#sorry I haven’t been posting or on much…. been struggling more than words could ever express

[rosicheeks]

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[celestie0]

hi friends, i won’t be posting or updating any of my works for an indefinite period n will be on hiatus from this blog as well.

i’ve unlisted kickoff & ihm on ao3 (haven’t deleted, they’ve just been made private) and i’ve unpinned my masterlist here on tumblr (again nothing’s been deleted so you could probably find the chapters if you searched my tags)

but the reason i did that is because i don’t want any new readers finding my works during my hiatus because i don’t want to potentially upset more people in the event that, during this hiatus, i decide that i would no longer like to write my fics

that would be an insanely sad decision to make. i put so much thought into my stories not because i am trying to make them entertaining, but it’s because they genuinely mean so much to me and are cathartic in ways i can’t describe. i have spent a great majority of my life self negating for the sake of others, and so writing was just a form of expression where i could talk about all the things i’ve suppressed over the years - anxiety, career stress, financial stress, avoidance, depression, loss, coming of age, navigating love, etc

but lately, and i do think it’s been a build up of just some careless words from a handful of people over the months, i find myself steering towards a practice of writing that is no longer asking the question “how can i put as much of myself in this piece as possible?” but rather “how can i make sure people won’t criticize this…i feel awful that it doesn’t have what they want it to have…other creators are doing xyz, should i be doing that too?…i’m just scared to share this”

not exactly sure when that shift in headspace began, but as of right now, it’s as strong as ever. and i understand that those questions may seem irrational, and i just have to try to not focus on the feeling, n i wish i was someone that could compartmentalize those thoughts better, but here’s the thing — the whole reason i started expressing myself through writing in the first place was because i’ve spent my whole life compartmentalizing. it would feel so ironic & untrue to the lessons i’ve learned in this journey if i just chose to “suck this up” and continue pushing forward until i reach a point of burnout simply because i don’t want to upset anyone

i’m really sorry i couldn’t focus on the positive. especially with all the insane n incredible amount of love n support i’ve received for my works. i’ve said this time n time again but when i started posting kickoff to ao3 back in january of this year, i had NO idea it would be this loved by so many people…i was like ok can’t wait to interact w these four readers for the rest of the year…and then BAM, i find myself fully sobbing after each chapter update because i was so touched by all the sweet n kind words. i don’t want this decision to come off in a way that makes it seems like i don’t love u guys sm or that i’m ungrateful — i’ve always taken pride in respecting my audience. even for a simple hobby, i try to put effort into my works. i proofread, i plan out, i edit in length, all because i am, well, for one, i’m a bit of a perfectionist LOL but also i think there’s a great deal of honor in respecting an audience that gives you their time n attention

but i already am struggling in my life to focus on the positive. medicine has been such an incredibly daunting career to pursue, i’m honestly only doing slightly better now because i’m just filled with relief that i got into med school to begin with lol it’s still surreal to me, so the stress has been kinda manageable so far on that sense of optimism, but dear god the shit i went through to get here…and the shit i know i still face ahead of me. i spend all of my serotonin on trying to stay positive in the face of my responsibilities. so all of this time i’ve spent trying to stay positive for the sake of my stories too has just left me with so much exhaustion — i just don’t see why posting my works should be anything less than fun and endlessly exciting when it’s a hobby that’s supposed to help me thru the actual brunt of life.

anyways, i’m getting a little carried away here. all this to say, i just need to take time away from posting my works so i can see writing as something for myself n not for others again. i don’t want the thoughts swimming in my head to be thoughts of anxiety over people potentially criticizing me n my creative decisions. i want the thoughts in my head to once again be positive, excited, and nurturing towards my stories. i don’t see how i can accomplish that at this point unless i start writing for myself once more, and not for others

i still have a great deal of passion to write, which is why i haven’t formally taken down my works. i anticipate that i may be able to come back in the future to share my writing again. but as of right now, i just want to heal the relationship that i have with this hobby, and i feel like that’s gotta happen in private (lmfao it sounds like im tryna freak my writing)

i’m sorry that i turned off my asks n my replies, i know so many of u care about me n want to support me n i just am beyond thankful. i don’t anticipate this is a forever goodbye, but i do just need some time rn away from all of this.

hope u all have a happy time!! and take care of yourselves :) much love

- ellie

[exoticb-utters]

Hello!

So I saw that your requests were open, and would like to ask for a Hank McCoy (Wolverine and the X-Men) x Reader short story, if that isn't too much trouble. If that's not on the table, I'm sorry for bothering you.

YES OFC, I haven’t been writing much, and instead, I’ve been posting a lot more art so it’s about time I get back in touch with my roots 🙏🏽 (sorry this took me forever omg) pls enjoy 😘

Confessions

Hank x Mutant Reader Word Count: 2.7k Words

Mutant Power: Water Manipulation

You’ve been a member of the X-men for the last 3 years. Yes, that’s almost 3 years you’ve had a crush on Henry McCoy. 

I mean, how could you not? He was so sweet, and always put aside time for you whenever you needed it. He’s also, like, insanely hot…

While you do have a huge soft spot for Hank, everyone had given you a warm welcome when you joined of course, this team was your family. More of a family than your parents; who called you a freak for doing ‘tricks’ with their drinks.

You’d make frequent trips to the lab, knowing all too well there would be a big blue hermit waiting for you. As you did this, Hank could never bring himself to admit the embarrassing fact- but your frequent visits were the highlights of his day.

The rest of the team were amazing family to him of course, but no one checked in or visited Hank as often as you did.

Most of the time anyone usually ever came down was if they needed something; nothing this personal. It was new, but it was nice for a change. 

Your jokes with him never got old, and your smile that came with it could only make it better. The willingness you had to sit around and let him rant about the latest experiment that had him losing sleep, to even offer a hand with whatever he was struggling with. Your innocent praises glorifying how smart he was had him hiding his growing blush by looking behind a microscope. 

“I’m afraid blue blushes too, my dear…” He would joke, causing you to smile and chuckle. Ugh who loves a hot, funny nerd. You’d chuckle to yourself. 

Oh who was he kidding, Hank was head over heels. While he tries to use his brain to rationally sugar coat things, he knew he was helpless. 

Your attention to detail was incredible, you somehow remember all of his favorite things without fail. You were just so…thoughtful. 

He couldn’t help but feel a bit selfish, wanting more than your visits down to his lab, the long talks, your presence. He was going crazy.

Then, every night you’d find yourself laying awake in your thoughts, knowing he couldn’t possibly feel the same.

You’d never put your friendship on the line for something so…selfish. 

The thought ate away at your conscious, the numbing sound of your fan tuned out by your busy mind. You sigh, rolling over to your side while pulling your blanket with you. 

You don’t know why you were like this.

You and Hank are…friends. Which is fine- even though it hurts. You are fine with it, and you’ve been fine for the past 3 years.

…for the most part anyway. 

♡ ♡ ♡

You were now hanging out with Hank in his lab, legs dangling over the edge as you talked to each other. Something about a new opera showing happening in town.

Suddenly, you hear Xavier telepathically call for the rest of the X-Men to meet him in the control room, suited up. Must be a mission.

You were informed the Jaggernaut had escaped custody, again.

All X-Men that were on stand-by were now assigned on this task. The team consisted of you, Hank, Cyclops, Jean, Wolverine, Nightcrawler, and of course Storm. Stacked team if you say so yourself.

Everyone was in the Blackbird with the sole goal of neutralizing the Jaggernaut before he caused severe harm. 

Cyclops was put in charge, giving direct orders as he looked to you and Ororo. “I need you and Storm to direct him towards us, we need to keep him separated from civilians. Meaning I need a tall wall of water, Storm you freeze it making sure he won’t be able to get through.” 

You both looked to one another with nod. Scott then turns around to Hank who was piloting the jet. “Hank you go with them and watch from above and make sure things don’t get to out of hand. If they do we need your strength to counter-attack.” 

Hank replies with a “on it” before tilting the jet to left, bringing the stealth instrument closer to the designated location. 

“Logan you’re taking the wheel while those three get dropped down. Everyone else is with me.” Scott said finally while Hank clicked some buttons before switching with Logan. The bottom hatch of the plane opened up, allowing you, Storm, and Beast to exit. 

Storm flew to her position in the air, leaving you and Hank free falling towards the ground. Hank turned to look at you expectantly, blue hair blowing wildly in the wind. 

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” You chuckle. You outstretched your arms towards a nearby pond you spotted earlier. Pulling your hands back to your chest in a stream-like manner, a large funnel of water shot out towards you and Hank. 

You grabbed Hank’s arm as the funnel reached you, changing the water into a shape similar to a slide with your free hand. You surfed down the water, holding onto Hank making sure he kept up- and knowing him, it was also preventing him from falling off.

As you neared the ground, you spun the water into a wide spiral to slow down your momentum for an easy landing. 

“I’m still impressed you can do that with your hands.” Hank comments as you reach the ground, earning an amused huff from you. “Well it took some practice,” You trail off, your eyes now looking at his crazy wind blown hair. 

“Actually, I’m more impressed your hair can take that shape…” You snort, biting on ur fist to hold in your laugh. It looked like he had an insane cowlick…well, maybe if the cow had 4 tongues.

“…what?” He said before quickly bringing up a hand to his hair. While he was busy fixing his crazed hair, you spot Storm flying over.

“I’ve located the Juggernaut, he’s down the street!” She briefly informs you before taking off, flying further down the street. 

“Right right, back to business.” You say, waving an arm around yourself to recollect your water. Hank takes off, leaping after Ororo as you ride your stream of water. 

You hear loud commotion around your surroundings the further you went, hopefully you arrived in time. You spot the Juggernaut on the street, wildly flipping cars as if he were in a mad rampage. One was now launched and flying in midair- towards you, specifically.  

You expertly weave around it, spinning upside down in doing so. Before he can flip anymore cars you jump, using all surrounding water to form a wall as Scott instructed. 

You hear a crack of thunder overhead as you land, the air chilling and the clouds growing darker. With a strong gust of wind, the walls you made froze over. You see Storm fly into view along with the rest of the X-Men behind you.

Beast jumps onto a light post, swinging on the end before propelling himself onto the large wall of ice.

The Juggernaut’s actions were now solely limited to facing the X-Men head on. Realizing this, he began charging with full force towards the rest of the team.

“Get his helmet off!!” Cyclops orders before bringing two fingers to his visor, firing off his laser beams.

Night Crawler bamfs around the brute, landing on his shoulders for brief moments, attempting to unlatch the dome.

You shape your water into a whip, ready to attack if the villain closes in. You see Storm raise her hands, calling down thunder as lightning begins to target the Jaggernaut.

You even see Jean pressing her temple with two fingers, using her telepathy with the other outstretched hand to slow down the pursuer.

He wavered just barely under her prowess, the strong bolts only slowing him down slightly before Wolverine decides it’s time he steps in.

With a growl, Logan leaps towards him with his adimantium claws extended before being swatted away by the Juggernaut’s large hand.

Not a moment later he grabs onto Nightcrawler and tosses him aside as well, throwing him on top of Wolverine.

The X-Men were losing options, and fast.

You had to do something.

You swing your water whip from underneath the Juggernaught before quickly whipping it back against his head, effectively tripping him and causing him to topple toward.

Before he could regain his footing completely, you call back all your water to blast him with as much force as you could muster.

And…It was working! He was regressing in distance.

…Until he took a step.

And then another.

And another.

It wasn't long before he began fully charging toward you.

Your concentrated expression quickly fell to one filled with fear and disbelief. “Watch out!” You heard Jean, Scott, and Cyclops warn in unison.

Their cries were all in vain, a large hand splashing out of the water had taken hold of your face. You felt your feet lift off the ground as you were directly dangling in the air, at the mercy of an unstoppable force. In this position, the Jaggernaught could easily crush your skull if he so pleased.

“I will find Xavier. And I will make him pay.” The brute speaks as his grip on your head steadily tightens, your chest burning as you screamed in sheer horror at the increasing pressure.

From above, Hank was almost hesitant to give away his position as the others before you attacked- he knew they could hold their own. But watching you face the Juggernaught head-on…Seeing how your life was in such jeopardy, hearing your screams, Hank had no second thoughts about intervening and saving you.

With a distant roar, you hear Beast come down on the Juggernaut. He releases you, but at the cost of you falling; and of course- hitting your head on the pavement.

Your head began pounding, ears ringing as the corners of your vision grew fuzzy with dark spots. All you could see was a flurry of blue viciously wrestling with a large brownish blob. More figures rushed into the picture before a redhead precluded your vision, concern written all over her face.

“Stay with me! Don’t close your eyes and just listen to my voice…“ Her words began to fade out as the black dots in your vision clouded the world around you.

Your head rolled to the side, your closing eyes finding the blue figure before your heavy eyelids inevitably shut.

Hank.

♡ ♡ ♡

You slowly awoke to a steady beeping of a monitor nearby, your eyes softly fluttering open. Looking up to the ceiling, you recognized it as the flat cement ceiling of Hank’s Lab.

Before you could get up, you felt the intense throbbing pain coming from the back of your head. Had you really hit your head that hard?

Well if it had knocked you clean out it must’ve been…

“You’re awake!” You hear a familiar voice call out to your right. It wasn’t long before a blue face came into view, blocking the blinding glare of the overhead fluorescent lights.

“How are you feeling?!?” Your vision slowly focused in on the figure in front of you. “Good…I think.” You slowly sit up, rubbing the back of your head tenderly.

You notice you had an IV inserted into your right forearm. Without another thought you removed it, ready to go…to wherever you were needed.

“Woah, there- you should slow down it’s been…a bit and you're still recovering.” Hank warns, grabbing your wrist to keep you from moving any further.

You looked to his face…he was worried??? “Hank, I’m fine! See?” You said reassuringly; though, Hank himself didn’t find himself too convinced.

“Hey, what are you so worried about?” You ask, brows drawn together hoping to get a straight answer out of him.

He was worried about you, obviously. You suffered several traumatic head injuries within a short span of time! If you had not been a mutant…he didn’t even want to think of the possible outcomes of that situation.

Hank sighed heavily, organizing his racing thoughts. “I thought I’d lost you.” He managed to drag out.

Huh?

Scared??

That he lost...YOU?!?

“Hank, I think I’ve suffered greater injuries. You should know this.” You say with a small laugh before quickly stopping, his solemn expression instantly killing your attempt to lighten the mood.

His large hands grab your wrists firmly. “You have been out for a month.” His words shook you, so much so that you found yourself shaking your head in disbelief.

You hadn’t been out for longer than a day, right?

Hank must’ve sensed your reluctancy to believe your current situation because he started again. “You suffered several fractures to your skull, luckily, nothing broken or opposing threats to your brain. Unfortunately the stress your skull took on added with the hard contact of the ground practically split your head open.” He explained, running a hand down his tired face.

You hadn’t realized this had happened. “But I’m…I’m okay now, aren’t I?” You ask hesitantly, raising a hand up carefully to the back of your head. You felt stitches, running up the back of your head. Your stomach dropped.

“I performed an emergency medical procedure…which I won’t go into details with you so soon…” He sighed heavily once again, plopping down in his wheeled office chair.

“I hadn’t realized…” You quietly trailed off while fidgeting with your fingers out of nervous habit.

Hadn’t realized what? How bad the situation was? How worried the other X-Men must be? How much Hank went through to make sure you were well?!?

“Please, it isn’t your fault. If anything, this situation has made me realize something…” Now it was Hank’s turn to dramatically pause, his head in his large, blue hands.

“What? What is it?” You ask nervously, fearing your health was in critical condition at this point.

He grabbed you by the shoulders once again, looking into your eyes deeply, “Because…because I fear I’m falling in love with you.”

You stared in utter shock. Had you heard him correctly? He feels the same way?!?

“I-I want to come home to you, to kiss you like it’s been eons since I last saw your face. I need you safe, I don’t know how I’ll live with myself if you aren’t-” You didn’t need to hear anymore. 

You grabbed him by his lab coat, pulling him into you as your lips pressed together in a flurry of passion.

He held onto you, hungrily chasing after your lips as he poured all the love he’d helplessly held in for so long.

Your hands slowly slid up his broad chest and towards his neck, finding themselves tangled in his soft hair. “Hank” You sighed against his lips, the kiss ripping all oxygen from your lungs and leaving you breathless in the process.

He groans into your mouth in response, his tongue running against your bottom lip, silently begging for access.

Your heated ‘session’ was abruptly cut short by the lab door sliding open. Hank shot up, nearly taking a tumble trying to remove himself from you- to avoid any suspicion of…previous actions of course.

Though, the scene didn’t look too convincing; seeing how Hank’s glasses laid crooked on his face and his hair was well tussled. You had to cover your giggle at his appearance.

It was Morph, Cyclops, and Logan. They all start laughing, causing the rest of the X-men to come in, groaning in defeat.

“Woah, woah- were all of you just standing outside the door?!?” Hank exclaimed.

“Pay up, daddy’s waiting.” Logan holds out a hand expectantly towards the other X-Men, a smirk displayed across his face while completely ignoring Hank.

“I knew I should’ve bet with Logan.” Rogue mumbles, fishing out money from her pockets along with the rest of the team.

Oh yes. This was only the beginning of a long, beautiful (and heavily teased) relationship with Hank.

I hope you enjoyed this cute little one-shot! ;)

If you want more like this or want something written, please hit up my ask box! Requests are always open 💕 Until next time🫡🫡

-Mae

[banquetwriter]

୨୧ untitled ୨୧

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ crying, major deppression

summary: ʚ you go through a depressive episode and Johnnie helps ɞ

Words: 1777

An: so this was horrible for me to write and I'm so so sorry

Guilt was racking through your body. You don't have any energy left in your body nowadays, it's the reason you haven't posted in almost two months. It's the reason your room and subsequent house are filthy. It's the reason why no matter how hard you try you never ever seem to fit in.

Your cheeks are tear-stained, and you haven’t washed your face in god knows how long. You've showered sure, but you haven't done your proper skincare in weeks.

Your depression has been a part of your life for as long as you can remember. It gets better, sometimes, other times it drains you of everything you have. Every day felt like a battle for you. You sigh looking at your phone it is almost 4 pm.

Your boyfriend, Johnnie, had texted you almost 2 hours ago. The rough nights you experienced led you to wake up late in the afternoon, so the plan usually involved Johnnie heading over whenever you woke up or after he was done filming.

He has wished you a good ‘morning’ and to let him know when he could head over. You wanted to indulge, truly you did, but Johnnie didn't deserve that. He had enough in his life to worry about. There was no need to worry him with your pathetic life.

The issue is you couldn't keep him on the hook like this. You sighed picking up your phone, you numbly typed out a plain excuse, telling him today wouldn't work. You put the phone down and roll over in your bed again.

You sat curled in a little ball staring out your window. There were crows sitting on top of the next-door building. You sat and quietly observed the birds, watching them move side to side. You wish life were that simple, all you had to worry about was eating and flying around.

You didn't have to worry about the eternally crushing depression that sucks your life form. Your face heated up again with the thought of Johnnies, tears pooling in your eyes.

You missed him so much. He was such a caring loving person, it wasn't always easy for him to show that. He had his ways though. Always make sure you eat, get decent sleep, etc.

Your relationship was usually the opposite way, you know just how much he struggled. You were going to be there for absolutely all of it no matter what. Nothing was going to stop you from loving him. He shouldn't have to worry about you.

But he did, it was the reason why when he saw your texting while editing he immediately called you. You were always such a beacon of positivity for him. He knew the signs, from himself and his friends. You had stopped eating unless he forced you to.

You were wearing long sleeves and sweatpants only. You never went out, just stayed in your room. He can't even remember the last time you said more than a few words to him in a single conversation. He placed the phone next to his ear and nervously tapped his foot on the floor of his room.

“Hello?” you answered with a croak. Johnnie never called you unless he really really missed your voice. Which for him was usually the case when it was nighttime. Those were extreme cases, he hated talking on the phone and absolutely despised it. Too many nerves for him.

He didn't speak for a second, half expecting you not to answer for some reason. “Hey,” he starts. You hold your breath for a second knowing what the conversation was about before he even started to speak.

“Can I please come over? I'm worried about you.”Johnnie says over the phone, fiddling with the zipper of his jacket. You inhaled with a shaky breath. “You can. It won't be a lot of fun though,” you mumbled back to him fiddling with your piercing.

“Well- when can I come over?” he asked. This awkward tension filled the phone line, the systematic white noise causing your heart to beat heavily. “Whenever you want Johnnie I'm not leaving the house anytime ever,” you reply sarcastically earning an annoyed grunt from Johnnie.

“I can be over soon, I'll let you know when my Uber shows up and I'm on my way ok?” He knew your bad attitude was because of something, and no matter how much it was upsetting him he needed to be here for you.

You on the other hand could cry from guilt. How dare you be a pathetic sack all day, cancel on your boyfriend only for him to kindly offer to be there for you and you are rude to him? On top of that, he has to pay to drive to YOUR house! “No Johnnie don't call an Uber I will come pick you up.” you offered, standing up and searching for your keys.

“I thought you weren't leaving.” he rebutted. You took a deep breath, “but I love you, so I'm not gonna make you pay to cheer me up ok?” you spoke finally finding your keys. “I don't want to stress you out.” you heard over the phone.

You tried to fight his kindness but after a minute it was clear he wasn't going to let you drive. Today was a relaxing day for you, at least it was supposed to be.

You were a protector, it's what made Johnnie fall so in love with you. You were so kind and caring for him, constantly taking care of him when he had those days when he just couldn't take it anymore.

You never did it with the intention to receive it though. So when Johnnie knocked on your door and you trudged to open it for him it shocked you how much he did care.

You tried to make yourself look strong but as your eyes locked tears pooled crowding your vision. You turned away from the door and him as you covered your face with your hands.

You couldn't stop the pull of dread that filled your heart. You felt your knees touch the floor as you collapsed onto the ground. You could hear the door close and Johnnie rushed to your side. He was speaking about something, maybe he was saying how you were going to be ok.

Maybe he was begging you to tell him what was going on. You weren't sure. All you could focus on was ringing in your ears, the thumping of your heart, and the crocodile tears that leaped from your face.

His hands ran against your back and shoulders. Eventually, you were able to look up at him. He wasn't wearing any makeup, just a hat with a button-up and skinny jeans. All you could mutter out was a broken “I'm sorry.”

Your voice cracked and shattered as you spoke. Your boyfriend and the love of your life stared at you back, his face heating up his own tears forming. He sat with you behind your couch on the floor.

“Let's move to the couch,” he said his voice coming out falsely confident, you shook your head, yes taking his hand that helped you up. He wasn't used to helping people like this, he would try his best and maybe give advice.

But he tried to do what you did with him. He sat you down on the couch, taking note of your appearance. You had dulled messy hair, dark almost permanent circles under your eyes, you looked pale and gaunt your face seemingly shrunk.

He rushed away from you, getting you a cup of water, something you did for him without fail. He set it in your hands knowing the coolness would ground you. He moved to your side sitting down next to you. He hesitantly placed his hand on your chest feeling your heartbeat.

It was rapid and intense as he pulled you close to him, wrapping his other arm around you and tilting his head on your shoulder. As you slowly sipped the water between hiccups he felt your heartbeat slow and your breath wasn't so rapid. You were calming down.

Once you finished your cup you set it down and shifted so your head was resting on his almost bare chest. He moved his hat off and sat normally on the couch as you cuddled up to him. He wasn't sure what he should say that could help.

After all, he wasn't very good at this but he so desperately wanted to be. “I don't know when this really started for me. As long as I can remember I was different. Things that seemed so small for other people worried me so much,” you spoke, finally breaking the silence.

He knew some of your past and struggles but nothing too deep. He wanted to hear them from you. This was the best way to do that. He didn't say anything yet, he just looked down and observed you as you played against him.

“I felt this feeling when I was all alone and it was cold and rainy outside. It was almost like a shiver up my spine. I was feeling so safe and protected all alone like that, if I hadn't frozen I could have stayed in the rain forever.” he wasn't sure where exactly your story was going but he knew you and he also knew it was important.

“I was so comfortable with being alone, that stayed with me. There are days more often than not when I cannot do anything. I sit and rot in my bed all day, I don't sleep, I don't eat, I don't do anything.” Johnnie did not know that. He knew since he was busy with filming you often just stayed home.

It doesn't sound like that was a good thing, however. “I am drowning but I've pretended to stay afloat for so long. I'm so fucking tired Johnnie I don't know what I'm going to do anymore.” Your voice was calm but powerful.

You didn't move but you could hear Johnnie's heartbeat increase. “I haven't taken care of myself in so long.” this was whispered, for a second you weren't sure if you had said it out loud. You suppose you did when Johnnie pulled you away from you, your confession hung on the air like wet clothes.

He took a second before he nearly engulfed you with a hug. He squeezed your whole body tight, “Please don't leave.” was all he whispered in your ear. He cradled your body tightly. He slowly started to rock you back and forth. The lull of his body slowly sent you to sleep.

[booquip]

Firstly I wanted to say thanks so much for all the love on my first post! I enjoyed writing it a lot and hope you all had a fun time reading it! I hope you all enjoy this one just the same! ☺️☺️ Not going to lie I really struggled to incorporate two head cannons I had into a one shot fic, so apologies if the writing is super mangled. ): As always feedback and constructive criticism is appreciated!! (I haven’t caught up with JJK in a minute so sorry if my memory is hazy causing me to use incorrect info.)

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!Reader x Geto Suguru

Summary: Satoru seeing you before him and Suguru leave for a mission. (written from multiple POV's) ( I like to think that along with Satoru's lack of spacial awareness he lacks emotional awareness when it comes to himself while Suguru is like okay I feel this way now wtf do I do, which both of them can bond on once Suguru helps Satoru realize he’s not dying and that he is in fact in love with reader.)

word count: 1,149

 “Gojo-san!” You say with that airy smile you always have. You go on even more missions than them yet how do you always manage to have a smile on your face? You run up to him still all smiles and giggles. Why is it that you’re always running? And why did you look so beautiful running towards him? Your hair was flowing heedlessly down your shoulders as you came to a stop. Both of you sitting on the grass as he rests his head in your lap. (It became routine ever since he had spotted you one day reading a book lying on the grass mindlessly munching on whatever snack it was that you were eating that day.)

He looks up only to be met with those encapsulating doe eyes of yours. Many would argue that his eyes were the ones full of prowess but how could that be true when one look from your glistening eyes had him falling to his knees. He was having the worst of worst days about…wait what was it about again?

Ha- See what he means?

“Ahh Gojo-san are you listening?” Your voice jolts him out of his spiral. How long had you been speaking for? He scratches the back of his neck letting out a light laugh. Your face mere inches away from his. The words had come out of his mouth before he had time to stop them.

“You have pretty eyes Y/N.”

He feels heat rush to his face as the words pored out of him.

You feel as if the world around you both has been silenced. No not silenced you think, it’s almost like it has decided that just the two of you are allowed to bask in its beauty. You slowly blink at the notion of his words, beginning to come back to your senses. Has he gone mad? The Satoru Gojo, complimenting the likes of you. You wanted to hear it more, hear him more. He probably—no he deffinetly didn’t mean it like that. Gojo-san is known for his outbursts and this was just one of them. You make attempts to ease the fast paced thoughts. If there truly was no meaning behind his words, why did his voice sound so sultry so—

“hahaaha jeez Y/N you take everything so seriously.”

You notice him hide his face in his hands and you think it’s just to mask his laughter so you dismiss his words all together.

“Ah my apologies Gojo-san didn’t you have a mission to attend to with Geto-san?”

Why did you ignore his comment? He knew he dismissed it first. He knew it was unwarranted but still— did you just not take it, take him, seriously— why is he so angry right now? Why does he feel as though his heart has been ripped out of his chest? Why does he feel dejected? Why? Why? Why?

The furrow in his brows is uncommon to you and before you can question it, you feel a hand gently graze the top of your hair. You look up to see the one and only Suguru covering the glaring sun from your field of view as you peered up to look at him. "Ah Geto-san, hello!"

Satoru's voice is whiney while he speaks his distaste for the mission. “Ugghhh do I really have to go? I would much rather stay here.” Suguru sighs in contrast to Satoru it's almost foreign to hear him complain. “Yes, Satoru we unfortunately do also the auxiliary manager is going to get mad if we don’t show up soon.” Oh that's when you’re reminded you almost forgot the main reason you approached Gojo-san in the first place.

“Geto-san before you leave take these!” As you pull out the coffee-caramel flavored hard candies from your pocket and into his hand, he looks at you with the most quizzical expression.

“You don’t like the taste of curses, do you?”

He looks at you wide eyed, you take that as a sign to continue.

“I know these won’t change the taste also that your not much of a fan for sweets hence the coffee flavor, but I hope that it makes you forget even if it’s just for a little while. Please eat them after your missions! I hope you find them useful!” Your explanation (that wasn't really an explanation) still has him stunned. You had only went on one mission with them. Was he that terrible at masking it? No he was sure he did well as Satoru never questioned him for it.

For an airhead you sure are observant.

And that's when it hit him the realization crashing down on him all at once. How could he not have seen it sooner? The way he would smile at the mere thought of getting to see you in class. The way his cheeks would heat up whenever it was just the two of you alone. The way he would always go out of his way to make you smile. Oh your breathtaking smile. It was contagious, motivating others on the most depressing of days. He could internally beat him self up right now for being so dumb.

He was in love with you.

And with the way his best friend looked at you he was sure that he felt the same way too.

He's pulled out of his trance when he hears you about to apologize. “I’m sor-"

“Thank you Y/N.”

He says with a smile so sincere, it's then and only then you finally understand why people would go to the end's of the earth for their loved ones. You would go to the ends of the earth for your friends even if it meant killing yourself in the process. It would have all been worth while-- His smile was so precious— so welcoming you couldn’t help but return it hoping to reciprocate even a sliver of the energy back. Is it selfish to wish for this moment to last forever? You three in this moment without the fear of curses? Was that really such a selfish ask?

Satoru laying in your lap while Suguru is on your side shoulders almost touching. Satoru makes a loud pout. “Hey… where’s my candy.” You can’t help but let out a deep belly laugh, sometimes he is just so predictable. You couldn't decipher his face when he heard you laugh since he had quickly gone back to pouting. “What are you laughin fo-“ He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before you peel a birthday cake flavored toffee and slip it into his mouth. “ Haha I’m sorry Gojo-san, sometimes you really are just so predictable.” Suguru also can’t help but laugh at the spectacle before him. Satoru keeps his head in your lap for the duration of your time together. As all your laughing dies down, you can’t help but feel content in this moment. Continuing to selfishly wish it would last a lifetime…

Jeez im super tired after writing this. It takes way longer than one would expect. This took like 9 hour's to write with no breaks and it could still use some tweaks ( I'm just super lazy haha) Props to all writers out there because this shit is so draining. Again feedback and constructive criticism is alway appreciated love you all!! Oh wait I would love to make readers strength contrast with her personality like she's super clueless in every other sense but smart in battle and before Gojo or Geto she becomes the first special grade but I'm not too sure. Im just tired of seeing the weak Y/N trope lol.

[its-time-to-write]

i hold it like a grudge - ch. 2

I forgot to mention, the chapter titles/series name comes from the song, “the grudge.” I’d highly recommend listening to it at least once to get the feel I was going for in this fic, or at least what influenced parts of it.

table of contents try to be tough

It’s raining, not completely unusual for early August, and it feels like a reset. The air smells clean and fresh, and you know that it’s going to be a slow workday. You pull out your computer and check up on your online orders and update some posts on social media. You’re gaining serious traction, with reposts and likes from some American celebrities. Shit, with the way things are going, you could sell your flat and buy an actual house.

The grudge you hold against Jamie doesn’t seem so huge at the moment. It’s still there, but it no longer feels as though he pulled the rug out from under your feet. For the first time, you’re allowed to think about other things than the struggle he left you with. For example, why did he leave you in the first place? You hadn’t considered about it since cutting up everything he ever gave you, too busy with the all-consuming thought how will I survive?

It hurts, hurts much more than you think it still should. 

The two of you grew up together in the same council estate, right next to each other. You terrorized the neighbors while your mothers discussed money and shared food and scrounged together what they could to support both of you. 

When you got older and he was scouted for footie and headed for the academy, you still called him almost every day. He’d listened when you cried about your mum and watched her fade away right in front of you.

He’d gotten leave and come home for her funeral, and helped you pack everything up to either sell or to move next door with Georgie.

Jamie had been there for every part of your life, just as you’d been there for him when his dad came around, or he got yelled at by his teachers. 

He knew you, knew how much it meant that he stayed. Knew how much the support meant, and the way you both had clawed your way to get at least close to the top.

This plagues you as you wrap pickup orders for the day and place them in their spots behind the counter. 

You’re coming to the conclusion that he did it on purpose, that he must have known exactly what he was doing and somehow decided you deserved it, when a customer comes in out of the rain.

“Morning!” you say. “I have your order all ready for you. And it’s all paid for, so nothing else is needed on your end.”

Keeley says “Thanks,” with far less energy than she showed the other day with Jamie.

You ask, “You alright?” before you can stop yourself. 

She huffs out half a laugh. “Yeah, fucking great. Life’s just peachy at the moment, as I’m sure you’ve read in The Sun.”

You hadn’t, but you’ve a good guess what it has to say.

“I’m sorry,” you say as she takes the earrings. 

She just laughs again, short and grating. “Yeah. Y’know, I’ve been on all your socials. Read your website about empowering yourself and all that. Part of the reason why I wanted to come here, actually, y’know, fucking… girls supporting girls.”

You nod, unsure of what to say.

“I’m glad you’re getting the success you deserve, babes. Your bio said you went through a lot of shit to get here. Guess I’m still in my ‘lot of shit,’ part of life, you know? Anyway.” She goes to leave, jewelry tucked safely into her purse.

You think, fuck it.

“Keeley?” you ask hesitantly. She turns back around to face you.

“I just- I’ve been with someone who didn’t value me. Who didn’t hold himself accountable. It didn’t start that way at first, it was a lot of fun, but it ended up hurting me. I haven’t been able to trust anyone like that since, and I don’t want you to end up like me. You don’t have to stay with him. You can have a whole life all on your own, you know?”

Keeley gives you a small smile, says, “Thank you,” and heads out the door.

—

I deserved it.

Those words ring in your head as you walk home. You don’t bother to open your umbrella, opting to let the rain fall as it will in some form of absolution.

I deserved it.

You shut the door to your flat and drop your clothes on the way to the shower. You turn the knob to scalding, and let the suffocating steam fill the bathroom.

I deserved it.

The rain hits the roof with more force as you drink half a bottle of wine in lieu of dinner. It’ll hurt you tomorrow, but you don’t work tomorrow.

I-

No. It’s 3am, and you’re awoken from vivid dreams of your mum and Georgie and Simon, of Keeley, and of fucking Jamie. 

No. You didn’t- you don’t deserve it. 

“No,” you say aloud. “I know how to swim. I made it.”

With that pronouncement, you pull your blankets tighter around you, slipping easily into a dream where your mum holds you and whispers, “I’m so proud of you.”

—

It’s another rainy day in Richmond. The sky is dark and cloudy, and you can hear the sound of drops hitting the pavement as soft music plays in the shop. You haven’t seen Jamie or Keeley in a while, but his face is stuck all over Richmond, just like you predicted. 

Every time you see it, you think a calm, fuck you and continue walking. You didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve you.

You’re working on an order when the door chimes and Keeley Jones breezes in.

“Hi, welcome back! Jamie buying you more jewelry?”

Keeley grimaces. “Broke up with him a bit ago, actually. Thought a lot about what you said about accountability, then a friend of mine used the exact same word. It’s a little bit shit, but like you said. I can have a whole life all on my own, yeah?”

“Yeah!” you hastily reassure. “I promise you, it’s fucking brill without him. Hard at first, but you have to know your value.”

She grins a little half-grin and places the Keeley earrings on the counter.

That’s not unexpected, people often want to get rid of gifts from their ex, but you do still have a business.

“I’m so sorry about your breakup, but we can’t really do returns. Everything’s custom, so…” you trail off.

“Oh!” Keeley says. “No, I actually came back because I really fucking love these earrings, and I want something else to go with it. What d’you recommend?”

“Oh!” you parrot. “Well, we have necklaces. The charms are the same style, I can make a mockup for you if you give me a minute.” You turn around to pull out some boxes, and hear the door jingle. The air in the room changes ever so slightly and you know without looking who has just stepped in.

Jamie looks back and forth between you and Keeley, like he didn’t expect to see either of you there. 

That fucking drowning feeling, the one you worked so hard to get over, comes back in full force. 

“Hey,” Jamie says hesitantly, “um, I’ll just-” 

He leaves as quick as he came.

Keeley gives you a strange look. “What the fuck?” she laughs. “Was he looking for me? How the fuck did he know where I was?”

You tear your eyes away from the space Jamie just occupied. It’s been what, a month since the first time he came into your shop? Longer? It feels right and wrong somehow, like it’s both at once; you and him, in the same room, just like it’s always been. Like no time has passed. 

But time has passed, and more importantly the time for you to respond to Keeley has passed. You’ve been quiet a beat longer than normal, and she catches it. Keeley’s a smart girl, smarter than she’s given credit for. She’s puzzling out all the information she has, and you can practically hear it all bouncing around in her mind.

Something clicks into place. You see it in the way Keeley’s entire expression changes. She claps a hand over her mouth and exclaims, “Oh shit!” 

You don’t have a a chance to say anything because she looks at you with horror in her eyes and says, “It was Jamie.”

“What do you mean?” you ask carefully. 

Keeley’s still processing. “It was Jamie,” she repeats. “That’s your ex. The one who didn’t hold himself accountable, the one you said cheated on you. Oh my god, I’m the other woman! How could I do that to you?”

Keeley is having an epiphany mixed with a heart attack.

“You didn’t know!” you argue. “You didn’t know, and you never would have done it if you had.”

“I’m so fucking sorry,” she moans.

You grab her arm. “Keeley. You. Didn’t. Know. It’s been over a year. I’m fine.”

She snaps out of it a little bit, but still looks dazed as she says, “Why the fuck have you been so sweet? You knew exactly who I was.”

You lift a shoulder. “Jamie… he’s like a magnet. I dunno. I get what it’s like when he looks at you, it’s like you can’t believe that someone that wonderful even notices you. And I guess I understand why he dumped me, you know? We’ve known each other since we were kids and it’s fine if you have a regular job, but if you’re a fucking Premier League footballer… probably best to stick with models.”

Keeley walks over to the door and flips the sign to “closed.”

You look at her quizzically, but she just leans against the door and whispers, “I didn’t know you knew each other that long.”

There’s no good response to that statement, so you chew on your lip. For a long moment, you two just stare at each other.

Finally you say, “Okay. Fuck this. We’re going to my flat and we’re going to eat a shit ton of food and get absolutely smashed.”

table of contents

[aeneaans]

second chances

synopsis: after 3 years, diluc finally returns to mondstadt.

word count: 608

c/w: angst sorta… hurt/comfort

a/n: yet another repost from ao3 because i do not have the time to write anything these days… didnt expect my last post to get so many notes THANK YOU!!!! thank u for reading :3 (ps might open reqs soon. idk im working on a lot of stuff for tumblr)

It was dead silent. In a small alley in Mondstadt stood you and Diluc, standing parallel to each other as your face burned, tears sliding down your cheeks. No words have been exchanged ever since tears started welling up in your eyes. The lack of words was awkward and almost deafening, yet it didn’t matter to you. You were furious and you hadn’t even a clue as to why. The man that stood in front of you was clearly frustrated as well, but his frustration didn’t seem to be directed towards you. Rather, it was a frustration directed towards himself. Why? Why couldn't he say anything?

Biting your lips, you start, “Seriously, what…what is wrong with you?” Your voice is trembling, almost as if your words are struggling to escape. Whenever you got angry, you could never put your thoughts into words. Your only reaction to anger was to cry. To cry, and to never stop crying until you had sorted out these thoughts. Knowing you for so long, Diluc has taken note of this peculiar habit of yours. Even if he could say anything about the current situation, he would know best to not do so.

Words were practically stuck in your throat. You didn’t want to say anything to hurt him, yet you can’t help but be upset with him. That’s only natural, right? You inhale. “You leave Mondstadt for so long and—and you come back just to not be able to say anything.” Your voice is breaking in between each word. “Say something!” Your voice was hoarse, despite not having said much at all. Your attempt at a shout was more of a meek yelp. Diluc didn’t say anything, nothing at all. He just…stood there. You wipe your eyes quickly, your breath hitched, and attempt to regain your composure.

After a few minutes of absolutely nothing, you manage to regain your composure. You knew it wasn’t his fault. You knew that leaving Mondstadt wasn’t something he wanted to do. So why couldn't you forgive him?

“I hate that you left us. I hate that you left me. But I hate myself for wanting to hate you, too.” Diluc looks up at you, surprised. “I know you didn’t have a choice to leave. I couldn’t even imagine what you went through when Crepus died.” You sigh. Crepus was more of a dad to you than your actual parents were. You know how much worse Diluc had it. “So why do I feel this way?” Diluc clenched his fists. What is he going to say? Was he even going to say anything at all? You shut your eyes.

Finally, Diluc opens his mouth to say something. “I’m sorry.”

You held your breath, not knowing what to say. “…Huh?”

“You have every right to hate me.”

With this, your eyes started pouring again. Though, the tears felt much lighter this time. What is he talking about? You let out a small laugh at the stupidity of this situation. How is it that both of you feel sorry? You step closer to him, ignoring his apology. “Do you understand how much I missed you?” You look him in the eyes for the first time in three years. Three years. “I can’t bring myself to hate you, even after this. There wasn’t a day that went by where I haven’t thought of you.” You grit your teeth, clenching your fist slightly before relaxing your body. With that one statement, Diluc’s eyes widened. It’s a rare sight, really. “Promise me you wont leave me ever again. Please.”

Diluc pulls you to his chest and gives you a tight embrace. “I promise.”

[lucygxybaird]

Can I request vampire! Billy? You have to to feed him to get his strength back and he’s always refused to bite you (it won’t turn you) but he has no choice and he’s just so gentle you’re not even uncomfortable with it and it’s a really bonding experience

blood tw, injury tw this prompt is so cute and i feel like the result is not great but!! i hope you like it anyway

When you step into your cabin, you are reminded, in a sharp, sudden second, like a twig snapping underfoot, that humans are only animals in more fragile skins.

You freeze with the instincts of a prey animal, putting your back to the door. You press your lips together as your eyes pry at the shadows pooling in your front room, trying to find proof for the wordless certainty that slithered snakelike into your mind the moment you entered the front door. You aren’t alone in here. Your fingers grope blindly for the doorknob, preparing yourself to throw it open and dash back to the hitching post where you left your horse, when you hear a low groan.

All the pent-up breath rushes from your body. “Billy?” you whisper. “Is that you?”

Another soft groan, the sound of a throat being cleared with great effort. “Yeah.”

Now that you’re capable of greater understanding than a rabbit being harried by a fox, you reach for the lantern you keep on a peg by the door. There are matches in a bowl on the table underneath, and you use one to light the wick. The harsh rasp of the match-head scrapes against your still-frazzled nerves, and your fingers are trembling so badly that it takes you a couple of tries to get the lantern lit. 

“Sorry,” Billy mutters, sounding no better than the match. 

He can tell that you’re struggling to light the lantern, even before the warm glow of the flame fills the room. The feeble light of a sickle moon is more than enough for him to see by. He’s never gone into much detail with you about all that he’s capable of doing, because of what he is. He doesn’t even like to use the word, so you tend to avoid it, too, even thinking to yourself. But you do know his eyesight is much sharper  than yours — in fact, compared to his, all of your senses may as well be like rocks buried in a riverbed, blunted and dull. 

His superior abilities extend to his physical strength, too, which is why you’re especially stunned to see him like this. He’s sprawled out on your bed, not in a pose of relaxation, as if he’s waiting for you to come home; he looks more like a marionette whose strings have been cut, landing in a crumpled, broken posture that he can’t rouse himself from.

“Billy,” you breathe, rushing over to him and setting the lantern on the bedside table, holding his face between your hands. “Oh my God — what happened?” 

He smiles weakly, reaching up to gently — always so gently — grip your wrist. “Jesse,” is all he says, but it’s all he has to say. You clench your jaw, wishing you could go hunt that son-of-a-bitch down right now. 

Jesse and his gang are some of the most ruthless trackers out there, and they’ve always been obsessed with Billy in particular. Billy has hinted to a past with Jesse that he hasn’t told you about yet; all you know is their relationship goes back years, before Billy changed. You have to wonder if Jesse resents him for shedding his humanity, essentially leaving him behind — a part of you understands this ache, because you’ve felt it yourself.

Billy has told you over and over again that he’s never going to turn you, although you haven’t asked so much as hinted, hopefully. You don’t ever want to leave him, even if what separates you is the simple passage of time, age and illness wearing away at your body until it fails. He wants better for you, he told you, than doing whatever it takes to survive; and being turned, for him, was just a matter of survival. He, as always, will do whatever it takes to endure. His fight for justice in Lincoln simply isn’t done yet; now, at least, he’ll be able to pursue defending what is right for the rest of time.

Apart from being with him, it’s what you would do with your immortality, too. He’s insistent, though, just like he’s always been determined never to feed on you. You offered, once or twice, when being on the run made it difficult for him to hunt. He would simply scowl at you — or, at least, at the idea — and hunch his shoulders, saying he would make do. 

Once, in the velvet depth of night, when he was holding you as you drifted off to sleep, he admitted something to you that you aren’t sure he actually meant for you to hear. “I just don’t know if I could stop…”

Looking at him like this, though, you realize that he may not have a choice. His skin look as thin and translucent as wax paper, deep purple shadows visible beneath his eyes, and you swear his cheeks are more sunken than they were when you saw him just yesterday. His gaze is dull and unfocused, his lips pressed together as though bracing against pain. You take a deep breath, and Billy summons enough energy to shake his head. The effort makes his eyes roll back into his head for a moment, before he can focus on you again.

“No,” he croaks. “No.”

“Billy, you have to,” you say, and you’re already rolling up your sleeve. “Look at you. You look like you could be taken out by a squirrel.” He manages a weak chuckle, but that doesn’t deter you. “Just take a little from my wrist to get a little strength back.”

He hesitates, still clearly torn. “Baby — what…what if…”

Well, you think, if — then it won’t really matter to you, will it? You’ll be beyond caring. But you know it would haunt him for the rest of his days, which, as far as you know, will stretch into eternity. 

“I’m not afraid,” you tell him, which is true. The only thing that frightens you is the thought of losing him, especially when you have the power to save him. “Billy, please. If you don’t trust yourself, trust me. I’ll be okay. You need this.”

Billy swallows. You take this lack of protest as agreement, and you reach into your sewing basket, stowed under the bed, and bring up the tiny pair of scissors that you use for cutting thread. Without looking away from Billy, you cut into your arm, drawing the tip of a blade from one edge of your wrist to the other.

As soon as the line of red lifts away from your skin, a scarlet sunrise, you hold your hand out to Billy. You watch as his pupils bloom in his eyes, two obsidian moons that nearly obscure the blue of his irises. His upper lip skims back from his teeth, revealing a glint of white, and he takes hold of your wrist carefully, gingerly, like he’s afraid the slightest pressure will snap your arm in two.

He lifts your bleeding wrist to his mouth.

Your eyes slip closed as he begins to drink. It doesn’t hurt. If anything, it’s blissful, a warmth spreading through your body, starting where his mouth makes contact with your skin and spreading outward, sinking into your muscles and loosening them. Your head drifts back, all your breath pooling in the bottom of your lungs, making its way slowly in and out of your parted lips. You can feel your mind start to come apart, a cloud breaking up as it passes the moon, and your last coherent thought is that you can’t imagine giving this up.

Billy’s free hand cups the back of your head and lifts it back up, and you manage to open your eyes again. He draws you closer, your arm folding between you. His gaze is feverish, but as you watch, the dusky bruises under his eyes disappear, his face becoming full and glowing with health again. His thumb moves in soothing circles over the back of your hand, his fingers curling around yours. You feel entirely, utterly safe, not that you expected any differently. You can feel his adoration in every pass of his thumb against your skin, can feel the weight of it in his gaze, in his grasp. 

And you hope he can feel yours, in your  explicitly given yet unspoken trust, in the way you have not once flinched away from him, in every drop of your blood that passes his lips. 

When he finally draws your hand away from his mouth, you feel a little pang of disappointment.

He cradles your hand between both of us, lifting your knuckles to his lips and pressing a kiss there. “Thank you,” he says, and now his voice is steadier, warmer, the way you’re used to it being. 

It takes you a moment to find your voice. You feel like you’ve just woken up from a deep sleep, where it takes one a moment to return fully to the earth. “You don’t have to thank me,” you say. “Do you feel better?”

He reaches for you, pulling you into his lap. In the same fluid motion, so quickly you barely even catch it, he’s reached his hand into your sewing basket and torn a strip from a scrap of cloth, wrapping it around your wrist to staunch the trickle of blood still coming from the cut. You smile as you lean back against his chest. You’re sure of his answer just by the way he’s moving now, lithe and too graceful to be human, that he’s feeling better — and feeling more like he can be himself with you.

It doesn’t surprise you when he gives voice to your own thoughts. “I told you about what I am a long time ago, cause I knew from the start that I wanted to keep you,” he says. “But I…I always held back, cause I didn’t want to scare you off. Now…” He presses his lips to your temple. “I haven’t felt this much like myself in a long time,” he says against your hair. “I always felt like I had to hide, little bits and pieces, really, but…those add up, y’know? Especially over so many years, with so many people…”

You dig an elbow into his side. “How many of those people were women?”

Billy cups your jaw with one hand, turning your face toward his. You giggle when you see that he’s smiling. “Not that many,” he says. “And I never...” 

As the silence lingers, and he smiles with a shy duck of his head, you realize that if he could blush, he would be right now. You elbow him again, gently. “Don’t go getting bashful on me now,” you tease, and he laughs quietly. “You never what?”

“I never fed from any of ’em,” he admits, and you feel a rush of pride and pleasure so intense that it makes your head swim for a moment. 

“Why?” you ask softly. You settle back against his chest, and his arms tighten around you before he answers. 

“It just felt so — so intimate,” he admits. Now you’re blushing, and he chuckles softly in your ear. “More intimate than anythin’ else. The way you put your life in my hands without a second thought, how you fed me from your own vein. You didn’t hafta do that.” He lifts your bandaged wrist to his mouth and presses his lips to the material wrapped over the cut. “But you did. Cause you knew I needed you. Not many people would be so selfless, or so brave.”

You smile a little, shrugging your shoulders. “I love you,” you say. “Of course I’m selfless with you. I didn’t think of it was brave to let you take my blood, I just…” You turn onto your side, snuggling closer. Billy kisses the top of your head. “I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you, Billy. I always want me with you.”

Holding you closer, scooping you against his chest, Billy buries his face against the nape of your neck. “Honey, I promise, I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he says, and you hear the smile in his voice. The love. “Thanks to you.” 

[ash5monster01]

Getaway Camp : Eight

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x FemReader

Warnings: 18+, mentions of abuse, neglect, mentions of infertility, alcohol use, language, foreplay, sexual innuendos, physical attraction, illusions of smut.

Summary: After spending a day with Ezra, Charlie finds himself in an unlikely place with Valerie but it turns out to be one of the best nights of his life.

word count: 3.1k

Masterlist

Seven ←→ Nine

June 30th 1961

It’s a cool morning, colder than normal, more than likely considering the storm from the night before. Charlie didn’t even make it a step out his cabin before pulling on a sweatshirt. His rowers had gotten good enough he had started to join them and for the first time in his life he actually looked forward to sport than viewing it as a chore. Best part was he got to see Valerie on her lifeguard post every time he passed the dock. It was the best way to spend his mornings. Nothing could make his day better. Other than when he was actually with her.

“Gosh, you haven’t lost that dopey grin once since that girl kissed you” Ezra says from his easy chair. Since it was a chillier day, Charlie somehow found himself in the man’s cabin, helping build a puzzle to pass the time.

“Sorry Ezra, just been a long time since I was happy about something” Charlie tells him earnestly and the older man gives him a sad smile, feeling awful for the hectic life he already had lived. So young and so hurt by the world already.

"Well it's good at your age to be happy about a girl, it's healthy even. Sounds like you got a good one too" Ezra points out as he places another puzzle piece where it belongs. Charlie smiles and nods, already counting down the minutes until she finished her shift and he could snuggle up in his cabin with her. Especially on this cool and rainy day. Yet he wouldn't be surprised if she had some sort of party in mind, enough kisses from her pouty lips and big sad eyes, and he would cave.

"I did, actually surprised I got so lucky" Charlie says, a soft blush on his cheeks. Sixteen year old Charlie viewed woman as objects, something to obtain, and now it was so different. He appreciated Valerie, adored her even. If he ever dared disrespect her he's not sure he could live with himself.

“I’m not, good young men like you always deserve a kind young woman by their side” Ezra tells him with an earnest look, an honesty and strength behind his words.

“I’m not that good” Charlie mutters and Ezra snorts.

“Is anyone boy? We just do our best, it’s the ones who learn from their mistakes that make them good” he says with the point of his finger and Charlie thinks of his father. The man he should be free from and yet there was still that part of him that worked diligently to make him proud and still came up short.

Ezra sees the forlorn look on the boys face, the crease in his brow as he struggles with his emotions. He didn’t know much about the boy, just that he had a hard home life and had been kicked out of school. It wasn’t hard to tell he battled something so much deeper and that was a hard thing to do on your own. So he dared a change of topic. “You hear from your folks at all?”

Charlie flashes a look of surprise, not expecting the question. It takes a few moments for his brain to catch up with what he had just asked. “Just my Mom, I called the day I got here and a few more times after that. I figure I won’t ever hear from my Father again”

“You will, even if it’s something you don’t want to hear. He’s hard on you because he cares, you know that right?” Charlie feels immediately defensive, almost angry this man in front of him is defending his father’s actions. The man who had emotionally abused him his entire life, gave him a sense of worthlessness he still couldn’t shake.

“If he cared he’d call” Charlie sneers, slamming a puzzle piece into place and feeling an anger boil inside him that he hadn’t had in a long time.

“Look, I don’t know him personally, but if I had to guess he’s probably afraid to call in fear of rejection” Charlie scoffs at the notion, damn right amused by the suggestion. His father, king of stocks, afraid.

“Afraid of me, rejecting him? All he’s ever done is reject me. Ship me off to boarding schools, forget me on Holidays, refuse to comfort me when my best friend died. He don’t give a shit that he hasn’t heard from me” Ezra freezes at his words, not knowing all of this. Not knowing the boy probably lost the one person who loved him as he was.

“If I were to guess he probably didn’t know how to face all of that, face you. Angry fathers were once forgotten young men too” Charlie sighs with the shake of his head, dropping his eye line to salmon colored carpet in the living room.

“Yeah well, me and my Dad may never agree and I’ve accepted that. No use fighting for something I finally got to leave behind" Charlie mutters and Ezra takes his defiance as a suggestion to leave it alone for now. After all he never had a chance to be a father but he couldn't gurantee he wouldn't of screwed up just like Charlie's father did. Maybe not as bad and in a world where he did have kids, he hoped that didn't deem him a bad one.

"I just hope you don't come to regret that decision" Ezra says before taking a sip from his cup of coffee and picking up a fresh puzzle piece to hopefully find a place for. Much like Charlie just looking for somewhre to belong, a stray piece to a puzzle, hoping he might fit in the world. Charlie stays silent, reeling in his words and trying to fight the anger he feels. Especially the anger towards the older man who clearly just had good intentions. He wanted more control of his emotions especially since they were the very thing that turned his life upside down when Neil had died. The very thing that led him to hit Cameron with all his might.

“Hey what do you say to me meeting this girl sometime though, I’m sick and tired of watching you blush over her. Might as well make her dinner?” Ezra says after a while and Charlie can’t help the smile that cracks across his face.

“Yeah okay, I’ll see if she wants to do dinner” Charlie agrees and Ezra gives a wide smile, hand reaching to clap over his shoulder before focusing his attention back on the puzzle in front of him. This one much easier to figure out than Charlie.

When Charlie makes the trek back to staff camp the heavy clouds begin to drizzle rain. When he’s safe in his cabin it’s finally coming down, dampening the entire camp, and justifying the drop in temperature from the day. Andy is no where to be found, probably in Alice’s cabin and already drinking for the night. A party lifestyle Charlie never thought he’d struggle to keep up with. Either way he hoped Valerie wouldn’t drag him to some campfire he had to get soaked at.

“Ah that came from no where!” the girls squeals, barreling through his cabin door and dripping water. Charlie laughs from his bed, until he spots the denim dress on her form. She so beautiful he’s sure he’ll never get used to it.

“Oh Val, you don’t seriously want to hang out in the rain tonight do you?” he asks and she rolls her eyes, pushing the wet hair away from her face before sliding off her sandals.

“Not exactly” she says, sauntering towards him slowly and making sure he had a perfect view of the cleavage she had on display. It would come in her favor for what she was about to say next.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks as she plops beside him, leaning forward with a mischievous smile. Taking her time as she presses a soft and sweet kiss against his lips.

“What do you say to going to the Hideout tonight?” she asks and Charlie’s so lost in the taste of her it takes him a moment to process. When the question finally hits him his eyes widen, hands reaching to squeeze at her waist.

“And why would you want to do that? You said the Hideout was for lonely people looking for a dance and someone to take home” Charlie says and Valerie giggles, leaning against him.

“Yes but other campers can still go too. Besides I only want to dance with you tonight and take you home. Plus I’m all dolled up, would be a waste if I didn’t get to show it off” Charlie blushes at her suggestion, the image of keeping her in this cabin tonight entirely too taunting.

“Fine but you really should only be showing off for me” Charlie fake pouts and Valerie kisses it away, making the boy roll his eyes. He gives a soft squeeze to her waist, indicating for her to stand which she complies. On his way up he lands a soft smack to her butt before walking to the tall dresser in search of a different shirt.

“Wear that sexy black one again” Valerie coos, snaking her arms around his waist from behind as he digs through the drawer. Charlie snorts but finds the T-shirt anyway. Who would he be to say no to her?

“You gonna take it off this time?” Charlie asks, mostly teasing and Valerie breaks away from him, smirking as he changes the shirt.

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see Ace” she winks and the boy laughs before reaching for the liquor bottle on the desk. Andy must’ve taken the other one so Charlie settles for a long swig before passing it to the gorgeous girl.

“The only way I’ll survive this is with a buzz so drink up V” he tells her and Valerie furrows her eyebrows as she swigs the bottle anyway. Charlie’s tolerance had become much better since the first day of camp.

“Plan on forgetting it all?” she asks, hoping the boy actually looked forward to spending the night with her and not wiping it away with an excessive amount of alcohol and no recollection of her tomorrow.

“Absolutely not, any moment with you I want to remember forever. This is more for the sting of embarrassment I feel every time I see Nate trying to flirt with other women and Chrissy cry about it” Valerie snorts, loving him even more for this answer. How he had picked up on everything so quickly she didn’t understand but she appreciated having someone other than Levi to finally share this all with.

“Fair, now let’s go I want to dance!” she cheers, tucking the liquor bottle under her arm and hand reaching out for his own. Charlie just laughs as he takes it and allows the girl to drag him out of the cabin. The closer they get to the Hideout the easier it is to hear the loud music from inside. Flickers and pink and blue lights flash outside the gaps of the cabin. The outside itself was already intimidating enough but when Valerie has already started to shake her hips, and her hand squeezes his own, he follows her inside without question.

“No shit, Valerie in the Hideout” Nate greets them loudly over the music the second they come through the door. Valerie rolls her eyes and tugs Charlie a bit closer.

“I wanted to dance” she tells her friend, looking for any excuse because the last time she had been in the Hideout she made a decision she regretted immediately. The fact it all turned out okay would never not shock her. Now no mistakes could be made, she could dirty dance with her camp boyfriend and pretend the big question wasn’t looming overhead. The desire to know what would happen to them once camp was over.

“Isn’t that always the excuse?” Nate leans down and asks and based on the way Valerie’s jaw clenches Charlie knows Nate just struck a nerve. Suddenly her hand tightens against his own and starts to drag him towards the center of the dance floor.

“Bye Nate” she mutters, hazel eyes fading into a dark brown. Charlie glances between to two but decides it’s better not to ask. When they reach the center of the crowd Valerie is quick to weave her hand around Charlie’s neck and take another sip from the liquor bottle she had smuggled in.

“You okay?” Charlie asks and Valerie gives a curt nod, moving to set the bottle upon a table nearby before weaving her other hand around him.

“Yes now let’s dance, I wanna see what kind of moves you got Dalton” she says, that same teasing smile finally back on her face and Charlie laughs, his hands settling on her waist.

“I have to warn you, I’m not much of a dancer. Going to an all boys school didn’t provide many dancing opportunities” he tells her and Valerie giggles, the image of a younger Charlie having to dance with another boy amusing her to no end.

“Even if you had, it wouldn’t have been this kind of dancing” she says, head tipping to the crowd and Charlie finally glances around the room. Recognizing the faces of some staff and others not so much, huddled close to their partners, bodies flush together. Charlie can’t help the way his ears tint pink, suddenly feeling like he’s accidentally seen an intimate moment between two other people.

“You’re right, Nolan would’ve never let this fly” and even though Valerie doesn’t know who Nolan is she can only assume it’s someone from his school that had left a strong enough impression. One strict enough that it was his first thought.

“Well what do you say, few more drinks and some dancing?” and even if Charlie isn’t sure the kind of dancing she’s referring to is much like the dirty one he was seeing now, he agrees anyway just for the chance it might be.

As the night progresses and the drinks flow, Charlie comes to find that Valerie isn’t shy on the dance floor at all. He had to count to ten, and try to remember the Presidents in order, just to avoid a hard on at least six times so far. Yet her once wild and damp hair was now wild and curly, soft against his neck while her body was flush against his. She smelled like strawberries and was so warm, it was hard not to imagine her different ways. When she turns and presses her ass straight against his crotch, he’s sure he’s done for.

“You need to relax” Valerie tells him, guiding his hands to her stomach and rib cage. Charlie tries to loosen up, but now with him holding her steady she grinds herself softly back into him, and no amount of presidents or numbers could get him to calm down. Not even the image of Nolan in his underwear.

“I can’t, in fact you might have to walk in front of me on the way out of here” Charlie whispers into her ear and Valerie smiles wide, continuing her movements, knowing exactly what she was doing.

“I don’t mind” Valerie whispers back, voice heavy with lust, and Charlie knows she can feel exactly what’s happening to him right now. Yet instead of shying away Valerie grinds her ass against his length, enjoying to way he stiffens behind her. If there was a version of both heaven and hell, this would be it.

“I should’ve known” Charlie says, a soft growl into her neck and suddenly Valerie feels like a weak mess. Not expecting the possessiveness from him. The way his large hands grasp her body and pull her back into him, how he softly and slowly grinds his hard on against her. She can’t help how her thighs clench together, trying to hide how badly she needs him too. Trying to distract herself she settles into the music, finding a rhythm with his hips, hands lifting behind her and sliding into his hair as his lips find her neck in a hot kiss.

For the first time all night the pair are on the same page, drunk off of each other and the liquor flowing through their veins. There’s no worries about the future or the past. It’s just the two of them, falling in love, and coming to understand one another’s bodies. So when Valerie turns to face him, Charlie pulls her close, mostly to hide his situation, and press his lips against her own. Charlie shamelessly kisses the girl, tongue curling against her own, and memorizing the taste of her. She pulls gently at his hair and suddenly regrets even coming here tonight with the fire so strong between them. They should be alone.

“God where have you been all my life” Charlie breathlessly chuckles when her lips find his neck and she smiles against his skin, knowing she felt the exact same way.

“Waiting for the right moment” is the only response she gives and Charlie smiles, arms coiling around her waist and holding her close in a tight hug.

“What do you say to eating dinner some time with a favorite camper of mine, he’s dying to meet you?” Charlie finds the courage to ask and Valerie giggles, knowing this is quite possibly a version of Charlie wanting her to meet his parents. Show off the girl to someone special, make it more serious.

“I’d be happy too, just give me a day and time” she tells him and Charlie kisses her again, a happiness swelling in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. The old him climbing the surface and feeling safe again. Charlie couldn’t help but hope this would never change, that the bubble would never burst, and he could stay in this moment forever. Comfortable and happy with someone all over again. It was scary, undoubtedly, but it was also familiar. Like coming home after a long time and knowing that for one moment everything would be okay.

For Charlie he never really had a home and until this moment he never realized for him, home had always been the people he loved. He hadn’t been home ever since Neil died and he got kicked out school. Yet at this very moment, tucked in Valerie’s arms and dancing without a care in a world, he was home again and it didn’t feel as empty. This time, it felt like no matter what happened he would turn out okay. He wasn’t broken, at least not anymore.

Taglist: @eden-punk @octaviasdread @pursuedbyamemoryy @poetsinnyc @linmichea1

Comment if you want to be added to the taglist :))

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

Stormy Weather

Summary: While you’re struggling to get home from a month-long mission, Jeff and Natasha seek comfort from missing you.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1408

Warnings: None

A/N: Hiii, sorry I know I haven’t been posting much lately. I’ve had so many ideas, but I can’t seem to get them written in a way I actually like. Plus, my motivation to write only ever seems to come when I’m at work and can’t write 😭 I’ll try my best to start posting more regularly again but no promises, thank you all for sticking around :) comments and reblogs are much appreciated :)

This was also based on an ao3 comment from a fic MONTHS ago, that I just got round to actually writing 😭

Part of The Jeff Fictional Universe (you don’t need to read the others to understand)

—————————————————

Natasha rubbed her eyes harshly. Staring at the screen day after day was taking its toll. 30 days this would be; 30 days since you had gone on a mission that should have only been two weeks.

There were complications, and she knew you didn't have the time or the means to contact her directly. But she was exhausted, barely sleeping, needing to be there in case you *did* manage to get in contact. 

Natasha knew she couldn't have gone with you. No matter how much it would have alleviated her worries, she had other priorities. Working on the desk side of the same mission would be enough for her.

Patters of rain made Natasha jerk her head up. No light came through the window, but the circles of water indicated that the predicted storm was on its way. Natasha sighed; she'd been far too engrossed in work to even notice nightfall. She hoped Jeff had been okay with her absence.

After a sigh and a stretch, the door to the home office opened, and Natasha stepped out. A break was necessary, and some company would do her and Jeff some good.

—————————————————

Natasha reached the living room entrance before she paused, staying quiet to see a scene of innocence play out.

Jeff had padded right past her; the Blahaj he carried acted as blinders for his peripheral and even blocked some of his front-facing vision. Natasha watched as Jeff shuffled and hopped to see over his stuffed shark, before the sofa blocked her view. 

Natasha watched Blahaj’s tail slowly disappear before she followed. Jeff had been working longer than she’d seen, as pillows and blankets lined the sofa, along with a few stuffed animals you had bought for him. 

Jeff froze when he noticed Natasha was watching. The two stared, unblinking, for seconds that seemed to stretch. Then Jeff flopped, his back legs dropping into a seated position and his head bowing.

“Is that Y/N’s t-shirt?” Natasha asked gently, pointing at the white shirt half pulled over the Blahaj’s head. 

Jeff followed his nod with a dejected “mrrr”. Natasha knelt in front of him; she noticed tears beginning to form in his eyes. “Miss,” Jeff signed. 

The rain was getting heavier against the window, and Natasha knew the thunder and lightning were soon to begin. Jeff would need her comfort. 

“I miss Y/N too; it’s been just us for a while, huh?”

“Mrrr.” Jeff nodded again.

“Let me help you with this then,” Natasha stated, finally catching Jeff’s attention when she pulled Blahaj between them. Jeff pushed under Natasha’s outstretched arms to take a position on her lap, reaching out to pull the shirt on properly. 

Natasha’s expression softened; she could see how much Jeff missed you, yet all she could do was sit and wait with him. She hardly knew more about your whereabouts than the land shark, but at least he had the bliss that came with ignorance, lacking knowledge that you would ever be in danger. 

“Mrrr,” Jeff hummed, grabbing and stretching to wrap his arms around more than just the shirt. It pulled Natasha out of her thoughts, her focus returning to the room. A stuffed toy in her hands, the weight of the land shark on her lap, the sound of the rain and a distant rumble of thunder outside-

Jeff repeated his whine. Natasha bent her arms until Jeff could cling onto his plushie, wrapping his limbs around it as much as he could and squeezing it tight.

In turn, Natasha drew Jeff closer. Her hidden hand kept Blåhaj upright, knowing Jeff would reject the help but tumble off her lap without it.

Their peace was interrupted by the first - sudden - rumble of thunder. Natasha and Jeff reacted immediately; the Black Widow startled at the sound but reflexively pulled Jeff closer. Meanwhile, the land shark squeezed Blahaj tight and buried himself in Natasha’s lap.

“That was loud.”

“Mrrr.”

“Are you okay, Jeff?”

“Mrrr.” He shook his head, face still pressed firmly into the soft plushie. 

“The thunder is scary, I know-”

“Mrrr!”

“-but it can’t hurt you here. I’m with you. Why don’t we finish what you started? Turn all these pillows and blankets into the best fort we can make. How does that sound?”

“Mrrr.”

—————————————————

One month away from this warmth. One month away from your fiancee and your land shark. The need to find them filled your mind; there was nothing you wanted more, to finally be able to while the evening away, to do nothing but bask in their companionship. As suddenly as quiet settled in your surroundings, so too did the thoughts in your mind, trailing away until you felt at peace. The mission report could wait.

Flashes of the mission ran through your mind, of mess-ups, mistakes, twists and turns, of constantly battling to just get home. You hardly even noticed the pouring rain, too caught up in your thought; even on your way back, the weather revolted against you. A long sigh left you when the door clicked shut.

A cosy quiet came with it. Appliances and radiators hummed throughout the house, while the noises of the thunder and rain diminished the second the door shut. With the quiet, even your brain began to relax, focusing on the warmth and safety you had spent a long month missing.

One month away from this, away from your land shark. Away from your fiancée. Did they know you were returning? Natasha would be greeting you if she'd seen the mission success, but then again, data had been patchy on the field, and you weren't even sure it had been sent. 

And Jeff would be barrelling in to greet you if he'd heard the door shut.

It seemed, for once, you had the element of surprise upon your return. 

As quietly as you could manage, you shed your outer layer of clothes and hung them up to dry. Jeff would always be excited to see you, but you doubted Natasha’s enthusiasm if you traipsed dripping garments through the house.

Through the pattering rain, you made out the faint noises of the TV, soft voices that guided your search to the living room.

You’d missed home. Even a perfectly created mission left an absent feeling, a creeping loneliness you struggled to put your finger on. But it was this; missing the small captures of life: a scene too spontaneous to be planned and small enough to oft be overlooked. 

A dazzling fort of cushions and blankets adorned your sofa. You wouldn’t be surprised if Tony Stark himself had built it; it was a feat of engineering. However, the actual creators hadn’t strayed far. In the middle of it all lay your two loves; Natasha dozed with her arms loosely wrapped around Jeff. The pair of them held Blahaj tight against Jeff’s stomach. 

They still faced the TV, but from the look of the channel, sleep had taken hold of them far before you arrived. Orange chickens flooded the screen, seeming to be the focus of the program – Jeff’s worst nightmare. The land shark had been much more cautious around them since his encounter with Susan, the farm chicken who looked identical to those on TV. Jeff couldn’t have slept knowing his feathered foes were just a screen away.

You switched it off; just in time. Another wave of thunder rumbled, and you saw Natasha tremble in her sleep, her grip on Jeff and Blahaj tightening. Tight enough to wake the land shark.

Jeff awoke slowly; he sought comfort and warmth in Natasha’s arms while he blinked his way into full awareness. The moment he saw you was clear; his eyes and mouth widened, and his tail thumped up and down repeatedly. That is…until he remembered his situation. Very quickly, Jeff stilled, then moved a finger to his lips.

“You don’t want me to wake her?” you whispered, an estimated translation of his actions. It took a few more signs from Jeff for you to understand.

“Mother. Didn’t sleep. Tired. And scared.” 

"And you're not scared?" you signed back.

"Jeff brave."

"You’re the bravest, Jeff.” As you spoke, the thunder rumbled once again. Jeff’s fingers dug into his stuffed toy, with a slight whimper escaping that you pretended you didn’t notice. “Thank you for looking after Nat for me; you’ve done it so well.”

“Now… is there room for three in that fort? I think it’s time we napped.”

—————————————————

Jeff taglist: @unexpected-character​​ @wolferine​

[pluralsword]

Joy in Expansive Variation

https://www.tumblr.com/conarcoin/707384949821538304/nah-fuck-this-im-not-white-but-we-do-not-need-to?source=share

Yeah to add to what conarcoin says (had to do a separate post to make it clear we weren’t endorsing the video because the video is ridiculous), so we’re gonna pretend now that the overlap between ND and trans folks across racial categories during the ramp up of trans genocide in the USA means that white trans people with mental issues aren’t oppressed huh?

We’re sorry but like, the body we have is white but on account of gender and our brain we still went through hell and still get hell on occasion in a society structurally designed to wear us down either onto the streets or into an institution or dead etc. etc. Like, what? Did we not get sexually harassed several times and freeze up even though our oldest headmate before most of us were around knew martial arts because she had never really been prepared for the way things happened? Did we not get traumatized in school and experience ostracism and end up suicidal? Have we not experienced microagressions at work and threats in the public bathroom? Were we not categorically denied knowledge and actuation that would have made us happy when we were younger? What is this shit. Us talking about it and reclaiming it isn’t social currency- it is agency, it is trying to make a little joy in this often miserable world of hegemonies that we and so many struggle against. We will grant that there are white people who try to do oppression Olympics and who have a puritan punitive policing mentality about liberation which does a disservice to the very idea of liberation and solidarity, but celebrating parts of us that hegemonic masculinity (the international systems of the patriarchy and all the imperial and capitalist stuff that comes with it) wants us tokenised, bled dry from alienated labor, dead, shunned, or repeatedly abused for is not something that is not trying to claim something that isn’t ours.

So there you have our life- but brown and black people like us have it much worse than we do. We’re not going to get into that, they can do that if they want. If people really need to know about some of the messed up imperial shit, go read Black on Both Sides: A Racial History of Trans Identity by C. Riley Snorton, Deviant Care for Deviant Futures: QTBIPoC Radical Relationism as Mutual Aid Against Carceral Care by Ren Yo-Hwang, Anarcho-Blackness by Marquis Bey, Giuseppe Campuzano’s Afterlife: Toward a Travesti Methodology for Critique, Care, and Radical Resistance by Malú Machuca Rose, I Monster: Embodying Trans and Travesti Resistance in Latin America by Joseph M. Pierce and OVERCOMING HETERONORMATIVE HEGEMONY: QUEER RESISTANCE TO NEOLIBERALISM IN CHILE by SHYAM ANAND SINGH  to start to get a picture of it (this is not at all an exhaustive list nor could it ever be, also we are out of spoons after a generally awful day). Would also just generally recommend Are Prisons Obsolete? by Angela Davis.

So yeah, with all due respect, no. While we are more on the aesthetic read of gender (a discussion for another time) we think Gender as Accumulation Strategy by Kay Gabriel is very relevant in regards to how the fight for trans rights must be framed in a pluralistic form of solidarity.

And we haven’t even talked about plurality!?! Because we honestly don’t know what literature to recommend on plural BiPoC oppression or plural oppression generally. We have not gotten around to reading about it we can only speak to community knowledge and personal experiences and what we can infer from the ND community not getting treated very well by the medical system or by police and many other institutions e.g. with anxiety and ADD (things we have). We will at least say that if you want a non-western, spiritual look at a much older understanding of systems than the recent word plural that also tangles with aesthetic stuff, go read Freshwater by  Akwaeke Emezi.

[lovingperfectionsblog]

You never will

Carlos Sainz Jr x Reader

Summary: Carlos has to come to terms with the fact that you don’t always get what you want.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, drinking.

Words count: 2526

Authors note: Sorry guys, we’re here for some angsty writing, and a lot of the stories coming are going to be similar I think. I’ve also been struggling to be creative but I refuse to let myself fall into that hole so I know it isn’t the best but I’d rather create something bad than nothing at all. I hope you guys like it and sorry for the angsty angst 😊

You Never Will: Part 2

_____

“No, but you don’t understand!” A very drunk Carlos was getting tired of over explaining himself and the alcohol wasn’t helping in the least.

“Mate, sometimes that’s just life, we don’t always get what we want” Charles tried to comfort him, kind of disappointed that this is where the night ended up, but not entirely surprised.

“But I do, we always get what we want” and he couldn’t handle the fact that the one thing he wanted the most was the one thing he wasn’t getting.

Carlos had been enthusiastically talking about the woman he loved for months now, but as they dredged on, Carlos began to realise more and more the reality of you liking him back was next to nothing and that had suddenly become everyone else’s problem too.  

And Charles was sick of it. They all were, yourself included.

Albeit, you were the only one who didn’t know he was talking about you.

You and Carlos were best friends, meeting one evening as you by mistake had bumped into him and the other drivers one very early morning in the hotel hallways as you all came back from the post-race party. The boys all beyond excited having found out you actually worked for F1 and you mortified the next morning when flashbacks of belting out ABBA with them came back to you in your haze of a hangover.

Since then, you and Carlos had became inseparable.

And Carlos had become insufferable.

Which had lead you all to this exact situation, an impromptu party to try and cheer a very drunk and sad Carlos up.

“God, Carlos, like, this is life, sometimes the girl you like doesn’t like you back, you just get over it” Max was getting tired of repeating himself, this entire conversation was getting very old very quickly and all this lying right to your face was starting to annoy him too.

The fact that they all sat there talking about you like you weren’t there, just with secret codes names so you never caught on always felt a bit underhanded to him, to most of them truly, but they had to come up with something, especially since Carlos was becoming more and more vocal about the entire fiasco.

“She’s in love with someone else” Carlos suddenly blurted out.

Now this all made sense. The drivers had yet to see Carlos so plagued by the whole situation and now it made sense.

“How did you find out?” Lando was significantly gentler than all the other drivers had been, but he’d been in this situation before and knew the strange mixture of desperation and despair you felt all at once.

“I looked over at her phone and she there was a contact with hearts and was called crush or something” Carlos knew he was rambling and wasn’t even sure if he had made any sense but he didn’t care. His entire world was crumbling around him.

“Are we sure it’s a good idea that she comes over tonight?” Charles was the first to suggest, wary of how this could all shake down with a very drunk Carlos mixed with your ever thinning patience over the entire matter.

“She has to come over! I haven’t seen her in a week!” Carlos knew it might not be the best idea but truly he couldn’t be away from you for much longer, you becoming an integral part of his life and going a week without seeing each other was almost unheard of for the two of you.

“Mate, I really don’t think it’s a good idea” Charles knew it was a lost cause arguing over this, but Carlos wasn’t the only one involved here, you were too, and with how protective Max was over you already considering all the lying, he didn’t want to deal with any potential backlash.

“Carlos, you’re drunk, this isn’t a good idea” Max became insistent, almost reading Charles mind, anticipating the worst.

“No! This is unfair. This is all unfair” Carlos knew he sounded like a child, but he didn’t care, he was drunk and sad and he just wanted to throw his temper tantrum.

“She’s already on the way with food, should be here any minute really” Lando opted to ignore his friend as he threw his own pity party, knowing Carlos wasn’t himself right now and directing the comment to the other two drivers instead.

“We could always get him a little drunker and make him pass out so he doesn’t say or do anything stupid?” Max knew it wasn’t the best plan, it wasn’t even a good plan but it was a plan.

“We can’t give our friend alcohol poisoning because we don’t want him to do something dumb?” Charles couldn’t admit that he didn’t hate the plan, but he knew he had to do the right thing.

“Why not?” Silence proceeded Max’s question, Lando and Charles both racking their brain for a good enough answer but coming up blank.

“Because I said so” is all Charles instructed, quickly noticing that Carlos was no longer in the room, “Jesus this is getting really tiresome” he dropped his head in his hands, exhausted with all the emotional energy he was using for this one situation.

“Is he ever going to get over her” Even Lando, who normally had an infinite amount of energy to help his friends was slowly running out of steam over this situation.

“Someone is going to have to give him some tough love eventually we know that right?” Max was willing but he also knew he could be a bit harsh when it came to matters of the heart so decided to leave this particular conversation up to Lando and Charles instead.

“He’s just had his heart shattered man, let’s cut him some slack” Lando really didn’t want ‘to hurt his friend anymore than he already was, but knew they were eventually going to have to push for him to move on and he was scared that was going to include shattering any hope Carlos might have, “Does anyone know who y/n likes anyway?”

“Honestly, I thought she liked him just as much as he liked her” Charles was surprised, he really did think that you are Carlos already had something going so the news that you were apparently in love with someone else was shocking information. He understands why Carlos was so hurt.

“Yeah, but we don’t always get what we want man” Max was sounding slightly more adamant about this entire, pushing more and more for Charles to just let it go.

A silence settled between the three drivers, the weight of their friend’s heartache settling over the room.

“Max” Lando was suddenly eyeing hi suspiciously, Charles quickly catching on.

“Oh my God Max, no” Charles was praying that it wasn’t what both Lando and him had suddenly caught on to.

“What?” Max voiced his confusion at the sudden serious tone thrown his way, “Oh! No no! no, there is nothing happening between me and Y/n” he began defending himself.

“Then what do you know” Lando knew Max knew more than he was letting on and was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Silence.

Max debated whether or not to share the very minimal information he did happen to have, knowing that you’d kill him if he told, but also knowing neither Charles nor Lando would let it go until he told them.

“I honestly don’t know much, like, 2% of the situation” Max opted to give the bare minimum, hoping they would drop it afterwards.

“Well then share the 2% of knowledge you do have” He knew they wouldn’t drop it.

“Look, okay, all I know is there is someone she’s super interested in and it’s kind of driving her insane because he is in love with someone else and she’s just been trying to get over him and just she doesn’t need Carlos giving her grief while she’s trying to do that” Max rambled through all the information he did know.

“Whose the guy Max” Charles insisted on knowing, wanting to figure out who had managed to swoop in and get you while he watched his teammate pine over you day in and day out.

“That I honestly don’t know, she refused to tell me” He was met with sceptical looks, but a silence as they other two had accepted that he was telling the truth.

“Well, I was really hoping Carlos was wrong” Lando knew that when it came to you, Carlos could be a little dramatic.

“Yeah, this fucking sucks for him” Charles was met with hums of agreement.

_____

“Isn’t this little get together for you?” You giggled as you snuck into the kitchen before any of the boys heard you, finding Carlos sitting on the kitchen counter nursing a drink, “what you doing moping about in here?”

“She loves someone else” He couldn’t even look you in the eye, his drunk self probably too in charge of the situation.

“Oh, Sugs, I am so sorry” you immediately moved over to him, surprised when he stopped you from hugging him.

“Not like you actually care” Carlos knew it was wrong, at least the sober part of him did, but the drunk side, well, he needed to have this out with you.

“Excuse me what?” you hadn’t seen this side of Carlos before and you were at a loss for why you were on the receiving end of his foul mood.

“You heard me, it’s not like you actually care,” Carlos spat out at you, “not about my situation, not about my heart, not about me”.

He knew he was getting louder and knew the rest of the boys were bound to come and find out what was happening so if this was his only opportunity he needed to do it fast.

“Oh my god, please don’t pretend like I haven’t been here for you the entire time with this bullshit issue Carlos, she doesn’t feel the same, I am sorry and it sucks, but its life, sometimes we just don’t get what we want” You shouted back at him, beyond hurt that you were on the receiving end of this treatment.

“Hey, what’s happening?” you felt Max tugging you back, choosing to shrug him off and ignore the other three drivers that had now entered the room.

“No Y/n! That’s the thing! I do get what I want! And I cannot handle the fact that the one thing I want most in the world I can’t have!” Carlos was now standing, both of you ready to have this fight, be damned that it was in front of all your friends, “and plus, what do you know about not getting what you want, the princess gets everything doesn’t she” Carlos felt gross saying it, he knew it was a low blow, but he couldn’t help the anger he was feeling.

“I don’t know what it’s like to not get what I want? You are so fucking self-centred Carlos! Believe it or not but you’re not the only one with your own shit going on! Guess what! I’m in love with someone too and guess what, he doesn’t fucking love me either, so I understand, better than anyone but I’ve at least come to terms with the fact that I don’t always get what I want bud! It just is what it is, you accept it and move on because what other fucking option do you have when your best friend is pining over some girl who clearly doesn’t fucking deserve him, and you know you are madly in love with him and don’t want to lose him! You support him and move the fuck on!” You weren’t sure how this had divulged into you confessing everything to him, but it had, and now it existed and you were suddenly feeling claustrophobic and you just needed to get out of there.

Before any of them could utter a word, you began to gather your things, not wanting to be involved in the argument anymore, none of the other drivers stopping you, truthfully, despite you suddenly running away from the admission, none of them had even registered it. Carlos especially.

“Yeah, run, like you do, like you always do, at least I’m willing to fight for what I want” Carlos was going to be sick at how he was treating you, the alcohol not helping, but he couldn’t get himself to be kind.

How was he unable to get himself to be kind to the woman he loves?

Instead, he stood, motionless, watching you leave. They all did.

“Fuck you” and with that you were gone, leaving the boys in thick silence, Carlos’s heavy breathes the only other noise to break through it.

None of them knew what to say and Max had to fight himself not to run after you to make sure you were okay.

“Carlos” Charles began, not sure where to start really, whether to comfort or admonish him for what just happened.

“Please, just don’t, I know” he wasn’t drunk enough to realise how badly he fucked up. He thought it would make him feel better, instead he just felt like he was disgusting, like he needed to take a shower to get off whatever residue was left after possibly the shortest and worst argument he had ever had.

“I know this is a really bad time, but can we just go back to what she said for a second?” Lando couldn’t shake what you had shouted at Carlos.

“And what did she say?” Max truly hadn’t even been listening, only waiting to see if he needed to get involved.

“She said she was madly in love with her best friend and supports him while he’s in love withs someone else and she’s just got to get over it” Lando tried to remember word for word but paraphrased as best he could with the small amounts he did remember.

Slowly but surely, it dawned on them all at once, Carlos most of all, eyes wide darting between his three friends.

“You fucked up” Charles was the first to speak, directed towards Carlos the irrefutable truth of the matter.

“How do I fix this?” Carlos was suddenly frantic, desperately needing to know how to salvage even just a friendship between you two.

“Mate, after how you treated her – “ Max began, unable to say the words he thought he’d so easily be able to, but looking at Carlos now, he wasn’t able to break that hope.

The silence was heavy.

“I could have had her, I could have had everything, and I fucked it all up” He knew it, he knew he had ruined everything and there was no one else to blame but himself.

Charles wishes he knew the right words to say, he wanted to keep his friends hope up, but he had never seen you so hurt and the reality was you weren’t going to want any of them in your life after what he just had to witness, let alone Carlos, and so he settled for the truth.

“And now you never will”.

[fxntxsix]

Throwing Punches (Reader x Boxer!Austin Butler)

Hi guys! This is my first ever fanfic and I’m not going to lie I’m shit scared about posting it but I want to thank @adoresbutlers for helping me out with this (i love you very much thank you). Feedback is appreciated but please be gentle lmao. Other than that let me know if I’ve made any grammatical errors or any of that.

Warnings: ANGST!!! Domestic violence, swearing, lowkey toxic relationship, mentions of blood (I think that’s it please let me know if I missed any!)

Word Count: 1128

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Okay yes you knew he had a boxing match coming up this weekend, but he had promised to be home by 6 tonight so you guys could go out for a much overdue date night. But no. It was now 9:30 and there’s no sign of your boyfriend, Austin. You felt like a fool sitting all dolled up in the living room staring at the front door, waiting for it to open. You were seething with rage at this point. The punching bag hanging in the corner of the room did not help your mood. Rather, it served as a reminder of what your boyfriend was doing instead of being with you. 

Eventually you heard the familiar jingling of the keys. The door opened and you raised your head to see Austin enter the shared apartment wearing sweatpants and a hoodie with his gym bag in one hand and the keys in the other. He walked over to where you were sitting on the sofa taking in your appearance.

“Hey baby,” he leaned over to give you a quick peck on the cheek and you turned your head away from him. 

“What’s the matter? Why are you all dressed u- oh fuck,” he curses as realization of the forgotten date night finally dawns on him. You get up and quickly try to make your way to your room so you can slam the door in his face. But before you can walk past him he drops his bag and pulls you back by the elbows.

“I’m so so sorry baby. I forgot about date night. It’s just that the match is coming up and coach-”

“Cut the shit, Austin. I don’t want to hear it.” You roughly release yourself from his grip and turn around to walk away again, not wanting to see his face.

This time he pulls you by the waist and hugs you so that your back is against is chest and his mouth is against your ear as he mutters, “I know baby I’m the worst,” then his voice drops lower and he uses a tone you know all too well, “Let me make it up to you.”

Usually, this is your kryptonite and you forget whatever it is you are upset about but tonight was different. You struggle against him for a second but somehow manage to turn around and roughly push him away from you towards the corner of your quaint apartment. He was now standing closer to the punching bag than he was to you. 

“Goddamn it, Austin, you can’t just fuck your way out of everything. I’ve been waiting here for 4 hours for you and you forgot? Do you even care about this relationship anymore? About us? Fuck, lately I’ve been questioning whether you even love me anymore. We haven’t had a fucking meal together in weeks because of your stupid boxing obsession and you know what I’m done. I am done!”

As you spoke, Austin could feel the anger rising in him. He thought he had been patient with you so far and had even apologised to you. What more did you want?

“What the hell is the matter with you, Y/N? Do I love you? Do I care about you? Everything I fucking do is for you. It’s my ‘stupid boxing obsession’ that puts food on the table, that keeps a roof over our heads, that pays for that slutty fucking dress you’re wearing.” He scoffs and puts his hands on his hips, “No, I don’t expect you to understand of course. You’re the most unsupportive, selfish girlfriend anyone could ever have.”

You had never felt hurt and anger like you did in this moment. The emotions were so strong that your entire body was trembling. Without a second thought you walked up to him and slapped him across the face, “Fuck you, Austin.”

He stood still for a second with his head turned to the left because of the force of the slap. Suddenly, he made a sound, like a growl, and in an instant his hand shot up and gripped your hair painfully, tilting your head up to look him in the eyes. His blue eyes had turned almost black in anger and his jaw was clenched so tight that you thought you heard a tooth crack. Then, as quickly as his hand had come up, he released the tight grip, turned around and hit the punching bag behind him so hard that it flew off its hook on the ceiling and slammed against the opposite wall.

Austin let out a little grunt from his throat, “Hmph!”

Your hands flew up to your mouth as you gasped in shock. In a flash, you were at his side and took his hand in both of yours. For the first time that night, your eyes filled with tears when you saw his split and bloodied knuckles because of throwing a punch without any protection. Because he didn’t want to hurt you. And you had hurt him. The words spilled out of your mouth when you realised the gravity of what you had done.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I love you so much. Please forgive me. I love you. More than life itself. I’m so fucking sorry,” your voice kept trembling and the tears fell down your face. You continuously kissed his knuckles, not caring about the blood.

Eventually, you pulled him to the bathroom and sat him on the edge of the bathtub. With shaky hands you brought the first aid kit, kneeling on the floor in front of him and cleaning up the wound.

Overwhelmed with guilt, you say, “I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Aus. I shouldn’t have hit you and I shouldn’t have said all those things. I hope you can forgive me. You’re right, I am selfish and unsupportive. I’m so sorry, baby.” Fresh tears flow down your cheeks.

Finally, Austin puts his uninjured hand under your chin and gently pulls your gaze up to his face, “Hey, hey, hey it’s okay. I was wrong. You are the best girl I could ask for. You’re like an angel sent from the heavens just for me. I don’t know where I would be without you. I’m sorry too. I can’t believe I forgot about tonight, I never meant to hurt you.”

Wiping your tears away, he leaned down and kissed you. You smiled into the kiss. He pulled you up so you were sitting in his lap.

“How about tomorrow we go to that diner you love and have a breakfast date? Waffles and a cold coffee?”

You nodded enthusiastically and nuzzled your nose in his neck while your thumb gently stroked the gauze you had tied around his knuckles.

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@adoresbutlers​ @butler-on-beale-street​ @vividstilinski @she-is-juniper @eu-whoria @austinbutlerr @sassy-ahsoka-tano @mamaspresley @enchantinglyjade @stargiirl27 @emmymaehereeeeee @neverasfarawayasitmayseemxo

[sluttywonwoo]

pretend || j.ww x reader

Summary: reading thirst tweets with your co-star/boyfriend’s best friend makes things a little tense

Warnings: swearing, smut mentions (18+)

Word Count: 1.8k

a/n:  originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

The sound of Mingyu cracking his knuckles next to you sent a shiver down your spine, making you cringe instinctively. You turned to glare at him and leaned away from the noise.

“I hate when you do that!” you groaned.

He smirked. “I know, that’s why I like doing it.”

You looked over at Wonwoo, who was sitting across the room with the crew, and pointed to Gyu. 

“Can you tell your best friend to stop being annoying?”

“Can you tell your girlfriend to stop being dramatic?” Mingyu retaliated.

“I’m not picking sides!” Wonwoo shouted back and held up his hands in surrender.

You let your jaw drop. “I’ll remember that, Jeon.”

“Baby, I-” Wonwoo started to defend himself, but fell silent when the producer got up from her chair and approached you and Mingyu who were sitting behind the camera. 

“Which one of you wants to take this?” she asked, holding up a large insulated jug full of paper strips. 

“I’ll take it,” Mingyu offered and set the cup in his lap. 

“What a gentleman,” you said, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. 

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” he muttered, “because you’re so fucking annoying.”

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

The producer gave you both a sideways look. “Are you guys alright? Should we take a minute before starting?”

“No, we’re fine,” you assured her.

“We don’t actually hate each other,” Mingyu added, “this is just how... we are.”

She didn’t look any less concerned, but nodded anyway. “Okay, well remember what your director said about playing up your chemistry to promote the show. And when we call action just give a quick slate and start reading the tweets.”

She walked back over to her spot next to the cameraman and took a seat before looking over a checklist that had been handed to her and writing some notes on it.

“Nervous?” Mingyu whispered to you as you both waited for your cue.

“A little,” you admitted. “You?”

“I’m a bit on edge,” he concurred. “Mostly because your boyfriend is about to watch me read filthy comments about you on-camera.”

You glanced over at Wonwoo who gave you an encouraging smile and a thumbs-up. “He’ll be fine. How bad can they be?”

From a distance, the producer you had just spoken to called for everyone to be quiet on set and signaled the cameras to start rolling. You perked up and straightened your dress, waiting for Mingyu to take the lead. 

“Hi guys, I’m Kim Mingyu.”

“And I’m y/n y/l/n.”

“You might recognize us from our new Netflix series, Breaking Curfew, where we play opposite each other in what you might call a... complicated romantic relationship.”

“We’re enemies with benefits,” you summarized. “And today we’re here with Buzzfeed to read thirst tweets about each other.”

“Ladies first,” Mingyu said and held the cup out to you.

You closed your eyes and sifted through the strips of paper with one hand, selecting one at random. 

“Okay, this one’s about you. ‘Kim Mingyu has the prettiest eyes’.” You grinned as you watched your co-star’s cheeks turn pink. “He’s totally blushing right now! We haven’t even gotten to the good stuff!”

“Thank you very much to whoever tweeted that,” Mingyu said and cleared his throat. 

“I agree with this person,” you continued, “you do have really pretty eyes.”

“Aw, thank you, y/n.”

“You’re welcome.”

“My turn.” Mingyu closed his eyes and rummaged around the cup before picking one. “‘Someone tell y/n y/l/n that I’m single and I get a discount at Olive Garden if she ever wants to let me take her out on a date’.”

You chuckled. “I do like Olive Garden.”

“She’ll get back to you on that one, mate,” Mingyu said quickly and let the crumpled piece of paper fall to the floor. 

You took that as a sign to move on so you reached into the jug and pulled out another tweet.

“Oh, this one’s about me again. ‘Y/n y/l/n scissor me challenge’.” You clapped a hand over your mouth in shock and thrust the slip of paper towards Mingyu.

“You know what, props for being so bold. What do you think, y/n? Are you going to take them up on the offer?”

“I’ll think about it,” you managed to choke out, sending Mingyu into a laughing fit. You fanned yourself with your hand as you tried to recover and motioned for your co-star to read another one. “Your turn.”

“‘Kim Mingyu and y/n y/l/n are my dream celebrity threesome,’” he read. “What a compliment, don’t you think?”

“Oh, for sure,” you agreed and winked as you held your hand to your ear in a call me motion. 

“These are just getting more and more vulgar, aren’t they?” Mingyu asked. 

“I don’t know that anything can beat the scissoring one,” you pointed out as you fished another tweet from the bucket. “Another one about Mingyu, okay. ‘I wanna suck Kim Mingyu’s soul through his dick then spit it back in his face’.” You blinked at the piece of paper in front of you in shock, scanning back over it to make sure you had read it right the first time. “Jesus... christ.”

Mingyu smirked and nudged your shoulder with his. 

You ignored him and pointed a finger at the camera in disgust. “I cannot believe you made me read this with my own two eyes. I could have lived my entire life without seeing those words in a sentence together!”

“I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever received,” Mingyu countered, running a thumb along his jawline cockily. 

“No, I have beef with whoever tweeted that now.”

“You’re just jealous that I like this tweet better than the threesome one.”

You sighed. “This interview was a bad idea. Your head is already so god damn big.”

Mingyu opened his mouth to retaliate, but paused like he had thought better of it and took a deep breath to compose himself. 

“Anyway, moving on.”

You watched as he sifted through the tweets and chose one from the bottom, reading it to himself and grinning slightly before reading it aloud. 

“‘Petition for y/n y/l/n to start an OnlyFans because I just know her tits are incredible. I can feel it in my bones’.”

You brought your hands up to your boobs self-consciously and laughed. “I don’t know about that, but thank you.”

“I’ve seen them,” Mingyu added nonchalantly, “and I can confirm that twitter user ‘geminisuns’ is correct.”

“Mingyu!” 

“What? Do you know how many sex scenes we had to shoot? We’ve seen each other naked plenty of times.”

You looked back over to the crew and made eye contact with the producer. “Do you see what I have to deal with?”

“Maybe we should take a quick break,” she suggested and motioned for the cameras to stop rolling. “Get a drink, freshen up and be back here in five.”

“Do you think they’re going to use that part?” Mingyu asked as he followed you over to the water cooler. 

“I don’t know, dude,” you sighed in annoyance, “but great fucking job. The whole world already thinks we’re boning.”

“I don’t know about the whole world.” You glared at him. “Wonwoo knows we’re not.”

Wonwoo. You had nearly forgotten that your boyfriend was there on set with you. You looked around for him, and saw him still sitting in his designated guest chair looking at his phone. You could only imagine what he must be thinking of all of this. You should probably say something to him. 

You told Mingyu that you’d be back and made your way across the room to Wonwoo. Even from a distance you could tell that he was upset. 

His knuckles were pale and his jaw was tight. He didn’t look up at you when you approached him. 

“Sorry this is taking longer than expected,” you said, brushing a stray curl out of his eyes. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured in response, still not looking at you. 

You sighed and draped yourself across him, slinging your arms loosely across his shoulders as you leaned down to see what he was doing on his phone. He was scrolling aimlessly on Instagram, not even liking any of the posts. 

“If you’re bored you can leave,” you said curtly and stood back up. 

“I’m not bored.”

“You’re not even paying attention to the shoot.”

“Trust me, it’s impossible not to. I’ve been trying to tune it out for the past ten minutes with no luck.”

“Why would you not want to pay attention?” you demanded even though the answer was sitting right in front of you. “This is a big deal for me.”

Wonwoo swallowed and finally looked up at you. “I know, baby. It’s just- do you know how hard it is to listen to my best friend talk about doing all of these dirty things to you-”

“He’s my best friend too,” you pointed out in a quiet hiss. “The only reason we’re together is because of him.”

Sometimes you felt the need to remind Wonwoo that you had known Mingyu longer than you had known him. If Gyu hadn’t brought him to set all those times back when you were filming in the fall, you wouldn’t even know about each other’s existence. 

“I know that.”

“You’ve done interviews like this before,” you argued. 

“I know,” he repeated.

“Then why are you being like this?” He didn’t answer, so you kept going. “You know my bare ass has been on tv, right-”

“Don’t,” Wonwoo warned and grabbed your wrist.

You gasped and flexed your fingers gingerly in his grasp, challenging him. “Don’t what?” 

“Y/n,”

“Don’t... act like I want to fuck your best friend?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “You’re enjoying this.” It wasn’t a question.

“Don’t pretend like I’d rather fulfill those tweets with him instead of you? Give the people what they want?”

You had to bite your tongue before you went any further and said something you might regret. Your words had already had the desired effect. You didn’t even have to look at Wonwoo’s lap to know that he was struggling not to get hard. 

You could see it in his eyes. The arousal that had turned the warm brown into black. The way he was looking at you told you everything you needed to know. You wondered if you would even make it back home before he’d break, if he would pull the car over on the side of the road and take you then and there. 

Your knees were weak at the mere thought of what you were in for later that night. Making Wonwoo jealous was admittedly one of your favorite pastimes, purely for selfish reasons. Possessive sex was arguably the best sex. The teasing, the hair-pulling, the choking, the face-fucking, all hit different when Wonwoo was reminding you who you belonged to. 

Wonwoo released your wrist from his grip and raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Are you finished?”

You shook your head and grinned. “Just getting started.”

lmk what you thought; i always appreciate feedback!!

wonwoo tags: @wonw00t

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[thepowerofhyperfixation]

I Gave You All (Pt. 1)

Characters: Peter Parker x You

Summary: You weren’t supposed to remember him. And you didn’t. For three years. But you always remembered… something. Little things, every now and again. Now, you have a new neighbor, that honestly..? Doesn’t seem all that new to you.

(Post NWH, could technically be read for any Peters if your head-canon is that 2 & 3 were wiped from their universes memory too, but it is being written for adult Tom Holland Peter Parker)

Word Count: 956

Warnings: Like, one cuss word and mentions of alcohol/drunkenness

Author Note: Hi everyone! I’m a long-time reader, but haven’t ever posted my own content. This hasn’t been read by anyone other than myself, so the only editing that’s been done has been by Grammarly. Sorry for any mistakes, and sorry if it’s trash. Just thought it would be fun to give writing another shot after 10 years out of the fandom writing sphere. Hope you enjoy it, understand if you don’t! :) -Meg

You think you met him freshman year. In all honesty, you don’t think the two of you paid much attention to one another. As far as you knew? No one paid much attention to him… He disappeared halfway through the school year. 

No, he didn’t.

Yes. He disappeared. You don’t even remember his name. Just… a blur. A dark silhouette in a flurry of otherwise clear memories. Some days, the silhouette became more focused, and along with it came a tightening in your chest. A brick in your stomach, a heat spreading across your cheeks. As soon as it came, it disappeared again. Like him. The nameless, faceless figure in the back of your head that no one else seemed to think ever even existed. 

He existed.

It had been years since you had seen him in freshman biology. You were well out of high school now, living your life as a young adult. You had no reason to even think of him, yet here you were. Alone on your couch, vision swirling, the 24-hour news cycle spinning violently across your television. Spider-Man and Daredevil saved a bus full of middle schoolers on the George Washington Bridge this afternoon, from what you’re hoping isn’t actually an 8-foot-tall lizard. 

Spider-Man.

The brick in your stomach grows as you stare at the rippling image of the masked vigilante. You blame it on the empty bottle of New Amsterdam sitting on the table in front of you, but your mind continues to wander to the student that you remember forgetting. Tonight, he isn’t just a silhouette. You see curly brown hair. This time though, a new image flashes across your eyelids. Chocolate brown eyes, smile lines obvious on an otherwise smooth face. You’ve never remembered that before. Three knocks. One, two, three, in quick succession.

This breaks you from your reverie. You slowly stand, making sure your drunken state won’t be too obvious to whoever decided to knock on your door at the ungodly hour of… 

7:36pm

Shit.

You shuffle to the door and struggle with the locks before pulling it open, covertly using it as a crutch to keep yourself upright. You look up at the mystery knocker, and all at once, every ounce of oxygen in your body abandons you. Curly brown hair. Chocolate brown eyes. Smile lines on an otherwise smooth face…. It’s just a coincidence. Right? “Hey, so sorry to bother you, but I’m moving in next door and managed to-” The stranger stops for only a moment when he lays eyes on you, but recovers quickly. Too quickly for you to notice his own shock. “-to dump a gallon of water on my kitchen floor before buying a mop… Any chance I could borrow yours?” You stare at the man, who is donned in an oversized “I Survived My Trip to NYC” Tee and sweatpants. You don’t realize that you’re silent for longer than any normal neighbor would be before shaking out of your own state. “Oh- uh- right. Yeah, ‘fcourse. Come on in…” You step out of his way and immediately turn toward your own kitchen, trying with every ounce of your being to not drunkenly stumble and embarrass yourself in front of your handsome (familiar?) new neighbor. 

“I’m Peter, by the way. Peter Parker.” He states as you awkwardly search the crack between your fridge and wall for your mop. Your hand finds the cool metal and pulls it from the abyss, and you glance over your shoulder at him.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you, Peter Parker.” You then bury yourself under the sink, wrestling a bucket and a bottle of cleaner from under the poorly placed pipes. 

“So... how’d you manage to dump a gallon of water on your floor?” Your voice is muffled by the cabinetry.

“Oh, you know… Had a bit of an incident with a fallen bar of soap. Classic cartoon slip and fall. Only I was lucky, and was carrying groceries to the fridge when it happened.” Your snort rings out through the small kitchen and you turn bright pink as you stand.

“Sounds like an unfortunate series of events.”

“I prefer to call it a comedy of errors.”

“Is it a comedy, or a tragedy? That is, considering no one else was there to see it.” You give him a small, sly smile as you pass him the mop and bucket. He gives you a cheeky grin in return, and you’re nearly knocked off your feet. 

Identical.

You’ve seen that grin before. More times than you can count. But you don’t know where. Or when. Or why… It seems as though the smile belonged to a lover from a different lifetime. A smile that transcended universes and demons and death, only to find your eyes once more. You feel the color drain from your face, but your brain can’t force your eyes to look away. Peter notices. The grin falters, and so does your absent stare.

“I should, uh… I should get that water taken care of. Make sure it doesn’t cause any damage. I don’t want to lose my deposit on day one.” He gives a weak chuckle, but you can feel how hollow it is. You nod in agreement, and walk him to the front door, growing dizzy from the mere two-minute interaction. “I’ll get your mop back to you soon.” You nod, absolutely incapable of caring less about a mop.

“No rush. Hope to see you around, Peter Parker.” Your voice is hoarse and more confused than it ever should have been. “You too, Y/N Y/L/N.” And Peter Parker has disappeared into the next apartment before you can even process that you never told him your last name.

[himboskywalker]

Hey you don’t have to answer this, and I feel weird coming on anon, but that post you wrote about finding out you have adhd meant a lot to me. I’ve got crippling executive dysfunction, but I haven’t had the resources to talk to someone and figure out what the exact diagnosis is. I know in my head that there are other people with the same problem, but seeing you describe it like that, as mourning for your past self and your past dreams and who you thought you’d be…I don’t think I even realized that I’ve been grieving my own identity for nearly a decade. It hit me like a punch to the gut. I just wanted to thank you. I’m sorry you’ve had such hard times, but I’ve spent so long feeling like everyone in the world knows a secret that I was never told, and it is a relief to know I’m not alone. I hope things get better for you, and that you’re happy and fulfilled, but I had to thank you. Maybe it’s silly, but that post meant so, so much to me. Thank you.

I’m sorry you understand so well what I talked about,because most of the time I don’t have the words or capacity to describe how painful it is to silently grieve yourself. And it’s especially hard to have loved ones not understand,and who may try to be supportive and tell you they love you and they’re proud of you no matter what. But it’s who you thought you were and who you thought you were going to be that you mourn,and it’s so very hard to do. Because people’s answer is to say,well if you’re grieving what you would have done so much then why don’t you you do it now? But it’s complicated and you know you can’t,or don’t have the mental or spiritual capacity to put yourself through it.

And sometimes you’re at peace that you’ve changed and acknowledged that you can’t or won’t do those things or be that person. And sometimes it’s so visceral it’s like grieving someone’s actual death, at least for me. And so much of my identity was built on what I was going to do with my life and the labels I was proud to bear that some days I’m ashamed of letting it go and acknowledging that I don’t have the capacity to be that anymore. It makes me feel weak and like I’m surrendering and giving it up,and other days it’s such as immense relief I don’t know how I did it in the first place.

And I hope that Knowing you’re far from alone helps in even the smallest of ways,because it sure has for me. I grew up in a way that Didn’t allow me to talk about how I really felt,and I certainly wasn’t taught the skills to express my needs and pain and struggles. But the last two years finding other people who’ve literally lived through the same thing has helped in more ways than I can ever express.

And I’m literally just starting on this path lol I’ve not been officially diagnosed yet,I am on a waiting list for an appointment with a professional. I’ve been diagnosed through testing online and have been verbally told that I am by so so many people,but I’d like that last bit of validation and help for coping mechanisms with my own dysfunctions and bad coping skills. But I wish you all the luck and love in the world on your own journey. I wish I could give you a big ol hug because this shit is so hard it’s downright stupid.