#sorry but those opening lines RUIN the song for me

[notjustabadguy]

My hottest Ghost take that isn't Carl-related is that "With You" is one of the weakest songs in the musical

[satoruhour]

LESSON NO. 1

a/n: bassist!geto teaching you how to play the guitar. loosely based off this but not really connected. as requested by @alcospray 💟 i dont play bass so i just watched a whole bunch of videos for just one song - any bass players wanna correct me feel free to do so ;"). only if u look like geto tho /j. they havent say the three words to each other yet, read it with that in mind :3

wc: 2.1k

“any update from your fan?” gojo nudges him playfully as they wait for the principle of the university to introduce their band for the freshmen orientation, which, weirdly, something that the four of them never thought would happen. they sang about topics that wouldn’t normally get talked about or were shunned — politics, capitalism, authoritarianism — and yet being introduced by the principle of their place of education was quite ironic.

the bassist doesn’t hear gojo at all, not even when his best friend tries to tease him by calling you his fan. there were too many things in geto’s mind way even before this whole performance: his finals, a rival band that sought out to create false rumours about them, you.

always, you, the unexpected distracting thing that infiltrates his mind without fail. from the first night you trodded over to his dorms, opening up to him and letting him take care of you, to the many dates after. he’s taken you to cafés, watched you study way too many times, or simply let you sit through one of his song formation days.

a conscious effort to keep his distance and everything is just you, you, you, and geto is terrified. he’s never liked the kind of love with strings attached, with those mushy, complicated feelings, but no one-night stand, no quick fuck has ever made him feel the way you do.

but lately, he’s seen less of you, unwillingly accepting the principle’s offer to perform for the freshmen because he knew you were one of the group leaders ushering in the new students. at least he could try to search for you in the crowds, even getting a cheeky little text about where your group was meant to sit a week ago. he could be granted at least that when you both have been working so hard for final exams that you two could hardly see each other.

although, throughout their whole set, he sees everyone but you. he loses the bass line often, looks lost on the stage, needs to be cued in, something that never happens to the geto suguru. he’s always been a natural, and yet when it comes to you, you ruin him in the best way possible.

“hey— hey! man, what was that?” gojo slaps him on the back but it doesn’t even register in geto’s head, not really bothered by how he messed up the performance if it wasn’t for gojo’s vocals and shoko adding in her own improvisations for her parts. nanami can only shrug as he comes around to geto’s front.

“she wasn’t there, i looked, too,” nanami mumbled, tapping his drumsticks on his shoulder, “but you’re the most passionate guy i know who loves his guitars and bass lines.”

gojo has to chime in, “he’s the only bass guitarist you know, nanamiii!” and shoko pulls him back with a smack to the back of his head.

the dark-haired guy only clicks his tongue, “sorry ’bout him.”

nanami waves his drumsticks before pointing them at his face, “i know you’re obsessed with her, but i don’t wanna be a drummer if i can’t work with my bassist. sort this out before our next gig. she’s a sweet girl . . just, not when it’s at the expense of the band.”

geto only sighs in relief, landing a hand on his drummer’s shoulder.

“thank you, nanami.” the two exchange smiles before he gives a salute to his other two friends (“do you think he finally loves someone enough for him to be distracted on stage?” shoko says, and gojo gasps dramatically), heading out from the wings and down the stairs at the front of the stage where people look confused at the recent performer looking high and low for where your group was meant to be seated.

he sees not you, but rather your group leader mates who he’s at least seen pictures of, so he has no qualms about heading over to ask about your whereabouts — “the last thing she told our head group leader was that she was down with a nasty flu . . terrible fever and all. our main group leader went to her dorms to check on her and she’s unfit for doing orientations activities. we just sent her loads of soup packets and pei pa koa’s.”

geto laughs at the last part, knowing your need for sweet things. when it’s combined with a soothing coating for your throat, it’s pretty much the only thing you take when you’re sick. with a quick thanks, geto races for the campus bus straight to your dorm, the bass carried on his back rattling with his capo, chord sheets and mute nosily.

at least your annoying roommate’s gone home before school starts so it’s only you when geto knocks on the door. his knuckles rap against the wood, heart breaking when he hears your hoarse voice answer from the other side. soon, he can hear your feet moving towards the door, but it takes a while from how your body is, knocking over some things in the process.

“c-coming!” you groan out, wrapped in layers of clothing and feeling so hot you feel like you were in hell. but you aren’t expecting the sight when you open the door: your boyfriend panting, the guitar case behind him only telling you he’s come straight from the freshmen gig, the expression on his face.

“s-su!” you exclaim, both excitedly and a little worried because you didn’t want to get him sick, something you regret immediately when you go to clutch your throat.

“oh, baby,” geto brushes the hoodie off your head and brushes away the mess of your hair, “you look so pale, i— i would’ve come sooner if i knew—!”

“that’s why i didn’t tell you,” you pout, pushing away his hand gently and stepping back. it hurts to speak, but you feel like you at least need to explain your absence to him, “i was afraid you’d ditch the performance. also— don’t want you to get sick.”

suguru’s expression softens, “don’t worry about me, doll. come,” he takes one more step towards you and you feel so safe with him you don’t take a step away, “let me take care of you.”

the next hours are full of geto, a revered bassist in an upcoming band who dons long hair, piercings and has a menacing dragon down his arm alongside some boots, taking care of you. he runs back and forth between the pantry to make sure you have enough hot water, boiling hot soup to drink, enough layers to keep you warm and even calling gojo to get some tylenol from the supermarket.

“take a breather, sugu, i’m not gonna die,” you laugh slightly with a rasp to your voice, squeezing his hand as you rest against his shoulder. he’s made sure you at least have something in your stomach and enough hot water to power a hot spring, worry showing through his heartbeat when the hand he holds is still so warm.

“you’re heating up loads, baby,” geto frowns, turning his head to plant a kiss on the top of your head. he rolls his eyes when he hears it’s because you’re here. “do you want me to put cool towels on your head?”

you giggle again and cough, sniffling the mucus back up your nose, “no, it’s okay — you’d have to go to the pantry again to get water and i just want . . you here.”

suguru only hums, something akin to a melody that you don’t quite know but you’re happy to listen to his gruff voice anyway. the way he vibrates as he hums sends a calming feeling right to your body, and how he looks and feels so different from the very first time you were alone together.

he seemed so cool, passing the blunt to you and blowing his smoke into your mouth, kissing you like you’re just another girl in his roster; but right now, you were far from it.

now, not only is he still cool, but he’s also the most caring person you know and is something so far from his appearance and band: this is just one in many instances of how much he takes care of you. from the same fingers that strum upon the stainless steel, they travel miles over your body, your face like the first songs he learned on the guitar, weaving a melody and language so intricate only the two of you speak it.

silently, you feel him push you forward while he slots his legs on the other side of your body, letting you naturally rest with your back to his chest. “wanna learn?”

“i am in the most terrible state, suguru,” you whisper, reaching over to take a tissue. there, you blow your nose and clear out your nostrils until the next round, groaning softly at the grossness of the tissue.

“ohh . . but wasn’t someone saying that she isn’t dying?”

your jaw drops, “i can’t believe you would use that against me.”

the corners of your boyfriend’s lips turn up in a sly smile, “just quoting my girl. but—”

this time, he’s the one reaching over much further than you, hand clutching the neck of the guitar through the bag. gently, he settles it on both your laps, laughing when a small oof leaves your lips at just how heavy his bass was.

“i’ll do all the playing, you just mirror my movements.” with one more kiss to your temple, geto reaches around easily to play the starting notes of psycho killer. while there’s a clear layering of the lead, vocals and drums in his head, you’re just left confused by the repetitive bass.

but soon, you’re able to catch the notes that repeat over eight counts, hypnotised by the other’s longer fingers as they transition into the chorus line. it’s a little more complicated, now, descending into chords that you frankly don’t have any grasp on. one look at your face is enough to send him into soft laughter.

“okay, okay, let’s just focus on the verse.” if you weren’t feeling lightheaded from the fever before, you are now when geto curls his hands around yours, placing your finger easily on the fifth fret of the first string.

“so here . . we have the first bar of A notes, easy? then . .” he demonstrates the first four notes, plucking the strings for you before moving it down to the third fret to play the G note. a small smile spreads across his face when you slowly get the hang of it: six notes of A, two eighth notes, and then a G on the same string. geto slowly releases his left, letting you play on the melody while he helps you to pluck.

“that’s it,” still natural, it doesn’t faze geto at all to nuzzle his head into your neck from behind and to start kissing up your shoulder to your jaw, fingers still expertly plucking the string. the both of you repeat the bass line until he’s grabbing your awkward right hand and quietly, he angles your fingers so you’re following him, “you’re a fast learner.”

“i have a great teacher,” you mumble, and suguru doesn’t tell you that you just willingly kissed his jaw out of habit — because he knows you’d freak out at the possibility of getting him sick. it’s sweet, that in your delirious state you’re still acting out of admiration at the back of your mind. like the bass, loving geto feels as natural as the repetitiveness of psycho killer.

the bass notes reverberates through your bodies, just almost acting like a trance that makes your fingers falter upon the steel strings. he goes on to slowly play the chorus, stretching his fingers into weird shapes. he plays various chords, voice cracking just a bit when he tries to sing the vocals and you laugh softly.

“i just don’t have satoru’s higher register.” geto jokes, knowing you’re close to falling asleep from the way you hum and give one worded answers, so he easily takes over from you, changing it to an easy song. you let the low notes of the bass serenade you to sleep as you curl more into your boyfriend, but not before you hear a glimpse of geto’s harmonised singing to yellow.

it’s not often you hear him sing, being a bassist and all, but there is a nice edge to his voice — not quite made for vocals but you know he can do it if he tries. and even if you don’t voice it out, geto thinks the same thing. it’s similar to this stupid love thing that’s got him all tangled up and distracted, too, and he realises so many new things about himself through you.

you give love a fresh breath of life, nothing like the things suguru sings about in his unfinished demos and notebooks — multitude of things that involved you and his fucked-up perceptions and the foolishness of his parents telling him he’d find the same. you are all he thinks about when he sees the black cough syrup and he can’t stop craving the feel of your body against his.

the moment your breathing turns even and you sag against his embrace is when the strings stops and his breathing escalates. in geto suguru’s arms is the personification of something he never thought he would let into his life, yet you carry the choirs of love and acceptance so effortlessly like heath’s bass guitar solos and atsushi sakurai’s spotless vocals.

suguru’s head simply falls onto your unknowing shoulder, a small fuck that leaves his lips and a smile that he can’t contain is all he needs to know.

@mysugu @suget @slttygeto @na-t0 💟

[acid-ixx]

They aren't finished but I wanted to give you these! They're all WIPS so so far. Some are a bit older and you can tell what the newer ones are that I just made right now.

Thank you for posting a new chapter. It was an amazing read and I just loved it so much! Still trying to find those song references 😂

chapter spoilers and drafts (again &. again)

— masterlist ! ; chapter 4 ; ash's commisions

OH MY GOD THIS IS SUCH A BLESSING??? BANGER AFTER BANGER AFTER BANGER I SWEAR 💞

ash, you have always provided my little fanbase for my series so much food for thought, this is absolutely beautiful in every way. i literally don't care if they're wips or unfinished because either way you always make do with what i write, descriptive or not. i love your artstyle and how soft you draw the mc and how handsome conner is (i literally showed your art off to all my friends). you're so talented and i wish to reciprocate all the efforts you've done for this series 😭

i'm serious. from your portrayal of the mc, to them flying with conner, you never once disappoint anyone.

because of this, i'd like to leak some parts of my story from chapter five and beyond 💕! thank you so much for this, and i hope my yapping below suffices.

major spoilers below the cut!

the graduation photo! i have something planned with that, and i'd delve so much deeper (soon) with just how much a single photo can influence bruce's line of thought once he discovers that picture frame. love how happy mc is in the photo because, for me, it symbolizes them growing up (quite literally) and acknowledging a new path in life, alongside only finding alfred as their only father figure compared to bruce.

you consider yourself reserved, and prefer your life living within the confines of privacy and protection from media exposure. your mother always told you: better safe than sorry once; right after you've asked her about why you can't seem to find personal information about your father when she helped you search him up occasionally.

all the questions you ask her about the lack of your father's preferences — because you merely wanted to know more about him beyond the stories she told you! — she rebutted with a soft smile, a kiss on your head, and an explanation.

she'd warn you about the dangers of media exposure, about how your father and her prefer to keep their relationship a secret, and how too much cameras and paparazzi flashes can blind you.

she said that someone's perception of another person could be ruined once their deepest secrets are revealed. that's why your papa isn't seen beyond the doors of the manor he resides in; because people are attracted to mystery and allure.

hence why she'd restricted you from the usage of any devices within your household during your childhood, other than the excuse of having no money to afford it.

and you always abide by that principle of secrecy; especially right after alfred had saved you from... whatever happened years ago in elementary. from when that man... no, those men knew about your identity...

so, safe to say you were an introvert, at least when it comes to social media. the concept of the fear of missing out never once rattled your brain, no matter how anxious you are whenever you're with your friends; scared that you wouldn't fit in. but they never cared and accepted you with open arms, so it doesn't really matter, no?

you're safe now that you're at metropolis.

and like she always said, better safe than sorry! keep it within you and never out!

so why?

why is it just right after you've opened your twitter app— why is it that your face is plastered all across news accounts?

anyways, the second and third images are so romantic!!! and cute, and cured my depression i swear. i showed this to my one friend and she told me that conner's hand size compared to mc's is straight up hot, and i agree! i love the hand placement, and the way conner holds the mc so softly! yes, i too, would love to touch his man-tits beyond his impeccably tight shirt and play with his hands!

and the cute little panel with him squishing their face and desire their confirmation that, they do, in fact, think they're hot. he's a very insecure man after all, and his self-worth would revolve around your perception of him. he doesn't see you as god, but he doesnt see you as his everything. every opinion matters from you, and that's what makes the green flag part about him.

fun fact about him in the series! he loves to moisturize his hands with lots of skin care products because he read from an article once that some people prefer the feel of soft or moisturized hands. he definitely did not wait for the moment for you to touch him for the first time in forever since he first saw you! yeah, he's a bit more freaky than i let him out to be. the more you're exposed to him, the more you'll learn just how obsessed he is.

as for all the people asking if i'd write more about him: the answer is yes! he's a vital character, so don't worry because he'll appear in many scenes either way. for those concerned about why he didn't save the mc— well, chapter five will explain soon 🩷

and this art perfectly portrays it! it's seen from an outside perspective and they look very pretty, yet from what they see with their eyes is a different thing. the longer you stare at yourself, the more your image is distorted. i intentionally added the flower analogy because flowers are portrayed as pretty, no matter the size and shape. even as they wilt or sag, they still retain some color and a semblance of what was once a history of their prime.

then lastly! the mirror scene. it all returns to chapter three, chapter four was a sequel of their breakdown containing mirrors. reflections and the perception of one self is an important aspect of my series because it reminds me of myself, so them nit-picking each and every insecurity whilst staring at the mirror; that's a scene i wrote based off of a real life experience of mine. having both attractive parents, or those acknowledged as conventionally pretty, whilst being in an environment filled with as equally smart or attractive people, comparing yourself to them all the time, is a struggle.

the only way to make flowers 'ugly' is by destroying them, by stepping on them, ripping them apart, never once caring for them. i think that's very crucial because people do see anything destroyed or stripped away from its foundation a mess, or so. but there's always beauty in everything and i abide by that thought!

again, thank you so much ash for drawing this and bringing my story to life! you, alongside many other users who send in their fanarts, are always such an inspiration for me to write! you guys are the backbone of my series and i stand by my sentence!!! may you get plenty of commissions and plenty of money to support you <333

also, the FLOWER BOTTLE AND THE CAT PAW REFERENCE! i love how everyone accepts that we have a canon cat now based solely off of this. i think that's precious, and having a feline pet is a great little choice for my own plot (just to lessen the pain of the angst).

i hope you enjoyed this little mess rant!

(as for the songs, don't worry, the lyrics become more prevalent for chapter five! chapter four doesn't have any explicit lyrics contained in them, only implications.)

[cakelitter]

Between Me and You Major Leon x Fem Reader !one shot!

summary: Leon catches feelings for new apprentice

content: slight NSFW, mentions of masturbation, age gap, reader is 22, death island Leon

words: 2.2k

a/n: longest one I've written so far, don't really plan on it being a series but we'll see. Not my proudest work though.

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It’s October 7th, one of the many days that Leon dreads. Why? Cause a new batch of trainees come waltzing through the doors of the DSO after applying to be here. Why is that such a big deal? Cause he was assigned to be their major, their coach, their superior, whatever you want to call it. You can write that title in a cursive font in pink and decorate it with pretty bows and pearls and he’d still fucking hate it.

Seeing these eager young men and women willingly sign themselves up to work in this field is practically suicide. Most of them walk in here wanting to be a cool agent the way they are portrayed in shows and movies, you know blowing shit up, saving the day and picking up a hot new chick on the way. Bullshit.

The process of becoming an agent is usually the training period which takes about 12 to 15 months, then when the trainee is ready they get sent to sign the DSO contract as the final step of the way. Reality is, the minute that contract is signed and you are assigned your first mission, is the minute that most trainees realize what they signed up for. Pain, suffering, and restless nights are all part of the job. Most rookie agents regret going down this path but by then it would be too late to turn back, not like that’s an option.

Every year it’s the same song and dance, he argues with the higher-ups over this position the same way he did 6 years ago, and of course he never succeeded at winning those battles. “The DSO’s Golden Boy” more like their bitch, his only way of escaping this hell is to reach the age of retirement, or maybe they’ll keep slaving his old ass till his heart eventually gives out only to be replaced by someone else 20 minutes later.

The sound of his boot’s echoes through the hallway as he makes his way to the gym where this year’s victims await. His hand holds the folders of trainees for this year which he never bothered to look through beforehand, why ruin the surprise? The door opens and he is greeted by a sight he’s seen too many times, trainees standing in a straight line waiting for him. He takes a deep breath and walks in.

“Sorry for being late, had a few things to take care of”

The tension in the room only seems to increase as he starts making his way to the first person in line while opening the folders. He checks the name enlisted then looks at the face of the person in front him, studying their face and body language before making mental assumptions of whether this person has it in them to make it to the finish line, a game he likes to play to make things more fun, for him at least, and so far each year he always guessed it right.

Everything is going the way it normally does, nothing out of the ordinary till he reaches the last person in line. A girl’s name, interesting hadn’t had a female trainee in a while, that’s a way to spice things up for this year. He looks up from his folder to your face.

You poor thing.

Puppy eyes looking up at him is an understatement, how could such a sweet thing as you end up here? You’re pretty, a little too pretty actually. Shoulders tensed, hands fidgety, lips practically trembling, this process must feel so scary for you. The light coming from the nearby window alluding your soft features, you just might be the most angelic thing he’s ever seen and you’re expected to kill bioweapons? Your lips look so- he’s staring. Fuck.

Your tense expression turns into a confused one as he studies your features before snapping back from whatever planet he was on and walks away to stand where he could be seen by everyone before beginning to give them the same speech he gave to hundreds before them.

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Two months have passed since then and he would be a liar if he said you weren’t the one catching his eye the most. He assumed your elimination would be easy, l mean look at you, you look like you don’t have it in you to kill a fly. But he fell for the oldest rick in the book and did the biggest mistake of underestimating his opponent, you managed to pass your first monthly evaluation with flying colors, and still doing great so far. Sure, you have some weak points, but you excel in knife skills and defenses.

He watches the way you behave, your expressions, movements, your habits, you’ve become more of a lab rat to him to analyze, a cute rat at that though, maybe a guinea pig. What the fuck is he even talking about.

Albeit he spent the past two months studying you, you still manage to make moves leaving him perplexed on how you even managed to think about that. It’s like you have a trick up your sleeves each time that he genuinely can’t predict. You manage to take on men twice your size and come out unscathed, then without fail, after each match you win, you give him that stupid smile which is full of pride and that screams  “Did you see that!”

You’re so desperate for his approval it’s adorable, the way your face lights up when he compliments your strategy and technique, the way you memorized and learned some of his signature moves and incorporated it into your work, and the way you take note of his comments and work on improving your self instead of throwing a tantrum like the rest.

Ok fine maybe, perhaps, possibly he has favorites, but someone like you surely deserves the special treatment. So what if you did a mistake that could’ve gotten your entire team killed? So what if you were 15 minutes late a couple of times? Would he have lost his shit of someone else did that? No doubt, but it’s you so it’s fine.

He knew that he had a problem when once you were going up against one of your fellow trainees and they ended up going too far and hurting you, he almost kicked him out of the program on the spot. The injury wasn’t severe, a cut on your thigh, nothing a few bandages couldn’t fix, a wound that he decided to treat himself when there is a whole infirmary upstairs...

“Does it hurt?”

“Squeeze my hand if it burns too bad”

“It’s okay, you’re okay”

Is all he can remember whispering to you, as tears brimmed in your eyes from the burning sensation of the alcohol making contact with the open wound. Afterwards you were limping like a kicked puppy for a couple of days. Maybe if he kissed it better it would’ve healed faster? Get a grip Kennedy.

Once you had a knife move you were struggling with so he offered to spend a few hours extra to help you with it. He demonstrated the way it’s done but you still got it wrong, so he walked behind you grabbing your hand which in turn was holding the knife. His back was pressed against yours as he bent down a bit to reach your level making his mouth dangerously close to your ear. The calloused skin on his hand was juxtaposing the soft one on yours while the scent of your shampoo filled his nostrils, his voice was husky as he spoke softly to you as if you were made out of glass.

“You need to do it more swiftly, no need to be so stiff with it.”

You nodded eagerly, as he guided your hands once more. In the past 6 years of training, he has never even once spoke this sweetly to one of his apprentices before, hell he never even offered spending extra time after his shift to help them.

“Got it?”

“Yes, major.”

Yeah, he jerked off after that. Felt extremely guilty afterwards, he could hear Claire’s voice calling him a creepy old man, a crib robber, disgusting, the list goes on, before chopping his dick off. Like there is only a 16 year old age gap it could be worse… That’s a sentence he never thought he would say.

He sat on his couch staring blankly, you’re giving him a mid-life crisis without even knowing it. And so he made the decision of pushing you away, that means no longer letting you get away with things by simply batting your eyelashes at him, no more giving you extra praise, no more giving you extra attention. And you know what, for the first 3 days he was doing great, treating you like the others and being the major he’s supposed to be from the beginning, cold and professional, just like the man that trained him. The look on your face when you flashed him your bright smile and he didn’t reciprocate like usual made him want to die right then and there, but it had to be done.

Everything was going according to plan…that was until he was in his office doing paperwork when you knocked on his door asking to speak. You walked in and sat on the chair in front of his desk as he watched you.

“Major, is everything okay?- Like did I do something wrong?”

He took in a deep breath and sighed, how is he supposed to tell you why he’s doing this?

‘No, I just have a massive crush on you at my prehistoric age’ this is getting ridiculous.

“No, why would you think that?” Playing dumb, a classic.

“Well ,I don’t know, you just seem like you’re upset with me. Is my performance lacking?

God, you’re dense, totally clueless on what’s going on, either that or you’re also playing dumb and now you’re both clowns in this circus, except this circus sucks and it’s also on fire.

“No no, you’re performance is fine I just uh-“

You tilt you head to the side raising your brows a bit.

“I’ve just been having a couple of rough days is all, you can go back now.”

You nod and smile before thanking him, he nods back and smiles slightly and just like that you leave. Great job Leon, congrats on coming up with the worst lie in history and sending your self back to square one. He doubts that he even thinks anymore when he’s around you, maybe he should get put down, that way hopefully in his next life he can fall in love with someone his age, have a kid or two, and work a normal nine to five job.

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A couple months have passed since that day, and his feelings for you are still going strong. You had him on his knees every night praying- no, begging god for the ability to simply move on, when the last time he stepped into a church was back in high school. Do you have that effect on every person that has ever liked you or is it just him that’s losing his moral compass?

He’s now sitting in a meeting room with the higher-ups as they discuss the status of the trainees so far. Being completely honest, he isn’t even registering a word they are saying till he suddenly heard your name being said and that was enough to draw his attention. They are now discussing you.

“We’ve been looking recently at her performance and she’s doing great. Isn’t that right Mr. Kennedy?”

“You can say that yes, but there is still some improvement to be done in some departments”

“Well, her skills are certainly developing very quickly considering the short period she’s been here. We’re considering giving her another week or so before considering her ready. Some other organizations have also seen her files and performance and are actually requesting her to transf-“

“She’s not ready”

His voice interrupts one of the higher-ups. Transfer? Leaving the program? A week? He won’t see you anymore?

“Training period should be a minimum of a year and she’s only been here for six months. I-”

“That’s not up for debate Mr.Kennedy. We already made our decision.”

You’re more than ready, he knows that. He simply just doesn’t want to accept the fact that you’re gonna be gone soon. You’ve just recently started getting closer to each other, spending some time alone practicing together, you’ve gotten so good at combat you’re almost as good as him. He even starting telling you some of his stupid jokes.  And now you’re leaving? He’s been so distracted with what he was feeling and forgot about how your time together is limited, that one day you’re going to leave to do what you always planned on doing. He’s in too deep and doubts that he’d be able to move on easily, but at the same time he can’t just confess.

The more he thinks about it the more he realizes how much this situation is a lose-lose no matter what, he can either, never tell you and watch you walk out that door, or he could tell you and have you be absolutely disgusted with him and then walk out that door. Unless… no, no way.

He lets these thoughts marinate in his head as he decides his next move. And a few days later, he decides to bite the bullet and tell you. He’d never forgive himself if he found out later on that he had a chance but lost it. And so as you were walking down the hallway you hear a familiar masculine voice call out to you.

“My office, we need to talk”

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ * *⋆·˚ ༘ *

[thetravelingtyper]

On the same page...(Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader Bookshop! AU) pt 1

After a disastrous breakup, you, an American author, escape to a little London bookstore with your best friend. However, when one patron takes a certain interest in you, you wonder if your story has been finished after all...

Part 2, Masterlist

“You used to get it in your fishnets

Now you only get it in your nightdress

Discarded all the naughty nights for niceness

Landed in a very common crisis

Everything's in order in a black hole

Nothing seems as pretty as the past though

That Bloody Mary's lacking in Tabasco

Remember when you used to be a rascal?”

Smooth lyrics picked with a bass line and beats in on the radio, your ears perked up and catching the beginning of fluorescent adolescent you sighed. The song wasn't helping your down mood and you pick up your phone, ignoring the 10+ missed calls from your ex, and changed the song. After shuffling for a moment another piercing ring lit up your phone.

God leave me alone!

You sigh to yourself and toss your phone back on the counter of the bookstore as the door rings, announcing a customer. Your eyes flick to the door as a tall man enters. Lightly buzzed hair looks soft in the light and you catch yourself staring a little and he grins at you. You welcome him in and he nods then heads towards the history section. You watch how he carries himself. Strong and steady with a soldier's confidence. You think a little about it, the strength those arms carry before your phone rings again...

Your hand flies to your phone and you finally silence the poor thing, the buzzing remaining like a dying animal, a fit allusion to your past relationship. You remember the glittering smirks of the ladies and your fiance's grin, eyes shadowed with greed as you stood in a winning dress. The bastard ruined your image and your future with one moment, pulling the girl to him for a steaming kiss. Flashes of lights as the crowding press pushed past you and left you in the dark.

Glittering lights turned to stars as you left the gala alone, pushing the cheating bastard and your ‘friends’, truthfully venomous colleagues, to the back of your mind. You had gotten back home to your flat, packed everything you could, and kicked it to stay with a friend. You could imagine the headlines. “Downbeat author loses job and life!” You groan wipe a hand down your face and force yourself into the present.

You stand and shift your weight from foot to foot. It was a practice Sam had taught you when you both first moved out. His extended family was in the publishing business and owned a bookstore in London proper with an attached apartment on top. It was easy for him to steal his best friend away and across the pond for a new life chasing words through the drizzly streets of London.

Put yourself in the current moment, and learn to reset yourself if needed!

His warm voice rings in your ears and you smile, stretching and taking stock of the current moment. It was currently 5:36 on a Thursday, it was the middle of February so it was cold outside, currently not raining but cloudy. If you look you can see covered strangers pass back and forth outside the windows of the bookshop.

It had been a few months since you settled in but they were full of meeting Sam’s family and getting your writing career back on your feet. After the shame of the breakup, you had taken an extended break from writing. However restful for you, your manager was insistent on getting a book finished by the middle of the year, or year's end at worst. So you dutifully spent your time manning the bookshop and writing when you could bear to. But every time you opened that blank white screen you grimaced, seeing...

A large thunk on the counter makes you jump. Your eyes and mind darting back to the present.

“Aye sorry lass.” A thick Scottish voice apologizes and you catch first his smile, he's teasing.

You shake yourself out of it and reach over the counter to grab at his book, A History of Military Maneuvers.

“You certainly chose some dense reading material,” You quip at him as an easy smile lights up your face as well. You take the book and bag it, mentioning the price as he passes you a card.

“It's not too bad when you live it.” He explains simply. That would explain the physique.

“Did you serve?”

“I did once, not anymore. Took one too many and it put me on the sidelines. I found quieter work around the city.” He says it calmly but you catch his hand and rub his shoulder. It seems a sore spot for him. You think of your career back in the States and frown.

“I don’t blame you,” a hurt passes over your eyes. Your writer's brain latches onto his character. He seemed to enjoy part of his career, but you can see the injury in your mind's eye now, one moment normal then the next some career-ending injury.

“What do you do? I've seen you in the store before.” He brushes a hand through his hair a little ashamed.

You raise a brow,

“Been watching have you? I am an author back in the States for your information, Mr…?”

He grins at you and offers his hand across the counter,

“John, John MacTavish but my friends just call me Soap.”

You return his handshake. His hands are rough and completely engulf yours, a fact that makes your heart skip a beat at the realization.

His phone then rings and he pulls away from you to check it. 

“I got to get this love, but it was nice finally putting a name to the face. I'll be seeing ye around.”

With that Soap takes the bag and makes his exit into the cold evening. With his departure, you feel your spirits lift. Maybe, you think flexing your hand, there is a story to be written after all.

[dinneronvenus]

Doesn’t Matter Now

⭑ Gojo x fem reader

⭑ inspired by the song “doesn’t matter now” by flyingfish (listen to that while you read for max effect)

⭑ tags: ANGST ON 100, description of a jujutsu technique that forfeits the sorcerer’s life, death, a funeral, a hopeless and depressed Gojo goes to a medium, hinted reincarnation

⭑ synopsis: Gojo already lost his only true friend, so he never thought losing a woman could hurt him so badly

“There’s nothing you could’ve done, Gojo. You didn’t even know.” Utahime spoke softly, her own pain wanting to break through in her voice. “Nobody did.”

Gojo remained silent, eyes glazed over, a cocktail of negative emotions mixing in his mind. He couldn’t even look at Utahime, whose outfit would remind him of you. They stood in the ruins of the shrine your family had built and ran for generations. It had come under attack by many cursed spirits and you had fulfilled your duty to protect the people who lived and worked there, as well as its secrets. With everyone else safe, it would be rebuilt and restored to its original glory, something that should have been a silver lining.

“It is not uncommon for a high priestess to give her life for her people.” Utahime said, voice breaking at the end. This brought Gojo even less comfort.

“You think I don’t know that? You think I hadn’t heard her say those exact words to me before?!” He snapped, still not able to take his eyes off the scene in front of him. It was Utahime’s turn to stay silent.

In the middle of the leveled temple, there was the evidence of your bravery. A set of heavy stone doors bearing an ancient inscription, left open by whatever you had summoned to walk through them, loomed over the two sorcerers. Gojo already knew they’d be used as a gate to honor your memory and remember your sacrifice. His eyes begged to see any scrap of you in the rubble. Maybe this was just a trick, and you were hiding behind one of the doors.

“What could her technique have been to have killed her in the process?” He whispered to the open air, not thinking anyone could’ve heard him.

“Gehenna Gate, it is a technique with the highest of costs,” A raspy voice broke the unbearable quiet. It was your mother, who despite everything, managed to keep a small smile on her face for your surviving friends. “I am sorry she never told you that properly. She wanted to protect you, in her own way.” Her hand came down on Gojo’s shoulder and the kindness in her touch almost burned him alive.

“I didn’t… I wish she…” Gojo stuttered out, hot tears stinging his eyes. Your mother pulled him into a hug, shushing him like a child.

Five days later, your funeral was to be held at your family cemetery in the mountains overlooking the temple. Gojo had no idea how he would survive that. He spent the time until your funeral looking for someone who could communicate with the dead. Thanks to his power and connections, he found one the night before and prepared himself to have one last conversation with you.

“Welcome, sir. I assume you’re here to see Mistress Takemi?” The young man spoke just loud enough to be heard over the jingle of the bell from the door shutting behind him.

“Yeah, and she knows already so I’m just gonna head back there,” Gojo sauntered through the foyer and down the hall to the back room where a woman in black and purple robes standing over a large glass table was waiting on him.

“Welcome Satoru,” she spoke cheerfully with a deep voice that echoed her years of life.

“Don’t call me that. Can we get started?” The overly familiar attitude irked him. The woman cleared her throat and dropped her cheerful act.

“I suppose we can get right to it then.”

The woman had a technique that essentially made her into a human ouija board. Her hands rested on the glass table and it began to glow a soft greenish-blue. Gojo could see the dark circles and puffiness of his eyes in the reflection, suddenly feeling ashamed of himself for being this unable to accept that you were gone.

“Satoru?” His name again, but this time he could hear your voice mixing with Takemi’s voice. He said your name in disbelief, tears of joy in his eyes.

“Yes, yes! It’s me, I wa—”

“You can’t do this, Satoru. It’s against the laws.”

“Please, don’t tell me that right now. You hid so much from me, please just let me ask you one thing.”

Silence. Fearing he’d miss his chance, he went ahead with his question.

“Did you ever really love me?” The depth of sadness and desperation in his voice was unbearable to you, even in your disembodied state. “Why couldn’t you have told me? I could’ve helped you, I would’ve done anything to have saved you.”

“In the mountains where they’ll bury me, follow a trail that begins with pink and white flowers. You’ll find everything you want to know at the end. Goodbye, Satoru.”

“No, no, no,” He wiped the tears from his face and gripped both of Takemi’s shoulders, shouting. “Please come back! I can’t do this again!”

Regaining full control of herself, Takemi pushed Gojo off her and had him escorted out of her shop. The whole world was one hideous shade of grey. He walked for a while with no destination in mind but the grave. He wanted to go find that trail right now but he didn’t have anything else left in him. He wanted to sleep for the rest of his life. Returning home, he set his alarm and went to bed with your instructions in mind.

Utahime and Gojo walked with each other up the mountain to the funeral site. Utahime thought it was odd but refreshing to see him dressed in more traditional clothing. Just one more thing that only you could get him to do.

Everyone took their places, and your father stepped up to the podium. “We are gathered here to send our beloved high priestess to her place of final rest with her ancestors…”

Once the funeral was complete, no one but Gojo, Utahime and your mother lingered too long.

“I’m sorry again for your loss, ma’am.” Utahime said, bowing deeply. Your mother gave her another one of those wise, otherworldly smiles.

“I don’t think I’ve really lost her.” She said before taking a last look around the cemetery and turning to leave. “Why don’t we give him some space?” She motioned to Gojo and Utahime followed her.

Now alone with your memory and your ghost, Gojo began to look for this trail you had mentioned. It took him a while to find it but when he did, his path to the end was quick. It led to a small clearing where the grass was lush, and he was consumed by the smell of many different kinds of flowers and plants. The sight of the small garden was as beautiful as you were to him.

Looking around for anything that could be the answer you spoke of, he saw a faint bit of energy coming from inside a tree. When he got close to the tree, he found it had a hollow spot in it where you’d left a diary. He fished it out and walked to a shaded place in the clearing to begin reading it. Every page was an entry about the two of you together. All of your private feelings from when he was just a crush, and once you had gotten closer, you even glued in pictures you’d taken together.

Gojo couldn’t control his tears or hide his sobs. His body shook against the tree as he held the diary close to his chest. He calmed down enough to continue reading it, with the last entry being dated a week ago.

She knew she was going to die… He thought. You had written about the rise of cursed spirits in the area of increasing numbers and strength and how you felt like it was time for you to fulfill your duty to your people. More than that though, you wrote about how you wished you could have told Gojo. How you wanted to stay with him forever, how he was the only thing you’d ever loved as much as you loved the Gods, and how because of that you wanted to make sure he was safe and didn’t have to fight for once.

It was all too much, Gojo swore he would drown in his own tears right there. The wind picked up and blew the diary’s pages, landing on entry from before you two had met.

6.25 — Training Notes: after a long session of training and studying my technique’s history in my family. I have learned of a way I might be able to circumvent its cost. If I summon a deity of destruction that has the ability to reincarnate, then I will reincarnate too! One of my ancestors did that long ago, although it took 59 days for them to come back.

Gojo couldn’t believe what he was reading. He wiped his eyes on his sleeves furiously and scrambled to his feet. He stored your diary in an inner pocket of his kimono and made his way down the mountains to the temple ruins.

He inspected the gate and found exactly what he needed to be able to accept the loss of the only woman he’s ever loved. Utahime was strolling the grounds when she noticed him in the air, getting a close look at the doors.

“Gojo, what do you think you’re doing? Get down here!” Utahime found his behavior so disgraceful. He chuckled on his way back to earth.

“I was just checking on something. Had to be sure that I wasn’t seeing things.”

His eyes were red and puffy, but his annoyingly cheerful attitude was starting to return. Utahime couldn’t tell if she was relieved or annoyed.

“Checking on what?”

“Eh,” Gojo put a hand over the diary in his pocket.

“Doesn’t matter now.”

[aliaology]

HOUSE THAT BUILT ME

summary: reader (older hughes sister) takes a small flight to toronto to say goodbye to the home she grew up in before moving to michigan.

pairings: hughes brothers x older sister!reader

warnings: just angst. part three of my older hughes! sister au so it kinda contradicts never grow up bc i almost made the michigan house be her childhood house with the childhood room line, but the toronto house was her childhood house, i just lowkey forgot they lived in toronto in the first part.

you didn't expect to be here. you didn't expect yourself to take a last minute flight to toronto and stand in the front of the house you used to call home. but you felt drawn to do so, you had to come back one last time. even if people told you you couldn't, you still did.

you felt yourself walking up the stairs. your handprints littered them, along with little quinnys, little jackys, and little little lukeys. the multi-colored handprints were a stark contrast to the white, chipped paint of the porch stairs.

they creaked under you, causing you to step slower. you now stood in front of the screen door that covered the red door. your hand shakily reached up to the doorbell, pressing it. the all-familiar tune played. it wasn't a normal 'ding!' no, your mother made it ring to a beat. one you would tap your foot to every time it was rung.

the door creaked open, revealing a slightly older woman. "can i help you?" she asked, eyes squinted from the sun.

"im so sorry to bother you, i know you dont know me but, i um- i used to live here." you awkwardly laughed. "me and my brothers are actually the kids who did those handprints on the stairs." you informed.

she opened the screen door, stepping out. she had a soft smile on her face and waved you over to the small swing that was on the porch.

you two ended up sitting and talking. "the back bedroom, that was mine. i did my homework on a dainty desk and that room is where i learned to play guitar." you spoke.

a fond smile was on the womans face. "i've never once changed anything in this house since me and my family moved here." she told.

"i couldnt. i actually hoped one of the kids who did those handprints would show up. i like learning of what this place used to be. plus, whoever did that kitchen was amazing." she chuckled.

"my dad helped my mom do that. it was a dream kitchen for her. he helped a lot of her dreams come true with this house." you said.

you looked over the property. the green grass, the live oak, the trees that surrounded the house. you looked back at her.

"do you- do you think i could come in? i just want to look around. i swear as soon as im done, ill leave. i wont take nothing, just my memories." you smiled.

she let you. you found yourself tracing the walls as you walked upstairs. the same texture was there as it used to be. the steps still creaked twice with every step. the air was still cold, as it used to be.

you walked into your old room. the walls were still the dark purple they used to be. it made you remember who you used to be. the happy-go-lucky little girl whos only care in the world were her three younger brothers.

you weren't done looking around, but you already dreaded the idea of leaving. leaving home wasn't what you wanted to do. doing it once was hard enough. you could see yourself, your younger self, sitting at her desk.

feet kicking with a pencil in her hand as she hummed to some random song that she heard on the tv. she would smile every once in awhile as she did her math homework, realizing she understood something.

you could see young jack running in, a water gun in his hand, and shooting you with it, ruining your mood and your homework. you could see little luke rushing in behind him, tackling jack to the ground. little quinn would pin jack down and little you would tickle him as payback. luke and quinn were your little sidekicks.

after awhile, you walked back to the porch. "thank you again, ma'am. this meant a lot to me. it helped being able to see and feel the house again." you told her.

she smiled. "of course dear." you gave her a polite nod and walked down the handprint-filled stairs. you got to see the house that built you, and instead of leaving with tears, you left with a small smile.

tags (perm); @slaythehousebootsdown13 , @um-mads , @outrunangelss

[goodnightmemes]

SUPERNATURAL SENTENCE STARTERS / SEASONS 4 - 5

❛ What’s the matter? You don’t think you deserve to be saved? ❜

❛ You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in. ❜

❛ Destiny can’t be changed. All roads lead to the same destination. ❜

❛ I have questions. I have doubts. I don’t know what is right and what is wrong anymore. ❜

❛ The only reason you’re still alive is because you’ve been useful. But the moment that ceases to be true, the second you become more trouble than you’re worth, one word, one, and I will turn you to dust. ❜

❛ Who do I have to kill to get some French fries around here? ❜

❛ How I feel, this… inside me, I wish I couldn’t feel anything. I wish I couldn’t feel a damn thing. ❜

❛ We’re all scared. That’s the big secret… We’re all scared. ❜

❛ If you think you have good intentions, think again. ❜

❛ It’s not blame that falls on you. It’s fate. ❜

❛ I’m tired of burying friends. ❜

❛ You ask me to open that door and walk through it…? You will not like what walks back out. ❜

❛ I’m sorry. This is a very serious, very emotional situation for you. I shouldn’t laugh. It’s just that, I mean, are they serious? They sent you to torture me? ❜

❛ Oh, you’ll spill your guts, one way or the other. I just didn’t want to ruin my shoes. ❜

❛ Most folks live and die without moving anything more than the dirt it takes to bury them. You get to change things. Save people. ❜

❛ I can’t see your face, but those are definitely your brooding and pensive shoulders. ❜

❛ You promised me my family would be okay! You promised you were gonna take care of them! ❜

❛ I gave you everything you asked me to give. I gave you more. This is the thanks I get? This is what you do? ❜

❛ Now for the punch line. Everybody dies. ❜

❛ Now I’m asking you, for once, trust me. ❜

❛ Maybe you’re right. Maybe there’s, no escape. After all, how can you run from what’s inside you? ❜

❛ You don’t know me. You never did. And you never will. ❜

❛ Well, boo hoo! I am so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess! ❜

❛ Are you under the impression that family’s supposed to make you feel good, make you an apple pie, maybe? They’re supposed to make you miserable! That’s why they’re family! ❜

❛ We’ve been through much together, you and I. And I just wanted… to say, I’m sorry it ended like this. ❜

❛ What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here! ❜

❛ No more crap about being a good soldier, there is a right and there is a wrong here, and you know it! ❜

❛ If there is anything worth dying for, this is it. ❜

❛ Well, can’t make an omelet without cracking a few eggs. In this case, truckloads of eggs, but you get the picture. ❜

❛ Oh God. Is that a molar? I have a molar in my hair? This has been a really stressful day. ❜

❛ I’ve got no idea, but what I do have is a GED and a give-em hell attitude, and I’ll figure it out. ❜

❛ I’m hunted, I rebelled, and I did it, all of it, for you, and you failed. ❜

❛ I lost everything… for nothing. ❜

❛ You feel bad now? Wait ‘till you’re thigh-deep in warm corpses. 'Cause my friend, I’m just getting started. ❜

❛ We’ve talked about this. Personal space? ❜

❛ I was dead from the moment we said hello. ❜

❛ Don’t you get it? You can’t run from yourself. ❜

❛ Same song, different verse. Things are never gonna change with you. Ever. ❜

❛ My heart breaks for you. The weight on your shoulders, what you’ve done, what you still have to do. It is more than anyone could bear. ❜

❛ You’re not fooling me, you know that? With this sympathy for the Devil crap? I know what you are. ❜

❛ Whatever you do, you will always end up here. No matter what choices you make, whatever details you alter, we will always end up…here. ❜

❛ Maybe we are each other’s Achilles’ Heel. Maybe they’ll find a way to use us against each other, I don’t know. I just know we’re all we’ve got. ❜

❛ You can do the right thing. You’ve got choices. But if you make the wrong ones, it’ll haunt you for the rest of your life. ❜

❛ I have to believe someone can make the right choice, even if I couldn’t. ❜

❛ You know, I’m starting to get why parents lie to their kids. You want them to believe that the worst thing out there is mixing Pop Rocks and Coke - protect them from the real evil. You want them going to bed feeling safe. If that means lying to them, so be it. ❜

❛ I wish this were a TV show. Easy answers, endings wrapped up in a bow. But this is real. And it’s gonna end bloody for all of us. That’s just how it’s gotta be. ❜

❛ Now listen very closely. Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna suck it up, accept your responsibilities, and play the roles that destiny has chosen for you! ❜

❛ Are you giving me the 'Last Night on Earth’ speech? ❜

❛ What a peculiar thing you are. ❜

❛ I still love him. But I am going to kill him because it is right and I have to. ❜

❛ Think of the million random choices that you make, and yet how each and every one of them brings you closer to your destiny. Do you know why that is? Because it’s not random. It’s not chance. It’s a plan that is playing itself out perfectly. Free will’s an illusion. ❜

❛ I can see how broken you are, how defeated; you can’t win and you know it, but you just keep fighting, just keep going through the motions. You’re not hungry, because inside, you’re already dead. ❜

❛ We’re supposed to be a team, it’s supposed to be you and me against the world, right? ❜

❛ Not for nothing, but the last person who looked at me like that… I got laid. ❜

❛ Well, we’re working on the power of love. ❜

❛ I love you, but you are a great big bag of dicks. ❜

❛ No one gives us the right. We take it. ❜

❛ If anyone gets to end this world, it’s me. ❜

❛ Before we get down to brass tacks, some ground rules: No slaughtering each other, curb your wrath. Oh, and keep your hands off the local virgins. We’re trying to keep a low profile here. ❜

❛ Get the hell off my property before I blast you so full of rock salt, you crap margaritas. ❜

❛ I don’t understand your definition of good news. ❜

❛ You are not the burnt and broken shell of a man that I believed you to be. ❜

❛ You have an inflated sense of your importance. ❜

❛ To a thing like me, a thing like you, well… Think how you’d feel if a bacterium sat at your table and started to get snarky. ❜

❛ I’m old. Very old. So, I invite you to contemplate how insignificant I find you. ❜

❛ However you feel now, it’s only gonna get so very, very much worse… questions? ❜

❛ I suggest we imbibe copious quantities of alcohol. ❜

❛ You’re not a kid anymore, and I can’t keep treating you like one. Maybe I gotta grow up a little, too. ❜

❛ Come on, I’ve never lied to you, you could at least pay me the same respect. ❜

❛ We’re going to kill each other. And for what? We don’t even know the answer. Let’s just walk off the chessboard. ❜

❛ What would you rather have: peace or freedom? ❜

[oddvanilla]

Honey, I'm pregnant and it's yours

Also Petey misses you

Im scared even writing this, I know I'm gonna get smth along the lines of 'go the fuck away' but I jus can't help it

I know u know who this is

Also I'm also very scared of you at the moment

Thank you, and I know it seems weird but I can't help it but, I love you [I seem creepy, sorry, also u don't have to accept it]

Bye bye, u probably won't even post this but I've been killing myself thinking about doing this

Thank you

Also Petey really does miss u 🤣

Also just thanks again

[Also sorry I'm not like talking about our break up or anything Id just prefer to do that if I knew u want to too and not like this]

Bye bye for reals now, id put a silly photo but I'm doing this in anon for some reason :)

Bye bye

Also I know you probably didn't expect this to happen

But hey I needed to do something about it

Bye bye now

HOLY CRAP HOW DID I NEVER SEE THIS??? it must've gotten lost in my notifications or something idk...

HAI R**N* !!! I remember your name and every time I try to type my own, yours always comes first. Even when I'm filling up forums or crap...

I'm sorry for scaring you off!!! I still care about you. And for every time I forget to, here I'll just say: I still love you 🫶 even after everything that happened. You're like impossible to hate. I can't help it either🤷‍♀️

My sister still checks on you, even you know that. She tells me what happened to you and that kinda crap. I feel bad all the time, and I'm sorry. I would've said this way earlier If I could, but stuff happens,, YK?? It hurts me so bad knowing what I caused. I didn't mean to do this to you, and even back when we were friends I tried holding on because I can't let you ruin yourself. I miss what we had, that's one fact.

I do care if you kill yourself. I DO care if you slit your wrist. I do still care about you in general. All I wish you is love, that's pretty much. I even asked my sister to go and give you asks just so you're not alone anymore. I don't care if she replaces me,, hey at least you got a friend!!!

But I never deleted everything we shared. All the screenshots from our conversations are like a comfort place, even. I still listen to every song you used to spam. I know I hate pencey prep and frank iero, but I still listen to their music because it reminds me of you. I only hated MCR because I wanted you to have your own thing. I want you to focus on yourself and crap. But now I just went back to listening to MCR because it's all I have left of you. You deserve a real apology from me if you just let us talk this out!!!

I can't replace you, and you know that. I call people my husband or wife but I still have you in mind. You're the best person on here I know, and even though I hated it or pretended it, I miss waking up to lots of messages. Now I still wake up to those but from lots of different people. I don't like it that way, I wish you could just come back. I waited for you SO long and I gave up. I want you back and I would do anything for that. But I didn't go talk to you directly because you know I want you to have space. I miss having only ONE person to go to. I didn't ignore you because I had other people to talk to!!! If anything, my parents expected so much from me like school and other crap that I don't have time to reply to anyone either!!!

Now it's been rough and stuff. I almost have nobody to open up to. Everyone I know is either always asleep or always can't talk. But you're always there and that's one thing nobody can beat you at. I don't even text people first anymore because I feel like I'm a bother and when I'm with you it just feels easier because. You're accepting.

I never told anyone about what we had in detail. I never tried to do the same things WE did with anyone else either. Nobody has to know about what letters are missing in p** w*y h*g*er. Nobody has to know why we hated your brother and how he was a bitch. I don't even send people frerard fanfics anymore because I don't want a friendship story like ours just a 2.0 version. I think you're the one for me, if anything. I love you and you didn't mess up, I did.

I don't want you to leave me alone, I want you back. If YOU can do this then we could build everything back. just know that even if you don't want me, it's fine. But I won't try to find anyone better,, I'll just sit back, I guess🙏🙏 tell mamacita im not done with rizzing her up🙄🙄

[frank2blonded]

‣ bipolar

𝓟airing ↳ 42!Miles Morales X F!Reader

𝓘𝓷 𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓬𝓱 .. just a girl in the world who misses her ex.

𝓦arnings .. angst , short story

𝓐uthor's note .. i'm back!! the story is based off the song bipolar by peso pluma

prometi que iba a olvidarte,

i promised that i was going to forget you

You listened along to that line, thinking about him as Peso Pluma was singing that. How ironic.

You and Miles broke up 2 months ago.

After the break up, you tried focusing on yourself, your grades, and your friends. After all, you're only 16.

But when it's late at night, you think about the night he broke up with you.

You both had just went back home after a long day of hanging out with each other. Laughing and having a good time.

He suddenly got quiet. His face looked more serious. You noticed this, so you asked him if something was wrong.

"Hey, are you okay?" You rested your hand on his back.

He was silent again.

"I'm.." He didn't finish his sentence. It looked like he couldn't bring himself to say the rest of the words.

"You're..?" You chuckled a bit, but inside you were worried. Scared.

..

"I'm breaking up with you."

Those words.

You felt like you just got stabbed. Your stomach was turning. He said it with such a calm voice. The same voice that would say 'I love you.'

Your hand went back into your lap. You gulped. What were you supposed to do? Or say?

"Wh-" You stopped yourself. If you opened your mouth again, you would only burst into tears.

You took deep breaths. Your heart was racing. Was it something you did? What did you do? You thought you were the perfect girlfriend.

Slowly, tears were running down your face. You were starting to ruin your makeup. But you quickly wiped them off.

"Is it something I did?" You said, your voice being shaky.

"I'm sorry." Was he being serious? That's all he could say right now? He had to be kidding.

The silence in between the two expanded. You suddenly got up, getting your stuff from his room. Miles watched your every move. He saw you grabbing the plushies you bought him. The basket that you gave him for Valentines. The necklace and bracelet he gave you was now placed on his desk.

He walked into the room as you were still looking around. "You aren't gonna try to fight for us?" He asked. You paused. What?

"There's no way you just asked me that question." You couldn't even turn around to look at him in the eyes. "I'm bein' deadass."

"I'm not going to try and fight for someone who clearly wants nothing to do with me now." You stood on business.

But you wish you had said more.

pero me fallé, yo te volví a buscar

but i failed, i looked for you again

You did, you tried looking for Miles in every new guy that you met. None of them worked out, cause you just ended up ghosting them anyways. You felt so guilty trying to look for the right man when you know the one that you want the most is Miles.

porque por las noches yo fui débil

because at night i was weak

You couldn't help yourself but to stalk him again on another account. He hasn't been posting much. Maybe it's because he misses you too and he's sad? No. Don't be delusional. But.. what if?

y no puda evitar llamar a tu celular

and i couldn't avoid calling your phone

You went to your contacts to see his as 'my stinky boyfriend 💙❤️‼️' You couldn't change it, You always felt like you can still have another chance. You stared at the call button.

…

Ugh, fuck it. You brought the phone up to your ear as it was ringing. A few rings were heard and then it stopped. He didn't answer. (but that's what you thought.)

perdón, no lo sabes

sorry, you don't know

Then you heard a familiar voice. "Hello?" The deep, raspy voice that made you literally melt. "Miles?" You responded, with the biggest fucking smile on your face. "Y/N?" You heard him scoff a bit. "Why are you calling me?" You sighed, you were silent. After what seemed like forever, you finally said something,

pero yo te quiero con el corazón

but i love you with my heart

"I miss you Miles." Your stomach was turning. Why'd you say that? Oh my gosh. Fuck. He's silent.

"Yeah.. I-.."

"I miss you too, mami." You smiled. Your cheekbones started hurting. You almost started crying.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

…

"Can I come over?" You looked down at your clothes, then to your hair in the mirror. You sighed, "Yeah."

te quiero con el corazón.

i love you with my heart.

You waited for a bit to hear the rhythmic knock on your window. You immediately went to the window and opened it to see his face. He smiled at you and went inside your room. You didn't say anything, just stayed silent and admired each other. Even though you looked like total shit. He then hugged you, long and hard. You missed his touch. You melted into his lean body and smelled that cologne he always wears. You missed this.

"Gosh, you don't know how much I missed being with you." You whispered. You were both then looking into each other's eyes and your eyes were a bit teary. "Oh, trust me, I can tell." He joked as he was hearing the song playing. You both laughed.

The night ended well, and the morning was even better, feeling his strong arms around you.

[bingbongsupremacy]

Incognito AU

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

Warnings: idk

The story doesn't mention anything about body size or type.

Summary: All you wanted was a cup of coffee from the new cafe on Main Street. You definitely didn't expect to spill coffee on the Metal Icon Eddie Munson.

*Not Proof Read*

ABC List Stranger Things Masterlist

*****

" You can go on break. "

Those are the best words I've heard all day.

A grin crawls onto my face as I make my way to the register to clock out. " Thank you! "

Steve gives me a small grunt in response, returning to his phone. Five bucks says he's on tindr.

He doesn't look up as I leave the store, little bells from above the door ringing to announce my departure.

Today's been rough. I've been screamed at by multiple angry babies and passive aggressively argued with by multiple middle aged women. Who knew working at a bakery involved so much anger.

I make my way down the street towards one of the newer shops. It was finally completed last week. I've been so excited to try the coffee. Robin says their drinks are amazing.

The street is busy, as it always is. I'm almost hit by a shiny black honda on my way across the street.

Impatient people.

I finally make it to the front of the store. A little sign with the words ' Coffee Central ' hang above the door. Everything is freshly painted and clean.

As soon as I open the door I'm met with the strong scent of coffee. The shop is pretty busy. People bustle around, their chatter creating a soft buzz in the air.

I get in line at the very back. After about eight minutes, it's finally my time to order.

" What can I get for you today? " The chirpy barista asks.

" Um..." I scan the menu board, looking for the perfect drink. " Can I get a...cappuccino please? "

I hand the girl my money and immediately another barista begins to work on it. After a few minutes the other barista produces a drink. " Have a great day! "

I turn around to leave when I immediately make contact with a firm chest. My drinks' lip pops open, spilling out of the container as a result.

The man jumps back slightly in surprise, coffee spreading across his Metallica band Tee.

" I'm so sorry! " I immediately reply. " Fuck, I had no idea you were there! " I turn to grab a few napkins from the counter behind me. I hand them to the man in front of me, my cheeks heating up from embarrassment.

The man accepts the napkins, beginning to dab his shirt. " It's alright, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going either. " He says with a small laugh.

I take a moment to observe the man. His eyes are covered by a pair of dark shades. A small dark curl hangs next to his face, the rest of his hair hidden by a black beanie. His chain rattles slightly when he steps towards the nearby trashcan to throw out the soaked napkins in his hand.

" I feel so bad. " I say, handing him some more napkins. " Is there anyway I can make it up? I can give you money for your shirt. " I gesture to his now coffee stained white tee.

The man looks up at me. " Look, if you really want to repay me...let me by you another coffee. "

This guy.

" W-what? " I ask in surprise.

" I caused you to spill your drink. If anything, I should be repaying you. "

I shake my head. " I ruined your shirt. "

" Please. " The mans' voice is sincere.

I bite my bottom lip. I was really looking forward to that drink. " Fine. " I sigh. " But I still feel bad. "

The man's face breaks out into a grin. " If you really want to repay me, just sit with me for a bit. i could use the company. "

" I can do that. "

----

" What's your favorite song of theirs? " The man asks, his attention completely on me.

" Master of Puppets of course. " I grin, taking a sip from my drink.

" No way. " The mans' voice is full of excitement. " Me too. I play it on the guitar at least once a day. "

" Really? That's awesome. I've always wanted to learn the guitar, I just never really got around to it. " I admit.

In front of the man is a notebook full of words and little drawings. His nearly dull pencil lays messily on top of it.

I glance down at my phone. " Oh shit. " I mutter. I look back up at the man. " I loved talking to you but I really have to get back to work. I'm actually supposed to be back now. My boss is going to kill me. " I hurry to gather up my stuff.

" Wait, " The man stands up with me. " Could I get your number? "

My heart begins to pound. He's asking for my number?

This is the first guy I've run into that actually likes the same shit as me. He's funny, he's sweet an an absolute gentleman.

What dream am I in and can I please stay here?

" Y-yeah! " I smile. " Here, I'll write it down for you. " I pull out a pen from my pocket. I gently write my number on his left hand. " There, now I really have to go. Bye...? " I just realized I didn't learn his name. "

" Eddie. " He answers.

" Goodbye Eddie. "

" Goodbye, coffee girl. " He teases.

I roll my eyes in amusement. " Ha ha. " With that I push past the glass door. I turn back to look in the window at the man I just saw. He finally pulls off his sunglasses, holding his phone up to his face. Face ID.

He turns slightly so he gets more light from the window and I finally recognize the face.

He's the man who's been on so many magazines lately. His band is having a concert in one of the cities nearby in two days. The man who put Hawkins Indiana on the map.

Eddie fucking Munson.

I don't have time to stand around. I continue walking back to my store. My pocket buzzes and I pull out my phone, fully expecting a text from Steve asking where I am.

Instead I'm met with a text from an unknown number.

' Hey, coffee girl. '

[tieronecrush]

Hello! Love your work! Can I get a Javier Pena story where this song is the inspo: https://m.soundcloud.com/user-265940464-259651895/i-miss-u ? Basically Y/N is upset because she thinks Javi is cheating on her because he’s being distant but he’s actually just really stressed out? Can there be lots of fluff :) thank you btw!

thank you so much for your lovely compliment and for sending in this request!!! javi p is my husband so i loveeee love love writing for him!! hope this lives up to what you imagined!!!

cold hands

javier peña x f!reader

rating: M

word count: 2.3k

summary: your boyfriend javi has been distant for the past few weeks; canceling dates, staying late at work, leaving early in the morning, and….lacking intimacy. you can't help but wonder if something is going on, or someone.

warnings: insecurity, distant relationship, thoughts about infidelity, past infidelity, established relationship, pet names, it's javi so he's obviously going to allude to sexy times, very poor highschool level spanish please educate me

“Hey, baby! You leaving the embassy now?” You ran across your kitchen to pick up the landline on the second ring, abandoning the dinner cooking on the stove in hopes that it was your boyfriend. When his deep voice on the other end confirmed it, a smile crossed your face and was evident in the excitement in your tone.

A slow sigh comes from the other end, your heart immediately sinking in your chest. You knew what was about to come next. It wasn’t the first time this has happened in the past few weeks. It wasn’t even the first time it has happened this week.

“I’m sorry, cielto. I can’t make it tonight, Messina has Murphy and me pursuing a lead that has to happen tonight…”

These phone calls with Javi have become routine at this point. Always when he’s supposed to come and spend the night or is supposed to pick you up to come to his place; he’s canceled dates and has been leaving early in the mornings to go to work when you two do get to spend the night with each other.

Always something along the lines of “Messina ordered us”, “This has to happen tonight”, or “They need us to go to Medellín”. There was one time two weeks ago when all three of those reasons were used in the same sentence.

“It’s alright, Javi. See you tomorrow night, maybe?”

“I will come by right after I get off work tomorrow to pick you up and bring you over to my place. Lo prometo, mi amor. Estaré ahí para ti. (I promise, my love. I will be there for you).”

That is when you can’t take it anymore. The promise breaks your heart because you know he can’t keep it, that he probably won’t keep it. Tears fall down your cheeks as you bite your lip to stay quiet, all of your hard work ruined when you sniffle without thinking about it.

Javi’s heard the noise and knows that you must be crying, the image of you alone and upset breaking his heart. He shifts to turn to lean against his desk, prepared to stand there and comfort you until you feel better.

Except, the next second, Murphy is standing right next to him with an impatient look on his face. He’s tapping his foot and rushing him along with his hands, gesturing to his watch and then to the door.

Javi’s chest constricts as he listens to your soft sniffles crack over the line, another sigh falling from his lips.

That second sigh sounds much more frustrated. He must be annoyed that you’re this upset over him canceling, probably wondering why you can’t understand that this is his job. He can’t just say no and head out for the night, it’s not a regular nine-to-five.

As you open your mouth to apologize to him and deescalate any annoyance from him, his voice muffles in a whisper over the phone.

“I’m sorry, cielto. I gotta go. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Okay —” is all you can get out before the line cuts dead and the dial tone sounds. You hang the phone on the wall again, freely letting out your cries now that you’re alone again.

It wasn’t always like this. Javi has been an attentive partner since you met him; at first, the two of you casually hooked up, a boot call here or there. But eventually, you or he would stay the night which evolved into making breakfast together before work, and then became the two of you spending nights together simply hanging out with nothing else happening. Finally, after a few months of that, Javi insisted and asked, multiple times, to take you on a “real date, with dinner and drinks or the movies or whatever” (his words). You’d quickly agreed after his ramble, and since that night he asked you for a date, the two of you have been together for just under a year. It’d be closer to a year and a half if you count those months spent hooking up before.

If you had been asked two months ago if the two of you were happy, you would say yes without hesitation. These days, you weren’t so sure that Javi was entirely in it anymore.

He’s been distant, the phone calls and cancellations are major evidence that something is going on. But even when the two of you are together, he falls asleep without so much as a kiss for you, sits on the other end of the couch staring into space while you watch TV, has even jumped away from you touching his shoulder when you stood next to him in your kitchen.

The behavior is all too familiar. You can’t help but connect the dots as you did with your ex — the one you were with for a few years before Javi. He had cheated on you. Avoided you for months by canceling last minute or coming up with excuses about work or family stuff. Didn’t have sex with you, kiss you, or even hold your hand when you were together. 

Javi has given you absolutely no reason for you not to trust him. Sure, you’d heard all about his previous reputation from Steve and even from Javi himself, but as far as you know, ever since the two of you had been hooking up, he hasn’t been with anyone else. A devoted, doting boyfriend. Until he became distant.

Insecurity started to fester in the space he created between the two of you. Your past influences your brain to start mulling over if this distance is to make a break up with you easier, or if maybe he’s found someone else, maybe he’s already with that someone else.

The thought seems ludicrous to part of you, but that tiny sliver of doubt is the loudest tonight.

You haven’t talked to him about how these past few weeks have been strange and cold. The thought of saying something, of confronting him, and making it all worse terrifies you. If he isn’t doing anything wrong, if he’s just going through something, you definitely don’t want to give him a reason to break up with you or to think that you don’t trust him. 

The way that he whispered to you over the phone before hanging up sticks out in your mind, and it jumps to the conclusion that he must be around someone that he has to keep a secret from, to keep you a secret from.

It’s irrational, but in your current state, you can’t bring yourself out.

Instead, dinner is chucked in the trash, and the rest of your night is spent cycling between sad, broken tears, angry stewing, and insecure spiraling. Eventually, you exhaust yourself with the constant changes of emotions, falling asleep alone.

You eventually fall asleep and wake up to a hand gently shaking your shoulder. Javi stands over you next to your bed dressed in his short-sleeve button-up and jeans that you saw him get dressed in the previous morning.

“Morning, cielito.”

Half awake, the sight of him coming home in yesterday’s clothes makes tears well in your eyes, and his hand suddenly feels cold against your skin. The only reason you think of him standing there in a day-old outfit is that he must have spent the night with someone else.

His brow furrows with concern as he sees your faint tears falling, his hand moving up to pet your hair, the motion nearly comforting you to the point where you want to forget everything that’s happened and take what he’ll give you, even if there might be someone else.

“Hey, what’s wrong? What’s got you so sad, cariño? Did something happen last night?”

You sniffle and shake your head, swiping your tears away and sitting up in bed quickly.

“Nothing, it’s nothing. Must’ve been a bad dream.”

Javi sits next to you on the edge of the bed, hand moving to your thigh and circling his thumb on it through the faded quilt covering you.

“Cielito, please tell me. We both know that you don’t sleep as peacefully as you were when you have a nightmare. I want to help you, please tell me.”

You pull the covers further over you, covering your mouth and muffling out, “I don’t wanna…Just gonna make things worse…”

Javi looks at you with a faint smile and a chuckle, shaking his head. 

“As adorable as you look, mi amor, I can’t hear you like that,” he reaches over and gently pulls the quilt from your hands, laying it down again. He takes one of your hands that have fallen to your lap, intertwining your fingers, “Can you say that again for me? Please?”

His softness is making more tears well, your eyes trained on your hands as you let out a shaky exhale, voice meek. 

“Are you…Do you still wanna be with me?”

Your gaze flicks up to Javi’s face and his thumb stops brushing against your hand. Thick brows knit together, confusion and hurt mixing in his wide eyes.

He opens his mouth to speak once and then twice, finally holding your hand tighter and matching your volume.

“Of course, I do, cariño. Why would you think I don’t want that? Have I done something to make you feel like that?”

“It’s just — You’ve been so distant the past few weeks. Canceling dates, or telling me you can’t come over, or staying late and leaving early for work. I don’t want you to be upset, but it, um, it's made me feel like maybe you wanna break up or maybe…you’ve found someone else. It’s the same thing that my ex did, and I know you’re not him but my brain just can’t shut up about what it all makes me feel or-or think about.”

“Someone else? Mi amor, you are all I want. I love you. Solo seras tu por el resto de mi vida (It will only be you for the rest of my life),” he peels the covers back from your legs and stands, nudging you over to sit on the bed. His forearm muscles flex as he pulls you across his lap, arms circling around your waist and hand running fingertips up and down your spine methodically.

“There’s been shit after shit piling up at work and Murphy’s been on my ass to stay late and come in early to try to get one step ahead of these sicarios. And then yesterday we got a lead from one of our informants that turned out to be a dead end. I’ve just been stressed, I guess. And not handling it well. I'm sorry…It’s not an excuse for neglecting you, but believe me when I say, all I think about is you. There could never be anyone else ‘cause I can’t shut up about you — you can ask Steve if you don’t believe me, but if we aren’t talking about work, I make one mention of you and he rolls his eyes.”

The thought pulls a subtle smile to your face, hand reaching up to wipe your falling tears. Javi gets there before you, his featherlight touch swiping the moisture away from your cheeks.

“You’ve made me soft, cielito. Lost my reputation as big, bad Agent Peña. Now everyone around the office just says your name and I respond a lot quicker.”

That breaks you, making you laugh genuinely and shake your head. A bright grin on your face pulls your cheeks up and glistens the salty water in your eyes, “You’re definitely lying, but it’s a cute story so I will let it slide.”

“I swear to god, I’m not bluffing. Put me in a polygraph, I’ll pass with flying colors.”

“Oh no, I believe the part about you responding faster to my name and being soft. I don’t believe that anyone at work ever thought of you as ‘big, bad Agent Peña’.” 

Your smile slides into an impish grin, Javi’s mouth dropping open and eyes widening in offense. It doesn’t last for long, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth up as he listens to you laugh at his expense. Affection floods his eyes and he looks at you tenderly, leaning in to press a sweet but supple kiss to your lips. His wide smile is still evident on his face when he pulls away, his sincere tone resonating in your chest.

“I missed you, cielto. I miss you every damn day when I go to work and have to come home alone…” his eyes flash with an idea, a definitive request following, “Move in with me. Solves the problem of you needing a new place and I can come home to my beautiful girlfriend every night. What do you say, mi amor?”

“I say, you better be a good roommate.” 

Javier wiggles his eyebrows as he leans for a kiss, words coated in his signature charm, “I definitely will be. Gonna be the best you ever had, in more ways than one. Don’t think our neighbors are gonna like us, though. Voy a tenerte gritando mi nombre todas las noches (I’m going to have you screaming my name every night).”

The phrase takes a second to translate in your head, mouth falling open in a gasp and a playful smack hitting his shoulder.

“Don’t make the neighbors hate me!”

A smug grin crosses his face as he moves to lay you down on the bed, crawling over you between your spread legs.“I think you’ll be saying something much different after the first night you’re living with me, mi amor. Estarás rogando por más (You’ll be begging for more).”

Your eyes start to roll and Javi presses his lips to yours in a slow, passionate kiss. He lifts his head away from you, adoration in his eyes.

"Te amo, mi cielito. Seré tuyo para siempre si me tienes (I love you, my heaven. I'll be yours forever if you'll have me)."

tagging some peeps from my other javi fic!

taglist: @swiftispunk @pedrit0-pascalit0 @lil-stark @joelsversion @mrsvedder12 @starsandsaints07 @wild-fauxed @rubyshouse @notes-from-my-journal @mi-place @killervirgosworld @paytonispunk @jakecockley @hydrangaces @jupitercorgi @nic0lodean @creedslove @westeros-needs-me @ikigailereve @the-casual-cat @marysucks-blog @midnightswithdearkatytspb @luamarieta @kaletastrophes @nasanatmfers @storyarcscribe @asirenbyanyothername @frustratedpanda @dieterbravo @theelishad @pascalislove @bigbutchenergee @starkovli @scrambledslut @atinylittlepain @beskarandblasters @johnwatsn @thetriumphantpanda

[ageofevermore]

ENDLESSLY

SUMMARY — you’ll learn to like your coffee black, if it means forgetting the way her blood stained your hands.

AUTHORS NOTE — this is for @runawayswrite & @vancityfire13 prompt challenge, that is like four days overdue.

Everything was sticky. The checkered patterned floor, the marble table, the mahogany colored booth bench with deep rips in the stiff fabric. Everything reminded you of her.

It almost felt like blood between your fingers. The sticky residue brings you right back to that night on the battlefield with Wanda bleeding out in your arms. The single stream of crimson blood that dried a shade so similar to mahogany dripping from the side of her lips, the only color left on her ghostly white face. Her last words are a skipping record in your head, ‘I love you endlessly’. Turns out, endlessly was only a short couple of years.

“Hey,” A warm hand found yours across the table, startling you from your nightmare. Your endless nightmare. Always the same one. “You with me, Y/N?” Natasha asked kindly, worry pooling in her eyes and in the pull of her lips as she frowned over a paper menu. All she could do was watch you wither away before her, just like you had watched Wanda.

You nodded, swiping your sticky, shaky, sweaty palms over your thighs to rid them of the feeling of her blood caked into the soft indentations of your hands. Wanda loved tracing every groove in your skin, kissing every imperfection, every blemish and scar, loving on you at your complete rawest. You’d never be able to love every part of yourself as earnestly as she had. “Fine.”

Natasha’s eyes softened, her frown deepened, her heart clenched, but she didn’t press. You’d only shut down more if she pressed, and you were already a shell of yourself in her presence.

“Sorry about the wait, we’re busy today. Saturdays are crazy. Can I get you anything?” Your eyes settled on the coffee pot in her hands, and the world became silent around you. The feeling of hot blood escaped your consciousness, replaced with a feeling you’d give anything to have back.

“That’s your fifth packet.” Her accent was fading the longer she spent time in the city, attached to your side in fear of losing you like she had Pietro. In fear of losing herself in this new world. Her nose scrunched as she watched you tear open another, shaking the sugar packet until the last granular fell in. Your lips pulled into a grin, an expression of adoration in the soft blush on your cheeks.

“I like it sweet.” You shrugged bashfully, hiding behind a strand of hair that fell into your face. Wanda watched you fondly, following your slow strokes of the spoon combining the sugar packets and creamer with the coffee.

For a second, you think she might come back at you with a pickup line, you love how those infiltrate her comebacks anytime the pair of you squabble, but today, she must be feeling secure in the sanctuary the two of you have built from ruins. “That’s disgusting.”

Your lips drop open, shock swimming in your eyes, you freeze before a laugh bubbles up in your chest and falls from your lips like a symphony. Wanda laughs along with you, the songs of your joy blending together so perfectly, it was in that moment you couldn’t imagine another night without her.

With trembling hands, you picked up the cup of coffee, not a sugar packet or shot of creamer combined. Nothing but the coffee as itself. Nothing but bitter, almost watery, taste. If you couldn’t be back with her, if you couldn’t look across the table and watch her eyes crease in delight as you assembled a mountain of sugar packets, you didn’t want it. You’d learn to like it back. You’d learn to erase yourself from her.

[madstronaut]

PSA: i am an absolute sucker for meet-cutes

ya know what's funny? every time I have the passing thought wondering if I'll run out of fic I've bookmarked to (lovingly) rant about, my moots/cod writers never fail to deliver new bangers after bangers... at this rate my bookmark folder is bursting at the seams and threatening to explode into a big flaming glorious ball of confetti and words and emotions and tears (mine, my tears, those are all mine-)

I have also had the most exhausting past few weeks and seeing memes crop up about "becoming important at work is ruining my life" hit a little too real for me to laugh without crying a teeny bit but you know who i know got me? FANFIC WRITERS MY BELOVEDS THAT'S WHO 💖💖💖 (whom? fuck idk anymore how did I even get my job when I fuck up basic grammar lol)

I have been listening to Posty's new country song with Dolly Parton and it feels incredibly gaz-coded to me... I recently went karaoke-ing and let me tell you I would flirt hardcore by alternately winking constantly/making deep unblinking eyecontact into kyle's baby browns while singing this song anyway sorry totally sidetracked by daydreaming about making out with gaz and then wearing nothing but his hat while i ride his d- [rest of sentence drowned out by dolly parton's bridge]

ok fuck THE FIC WHERE WAS I BACK TO THE FIC

Reading: Firefighter!Kyle by @stellewriites

ok to start mister mistoffelees!!!!!!! what a name I swear cat owners give their pets the wildest names (I met someone who had two cats named porterhousesteak and shakeandbake - both names were pronounced like one word) (also on the off-chance charlotte if you're reading this, let's pretend we are two ships passing in the night and you can ignore my videogame military men thirstblog and i'll ignore the names you chose to bestow on your pets)

and even before stelly described him I KNEW HE WAS AN ORANGE CAT 😂

also I have not read or seen Cats the book/musical/movie prior to reading this fic but this made me want to so that I can flirt with stelleverse!kyle

“please misty, my arms are tired and my neighbours have probably already lost all respect for me,” you groaned. it turned into a huff when he turned away to clean his paws, ignoring you again. “you win! there, happy? you furry little orange devil, you fucking win!”

🤭🤭🤭 ok but let's be real we've all been there pleading with pettos and having full-on one-sided conversations with em

you pulled out your phone and skimmed the articles you’d pulled up advising you on how to get a stuck cat out of a tree.

*running to google* also is this not the most millenial/gen-z thing to do!!!! lmao the things I have googled....

“ah that looks like a job for our best man, don’ya agree, si? think this requires garrick’s expertise,” the man said again, smirking at the man sat next to him up front.

we stan a man who sees someone and goes "that's my mate's type" i feel like soap would be such a good wingman

“oi! i’d be happy to help the bonnie thing with their pussy, but ah thought you might appreciate stretching yer legs,” ‘tav huffed from the window.

irl men saying this to me: mace to the face first, questions later

fictional video game men saying this line to me: *practicing deep lunges so I can open my legs for them even wider*

“ahh ok,” kyle nodded. he tested the balance of the ladders against the tree. “musical or book?” my mum used to love t. s. eliot, so i know probably more than i should about it,” he joked, slowly reaching his hand out for misty to sniff at.

NERDY MAMA'S BOY THEATER LOVER CAT WHISPERER HIMBO KYLE MY BELOVED (seriously stelly just took all my fucking weaknesses and rolled them into firefighter!kyle)

“it’s what we’re here for,” kyle said easily, shrugging as he came to stand before you. “plus, it’s always easy when the callers are so pretty.” “hah! right, yeah he’s a cutie,” you said and wiggled your fingers at misty, letting him bat at them. kyle waited for you to look up before replying. “i meant you,” he said a little sheepishly.

"he said a little sheepishly" that cat better get back in that tree to make space cos I'd be taking a running leap into his arms after rizzing me up like that

“like, how? on the emergency number?” you hinted. “ah fuck,” he swore and patted at his pockets. you heard the scotsman laugh from the truck and hid your own teasing smile behind your hand.

SCCREEEAAAMMMING

I would be remiss not to include this cute little challengefic stelly wrote that I have daydreamed about multiple times after reading (I usually picture gaz or soap here when I read about college/uni!141)

the fic also reminds me of the large lectures I attended in college (I was a solid sit near the middle or 2/3 up the room but never allll the way in the back student) where I observed in no particular order:

several randos watching various LOTR movies on their laptop

watching Pirates of the Caribbean and Dragon Ball Z was also super popular

also anime porn! FUCKING WHY THO SIT AT THE VERY BACK IF YOU'RE GONNA DO THIS YOU FUCKING DEGENERATE I DID NOT NEED TO SEE THAT IN MY SOPHOMORE LINGUISTICS LECTURE

also re: chronic anime porn purveyor -> seeing a girl straight up go over and unplug his charger from the wall socket AND his laptop and just WALK AWAY WITH IT 😂🙌 (my queen I still think about you from time to time after all these years, I oft pray to match a thimbleful of your energy)

girl playing Pokemon Red on an emulator on her laptop (I was riveted and also went to search and download the same and got lost in the sauce burning through all the pokegames for a hot minute too...THANK YOU ARIA!!!!!!!!)

guy playing tetris on his comp at an INSANELY god-tier speed level; i'm positive he did it for an audience because i swear i saw people attempting to look for and sit behind him to observe him during classes to watch his ass play (noooo this wasn't me who said that also he was kinda cute in a 'you are very competent in this weirdly niche area and i find that kinda hot' way)

girl dropping $800+ on topshop website (am I dating myself mentioning topshop lol is it still around?!?!)

guy speedwriting a paper for another class and turning it in - all during a totally unrelated class, honestly was impressed

girl flawlessly applying liner, lipstick, and a glitter topper without spilling or getting the glitter everywhere (btw at a 9am lecture? slay sis)

anyway can you tell i went to a very large uni lol OK WHERE WAS I BACK TO FIC BACK TO FIC

you stared at the screen unblinkingly, thoroughly distracted from your course and the discussion around you until a hand holding a slip of paper appeared at your shoulder in your peripheral. you flicked your eyes up and found the professor busy facing the board and took the chance to swivel in your seat to look up at the one above yours and the handsome man that currently claimed it.

I can physically feel my pupils popping til they engulf my eyes as I read this - also I loved the premise of this challenge (cali my beloved making bangers as usual @the-californicationist) with people having to guess who the chara was! one of the verrrry first fics I read in cod fandom was an insert-blorbo-of-your-choice-here x reader that I looooooooooved; I find the fill-in-the-blank aspect verrrry titillating✨

“i could maybe think of some way you could thank me,” he acquiesced, smile turning sly. “better concentrate on the front of the class for now though.” he nodded forward.

can also physically feel my pupils turning to heart eyes at this line 😍UNFFFF YES YES LET'S HAPPILY BRAINSTORM THE MANY MANY M A N Y WAYS I COULD THINK OF THANKING YOU GOOD SIR

i met some of my best mates (and earned some wild stories to boot) at uni, as they say over on the other side of the pond, and all the fun cute chaotic little moments of serendipity sprang back up when I read stelly's works and made me feel incredibly nostalgic 🥰🥰🥰 going old school and pulling out my 2008 neutrogena lipgloss out of memory lane for my chef's kisses for yooouuuuu mwahmwahmwahmwah😙👌😙👌😙👌😙👌

[possum-quesadilla]

Chapter 11 of Time’s Arrow, “Wait for me, I’m comin’, Wait, I’m comin’ with you”, is here!! Yeehaw!!!

Extras below!!

- The lyrics for this chapter’s title are either from “Wait for Me” (live version) or “Wait for Me (Reprise)” (album version) from Hadestown, for obvious reasons. Pick your poison!

- “The air around her felt so cold. She was sure death had never been so cold before.” - Once again, my silly theme of warmth. Beetlejuice didn’t realize he was giving off warmth and love just as much as he was receiving it.

- “Percy lay a short distance away, one paw outstretched to gently touch Lydia’s knee.” - Based on a weird, silly thing my own cat does.

- “None of them really seemed to mind as the cat strolled over to the rug, his nose loudly whistling as he sniffed at the air.” - Percy has a deviated septum that makes him snort when he’s excited, and whistle when he breathes through his nose! It doesn’t bother him too much. Partially based on my own cats.

- “ Lydia’s gentle whimpering sobs quieted when he raised his head and let out a loud, strange meow. (That kitten really did have one of the strangest voices she’d ever heard from a cat. Perhaps Beetlejuice had some sort of influence on him?) “… what is it?” She whispered, voice hoarse from crying.” - He’s got one of those weird, long, creaky meows. He did take after Beetlejuice. Also, familiar communication! He’s alerting her to Cyrus’ fur.

- “What’s up, Soos-” - She calls him ‘Soos’ as a nickname. It is one of those fun, weird pet nicknames that evolves over time. Also a reference to “Gravity Falls”.

- “She froze, letting out a loud gasp when her hand made contact with the carpet in front of Percy.” - She can use things like strands of fur to scry.

- “It felt like mere moments, it felt like it stretched out for weeks.” - Another instance of a character feeling how Beej often feels and being unsettled.

- “Deb could not guide them. “… I’m sorry, little ghosts. I care for you all and for Goose, but..” something dark clouded her eyes as she averted her usually bright eyes away from them. “… I can’t help you any more than preparing you. I can’t risk losing the precious, peaceful, fragile existence I carved out for Bela and I.” ” - The last sentence is a reference to “Good Omens”! Also, yeah, Cyrus is very powerful in the Netherworld and could ruin Deb and Bela’s unlives.

- “She nearly wretched as a pungent odor hit her open mouth, revolting and… familiar.” - Beej used to reek of the Netherworld.

- The various dead people - I made them up! Not based on any real people. They were fun to think up.

- “ “You two again?” She groaned, shaking her head. “What part of ‘pick a number and wait your turn’ do you people not understand? You cannot skip the line!” ” - This is a joke at the fact that they met in the movie, but not the musical. This version of Adam and Barbara have not, in fact, met Miss Argentina.

- Huge shoutout to @raineisinkless for her help with Miss Argentina’s dialogue <3

- Miss Argentina and Beetlejuice - Time works weird in the Netherworld. Beej was cursed and cast out long before she died, but since time there is nonlinear, he was in the Netherworld for when she first died and started working there. He was very nice to her.

- “She turned to the pale woman sat next to her, dressed in a beautiful blue figure skating gown stained red with the blood that constantly flowed from the gaping wound in her neck. “Patrice, take over for me. I’m taking my lunch for the year.” ” - Yes, she only gets one break per year. And Patrice is a reference to Miss Argentina’s original actor, Patrice Martinez!

- “Is she living it up on top?” - This is a reference to the Hadestown song, “Livin’ it Up on Top”.

- “The room they stepped into was pitch black. Not even the dim lighting from the hallway could permeate it’s darkness.” - It’s kept dark because demons have sensitive eyes. And they can see in total darkness! Well, most of them.

- “They growled again, the little supply closet suddenly feeling much hotter. “Shut up.” ” - They got very embarrassed at the implication that they care about Beetlejuice.

- “The other demons would swallow your souls whole if they knew you were here.” - Partial joke reference to “Evil Dead”.

- “I know it’s not like how we talked about, but-” - Surprise! Well, maybe not to some of you. They’ve been discussing becoming demons for a while now!

- “She heard their bones creaking as they did.” - They got bad joints.

- “Something brushed up against Barbara’s arm. “All you two have to do is shake my hand.” ” - Larry was being nice and showing Barbara where their hand is here.

- “Your souls need time to create and bond with your new bodies.” - Demons have their bodies and souls combined, which is why they don’t pass on to an afterlife! Their soul dies with their body.

- “Barbara gasped as a warmth flooded through her, hot and exhilarating in her veins.” - Hellfire!

- Altair and Vega - Their demonic names! Yes they have meanings behind them. No I will not elaborate currently. I will in a different post if I remember (or if someone asks me/reminds me)

- “Barbara yelped as it seemed fabric was passed over her head.” - Larry straight up tucked them under their coat here.

- “There were no stars or moon above to light their surroundings, just the dim glow of humming pink fluorescent lights somewhere just outside the alley.” - There are no stars in the sky because they’re all wandering the streets.

- “It was out of the kindness of my Hearth that I brought you two here.” - hehe, yeah, they say ‘Hearth’ instead of ‘heart’. As a joke on the fire in their chests.

- “He looked down at himself, glasses briefly slipping down his nose.” - A little bit of foreshadowing to his ears changing.

“‘Pollux’, in bright yellow. It seemed like half the sign had burnt out, and Barbara could just barely make out that it used to read ‘and Castor’.” - They were besties that made Deals and ran their Covens together. Then Castor died. Whomp whomp.

- “Barbara had to shield her eyes. Had neon lights always bothered her eyes that much? Maybe being stuck inside for so long had made them sensitive.” - Her eyes are getting more sensitive to light as she changes!

- “Adam was covering his ear with his free hand, gritting his teeth and softly complaining about how loud the lights were.” - Similarly, Adam is getting more sensitive to sound.

- “Thick, blue smoke, pungent and noxious. It smelled… herby, but Barbara could not quite place her finger on which herb it was.” - The blue smoke Cyrus and other demons smoke is actually something of his own creation! It’s how he gained so much power among demons. Perhaps I will elaborate in a Cyrus lore post since this is the last we’ll see of him in this fic! She knows her herbs, but not this herb.

- “It was dim, lit only by the sign outside, but somehow still Barbara could make out nearly everything.” - Again, demon changes! She can see in the dark now.

- “A particularly short demon manned the bar, ignoring one demon quite literally barking at them as they wiped a glass clean.” - Author demon sona cameo! I didn’t halt to describe them so I didn’t break the flow of the scene.

- “(Although, he wasn’t wearing blue like they’d said he was. He was instead wearing black wool cloak.)” - Uh oh. Where have we seen black wool before?

- “ “Where is he?” Adam repeated, gripping his wife’s hand tighter.” - A reference to the live version of “Wait for Me” from Hadestown.

- “You won’t find him. You could look for the rest of your un-lifetimes and you’d never find even a hint of him.” - A reference to the song “Home”, how Lydia mentions she could search the afterlife for an eternity and never see her mom.

- “Barbara wanted to punch that smug look off his face.” - Foreshadowing.

- “It was then that Barbara realized he was missing three fingers on the hand not holding the cigarette.” - HE FUCKIN’ GOT HIM GOOD!!

- “Barbara just about growled, the words coming out with a throaty noise.” - She can actually growl now!

- “The demon only paused when Adam involuntarily let out a strange little growl of his own. Cyrus slowly looked between the two of them, something glinting in his eyes. His smile wavered for a few moments. (Barbara thought perhaps she recognized… fear?)” - He is afraid of the power they both now wield. Perhaps this will be elaborated on later? Also Adam can growl now too hehe

- “His smile widened as his eyes flicked over to the Maitlands. “It was only made tolerable by the feeling of his intestines snaking between my claws.” ” - He said this to rile them up. Also, this has been previously mentioned by Beetlejuice as something Cyrus did! Just not directly.

- “Ah. Shit. Lydia didn’t mention how tall he was. That’ll make it much harder to reach him.” - Foreshadowing!!

- Adam recognizes the tale they’re recreating, hence his apprehension at first; Orpheus and Eurydice. Just with added stakes, since all three of them have to not check, not just Adam and Barbara.

- “She swore she heard the bartender whisper, “good luck”.” - :)

- “Yeah, well, die mad about it,” - A joking reference to a scene in “The Owl House” I accidentally mirrored here.

- “ “S-seven,” Barbara stammered, picking the first one that came to her mind.” - thank you @ten-chocolate-sundaes :) I wonder what he’ll do with this number

- “It seemed like days passed.” - because they did! Thirteen days to be exact.

- They’re deers!! Surprise!! All of the deer and star foreshadowing for Adam and Barbara is finally paying off!!!

[turquoisecobalt]

Happy Sabrina Carpenter Short n' Sweet release day! (Note: I live in Australia)

having just finished my first listen (doing second listen as i type this), the songs i added to my likes are Sharpest Tool, Bed Chem, and Lie To Girls! Theyre just the ones I vibed with most musically/lyrically which i'll talk about more in a sec.

wrote a little about each song under the cut <3

Taste made my jaw drop, damn girl youre gonna be tastin me! love it! totally a bop and is probably gonna join my favs after more listens. Love it as the opener.

(love Please Please Please, "beg you dont embarrass me motherfucker" tickles my brain so good)

Good Graces is just an absolute mood, same kinda message as Please Please Please, just be decent and we're chill lmaoo

Sharpest Tool I LOVE how shes uses the same word or sound at the end of a line and then the start of the next (took a left / left me, second guess / guess i'll, wondering if / if that, inbetween the lines / lyin to yourself) it's so satisfying to me, also that "we were going right then you took a left" just hits so good for some reason! overall yes, a definite fav

Coincidence is a bop, just misses out on being a fav cause the topic doesn't resonate with me personally! luckily haven't had this kinda experience, but LOVE the "your car drove itself to her thighs" took me so off guard cause i was expecting bed.

Bed Chem? oh hell yeah. come ride- uh,,,, comradery uhuh. horny bop. love Love LOVE

(Mountain Dew It For Ya :) )

Dumb & Poetic- oh yes go off Sabrina so many good lines in this one "just cause you act like one, dont make you a man" simple and so so true (+"just cause you leave like one" HAH) but "youre so empathetic, you'd make a good wife" is soo funny i love her. also love the slower vibes.

Slim Pickins is too real, why do we settle like this. so entertained by her flipping it to moaning and bitching. instead of bitchin and moanin. makes it stand out without feeling too off, i like it.

Juno is super cute but i'm gonna need people to write those genius annotations so i can really Get It (it's referencing that movie right? I havent seen it). fav line is "i showed my friends and we high-fived, sorry if you feel objectified" also its horny so A+

ok ok ok now LIE TO GIRLS! lyrics hit right out of the gate, and they keep hittin "you dont have to lie to girls, if they like you THEYLL JUST LIE TO THEMSELVES" sabrina stop im sobbing. absolute fav of the album. the buildup at the end. i am in love.

im sorry i couldnt really focus on Don't Smile cause Lie To Girls ruined me uhhhhh. yeah its a good song. im gonna go put Lie To Girls on repeat now

OKAY okay we're done, Mothica's new album also came out but I've gotta sleep that's a tomorrow experience.