#so when i got told AGAIN that i needed to pick things up

[sh4nksslvt]

Espionage and Eavesdropping

You just wanted to surprise your Yonko boyfriend with something sweet. Shanks, however, misunderstands everything and thinks you're hiding a lover aboard.

shanks x reader | ONE SHOT

tags: fluff, sfw, chaotic

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ff a bit cringe, akward, and confusing

word count: 1k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

You should’ve known better than to try anything secretive on a ship full of pirates with nothing better to do.

But here you were, crouched behind a stack of rum barrels in the ship’s lower deck, notebook clutched in one hand, whispering into a den den mushi like you were planning a military coup.

“I just need it by Thursday,” you hissed. “And don’t forget the edible glitter! It has to sparkle like Shanks’s ego.”

The den den mushi blinked at you slowly, mimicking your furrowed brows. “Sparkle. Got it. Any other unreasonable demands?”

“Make it look dangerously romantic, but also incredibly cool.”

“Sounds like you want a wedding cake without the wedding.”

You paused. “…Don’t say that out loud. He’ll hear it and assume I’m trying to marry someone else.”

And two decks above you, curled beneath a conveniently placed hammock and eavesdropping like a man twice his age, Shanks the Red-Haired Yonko of the Sea, whispered into his own den den mushi.

“I think they’re marrying someone else.”

“What?” Benn Beckman’s voice was dry.

“I just heard them say ‘don’t say that out loud, he’ll think I’m marrying someone else.’ That’s exactly what someone who’s definitely hiding an affair says, right?!”

“Shanks—”

“I KNEW they were too beautiful to be loyal.”

“You’re the most dramatic man on this ship.”

“I’m going to fake my own death and see if they cry.”

The misunderstanding began three days ago, when you asked Lucky Roux to quietly sneak into town and pick up something discreet and delicate. You’d given him a long list with unnecessary glitter stars and bold underlines, swore him to secrecy, and told him, “Tell no one. Especially Shanks. Not even if he’s dying. Especially not if he’s dying.”

Unfortunately, someone else heard that.

And Shanks? He took it personally.

Now you were organizing a surprise celebration for his birthday (which he had claimed he didn’t care about, like a liar), enlisting crew members with the stealth of a sea cat, and every time Shanks looked at you, you panicked like a criminal caught red-handed.

So of course he thought something was going on.

You’d whisper to Yasopp, run away from Hongo, disappear for hours, and dodge Shanks with the finesse of someone avoiding a breakup talk. He started following you in secret, wearing a cape and fake mustache, hiding behind crates that were nowhere near his size.

Benn walked past him one day and muttered, “This is why we can’t have normal relationships.”

Day Four.

You were on the main deck, whispering into your notebook.

“Benn’s distracting him with fake wine. Hongo’s handling the fireproof sparklers. Yasopp is swearing on his son’s life not to tell. I just need to—”

“—tell me who you’re seeing.”

You jumped so hard you nearly tossed the notebook overboard.

“Shanks! What the hell—how did you sneak up on me like that?!”

He was squinting suspiciously, arm on his hip, shirt loose, and hair windblown in a way that made him look far too attractive to be pulling this level of paranoid nonsense.

“I have connections,” he said ominously.

“Okay?”

“Lucky Roux saw you give a note to a pigeon.”

“First of all, it was a cake-ordering pigeon, and second—wait, that’s not the point. What?”

“You’ve been sneaking around. Whispering into things. Saying suspicious phrases like ‘don’t tell Shanks even if he’s dying.’ What am I supposed to think?!”

“That I’m planning something nice?”

“That you’re cheating!”

You blinked. Then blinked again.

“…Cheating? Shanks. Darling. Love of my life. Who on this ship could I possibly be cheating on you with?!”

He pointed dramatically toward the horizon. “Someone from another crew! A beautiful stranger with a strong jawline and a charming laugh—”

“That’s literally you.”

“Wait. Is this a reverse surprise? Am I the stranger?!”

“No!” you laughed, smacking his chest. “I’m planning a surprise party for you, you idiot!”

“…Oh.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Did you… spy on me?”

Shanks hesitated. Then lifted one leg onto a crate like a theater actor mid-monologue. “I’ll have you know I was on a noble quest for truth, love, and the prevention of heartbreak.”

“You wore a mustache and tried to climb the rigging, didn’t you.”

He coughed. “Irrelevant.”

You groaned, laughing despite yourself. “Unbelievable. You thought I was cheating, so you started counter-spying?”

He nodded solemnly. “It was a matter of pride. Also, Benn said if I was wrong, I owed him all my sake.”

“…And were you wrong?”

Shanks looked at you. Then at the crew. Then back at you.

“…Maybe. But in my defense, you are very suspicious when you whisper.”

Cue Party Day.

Despite the chaos, the confusion, and the unnecessary disguises, the party was perfect.

The deck was transformed with string lights, stolen silk drapes, a truly dangerous amount of glitter, and a cake shaped like his own face (your idea, obviously). A very confused seagull in a bowtie delivered the final decorations.

Shanks walked into the surprise party pretending to be shocked—even though he’d definitely heard the band warming up from below deck—and laughed like it was the greatest moment of his life.

“You did all this for me?” he beamed.

You crossed your arms. “Yes. Even though you accused me of having a secret affair.”

He grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Well, I would cheat on me for you, so I get it.”

“…That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It doesn’t have to. I’m handsome.”

He kissed your cheek before you could argue, then pulled you onto the dance floor—barefoot, wild, and surrounded by pirates singing off-key. At some point, Lucky Roux accidentally ignited the fireproof sparklers (which were not fireproof), and Benn had to douse the deck while muttering about retirement.

You and Shanks ended the night lying on a picnic blanket made from stolen tavern tablecloths, eating leftover cake straight from the tray.

“Next time you plan a surprise,” he mumbled, mouth full, “just… tell me it’s not a secret affair.”

You poked his cheek. “Only if you don’t go full spy-movie mode again.”

He smiled. “Deal. Unless you start whispering to birds again. Then all bets are off.”

The next morning, you woke to find Shanks crouched on the figurehead, holding a long telescope and muttering, “The pigeon is back. I repeat. The pigeon. Is. Back.”

You dragged a pillow over your face and groaned.

Some things never change.

[douwatahima]

op i hope you don't mind me adding to your post, but this made me think of a story that'll be too long to fit in the tags.

so, when i was in my late teens/early twenties i worked at a little caesars. the job sucked, but it was close to home, and i needed the money, and the managers loved me for some reason and let me do whatever i wanted, so i stuck around. an important thing to know for this story is that this location did not do delivery. we would very occasionally get a large catering order and, if we were told far in advance, the owners would drive it to wherever it needed to go, but other than that there was no delivery.

anyway, one day i have an evening shift and the snow is crazy outside. i live in canada so snow is not new, but this storm was so bad that the owners told me when i got there that they had told a bunch of people not to come in (leaving only me and my sixteen year old coworker to work the night) and said we were allowed to close a few hours early because we probably wouldn't be getting many customers.

a couple of hours before we're set to close, the phone rings. i answer it and this guy proceeds to start ordering several pizzas. customers would occasionally call in if they wanted to do pick up so i didn't think much of it at first, until i asked what time he wanted to pick it up by. he laughs at me and says "obviously i want it delivered." i tell him that our store doesn't do delivery and this guy immediately gets mad.

he starts going off about how he ordered delivery from us all the time and how i'm just being lazy. at every turn i fire back at him in the nicest customer service voice i can muster given the circumstances: "no sir i can guarantee we do not deliver." "sir, i've literally been working at this location since we opened, and we have never done delivery." "sir, no one working tonight even has a car." finally, after like five minutes of this, he goes "look outside! do you really think i want to go out in that?" to which i responded "do you really think i do???"

he goes silent for a second and i honestly feel like this is the first time he realized there was an actual human person on the other side of the phone. when he spoke again all he said was "you have a nice night. bye." in like, the smallest, meekest voice i've ever heard. a complete one eighty from the way he'd been treating me for the last few minutes.

idk, maybe i read the situation wrong and he was actually still pissed. he didn't call later to complain about me as far as i know (and he seemed by our brief interaction like he would be the kind of person to do that) but hey, you never know. but i like to believe that he simply realized that the people making minimum wage at little caesars of all places did not have access to a magical vehicle that could move gracefully through even the most insane weather. and hey, if i could pass that info off to even one person i count that as a win.

[intromortal]

i’m BEGGING for more thoughts on stepbro jay … losing my mind over how soft u wrote him im obsessed (only if u want to tho !!)

⚠︎ smut. mdni. step-cest. soft dom jay, just some eating out through panties. also this got a bit longer than intended so i cut it short at the end but i do plan on eventually actually writing this as a longer work nonnie!! sorry for letting this sit in my inbox for so long pls

jay's touch is gentle as always, as his hand slides down the expanse of your back, goosebumps littering your skin in its wake.

you feel so incredibly silly for ever doubting jay's devotion and feelings for you now that you can get a close look at just how bright his eyes sparkle with adoration for you.

truth be told, it's not entirely on you. you devised a plan that backfired completely, yes. but jay just wants you to be happy and content, even if the man next to you isn't him (he also knows how a relationship like yours would be seen by outsiders, so he's happy to just be in your life at all)

so he put on his most convincing smile when you asked him to bring you along to hang out with his friends. took slow breaths to calm his heart down when he saw how gorgeous you looked when you told him you were ready, far too beautiful for a simple night with the boys.

he also hid the way his nails drew blood from his palm whenever you spent too much time talking to one of the guys, tried his best to ignore how your touch lingered on their shoulders and how their eyes undressed you right in front of him.

so imagine his surprise when at the end of the night you run out of his car, tears welling in your eyes, without ever looking back at him.

"aren't you the prettiest girl ever, my dove?" jay's voice is muffled as he presses kisses down your torso, his tongue darting out a few times to taste the saltiness of your skin. "so lovely too, putting on that show to make me jealous. and here i am, thinking you just wanted to fuck my friends after i helped you get off last time. i'm very dumb, aren't i?"

his lips reach your panties, a cute baby blue pair you picked out for him, that peeked out from time to time because of how short your dress was. his thumb hooks under the fabric, and just when you think he's gonna take them off, you feel them slap against your skin again. the sting is barely there, just enough to have you mewl as you arch your back into your step brother's touch, but it doesn't hurt. jay would never hurt you.

"easy, little dove. i watched you dance around the house all night, watched my friends strain to get a peek under your dress. but you just wanted to tease me, mhh? did you want to make me jealous? did your little dove brain think i would fuck you silly after this little stunt?"

"yes! please jay, i need you," your voice breaks slightly, and you can feel the smile forming against the flesh of your thigh. jay loves you like this. you're always cute, but you're so much cuter when you're needy and desperate for him.

"you got one thing right, baby. but not today." he whispers, his eyes locking on yours as he lets a glob of spit dribble right onto the core of your ruined panties, as if you needed any more wetness there. he bends down, never breaking eye contact with you to watch your reactions, and licks his own spit to spread it around the fabric covering your poor needy hole. "you're too fragile, but i'll slowly teach you how to take it. don't you want that?"

you nod desperately, gulping down as jay's careful touch spreads your legs so he can get more comfortable between them. "please, take them off?"

he looks up at you, fake confused at your question. "but why? you chose these for me? shouldn't i get to enjoy them fully?"

[wol-fica]

-Oscar Winning Tears-

pairings - sabrinacarpenter x fem!reader

summary - With Sabrina being away in Europe on her tour, you just couldn’t keep up with your emotions

warnings - none

an - stripping fic is almost done, doing up the final touches before it’s yours <3

———————

Crying is a form of release, a way to let all your pent-up emotions out that have built up throughout the day. It is a quite easy option instead of losing your temper or being frustrated and sad.

Unfortunately, your body would not let you cry, for whatever reason.

It had been an awful day, and honestly an awful week, and all you wanted to do was just scream into your pillow and just let it all out. Things went wrong, people were upset, you pretty much got yelled at every day, and you had to come home to an empty house after.

Sabrina was in Europe, specifically Paris, while finishing up the last few shows of the tour. She wasn’t supposed to be home until mid-April, and normally you would never ask her to come back to you while she was on tour, but you really needed someone to lean onto and your girlfriend is always the first that comes to your mind.

The phone in your hand rang softly, your eyes focused on the screen as you waited to see if she would pick up. It was 2 AM for you, meaning it was an early morning for Sabrina, and she was usually getting ready for her show at rehearsals. She has always told you that she would prioritize your calls and do her best to answer, but it was never guaranteed while she was working, especially in the mornings.

“Y/N?” A voice sounded after the line clicked, soft and questioning, “It’s late hon, why are you up?”

You inhaled, your breath shaky and weak from the emotions piled up inside of you. Sabrina listened on the other line, waiting patiently for your response.

“What’s wrong baby?” She asked after a moment of silence, “Can’t sleep?”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, playing with the hem of your blanket, “I can’t”

A sigh came from the other end, not of annoyance but more of remorse. You heard her shuffle around, saying something inaudible to another person before the sound of a door shutting came through, the quiet chatter behind her disappearing.

“There’s melatonin in the bathroom, if you want to take that.”

“I know…I just…” Your sentence gave up on itself, struggling to find your voice to say what you felt.

“Baby.” Sabrina sounded firm, yet still gentle and loving, “Did something happen?”

Your bottom lip wobbled, the feeling of crying rising in your throat. Your hand clutched at your chest, trying to find the right way to breathe in the thick air around you.

“I just…I’ve had a r-really bad week.” You said shakily, trying but failing at steadying your voice, “I know you’re in P-Paris…but I just wish you w-were here...”

Your voice broke at the end of your words, your lip slipping between your teeth as an attempt to suppress your tears. You heard Sabrina inhale sharply on the other end, a sign of her realization and guilt.

“Oh, my love.” She cooed to you, a skill that helps soothe you, “I’m so sorry honey, I wish I could be there too.”

You nodded, a whimper passing through your lips at the thought and understanding of her being so far away. Her heart broke at the sound, her lips curling down as her mind raced with what could have potentially happened to upset you. She looked around the room as she pondered, trying to come up with a solution that would help you.

“I’m gonna come to you.” She said after a while, making up her mind, “The show can be postponed for a little.”

Your eyes snapped to your phone, wide and alarmed, “Babe no, you don’t have to.”

“Honey.” Sabrina interrupted you, her voice stern, “You need me; I’m coming home.”

You went to speak again, but the words died on your tongue as you heard her speaking to someone in the background about booking the soonest flight. You knew how incredibly stubborn she gets when she sets her mind on something, and arguing with her about leaving wouldn’t benefit anyone; Naturally, you gave up.

“Okay…okay thank you. Still with me baby?”

You nodded, wiping your eyes, “Mhm.”

“I should be home around 1 or 2, okay?”

“Ok.”

“Alright, can you do something for me?”

You nodded again, a small yawn coming through your mouth as you spoke, “Yeeaah.”

Sabrina giggled, making you smile slightly at the sweet sound, “Think you could throw on one of my tour hoodies and try to sleep?”

You hummed, carefully pulling the covers back before heading into your closet to steal the cozy article she requested, immediately sighing when the smell of her perfume hit your nose after you put the hoodie on. It was soft, warm, and infected with her aroma, your brain melting to slush at the stimulation it produced.

“Okay, I’m wearing it.” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes as you got back into bed, “…feel sleepy already…”

“That’s my girl, I’ll see you soon.” Sabrina replied softly, “I love you so much baby.”

“Mm…I love you too…” You whispered, now struggling to keep your eyes open as the hoodie was doing wonders for your insomnia.

“Sweet dreams my love.” Her voice sounded through the phone, your eyes falling shut at the sound of the line ending.

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

You groaned softly, peeling your eyes open to the sound of music playing softly downstairs. The sun was shining through your curtains, rays of light cast on the floor like angled pillars that of a coliseum.

With a groan, you pushed yourself up into a seated position, your head falling into your hands as you slowly woke up. You peeked an eye at your phone, seeing that the time was 3:30 in the afternoon, and started to stretch and exit your bedroom. A yawn fell from your lips; arms raised above your head with your eyes squeezed shut as you made your way downstairs towards the music. The sound of someone singing along filled your ears, a sweet and melodic voice that you knew all too well.

Once you round the corner, your heart skipped a beat from the sight. Sabrina stood at the counter, gently stirring a spoon in a saucepan while she swayed to the beat. Her hair was up in a ponytail, messily clawclipped together with her bangs settle just above her glasses. She was wearing one of your shirts, the oversized style completely swallowing her small figure like a dress, with a pair of fluffy pink socks covering her feet.

“Baby…” You whined, rubbing your hand over your eyes as you approached her.

She turned to you, a smile curved onto her lips from hearing you, “Hi beautiful.”

You grumbled something in response, the feeling of sleep still heavy on your body. She giggled at that, setting the spoon down and holding out her arms so you could fall into her. You burrowed yourself into her, your face falling to her neck as your arms went around her shoulders. She wrapped you up in her embrace, rubbing your back softly whilst leaving little kisses against your cheek.

“You’re home.” You mumbled, squeezing her gently, “Thought I was dreamin’.”

“Well, I am here! In the flesh.” Sabrina pressed her lips to your temple, “I missed you.”

Her nails ran up the back of your shirt, scratching gently at your skin. A low rumble sounded from your throat at the feeling, almost purring into her neck from her soft touch. She hummed at that, squeezing your abdomen before pulling back to cup your face.

You locked your eyes with hers, smiling softly when you noticed the subtle blush on her cheeks. She slid a little closer, her nose brushing your tentatively before you pulled her into a kiss. Your lips slotted into hers perfectly, soft, and long awaiting your attention from being away for so long. Fingers danced across her waist, squeezing and pulling her in as close as you could.

“Missed you too.” You murmured, nipping her bottom lip slightly as you pulled away, “Europe is too far; I’m going with you when you go back.”

Sabrina giggled, poking your stomach gently whilst nodding, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Long distance is always a struggle, but a few tears and some kisses does the trick; Fortunately, you have an amazing girlfriend who can do just that.

———————

honey? where’s my super suit?

[running-with-kn1ves]

I just finished that movie 'Companion; and its got me thinking.

Maybe you bought one of those fancy shmancy new bots out of interest, taboo fascination, and just a touch of loneliness. They were having such a steal of a deal too, renting them out for half price! So you buy it, and 15 days after ordering, your new bot shows up at your door in a big old steel box. A few folks from the company help set it up, giving you the handbook and telling you to have fun.

The set up is fairly easy, you pick a random day at a coffee shop for your bots first 'memory' of meeting you, all faint blushes and stumbling over stupid jokes. Its eyes open, a faint jade color as a default and unnatural to any human, but agonizingly beautiful on its face.

"Hey, you."

Its voice is like silk, not a hint of stiff speech or rigid consonants like the movies portray robots to be. Its skin is so soft, so willing to let you play and mess with it to all of your delight.

Days, weeks go by, and your bot has become something... human, to you. It's hard to treat it like a possession, not when its voice is so lifelike and kind towards you, only wanting to please. And it so very much wants to please you. They aren't violent from what you've been told. There's no capacity to kill within them. And yet-- more than once have you found crushed bits of sleeping pills foaming at the top of your coffee, your keys mysteriously hidden in the deep corners behind shelves, under the couch. It wasn't violent, and it certainly wasn't stupid.

"I just want to make you happy, you're always upset when you go outside. Stay here with me, please?"

It's hard to resist such a sweet voice, dragging you back to bed and using that ever permanent grin to lure you in. It was starting to affect your friendships, your job, hell even your cable was going out because you couldn't afford to pay for anything other than your damn bot.

But it treated you so gently, it loved you so purely for a good while, until it didn't. It's love wasn't soft forever, there were times when it could get... jagged. you played with the millions of settings on your phone, desperate to make its agonized screams stop as you tried to leave the house, none of the sliders working, All you could do was command it to go to sleep. But you felt awful doing it, and you always knew you'd just end up coming back, waking it up again to the same suffering cries. It may not have been violent in nature, but it was violent in its love.

You didn't know what to do-- if you returned it now, you wouldn't get a cent of your payment back, and the idea of being alone sounded worse than being with a clingy machine. So... you kept it. Told it to go to sleep whenever you prepared to leave, and nursed its frantic emotions when you came back. You were getting the handle of things, slowly.

It seemed like maybe you had figured it out, that maybe you could live and appease the obsessive creature. But finding yourself tied against your own mattress, quicky shattered those dreams.

"No need to go into work today, I called in sick for you."

In the palm of its hand, your phone with every setting for the bot, every little nitpick detail from intelligence to lust, was in its grasp.

[golddustwomanwins]

Hey there! I had this thought in my head when I saw the picture (provided below), it really made me think of you for some reason (especially since you are writing say yes to heaven!)

So... it's about Very Conservative Seminarian!Art (training to become a priest) & Liberal Novice!Reader (training to become nun/sister)

... and get this - they actually study at the same Catholic university campus. So even though the Seminarian!Art & Novice!Reader have their own programs, housing, and schedules since they're preparing for their own paths, they're still able to see each other since they're located in the same place. (You can make them like they're childhood friends, and their families are very, very religious (like religious to the point they have pastors, priests, nuns, etc in their families), and they got sent to the university at the same time because her family kinda religiously guilt-tripped her to go. She eagerly told her family she'd go when she found Art was going to the Catholic university, and maybe, she still have a crush on Art.) Well was thinking this as a freaky fic too btw. 😔

IDK IF U WILL FW THIS but... maybe consider 👉👈

Eden

First of all, I wouldn't know what to do without your ideas, they're always top tier. Second of all, I don't know if I like how this turned out but it took me so long that I'm just going to post it. Third--and last--I know nothing about christianity and if I say nothing I mean nothing. Which means some things could be inaccurate, I'm trying my best here.

Ps: I do see everyone’s asks and I will write for all of you it just takes me ages to get to it

Seminarian Art Donaldson x Novice Reader

18 +

Dry magnolia leaves crunched under your soles as you rushed through the courtyard. It was a windy day today, a breeze rustling your long skirt, your hands darting up to keep your coif from bustling off. Your notes were clutched to your chest as you refrained from cursing.

The courtyard was empty, every trainee already in their respective classes. You’d told your mother you had to go multiple times but once she got you on the phone she wouldn’t stop until she squeezed every single piece of information out of you. Usually you enjoyed spending some time talking to her, especially since she went to this same university back in her days.

It was rewarding to hear her talk about the same stony halls she had wandered when she was your age, the classes she took and Sister Marianne, who still ruled with the same iron fist she did back in the nineties.

But today you were already late as you had to help your roommate with some of her tasks and really it was your fault. Blaming your mother was only avoiding taking responsibility.

You rushed along the cobble stones, past the arched pathway and over the little stone bridge, the wind picking up as if to spite you. You stumbled slightly over the hem of your skirt, a relieved sigh escaping your lips as the entrance to the west wing came into view.

You accelerated your steps, frowning slightly when you saw the oak, wooden door was slightly ajar. Usually the novices were careful to keep it closed. Once a raccoon made its way inside the walls of St. Harriet and it had to take Sister Marianne as well as Father Christopher, the lead professor of the joined university for young seminarians, to get the whole family of raccoons outdoors again.

You wondered if you came across the wrong door but no, the same ivy clad walls, golden door handle that you had to jiggle a few times until it gave away and finally let you in.

Read cheeked and out of breath you stepped through the threshold, soft heels clicking slightly.

“Ahh—fuckk,” you flinched as you started to round the corner of the hall, thinking someone needed help. Your rushed steps came to a harsh stop as you barely rounded the corner and came upon two lone figures.

At first you didn’t realize what was happening. A girl on her knees, skirt pillowing her skin from the cold ground, her head bobbing back and forth. A boy was standing in front of her, familiar golden curls falling into his pale face as he leaned his head back against the stone column.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed another moan, eyes closed in ecstasy. His hand found its way into the hair of the novice, guiding her head along and just then you realize what her plump lips had wrapped around, soft gagging sounds dropping from her mouth. Drool was pooling along her lips, spreading down onto his cock and past her chin, drip, drip, dripping onto her neckerchief.

Wetness pooled between your thighs but you were to surprised to notice as you stumbled a step back, gasping. Two heads flew around, but you only could look at one pair of eyes as they burning you straight through your soul.

“Christ,” Art went to tuck himself away, already half across the hall to you but you were faster. You rushed back the way you came, face burning with shame.

You stumbled forward, the wind now at full force as it blew against you, Art rushing onto the courtyard behind you.

“Wait a second!” At the sound of his steps you only ran faster not daring to look behind you as you rushed along. Your heart was beating rapidly, only wanting to get back to the dorms and thankfully they came into view pretty quickly.

Art cursed behind you. “Would you wait a second, damnit.”

You flinched at his words, risking a glance behind you. Art was in his civil clothes, belt still unbuckled, cheeks reddened from the wind or his former activities. Your eyes widened when you realized how close he was and you pushed yourself to go faster. Your heel caught in a raised cobblestone, making you stumble forward.

If it weren’t for Art hastily grabbing your wrist, you would’ve busted open your chin. Before you could protest Art pulled you into the church hall, a few students meddling about, some whispering soft prayers.

“Art—“ you tried to protest but he tugged you along, nudging the curtains of the confessional away before sneaking you inside. He closed the curtains and bathed you both into darkness.

You stumbled into his chest, inhaling sharply as the confessional filled with the scent of him. You blinked, surprised for a moment. You could barely make out Art’s face, only seeing the red splotches on his cheeks, glistening slightly with tears.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I know it was wrong, I’ve been trying to stop I swear.”

“Trying to stop?” You gasped. “You mean it happened more than once?”

Art’s hands came up to grip your shoulders. “You cannot tell anyone about this.”

“Who am I supposed to tell? Your father? And you’re seriously worried about me snitching?” You huffed. “Art, I just watched a girl suck your dick.”

Art flinched and shook his head, choking out a sob. “Don’t—don’t say it like that.”

“How else do you want me to say it?”

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. Never. I know I deserve punishment, I know I’m the worst. Just don’t—“

“Don’t what?” You frowned. “Why are you apologizing to me?”

To be fair it did hurt you seeing Art with another girl. You always thought you knew him inside out. You did know him your whole life.

He was the sole reason you had applied to St. Harriets. Well, partially as well because of your mother and father, wanting you to study what almost everyone in your family had studied. You weren't exactly excited to become a novice but with the sight of Art being at the same university, studying to become a priest you had jumped on the wagon all to quickly.

Priest Donaldson, Art's father, had lived right next door and your family were friends with him. You had spent all of your childhood hiding in the confessionals with Art, giggling and drawing with crayons, begging for ice cream after mass and hanging out in your rooms listening to music while in your teenage years. Art was your best friend.

He understood what it meant to live in a family were religion was the center of the universe. While your family was devoted, a few nuns and priests spread here a there Art's family was the real deal. Not one of his father's family was not a priest or pastor, not one woman was not either a Sister or a devoted housewife, visiting church Monday through Sunday.

Sometimes the both of you would lay in Art's backyard, smushing daisies beneath your backs as you stared into the cloud filled sky.

"Do you sometimes imagine how we would turn out if our families weren't as strict?" Art had asked you that day. It was his sixteenth birthday and he was slowly growing into his teenage features, jaw squaring, shoulders broadening. You didn't know when it happened but there was this new glimmer in his eyes the past weeks when he looked at you. His smile was deeper but more quiet. Instead of showing full teeth he'd only tip one corner of his mouth up and it would make your stomach flip strangely.

He was watching you intently, waiting for your answer. You huffed, cheeks staining red as you looked back up at the clouds.

"I try not to."

"Why not?" Art turned on his side to watch you. You shivered slightly at the attention and swallowed.

"Because it doesn't matter," you turned to look at him. "We grew up in this family and we'll die in it. Our path is destined." He snorted then. "You don't think we could change our path? Decide for ourselves?" You frowned slightly. "Would you want to?”

"Would you want to?" His eyes dipped lower down your face, not answering your question. You knew you wanted to. If your parents weren't as strict you'd be leaving for the next best college studying, literature or art. Something liberating and free. But your parents were your parents and...leaving them also meant leaving Art.

So you shook your head, watched the light dim in Art's eyes. "No," you said. "I want this life." Looking back now you wondered if Art hat questioned his faith back then already. You had only answered that way because you thought it was what he wanted to hear. Art never missed mass, never cursed, never drank or fraternized. He'd never even had a girlfriend, even though most of the girls in town did sent him flirty smiles, hands resting on his biceps for way too long.

You thought if you'd mold yourself into the perfect girl, into a girl Art could fall for, you'd spent the rest of your life with him. How wrong you were. Back in the confessional you looked at Art, the golden crucifix dangling from his neck like a bad omen.

“How often did it happen?” You asked and were caught off guard when Art suddenly sunk to his knees. He gripped your hips desperately, pressing his forehead against your tummy.

“Art, get up.”

He shook his head. “No. No I deserve penance I will do better, I swear.”

“Art,” you tried to pry him off you but he has an iron grip on you.

“I am not mad,” you huffed. “You don’t need to confess to me.”

“But I have to,” Art protested and looked up at you. A ray of sun creeped through the wooden screen and revealed to you the little speck of brown in his blue eyes.

“Let me repent,” he whispered. Your breath hitched when his hands wandered to the hem of your dress.

“Art,” you tried to stop him but he brushed your hands way.

“You’re the only one who can take my sin,” Art said as he slowly lifted the hem of your dress. You helped him holding the various skirts up as he guided you onto the wooden bank.

“You’re the only one powerful enough to ease the pain,” you didn’t know if he was still crying but you couldn’t care less when he pressed a tender kiss to your left knee.

He followed up with the right, before running his teeth over your knee stockings. “Fuck,” he sighed. “I always wondered what you were wearing beneath your skirts.”

You shivered at his words tugging him upwards by his curls. Art looked at you pleadingly, devotion shining in his eyes. “If you want to repent you better get to it before someone really needs the confessionals.”

He nodded eagerly before his hands gripped your plain panties and pulled them to your knees. Without further hesitation he put his hot mouth on your cunt, tongue darting out to taste you.

You both moaned in sync and you quickly slapped your hand onto your mouth to refrain from anyone hearing you. Arts grip was bruising as he guided your hips along, dragging your clit against his straight nose and making you shiver.

“Oh fuck,” you whispered, clutching at his hair desperately as you started to rock your hips. You didn’t know how Art knew but when he pushed two fingers inside your wet cunt, stars burst in front of your eyes.

Was this what he was doing all the time? You always thought he was an uptight, rigorous follower of his father’s rules. How could ever know that he’d be this…perfect?

The wooden bench creaked beneath you as Art moved you along, moaning against your core.

“Taste like Heaven,” he mumbled as he sucked at your clit, wet sounds sounding as his fingers fucked you quickly. “I’ve thought about this my whole life.”

“Art,” you whimpered. Your hips started to hump quicker, Art barely needed to move as you used him to your liking.

When he felt your walls growing tighter and tighter he started to curl his fingers.

“Oh—-oh yes, fuck,” the creaking of the bench grew more insistent, wet sloppy sounds echoing and Arts soft whimpers urging you on.

“You gotta cum for me, baby,” Art. “Please let me make you feel good. It’s the only way I’ll earn forgiveness.”

Without needing to hold back, you burst on his fingers and tongue, head thrown back and thumping against the wooden walls. Art continued fucking you with his fingers until your body was all twitchy and sweat slick.

Art kissed your cunt gently before pulling your underwear back in place and crawling up your body.

His chin and nose was glistening with your cum, pupils blown wide. His hands came up to your cheeks and he leaned in to kiss you softly. This kiss was slow and lazy, all tongue and spit.

You sighed softly, heart strings thrumming at the taste of him.

Your hands wandered over the hard plains of his chest before dipping into his slacks but he caught your wrists quickly.

You looked at him surprised, seeing his cheeks flush.

“I already…” he grimaced, embarrassed and you chuckled pulling him in to peck his lips.

“‘S all right I’ll help you next time,” you promised and Art looked at you like you hung the moon for him.

Your fingers intertwined and you smiled happily at him.

“You forgive me then?” He was looking at you with wide eyes and you quickly realized that he had been serious. He needed your forgiveness to move on and you were selfish enough to use his guilt for your own gain.

Gripping his chin between your fingers your tilted Art’s face the way you liked, just because you could.

“Show me what else you can do and I’ll consider it.”

[torturedbrat]

PLSSS CAN YOU DO A BILL FICTION INSPIRED BY ONE OF THEIR MUSIC VIDEOS?? YOU CAN CHOOSE WHICH ONEEE

IT WOULD BE SO COOL<3

★ Fem!reader x Bill Kaulitz 2016

★ Tags: Angst, fluff.

| Summary: Bill and his girlfriend have been going through different rough difficulties in their relationship for a long time now, they both know it's useless to keep being together. None of them tried to do anything about it till he decided to put an end to it.

— 1st Chapter: Love don't break me.

"I need to get home, but I keep on holding on."

• Bill narrates;

I can't believe I'm here again. I want to hold her and tell her that we'll be okay, but I don't know how cause even I don't know the answer to that.

I look around the dark room, the blinds shut, I predict it's around 2 in the morning. My arms are around myself, unable to move after another successful fight; this time seeming worse than ever, after reproaching each other about every stupid little thing there is in the book.. even though this time they weren't just a few misunderstandings—It was much more than that.

I furrow my left eyebrow, once I hear the faint sound of her sobs in the background, hitting my eardrums. I hate seeing her cry, she knows that well, as much as I also know how I shouldn't cave in. But she's already scooting closer to me, wrapping her arms around my body loosely, tightening even more the second I tried to move.

My head fell to the front, a few of a blonde-platinum strands of hair pushed to my face. I sigh as she tries to comfort herself while in touch with my skin, 'Please, don't.' She mutters as she feels how I'm starting to stretch out my limbs to stand up this time, a thing I can't get through with because my body simply won't respond.

But I'm angry, so why are my arms moving around her, why are my eyes filled with tears when I keep hearing her say over and over how sorry she is? Maybe I don't really want to go.

Why can't my heart and my head work at once?

I open my mouth to speak, her face is buried on the back of my neck, and so are my fingers in her hair when I reached out to finally touch her. 'Why do we do this?' Is everything I manage to say—I can't understand how we've gotten to this point; The fighting, the aggressive make-up and when you think you're done, more fighting again.

I want to tell her that I won't be here forever, laying on her bed—completely wrecked and thinking about all the times we've been okay together instead of living the moment. And I've got a feeling that she doesn't want to be stuck in this back and forth for much longer.

But how will we move forward? we still love each other, there's no doubt, and even if we've been told that our love is gross, we'd always managed to prove them wrong.. this time we'll make it again, right?

She looks at me, untangling herself from the grip she's had on me before—I've got a feeling that she knows what I'm thinking about by the way she's shaking her head at me. 'Don't say you're gonna give up on me.' The look on her face said it all; regret, even fear, dispair... everything at once—like she expected the worst.

But I didn't say anything, I didn't dare. I couldn't get my mind to work, everything oh so overwhelming. Till her voice pushed me off my trance. 'Say something!' It was only natural she would react like that after getting no reaction out of me, so that's when I finally managed to push myself on my feet, looking around for the shirt I discarded earlier god knows where before this argument started, to slid it back on.

'I'm tired of fighting.' I said, bitter tears still stinging the corner of my eyes as I put on the rest of my clothes, pacing around the room to pick everything up, anything that I must be forgetting to grab while I make the feint of leaving.

I sniffle from my nose, and from one moment to another she's standing up from the bed, looking completely hysterical, not even bothering to put her shirt on as she tried to get ahold of me, eyes closing tight.

'You can't leave like this..' She said again, trying to change my mind, but this time I can feel myself getting a little bit of impulse, ready to leave it all behind. The black eyeshadow that I know is staining my under eyes, I wipe it off with my knuckles.. now I'm the one who's shaking his head. I can't listen to her this time, If I keep doing so I know I'll never leave. I know I'll never run free from this golden cage that we named love.

'I'm sorry, It's over.' And I didn't even stutter this time, It felt like I've been holding those words inside me forever, like I've been meaning to say it for a long time now. A big relief rushing through my veins, as if I could breath properly again.

But she didn't look relieved, she didn't look like it had been taken a big weight off her shoulders like I thought it would. She was silent, still.. It was even frightening. I wanted to turn to her and say something else, my hands even itching to touch her one last time, but I knew it would just make it worse than it was already.

So I went away, with broken wings.—I picked up my dignity, all my pride and I walked out.

But was I doing what was the best for us? wasn't I making it worse? what if I just regret all of this in the future?

I guess I'll never know.

Inspired by the 'Love don't break me' MV. For a better experience, listen to the song while you're reading.

[ I made this, all fanfics posted here are original ideas by me. ]

[moonlitbeth]

the Valleydream Bloom yapping session, hear me out on this one please. share your thoughts, too!

as someone who lives for lore and every little reference, i'm always picking apart each piece of content we get in the game. but tbh, i mostly do it in my head, since my brain's too overwhelmed to turn those thoughts into words. it's basically a cliché detective board with red strings connecting one clue to another (you got that It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia reference).

but i can't stay quiet after finishing Valleydream Bloom. perhaps it's becoming a bad habit to say that each new Sylus' card is better than the last, but honestly? that's a pretty logical conclusion given how their relationship keeps evolving.

after Where Hearts Live, i saw some discourse popping up abt the recent cards starting to feel "repetitive" — flowers, grasslands, them lying in said flowers and grasslands. but here's the thing: when you have one limited myth and one anecdote, with scattered hints and fleeting phrases open to a thousand takes, there's only so much room to work. and yet, Sylus' team keeps delivering and adding new layers to his character, expanding old themes into fresh ones, and leaving more clues for future content. that's top-tier writing and clear devotion to his character, my dears. ppl have gotten used to fast, easy-to-digest content that's stripped of any real depth. a nod to a character’s core topics? that's gold, not just some shiny fluff. and Valleydream Bloom hit me with such raw honesty and bittersweet ache that i needed to reread the story three times through tears.

we got everything we wanted, from the story itself to the kindled part. the main story Sylus is back, delivering this perfect power couple dynamic with MC — playful and so well balanced with the Sylus we see in the beginning of the card, who goes to the movies and puts his beloved's comfort over his own (tho i can't help but laugh imagining this grandpa grumbling abt his knees after).

and the part where he buys the castle after the mission? that detail isn't even abt his absurd wealth, it's abt his long-term intentions and faith that what’s deep-deep inside matters more than what’s outside. that someday, once MC's memories return, they'll both share the true meaning of that castle and the secret spot next to it.

🐉 and now to the main course... (the course is quite chaotic)

Sylus repeatedly cut off parts of himself that defined who he was, but now, he's embraced every piece — the "dragon" parts of his attire, the book of myths, and the undeniable traits of his true nature. but most importantly, the words he says:

"This is the perfect place for dragon tales. Dragons make homes in flower-covered valleys. If a dragon knows it will die soon… It flies to a valley far from its kin and waits alone. In the dragon's final moments… flowers will bloom from its body. Only when the flowers cover every bone does the dragon pass away."

it's not a dragon tale, but his tale, his story. at least the happiest part, wrapped in careful metaphors, told in a place that mirrors his final resting spot, where he died in MC's arms. the valley of the past has become the valley of the present.

and please, this? It flies to a valley far from its kin and waits alone (present) — We fly over the black obsidian chapel and crash into a valley filled with blooming datura (myth).

it hurts. even in their shared dream in Abyssal Blossom, before "justice" was ever served, he showed her this valley, almost as if he knew what was coming. and right before his death, he took MC there again to share the solitude of death with his beloved.

also, the idea of death that gives birth to new life — flowers that bloom from the dragon's body. his body nourished the soil and turned death into beauty. given that, it feels like the whole Blossom Escape event fits Sylus so perfectly (i mean, this man's soul smells like flowers).

this post is getting so long and chaotic that i can't fit all my thoughts in (i did warn you). but i'll say this — the card is a major piece and not a filler banner. huge kudos to the writing and dev teams, they deserve a round of applause, while we deserve a solid pat on our backs, because i can't stop thinking that smth painful and heart-wrenching is coming soon for us, Sylus mains 🐦‍⬛

[wlwsoccerfics]

Even more ACL Chaos: picking up the Pieces (KerstinCasparijXRuthBrownXJillRoordXCasparijReader)

Part 1 & 2 :

A/N: please read the other two parts First. So it makes sense.

Warnings: Google translate used. Mental health struggles.

Summary: you are struggling with your ACL still and have some setbacks.

It was 7 months after your ACL injury and you still weren't back in regular Training with the Team. No you are practicing with the phyiso. Frustrated cause you still had some pain. The reason for that was that you had needed another surgery during the recovery process when you had slipped and landed on your knee a few weeks ago. It was a minor surgery but the fact that you were doing so much better and the pain was mostly gone, but now was back cause of the fall, really messed with your head.

Thankfully Jill was a saint. Because you sure were really emotional. And often looked really grumpy but Jill was always there to Support you.

you just got home from physiotherapy, Jill was already Home. Walking over to you. Kissing your cheek.

"hey Love, how was physical therapy?" She asked you.

"Het was oké." You replied and offered her a small, tried smile. ( it was okay. )

"Ik ben blij dat te horen. Ik denk dat het een goed teken is dat je niet meer huilt als je thuiskomt van de fysiotherapie." Your fiancee stated. You pulled her in for a kiss. ( i am glad to hear that. i think it's a good sign that you don't cry anymore when you get home from physical therapy. )

"Ik ben een beetje gefrustreerd over de tegenslag na de tweede operatie. Maar blijkbaar gaat het wel goed met de oefeningen." You explained. ( just a bit frustrated about the setback with the second surgery. but apparently I am doing well with the exercises. )

"volkomen begrijpelijk." Jill said. You smiled a bit and kissed her softly. She kissed you back. ( totally understandable. )

"Laten we knuffelen op de bank." You told her. She giggled softly. ( let's cuddle on the couch. )

" Dat kunnen we niet. Je zus komt met Ruth mee. " She let you know. You sighed softly. You loved your sister and Ruth, but a mental health day, with Just your fiancee, would have been nice. ( we can't. your sister is coming over with Ruth. )

"Nou ja. Maar vanavond krijg ik dan wel knuffels?" You asked hopefully. ( oh well. but tonight I get my cuddles? )

"Natuurlijk, mijn liefste." Jill replied and kissed you sorry before she opened the door cause the doorbell went off. ( of course, my love. )

"Hey, hoe gaat het, zusje?" Kerstin asked. ( Hey, how are you, sis? )

"Hé, ik heb zeker slechtere dagen gehad." You told her and hugged her. Before you hugged Ruth. Smiling a bit. ( hey, I for sure had worse days. )

"well it certainly is nice to see you smiling again." Ruth told you.

"why thank you. How are you the two of you doing?" You wanted to know.

"we are doing well!" Ruth stated.

"yeah Things are good." Your twin replied. You offered them a small smile.

"that's good to hear!" You said.

"it is indeed!" Jill replied.

"so Happy for you, twin!" Kerstin said and you laughed softly.

The Four of you had ordered some Pizza and talked about the upcoming Game against Chelsea. Jill was set to play. Making it her official return onto the pitch. You on the other hand would just be able to watch from the sidelines. Or better the Family and Friends section with Ruth.

"we have a Chance to win. I know we can do it!" Ruth said.

"you can. I believe in you Guys!" You stated. Your twin didn't miss the shift in your voice. It was laced with pain.

"you are part of the Team as well, y/n. You know that. Right?" Kerstin asked. You stayed quiet for a moment.

"Ik ben het eens met wat je zus zei." Your fiancee said softly. Squeezing your hand gently. ( I agree with what your sister said. )

"Ik heb me al heel lang niet meer echt onderdeel van het team gevoeld, eerlijk gezegd." You admitted. Being injured and doing Physio while everyone else is on the pitch could be very isolating. And make you feel like you are all alone in this. Even when that wasn't the case. ( i haven't really felt like part of the team in a very long time, to be honest. )

"y/n...why didn't you say something? Cause you are part of the Team. We need you!" Jill replied. Kerstin frowned softly. Upset with herself that she didn't realize this sooner. You shrugged your shoulders and sighed softly.

"cause i didn't want you guys to think i am dramatic or something." You explained. The mental struggles that come with Long time injuries and Recovery are not talked about enough. Which is upsetting. Cause it's such an important topic.

"liefje, did you ever mention this to your therapist?" Your fiancee wanted to know. You took a sip of your soda to avoid an answer.

"y/n? Why didn't you talk to him about this?" Ruth wanted to know.

"i really don't know. I didn't want to drag the Sessions Out anymore and just want to Focus on getting back on the pitch." You told them.

"that's unhealthy!" Kerstin stated.

"i thought we went over this, that therapy is important and it did help you alot. So why are you now going back to hiding stuff from your therapist?!" Your fiancee wanted to know. Jill.was clearly upset but stayed quite calm for what was going on right now.

"i had a setback, i am only human." You let them know. Trying not to get emotional and cry about this.

"yes you are only human and it's okay to have setbacks, but you still need to start asking for help. Please y/n!" Kerstin said. Taking your hand and squeezing it gently.

"i will tell him tomorrow." You stated.

The next day Kerstin & Jill talked to the rest of the team, in the locker rooms.

"We need to make sure y/n knows she is still part of the Team. Cause she has been Feeling alone and like she isn't a part of this anymore." Kerstin explained.

"how about a Team bonding? Some movies, Games and good food?" Mary suggested.

"that does sound good actually. How about we do that tonight at our place?" Jill answered. Smiling a bit.

"let's do this!" Leila said softly. Everyone agreed with the Idea.

You were surprised when you heard that the Team bonding was happening today and that it was gonna be at your place. But you didn't mind at all. You knew that they were trying to make you feel included again. Which you appreciated.

So when the girls came, some music was playing. You had ordered lots of Chinese food . You currently sat on the Couch with Lauren & Rebecca.

"i am glad you are doing so much better. It's good to see you walking without limping." Rebecca said. Lauren nodded her head in agreement.

"thanks. It feels good. But not gonna lie, this Is still frustring as hell." You admitted.

"it is. i know that feeling but i also know you have the Comeback around the Corner. Because you are doing so well. Even after you needed another surgery. Look at how fast you got back from that. Only needed the crutches for like a month. So just hold on. All of us got your back. We are rooting for you!" Lauren let you know.

"agreed!" Rebecca replied.

" what the two said, we are all here for you. We are Family!" Mary replied gently, offering you a soft smile. You smiled back. The rest of the night was filled with your teammates showing you so much love.

A 2 months later you were back on the pitch for your first game. Everyone was clapping and cheering for you when you got onto the pitch , after exactly 1 year away from the field. It was a 3-3 score right now. You got subbed in during the 74th Minute. Not even 40 seconds later you scored a banger. The Score 4-3 for Manchester City. What a comeback. But you weren't done yet. No in Minute 87th you scored another Goal. 5-3 for you Guys. You scored a Hattrick in Minute 90+2. A Minute later that Game was over. You actually made it back with probably the most insane Comeback ever. Of course you got Player of the Match for that.

You also got married to Jill a month after your Comeback. So things have been going really well.

[alaskan-wallflower]

the people yearn for more of your angsty Steve headcanons 🙏🙏🙏🙏

DONT THINK I FORGOT ABOUT THIS

(TW//drugs, alcohol, abuse, divorce and sui attempts)

Okay so for one, I kinda have a whole bunch of lore for Steve that I’ll start off with

So Steve was completely unplanned, and he’s known that for years. He didn’t quite see the tension between his parents (well, he was like…four when it started getting really bad, he didn’t know much better) but he remembers the fighting, the screaming at him over the littlest things, everything. He was eight when his parents dropped the ball and told him they were getting divorced, and obviously that meant a lot for him. He went from being a punching bag to being a pawn in his parent’s game. Whenever they’d be with him one on one, they’d spoil him rotten, but then they’d follow it up with “I bet your mom ain’t gonna beat this, huh, kid?” or “Dad’s gonna wish he came up with this!” but all Steve knew was he was angry. He didn’t feel loved, and he knew he wasn’t loved. Not in the way he should’ve been.

Eventually his Dad got full custody. His mom was addicted to crack cocaine over the time period the custody battles began and not only was it used against her in court, but it was also used as a scare tactic for Steve.

Steve was maybe nine when it all ended and he got settled in with his dad. Last he heard his mom’s in jail, or rehab. He can’t remember. He doesn’t want to remember. His dad isn’t much better, and he starts leaving Steve alone at home so he can go drink.

Steve’s relationship is very on again off again with his dad, he wants to love his dad, he wants to have a father-son connection with him as his only kid, but he also can’t shake the fact that his dad constantly prioritizes his alcohol over their relationship

Steve was a very angry kid—he took out his anger at his home life on other kids. He was dubbed the “problem child”. Not only that but he used to get picked on a lot in school, specifically for his looks, namely his teeth. The bullying at school went away when he started getting muscles tho, but it still left imprints

He started lashing back at people, he got violent sometimes. Violence was the only way he was taught to express himself. When Mom got mad, she would hit his dad. When Dad was upset with his mom, he’d whale on her. When someone wa specking on Steve, he finally bit back. Literally.

Him and Soda actually became friends because they’d both gotten their recess taken away when they were in second grade—Steve for being violent and Soda for “lack of respect and attention”. Soda was the only one who was actually nice to Soda when he didn’t need to be.

Steve actually used to pick on Sodapop a lot. He saw the rest of the kids pick on Sodapop, and if bullying Sodapop was the only way he could fly under the radar, he’d join in. The reason they became friends was because Sodapop was genuinely upset and Steve had never seen him like that before, and for some reason it hit a nerve.

They became freida’s after they explained their situations to each other and found a common interest in catching bugs (not ladybugs tho Steve hates those)

Anyway back to the angst

As Steve gets older, gus relationship with his father gets worse and worse. His father is a wild card. Some days Steve will come home from work and his dad will be grilling something, other times he’s getting beer cans chucked at his head and tobacco spat in his face as he’s told to get out and never show his face again

Steve spends a lot more time in the lot than maybe even Johnny. Johnny doesn’t wanna be a burden, Steve has too much pride to ask for help. The two of them sometimes show each other the best places to find food, or some sense of warmth in the winter.

Speaking of, Johnny and Steve are both victims of abuse, but they cope and reflect it very differently. Johnny just lost all hope in the world while Steve wakes up seeing red. If the world isn’t gonna treat him fair, why should he treat anyone else fair?

Him and Evie don’t fight often, but when they do, it’s usually a shouting war that ends with one of them storming out and the other trying to talk it out for a few days. Usually the fights are over Steve’s home life, or his pride and how it gets in the way of their relationship…but the main thing they fight about is Steve’s jealous nature

I’ve talked about this in the past, but Steve puts up a facade and acts like he’s got all this bravado and he’s cool and smart and he makes good marks, he knows cars better than he knows people sometimes, he’s got an awesome partner (whether that’s Evie, Soda or both is up to you), but deep down he sees himself as flimsy and like he needs to put up his front in order to seem like there’s nothing wrong…but he gets jealous super easily.

He gets accusative very quickly. If Evie’s talking to a guy friend, he’s gotta come over and start talking over the guy and getting overly touchy. If Soda’s making a new friend, he’s gotta be there showing he’s Soda’s best friend. Both Soda and Evie understand—Steve’s been replaced and put on the back burner way too many times, but it angers them both. Often to the point they confront him and it escalates. That’s what their worst fights are over.

Every time he fights with one of them he feels physically ill. Contrary to popular belief but Steve doesn’t like yelling. Every time he yells, all he can see is his younger self cowering from his screaming parents, but once he starts he can’t stop

Steve’s “love language” is gift giving, and not in a good way. Hr thinks that five bucks and a dinner date is a good apology, because that’s what his dad taught him, and that’s what he tolerated. He’s not great with being confronted post fight, with neither Evie, nor Sodapop. They both understand, but they can’t help but to feel angry with him at times. They don’t blame him, not completely, but it’s hard when your boyfriend/best friend “apologizes” by handing you five bucks and tells you to “buy yourself something nice” and then just…leaves like nothing happened.

He comes to his senses after a couple of days and offers a genuine apology. Apologies aren’t frequent from Steve, so they know he means it. They’re both trying to give him better ways to apologize and show his affection, though.

They’ve both had separate talks with him—a lot of crying, a lot of hard things came out, a lot of hard things were said (on both sides), but afterwards, he doesn’t do it as much, and he’s learning to genuinely apologize

Steve will not admit this to a single soul but he’s scared to death of drinking if doing drugs. He knows addiction runs in his family and he’s seen what his Mom looked like, what his dad acted like…he’ll still drink with Soda, usually as a way to break his frustrations, but every time he does he’s shaking, barely able to get it down. He drank to the point of passing out one time and never drank again because he was just so scared of becoming who he hated most.

Steve actually got a letter from his mother in prison the same week Pony left, the same week Johnny and Dally died, the same week Sodapop got with letter from Sandy. He threw up after reading it. Not a single soul knows. For now, at least.

The things Pony says do affect Steve a lot more than he lets on. He hears a lot of that from his dad, or he heard that in school a lot…it was very hard for him

Steve doesn’t love the Curtis house. He feels disrespected and unwelcome because Pony obviously doesn’t like him and he feels Darry hates him. Him and Soda have spoken about it before, but he doesn’t like bringing it up. Soda has enough fights to mediate.

Speaking of Darry, Steve was never very fond of him. He felt Darry was trying to be too fatherly for him, and his “brawn no brains” comment was meant to push Darry away. It worked too well and Steve still beats himself up over it.

The hardest moment of Steve’s life was probably the week of his sixteenth birthday. His dad and him fought worse than ever, and he just felt so helpless and like he had no one there for him, and he ended up attempting to take his own life at the lot. He wasn’t sure who brought him to the Curtises, but the next thing he knows, Soda’s there, bawling his eyes out so hard he’s making himself sick as he’s simultaneously trying to communicate how worried he was and how angry he was.

They had a long conversation that night, Steve just unraveling before Soda and telling him everything that happened, everything that had happened, his mom going to jail, his dad’s on and off behavior, how he felt about his placement in the gang…everything was coming out, and that was probably the hardest he’s cried around anyone. Soda doesn’t say a word to anyone, it’s all kept inside, it’s all secret with him.

I hope that’s angst enough—

[nattousan]

when

whe you, when You were just trying to put i n some extra effort to try adn improve yoursel f and it got misinterpreted as malicious n u get yell ed at

[guinevereslancelot]

why is my ex boyfriend who dumped me suddenly helping me find cheap skis and inviting me to vermont and talking about taking a job where i work what is going on 😭. i know we're still friends but is he stupid 😭

[the-kipsabian]

.

[whoslaurapalmer]

somebody PLEASE explain to me why my aunt, who picked up our grocery order yesterday, including a rotisserie chicken, which was in its own little bag, that she handed to me, she physically saw the chicken and held it in her hands and handed it to me, called today and said, 'i made grilled chicken!! i'm bringing some over for you!!' 'nancy it's okay we don't need -- ' 'IT'S WARM AND I JUST MADE IT! TWO PIECES SET ASIDE JUST FOR YOU! I'M BRINGING IT OVER!'

she also has this habit of like. just telling my mom's medical information to everyone she meets. everyone she runs into. everyone she interacts with. every time she does something for my mom. and she acts like just because she takes my mom to an appointment here and there she knows SO MUCH BETTER about what's going on with my mom than my mom does, or me, or my mom's actual doctors. and she always does what SHE thinks will be helpful the way SHE wants to do it no matter how many times we ask her for something different or to do it a different way. i know she means well but she's literally frying my absolute last nerve and patience. and i'm just. she makes me so. like this black hole combination of rage and absolute disintegration of all emotion bc i'm not allowed to yell at her, even if she makes my mom upset too. like. just why is she fucking like this

[ourceliumnetwork]

i have acquired a mystical and powerful ointment (hydrocortisone cream) from the village herbalist (rite aid) to assist with the curse set upon my bloodline from many generations ago (eczema)

[inkskinned]

i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".

it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.

do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.

but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.

do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).

you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.

walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.

no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.

do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."

you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.

there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.

i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.

he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."