you related. 

You both were there that night. You both witnessed the same act of monstrosity from the sworn enemy of your people’s leader. It was the very catalyst for the current occupation the both of you shared as leaders in a dwindling community, striving for peace and unadulterated existence while simultaneously fighting against the overwhelming clutch Silco’s grasp held on Zaun.

The woman you had become was because of that bastard's treachery and cruelty, who played a game that cost the lives of thousands. A woman of practicality, precision and calculated action. In this world there was very little room for emotion. Years ago, you wouldn’t gotten roughed up a little, but now, it got you a one-way ticket to the green, polluted waters of the desolate sewer system to be feasted on by the rats…and whatever other poor monstrosities that came from SIlco’s Shimmer.

Ekko knows this. Ekko knows all of it. Which is why he finds himself so frustrated that you won’t talk to him. It’s only in the midst of his grunting and growling that it clicks to him. A possibility as to why you acted out of such a practiced routine. Yet, he doesn’t know if he should rejoice about his revelation, or grow even more heated.

“You saw her.”

Three words that seemed to silence the world spilled from his lips in a breathy gasp. He knows he’s right when your lips come together in a tight line, and for the first time since the confrontation was initiated, your eyes divert from his.

You saw her.

“You saw her, didn’t you?” He asks, but is met with silence once again.

The topic of Jinx was always a sensitive one. Ekko may have been able to fool himself into detachment from the blue haired girl, shredding whatever hope he had left of recovering the old Powder who loved to go on runs with the two of you and made trinkets for your birthdays out of scrap metal and hard work. However, the same could not be said for you.

“(Y/N)-”

“So what if I did?” The rebuttal is sharp tongued and weighty, heavy with emotion, and Ekko knows what is inevitable to come.

“So what if I did see her, Ekko? What would you say?” You ask through gritted teeth, words strained as you feel the dam of emotions inside of you starting to overflow. “The same old shit you say all the time? That she’s gone and there’s no path of redemption for her? That she’s not worth saving?”

He’d never said such words aloud, but Ekko was guilty of thinking them, and to hear them verbalized tore open the same wound in his heart he’d patched up time and time again with each mention of the long lost friend.

“You may be able to let go, Ekko,” you grumble through gritted teeth, eyes watering over, and Ekko doesn’t know if its the sight of you crying or if it's the way the conversation has shifted that has him stilling, jaw clenched tightly, “but I can’t do that…I just can’t.”

And then, you left. And suddenly the unbearably thick summer air turned bitingly cold against Ekko’s skin as he watched you walk away. And as Ekko wipes down the length of his face, he knows there’s nothing much left for him to do but wait.

Wait until the air has become more bearable to breath. Wait until the tension has subsided. Wait until apprehension no longer clogs his stomach heavily, so that regrettable words would not be spoken.

“Hey, I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Going to the market?”

“Yeah. Your bike needs a rotator chain, I’m gonna see if I can find one on the west end.”

One week. Seven days. 168 hours since you’ve last seen Ekko.

“Be careful out there. Silco’s goons have been making rounds again, and they aren’t sparing anyone in these parts.”

You don’t remember leaving the sanctuary. You just remember waking up on your friends couch after, according to them, was a rough and stormy night. You probably blacked out after your screaming match with him, and had an overwhelming desire to just get away. Your friend’s place was the only spot safe enough for you to crash at until you got your head straight.

Though, after seeing what you saw, could you really expect to snap back in a mere few hours?

“I’ll be good. They won’t touch me if they know what’s good for them.”

You left the tiny home of your friend, clad in the same clothes you had left in and a jacket you were quick to grab from their wardrobe. They lived pretty high up above the marketplace - the homes of the residents of Zaun were built into the underside of the extravagant Piltover, where everything was dark, dank, and cold. Layers upon layers of makeshift apartments stacked on top of one another for conservation of what little space the undercity did have.

Your hand grabbed the pole of the crossbridge that led from the side your friend’s apartment was to the other, and with expert precision, you maneuvered your way down the several levels and layers of homes connected by bridges of wood, metal and concrete.

Memories of parkouring as a little girl began to flutter into your mind. How you loved to best Ekko, the self proclaimed ‘King of Parkour’, at his own game. How Powder would tag along with you because she wanted to be with her friends-

Fuck, you weren’t suppose to think about her.

You were thankful your feet met the ground before more thoughts of Powder filled your mind, because if you had still been swinging from pole to pole and jumping from wood to metal, you’d surely lose your balance and come falling down the rest of the way. It was the effect the past had one you; and an unfortunate one at that.

It’s as if the second you find landing and start to walk in the direction of the marketplace, your ears catch wind of commotion to your left. The muffled grunting and clamoring causes you to pause and turn, peering out of your hood to see what was happening.

You’d always been the one to answer a call to action, so there wasn’t much surprise when you found yourself inching closer to the alleyway of which was producing the concerning sounds. It had only been ingrained into you from your youth, and had become second nature in the wake of Silco’s reign. Having a knack for helping people was a blessing and a curse, and while it got you into more trouble than you would like, the favors that you’d stocked up on came in handy.

Approaching the alleyway closer you could make out two figures standing - Silco’s men, no doubt, given the way they dress and the horrible filth they speak. Then there’s a person on the ground, wearing green.

Green was the color of the Firelights, and so naturally, you assumed the worst.

With your ankle pressing against the small knife hidden in your boot, you knew what had to be done. You crouched down behind a stack of crates and whistled, catching one of the perp’s attention. As they approached your direction for inspection, in one quick motion, you slipped the knife from your boot, took hold of the perp’s arm and knocked him into the wall. The blade made itself a home in his neck, muffling any yell he would’ve mustered out.

By the time you were finished, the second perp had been taken care of as well by the victim they were cornering. Revealing yourself from behind the stack of crates, your worries had been confirmed when getting a closer look at the coat the other person was wearing.

It was indeed a Firelights coat - a deep forest green to blend in with the shadows but still be distinguishable. The Firelight had been injured it seemed, as they held their arm close and with care, wincing with every movement of it that was made.

“Hey,” you called out to them, advancing closer to them as you did so, “you alright? Where’s your partner? You know if you’re patrolling you gotta be in pairs-”

“(Y/N)!” The Firelight gasps out in relief, confusing you. “Lieutenant- you’ve gotta help us! We were outnumbered- a-and got split up, they jumped us!- from every corner, we didn’t see them coming-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” You quickly soothing, grounding the obviously frightened soldier with reassuring hands on their shoulder, guiding them to breathe, “you have to slow down for me, and breathe so you can clearly-”

“-a-and it’s Ekko- Ekko, he got hurt-”

And in that moment, your world slows, and there’s an instant pit in your stomach that comes from thinking the worst. If Ekko of all people got taken out of commission, whatever that was going on was serious.

“...okay,” you start after your shock passes over you. As if a switch in your brain is flipped, and now you’re in fight mode, “you need to take me to where you all split from. Now.”

Your voice is commanding and stern, leaving no room for discussion. The Firelight, still holding his arm, nods at your command. As the two of you leave, you pick up the weapon that the second perp had been carrying on his back; it wasn’t anything compared to your sniper gun, but it would have to do.

According to the Firelight, the mission was to stop one of Silco’s Shimmer transports to a hotspot location known for distribution of the drug. The normal prep for such a mission was done properly, but there was an underestimation of power in numbers on Silco’s end. What’s more, a certain blue haired girl decided to make her presence known as well, and her erraticness threw everyone off square. To save face, Ekko commanded everyone to split up.

Which meant Ekko was alone, and hurt, and probably wallowing in some form of guilt, and that could not do. A guilty Ekko was not a functional one.

“We were over there when the fight started,” said the Firelight as the two of you stood on top of a roof overlooking the distribution post, “when he made the call, I saw him go east in the direction of the Last Drop. The two other soldiers went west, and I ran south.”

Two large, burly men, littered with tattoos and hardened by the streets, guarded a small cart covered with blue metal barrels, a strip of thick translucent plastic going down the side, showing the bright magenta liquid inside. Four more paced around the small clearing area, seemingly on the lookout for someone.

Six men within a ten yard radius of each other. If you were right, that cart held about thirty gallons of Shimmer. Tests done on the drug proved that it was highly flammable, which normally meant that with your sniper gun, setting the scene ablaze would be easy. But with a mere regular shotgun in your possession, you’d need an extra boost.

“Look in your pouch for me,” you direct to the Firelight soldier, “do you got any of those spark pouches?”

The Firelight uses his good arm to fish in his thigh pouch, producing a small, red sack of gunpowder. “What’re you thinking, Lieutenant?”

“We need to take these guys out while destroying that shipment in the process,” you explain, pointing towards the triangular shape of trajectory between each of the guardsmen and the cart, “the spray of the Shimmer is about fifteen yards, which will cover more than enough of the ten yard radius those guys are in. I need you to throw that spark pouch right in between the two guards on my signal. When I shoot, it’s gonna be enough Shimmer spray to kill them…but we gotta move fast to avoid it.”

It wouldn’t have been the first time someone looked at you crazy for such a straightforward plan. You’d garnered many such stares since you first began in the Firelight ranks. There was a method to your madness, as Ekko would put it, and there had never been a reason for anyone to not trust your judgements or plans. Despite the Firelight’s initial questioning of the credibility of such a plan, there was no choice but for him to go along.

The two of you backed up as much as possible on the rooftop to make it easier for a clean getaway. Once in position, you pulled out the gun you had acquired earlier, checking the magazine for sufficient bullets. Then, you took aim at the center of the cart, inhaling a deep breath to steady your hand and focus your vision.

At one, the world began to slow when your aim focussed steadily.

At two, you prepared your wrist for the recoil that would shock your hand.

At three, the Firelight soldier threw the spark pouch with expert precision. Not a second later, the shot from your gun rung out.

The sight that Ekko wakes up to is a pleasant one compared to the week he’s had.

The sun is blinding through his makeshift sunroof. There’s a dull pain on his side, and a ringing in his ears that subsides the more his vision focuses. It’s a great contrast to what he thought he’d be seeing when he awoke, but he welcomes the feeling of home that washes over his being.

His eyes turn to his side where he sees you, sitting next to his bed. His jacket is thrown loosely over your shoulders, and in your hands, you twirl a piece of folded paper. His eyebrows furrow at the sight; he isn’t expecting you to be here with him.

Noticing that he’d woken up, you focus your attention on the injured man. The folded letter is placed on the crate that acts as a nightstand next to Ekko’s bed, and you lean forward onto the bed to get closer to him. His hair is disheveled, locs splayed everywhere on his pillow and on his face. His abdomen is bandaged tightly, yet even the white gauze leaves little to the imagination. And the sun shines on his cocoa colored skin, contrasting against your own as you slip his larger hand into your own.

You needed to feel him, and be thankful that he was here.

“Hey, you,” Ekko croaks out, voice raspy and patchy from what you can only assume was yelling and sleep.

“Hi,” you mutter out against the back of his hand, lips pulled into a tight smile.

“Thought you were still mad at me.”

“”m not mad,” you mumble, shaking your head, “just glad you're okay.”

The fact that you’re not being snarky with him tells Ekko that there’s something weighing on you; something that’s not remorse for your absence, but something deeper. His eyes travel over to the nightstand, falling onto the letter once again.

“What’s that?” He points out, curiosity filling his patchy voice.

There’s a moment’s pause before you speak again, your voice somber and emotional; “It’s….what I saw.”

What I saw can only be referring to the incident a week prior, Ekko determines. His eyes turn back to you, his hand giving yours a gentle tug towards him, gesturing for you to climb into bed with him. He meets little resistance, and takes a little pride in how easily you slip into his side, molding against his form as you were made to. His arm wraps around your shoulders, helping you hide in the crook of his neck; a much needed escape you’ve wanted to indulge in for a while.

“Deal with it later,” he mumbles against your hairline, “jus’ stay with me.”

Resting against Ekko’s broad chest, you thought on his words. Knowing yourself, dealing with things later wouldn’t be as productive as he’d hope. You’d want to forget the subject entirely, revert back to the same concealment as before. Knowing the both of you, it couldn't be dealt with later.

“It was her eyes, Ekko,” You mumbled into his shirt, prompting the darker male to turn his attention to you, “there was something in them, Ekko. I swear there was.”

Seeing Jinx on that night wasn’t what any of you had intended. She’d very scarcely shown her face on the streets of Zaun, presumably at SIlco’s behest. As mad of a kingpin he was, he himself couldn’t deny the deranged nature the blue haired girl had. And yet, when she showed signs of stability, he seemed to allow her off on transportation missions at the very least. And it just so happened that after six years, a week ago was the first time you’d seen Jinx since the night Vander died.

When you saw those blue eyes, dulled and lifeless, it hurt. Hurt to know that the possibility of Powder truly being gone was higher than what you’d let yourself believe. Hurt to know that you would never have your friend back, and that there would never be any chance of recovering the family you’d list all those years ago.

You’d seen her, and then, she saw you. And when she did, the world slowed. And for a second, when your eyes caught each other, a flash of something came across her eyes that caused your body to react against your well-trained judgment. It was as if she had recognized you and felt a sense of…wistfulness.

Though it didn’t reflect anything of the like when she raised her gun towards you, and you had no choice but to act before she could.

“There was a moment where I…thought she recognized me,” you muttered, “but then she….raised her gun to me.”

Ekko’s chest stuttered as he released a shaky breath to your words. There’s a pause before you speak again, “Is it easier for you to just…believe she’s really gone?”

A long moment of silence passes…”Yeah, it is.”

Ekko has always thought about Jinx. It’s hard not to when her presence can change any of his plans on a whim, since he has people to protect and her mentality is as finicky as a time bomb. But Powder…he hates to think about her.

“If she was gone from the start,” Ekko mutters through a voice crack, “it means there wasn’t a chance to save her in the first place. Means I never failed in saving her, I guess.”

Your hand reaches up to caress Ekko’s face, jaw clenched tight from his own words, and when you look into his eyes, you can see the vulnerability he tries so hard to hide when talking about the blue haired girl. There was beauty in it, you always told him, though you never thought he truly believed you when you said it. Ekko was never given much grace to be vulnerable, to be a boy. He’d found that in you; so you knew it took a lot for him to even admit as such to your question.

You don’t really get to be a kid after watching the people you love die in front of you. Even the ones who still walk the land with another soul in their bodies.

You press a kiss onto his lips; gentle, affirming, and grounding. Your thumb runs the length of his cheekbones and  you find comfort in the crevice of his neck once again. When Ekko relaxes against your hold, you release a breath of air, and think that perhaps it’s best that you adopt his way of thinking as well.

Powder was gone, but at least in this hell, you had each other.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

[cyberdragoninfinity]

what duel links taunts are your favorites, actually? (i don't even know what primo's taunts are, come to think of it, I hope he has something about a bee in there)

GOD IT'S SO HARD TO PICK it really is bonkers that each character has a solid 10-12 whole taunts, and the voice acting on all of them is just fantastic....AND THERES SO MANY I HAVENT EVEN HEARD YET!!! gonna be a lot of links in this ask i fear lol i know ive recorded a bunch of my favs and tucked them into my ygo clips tag

Primo actually has two bee-related taunts, but imho theyre just ok

fuck you lookin crazy for eat your food!!!

no actually my favorite Primo taunts are the short ones I talk about here, where he mentions Lester and Jakob...theyre simple but I love em, hehehe

Other taunts I like:

godddd Z-one's taunts make me CRAZYYYYY. FUCKED UP OLD MAN I LOVE YOUUUUU. WHY DID THEY HAVE HIM GIGGLING AND PURRING IN A BUNCH OF HIS TAUNTS!!! and of course i love his taunt referencing his duel with Aporia. divorce taunt. making me grieve all over again that 5ds never got a finished dub.

All of Dennis's taunts are so so fucking funny but these are my top favs. "I'll pretend i did SEE THAAAAATTTT ✨😊💞" makes me lose it EVERY TIME.

In general, absolutely LOVE that Alito and Girag got a complete second set of taunts for their Barian forms?!?!? (idk why Mizar didnt though???!?!?) Anyway HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND still makes me crack up

This grandpa muto taunt really truly one of the funniest I think. Serving Youtube Poop.

and also heres just a bunch of Syrus's taunts because theyre all funny and I love him so much. sassy little fucker

[yearningandpatheticaboutit]

CHAPTER 14: I CANT STAND THIS ANYMORE

wc: 6054

tags: violence, attempted s/a, smut, angst, drugs

a/n: this chapter might be triggering for some people, read at your own risk.

prev chapter

yaera

i havent been to one of these events since i was fifteen. that doesnt sound like a long time, but considering my sister was still alive then, it certainly felt like forever had passed.

the dress i was given is pretty at least. its black, has long sleeves and looks like it was designed for a sexy vampire. one good thing came out of this shitfest.

but the best part is, i can hide san's drugs within my outfit. im not stashing them in matching black purse because it'll get searched, but the tiny ziplock bags fit perfectly in my sleeves and boob area. this will truly be the riskiest thing ive ever done.

irina and the others even messaged me not to forget the stuff. im so focused on just getting that money the fear i had buried inside me hasnt completely resurfaced yet.

im staring at myself in the mirror, looking at my smokey eye make up. the black hair dye really gave me a morbid yet sexy aesthetic that im not bad about. if i could describe myself in two words, it would be exactly that, morbid and sexy.

the sexy part is what bothers me. i know there are people who would agree all too willingly with that. and its not my target audience.

my room door swings open and my mother walks in. theres a strange look on her face as she takes me in. we say nothing to each other for a few moments till she breaks the silence.

"bellisima," she says, almost under her breath. "we can really never go wrong with santo. he made you look like a princess, even if you look like you are going to a funeral."

my insides squirm at the mention of his name. i tried to ignore it, but the fear i felt in that bathroom is coming back full swing. im seeing him tonight. he'll be waiting for me.

"please don't do this again this year," i stiffly begged. "you need to find someone your own age Santo. I'm...I'm not the one."

santo cocks his head to the side and smirks. "and who told you that? who said you're not perfect for me?"

"i don't fucking want you," I hissed. his eyes widen slightly, more out of sick arousal instead of offense.

he advanced on me and i blinked, finding myself pressed against a stall. i whimpered and tried to wriggle out of his grip, but my arms were pinned to the side. oh my God, I'm going to be sick.

"but I want you, and you know that. so why don't you stop playing games," he whispered dangerously close to my ear. i shivered and my nausea kept tugging at my stomach.

"i'm your only chance at a respectable man. your parents already love me. so why don't you accept the love I have for you? you'll never find anyone like me, tesoro."

"i fucking hope so," i whispered, pinching my eyes closed. he moved his face infront of mine, hovering his lips over mine. I whined and wriggle, but he isn't fazed by my struggling.

"you're a big girl now, right?" he said lowly. "i think it's time you feel like a woman."

i snap out of that awful memory when my mother clicks her fingers infront of my face. "come on, hurry up! we are only waiting on you!"

i cant leave san's side tonight. no matter what.

when i get downstairs, my nearly feel the breath getting knocked out of me. he's standing there, looking more handsome than i've ever seen him. black hair slicked back, eyebrows done. the suit is sitting perfectly. its like he's the model here and not me. god i think im going to be sick.

he gives me a small smile but says nothing.

"doesn't she look perfect, amore mio?" my mother says to my father, who only gives an awkward smile of acknowledgement.

"the two of you can sit at the back of the limo. your mother and i will take the two front seats," my father says, then turns to san with a pointed finger. "dont get any ideas, boy. i know your headmaster personally."

san awkwardly laughs. "i would never, sir."

i try not to wonder how true that is. we pile into the limo and my parents keep looking at us through the rearview, making sure there's a significant gap between us. i look over to him and all the anger i felt before is just gone. i think im fucking whipped.

hes the most beautiful man ive ever seen.

"san..."

"you look really pretty," he tells me before i can say anything. saying that with the most expressionless face makes my face drop.

"oh-"

"i just wanted to say that. you really do."

i dont know what to say. the limo is dim so i dont know if he can see how flushed i feel. he leans forward and i think hes about to kiss me. i hope for it. i dont even care if my parents are nearby.

"where are you hiding the stuff?" he whispers. oh right, his drugs.

i show him my sleeves, how the pills are pressed finely between the folds. then i point to my bust. "others are in here," i say.

he chuckles lowly. "creative. you can give me some if you need more space."

if san gets caught with this my parents would end him. everything he worked to achieve would be gone in less than 2 days.

"i think i should keep it. just in case anything happens. you know, rich girl immunity."

san nods and leans back away from me, making me feel empty. "of course."

no words are exchanged between us for a few moments. so we're really going to pretend like the party didnt happen? did that mean it was never going to happen ever again. i dont want to sound desperate but my head is screeching for answers.

but i focus on what matters tonight. putting on a show. getting irina and the others their drugs and collecting payment. and most of all, escaping santo.

"san, can you do me a favour?" i ask.

he hesitates but nods anyway.

"dont leave my side tonight. please."

he rubs the back of his head nervously. "well, i am your date. and i dont know anyone else here."

god. he doesnt realize how bad i need him.thats the thing, i need him more than he needs me. i can never delete what i have on him. i never know when this will go sideways.

the party is at some hotel. when we get there, i can tell the reception is intimidating to san. the cameras, the flashing lights. the security. i grab his hand and he doesnt protest as we go inside. both of us get patted down by security guards, of course the drugs go undetected.

we go inside and the dinner set up is fancy as fuck. i look at san and i cant tell if hes forcing the coolness to not have a panic attack, but his face is blank. i spot irina and the others at a table and wave, my mother dragging us to a separate table with our name on it.

theres a stage with a massive projection screen, where a slideshow of the lingerie collection plays. i know at some point the pictures from the shoot will play out as well. im hoping to sneak off before then because i cant handle the embarrassment.

"so this is your life huh," san mutters next to me. i frown, his tone sounds disappointed.

"whats wrong?" i ask.

"nothing. just...i cant believe it sometimes."

hes been acting so weird. is he insecure? fuck i.dont even know where to start placing questions. my stomach sinks a little at his tone. i guess he'll never get it. he doesnt understand what im really running from. i doubt he ever will. that class disconnect will keep beating our ass.

to him, anything is better than being in a gang. i guess hes right. but that doesnt mean there arent things out there that would make you want to kill yourself. i would know.

santo walks out on the stage and everyone starts clapping like this is the oscars. "good evening everyone, buenos noches, buonasera, and everything else! welcome to the launch of the new Cosa Pericolosa brand. a brand distinct for its dangerous yet delicate beauty, made of the finest Italian lace and silk. i want to thank everyone for coming to celebrate and enjoy this milestone. there will be dancing and there will be a party, saluto!"

as soon as he gets off that stage, i see his face find my parents table. hes coming straight for us. i instantly grab san's hand under the table. he turns to me utterly confused, but i cant deal with that right now.

"mi famiglia!" santo loudly says and kisses my parents on the cheek. he gets to me and does the same, his kiss lingering on me longer than i wanted. i suppress a shiver. "tesoro, you look beautiful in the dress i picked! im so glad to see everyone here!"

"we could not have done it without you, santo!" my mother gushes. "you look so handsome!"

"ah, you are making me shy. it is really you people who are stealing the show, wait till you see how the pictures turned out!" he laughs obnoxiously, turning to smile at me.

"im so glad you are here, tesoro. it is good to finally have you back. your sister would be proud of you."

"thank you, santo." i force a smile. when really i want to scream. dont fucking bring her up, i want to scream it. but i force a stupid, docile smile. fuck if this night goes on for any longer, i might end up doing these drugs myself.

"hold on, who is this," santo finally acknowledges san. he holds out his hand to him. "i am santo falcone. but you can call me santo, you are?"

"that is yaera's date," my mother chimes in as san awkwardly takes his hand. "san choi. he is a classmate."

"oh," santo's smile tightens and he glances at me. "just a classmate?"

my father forces a laugh. "of course. do you know me? she can meet someone when it is time to get married."

santo grips san's hand for an uncomfortable amount of time till he ends up needing to rip it away. "nice to meet you, san choi. excuse me, i will return to you all. i have to greet the other guests and then have them run the music. you all enjoy the night."

he leaves, giving me a weird look before going. is he fucking jealous? does he seriously think he owns me? i dont know how my sister worked with him. hes so fucking creepy and somehow that never came up between us.

irina and the others arrive at our table next, greeting my parents with hugs and kisses. "can we steal yaera for a second? she looks so gorgeous!" claire says, gushing.

"no really, i want to rip that dress off you!" anya says. my mother rolls her eyes and laughs.

"please girls, bring her back in one piece for the show." my mother says. a smirk i know to be devious grows on irina's lips.

"oh we will, dont worry, mrs marino."

im so happy to get up from that table. san grabs my dress and looks up like a lost kid. "where are you going? dont leave me by myself here," he says under his breath.

awww hes so awkward. "ill be right back. dont miss me too much."

his eyes are desperate and his smile is so forced its hilarious. "youre really going to leave me with your parents?"

"dont worry she'll be back!" anya tells him, noticing him holding my dress. "your boyfriend is so clingy, yaera."

i can tell san is trying not to murder her with his glare. not more can be said because im whisked away. we end up in the bathrooms that look like something out of the louvre. anya and claire start taking mirror selfies while irina starts putting the money down on the sink.

"all of it is here, you can count it yourself. now where are the stuff?" she says. i start unrolling my sleeves, taking four of the bags out, getting the other five from my boobs.

anya and claire quickly come scrambling. "oh god, finally!" claire says. "we've been waiting so long."

"is it really that good?" i wonder, their relief is crazy to see. "better than what you already do?"

"alone its okay. but together with what we already do? a fucking trip to the skies," irina shakes her head with a smile. "ive never been so glad to know you, marino."

mixing drugs. that doesnt sound smart. but what do i know? im not the addict.

i smile and take the money, folding it back into my boobs. "youre welcome. and you know if you need more, where to call me."

"of course. and you better answer."

"your boyfriend is so fucking hot yaera," anya says with a sigh. "hes literally gorgeous. where did you find him?"

"careful, you cougar. you cant be talking about an 18 year old like that," i joke.

"im not even twenty three shut the fuck up!" she shoves at my shoulder.

"so he is your boyfriend?" claire smiles. the three of them coo like children when i start blushing.

"im getting there guys," i say. "hopefully soon."

"what do his parents do? he looks like a model himself." claire says.

"you know this is yaera, hes probably crazy as fuck. like the last one, what was his name?" irina chimes in with a snort. "i bet this one is the reason she has drugs in the first place."

i scowl at her. shes right but i hate that she read me so easily. "bitch, just enjoy my services. goddamn it you people are nosy."

she raises an eyebrow. "am i right though?"

i roll my eyes and start to leave, saluting on my way out. "im getting back now to my date now, goodbye ladies."

luckily when i get out, theres music playing and people are on the floor. san is sitting alone by the table, taking random sips out of a champagne glass. im so excited. i actually got money back for us. i throw my hands onto his shoulders and smile widely, unable to hold my excitement.

"so guess who collected their first payment?"

san's eyes widen. "all the money there?"

"every last note. so i think to celebrate we should dance."

san frowns and cringes. "i dont dance. im fine here."

i roll my eyes and grab his hand, pulling him up with a hard tug. "is it a sin for you to do ANYTHING fun? the music is playing and we have something to celebrate, come on."

he sighs and gives in with a lame smile. "fine."

i lead him to the dancefloor, swinging my arms around his neck. san's hands drop to my lowerback as we sway and i cant ignore the happiness bubbling in my brain. i cant stop smiling.

"you seem really happy," he notes. "you're getting a big head from your first payment huh?"

"of course. its just what i needed to prove myself to you. that i can pull my weight and that im not just some liability."

"i never said that-"

"yes you did san. many times." i remind him, and his cheeks flush from.embarrassment. "i can even quote you on it if you want?"

"please dont," he chuckles under his breath. "fine, i guess you can pull your weight."

his dimples are piercing through. i stare at him mesmerized and i cant even hide it. i bet if i was a cartoon in this very moment, i'd be having stars in my eyes.

"you're perfect, you know that?" i say without thinking.

san's eyes widen, then darken in seconds. "what?" his voice is just barely together.

"i want to kiss you again," i admit. "i think its all i'll want for a really long time."

i lightly stroke his cheeks, seeing them go rosey. this is all i have. the only thing that shows me that i do affect him.

his eyes dart down to my lips and i shrink the distance between us, till we're just barely a centimeter apart.

"i dont want you to think about it," i tell him. "just do whatever you want in the moment. thats all that matters."

"yaera..." he gulps, then takes a step back. "i-i dont know about this. lets just...this isnt good. for either of us."

"says who?" i scoff.

"says me. you and i should just stay business partners. strictly business. anything else wont end well for either of us."

hearing that makes my heart shatter and my stomach drop. fuck i can feel my eyes filling with water. i try to choke.it down but i know its obvious.

"so you're just gonna.pretend we never kissed at that party?" i lay down my arms from his neck. "youre just going to pretend that never happened?"

san stops dancing and gives me a curt nod. "i think its best we do. we both know i just represent something to you. something forbidden. thats why you want me right? because im someone you cant have."

i laugh bitterly. "i cant fucking believe you."

i feel a tear drop. san sees it and frowns. "yaera wait-"

i swat his hands away from me. "you are such a fucking dick."

i get off the dancefloor and run somewhere. i dont know where. im just walking, looking for a place to break down and sob. god this is so embarrassing. im so fucking pathetic.

i stop infront of a random room and twist the door handle. its unlocked, thank god. i go inside and fall onto the bed, my chest instantly getting wrecked. i start sobbing horrifically, unable to believe how awful i feel right now.

whats wrong with me. what is legitimately wrong with me. why was he so cold? am i not pretty enough for him or something? this cant just be about the business. i refuse to believe it. and even if it is, why do i feel so worthless?

everytime jongho has rejected me and made me feel like nothing but a stupid slut flashes infront of me. the feeling stabs me like a knife.

that must be it. thats probably what he sees me as. a stupid, desperate evil slut. all i do is throw myself at him. even at that party, i couldnt wait to be all over him. im pathetic. and desperate. i should just die.

my gloves are soaked. i cant believe how much im crying. maybe i should go back to therapy. maybe i wasnt coping as well as i thought i was.

i look up into the mirror stand, seeing my make up absolutely ruined. my entire face is red, and my hair is sticking to my soaked cheeks. i look like shit.

suddenly i remember why i stayed away from men in the first place. because im too fucking sensitive. my mood depends on them. my self worth is a reflection of how much they like me. they control whether i feel emotional highs and emotional lows.

i start laughing at myself. i cant believe i got myself into this kind of fuckery again.

the door opens suddenly, making me jolt. santo comes in and closes the door behind him, smiling tightly. i jerk up and start stumbling back, backing myself into a wall to be far away from him.

"what are you doing here?" i ask, my voice shaking.

"i saw you dancing with that...child," he slowly laughs, his tone sounding bitter. "you have no business being with someone like him, tesoro."

"santo-"

"do you know how fucking sick i felt?" he snaps, stalking like a dangerous animal. "seeing you with him? while you wear the dress i picked out for you?"

being alone was a mistake. i try to dart for the door but he grabs me and picks me up, covering my mouth with his hand. he throws me onto the bed, forcing his bodyweight on top of me. im frozen, i cant move. every karate class ive taken, all my knowledge on hurting someone just vanishes. hes on top of me and i cant move.

im sobbing again. he presses his finger to my lip, hushing me.

"i should be the only one who takes this dress off you tonight," he whispers. he starts lowering the top, leaving the top of my chest exposed. "dont cry, tesoro, you'll feel so much better after. ive been waiting for this for so long..."

"no please, santo," i beg through my tears. "please just leave me alone. please just-"

theres a few knocks on the door. "yaera, is that you? can i come in?"

that's san's voice. santo clamps his palm over my lips again and i scream.through them. its muffled. i start struggling and kicking but he wont get off me. he forces his hand harder. "fucking stop," he growls at me.

the door swings open anyway. san barges in and santo quickly jumps off me, suddenly on the other side of the room. san looks between us, frozen in his feet.

"what, did anyone say you could fucking come in?" santo screams. san stays staring between us, his face absolutely blank. santo scoffs and adjusts his suit jacket before storming out and slamming the door.

i sit up on the bed, looking at san through blurry eyes. i cant even find my voice. i cant even deal with what just happened.

"did he try..." san trails off, shaking his head at me. he rushes to sit down next to me. i cant help it, as soon as he wraps his arms around me i start bawling again.

"i cant fucking breathe. san please i just want to get away from here. please can we just leave."

he softly rubs the side of my head as he holds my face in his chest. "lets go. we'll go away from here. far away from.here. anywhere."

***

san

i dont even know where to start.

yaera and i ordered an uber from the hotel, disappearing with the permission of her father, saying she felt sick and she needed to go home. they werent happy but yaera's distraught face convinced them. they have no idea what the fuck happened tonight. they were sitting with that same guy that night.

hell, i dont even know what happened. but i could put two and two together.

yaera and i havent said a word to each other. shes passed out on my chest all the way to my apartment. i have to carry her on the way in. i have to put her down on her feet when its time to go into my apartment, and she hangs on my arm the entire time.

"you sure you fine with this?" i ask her. she nods wordlessly.

i let her inside, and she makes her way to my bed where she falls hopelessly. i go and sit down beside her, not knowing what to say. i dont know any words that can fix what happened tonight.

i know so much about her, but tonight...it made me realize i know nothing.

"this isnt the first time it happened," she says, her voice low and defeated. "the first time he did it...i was fifteen. he touched the inside of my thigh in a dressing room and kept trying it till i never went back. i never told my parents...or my sister."

i dont say anything. i let her speak.

"he told me he would never let me go. that he was in love with me. he tried so many times. at my own house. and everytime i would end up in the hospital...my parents would blame me. they would say that i was acting out. i didnt know how to tell them. they treated santo better me and my sister. hes a saint to them."

i feel my head heating up. a rich prick predator piece of shit. he deserves to disappear. he deserves to fucking rot.

i bet miss A could make a bastard like him disappear really quickly.

i take her hand and gently rub my thumb over her knuckles. i feel terrible. the only reason he was able to follow her was because of me.

"so thats why you asked me to not leave your side," i realized. "so you wouldnt be alone with him."

"he gets jealous of every man who comes near me," yaera's tears leak onto my pillow. "i thought if he saw you...he would really leave me alone this time. but it just...it made him more aggressive. he tried to..."

i pull her up and bring her into another hug, gripping her tightly. it felt like if i let her go that i'd never hold her again. that feeling terrifies me. i hate it so much.

"i'll never let him hurt you again," i swear. "i'll fucking kill him. just say the word and i will."

"i want him off my skin, san," she tells me pleadingly. "i dont want to feel him ever again. i want to scratch my skin off and be clean. i want to feel clean again."

"you arent dirty, yaera. hes the fucking filthy one for putting his hands on you," i hold her face in my hands. shes delicate, like porcelain. her eyes, that are usually so menacing and careless are filled with sadness. "youre perfect. you dont deserve that, dont for a second blame yourself. you're perfect, do you hear me?"

"if im so perfect then why dont you want me?" she whimpers. my blood runs cold. fuck how can she hit me with such a heavy loaded question.

theres no point in lying anymore. this is the last situation where i can lie.

"im scared," i admit. "im scared of you. and this. and everything. ive never had something like this, ive never had someone this close to me. i dont know how to handle it. ive been alone for so long i dont know how to let anyone be near me. i never let myself have anything. i always let go."

"please let me be there," she whispers in a tone i cant refuse. "please dont let me go. let yourself have this. let yourself have me."

my chest hurts. this night isnt going at all how i thought it would. its too much. i dont know what to say to yaera. i find my eyes feeling heavy. she takes my face in her hands again and i know she wants to kiss me. fuck it, this is the worst time. but at this point, there isnt ever a right time.

i go in for it and kiss her first. her lips are soft and velvety, and she melts against mine instantly. we start to lose our softness, with yaera pulling me closer and closer. its like she wants to take all the oxygen out of me. her kiss is hard, like a cry for help, like im all the air she'll ever need.

she breaks the kiss and drags her lips down my neck, making me shudder. yaera makes her way onto my lap and i dont fight it, her legs wrapping around me tightly as her dress rides up her thighs.

the kisses turn hot and i feel my brain losing sense. this wont end here, i know it. i want to stop it. i drag my willpower from the floor to break our kiss and she stares at me, frowning with swollen lips.

"is this really a good time?" i ask seriously. "you're really emotionally vulnerable right now. after what happened tonight, do you really think-"

"san," she interrupts me, pressing another kiss to my lips. "my life has been one big emotional fucked up moment, i want to forget. i want to have this, im so fucking dead inside. i want to feel alive again."

she stops showering me with warm pecks and looks me dead in the eye. "will you give me that?"

i hold her face again. my chest feels warm thinking about how no one sees her like this. her pain. but she trusts me enough. she lets me see it.

"i'll give you whatever you want tonight. i promise."

those words were all she needed. yaera slides her hands over my chest, pushing the suit jacket off. her hands move fast, flicking open every button till my chest is bare.

she presses her lips to mine again, her fingers tugging at my hair. i moan at the pull, surprising myself and her. she breaks the kiss and smiles down at me.

"i could get used to that sound," she teases. something stirs in me. she's so hot.

i move my hands to the back of her dress, finding the zipper. i dont break eye contact, and her smile only grows as the dress starts falling apart on her.

i slowly drag my lips down her neck, and she lets out a shiver. i fight my smile and continue to leave hot, soft kisses down her shoulder, moving down to her barely hidden cleavage. yaera harshly pulls the dress down, having rolls of money fall out and exposing her chest.

***

yaera

san stares at me after my boobs stare at him. there's a dazed look in his eyes that disappears once he lowers his mouth onto my one boob and grabs a hand full of the other.

i throw my head back, lost in a cloud after feeling his warm mouth. he starts sucking and massaging, rolling circles over my nipple. this is heaven. or something close to it definetely.

i feel my thighs tightening, warmth seeping down from my lower stomach. i try to stifle my moans, my mouth just barely gasping. he looks up at me, pausing on his motion. "you dont have to hold back. i told you i'll give you anything you want tonight," he whispers.

i hold his face with both my hands, feeling like i could cum from just staring into his eyes. "i only want you," i admit direly. i'll take anything he gives me. "but rubbing on you would be nice too."

he leans back, making me yearn. "okay, open wider."

hearing those words just makes me hotter. i get up from his lap and completely remove my dress, both of us just ignoring all the money on the floor. san's eyes hang on my every movement. im in nothing but black lace, and i dont waste time in throwing myself on his lap again, legs parted and ready.

he brings his lips to mine again, both softly and yet completely taking them as his own. his hand slips between my thighs, slowly trailing up like hes carressing fragile ceramics. i shiver as he gets closer to me, his hand finally slipping onto the base of me. he drags his thumb down my clothed folds, wrapping his arm around my waist to pull me closer.

i try to focus on kissing him, dragging my teeth down to his neck. i lose myself when he starts rubbing me with both fingers, feeling that jolt of warmth coursing through me.

my mouth is parted as my face is buried in his neck, pathetic whimpers pumping out of me. san starts going in circles, right in the perfect spot. i do myself the favour and move the fabric to the side, his warm fingers completely melting inside me as he pumps them in and out.

i know im doomed when i hear myself squelching. his rhythm is perfect, not too slow and not too fast, just enough for me to completely feel him and fade cloudily. i feel my high coming, my thighs starting to tense and my grip on him tightening. i start to kiss him frantically, till san keeps pushing his fingers faster. i feel like a hot coil, going and going till before i know it, im dripping all over his fingers.

i collapse onto his lap and he slowly drags them out, and i hear him prop them into mouth. i look at him with an accomplished smile on my face, shaking my head.

"you sick fuck, did you just taste me?"

san shrugs with a small smile on his face. "yeah, can you blame me?"

i cant contain myself, i kiss him again. i dont even feel close to done. "let me do something for you now?" i say against his lips.

"mmm mmm," san shakes his head, gently gripping my waist. "i just want you to feel good. do you?"

i nod. "i feel better than ever. but really, you dont want anything?"

he lets out a heavy sigh. "i didnt want to tell you this, but you feeling things makes me...feel things."

oh he just became ten times hotter.

i realize it now, while sitting so close to him, i can feel his massive boner poking me through his pants. i smirk to myself, getting an idea.

"oh no, you have that look on your face again," san mutters, moving my hair back. "what are you thinking?"

"readjust your friend. so i can sit on him."

san goes quiet, but i can feel him pulsing underneath me. its sensation is sending me into fucking heat all over again.

"i dont think we should go too far," he says. "dont get me wrong, i want to. i really do. but i dont think you're feeling hundred percent...after everything."

my smirk drops. i dont want to think of him. not right now. not while i have san's hands all over me. but i guess its not a good look if i do just jump his bones after everything that happened.

he holds my face in his hands and squeezes after i say nothing. "and dont think its because you're not pretty or anything. seriously, i dont know why you would even say that."

i shrug. my black and white state of thinking has never really helped me.

san picks up a pillow up and tosses it against the wall. "come on, lets fall asleep. we can talk again in the morning."

"okay," i mutter. i dont know what else to say. i get off him and and crawl into his bed. san follows after, his hot skin completely blanketing me as he puts his arm over my body and draws me against him.

"are you gonna act like nothing happened tomorrow again?" i ask.

silence.

"no. stop worrying."

his curt words dont register in my brain, because he places a warm kiss on my shoulder. it doesnt take me long to completely drift to sleep.

***

wooyoung

wooyoung knows he fucked up. he knows its all fucked up, he just doesnt know when he's going to tell san about it.

miss A is looking at him with cold eyes, he cant even utter a word because of the fear inside him. seonghwa is sprawled out on a broken couch, horrific burns all over him. hes barely alive, but he had it in him enough to tell everyone about what went down at the warehouse.

"changbin is dead, you know this right?" miss A tells him.

"yes, ma'am," he utters pathetically.

"so you know what you and lucky have to do."

he knows he cant stay a bitch in this gang for long. he knows its going to get real. petty stuff is all wooyoung is used to. extortion, scamming people. when he watched yunho die, a fear he thought was so far away just flashed infront of his eyes. he knew he'd come to be on the other end someday.

"you find that man...and you bring me his hand. or else, i'll have yours."

***

A/N: pls this chapter was a mess im sorry and it took forever to write , the next will be better 😭😭😭😭

NEXT CHAPTER

tagslist: @yujispinkhair @brown88 @sansonlygf

[collinnmckinley]

(TW: discussion of kink)

Man that was uh...wtf was that anon.

I think when it comes down to the bottom line regardless of how anyone feels about what your saying (I agree with you) you allowed to say your opinion.

I'm a firm believer of 'dont like don't read' and that you shouldn't comment negatively on someones work unless they ask for it. For fanfiction online is supposed to be simply shared. You haven't tagged (from what I've seen) anything in any of the x reader tags, you haven't gone on to other people's posts and complained, you havent blazed anything, you haven't named/shamed any blogs by name. None of what your saying is truly oppressive or bigotry. You have simply vented in the safety of your own posts. For someone to get mad about that? They have no real right. It's not fair. It's so entitled, if you can't vent here then where can you?

In terms of your argument, as someone who is more into kinks, even enjoying the odd CNC piece, I believe your totally right in what you say and the way your feeling is so reasonable.

The COD fandom wouldn't last a day in the real world. What fustrates me with all this fanficiton is not only is it out of character but everything's written and encouraging bad BDSM behaviour. Like NO ONE does BDSM like this.

There's no discussion of boundaries, theres no aftercare description, there's no love and care in these fics. BDSM is supposed to be a performance, it's ultimately light hearted and supposed to be enjoyable to both parties. It's playing around with your partner because that's what sex is supposed to be, fun.

The shit these people right is so obviously not right. It's directly the shit you see in high production porn, something that is always made to look good. Not to feel good. This stuff is all just normalised toxic and unhealthy relationships. What concerns me is with the forever younger generations, if this is the normality then what will they be like in an actual relationship? It effects their every day interactions too! Blatenly calling people daddy / mommy in mid day- that whole 'mommy- sorry- mommy- sorry...' tiktok trend is a perfect example of it. That shits embarrassing! It's uncomfortable and removes the whole part of 'concent' in the entirety of kink.

Forgive me that I go a little off topic but I firmly believe that this behaviour is part of a bigger picture. It shows the fandom interactions that dictate day to day life. The way that people talk to the actors, interact with the actors and voice actors in the game shows how fucked up this all is. There's no line between fan and artist. When it came to fanfiction in history there's always been that line. The shame, fear even, that always kept fandom seperate. Sure sometimes people would say what pairing or sexuality to the creator but nothing like we have today. For them to literally have to turn off chat because of what people are saying in a live stream is terrible! And I think it is directly linked to how normal and casual people online have become about these sort of things.

In terms of wanting to be degraded and CNC the entire thing is supposed to fantasy created in a safe environment. Sometimes it's not exactly something that someone can explain why, or go into the whole situation of mixing pain / pleasure. Yet people have lost that integral piece of the puzzle. It's fustrating and you don't have sex like that every single time?? They treat the most hardcore shit as your average Tuesday missing the preparation and communication that goes on.

To be honest, I'm probably one of the writers in the r6s that you dislike, I can't say I believe that I write either COD or R6S fully in character, even so, I can't imagie looking at COD characters and reducing them to this lack of safety careless playthings. People look a Price and, well, you can never tell someone sexual preferences but, they look at him and are like 'ah yes this man would have no regards to ones sexual safety' like ?????

When hes about to torture the butcher he makes is to clear for not only Gaz's boundaries but for Nik's aswell. No strings attached, their word is final and it's something I really appreciated as a player as well.

This man is constantly in danger having to deal with violence and torture and then people exspect him to come home and do what? The same thing on his partner? I can't imagine it, I genuinely don't think this man could stomach hurting his partner even in a safe BDSM way. It's the same with all these men in the military, why would they want to bring that home?

I'm not into König but I have played as him on the odd occasion in game and you can sort of get a feel for his personality. The shit people write about him is so incredibly out of character even with how little is defined by him. This man is the most nerdy character in the game. He so gives off the vibes that he's a massive gremlin with his voice lines and people look at that and are like 'ah yes he would treat me bad' Pardon me? He would have a fucking mental breakdown if he hurt his s/o.

Even Graves, the bastard he is, wouldn't do any of this shit. Sure he betrayed 141 but you can still tell he cares about his team, one of the things that makes him and the shadows such a compelling and enjoyable antagonist, is that he feels so human and realistic. When he starts to lose it and shout at them in Las Almas, you can tell he regrets it. You can tell in his voice that he's trying to keep it together and stay as that fun casual commander thing he has going on.

Admittedly I've used him for plot before but the people who hardcore simp for this man, how could you look at someone like that and thing he would rule the bedroom with an iron fist? The man who gets his employees to say 'yup-yup' instead of affirmative.

As someone who does write and does strive to make people as in character as possible, (admittedly with varing results) I just don't understand how people can go so far fetched. Whenever I've been given an prompt or whatever I'm constantly looking at intrections and lore that back up characters. A lot of stuff so many characters just wouldn't do. Daddy kink is the bane of my existence. Not because I don't enjoy it but because people assign it to everyone and in all honesty? Ive literally never met a man who's into it. Same with mommy.

In terms of characters across all the games I've played I think there's like maybe one character who I genuinely thought might be into it and that was Pagan Min from Farcry 4. Maybe Damon Salvatore from the Vampire Diaries.

Yeah you can never tell someones sexual preferences or what they do in the bedroom but you can at least try. Have lore or reasoning to back up your reasoning. Not this cluster fuck of general unhealthy, unrealistic glorified BDSM. It baffles me that people think that these characters would be even remotely comfortable with some of the stuff people wrote them to do.

What's the point of simping over a character if you're not actually wanting to be with the character?

At the bottom line, tiktok (and modern internet in general (it wasn't this bad until tiktok but it has been getting worse over the years)) has shown a bunch of adolescent people pictures of the COD characters. With the easy access and desensitization of kink this has created the effect we have today. I don't actually think any of the people who write this shit actually care about the characters. Their playing with the characters like dolls. A name and a face to an oc personality they have created in their head. Or even just taking tropes of people and applying them.

Your fustration is responsible and the way your expressing it is responsible aswell. This is your space. Your not hurting anyone, in fact your ability to recognise and create commentary on today's fandom scene is a positive rather than a negative.

Welp, there it is. You read it again. I dont think I actually need to say anything or reply to it. Everything has already been said in this ask can actually convey what I have been trying to say the past two days, what we have been trying to discuss the past two days. detailed and well put like a thread. I'm gonna tag COD so people can actually read and educate themselves about this matter and that it should not be taken lightly.

[gummybugg]

find the word tag!

tagged by @digitalsatyr23 here! havent done this tag in a bit, but i have more writing now so its not so difficult to find new words :'D

rules: find the words in your writing and paste a sample here

my words to find: wrong, find, dream, and cloud

(Wasn't sure if this post warrents a content warning, but it does reference suicidal ideation, dissociation, and kidnapping, so be aware.)

...

WRONG

(from my dormant wip the mice come out at night - morgana's pov/diary entry)

I was supposed to have died that day, I found myself thinking. But this thought wasn't out of scorn or hatred for the times I had made since then, it was a matter of fact. I didn't get what I had been promised, yet this time I wasn't so sure what I had expected at the time. Morgana then and now were two cherries separated at the stem. Our concept of what we thought we needed mirrored, the reflection a jarring contrast. "You must have the wrong guy," I found myself saying, cutting through my rampant thoughts. I highly doubted there was anything Vincent could be capable of lying to us about. Even if he decided to tell the others and not me, I was at least 99% certain Juniper would have spilled it by now.

FIND

(from my wip crater city - melony's pov)

Darcy looked down at his hands and the tears that fell into them. "I'm crying." He said, as if baffled by the phenomenon. His voice grew more distant, attempting to fade seamlessly into the background noise. "Look what you've made me do." "Darcy..." I began. "It feels warm and achy. But something is there. It's times like these that make me feel real. Feel human." "Darcy, you are human." "At this moment, I am. In the next few seconds, I won't be anymore. I hate it when emotions fade out of existence..." He sat at my desk with his face buried in his hands. It was customary for when his "mind checked out," as he used to say. "Your emotions don't go away. They're just hiding." He looked up at me with hollow eyes and a slack jaw. But they weren’t hollow because they were empty; they were hollow because they had yet to return. "They're just playing a game of hide and seek.” He grunted in agitated confusion. I sighed, picking up where I left off in the clutter. “Right now, sadness is 'it' and it's having a hard time finding the others. Hmm, I'd wager that anger is hiding in a prickly blackberry bush. Fear isn't always smart, so it's hiding clear-as-day behind a tree. Happiness is relaxing way up high in a tree..." I stood on my toes to prop the last textbook at the top of the shelf. The ridiculous analogy made Darcy chuckle. "It seems it found laughter first," I stuck out my tongue. Darcy came over to help, except my balance was a bit off and the book may have accidentally slipped from my fingers. It knocked him on the head before hitting the floor with a deafening belly flop. Instead of complaining about his head, his eyes lingered on the fallen book for a few extra seconds.

DREAM

Uhhhh none i think

CLOUD

(from my wip crater city - blair's pov)

I slapped the dented trunk of the sedan shut. The trunk was a briefcase from the show Steal or No Steal, and I was the pretty lady in red. But the look on Elijah’s face told me he was not fully convinced that this was the deal of a lifetime. He was starting to get on my nerves. He didn't know how to appreciate an offer of such high demand. It was honestly insulting. However, my TV show escapade was short-lived once I realized that he wasn’t going to let up. He was really upset, wasn't he? I could see it in his vacant stare: his soul had left his body. He took a step back, hands hovering cluelessly at his sides. “Uh, Elijah? What’s wrong, man?” I leaned against the creaky trunk, which snapped further shut, almost forfeiting my balance. It really needed more bungee cords, come to think if it. “This…this isn’t even one of the guys that harassed me.” “Come again?” Elijah was such a joker. “Blair…” The abstraction of my friend clutched my shoulders, causing the damp fabric to press into my skin. His hollow eyes sat constricted in their sockets, white about to burst in urgency. “It’s just some guy with green hair…” “Yeah, and…?” I raised a brow. Of course, he had green hair. What was he going on about? I saw a man with the same colored hair as one of the guys Elijah described, then I…wait, where did I even find this guy? I don’t even remember his face. And it would really be embarrassing to double-check by popping open the trunk. Had I really…? I searched the swirling green clouds for an answer. Then Elijah called my name and my wandering eyes found their way back to his.

...

gently tagging @asterhaze @ditzybitzyspider @forthesanityofsome @frostedlemonwriter @new-royston-cursebreakers and anyone else

rules: find the words in your writing and paste a sample here

your words to find: pull, back, away, and whenever

...

crater city mayhem taglist (dm to be added/removed): @writeouswriter @lyra-brie @digitalsatyr23 @talesfromtheunknowable

[steelycunt]

ten books 2 know me!

thank for you the tag @pancakehouse @fruity-individual @serethereal @rollercoasterwords !

-> skulduggery pleasant, derek landy.

starting with this one because this WAS my childhood i was. i never read percy jackson never read twilight read [redacted] and it wasnt even good but my dad thought id like these so he bought me the first skulduggery pleasant one day...oh man oh boy...these were. i was eight queuing up outside a whsmith with a schoolbag full of books for the author's booksigning...also he was so nice ta derek x

-> giovanni's room, james baldwin.

cannot get into this too much before i start wailing and biting and stuff but well. giovanni's room is my favourite book of all time i read most of it. last year in june laying on brighton beach while the sun was going down and i have never recovered from and will you bring me home again / yes. i'll bring you home again since and fear i never will. also! first james baldwin book i read who has come to be an author whose writing style i adore and carry in my mind whenever i try to write something myself.

-> young mungo, douglas stuart.

not the first book i ever cried at but. first book i ever experienced disgusting full body sobs while reading and fierce competitor also for. my favourite book. had to reread so much of those final pages because i couldnt concentrate with all the crying and after that i am so excited to never have to experience the physical chest-aching worry that i did for the duration of reading this. also i think the very quiet way love is written here through. very trivial small things is something i loved very much and that has stayed with me!

-> wuthering heights, emily bronte.

read this when i was about eleven, and then again a few weeks ago with my mum (whose favourite book it is) and it was still so. absolutely sickening i just think its excellent xx and without it we wouldn't have kate bush's 1978 single wuthering heights so xx think on that xx

-> the autobiography of malcom x, alex haley.

when i was a child my younger sister joined a sunday league football team and my dad used to give her a tenner every time she scored a goal. to even things out since i refused to get up at the arsecrack of dawn to contract hypothermia on a frozen football pitch, he started giving me books exclusively on malcolm x to read and would give me a tenner every time i finished one. this one was the first i read and was indeed the first book that ever made me cry at the end xx

-> my brilliant friend, elena ferrante.

so many of these are recent reads because it was only jan 2022 that i made a genuine effort to get back into reading for leisure and mbf is no different but well. the way friendship is written here is just unhinged and incredible and the series in general so far has been. there is nothing like it i fear

-> the raven boys, maggie steifvater.

gansey unfortunately.

-> macbeth, william shakespeare.

okay i know i know but. when you are studying it in englit class for your gcse it might as well be a book innit. anyway of all the texts i did for english both at gcse + a level macbeth is still my favourite and probably the most effort i ever put into an english essay. special shoutout to frankenstein which i can enjoy in hindsight but unfortunately it fucked me on the exam so out of bitterness it doesnt get a place here x

-> the secret history, donna tartt.

i did inhale this book but also it gets a place purely for being my first exposure to donna tartt's writing and style in general which is so very distinctive and has. undoubtedly had an effect on me for better or for worse we shall one day see but for now. who can say!

-> foster, claire keegan.

it is a little pamphlet of a book at eighty six pages but. i read it just over a month ago and havent properly stopped thinking about it since it was just everything quiet + mundane + understated that makes my brain start sparking and whirring and. im bringing it on holiday in the summer so i can read it again in the appropriate season xx

tagging. but no pressure. @gaewaren @dykefever @emerqldv @fastasyoucan1999 @forlorngarden @writteninverses @boyjoan !!

[happyendingsong]

5star thots <3

i had sooo much fun with the quarter final night, every match was banger after banger after banger and the crowd was eating it up and i was so excited with the final four.

and unfortunately the finals didn't live up to it for me ! mayu vs maika felt like it ended just as it was getting going which was a bummer, and saya vs hanan was hard to really get into because obviously saya would be going over and we had just seen this match a few days ago.

i wish there was one more big match on the card and not just filling time with anna jay and xena, hashtag hater hashtag the hater's temperment.

the god's eye vs neo genesis match was fun (love the spot of all five members of neo genesis in like a starburst formation crashing into their opp sat at the ring post, so cute). i love getting to build neo genesis's identity as a unit, but i was a little disappointed with this being the next beat in syuri's story after such an on-the-warpath 5star. the promo package for the goddess league used a clip of syuri and saki teaming together and if we get them as a tag team all will be forgiven. <3

hanan looking on during rina and hina's match was sooooo :( <33333

looooved the natsupoi/thekla moments during the cosmic angels vs h.a.t.e. match, woof. a lot of what thekla is doing doesnt fully work for me (like part of her h.a.t.e. manifesto calling out girls holding starbucks coffee cups. boo corny stupid boring fart sfx toilet swirl sfx. call the audience perverts again.) but with everything with natsupoi she brings SUCH great character work.

looove the energy ruaka and yuna are bringing too and i loved yuna getting her licks in! i feel like there's such a disparity between the cosmic angels that means tam/natsupoi/saori (the cule) and the cosmic angels that means all the others, like it's hard imagining them all standing in the same room and having a conversation, let alone being in the same faction and working towards the same goals. (which speaks to what theyre doing with tam being a shit leader, like it does seem like a conscious choice but i wish it manifested in some more friction or smth.) it was v sweet getting some interactions between yuna and poi and saori here at least!

i was really looking forward to the tora vs tam match, especially after the tag team match on the quarterfinal night where tam clocks that tora's knee is also in bits. the second she started targeting the knee, tora just fell apart and tam mocks her for it after, very smugly "we're not so different huh." and tora lashes back like "do not fucking compare us, you havent been through a fraction of what ive endured, ill show you when i finally rip your leg off this weekend" etc.

i loooove that angle. tam wrote that thread about how this 5star was about overcoming the fear she's had with wrestling since coming back from injury at the start of the year. having her knee brutalised again and again and getting these losses made her face that fear head on, and she's finally ready to hit play since time stopped with her match with tora last year.

and it's clear that tora is SO consumed by that fear, like that acl injury took a year and some change off her career and every time she gets an inch she loses all momentum. she's trying to consume tam with it too, she wants to inflict the worse thing that ever happened to her onto tam because she needs to leave her broken. tora offers her the title match not to have a match but to land the finishing blow and kill her herself. idk it's fascinating!! girl the neuroses the paranoia the projecting!!

and we'll see how all this plays out obviously, maybe they're cooking, but i really wanted tora to go over here u_u. i really want tora to be a credible threat and i think there are so many directions to go with this big bad leader of hate compelled by this really deep seated fear and bitterness. i really wanted to give that more time to grow and fester and spill its way into every fracture of the roster so that it'd be way more satisying when love/frindship/whatever eventually wins out.

i wanted tam to get swallowed up by this manifestation of her fear, by someone who was swallowed up themselves. if we're doing tam at rock bottom, lets fucking do tam at rock bottom like ! like having her lose here and have her scratch and claw to earn another title shot at the end of the year or whatever wouldve been so satisfying.

i was really really into the match until the interference stuff. and i loooove shitheel interfernce stuff but h.a.t.e. are always booked to be such fucking morons, this is so humiliatinggggg...... like tora getting the steel chair and hitting tam in the head, HELLO? this whole thing started with her chairing tam's knee, the whole point of this match is meant to be tora getting tam in a confined space to finally saw off the piece of thread holding her ligaments together. why isn't she using the first instance of the ref getting distracted to drop any pretence of this being a sports match to put tam in a saw trap. what's happening.

and oh my god im so sick of h.a.t.e. being used as these bumbling fools what the fuck are we doing...... literally lining up to trip over their own banana peels one by one. like the spot of konami accidentally spraying tora in the face and flailing her arms, then ruaka accidentally crashing into tora and flailing her arms too, MORTIFYING. i wanna be on board with h.a.t.e. sooooo badddddd there's so much fun to be had there but this is such a fucking farce like. can tam even be proud of a win here, like it's such a lose lose for everyone involved. poor tora, jesus christ.

i was pretty sour going into maika vs saya as a result and it took me a while to get into it, but they did kill it and they ended the night on a high note for me! loooooved the spot of maika holding onto saya's wrist and not letting her go as she hits her with the lariat again and again, and then saya doing the same with her kicks. wah.

saya's acting at the end was crazyyyyy, the crybaby heel shit is really really fab as a nod to the "i wanted to see you cry" thing. soppingest wettest meow meow fr.

love u maika <3333333 so glad she got her win here, i was really on edge after tam's win that they'd be going with saya instead but i think maika is still the right call. tam had been saying before maika lost the belt, smth like "bc i had to drop the belt due to injury, maika never got to experience taking the belt out of someone's grasp, someone who poured everything they are into that belt. ill show her what it's like from the other side when i take this belt from her." so there's obviously a lot of ground to build this feud on and they're gonna kill it etc

this is a chapter they never got to have the first time, and im glad they're getting to have it now, but i REALLY wish we were getting it months from now. it's such a shame to treat tora as a footnote in all of this when there's soooo much to be tapped from that. she had a long fucking reign in her! what's the point in pretending h.a.t.e. are this big threat putting the entire company on notice, the successors/dismantlers of both queen's quest and oedo tai, if they're so easily thwarted and forgotten. they're bumbling!!!!!

and with maika and tam, they've already set that match to be a couple weeks from now BOOOOOOOO. why are they so eager to burn through everything so quickly, chew your fucking food!!!!! like there's such an easy and fun plot beat to have in everyone who beat tam in the 5star rocking up to the ring like hello where are our title shots. and tam wanting this gauntlet challenge over a few months overcoming all these past losses from this year, like tam eats that shit up!!!! and then have her vs maika at queendom at the end of the year so there's actual momentum and intrigue in it.

idk this breakneck pace they're doing with everything makes it hard to get my teeth into anything, like it's hard to feel like the investment is gonna be worth the payoff. which sucks that im feeling like this after ive been so into the rest of the 5star! like having tam completely and immediately wipe out was so exciting, and i love how open the field felt for everyone.

it's a shame to end the 5star on a sour note, and maybe it'll be clear in a few months that this was all part of a bigger better plan. one can hope

but jesus christ they need to book h.a.t.e. better. babygirl tora you will always be famous.

[pizza-feverdream]

Wow these are actually good tag game questions. Gotta say reading through I agreed with a lot of your answers but I immediately forgot which ones lol

Here we go

1.) describe yourself through the eyes of a stranger? Scared looking or spaced out, quiet and maybe snippy (if stranger in particular is a customer)

2.) what is a quality you’d like to change about yourself? I wish I didn't get angry and mean when I'm overwhelmed, and I wish I didn't isolate myself instead of trying to make friends

3.) what is your worst potential fear for the future? That's I'll be chronically by myself. And that it'll be my fault for not having learned enough about how to be with people.

4.) which television series do you use as a form of escapism? I could watch Gravity Falls on repeat

5.) share a secret about yourself? I used to have a problem with maladaptive daydreaming, but then I learned I could write instead so I do that now. It feels healthier

6.) if you could choose any place in the world to visit, where would it be? why? I want to go back to Pennsylvania, for various reasons, but somewhere new? I wanna see what Canada is like. In the winter. Even though I'm 99% sure I'd hate it, I've seen snow about twice in my life, and I just want to see SO MUCH OF IT like in the movies? Idk

7.) what advice would you give your childhood self? Don't attach yourself to one person, and not try to interact with anyone else. Also, a lot of the time it feels like you've always been in a panicked, or depressed state, but you gotta remember that it's temporary and had a cause. You're not broken

8.) describe how you envision your ideal life partner? Just someone who is genuinely kind and loves me. Hope that's not too much to ask for

9.) what is your favorite environmental season? why? Winter. Cause that's the only time in Texas we have pleasant weather (60-70 degrees(or 15-20⁰, spiderlad)

10.) what’s one book you’d suggest every person should read? The giver series. Not everyone even knows its a series. It's very well-done, makes you think

11.) what is one song that’s able to bring you to tears? When love takes you in by steven Curtis Chapman. Havent listened to it in SEVERAL years, but that's something my mom used to play a lot and it hits me like a ton of bricks when I hear it in the wild.

12.) describe your best friend? :D Don't have one

13.) what was the premise of your last dream? I think I was at the dermatologist and she was looking at my head and telling me how dumb I was for coming in here, nothings wrong with you

14.) what’s your favorite warm beverage? Apple cider, next question

15.) name one musical album that greatly impacted your life? why? So just this year, I've made MAJOR leaps in like, differentiating myself from my family and figuring out what I like. This has included watching things like dhmis and toh and even anything on Cartoon Network that I previously wouldn't have thought to, or wouldn't have been allowed to watch. Thats also included branching out my musical tastes, and the first example of that was when I stumbled upon Jack Stauber earlier this year. It totally rewired my brain and I've been having so much fun finding things like that and discovering, Hey! I like this stuff! Me!

16.) what’s your favorite form of flattery? When I'll be rambling on (rare) about something I love and the other person is actually listening (extra rare)

17.) what’s your favorite painting? and describe how it makes you feel? I don't remember the artist, but did you happen to see the post circulating about the guy who's paintings looked like bad cgi or something? Those were cool

18.) describe your personal style? This is something else I'm just starting to learn about myself! Just... not enough to describe it yet! :D

19.) what was the last concept that inspired you? This is gonna sound really stupid, but seeing brother sister relationships in media, especially dramatic ones (think dipper and mabel or something similar) is making me want to, and kinda helping me, improve my relationship with MY brother.

20.) who was your very first artistic inspiration? I think the thing that finally REALLY got me into drawing was watching the Loud House, actually. It's not even a style I've ever used, but idk. Made me want to draw (also several different animation youtubers, you know which ones I'm talking about)

21.) how long have you used tumblr for? how has your style changed over the years? I got it this July lol

22.) what was your first cell phone? A little flip phone my mom had to buy minutes for off of cards. Well... is that a smartphone? If that doesn't count, then it was an IPhone 5s. I had that thing for years. It has all sorts of good pictures on it. It's in my room, but the screen is unresponsive, after the little boy I used to tutor went to toss it to me when we were playing online pool together, and it dropped on their concrete floor

23.) what is your favorite fruit flavor? Blackberry or cherry

24.) whom would you resurrect from the afterlife? which 3 questions would you ask them? I would love to meet Bob Ross. I don't want to ask him anything, just vibe

25.) if you could choose only one meal to eat for the remainder of your life, which would you choose? In all honesty, I'm very tired right now and this question is stumping me. Maybe I'll think of something tomorrow (she lied)

26.) which of the 7 deadly sins do you struggle with the most? and which the least? Most, envy. Least, sloth (mostly just cause I feel an all-encompassing, choking shame if I'm not being productive in some capacity)

27.) your latest obsession? and why? The song Mary on a Cross. I've heard it on tiktok ofc, but I actually LISTENED to it the other day and audibly said "oh, this is fantastic" I've listened to it at least 3x a day since. I'm not okay

28.) if you could domesticate any animal as your pet, which would you choose? A squirrel. That would be fun

29.) what’s your least favorite smell? So a couple years ago for my biology class we did a bunch of disections, but even those weren't as bad as the time in that class we blended up peas and mixed them with hand sanitizer. That was 3 years ago and it still haunts me.

30.) favorite mythological creature? and why? It's been a long long time since my pjo days, but I remember liking satyrs

31.) name a scene from a movie that makes you cringe? Anything family related, especially siblings. They CANNOT WILL NOT ever be able to replicate what that's like. It's impossible.

32.) favorite piece of memorabilia you own? I don't really have any? I made a Red Guy crochet little doll thing a while ago but idk if that counts

33.) your personal favorite oddity about yourself? One time a mutual told me in one of those "is the person you rb this from" polls that I was star coded, they said "cause she sees media she likes and NYOOOM she's off to go make fanart" and that has stuck with me

34.) favorite concert/show you’ve attended? I haven't been to any concerts, but when I was like 10 I went to see Frog and Toad the musical. That was fantastic (or I remember it being fantastic)

35.) what’s one thing you would tell to the last person who betrayed you? So far, luckily, no one had betrayed me, but there's someone who thinks they did, and I want him to know it's okay. Really.

36.) your favorite mantra to live by? Adam Savage said in Mythbusters one time "I reject your reality, and substitute my own!" Which I started saying as a joke, not actually taking a second to think about what it means. Then I thought about it, related it to mdd, got scared of it, then realized it didn't have to be about that. I still live by that, but now to me it means that yeah, the world is a shitty place, but I can make it nicer for myself.

37.) do you have any strange habits? When I come back from bringing a customer their food, I'll slap the little number tent thing against my hand, between my thumb and finger. Also, when I put socks on, if I don't turn the socks inside out and shake them off, and dust off my feet, my feet will feel dirty all day. Also I excessively flex my wrists when I get stressed.

38.) what’s your favorite white-noise to fall asleep to? I sleep with a powerful box fan every night, even in the winter

39.) what is your favorite gemstone? why? I've only seen a little bit if Steven Universe, but it made me look up what bismuth looks like irl and. I mean. Look

Wizard of Oz type shit. Lovely fantastic 10/10

40.) how do you choose to cope when you’re upset? I isolate myself, shut out sounds with headphones if possible, and if I feel up to it try to draw

41.) what are you currently trying to accomplish? I need to buy a car, and apply for a different job.

42.) what’s your favorite item you’ve purchased secondhand? I don't do a lot a thrifting, but I've found some decent things at goodwill

43.) describe your personality is only 3 words? Anxious, funny, tired

44.) how is your relationship with your parents? Very good, fortunately

48.) which animal would you be the most terrified to encounter? Polar bears. We watched a docu-series called Soemthjng Bit me. They're TERRIFYING

45.) an instrument you aspire to learn how to play? I don't actually see myself learning, but I used to play the piano and I would like to do that again

46.) relate yourself to one movie character? Paul blart, next question

47.) least favorite music genre? why? Country. You meet people who make it their whole personality down here and it sours it for me

49.) name a public figure you find to be overrated? why? Mr. Beast. I think he exploits people in low places for clout, under the guise of "charity"

50.) what purpose do you get out of using tumblr? It lets me connect to people when I otherwise never have the opportunity to

Let's see.. @mackthecheese @sebwritesstories it's a lot a lot so no pressure

50 Q’s

1.) describe yourself through the eyes of a stranger? 2.) what is a quality you’d like to change about yourself? 3.) what is your worst potential fear for the future? 4.) which television series do you use as a form of escapism? 5.) share a secret about yourself? 6.) if you could choose any place in the world to visit, where would it be? why? 7.) what advice would you give your childhood self? 8.) describe how you envision your ideal life partner? 9.) what is your favorite environmental season? why? 10.) what’s one book you’d suggest every person should read? 11.) what is one song that’s able to bring you to tears? 12.) describe your best friend? 13.) what was the premise of your last dream? 14.) what’s your favorite warm beverage? 15.) name one musical album that greatly impacted your life? why? 16.) what’s your favorite form of flattery? 17.) what’s your favorite painting? and describe how it makes you feel? 18.) describe your personal style? 19.) what was the last concept that inspired you? 20.) who was your very first artistic inspiration? 21.) how long have you used tumblr for? how has your style changed over the years? 22.) what was your first cell phone? 23.) what is your favorite fruit flavor? 24.) whom would you resurrect from the afterlife? which 3 questions would you ask them? 25.) if you could choose only one meal to eat for the remainder of your life, which would you choose? 26.) which of the 7 deadly sins do you struggle with the most? and which the least? 27.) your latest obsession? and why? 28.) if you could domesticate any animal as your pet, which would you choose? 29.) what’s your least favorite smell? 30.) favorite mythological creature? and why? 31.) name a scene from a movie that makes you cringe? 32.) favorite piece of memorabilia you own? 33.) your personal favorite oddity about yourself? 34.) favorite concert/show you’ve attended? 35.) what’s one thing you would tell to the last person who betrayed you? 36.) your favorite mantra to live by? 37.) do you have any strange habits? 38.) what’s your favorite white-noise to fall asleep to? 39.) what is your favorite gemstone? why? 40.) how do you choose to cope when you’re upset? 41.) what are you currently trying to accomplish? 42.) what’s your favorite item you’ve purchased secondhand? 43.) describe your personality is only 3 words? 44.) how is your relationship with your parents? 45.) an instrument you aspire to learn how to play? 46.) relate yourself to one movie character? 47.) least favorite music genre? why? 48.) which animal would you be the most terrified to encounter? 49.) name a public figure you find to be overrated? why? 50.) what purpose do you get out of using tumblr?

[jwirecs]

Do you have any nct poly fic recs??

helloo!! sorry this took a while! didnt really have a tag for poly aus for nct (which i should prob start doing) and i havent come across that many nct poly fics (hence as to why i dont have a tag for it). however, i did reblogged a few (of what i think are poly aus....)! i will put them down below

** EDIT NOTE: there are some non poly fics in here 😰 shouldve put this in here before posting just as a heads up to the writers 😭**

the poly aus that either state that its a poly au (from the author) or it gives off the vibe of a poly au:

under summer sky || @winestainedress-universe 

a stressful week of work leads johnny, yuta, taeyong and their girlfriend to have some fun. But Jaehyun doesn’t like to be left out at all, especially when he had been working all day, so when he finds out what happened a hot night of passion takes place under the summer sky of London.

backstage games || @ncteaxhoe

no summary but its pure smut

[8:39AM] || @nctsplug02

poly timestamp

the ones that arent poly aus but majority of the members have some sort of relationship to the oc (aka friendship, one or two are involved with the oc but not all members, or its like a ‘??? x OC’ type of au, or or its just complete mystery, etc...):

play date || @markresonates​ (does this count as a poly???? it’s an open relationship au...)

Haechan cancels your date when his friends unexpectedly come over to practice for a video game tournament. Recently you decided to be in an open relationship and suddenly they’re excited to spend more time with you.

halcyon || @lovely-sanie​​ (not complete, writer is on a hiatus)

Being a stray hybrid in South Korea is hard. It makes one distrustful of others, even one’s own kind. But everyone needs a helping hand sometimes.

the cam baby series || @smileysuh​ (this involves not just nct, but a bunch of other groups as well)

Interactive, your choice, cam girl universe, for thirsty kpop multi’s

the truth is rarely pure and never simple || @narika-a (writer is on hiatus)

Every rumor starts for a reason and a chance encounter at the bar one night might finally bring you to the source of it. But can you handle the truth?

black || @apollosfavv​ (not complete i believe, updated links: 1.5, 2, 2.5, 3)

Black is associated with power, fear, mystery, strength, authority, elegance, formality, death, evil, and aggression, authority, rebellion, and sophistication. Black is required for all other colors to have depth and variation of hue.

this entire masterlist || @multifandom-01 (writer is taking a break from posting)

not exactly a poly au, but you can read about the different relationship that the oc has with each member and each group (which i honestly like). like a friendship type of series

a fox’s innocence || @tastyykpop

no summary, is a request by authors anon!

[peeterparkr]

perennial;tom holland|final chapter.

chapter nineteen: perennial↳ meanings:  lasting or existing for a long or apparently infinite time; enduring or continually recurring..

chapter summary: a wedding, a storm and a question pairing: tom holland x y/n warnings: :) none I think, except I proof read it with covid so it might be messy word count: 11.5K

previous chapter   perennial masterlist.

perfidy  ( series masterlist)

it took me ages to write this, I am so sorry, I procrastinated this long enough because I didn't want to let go of it just yet. Thank you to every single one of you who read this and who is still here. I'm so sorry it took so long and I hope it was worth it. I loved this story and writing it was a true pleasure. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

Please help me out reblogging tags havent been working for me and I know this will flop but I’m really happy I finally finished this. Enjoy!!

“It’s Harry!” Y/N said as she saw curled wet hair,   from a distance, growing with the humidity. A tailor-made tuxedo walking with his arms hugging a bunch of umbrellas as he was trying to open James’ car trunk. 

Tom was as shocked as y/n was and thankfully forgot the flirting comment she thought she had stupidly said. That was a lie, he wouldn’t forget it. 

He couldn’t. And it wasn’t stupid. 

Because there was a door that could be opened. And it was easy to live with hope. Knowing he’d risk it all just to lose her again. 

She stopped the car as they both watched Harry. 

Tom hadn’t forgotten about the comment. Instead he kept replaying it in his head. 

Maybe it was more than he actually thought it was. Maybe it wasn’t. 

Tom had been different since the breakup. He realized he had to grow, for her, sure. But mostly for himself. He realized he was only kidding himself if he tried admitting that it wasn’t working. He knew that time was playing a joke on him. Sometimes it went too fast and some others, it stopped. 

He knew they both were the problem and the problem was that they… didn’t really see it. 

Although, he had tried moving on that is. Because at some point, and giving it quite a thought, he realized that his friendship with her had been the most valuable thing he’d earned. And though romance was never his lack, he knew he had to learn who he was with her in his life without wanting anything more than a smile. 

It was hard, however. Like cheating to his own heart. Broken hearts caused by oneself often are the most painful. 

How does one move on knowing both of you love each other? 

What even is love? If not a promise to stay or a promise to fight. 

How hard it is to keep away from a person who was once your everything. To control impulses. Hold hands to himself and not kiss a cheek. Hold back words. The urging impulse. 

He felt ready, yet there was something holding him back. Perhaps fear. Fear often shadows the light that love can give. 

Good thing he had his mind preoccupied. 

Harry was walking right to the place where they thought they would find him. 

Tom knew they would find him. And he was close to where Tom’s heart told him Harry would be. Near Harry’s first kiss with Emma. Near the park. A park that Harry and y/n had discovered, a quiet place for them to think. To talk. And later for Harry, apparently, to make out with Emma. 

Tom didn’t know how to explain it, but he had known he’d find him there. Outside that stupid shop. A shop that sold umbrellas, and raincoats only. 

Tom wouldn’t have guessed he’d be at that shop, but he had known he’d be at the cafe beside it. 

Escaping or not, Harry often tended to go to places where he found familiarity. 

Tom figured he had gone to the park or the cafe to come up with a solution. Or to soothe his mind, he understood marrying can be… scary. 

“How the fuck did we know he’d be here?” Y/N questioned. 

Maybe it was luck. Maybe both of them knew his brother. Maybe… 

Harry was under the rain, his hair falling down to his eyebrows. With umbrellas hanging from his fingers as some others slipped off him. Struggling. A caricature of someone who looked very familiar to Harry but who Tom didn’t recognize. He was in shambles. And of course he’d be. 

Y/n parked right behind him. 

“Harry!” Y/n yelled trying to get his attention as she jumped out of the car. The heavy rain making her heels click against the water. 

Harry only turned to her as he tried hugging the umbrellas. “Y/N? Tom? What are you doing here?” 

He sounded…conflicted yet relieved.

“We thought you had escaped! We were looking for you, you fucking moron!” Tom yelled at his brother as soon as he hopped out of the car. “What on earth are you doing?” 

The rain was heavy, annoyingly enough. Both y/n’s dress and Tom suit were nearly soaked within seconds. 

“I’m getting umbrellas! The wedding is outside!” Harry explained. “I saw the weather report and if you can’t fucking guess it from this, it’s raining!” 

“You’re not escaping?” Y/n questioned. 

Harry didn answer right away. Tom and y/n bared witness to the troubling thoughts Harry was currently having. 

“Harry?” Tom reinforced. 

“N-No-no! No!” He had stuttered. “I—I saw the weather report this morning, and I wanted to come up with a solution so I came to the park to think and then I wanted a tea to calm myself down and like bloody magic, this shop sells umbrellas!” Harry explained. 

It wasn’t magic though, it was because they were Harry and Emma. Of course there would be a bloody rain shop beside him. The universe plotted for them. Was this love? Having second thoughts? 

Tom and y/n turned to each other as if deciding to believe him or not. They decided to believe him for his own sake. Or ignore it, even though they both thought they’d found Tom’s brother in a very compromising position. 

“Bloody hell, Harry!” Tom exclaimed. “You scared us, fucking idiot.” 

But then again, who were Tom and y/n to judge? 

“Can we talk about that later? Help me get all of this and buy some more! I ran out of cash!” Harry said. 

Tom directed a glance at y/n. “Go back, I’ll get more. I’ll drive back in a bit.” 

He needed time. To think. As if to give the wedding the opportunity to humor him, besides, aren’t weddings supposed to engage romance and other activities? 

Y/N was hesitant at first but agreed as she drove away with Harry. She understood that it was Tom’s plan to get Harry back as soon as possible. 

It didn’t take Tom much. But it gave him time to think. About him. About her. Go over and over again the story yet once again.

Was their love ever enough if they barely knew what love was? 

There were regrets still. But there was more regret lately, for shutting up how he felt. For driving away from her. Fear of losing her. Completely. 

He had lost her so many times before and losing her now when he had something to latch on would be the one most painful thing. He didn’t want to ruin it by trying to hold on to something more. 

Love, as we know, is complicated. And to slow down when they once went beyond a speed limit was agonizing and disappointing. 

Because… what is love but being hurt when it ends? 

The rain fell heavier now, as if it was humoring him into his sadness and distress. His mind had not been the same since he had dared to open a drawer full of memories that he had forgotten why he had to keep them away. 

A drawer that held down her smell, that bottle of perfume that she often wore in her daily routine, that also kept her kiss with that red lipstick that she’d bought. A few nights with him were also kept there, a few polaroids, an old dvd and a journal that had the audacity to tell their story. 

Tom had gone through it and he was reminded of a script that he once read and broke his heart. But the journal told another story. As if it was the same one but from another perspective. A pretty one. 

With flowers, here and there. With the meaning  of flowers that he didn’t quite understand, the real ones and the ones she gave to them. 

Yellow flowers: often spreading joy. 

Was her journal… their love? 

He got the umbrellas. And wanted to believe his brother, had he really been concerned about that? Or was he really worried about the rain? 

Tom went to another shop to buy even more umbrellas, though he wanted to assume they’d have more at the hotel. He found an umbrella with yellow flowers, sunflowers. 

But it seemed there was a bigger storm awaiting for him. 

He kept thinking how he didn’t need much before, just her laughter echoing behind. 

The storm inside the hotel wasn’t as inviting. Apparently Emma had learned the news.

 “Emma? Are—are you there? Please let me explain myself.” Tom saw his brother against a door, defeated.

James, Clark and Sam were behind him. 

Y/N was at the end of the aisle, talking to Tim. Tom, although had tried to grow past the jealousy and although he knew Timmy was dating Lily he couldn’t help but wonder sometimes. 

Y/N had never truly forgotten about Tim, and Tim had never truly let go of her. And Tom knew they never would. 

Tom didn’t blame Tim anymore, how hard was y/n to move on from. 

Tom had gotten used to them, Tim and y/n. Because Tim had realized whatever he’d felt for y/n was less important than keeping her in his life. 

Tom needed advice on that matter. How does one ever move on from love? If that’s really what they felt. 

Did Tim ever love y/n? Did y/n ever love Tim? How would Tom know? How does one know when love is enough or if your love is supposed to last? 

Tom heard just a bit of the conversation. Emma believed Harry had escaped. But everyone kept saying the only thing that mattered in the end was that he was there.

 Emma was angry. Harry was regretful. 

But she listened. 

And then didn’t. 

“It’s not even you running away that bothers me,” Emma said. “We need to cancel it, Harry, everything is against us, always,” Emma said behind the door. “Don’t you think it’s a sign? We should call it off—“

“I don’t fucking care if there’s a storm, I love you and I want to marry you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you even if all the odds are against us.” Harry’s words resonated. 

Even if the odds were against them. 

How Harry managed to convince Emma that he hadn’t escaped was a mystery to Tom. 

He hadn’t quite listened to anything, not really. Or he had and simply decided he’d use it for his own advantage. 

Fight against odds. He should’ve. Probably. Was that love? 

Was love fighting against all odds? 

“Can I dry my hair in your room?” Y/N asked, bringing Tom back to his mind after a few scenes happened and Tom decided to ignore.  “And… re-do my makeup. And maybe shower?” 

Her room was shared with Emma, and though she would have it for herself that night as Emma would clearly not spend her wedding night with y/n, she was in need of another room. Because y/n, although a maid of honor, she needed to redo everything as the rain had almost ruined the masterpiece she had created before. 

Tom accepted. 

They both took a shower, separately,clearly, to avoid any other circumstances that might lead to a boulder in their path. 

Y/n said she didn’t want to catch a cold from the soaking rain. Tom said he felt he smelled. 

After he was finished, he watched her from the mirror in the bathroom as she sat on the bed, and it felt so natural. 

Very rutinary, how they were comfortable around each other enough. Tom was shirtless, only a towel around his waist as he was letting his shirt dry enough to attempt to iron it. She was wearing a hoodie she had borrowed while her dress was drying. 

“He did try to escape,” Y/N said, as she brushed her wet hair. 

Tom frowned. “He did?” 

“Yeah.” 

Harry had indeed tried to escape and although it made barely any sense to Tom, y/n explained how Harry was scared of odds being against him and Emma. How Harry had felt it as a sign, indeed, how the first time they got engaged their party was ruined, how when he’d realized his feelings she had left, how when they got back together their schedules went wrong, and how on their wedding day, ironically enough, it was raining. 

The universe telling them not to do it, he had said. But Harry had realized, how even if everything was against them, he still loved her and it was all that mattered. All that mattered was how they had overcome each rock thrown their way. 

“I guess,” y/n said, “we did have something to do with it. He said it, how he—“she cleared her throat. “You know, he did say something about being miserable if you don’t try at least.” 

Tom didn’t answer, he only stayed watching himself in the mirror. 

Yes, miserable. That’s the word. 

Silence filled the room once again, and there was barely anything to talk about. But it didn’t feel awkward, or wrong. 

Tom missed her silence, and not in the way that he didn’t like talking. He missed the way he could have silence and peace with her, and it was alright. 

Yet right now her silence meant his mind being loud, and he probably didn’t like that. 

She walked to his side picking up the hair drier, Tom should’ve and could’ve left but didn’t. 

“Hey, I’ve got to be honest with you,” Tom called out, hopeful she’d be able to listen to him even with the drier on. 

“Hm?” She crossed her sight with his reflection. 

Tom gulped, grabbing his toothbrush.

“Uh, the reason I’ve been avoiding you,” Tom started loud enough for her to hear him. “It… it was because I… well I opened your drawer,” he  said, getting the toothpaste out. 

Y/N turned off the hair drier. “What drawer?” 

Tom gulped. “The one you had at my place, your drawer.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, still some stuff there.” 

There was a silence as y/n looked into her makeup bag, breathing in slowly, as if trying to rearrange her thoughts. Tom tried to distract himself by brushing his teeth. But it wasn’t enough. His mind was going from the thought of the stupid drawer to the fact they were being them again. Sharing a mirror, while she did her makeup and he fixed himself. But now they weren’t kissing each other's cheeks or giving dirty looks. It was just them sharing a stupid space, not a momnet. 

“I thought I had… taken everything,” she said. 

Tom shook his head and hummed. 

“I’m… sorry, I’ll pick it up in a few days,” she nodded. 

“I found your notebook,” he said after spitting. “Your journal.” 

She instinctively handed him the towel to clean himself and then reached for his hair brush, meeting her hand with his. “Oh, sorry I was about to hand it to you.”  She still knew his routine. She cleared her throat. “My journal?” she chuckled. “Well it’s not really a journal it’s…” 

Tom leaned against the sink, staring at her reflection, directing a smirk. “You really are impressively cheesy,” he teased. 

She smiled, as she was cleaning off the ruined makeup. “I tend to be, yes.” 

“Pressed flowers?” He asked, remembering the notebook. Flowers pressed here and there, with pictures of them and a perfect memory of them. 

She scrunched her nose. “Yeah. 

“Writing the dates? Adding Polaroids,” he kept watching her as she was blushing, trying to focus on her makeup instead. He helped her get her hair off her face. Her eyes flickered as he did. 

“Look, I’m very cheesy and it was romantic and sweet in my head,” she explained, annoyed, as she started applying her makeup. Tom knew her, though, how she was annoyed when he took control of the situation. 

Although subtle touching had always been theirs, they had stopped for a while. 

“No, no, I get it,” he smiled to himself, gently nudging her.  “That’s just— I didn’t know about it.” 

She looked at a makeup brush, and tried focusing on herself. “Yeah I never…” She paused. “I mean it wasn’t a big deal, it was… you know, moments and such,” she whispered. 

Tom couldn’t hide it, so he tried walking away, hanging his shirt and bringing the steam press. “Right, that’s romance to you, the moment and everything.” 

Y/N was the one now watching him from the mirror. “Yeah, you know me, I'm ridiculous.” 

Tom met her gaze, “No, you, you really aren’t.” 

She took a heavy breath with her eyes speaking more than her words, maybe she was feeling it, too. How it was them. Her eyes were hopeful but scared. She shook her head. “Well, you can keep it or you can give it back to me, it’s okay.” 

Tom coughed. “I—that’s why I have been avoiding you,” he explained. “I dunno what to do with it.” 

Y/N spent a long time staring at the colors in her makeup palette. Tom stared at her, how much she’d changed. How much they both changed. 

“I hadn’t realized I gave you that many flowers,” Tom mentioned. He never seemed to realize how many times he’d just shown up with flowers. Yellow. Pink. Red. White. Blue. Flowers came to them like kisses. A flower was a kiss, and a flower led to a kiss. She’d give him flowers too. 

“Yeah.” 

There was silence. 

Tom really wanted to say more. He really believed that she was feeling it, too. He cleared his throat, turning to the clothes instead. “How does this…?” He stared at the steamer.

 “I have no idea how that works, don’t use it, you’ll end up burning it,” she admitted. “Didn’t you have another shirt? Didn’t you bring like three? And another suit?” 

“Yeah, but I liked this one and I gave the other to Harry.” He sighed and then walked to the closet, taking out two other shirts. He brought it back to the bathroom mirror, placing both on top of his chest. “Hm.” 

Y/N stopped applying whatever she was applying to her eye and stared. “Oh, the blue one. We’ll match,” she coughed. “I… No, we don’t have to…”  

“No, no, I like that, it’s the wedding theme…”Tom nodded, noticing her embarrassment. “Yeah, but… what suit?” 

“The one with the buttons?” She suggested. “You’ll look nice.” 

Tom took a deep breath staring at the options. “And when did you take all those Polaroids?” He wanted to meet her gaze again.

Was this love? 

She looked up. “Most of them were candid, I bet I could sell a few of those to some paps,” she chuckled. 

“Earn some cash,” he rolled his eyes. 

“I’d better keep them to myself,” she admitted, nonchalant. “I dunno when I took them, I found the time.” 

“Right… Yeah well I found it.” 

“The suit?” 

“The journal.” 

“Ah…. right,” she cleared her throat and finally met his gaze. 

Tom stuck his tongue out, “And I—had some sort of crisis because well.” 

Y/N stopped. “Yeah, it’s—Looking back at it…” She cleared her throat. “It’s still.” 

Tom chuckled, dryly. “Yeah, it’s just….” He gulped. “Interesting, and then looking at us now,” he smiled. “All decent and friendly.” 

Silencing himself, sure, decently and friendly. But not… good. 

“We were decent back then,” she stated, sarcastically. 

“I—yeah but I mean, we were really in love,” Tom mumbled. 

She looked down. “We were.” 

It hurt. “I’m...I’m going to change so, eyes over there,” he warned. 

She laughed, “You've been walking around in only a towel. I don’t really need to have a look.” 

Tom smirked, “Yes but it’s just a taste, I won’t give you a full meal.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t want to see it, actually.  I don’t need to, If I wanted to see you naked I’d only have to close my eyes, idiot, I can just imagine it.” 

He let out one single laugh, “Do you do that often?” He smirked. 

“No,” she answered simply but winked at him. 

Was she flirting? Tom had to only wonder. He didn’t believe she was. He knew firsthand how she flirted. This wasn’t it. 

He didn’t know if she had tried to sneak a peek, but he had walked back to her with the suit back on. She probably hadn’t. “Or… should I change the shirt?” 

Y/N smiled warmly, “No, you look very handsome,” she admitted adjusting the collar of his neck. 

He blushed, slightly. “At the end of the day, bringing back…. The previous conversation, I mean, we both know there was no one to blame.” 

She turned back to her makeup, almost done now. “Yeah, there’s no villain here, it would be useless trying to find one.” 

He took out two lotions and showed them both to her, as she pointed at her favorite. “I wasn’t right and you weren’t wrong but…” 

“Yeah you weren’t wrong and I wasn’t right either.” 

Tom knew he had to bring it up. “And… are we going to talk about last night?” He was nervous. The night before she had almost leaned over but he had panicked and backed away. “How you tried to—“

Y/N squinted her eyes, “I—sorry I yes—I’m very sorry, I got caught up in the moment and I was kinda drunk.” 

Of course. 

Tom coughed. “No, I—I understand.” But he wished he didn’t. Or he wished he hadn’t backed away. “I’m sorry for—“

“No! Don’t apologize! You did the right thing—I was just— I won’t do it again. I know we are friends and I want to remain friends because that way we both can be together,” she was saying mostly to herself. “As friends I mean. We can—yeah.” 

Tom watched her. He wanted her to try again but of course he would never mention it. “Yes and I well—I think we both, I don’t know, maybe it’s the wedding because—“was he going to tell her that he had also wanted that. 

How weird it had been, her getting drunk and claiming he had been ignoring her. Him accepting he had and that he would’ve called in the morning when they were more-sober. 

Y/N cleared her throat. “Yeah, yeah, weddings get everyone in a romantic mood ,” she confessed but then blushed. “No, no—I mean—It just—drives  everyone crazy and—“

Tom gulped. “Yeah… but uh, we-we are good right?” He was scared she was angry that he’d backed away but when it happened a million things had come to his head. Not that he had not wanted to kiss her but he didn’t want it to be that way. Not drunk again. Not after a night out when they’d regret it in the morning and blame it on the alcohol. No, he wanted something where they both wanted it. Not making up for anything. Just—a kiss because they both wanted it. 

Y/n nodded as she fixed her hair, nervously. “Yes of course, all good…. And I’m glad we had that conversation… While looking for Harry…” she reminded him. It had been a good conversation. She walked away to her dress. “Well, I think the dress is… not as cold and wet.” 

Tom followed after. It was… ruined. The once beautiful dress was partially ruined with rain and was stained with… what Tom would say was dirt, or mud. Just slightly at the bottom. “you should wear the hoodie,” he suggested. “It’s also blue.” 

She looked down at it, sky blue, it could techincally work, if it weren’t for the fact it was a wedding. “I know, right? It’s elegant.” 

Tom grinned. “no but… we could try using that steamer?” 

She looked at it, skeptically. “No,” she answered simply. “I’d rather catch a cold than ruin this dress… well.” She left to put it on. 

Tom was left alone with his thoughts, which didn’t help.He knew that the problem was that he technically could go after her. There was barely anything stopping him. Except for the fact that they were friends. 

“help me with the zipper, please?” She asked, walking over to him. 

This felt like love. 

He had to refrain himself from trying to kiss her neck so he decided to distract himself. “Don’t you think it’s crazy?” He asked as he zipped her up. “A wedding under the rain?” Without anticipating his movements his hands landed on her waist

“I think it’s crazier to drink cold coffee from yesterday,” she answered with a smirk, turning around. He kept his arms around her. 

Tom blushed, cackling softly. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”

Y/n grinned walking away from him, Tom took his hands back to himself. “I am not.” 

She looked for something in her bag, her jewelry. She walked back and handed him the necklace, Tom helped her with it. 

The ballerina. A ballerina he’d given her.

Tom gulped but didn’t mention anything. How could he? 

She had to take a deep breath as she felt his hands tracing against her skin. Tom noticed the sudden movement and slowed down. He got closer to see the tiny clip on it. His breath fanning against her neck. 

“You know it’s, funny,” he started, still barely an inch far away. “I was just thinking about it, that before I, well, I ever admitted out loud I had a crush on you I used to describe you as a cold cup of coffee that was left to sit for a day.” 

She turned to him as she was finishing with the earrings, they were too close and he didn’t take a step back, as she  now needed help to get her bracelet. “Oh?” 

Tom smirked with mischief as he wrapped the bracelet in her hand, bringing it close to his sight. “Yeah.” 

“And, now that you’ve tried it?” Her gaze was searching for his. “Does the description hold up?”

Tom knew it was his moment to shine. “Absolutely, yes, very disgusting.” 

She rolled her eyes as she nodded knowingly, “I’ll take notes of that, thank you, I’ll add it to my dating profile.” 

Tom didn’t like the sound of that. “Oh you’re—you’re on a dating app?” 

Y/N seemed to be the one to notice the reaction this time, Tom could see a sense of pride becoming her as she packed her makeup. “Oh no I was just joking.”

Tom saw the reflection in the mirror. He couldn’t tell if she was lying. “Right.” 

Y/N did the same thing Tom had before,bringing two perfume bottles for him to smell. One of them he recognized immediately. It was her date night perfume. Or the Tom perfume. He remembered smelling it every time they went out together. And the other one was new, but felt very her still. He’d probably recognized it too. 

He chose the second one so he would be able to keep it to himself..

“Yeah because it would be funny to add it to a dating profile,” she said as she sprayed the perfume on herself. 

“Yes very-funny yes yes I know,” Tom was getting nervous about the subject. Or the perfume. 

Probably both. “But I mean uh if you are then—uh—In a dating app I mean, good luck!” He walked away from her to check elsewhere, looking for his watch. 

“Yes, yeah yeah you too—but no I’m… I’m not,” she said. Y/N seemed to be left alone on the other side of the room and it seemed that she didn’t like it as she slowly followed after him. 

“Yeah you’re not—“Tom stated and then rethought it. “I don’t think you’d be one to be on a dating app.” 

Y/N smiled sweetly, “No, I… like meeting people organically.” 

Tom glanced at her. “Maybe you could find someone at the reception!” He suggested it and instantly regretted it. “Maybe Timmy Tim brought some friends!” He didn’t know why he kept talking. 

Y/N scrunched her nose.  “I know most of his friends, that would be weird.” 

Tom was trying to avoid her again. Knowing that minutes before he could’ve kissed her. But didn’t. “Right, but there’s more people ,right?” Repeating the word could distract her. 

Y/N wasn’t as eager with this conversation. She headed near the window watching the rain. “Maybe, yeah,” she hugged herself, “ what about you?”

“Oh I’m not—looking for anything I’m very busy.” 

She coughed. “Oh, yes, for sure.” 

He had been busy, which might have been one of the other thousand reasons why they’d broken up. One that they would easily admit. Both of them had been. 

Tom didn’t know where he wanted to go with it. “But I could be your… wingman tonight.” 

Y/N chuckled, turning back to him, crossing her arms. “My wingman?”

Tom let a wide smile spread across his face. “Yes.” 

“Huh, who would’ve thought, my ex is going to be my wingman.”

Tom shrugged and entertained. “Hey, who better to help you out than a guy who was deeply smitten with you?” He said, “ I’m going to really give a good word about you.” 

She rolled her eyes, “I can only imagine, please start with the coffee thing.” 

Tom blushed, as he searched for his belt. “Or I could go with the other one.”

Y/N followed to search for her shoes. “Oh?”

They both sat beside each other, so synchronized as they were putting on their shoes. “Yeah, I believe I also used to say you were like rain pouring down on your wedding day.” 

Y/N nodded understandingly. “Nice, you get to test out both of those.”

“Lucky me!” He grinned standing up. 

“And me, it’s really going to help me find someone if you’re going to tip me in with that.” 

“Absolutely,” he grinned. “But you’re doing all the work in that dress.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, embarrassed. “Well, shall we?” 

He offered an arm. “We shall.” 

She checked her phone. “James is texting me about how I need to go with Emma.” 

“I’ll escort you there.” 

“What a gentleman,” she grinned, not letting go of his arm. He didn’t mind. “I—I used to say that I’d rather have grounds in my coffee than to spend time with you, so you could add that to your dating profile.” 

“Hm, grounds in your coffee.”Tom chuckled. “What’s the verdict now?”

She scrunched her nose. “I—really hate grounds in my coffee.”

Tom sighed. “Oh.” 

“Yeah, I was wrong, so you could say you’re better than grounds in your coffee.” 

“Ah, excellent.” 

Tom finally was at peace with himself. He hadn’t talked about it much but he had always had that tinge of guilt every time he remembered ruining the engagement party, so finally being there was soothing. 

Like a reward, of sorts. 

The rain kept falling down, not as heavy as before. The bridesmaids would walk down the aisle while the best men were already there. Harry had asked Tom once if he wanted to walk in with them and they could change things up just so he got to walk in with y/n. Tom had declined the offer. 

Harry had never given up on them, he was the one to always assure Tom they’d be fine. He had understood the break and had encouraged it. Harry had told him this: “You and y/n started on hatred. If you both build a friendship and then build upon it, nothing will ever break you apart anymore.” 

But Harry wasn’t really thinking about Tom and y/n at the moment. 

He did think about y/n before, however. How funny fate is, how funny love is. How you think you love someone and then realize, you don’t. Or do, in a very different way. 

He found it funny how the ‘girl of his dreams’ had introduced him to the love of his life. Sometimes the unexpected is what you’ve been expecting for the most. 

It was funny. 

Walking down the aisle was funny to y/n, even as the rain fell down on her gown even under the umbrella. The bridesmaid making their way down the aisle as the rain sprinkled around them. Struggling to not slip and fall, and holding an umbrella that didn’t match her dress. 

Tom saw her, with that glowing smile she held, giggling as she walked down holding close to her umbrella. Knowingly, somehow. 

Most people were covering from it, colorful umbrellas Harry had gotten. 

Tom was already at the end, he had a blue umbrella, she’d chosen the yellow flowered one as he knew she would. 

A wedding under the rain. A wedding with people holding umbrellas, unexpectedly romantic. With the garden now puddled and dirty, and the flowers adorning the aisle falling down. A mess. 

Like Emma and Harry. 

A perfect mess. 

And that’s all y/n could think about. When her eyes crossed with his, there was a pain Tom hadn’t felt in a while. So stupid to let her go, how much time had he waited to lay down and have her head upon his heart. And he wished he had had only five minutes more, he should’ve kept fighting for that smile. So close yet so far to each other. 

It felt like a million years ago when they were laughing in his bed as he kept trying to guess the song she had thought of. A million years ago when they were dancing in her apartment to that song, from that one movie. With Tom Cruise… Top Gun? No. Mission Impossible? No. Jerry McGuire? No, no. Why was she thinking about Tom Cruise? 

Why was Tom Cruise the one thing not leaving her mind? The one distraction y/n had to forget about the other Tom. 

A scene from both of them was playing in his eyes, y/n could see, and although it was Emma who would be walking down the aisle as the gentle notes played behind, Tom was the one falling in love all over again. With y/n placing a vinyl on his record player while he wrapped his arms around her. Cooking in his kitchen, barefoot running around his place. Bubble baths that lasted until the water was cold. Laughs merging into one. Picnics at midnight, with cold pancakes or waffles they could a goose from, driving around the city when everyone was quiet and the only whispers they could hear were hers. Waking up by her side, and her asking for five more minutes to dream of that far away land. Even the fights, with both of them being irrational only to end with him pulling her from her waist to kiss her, making it all better. Polaroids and flowers. Polaroids of flowers. 

Y/N felt something too, and she didn’t understand what it was. Risky Business. That’s the movie. When Tom Cruise dances. 

Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about Tom either as their own film full all flowers played in the background. 

And though they both turned their eyes to Emma about to walk in, time had stopped for the both of them. 

How had they not fought against the odds? For that one film they wanted.

And though the film had ended up multiple times, they wanted to play it again. 

And it was a reminder, as everyone stood up as Emma was about to walk in, with her blue umbrella. With her impeccable makeup and her perfect hair. 

A wedding under the rain.

Y/N and Tom decided to break their stare and look at Harry, whose breath was taken away when he saw her, his one and only Emma, under the rain and against all odds about to walk to him. 

Y/n could see it in his eyes, how he had never wanted to escape, not really. What he’s done today was an act of pure courage, to get out of everyone’s talk and to get his own thoughts straight. Harry had escaped to tell himself that he was indeed in love with Emma, not that he needed a reminder of it, but as in an assurance. That’s why he’d gone to the park, his very first date with Emma had been there, and to that cage where they had shared a kiss, and though he had claimed to forget it, he’d gone to the place where he’d bought a raincoat for Emma that one time. 

Harry had searched for Emma and he had found her, and she was right in front of him. Harry had searched for Emma his whole life and she was right there. 

Emma took a deep breath and smiled, giving a smile that only Harry knew. A smile that Harry  owned. 

Gently, but suddenly abruptly at the same time, Emma decided to let the umbrella fall down to her side so the rain would cover her. 

Harry, at first, was intrigued and scared and confused. 

Emma gave him another reassuring smile as she took off her shoes, knowing they’d get dirty anyway. 

Harry then, dropped the umbrella as well, ignoring everyone’s looks as Emma proceeded to walk under the rain. Or… run to him. 

A wedding under the rain. A wedding that was clearly not supposed to happen, yet, it did, with the bride’s makeup getting messed up and the groom’s suit getting soaked. 

Against each and every odd, Emma ran to Harry who was at the end of the aisle waiting for her to jump into his arms. 

It was bittersweet for Tom and y/n, with their sight not leaving each other. Tom could’ve sworn he saw a single tear fall down her cheek.

As Emma and Harry stumbled down and then back again. 

The ceremony was magical, with people forgetting the rain was falling down. 

Harry and Emma were claiming their vows but Tom and y/n were still in their own world. Rude, probably, but they just couldn’t look away. 

“And I promise that I’ll keep getting umbrellas when the rain falls down,” Harry had said in his vows. 

“And I promise that against all odds, I will keep walking under the rain for you.” Emma had said in hers. 

Y/N looked sad, her eyes set on Tom as if asking him to get umbrellas so she could walk under the rain for him. And with a single look, Tom made her see, he would, either get umbrellas or walk under the rain if he was given one more chance. 

And for a minimal moment they both felt perennial, everlasting, with a single hope to bloom again once more. 

But then again, this wasn’t their moment and the wedding had to go on. 

Luckily, the reception was under a roof. 

Y/N had decided to sit with Tom a long time ago, when helping Emma with the sitting arrangement. ‘I want to sit with him, we are friends’. 

But Emma had told her that she’d be having another seat, with friends of theirs from college. A table where Tim and Lily would be sitting at. 

Y/N had known she’d end up with Tom, although for a month she had felt she wouldn’t. 

There was, however, no trace of the avoiding Tom right now. He’d offered her his jacket as she had walked in with him, her hand locked in his arm. 

A few laughs had been shared. The table consisted of James, Clark, Haz and Tuwaine and their girlfriends, Tom and her. 

It was obvious that Tom and her were distinctively different. Whispering to each other, giggling with inside jokes. 

The conversation had been about Emma only, and how lovely she looked and how incredible it was what she did. How romantic it was, to walk under the rain for the love of your life. 

The newlyweds had walked in. Love was in the air, and there were no other two souls in the world more perfect for each other than Harry and Emma. Their smiles were a reflection of the other’s happiness. They both knew that loving each other would be the easiest thing in the world. That no matter how many mountains they had to climb, they still had each other. 

Harry and Emma didn’t have to worry about someone ignoring them again, two wild flowers who found themselves. 

Their first dance was as lovely as it could be and the wedding continued to go smoothly. One of those cliché things could’ve happened, when Tom would only stare at y/n while she didn’t notice, instead they’d given each other one smile tha said: ‘Not right now’. 

They’d both wanted to hold on, but not too tight. 

The wedding continued, as it usually does. Because why would time ever stop for them? It hadn’t before. And it wouldn’t today. 

“Hey, everyone, I’m y/n.” That’s how y/n’s maid of honor speech started. With a few anecdotes for her two best friends. Fun stories first. Tom listened and laughed even when she made of of the first engagement party. 

“I think, you know, that’s their magic, even after our celebrity friend over here—well we know what happened. I think that’s truly their magic, how they’re able to fight against each and every storm, because they fight against it together,” y/n said. “ I always thought you both had it easy, how things just simply happened to you. How I always thought the universe plotted for you…How you both had magic on your side. But today, I realized, it hasn’t. Today, you taught me how you’ve been fighting against each odd, you know? Just defeat the storm, because that’s your magic, you guys don’t need the rainbow or the sunshine above. It’s—you guys, you who can walk under a rainstorm and find happiness under it because you’re together. You, who will go to the other side of the city to find an umbrella to match the wedding theme. And I really admire that. And neither of you take it for granted. Because the both of you know how incredible you both are, and I’m—I am happy to be the one who can take the credit for introducing you both to each other. You guys owe me,” she chuckled and smiled. 

She took a deep breath. “you both know what’s it like. And I know, I know I always make everything about flowers, or films or— but I just think you guys are flowers,” y/n smiled at them. “ You see, while I worked at the shop I learned about these kinds of flowers. Everything about them. How they hold meaning to each other, and sometimes without knowing it, we tell a story with flowers. I remember Harry always gave you daisies, Emma. Daisy flowers symbolize new beginnings and rebirth, in addition to love, and and—cheerfulness, and beauty, purity, innocence, hope, fun, and affection… and I think that’s the magic of you. Your innocence and beauty and how you are reborn each time.” 

Emma and Harry snuggled against each other. 

“There are—several kinds of flowers. Perennials, and annuals. Annuals simply bloom once and you have to replant them, and most relationships are meant to be like that. Just once… while perennials, they are— they bloom each spring. Everlasting. And they—Against all odds, after a hard cold winter season they bloom again. So I think you guys are perennial flowers, who found each other, and against all odds, keep blooming. So here’s to Harry, and Emma—our perennial flowers who will keep blooming against each and every odd as they showed us they can today.” 

Another few other speeches, Tom wouldn’t forget what she had said, against all odds. 

“Here you go,” Tom said sitting beside y/n and offering her her glass after they’d both come back from dancing along with a group and came back to catch their breath. 

She looked up with a tender smile. “Thank you.” 

Tom took a deep breath watching her, wondering if he was supposed to ask about it, what they’d both felt during the ceremony. 

Tom cleared his throat instead, “So, who do you fancy?”

“Hm?” Y/N looked up from her drink. 

“I’m your wingman for the night, remember?” 

“Ah, right.” She gave a look around the place, and landed her eyes back on him. “No one really has caught my eye.” 

Tom reached out to fix a lost strand of hair, making her blush. “Why not?”

She gave him a sheepish smile. “Dunno.” 

Tom tried ignoring it, looking away. He hadn’t noticed how close their hands were on the table, barely half an inch close. His sigh was too focused on the crowd. “How about Haz? Tuwaine?” He mentioned, turning back to his table as his friends were currently laughing at something. 

Y/N nudged him, rolling her eyes. “Lovely idea, my ex's best friends! Who both have dates.” 

Tom grinned at her. “They’re handsome.” 

“They are,” she turned to see them. “but I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

Tom hummed and turned around back to the crowds, she approached her chair.

 “Oh my God, that girl is trying to hit on Clark,” y/n whispered to his ear. 

Tom followed her gaze and snorted. “Man is wearing that and she thinks he’s straight?” His laugh was meant for her to hear only. “Five bucks that James will go and take away his husband,” Tom mumbled. 

“Oh, no, I’m not betting.” 

“Why not?” Tom frowned, looking back at her.

“Because—“She tilted her head back to the scene as James had come to wrap an arm around his husband. “James can’t stand the idea that Clark is undoubtedly the most handsome man here.” 

Tom side glanced, “Really?” 

“One hundredth percent, yes,” she snickered as she watched him, her eyes sparkled watching him. “Too bad he’s gay, and not bi, I would’ve already tried stealing him from James if it wasn’t for that.” 

Tom grimaced, “uh-huh.” 

“Yeah,” she teased, subtly resting her hand on his shoulder. “I would’ve asked for your help. ” 

Tom without thinking about it, reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. He knew what it meant. But was it only the wedding or were they really ready? 

“My help?” 

“Yes, You know a thing or two about stealing your siblings love interest,” she smirked. 

Tom opened his mouth in shock, “you’re fucking done.” 

She slightly pushed him away. “Am I wrong?”

This felt like love, laughing with her. He leaned slightly, jokingly frowning and letting go of her hand. “You’re being really rude to your wingman. I’m not helping you anymore.” 

She leaned over, wrapping her arms around him, “please, no, help me out.” 

Tom made the mistake of looking into her eyes, quickly trying to get away from her. 

“Hm let’s see who else, uh I see Ben over there, you see him?” he pointed at a close friend of theirs. “Ben is that handsome guy, he is a business man now, very important, want me to introduce you?”

Y/N laughed. “I know Ben,” she clarified. “you do realize I know most people here, right? Especially Ben,  I’ve seen Ben try to open a beer bottle with his teeth• 

“And you don’t find that attractive?” Tom teased. 

She sighed. “I do, but i think he’s way out of my league because of that.” 

Tom slapped his knee, “Yes he definitely is, he really is a catch,” he laughed. “But okay give me something to work here.” 

“I…” She scrunched her nose. “I…sorry, I—guess I haven’t moved on from my previous love interest.” 

Tom cleared his throat. He started to sweat. 

“How can I?” She continued. “I mean look at her,” she pointed at Emma. “I despise your brother for stealing her from me. I should be the one marrying her, she’s stunning 

Tom forced a laugh. “Ah, yes.” 

“So sad, but I guess I can live with it,” Y/N said. 

Tom followed her gaze, Harry and Emma giggling against each other, with Harry covering her with a blanket. Both of them with their hair messed up from the rain still, poking their wedding cake and poking each other. 

Tom groaned. “They are disgustingly adorable.” 

Y/N laughed. “Truly, their love is an aberration from its cuteness,” she faked disgust. 

“The way they look at each other, truly an offence.” 

Y/N took a deep breath. “Yeah.” 

“They really don’t care about the world around them,” Tom pointed out and turned back to y/n, now her gaze away from them. 

“They don’t have to, they’re soulmates,” she reminded him with a smile. 

“I thought you didn’t believe in those,” Tom pointed out. 

She took a deep breath. “I do, I don’t, I…I dunno, but they’re the closest thing to it, just the way that they grew past the storm, they literally….” She threw her hands in the air. “They literally walked under a storm to marry each other and they….” As if she was still trying to believe it. “and how even if her flowers were ruined or her dress… and everything… she didn’t mind because he was there, you know? That’s romance.” 

Tom smiled. “It really is, let’s find you that.” 

Y/N was shocked. “Hm?” 

“I’m your wingman,” he reminded her. “Let’s get you a date.” 

She rolled her eyes, laughing desperately. “Why are you so desperate to find me a date?” 

Tom shrugged. “I want that for you, whatever Harry and Emma have.” 

She licked her lips watching the couple drunkenly head to the dancefloor. “I used to have it.” 

Tom looked up. “Right, with Emma.” 

There was a knowing silence. Both of them watching people dance, people from their past, people from their present and mabe from the future. 

“Hm how about Peter?” Tom asked after a while. 

“Hm, Peter is cute I guess,” she agreed. 

“Huh, didn’t see him as your type,” Tom frowned slightly. No, it wasn’t jealousy. Or was it? Could he really be hurt about a stupid comment from a girl he’d been broken up with for a year now. It was stupid. 

“He’s not but that’s worked out before,” she chuckled. 

Tom pursed his lips and then smirked. “Or… That guy over there, he’s my Uncle Paul, he is very fun, he actually loves the same music as you do, no surprise since he lived in that era, he is a fan of strawberry muffins and-” 

“And old.” 

“Ah, what’s 60 years of difference, it’s nothing these days, y/n.” 

“What’s his sign, then?” She asked. 

“A capricorn, see? He is a catch y/n, I could set  you up,” Tom smirked. 

She laughed. “No, as big of a catch he is I think his wife would be bothered by it.” 

“Psh, I’m sure my aunt Petunia wouldn’t mind,” Tom said, laughing. “No, no, come on, I’ll get you and Peter talking but first, let’s dance.” 

Tom did what any insane ex boyfriend would do and with all the pain in his heart. He danced with her. And there was that feeling again, as they both approached each other, when his head rested on her shoulder as they swayed around.

“I really liked your speech,” Tom said. 

“It was improv,” she confessed. “I liked yours better, had more comedy to it.” 

He held her close. “You really admire that from them, huh?” 

“Jealous of how they managed to get through it? Yes. I’m jealous, honestly. How they didn’t give up.” 

Tom sighed. “They did, at some point.” 

“I guess, but not this—, you know?” 

“Yeah, but they’re them.” 

“And we’re us.” 

Tim watched Tom and y/n from a distance. Tim had gotten his own closure. 

It seemed that Tom didn’t and Tim was perfectly aware of it. It was sad. 

Very sad to see how the guy had blew it up. Bad kept blowing it up. 

They were yearning for each other. Dancing, laughing at first, more serious now. Tom swirling her around, letting her head fall down with grace, debuting their own kind of silly dances. Y/N laughing and looking into his eyes. 

And Tim could tell y/n missed him. She had confessed it to Tim, how she was scared that she’d blown up every significant relationship she’d ever had when it came to the point of getting somewhere. How she had pushed everyone she loved away. 

Y/N had those kind of eyes that Tim knew. Y/N was begging to be loved. How stupid of Tom, Timothee thought, to have someone like her beg for his love. 

And he could see it from there, how she was holding on to Tom as if she never wanted to let him go. 

Yet she did, and Tom, stupidly had introduced her to Peter, one of Tom’s friends. Tim could tell that neither Tom nor y/n wanted this. 

But there he went, Tom had so easily handed y/n to Peter, as if trying to make Peter get y/n out of his mind. 

Tim watched Tom. Wondering if Tom would find his Lily, too. Or if y/n was supposed to be his endgame. 

Tim disagreed with Tom, mostly because he hadn’t fought for y/n this last time. Tim knew they’d simply just… broken up. But it had come way before that. Tim had slowly seen both of them give up. It was sad to see them both run out of excuses. 

Tim thought initially y/n was tired from dragging her problems, and although they’d promised to take about it, they both ended up ignoring them. 

Though, Tim did see how their friendship worked. And it was a true friendship, even if they both had to look away and take a deep breath each time they walked into the room. 

Tim knew that they’d solved all their “marital” problems when apart. They’d talked about it, because they didn’t have the pressure of the relationship. 

And so it was formed, and although y/n had always claimed she was happy, it had been the night before when y/n had drunkenly knocked on his door to tell how much she missed Tom as something else. 

How tired was she of giving him signals and him ignoring them, or avoiding them. That she knew they were friends, but that she was still deeply and even more now insanely in love with him. 

Tim knew Tom was too, but Tom was an idiot. 

Tom’s eyes were glued on the dancing y/n. Peter and her swirling on the dance floor as she would only smile. Tom didn’t look away, he wasn’t jealous. One, because he couldn’t be, she was just a friend enjoying herself and two, because he knew he had nothing to worry about. Peter and her were only dancing. 

But Tom felt wrong. He really missed dancing with her. Really dancing and having it mean something. Because now whatever they did didn’t mean anything, it couldn’t. But Tom smiled, his eyes beaming as he saw her, as usual, with a dress that may have been chosen by Emma but she’d made hers. 

Tom didn’t miss, however, that feeling that anyone in the room was looking at her and feeling like someone could steal her, so easily. Tom’s infatuation had led him to always anticipate how he’d feel when she’d walk in, blushing, flushed. He had become familiar with it, hiding his emotions. He was really good at hiding, no matter if his anticipation was far from it. Just when he thought he’d control himself, he’d always be stung. How incredible it was, how someone like her still had him wrapped around her finger. Someone so different from him, with her flowers and vinyls and her aesthetic, and her wild mind, always running away from him. 

He knew she had dated, but he didn’t want to know who and he didn’t care. He wondered if she’d felt the same way, like no one could ever make her feel the way he could. Because he believed that, no one would ever make him feel the way she did. Good and bad. As if emotions were just dialed up. And that now that he knew her, he didn’t need to know anyone else. Learning about anyone else wasn’t as exciting. 

Tom had once thought about it, having her for one weekend. He wished he could come back just for a weekend, to have her smile and know he was the reason for it. He knew he eventually would break down for it, all roads eventually lead to her. Maybe he could tell her that he still felt the same for her, did she feel the same? To think they once owned the world. Maybe asking to rule the world was too much.  

And he didn’t want a weekend as a one night stand, but he wished for a weekend, only a weekend would suffice. But would it? 

He had to behave now. They weren’t alone anymore. 

Tom then feared as he saw y/n throwing her head back laughing. He feared Peter would find out how amazing y/n was. He feared y/n would find out that she could laugh with other people too. 

Tom had to stand up, to get a drink if he was going to keep dealing with this. He didn’t wait for someone to come ask him, he headed to the bar directly. Gin and tonic, just to pity himself and his lack of courage. 

“You’re an idiot,” someone had said behind Tom. 

Tom, taking the first sip of his drink and trying not to choke turned to face Timothee. “I thought we were past our discourtesy.” 

Tim shook his head, “We are, I’m telling you as a friend or… whatever we are.” 

Tom shrugged, “Acquaintances.” 

Tim tilted his head, ordering a drink, “Fair enough.” 

“Or members of the same club,” Tom nodded. 

Tim chuckled, “It hurts, doesn’t it.” 

Tom took a deep breath, watching her. “Yeah, a bit,” he lied. “But I’m happy with…. Our friendship.”

Tom downed his drink and ordered another one. 

“Careful,” Tim warned, “we both know what alcohol and an Emma and Harry party do to you.” 

Tom laughed. “I already gave my speech so we need not to worry.” 

They remained quiet, Tom still watching y/n. 

Tim shook his head. “I’ll never understand what went wrong with both of you.” 

“Too much history can kill you,” Tom shrugged. 

“No,” Tim said simply. “I think you’re just an idiot.” 

“That I am,” Tom agreed. 

“I’ve kept seeing you both, she is hinting it and you back away.” 

Tom coughed. “We are friends.”

“Yeah, keep believing that bullshit.” 

Tom rolled his eyes. “We, on the other hand, are not, Timmy.” 

Tim grinned. “Do you still love her?”

“She’s my friend.”

Tim pointed his drink at Tom. “I didn’t ask that.” “I—“

“Do you?” 

Tom was in the spotlight, but now the drink on his hand was speaking for him. “Well yes I do love her I just—I tried okay? Moving on and I thought I’d magically wake up one day and I wouldn’t love her anymore but—“

“That shit doesn’t happen.”

“Yeah, yeah, that shit doesn’t happen,” Tom agreed..lAnd I don’t want to be this miserable idiot that wakes up everyday waiting for her—“ 

Tim shrugged. “I was that idiot for a while.”

“How the fuck did you do it?” Tom questioned. “Because I can’t—it hurts so fucking much.” 

“I never stopped trying,” Tim said. “You did.” 

“And where did that lead you?” Tom rolled his eyes. 

Timothee smiled, genuinely. “I met Lily. It seems like y/n has this magic of introducing you to the love of your life. She did with me, with Harry, and Emma of course, I think even with Sam, right?”

“So I have to make her introduce me to someone else.” 

“No, no, that would be very fucking stupid from you,” Tim snapped.

“Then what?”

“Don’t be a fucking idiot,” Tim begged Tom. “Can’t you see it? She never fought for me, or for Harry. Yet she fought for you, and you should fight for her, you are meant for each other.” 

Tom sighed. “No. She doesn’t want that.” 

Tim watch with irony and not believing what he was hearing. “You kidding, right?” 

“I would love that,” Tom was exasperated by him. “But what I would love right now is to move on, how did you?” 

“She loves you, that’s how I moved on, she loves you. And she will never fucking stop loving you.” 

Tom sighed. “She deserves better. Someone who hasn’t hurt her—someone like Peter.” 

“Maybe, but she wants you,” Tim was as stressed now. “And you’re so stupid because you want her, too. Love is not about fucking deserving, it’s about being fucking brave.  You’ve lost her before. You’ve always acted like it’s your last chance and life keeps pulling you back together as if you had fucking magnets for each other, for once let it pull you and don’t fuck it up..”

“How do you know she wants me?” 

Tim was strong and he thanked he was strong because otherwise he would’ve murdered the man standing in front of him. 

He took a deep breath. “She told me just last night, how she can’t deal with it anymore how she wants to risk a goodbye just to get close to you.” 

Tom only sighed. 

“I’m serious, man. Really think about it,” Tim warned him. “I only moved on because I knew she’d be the happiest with you. And I had to live with it, and— then it grew into me, and I swear, it was… easy, because I could tell she was happy with you. And she truly was her best when she was with you. And—then.” 

“I didn’t blow it up, not—by myself, at least….it was a mutual breakup, you know? And neither of us wanted it, not really.” 

“Perhaps not. But you’re blowing it up right now, so I would go for her—“Tim stopped himself. “Oh but , word of advice,” Tim said just as he was about to go. “It’s y/n we are talking about, don’t just get drunk and sleep with her after you tell how you feel about her.

“Ah, there goes my plan,” Tom rolled his eyes. 

“No, just—do whatever you do that charms her, as usual.” 

It felt like the one thing Tom needed to hear. It was as if Tim was giving him his blessing. Not that Tom needed it but it was nice to have. He new he had his blessing from everyone. 

And he kept watching y/n dance from a distance, he smiled watching her struggling with Peter and his tremendous dance moves.

Tom at that moment decided something. He loved seeing y/n happy and she seemed to be happy at that precise moment. 

Y/N on the other hand had decided things for herself. She had changed throughout these years and she still wondered if she’d donde the right thing. One doesn’t suddentl fall for their enemy one night because they weren’t really the enemy. 

Dancing that night y/n realized he never truly was an enemy, an enemy is usually a stranger and he’d never been one to her heart. 

She did regret they couldn’t dance as much as she wanted to but she didn’t regret that night either. 

It was funny how everything was setting in front of them, like an old dvd or a on journal or a worn out script. 

That one night after the wedding, they had ended up together, but not in the sense that one would have thought they would. 

They spent the night laughing with each other, bringing out an old script and scratching things and rewriting. Going through the very journal Tom had found in his drawer and realizing that they were neither the script with ugly undertones or the journal with a pink gaze. 

Their love wasn’t like Harry’s umbrellas and their love wasn’t like Emma’s brave act. Their love wasn’t Tim’s film canister or Cherry’s flowers. 

Their love was theirs and though they were not seeing it that night, they both knew they owned it. 

“What is love to you?” Tom had asked. “I think Harry and Emma made me doubt my meaning of it.” 

“They know what it is.” 

“So what is love to you?” He asked again. 

“When?” She asked. 

“When?” 

“What love is depends on when,” y/n explained. “Love can be anything. It could be a rose in Rome, a stolen peony in New York or a meaningful yellow daffodil in Los Angeles.” 

“Flowers then.” Tom laughed. 

“It can also be a ballerina necklace, or a fight, or depends on the time.” 

“Well—“

“It can also be my favorite film, you know? Dirty Dancing, or it can be dancing for your movie. It can be red wine and homemade pasta, or it could be cold pancakes in a tree house.” 

Tom just watched her. 

“I think love finds its way to be, you know? Love can be walking under a storm or buying umbrellas.” 

“What is love now, then?” 

“I dunno, for the moment I really don’t know.” 

Days went by after that one night, y/n had caught a terrible cold from the wedding.

Y/N had gone back to her apartment and the sun was bursting through the curtains on that one very day. She’d opened the window to listen to the singing birds,  she could smell the rain from the day before and she was feeling better. The sun had found it’s way out. 

She decided to go out, to forget the one night that had gone through her mind. She’d texted Timmy asking if she should text Tom and there was a hint of disappointment on Timmy when he’d learned Tom hadn’t called her. 

Was y/n really trying to forget the night or maybe trying to remember it forever. How funny life is, isn’t it? 

What was love? She had to keep thinking about it. 

She bought a flower and the streets were colorless, the city was busy and everyone was just bursting and talking through their phones, but she was quiet, because she was looking at the sun. The sunflower and her were kissed by the very last ray of sunshine. 

Was love this sunflower? 

No, love should’ve meant staying. 

She knew the sun would go away soon, it would rain again. So she’d go home and pity herself.it would be an evening when she didn’t want to go out . Cozy with that big blue sweatshirt she’s stolen from Tom from that wedding day.

 Love should be kissing the night before the wedding. 

She thought about binging through a netflix show as the sun would yawn. 

Love should have been kissing on the cheek while zipping up a dress. 

She’d lost all hope. She felt it, with that cold cup of tea in her hands, as she was staring at the window, watching as the night slowly dawns its way dark, and shed lost her hope, she didn’t know what love was. 

Had she not known it her whole life? Was love… never what she thought it was? 

She had popcorn microwaving, and a pot for her tea waiting. Rain was splattering against her window, a storm was only making her lose the track of thought that would lead her to know what love is. 

This wasn’t love. Love would’ve meant calling. Love would've meant showing up. Love—

Her phone was ringing, and her house was chaos. Adding to it, the thunders clapped. The movie was playing and everything, everything was going crazy. 

Someone rang the door, probably the pizza, but the chaos was too loud. She could keep up with it.  She needed the answer to her question first. What was love? 

And the phone kept ringing, and the pot was whistling now, and the thunder kept clapping. 

Was love calling? 

She needed the answer, what was love? Was it flowers and Polaroids? Was it sleepless nights in New York and fights in LA? Was it walking under the rain in London? 

But suddenly, as she found herself opening the door. She knew it, she’d always know what love was. 

And love was soaking and shaking from the rain holding a soaked yellow sunflower  flower with a soaked shoe box that once meant love. 

Love had a promise to be perennial, everlasting and bloom against the odds. 

And she knew the answer then…

Love was… them.

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