#sorry i think what they have should be talked about more

[gyaruhana]

I am in desperate need for more 001 / the front man fics TwT

Could the plot be : when 456 and others try to take over the controls room (last ep), 001 protects her from the guards ( or told the guards over the radio to not attack the player) thank you!

Hwang In-ho/Front Man - Favorites

Synopsis: In-ho decides you don't deserve to die so he makes sure you survive.

A/N: sorry if this is rushed i am trying to get so many other fics done now too !!

Warnings: none

Perhaps this whole mission was a really stupid idea. The sounds of gunshots rang through your ears as you listened to the yells of everyone else who had made the decision to help. You were starting to regret your own decision of taking a gun and choosing to help just because Young-il was going. You’d probably die here honestly. There just seemed to be a never-ending plethora of those guards running through and shooting at you and you couldn’t help but start to panic. 

Fuck, maybe you should just turn around and pretend like you were never a part of this poor attempt at a takeover. You weren't ready to die. Not today, not tomorrow, not even a decade from now. You just had to hold the fort down a little longer though. Just until Gi-hun and Jung-bae make it to the control room. You could wait that out. It wouldn’t take that long. At least, you kept telling yourself that. That everything was okay when it really wasn’t.

You took a deep breath before raising your gun and shooting at some of the guards from behind the pillar. Unfortunately for you, you quickly ran out of ammo making you pull back with a quiet curse. You shove your hands into your pockets to see if you had any more only to realize you’re out of ammo now. “Shit! I’m out,” you say as you look at the others and put your gun down next to you. 

“I’m almost out too,” Hyun-Ju spoke and the others seemed to have a nervous look on their faces - a clear sign they were quickly running out of ammo too. You leaned your head back as you closed your eyes and tried to breathe. All you could think about now was how you were definitely going to die here. You shouldn’t have tried to play hero. You should’ve stayed out of this so you could leave here in one piece and with a fuck ton of won. You were too lost in your fear to hear what the others were saying now and also too panicked to notice Young-il’s eyes on you.

He’d hate to admit it but seeing you like that made him feel guilty. He was annoyed at himself for lowering his guard so much and catching feelings for you when he really shouldn’t have. It was too complicated to fall for you when you were just a player, totally unaware that he was going to betray you all before Gi-hun even got close to the control room. If life was perfect, he would’ve taken you with him but he knew you’d never forgive him if you knew who he really was. 

It was then when he looked at the fear on your face did he decide you were not going to die here. Not in these twisted games he ran. You didn’t deserve death and, admittedly, he cared about you too much now to let you die. His focus on you was broken when Jung-bae started talking through the radio announcing that they believed they were right beneath the control room but needed more ammo and backup if they were going to make it.

“Did you hear that? They need backup!” he yells out as he looks to the others. “Three of us will go, the others will stay! Join us when you get the magazines!” he continued to yell through the loud echo of the bullets. Two of the men quickly offered to go as backup for Gi-hun and Jung-bae prompting Young-il to also go. Just as he was about to get up and head to the control room, your voice rang out.

“Wait! Are you sure?” you asked as you looked at Young-il with worry. Although Gwi-nam and Jung-bae needed some help and ammo, you didn’t want Young-il to be in danger. You weren’t sure what you would do if he died considering he’d been such a good friend to you. You’d never be able to get over his death - you knew that much. 

In response to your worry for him, he gave you a small smile as he looked at you before nodding his head. “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry,” he says reassuringly. Seeing you look at him like that made his heart clench with both adoration and guilt. To know you worried for him almost made him rethink if he should be doing this or not. Of course, he quickly threw that thought away and turned around, heading to the direction Gi-hun and Jung-bae had gone. All you could do was watch him disappear through the door with a heavy heart as you pray this would work and he’d return unharmed.

Through the chaos of the shooting and the yelling, all you could think about was him. Even as everything went completely to shit and you all ran out of ammo after Dae-ho never came back and Hyun-ju left to go find him, you still kept thinking about him and if he was okay. Perhaps the threat of death being oh so real now was making you think about everything you had cherished in life - including the few days you got to spend with Young-il and how those days were arguably the best of your life.

Unbeknownst to you, you weren’t going to die here. Not as long as he was in control of these games. 

“Don’t kill Player 076,” he spoke through a radio to the guards after promptly shooting the guys that came with him and faking his death to Gi-hun. He shouldn’t be letting you live. He shouldn’t care about you at all but he did. He cared about you so much and he wished he could tell you the truth but he couldn’t. He’d just have to watch from afar and pull every string possible so you would live. He let out a sigh at the thought of you before quickly walking off to prepare himself to confront Gi-hun as who he really was - The Front Man.

You watched as your friends had no choice but to surrender until inevitably getting shot and killed. You flinched at the sound of the gunshots as you raised your hands in surrender and backed up. Were you crying? Yes. You were. Any sane person would be crying right about now after watching their friends die and realising they’re next to die. “Please. Please don’t kill me,” you begged as you closed your eyes and prepared for the worst. 

Except the worst never came. 

No. You were suddenly grabbed instead and pushed along as they walked. You weren’t sure what was happening. They had just ruthlessly shot your friends but they were leaving you to live? For what? So you could tell everyone what happened and teach a lesson to everyone not to try something like that again? You didn’t understand why you were spared when you really shouldn’t have been. You were just as guilty as the rest. You should have been shot too.

If only you knew the truth.

[wtfaniii]

I can do it alone, but he can also save me

Fem reader x Hwang In-ho / Fem reader x Hwang Jun-ho

Part 1 Part 2

●Summary: Jun-ho's girlfriend was a decorated policegirl, strong and brave, she, along with Gi-hun were taken to the games to stop them, however, there was a setback in between

●Note: Thank you for welcoming me so well on this platform! I'm still learning how to use it, sorry, Wattpad is my thing LOL But I'm understanding it more now

●Warning: Maybe some drama? Some violence and discreet flirting

The reader doesn't know who is In-ho, Jun-ho refused to talk about his past with her, so she is engrossed in the true identity of this handsome man.

Well, the plan hadn't worked out the way they wanted.

They had taken away their trackers and any object, even the smallest, that they could use to defend themselves.

—Now what do we do... —Gi-hun muttered more to himself but audible to the girl in front him.

—I think the best thing to do now would be not to die —she answered seriously, the vows had been made and unfortunately, despite Gi-hun's attempts to persuade the players to withdraw, staying had been the final decision —For now we must eat if we want to win the next game —She added holding out in front of him the food the guards were giving them, but he refused to take it, he looked so lost in his own mind that she had no choice but to sigh and sit down next to him.

—Come on, open your mouth, belly full and heart happy —Jung-bae, Gi-hun's friend sitting on his right side, spoke while holding a spoon with the egg in front of his face.

—Last time I was here, many innocent people died —Gi-hun said, looking at his friend seriously. He wanted to convince him that everything he said was true and that they should leave there as soon as possible.

—Help us then.

There was a third voice that caught the girl's attention, it was number 001, the one who had the decisive vote and preferred to stay, whoever had the blue circle was a suicidal person from her perspective.

The rest of the players surrounded them waiting for some advice or positive words from the previous winner.

The girl just listened attentively to each of them, but the most interested was 001. He asked him more concise questions and spoke confidently, as if these games were not very different from the ones they played at recess when they were little.

Something that seemed curious to her.

He felt her gaze so turned it towards her so he could look the police in the eye.

Of course he had investigated her, from the moment she searched for her boyfriend on land and sea, he wouldn't say it out loud but his brother was lucky because if it hadn't been for her him would be dead under water.

Her eyes looked at him with caution and analysis, like a cat looking at a dog with distrust but ready to scratch if the situation arose.

He found it interesting.

After the rest of the players left, 001 stayed with them to continue talking until the conversation increased in tension, Gi-hun complained to him, if he hadn't voted for the circle they would have left there.

—Fine, let's stop this conversation now, there's no point in blaming each other —Jung-bae said to avoid any upcoming fight.

—That's right, now what we have to do is be prepared for the next game —She said —We have a bit of an advantage —added, looking at Gi-hun.

—I would like to join too —said number 388 jumping out of his bed.

He introduced himself as Dae-ho and the conversation changed from the winning player to the navy and the fact that both he and Jung-bae had been members.

It seemed like they would get along well and be a good team, however, the atmosphere became tense again when the purple-haired boy with the number 230 threw player 333 to the ground, being followed by 124, who kicked him in the face.

—¿Shouldn't we tell them to stop? — Jung-bae asked.

—Yes...

Seeing that neither of the two men was going to intervene, the girl stood up and walked towards them.

—That's enough, two against one isn't fair.

—You better stay out of this —Thanos pointed at her angrily, but after looking at her closely, he let out a laugh and clapped his hands, which echoed throughout the room and caught everyone's attention —I know you, you... policegirl, you arrested me a month ago.

Now she remembered it too, of course, that snobby rapper who tried to bribe her after she caught him buying and transporting drugs but she decided to ignore him and walked to 333 to shake his hand. —Get up

Before he could accept her kind gesture, Thanos pushed her back failing to knock down.

—This is not your playground, policegirl, I can do whatever the fuck I want here.

She remained silent, still with head held high, she was not afraid of him at all, she could easily defeat him but did not have time to do or say anything when 001 intervened.

—That's no way to talk to a lady.

She could defend herself, she didn't need any man to speak for her, however, that sentence seemed quite chivalrous, Jun-ho also intervened for her from time to time and that was a gesture that inevitably made her smile.

A smile that In-ho noticed.

—Is she your girlfriend? Or do you just fuck her? —As soon as he finished the word, In-ho already had him firmly held by the hair.

124 ran towards them with the intention of helping the purple-haired boy but in the blink of an eye he was already on the ground, the girl had knocked down with a kick.

With just three blows, In-ho subdued Thanos and pinned to the ground.

She silently analyzed him again, those movements were too precise to be from someone without experience, he could have been part of the police or even the navy.

They were congratulated with applause when the 230 began to gasp for air and forgiveness. As returned to their place, they both formally introduced themselves by giving respective names, a sign of trust.

Once again In-ho confirmed what thought, she was a respectable and valuable woman, one he would like to challenge more than should have for having gotten into these games.

N/A: I wanted to make a fic with a theme like that HAHA

[incorrectclassicbookquotes]

Actually, a lot of homeless people do have undiagnosed mental illnesses, and instead of helping these people who are struggling, we cast them aside or throw them in jail. Having a mental illness isn't a bad thing, and I would like to add that being a drug addict is also a mental illness. It quite literally affects the makeup of your brain and causes your brain to think it needs the substance to survive. So why is Elon Musk talking about having a mental illness and being a drug addict like that means that we shouldn't help the homeless. In fact, I think it just means we should help the homeless more.

I watched a documentary about homelessness for my class in college, and a lot of people who are homeless are homeless because they either have an undiagnosed mental illness or they were diagnosed but can't afford their medication. All of this is the problem of the system, not the homeless people themselves.

Finally, it's not a lie to say people are homeless since people without places to live are quite literally homeless. That is the exact definition of the word homeless.

Sorry for the rant on this, but it just makes me so angry when people think that because someone has a mental illness or is a drug addict, that means they shouldn't be given help. What do they deserve to be homeless just because the system has failed them?

[nothorses]

I'm starting to feel like.. i should stop looking to transfems for allyship. the way so many of them talk about and treat transmascs... i'm probably better off on my own than trying to form any kind of united front or community or whatever with them. the number of times i've seen transfems putting transmascs down lately is just.. it's ridiculous..

Trans people have been eating each other alive for a long time, and it's gonna keep happening, unfortunately. On the bright side, not everyone's like that! And lots of transmascs (and other trans folks) suck just as bad as the transfems letting you down.

The thing about it is that if you want a better trans community, you have to help make it. If you want solidarity, you have to start by offering yours. If you want the river to be clean, you need to go pick the litter out of it. I know it's hard and unpleasant a lot of the time, and it's scary because you might get hurt, but you still have to try. Being scared or tired or even hurt doesn't get you out of trying.

There are a lot of people already trying together, and a lot of them are transfem. Seek them out in every way you can. (I often reblog from them, if you need a place to start, and I think I've put some lists under my #recs tag over the years)

And don't let the seperationism get you. I'm so serious right now, we cannot under any circumstances afford to entertain seperationist ideas or feelings. Start reckoning with it if you haven't yet, and don't let yourself stop reckoning with it.

You need to remember that even the ones who are wrong about you are still more right about themselves than you could ever be, and you need to listen to what they're saying about themselves anyway. If you start tuning them all out because of what they're getting wrong about you, you will lose a massive part of the story, and your picture will always be incomplete. We can't make things better for trans people if our picture of transphobia and trans experiences is incomplete.

I'm sorry you've been hurt. You deserve better. I hope you're able to connect with folks who make it easier soon.

[dorabellingham]

Bed breaker

warning: there is a part where if your native language is not english, you can substitute :)

characters: jude x reader

summary: when you decide to do certain things and the bed ends up breaking

may contain spelling and translation errors!

You were relaxing on the couch, wearing a light and comfortable dress, still savoring the unforgettable moments of the day. The apartment was silent, except for the sound of your favorite playlist playing softly in the background. It was already night when you heard the front door open.

—Babe?

Jude called, entering the apartment with his hair still damp from the shower in the locker room after training. He was dressed casually, in a tight black shirt and sweatpants.

You stood up with a smile, going to greet him.

—Here!

Jude wrapped you in a tight hug, burying his face in your neck.

—How was the rest of the day? Did you have fun?

—It was perfect. —You answered, feeling his comforting warmth. —And your training?

—Tiring, but nothing I can’t get over. —He pulled you closer, running his hands around your waist, and murmured: —Now all I can think about is how I want to end the day.

You laughed, but you could hear the tone in his voice.

—Oh, yeah? And what would that be like, honey?

He tilted his head, looking into your eyes with a mischievous glint.

—I think you already know.

Before you could answer, Jude picked you up, ignoring the shy protests you whispered.

—Jude!

You exclaimed, laughing as he carried you towards the bedroom.

He gently placed you on the bed and climbed in right after, pulling you towards him. The atmosphere quickly changed from playful to intense, with the closeness of you and his slow, determined touches.

You always loved the way he made you feel —special, wanted, like you were the only person in the world that mattered. And in that moment, you knew he was completely focused on you.

Things heated up quickly, the two of you completely forgetting about the world around you. But then, as the rhythm grew more intense, a loud crack echoed through the room, followed by the sound of wood breaking.

You and Jude froze, exchanging confused looks. And then... the bed gave way completely, the mattress sinking to one side as the frame broke.

You let out a yelp of surprise and then began to laugh uncontrollably. Bellingham, who was half on top of you and half trying to balance himself, let out a deep laugh.

—Are you okay, Y/n?

He asked between laughs.

—I am! But the bed clearly isn’t!

You replied, wiping away tears from your laughter.

—That was a sign that we’re too intense.

Jude joked, sitting on the crooked mattress.

You shook your head, still laughing.

—I knew this bed was flimsy, but you took it to another level, babe!

While you tried to compose yourselves, you started talking without thinking, still lost in the fun of the moment.

—It's completely ridiculous... I don't know how this happened

Jude stopped laughing and looked at you with a mixture of surprise and delight.

—What did you just say?

You blinked, realizing what you had said.

—Oh, sorry, it was automatic.

—No, no, keep going. —He asked, still smiling. —I love it when you talk like that. It's been years since I've heard your accent, sweetie.

You blushed, but decided to continue.

—I don't even know what to say. Maybe you should buy a sturdier bed?

Jude laughed out loud.

—I'm sure I'm going to have to buy one now. But you talking like that… I almost don't want you to stop.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide your smile.

—You're really stupid, Jude.

—And I have no idea what that means, but it sounds cute.

He replied, leaning in to kiss you.

After a few minutes of joking and talking, you decided to improvise. Jude pulled the mattress to the floor and adjusted the pillows.

—This will have to do for now. And tomorrow, we'll buy a bed that can withstand our adventures.

You settled down next to him, still laughing lightly.

—I can't believe the bed broke today.

—I'd say it was a memorable way to end the day.

Jude replied, hugging you.

As the rain gently tapped on the window and tiredness finally caught up with you, you realized that, despite the setbacks, you wouldn't trade that moment for anything. You laughed until you fell asleep, promising that the next one would be even more unforgettable—with a new and much more resistant bed.

[romantic-misty]

about this kind of posts... I finally have to say smth because I'm annoyed both ways:

(sorry OP, I don't wanna offend you - I wanna offend some sort of ppl)

you shouldn't tell people your (actually human's) basic needs, if you need to beg for bare minimum it's not your fault they don't show effort nor even ask anything because it doesn't cross their mind to do simplest things somehow, they're just egoistic non caring assholes and you repeating yourself won't help much

some ppl can't truly guess some stuff which means they also can not question you on the matter they have no idea about so sure! speak your mind - tell 'em what you like and hopefully they will understand and remember - nobody is a telepath and you should inform others about your thoughts from time to time instead of forcing them to always jump around you or else "they don't give a fuck about you" or smth as it's probably untrue

just because EVERYONE doesn't mean you also have to be like this - if someone is manipulating/forcing you to do things you don't wanna because it's "normal" - believe me, it's not and even if - you have a right to be "weird" so different

not everyone has to say YES forever to something, people have moods and change their mind, remember to explain or at least tell someone you aren't in the mood or changed your mind but also don't forget asking each other if someone is into smth at the current moment unless otherwise specified like "you always can hug me unless I tell you to stop" and such, mistakes and accidental crossing boundaries happen but most important thing are good intention and a lot of discussing, don't break someone's trust constantly proving it wasn't a one time thing

if you weren't assertive enough and someone took advantage of you - don't blame yourself for not saying NO (especially if they were constantly making you feel unsafe to actually stop them or brainwashed you into thinking you want this etc.) - they should check if you're fine with smth and not use the fact you froze and was unsure or didn't have time to set certain boundaries, topis should also continue after certain actions and you can go back to it anytime! no matter what others say - it's never too much for the right person <3

you doing something you hate or what even traumatises you to meet someone's needs because it's compromise... no, it's not - if you're not enough for someone doesn't mean smth is wrong with you - it's probably not a match and that is ok! you will be loved elsewhere by being yourself, if someone cares more about their needs than hurting you with them then they're not a good person (yes, it's mostly about sexual needs) - and no, cheating isn't a proof you didn't give them enough, they can always leave but they're cowards and want to have both :)

if you sh or have depression - don't assume no one gives a shit about you just because they don't question you when you say "I'm fine" - harsh truth - even tho I totally understand why you say that phrase still nobody has to do anything besides accepting it - they might feel like you don't wanna talk about it as it's either personal or you don't trust them enough and maybe just prefer to take your mind out of this as topic is triggering so they won't risk making you feel even worse, say the truth or tell them why you don't wanna talk about certain things because lying to people might make them truly believe you, they have their own issues too they can be occupied with, they can be simply tired and even feel hurt that you don't want to open up to them or show their respect in this way and let you have space - you don't know what's in their mind so if you assume smth about them then think how they feel when you decide to hide the truth from them - as I said, you still have reasons and maybe right to but it doesn't make them immediately evil for not doing more/what you want without you actually TELLING them, I know it's hard and scary and some don't even deserve to know but there are those who truly love you and will understand and will help/support you - you're not a burden! I am aware you don't wanna worry anyone but you can as it's part of being a friend/partner/family and if someone acts like an ass towards you by calling you an attention seeker - they are the problem, not you

silent treatment is manipulation and if you try to show you being offended by that instead of trying to talk things through first you are not good, sorry not sorry

balance is everything but ppl don't wanna meet half way EVER so...

your needs motherfucker do you speak them

[azzibuckets]

sweet [part three]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count: 2k

masterlist

Paige has only ever fallen in love once.

She knows that it’s wrong, everything against her moral code, to have a girl in her bed while thinking of another one entirely. But in the middle of the night, when Ella is fast asleep and Paige shifts away to her side of the bed, her thoughts can’t help but wander to soft brown eyes and long tan legs. When Ella chooses a sweater from her closet to throw on, she can’t help but think of how Azzi wore it better.

But these are just remnants of feelings, Paige reminds herself. She’d gotten over Azzi long ago, when she’d realized there was no chance her best friend could ever reciprocate the same feelings. Azzi was always the first one to slip out after sex, talking about having to study or do something important. More often than not, Paige woke up to an empty bed. Azzi was the one who always changed the subject whenever Paige brought up their situationship, clearly not wanting to take things further. Azzi was the one who had met Ella enthusiastically, patting Paige on the back.

In other words, Azzi Fudd was very much not in love with Paige Bueckers.

So Paige knows that it’s a good thing that Azzi seems to be distancing herself, that it would probably help snap whatever was going on them completely in half. A clean break from a universe where she’s not completely and utterly in love with the one person she can’t have. But Paige also knows that she’s going absolutely batshit crazy without her, which is how she finds herself outside of Azzi’s apartment in the middle of the night for the second time in two weeks.

As soon as the doors opens, Paige blurts out, “Did she say something to you?”

Azzi stares bleary eyed and dazed at her. Paige almost blushes at how cute Azzi looks in her little pajama shorts, the cloth riding up to show the smoothness of her thighs. Blushes. She needs to get ahold of herself.

“What?” Azzi’s sure she’s half hallucinating.

“If she said some shit to you, you can tell me. You know I don’t fuck with anyone who doesn’t fuck with you.”

“No, Paige.” Azzi rubs her temples. It’s always three steps forward and four steps back with them.

“Then what’s the problem?” Paige says, frustrated. “You‘ve barely been responding to any of my texts and you keep cancelling our plans.”

“The problem is that you’re willing to break up with your girlfriend for me!”

Paige’s expression turns sour. “That’s not what I said. I’m saying that you’re my best friend. And I care about what you think.”

“We’re not normal best friends, and you know it,” Azzi accuses. “Ella doesn’t deserve this. I know what it feels like, constantly worrying about another girl. It’s not fair of you to treat her like that.”

“You’re calling me a bad girlfriend?” Paige scoffs and looks away, a dirty taste in her mouth. “You don’t exactly have expertise in this area.”

Azzi’s lips tremble. “I can’t do this anymore, Paige.”

“Wait.” Paige reaches for her, flinching when Azzi pulls away. “I’m sorry, Az. I didn’t mean that.”

“I think we should-” Azzi exhales, gathering her thoughts. “We should take some space.”

“Space?” Paige wrinkles her nose. “We’re not even dating and you’re fucking breaking up with me?”

“It’s not like anything will change from the last few weeks.” Azzi folds her arms, looking like she’d rather be anywhere than here. “We barely even talk anymore and when we do, we’re fighting. This isn’t healthy. And - and Ella is good for you. She’s safe.”

“I don’t want space,” Paige says. “I can’t do space.” Her voice cracks, and Azzi only realizes now how bloodshot her eyes are, the bags underneath dark and pronounced. “Not from you.”

Azzi wipes her cheek with her sleeve. “I’m sorry.” She opens her mouth to say something, then cuts herself off by looking away, and Paige is well versed in everything Azzi - her body language, her habits, her tells - enough to know that the younger girl is hiding something from her.

“Say it.”

“Paige, stop.”

“Tell me!”

Azzi bites her bottom lip, worrying the skin with her teeth. “I was just gonna say…” she hesitates. “I was just gonna say that I’m seeing someone else too. So space would be good. For both of us. For me.”

“You’re seeing someone else?”

Azzi ducks her head. “It’s not any of your business, but yeah.”

“Who?”

“It’s really new. We’re not even dating yet.”

Paige’s heart drops. “Is it a girl?”

“Yeah.” Paige’s heart plummets all the way to the floor. A guy, maybe she could handle. A girl? There’s something so much more intimate about being with a woman, and she doesn’t know if she can handle even just thinking about Azzi lying in bed with another girl, touching another girl, loving another girl.

“Can I meet her?”

“I’m introducing her to the team next week. You can come if you want.”

Paige nods to herself, still trying to comprehend the fact that Azzi is with a woman - a woman that’s not her.

“I’m sorry.” Azzi repeats quietly. Then she turns her back, heading back to her room. “Lock the door on your way out.”

“Azzi.” It’s a last plea, a cry for help.

The younger girl halts, but she doesn’t turn around.

“We’re gonna be okay, right?” Paige’s voice is trembling.

“Of course we are.” But Azzi doesn’t sound so sure of herself.

Paige approaches her slowly from behind, putting her hands on her waist, hesitantly at first. When Azzi doesn’t move away, instead subconsciously leaning back into her touch, she rests her forehead on the younger girl’s shoulder, breathing in her scent, breathing in her. They stay like that for a few moments, breaths ragged, cheeks wet. Then Azzi’s covering her hands with her own, squeezing them gently before moving them away, stepping away, walking away, closing the door, and she’s gone.

Paige has only ever fallen in love once. Now, she thinks her heart has broken once too.

••

“I don’t like her.”

Ella brushes mascara over her lashes, dabbing at a dark blotch that had accidentally streaked her eyelid. “You haven’t even met her.”

“Well, I can already tell she’s a bitch.” Page grumbles, pacing the room for the fiftieth time that night.

“Don’t be insufferable,” Ella fixes Paige with a scrutinizing glare. “Come on, we’re gonna be late.” She grabs Paige’s hand, and Paige grimaces. Ella’s palms are always so clammy.

Much to Paige’s chagrin, her best friend isn’t even at her own apartment when they show up. The rest of the team is about to start the movie, so she sits in the corner with Ella as the lights dim. She can’t even eat the popcorn her girlfriend offers her, too busy thinking about what Azzi’s girl looks like.

Halfway through the movie, the door opens suddenly, and Azzi and the other girl fall in, giggling over something stupid. They freeze once they realize everyone’s eyes on them, but Azzi quickly straightens up and grabs her hand. “Everyone,” she says shyly. “This is Micaela.”

The entire team stands up at once, going to greet her with open arms, but Paige stays fixed to her seat, staring stubbornly at the movie. “Come on,” Ella gripes, nudging at her shoulder. “Don’t be rude.”

“Movie’s not done yet.” Paige finally reaches for the popcorn, steadfastly chewing the kernels without giving Micaela another glance.

Ella gives up, leaning back and folding her arms as she tosses another glare to the blonde. It’s only when Nika clears her throat that Paige looks up and realizes that everyone is staring at them expectantly.

Paige is resolved in her refusal to get up, but then she finally looks at Azzi. And Azzi is staring at her, with so much hurt and hope in her eyes, screaming you’re still my best friend, that Paige’s own chest hurts and she forces herself to stand up. “Hey,” she says gruffly, making her way over to Micaela and sticking out a reluctant hand. “Paige.”

“Paige! It’s so nice to meet you. I’m a huge fan!” Micaela gushes.

Paige arches an eyebrow at Nika, trying to hold back a laugh, but the brunette gives her a warning glare. Coughing away her laugh, Paige nods. “That’s cool. It’s nice to meet you too.” She glances over to Azzi, making sure she did okay. Azzi’s shoulders relax, her smile becoming a little brighter, and Paige’s eyes soften.

Everyone gathers on the couches to finish watching the movie, but all Paige can hear is the low tones coming from the kitchen, where Azzi and Micaela had stayed to make food. But when she enters, Micaela is gone, and Azzi is alone.

“Bathroom,” Azzi responds to Paige’s lifted eyebrow. Paige nods, opening up the cabinet and rummaging through the snacks, feeling the weight of Azzi’s stare on her back.

“We don’t have anymore Chex mix.”

Cursing under her breath, Paige closes the cabinet.

“Your girlfriend’s wearing my hoodie, by the way.”

Paige’s head snaps up. “What?”

“Her hoodie. It’s mine.” Azzi tilts her head, studying Paige carefully.

Paige’s face warms. “Sorry. I didn’t notice. She just took it off my bed.” Her blush intensifies when she realizes the mistake she’s accidentally just admitted, and from the tense look on Azzi’s face, she’d caught it too. But instead of addressing it, Azzi turns away, busying herself with making her sandwich.

Paige waits a little longer, hoping the younger girl will say something else, but she doesn’t. So when she returns and KK’s pouring out shots, she takes more than a few.

“Okay, y’all. We playing truth or dare,” KK announces after everyone’s had a few drinks in their system.

Ignoring the complaints, KK gathers everyone in a circle. “I’ll go first,” she declares.

With the shots she’d taken earlier, Paige feels a little loose, a nice warmth in her tummy. She’s almost relaxed when KK says, “I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.”

As if on instinct, Paige’s eyes flick to Azzi. It’s brief, and she only hesitates for a second, but it’s enough. Ella shifts uncomfortably beside her. KK is smirking, not even trying to hide the look on her face. And Paige swears she sees a hint of a smile on Azzi’s lips before she looks away.

“Come here,” she says softly, pulling Ella in and giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

“On the cheek is crazy,” she hears someone mutter. Jana elbows KK, who rolls her eyes.

KK goes around, insisting on a new version of truth or dare where she gets to ask everyone the question. Having grown accustomed to KK’s antics, no one even bothers to protest against her system.

“Azzi,” KK says. “Who was your New Year’s kiss?”

The whole team oohs. Last year, they’d been in a hotel for a game on the first day of January. Everyone had gathered in the lobby to watch the ball drop, but Paige had convinced Azzi to sneak off with her, saying that it just wouldn’t be right to start a new year without a kiss. Luckily, no one had put two and two together, but they’d all noticed Azzi returning with a goofy smile. Despite their pestering, Azzi had refused to tell them. Paige had thought it was to keep their situationship on the down low, but she realizes now that maybe it was because Azzi was embarrased of her. Her chest constricts.

“I can’t remember.”

Paige’s grip on her shot cup tightens. Azzi refuses to meet her eyes.

“Must’ve been pretty bad if you can’t remember,” Ice snickers. Paige swears she’s seeing red.

“Yeah.” Azzi pours herself another shot and drains it. “Must have.”

••

“I suck at a lot of things, but kissing isn’t one of them,” Paige says, her words slurring together.

“What did you want me to say? Both of our girlfriends were just sitting in there.” Azzi argues, just as buzzed as Paige is. The two of them glare at each other, the alcohol coursing through their bodies making them hotheaded. I wanted you to say that you kissed me. I wanted you to say that you liked kissing me. I wanted you to say that kissing you makes me feel alive in a way that nothing else can. I wanted you to feel the same. Paige’s chest heaves.

Micaela walks in, instantly picking up on the tension in the room. “Everything okay, babe?” Her hands circle Azzi’s waist as she eyes the blonde warily.

“Everything’s fine,” Paige says shortly. “We’re in the middle of something here. You can go.”

“I didn’t recall asking you.” Micaela snaps with a fire Paige didn’t know she had inside of her. “Are you good?” she directs the question at Azzi, drawing her closer.

“I’m fine.”

“Is she bothering you?”

Paige expects Azzi to open her mouth and tell Micaela off, like she always does whenever someone tries to pit the two of them against each other. Paige expects Azzi to laugh at the sheer thought of having to be saved from her best friend. But Azzi doesn’t do any of those things. She says, “Yeah, she is.” And she lets Micaela lead her away.

Is it possible to get your heart broken twice?

[anisespice]

Hey girl got a request,so like let’s say bonten is having a meeting with a new criminal organization gang that came in to come up with a deal,and while we are just sitting in the back looking at our new sparkly items Koko bought us,and the new criminal organization gang calls us out saying it’s disrespectful and rude calling us names..And bonten doesn’t like that one bit..So yeah I want them to react to that

hope it makes sense 😔😍🤺🤺

SAVE ME FROM MY WRITER'S BLOCK, ANON - HERE WE GO, NO MARIO. Hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting~!

pairing: bonten x fem!reader

warnings: mature language, misogynistic undertones (from another gang), implied violence, guns mentioned, reader is criminally oblivious (love that for her), guard-god!bonten supremacy, sanzu gets his own warning lol and i think that's it.

notes: yall. can you believe i actually wrote this in one sitting? without stopping?? wild concept for me, haven't been able to do that in a good minute *knock on wood*, but i hope you enjoy! more stuff coming soon ♡

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @spacegirl05, @neverlandlostchild , @darks-pet-shadow, @captaincyberqueen

Upon the arrival of the recently developed organization, officially known as Kaiju, things already weren’t off to a great start. They were late, clocked at about twenty minutes past schedule. Excuses poured from them like a broken faucet, blaming their tardiness on traffic, which the members were willing to give the benefit of the doubt, some more than others. Then, they were unprepared. Scrambling about with their half-assed introduction mixed with a sloppily thrown together presentation, it was insulting at worst. 

Here they were, biggest in the game, offering an opportunity to help underground operatives make a name for themselves..and this is how they want to showcase their potential? Mikey waved it off when his number three voiced this flaw, merely chalking it up with inexperience–Everyone has to start somewhere, right? 

But. Finally came strike three. The one thing, the most damning thing they could’ve ever done to have mercy jump right out the window and straight to hell, was when one of their foolish members spoke ill of you. 

It was supposed to be taken as a joke, something controversial in a room amongst men, locker room talk if you would. Unfortunately for him and the rest of his team, Bonten didn’t see it that way. What was said wasn’t important, but the intent behind it was enough to make them hostile. And Kaiju would soon realize it too late despite no one laughing on that side of the room. If anything, the room grew colder. No matter who you looked at, venom consumed their gazes, a deathly aura building from their leader all the way to the advisors. The only reason no one reached for their gun, mowing them down in an array of bullets, was because you didn’t hear the disrespectful comment. 

All gazes shifted over to you briefly, sitting pretty in your little area they set up just for you. They liked having you close by, even during something so mundane as a meeting, watching you happily paint your nails or open up all the shiny new trinkets they bought you. Kaiju should count themselves lucky that you had headphones on, blissfully listening to music, not a care in the world.

And it was going to stay that way. 

By now, the dumbasses before them caught on to their grave error. Especially when Sanzu made a show of santuring over to you upon Mikey’s silent request, swiftly gathering you in his arms and carrying you to the head of the table. You squealed slightly in surprise, headphones slipping off your ears in the process as you held on to the pink-haired gangster, confused smile on your face. “Haru! You scared me!~” 

“Sorry, doll. Boss wants ya to sit right here.” Sanzu gently sets you down on your awaited throne, Mikey having made room by scooting his chair back, welcoming you with open arms. 

Still confused though not complaining, you merely shrugged before making yourself comfortable, snuggling more into the leader before putting your headphones back on. Mikey held you possessively, arms locked around you like a shield, placing a small kiss to your forehead. Message was sent; message soon received. 

Kaiju’s leader began blubbering out more excuses, reprimanding his subordinate in the same breath for saying such a thing about Bonten’s trophy wife–

Guns are drawn instantly and zeroed in on every last one of them. Stunned to horrified silence, as were his underlings, they all stood frozen in fear as they stared down multiple barrels in every angle. Koko scoffed, “You must got a death wish, huh?” 

“She’s no trophy, have some goddamn respect,” Mochi added, earning a sardonic chuckle from Ran. 

“Big ask from idiots who have none. Couldn’t even bother to show up on time, now they wanna make jabs at our [_____]. I say we’ve been more than courteous, wouldn’t you agree, otouto?” 

“Tsk. Let’s just waste ‘em. We’d be doing the streets a favor.” 

“Great idea,” Sanzu and Takeomi answered in unison, the former sounding twice as eager. 

The only ones placid were Kakucho and Mikey, one quietly observing whilst the other made sure you remained ignorant to the situation, angling you in his lap to where you were practically straddling him, phone still in hand as you watched a music video your favorite k-pop group dropped recently. The only sounds in the room were the panicked breathing of Kaiju and your melodic humming to the song. Mikey patted your head, satisfied that you were still your happy self. If any of those bastards made your smile drop even a centimeter, he would have their bodies fed to the dogs. With a small sigh, he and Kakucho eventually made eye contact. Then, he gave a small nod. “You were right. Should’ve killed them after that shitty presentation. Handle it.” 

Kakucho gave a curt nod, then signaled for Kaiju to be apprehended. With guns still aimed at them, leaving them no choice but to grovel for mercy, the Haitanis along with Mochi and Takeomi forced them to march out of the room, and to their inevitable deaths, not wanting to startle you with the sight of bloodshed so early in the morning.

Sanzu was already dialing up reinforcements to help with cleanup and disposal, face beaming as he practically skipped out of the room. Kakucho gave one last look to you, then Mikey, then politely bowed before closing the door behind him on his way out. You jumped slightly, the song ending right when the door slammed shut, making you lift one of your headphones and look around in shock.

“Oh, is the meeting over already?” 

Mikey reached up to thumb your lower lip, then reached up to playfully pinch your cheek. You grinned, gently swatting him away, so oblivious to the men you inadvertently sent to their demise all to protect that very smile. The former blonde shook his head, leaning on the armrest to rest his chin atop his knuckles. “No. Ended up being a waste of time. Don’t think you would’ve liked them.” 

You chortled. “Doesn’t matter if I like them. It’s your business, silly.” 

“Mm, you are our business, angel. And we like you more.”

© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[jayparked]

heyy live ur writing style smmm😭

can we get 106 with Jay?🫶🏻

warnings: s2l, semi public sex in a closed restaurant, oral (f rec.), unprotected sex, slight dirty talk

"i'm not on the menu."

"w-what?" you stare at the diner owner with wide eyes. he's smiling while continuing to wipe down the counter you're sitting at.

"i gave you that menu ten minutes ago but you haven't looked away from me for a second. i'm starting to think i missed a spot shaving or something."

he's so nonchalant about what he's saying to you. as if his words didn't send chills down your spine or bring a bright flush to your cheeks.

"i-...i'm sorry, jay. i must have been zoning out..."

he flashes you a playful smirk, one that screams 'yeah, sure, whatever you say'. you're grateful he drops the subject, continuing to clean as the last few customers start to leave the diner before closing time.

"you know..." jay starts slowly, "you've been coming here every week for months..."

"...yeah?" you question cautiously, eyes peering over the menu to take in his casual stance: one elbow on the counter so his head can be pillowed by his palm, the other hand still holding the washcloth.

"why do you still ask for a menu? you and i both know you don't need it. i've got your weekly cravings down to a science now. "

you chuckle and set the menu down, opting to take a sip of water just after saying, "a science, huh?"

jay shrugs one shoulder, his gaze intensifying, "rainy days it's the soup of the day. when it's sunny you want the roast beef provolone sandwich with crinkle cut fries, a diet coke, and a pickle on the side. when you have a stressful day at school you want the pancakes with extra syrup. and when it's-"

"enough!" you hold up a hand and laugh. "i get it! i like my routine, i'm predictable, blah blah blah."

"not as predictable as i'd like you to be," jay deadpans in a husked tone. your thoughts mentally trip inside your brain and you gulp a little too loudly. seconds go by without either of you saying anything or looking away from one another. you know you should say something, anything at this point, but the words just won't come out.

"why do you still ask for a menu, y/n?"

your heart is pounding in your chest so hard it physically hurts. but now that the new year has started, you remember your goal: to be more bold, more brave, and to try not to shy away from what you want.

instead of taking the leap, you opt to answer his question...with a question.

"why do you let me order way past closing?"

jay nods his head, lips jutting out playfully, clearly not expecting the tables to turn on him so quickly.

"it's the only time you can come in. you're in lectures all day. and someone's gotta make sure you're eating after all that studying." jay gets himself upright, tossing the washcloth over his shoulder and giving you another smile before turning his back to you. he walks towards the soda machine, scooping a generous amount of ice into a glass and pressing his finger against the diet coke option.

"so you're saying...that i'm not like the other customers?" you try to come off as funny, playful, maybe even a little bit flirty, wiggling your eyebrow at his back for an extra quirky effect. but he doesn't laugh.

jay turns to you once the glass is full. slowly, he leans back down again, his face inching closer and closer to yours as he moves the glass towards you. his eye contact is hypnotizing; the way you can't break away no matter how badly you want to. you look up at him with curious, searching eyes, hoping to find any hint that what you're feeling for him isn't as crazy as you think it is.

"do you want to be like the other customers?" he murmurs so softly you almost don't hear it. he's close enough that you could reach out and touch him, close enough to pull him closer, just...close enough.

"no," you sigh dreamily, "i really don't."

finally, jay's eyes flick down towards your lips, his own lips parting slightly, a soft exhale escaping them.

his gaze meets yours again, something softer, pleading, now displayed in those deep brown eyes. "may i?"

"please," you whisper, your own eyes flicking to his lips now.

both of jay's hands come forward and softly cusp your cheeks, pulling you closer until your lips collide. after a few seconds, jay smiles widely, his teeth showing while his lips still hover over yours.

"say that again," jay murmurs, his eyes fluttering as they remain closed, thumbs brushing along your cheekbones.

you can't help but smile with him, your hands shaking as you reach out to grasp his wrists and squeezing them reassuringly. "please."

"mmm, fuck. that's gonna be a problem for me later," he groans, his words rushing out of his mouth because damn, he just needs to kiss you again.

and kiss you again he does. his lips now moving feverishly with yours. his hands wander away from your face until they're on your shoulders, moving down even more until he's grabbing you under your arms and pulling you onto the countertop. now, standing between your legs, he can finally kiss you properly. one hand is back on your cheek, warm and soft while the other grips your hip tightly, bracing himself with the contact. your own hands reach out to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his dark black hair. a particular overly excited tug has him moaning against your lips, making you inhale as the sound sends ripples of pleasure down your body. he continues to kiss you feverishly, the pace of the kisses quickening and suddenly your body is not satisfied with the amount of distance between you. you need him closer. the only thing you can think of is to wrap your legs around his waist, tightening your grip and pulling him into you even more.

after a few more moments of kissing pass, you're both forced to separate from one another to catch your breaths. he's looking at you with blown out pupils, panting with his now swollen lips parted slightly. he's beyond hungry for you, and you love the feeling of knowing you look exactly the same in his eyes.

"let's take it back to my place." he finally manages to get the words out.

"is this not technically your place?"

"you're right. god, you're so smart." with a mischievous grin jay grabs your body and lays you on the countertop, hastily throwing your legs over his shoulders and grabbing your ass and burying his face in your clothed cunt while you squeal with laughter. any innocent passerby could see what the two of you are up to. jay hadn't gotten to the part of his closing checklist that includes pulling the shades down on all the windows. hell, all the lights are even still on, making a lovely spotlight for the two of you amongst the dark city streets.

but you've dreamt of this moment for so long that you don't even care.

jay has your pants off seconds later, too impatient to continue to play around. he just needs to taste you after all those nights waking up in a cold sweat, cock twitching spurts of cum into his boxers after dreaming of what you would look like sitting on his face, riding his cock, or how you'd look under him as he pounded you senseless. and now, he doesn't have to imagine it anymore. groaning as he continues to ravage you, hands groping anywhere he can reach, his tongue flicking skillfully against your swollen clit.

"j-jay. oh my god!" you cry out, gripping the counter until your knuckles turn white, unprepared to come this quickly.

"my god, that's what you sound like screaming my name?" jay's standing now, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before moving to undo his belt. "so much better than i imagined. you're not going anywhere tonight. you're going to scream my name until you can't speak anymore. i want that throat raw in every way possible. but for now..." he groans as he pushes the tip of his cock into your hole, stretching you in new ways you haven't felt before. your body adapts to him quickly, though, as he begins to slowly thrust into you.

for part of my 1k follower celebration send me a member and a number from this list and i'll write a short drabble about it ♡ masterlist

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

The way I fell in love with this fic immediately!! OP has such a fantastic grasp on words, and pacing it fr had me completely entranced with the story. Jason and the reader felt so fleshed out and real that I just wanted to tuck them both into bed and tell them it's all going to be alright! I talk about my fav parts below the cut:

All it takes is one misstep, one stutter, one hesitation, and he will take it as an excuse to demand your demotion— or worse, termination. You’ve been preparing for this presentation for three weeks. If after all that effort it’s still not good enough, maybe you should be fired.

The stakes here are already giving me anxiety, mentally had to check if I had any high-stakes projects to take care of (I do not) but I am immersed and still feel like I do

Rush hour traffic has the ice cream tub you bought at the convenience store dripping condensation all over the passenger’s seat and your hips hurt from being in the same sitting position for most of the day, but you remind yourself that peace is only a few miles out. Stopped at yet another red light, your grip tightens on the steering wheel. Breathe in. Breathe out. The line of cars starts to move forward.

Ugh this is so visceral, I can literally feel my chest tighten at this scene (But I'm also thinking about how terrible Gotham traffic is, like I know every other day you have to change your route home because some rouge decided to rob a bank and crash their getaway car)

He’s just sitting there, doing nothing except bleeding out on your cream-colored carpet. He’s spread out on the couch like he owns the place, head leaned back against the wall as he lets his injured arm hang over the armrest and drip blood and dirt onto your cream-colored rug. The liquid seeps into the expensive wool, staining it with reddish-brown hues and the scent of iron, and he doesn’t even notice.

ooooh, ow, that's heavy. The day has just been so awful and all you want is just a moment to yourself and when you finally think your space is safe there's another issue to deal with and there's blood on your cream carpet. What's worse is that you don't him to be consider an issue, but in the moment when you're already so drained and exhausted and he's only making things harder, it's difficult to consider him as anything else

Today, your arms are too heavy and your gaze remains rooted on the widening splotch of red against white. Your throat feels dry. “You’re getting blood on the carpet.” He peers over the armrest. “Oh, shit,” he curses, lifting his arm to hover it over his lap.

Ahhh, sobbing because it's not even an 'I'm sorry' and maybe normally you don't need it to be, but today it's just another thing drawing you closer and closer to breaking

But you can’t say any of this, and you do want him to come to you whenever he needs help. God knows he won’t go anywhere else.

Love this little insight, if it's not you, then it's no one, and he's been coming around long enough for you to know that

It’s a partnered dance long since committed to muscle memory, steps you can take in your sleep.

!!! This line is such a standout for me, poetry fr

You notice the way his fingers curl against his thighs when you, somewhat carelessly, wipe the dirt from his skin with more pressure than necessary and the way his eyebrows tilt inward when you work slower than usual. You notice, but you ignore it.

I looove the tension building here, it feels like bubble about to pop, a scream about to break the silence

You’ll be subjected to all the shitty coworkers and unsympathetic friends and exploitative vigilantes of the world for the rest of your life.

SOBBING, wow, no words for this other than we all definitely need to cry

“Sorry about your rug,” he says. He tugs at the strap of his muzzle with one finger, rubbing at the skin underneath the leather. “I can get the stain out.” You retrieve the needle and thread from the kit and don’t respond. You don’t even look at him. After a moment’s hesitation, he continues. “It’s easy. You just need salt and—” “Okay.” He goes quiet.

This whole interaction is written incredibly, it has me sucking in breath and my eyes going wide. There's just this heaviness with it, both of them are trying in their own way, but nothing is going to make you feel better right now. And there's an ache that they're both messing up? Like, maybe you're not going to want him to come back after this. Or maybe he won't want to, and the whole tentative relationship you've built will just vanish

Flecks of fresh red on the light pink fabric. First your carpet, now your pajamas. Your favorite, special, extra soft matching cotton pajama set, a rare splurge after your promotion that stood out among old t-shirts and sweat shorts. Ruined. Again, he doesn’t seem to notice.

oh no

“Did I say something?” Hood asks. He waits for your response, but when none comes, he adds, “I’m sorry if I did.” He speaks so quietly you may not have been able to separate his words from the whirring filter of his mask, if not for the chilling silence of the bathroom floor.

OH NO

“Can you just let me work?” You snap before he has the chance to speak again. It’s loud, louder than you’d ever dream of speaking to him, and he flinches. Your eyes shut in apology, but only for a moment before you get back to it. He looks away. His feet point towards the door.

!!! OP!!! OW!! I'm going to go stare into the void, but YOU need to go stare at a wall and think about what you've done

(Maybe you noticed in the back of your mind that he’s not exhibiting any body language since you snapped at him, but the compartment in your head for guilt is already overflowing, so maybe you didn’t notice it, you tell yourself.)

I gasped, but it's so true to his character for him to shut down when hurt

You stare at your sleeve, at the patches of blood blooming like ink blots. The red and pink hues blend together behind your blurring vision. You sniffle.

Art

One finger ever so gently hooks around your chin, pulling it back up to face him. You keep your eyes closed, not wanting to see him see you like this, but the tears are still streaming. He brushes them away. Whether that makes it better or worse, you can’t be sure, because you cry even harder, snatching your face away from his grasp to muffle your sobs into the back of your hand.

In awe of your way with words here, I can feel the hurt and the comfort with every line

Your hands, still pressed to his chest, slide higher, completely of their own volition, out of a newfound desire to wrap your arms around his neck. You don’t hear it, but you can feel his sharp draw of breath, his chest rising quickly under your touch.

oooh, this action feel so big, so much, a line that you want to cross but neither of you are ready for

you ache with the want to know what he looks like. The color of his eyes. What his mouth looks like when he winces over a deep cut or chuckles at one of your anecdotes. You wonder if his lips are soft or chapped. If he’d like it if you dragged your thumb across the bottom one.

Yeah, wow, that's fantastic. This gets right to core of knowing Red Hod and wanting to know who's underneath, it's so compelling and I eat it up every time

He stays silent. But when you search his face, waiting for an answer, his hand moves to your side, palm sliding a fraction of an inch closer to your waist and fingers tensing, you can almost see through the mechanical muzzle to the way his lips shape the words. At least, he wishes you could. You know why.

SCREAMING, I want to give them the world and wrap them up in blankets! Seriously, this fic is just so, so good. I loved every line, and I don't think I blinked the entire time. Jason felt so human, flawed, but still kind and good. Incredible work as always, OP!! 💙💙

you're good to me, baby

with the roar of the fire my heart rose to its feet, like the ashes of ash i saw rise in the heat. settle soft and as pure as snow, i fell in love with the fire long ago.

or; because the red hood bleeding onto your living room carpet is exactly what you need right now [3.6k]

Jason Todd x fem!reader; based on this lovely ask; ngl this turned into a personal vent jason doesn't show up until 1k words in LMAO; warning there’s blood (duh) and reader is type A and suggested to have heavy anxiety; pre-established relationship where reader doesn’t know his identity + muzzle red hood bc HOT

Compartmentalize. Create baskets in your mind. Analyze the situation, and drop the corresponding emotion in the appropriate basket.

One: You had a fight with your best friend. She called you selfish because you weren’t enthusiastic about her new relationship. She just can’t seem to understand that no matter how happy you want to be for her, it’s painful to see everyone find safety in another person when you can’t. Every attempt at romance is squashed by something or the other that you keep doing wrong. I thought you were hot, your latest dating attempt had said when you ran into him and asked why he never texted back. But you’re kind of a lot. Not something I have the space for right now, you know?

Two: There’s an important presentation today, one that could determine the fate of your position in the company. Your coworker, the one who’s convinced you stole his promotion (he just flirted with the higher-ups while you actually completed the requirements), refuses to let you forget how much is at stake. All it takes is one misstep, one stutter, one hesitation, and he will take it as an excuse to demand your demotion— or worse, termination. You’ve been preparing for this presentation for three weeks. If after all that effort it’s still not good enough, maybe you should be fired.

The emotions here? Frustration. Anger. Exhaustion. Jealousy. Just to name a few. But there’s no time to dwell on anxieties right now, so you shove those thoughts aside. Drop them in their compartments and move on because, after all, if you can strip them down to their bones and find where they stem, you can yank those anxieties from the ground before they have the chance to root. And then there’s no need for unnecessary heartache, right?

(Who cares if the baskets are overflowing, crumpled fragments spilling over the sides like garbage in a landfill? Who cares if the room of your mind is so packed that you’re pressed against the wall and breathing becomes painful.)

The digital clock beside your bed reads 6:12. The numbers blink in and out of the window, their red dots and dashes taunting your heavy eyelids. You still have forty-eight minutes of peace before it will scare you awake. Its beeping will ring so loud and angry that the adrenaline from the startle will power you through your morning routine, and your beating heart won’t dare still to entertain wishes of just five more minutes. 6:13 now. You have forty-seven more minutes of peace, minutes which should be spent sleeping, giving your poor brain a break from itself. But you can’t. Every time you close your eyes and begin to sink below the level of consciousness, your heart pumps a house-special cocktail of cortisol that laces through your bloodstream and convinces you that if you fall asleep you will miss your presentation and you will get fired. The off-grid escape plan formulating in your head switches from hypothetical to tentative when your neighbors, apparently awoken to lust as well as tired by it, start going at it again. You want nothing more than to bang on their door and scream obscenities until they hate each other enough to never touch again, but you resign yourself to consciousness, giving up on the dream of what would now be forty-four more minutes of sleep. 

It’s Friday morning; only one more day to get through before the sweet release of the weekend finds you. (The whole weekend will be spent contemplating the start of a project, feeling like two days is not nearly long enough to complete anything, and dreading Monday until it finds you with nothing done and the same, endless cycle awaiting.)

After completing your morning routine 44 minutes early, you use the spare time to go through your presentation once more, just for good luck, wrapping up the third run-through just in time to hear your alarm to leave for work.

The presentation goes decent, at least well enough to quell any doubts about your ability to do your job. Your coworker ate his words for sure, and you might have enjoyed the look on his face had you not mentally checked out as soon as you finished your closing remarks. Rush hour traffic has the ice cream tub you bought at the convenience store dripping condensation all over the passenger’s seat and your hips hurt from being in the same sitting position for most of the day, but you remind yourself that peace is only a few miles out. Stopped at yet another red light, your grip tightens on the steering wheel. Breathe in. Breathe out. The line of cars starts to move forward.

When you get home, your frustration is close to boiling over. You kick off your shoes right at the door, your keys and bag following close behind.

Far be it from you to break down on the floor in the middle of the room, the plan begins to formulate. There’s a box of tissues on your desk– that can go on the nightstand, along with two of the chilled water bottles you keep in the fridge for after you work out. And you’ll need something for the tissues, right? The small wastebasket from the bathroom should be fine. You drag it over to the side of your bed, sitting in your usual spot to make sure you placed it at a reachable distance. You won’t want to get out of bed to wash your face after this, so a washcloth should go next to the tissues. And an extra one, just to be safe. There’s a half-pint of ice cream left in the freezer, you remember, and store that information for later.

You keep a set of comfortable clothes ready, the nicest, softest pajamas you own that you only wear after an everything shower. This shower, however, is a quick one, not much more than a few minutes under scalding water to comfort you, if nothing else. The light pink pajamas are a high-quality cotton and you feel like you’re in the clouds when you slip into them. Remaining is the ice cream, which you set out on the counter right before your shower so it would thaw just enough to be soft but not melted, With everything in your room ready, you go to retrieve the ice cream but stop with a startle when you round the corner.

“Jesus,” you mumble.

He’s just sitting there, doing nothing except bleeding out on your cream-colored carpet. He’s spread out on the couch like he owns the place, head leaned back against the wall as he lets his injured arm hang over the armrest and drip blood and dirt onto your cream-colored rug. The liquid seeps into the expensive wool, staining it with reddish-brown hues and the scent of iron, and he doesn’t even notice.

“Hey.” The Red Hood lifts his head when he sees you.

On any other day, you’d be quick to action, hauling him up off the couch and sprinting for the first aid kit under the bathroom sink. Today, your arms are too heavy and your gaze remains rooted on the widening splotch of red against white. Your throat feels dry. “You’re getting blood on the carpet.”

He peers over the armrest. “Oh, shit,” he curses, lifting his arm to hover it over his lap. He sounds robotic through his muzzle mask. His hood, pulled down to reveal his thick black hair curling at the ends from humidity and sweat, rests on his back.

I don’t have time for this, is what you want to say. You want to scream it in his face and kick him out for having the audacity to think he can come and go as he pleases, that you’re nothing more than a drive-through emergency room who will drop everything if he gets so much as a paper cut. But you can’t say any of this, and you do want him to come to you whenever he needs help. God knows he won’t go anywhere else.

Holding back your heavy sigh, you wordlessly walk to the bathroom. He takes that as an invitation to follow. 

It’s clinical. Rehearsed. Neither of you speak. It’s a partnered dance long since committed to muscle memory, steps you can take in your sleep. He knows to seat himself on the step stool you got just for him, for nights like these. He knows where to find the first aid kit and which supplies to hand you first. You know the exact steps to follow. Check the palms for abrasions. Antiseptic to the lacerations. Concussion exam. 

Maybe he can sense the air of tension surrounding you, because he doesn’t say as much as he usually does (though, granted, it’s still not much). It’s a reflection of your dynamic several months earlier when this arrangement began, back before you’d managed to chip away at the surface of his rough exterior. You notice the way his fingers curl against his thighs when you, somewhat carelessly, wipe the dirt from his skin with more pressure than necessary and the way his eyebrows tilt inward when you work slower than usual. You notice, but you ignore it.

We both know you have at least a dozen people who could do this for you. The words echo in your mind. Don’t act like I owe you this. If anything, you owe me a new carpet. These are things you wish you could say, but never will. Being realistic, you’ll probably never be able to say things like this. You’ll be subjected to all the shitty coworkers and unsympathetic friends and exploitative vigilantes of the world for the rest of your life.

This isn’t his fault, you remind yourself, but still, your lips turn down and your jaw feels tight with the effort to keep your face still, to not burst into tears right on the spot. In the second it takes for you to calm yourself, your hands pause. He notices. He says nothing. 

It’s not until you’re finished with cleaning the blood from his arm wound and giving him a wad of gauze to hold against it that he tests the waters and asks, “Is it too bad?” 

He sounds automated, but over the last few months, you’ve learned a thing or two about reading even these robotic actions. There's a certain quietness to the beginning of his sentence like he’s debating if he should say it or not. 

“It’s fine,” you say, shortly. 

“Sorry about your rug,” he says. He tugs at the strap of his muzzle with one finger, rubbing at the skin underneath the leather. “I can get the stain out.”

You retrieve the needle and thread from the kit and don’t respond. You don’t even look at him.

After a moment’s hesitation, he continues. “It’s easy. You just need salt and—”

“Okay.”

He goes quiet.

You don’t mean to be so tetchy, but you don’t have the energy for anything more. Every little thing has you feeling on the edge of shattering. It’s too much. It’s all too much.

It’s when you’re kneeled at his side, staring into the gaping wound on his bicep and trying to thread the needle, fingers trembling from the chill of the tiled floor with nothing but a layer of thin cotton to keep you warm, that it happens. He shifts on the stool, a mere twitch in an attempt to get comfortable, but it brushes his bloody arm against yours. Flecks of fresh red on the light pink fabric. First your carpet, now your pajamas. Your favorite, special, extra soft matching cotton pajama set, a rare splurge after your promotion that stood out among old t-shirts and sweat shorts. Ruined. Again, he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Did I say something?” Hood asks. He waits for your response, but when none comes, he adds, “I’m sorry if I did.” He speaks so quietly you may not have been able to separate his words from the whirring filter of his mask, if not for the chilling silence of the bathroom floor. The insulating brick walls of your old apartment building are something you’re usually grateful for, but tonight you find yourself wishing for the city’s commotion to seep through the walls. Something, anything to buffer his proximity to you.

You hear his inhale as he prepares to say something else.

“Can you just let me work?” You snap before he has the chance to speak again. It’s loud, louder than you’d ever dream of speaking to him, and he flinches. Your eyes shut in apology, but only for a moment before you get back to it. He looks away. His feet point towards the door.

He wants to leave, you can tell, and you don’t blame him. You just messed everything up. But you started this, so now you have to finish it.

You sit in silence for the several minutes it takes for you to clean his wound and stop the bleeding.

He’s not looking at you, gaze transfixed ahead of him on a chip in the paint. At least, you assume. It’s difficult to guess what’s going on behind the milky white covering over his eyes. His subtle body language can be read if you pay close enough attention, you’ve learned, but that’s not something you care to do right now.

(Maybe you noticed in the back of your mind that he’s not exhibiting any body language since you snapped at him, but the compartment in your head for guilt is already overflowing, so maybe you didn’t notice it, you tell yourself.)

You stare at your sleeve, at the patches of blood blooming like ink blots. The red and pink hues blend together behind your blurring vision. You sniffle.

“Are you—” Hood starts. Because now he’s looking at you.

“Excuse me,” you say, pushing yourself off the ground and stumbling out of the room without so much as a glance back at him. You stagger into your room, needle and thread still in hand, and push the door closed. The lights are off, and the darkness is calming, quieting your buzzing thoughts. You close your eyes and lean against the door. Breathe in. Breathe out. You continue this exercise, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth to soothe your sympathetic nervous system, the same way a therapist instructed that one time you went. You wipe away the moisture that has collected in your eyes, roll out your stiff neck, dry your sweaty palms over your thighs. You toss the needle and thread aside, because they are definitely not sterile anymore, and take a few more breaths before opening the door and going back to the bathroom.

You avoid his face, following the lines of grimy grout between the tiles before resuming to your spot at his side. His inspecting eyes burn on the side of your face. You wipe down the forceps with a sterilizing wipe and rip open the plastic packaging for a new needle, holding it up to the wound, but your hand refuses to steady.

Another deep breath. Then another.

Hood sighs. It’s almost chastising. “I think I should go.”

“What?” You’re just surprised enough to be torn away from your thoughts and look him in the eye (mask) for the first time all night.

“You can’t do this,” he says, gruffly. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll let you figure it out.”

You scoff. “Yes, I can. I’m fine.”

Before he can argue, you grab him by the wrist to hold him in place just as he starts moving to get up. He winces, but you keep your grip tight on him. You can feel his scrutiny through the cold, expressionless barrier of his disguise, practically track his pupils as they search your face.

You both pretend he couldn’t break from your hold in an instant if he wanted to.

“You’re shaking,” Hood says. His voice is much softer now.

You follow the turn of his head to your hand where it hovers the needle right over his skin. You are shaking. Trembling, in fact.

“No, I’m not.” It comes out as an empty whisper.

You focus all your strength on steadying yourself, but the harder you try to stabilize, the harder you tremor. Your other hand releases his wrist to clamp over your dominant hand and force it to stay in place. It guides the needle closer to the skin, but now your vision is blurring. You blink rapidly, but it’s not enough. The tears start falling. You look away from him, but a warm hand settles over yours. You don’t dare look at him, unable to bear showing him your shameful face, wet and blushing and screwed up in misery. You turn your face into your sleeve. Clamp your eyes shut tight, thinking maybe if you keep them closed, this darkness will swallow you up and he won’t be here anymore.

But the warmth of his skin on yours is the first feeling of softness, of relief you’ve felt in months, and then it’s gone. Your shoulders are shaking, quaking with the effort to keep your sobs quiet.

One finger ever so gently hooks around your chin, pulling it back up to face him. You keep your eyes closed, not wanting to see him see you like this, but the tears are still streaming. He brushes them away. Whether that makes it better or worse, you can’t be sure, because you cry even harder, snatching your face away from his grasp to muffle your sobs into the back of your hand. You don’t realize he’s pushed himself off his stool to sit cross-legged on the floor until you feel his hand circling your arm and pulling you closer. The tools in your hand clatter on the floor as your palms come up to press against his chest, fighting against him with half-hearted protests murmured through your cries. But even with only one good arm he’s too strong for you, and you’re pulled into him.

He’s so gentle with you, rubbing your back and resting his chin atop your head while you cry and cry and cry into his shirt. Several minutes pass like this, with your face buried in his chest and his good arm holding you tightly against him while the other dangles lamely at his side, throbbing with an intensity he’s trying to ignore.

When your sobs die down, and you’re sure you’re all cried out, you linger against him. He smells like smoke and gasoline, and his shirt is soft and warm from his body heat seeping through. His hand continues to stroke up and down the length of your back, even after you’ve quieted. The edge of his mask digs into your scalp where his chin sits, but it feels worth it. Your hands, still pressed to his chest, slide higher, completely of their own volition, out of a newfound desire to wrap your arms around his neck. You don’t hear it, but you can feel his sharp draw of breath, his chest rising quickly under your touch. Your hands lose their nerve at his clavicle as you hold your breath for fear of the smallest movement drawing attention to your forwardness. You wait for him to rebuff you, to lean away from your touch, or grab your wrists and pry them off. He doesn’t.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. His chest finally falls.

Eyes opening, your thumb swipes over the edge of the red bat symbol just below his collarbone.

His movements pause, lightly gripping the fabric of your shirt for just a moment, before releasing it. “It’s alright,” he tells you.

You pull back from his chest to look at him, the way his cold and unfeeling expression stares back at you. You wonder from time to time what’s under the mask, but tonight the desire is overwhelming; you ache with the want to know what he looks like. The color of his eyes. What his mouth looks like when he winces over a deep cut or chuckles at one of your anecdotes. You wonder if his lips are soft or chapped. If he’d like it if you dragged your thumb across the bottom one.

The metallic odor spreading through the room brings you back to the present, and you hope the flush from your tears hides your cheeks’ growing heat when you realize where your mind had wandered. 

“Oh, fuck, your arm.” You speak in a watery voice, wiping at your face as the urgency returns to your senses. Though you try to move away, his firm hand on your back pulls you back in.

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” He says, resuming his caresses up and down your back. “I can take care of it.”

“Then why do you even need me?” You sniffle with a small smile.

He stays silent. But when you search his face, waiting for an answer, his hand moves to your side, palm sliding a fraction of an inch closer to your waist and fingers tensing, you can almost see through the mechanical muzzle to the way his lips shape the words. At least, he wishes you could.

You know why.

this was lots of fun to write and thank u for your patience ik i said i was gonna "knock this out in a day" 2 weeks ago😬😬 also we're gonna pretend they aren't just letting his open wound marinate for half an hour when it should be getting stitched up bc it's fiction ok? everyone say thank you mostly-imagines for proofreading this😚

but anyway happy new year!! it's been barely 2 months but starting this account made my year so much better🫶🫶🫶and ty for 500 followers that's crazy🫣🫢

[amara-eilish]

can you write a fic based on billie wanting to film r and her having sex (but like with sub!top!billie pleassee) i love ur work and i'm sooo happy ur backkkk

kind of not proofread sorry!

"but baby what am i gonna do so far away from you!" billie says in front of you. the both of you were both lying in bed while billie brushed her fingers through your hair. billie had just brought up the fact that the two of you were going to go without sex for 2 months on her first leg of tour.

you laughed at how much she needed you but brushed off the topic. the topic changed, and the two of you talked about random things before it got quiet. you could hear billie's breathing getting heavier.

"what's wrong pretty? what's got your head thinking so hard?" you ask

billie smiled softly, "i want to record us, make a video. something to keep me company when i'm missing you." her eyes sparkled with joy and you could see how much she wanted it. " a video, hm?" 

your voice was quiet as you whispered in her ear softly running your fingers down her back. "what kind of video do you want to film sweet girl?"

billie whined burying her head in your neck, "you know what i mean baby" she mumbled.

"do i? can you remind me baby?" you tease.

"wanna film us having sex," billie whispers clawing at your clothes.

you laugh quietly and nod at her to go set up the camera. she shot up quickly running to set it up.

she propped the phone up on the bedside table, angling it to capture the entire bed, ensuring everything would be captured. the camera lens stared back at them, a silent witness to the scene about to unfold.

"gonna show you what a good girl i am for you" billie says excitedly. "yeah? gonna be good for me?" you breathe out in anticipation.

your breath caught as billie's lips brushed against your core. the feeling of billie's tongue sending shivers through your body. your back arched, pushing your hips upwards, as she ate you out. billie's mouth was relentless, her tongue flicking and probing, driving you to the brink of ecstasy.

"fuck baby" you gasped, your hands gripping the sheets tightly. "doing so good f'me, making me feel so good, pretty."

billie's moaned at the praise, the vibrations adding to the pleasure. she could get drunk off the taste of you and bathed your continuous praise.

as your moans grew louder, billie slipped two fingers inside curling them to find that sweet spot that would send you over the edge. your body tensed, muscles clenching around billie's fingers as you cried out in release.

"yesss baby. so good for me always. always been my good girl" your voice echoed through the room, pushing billie to continue, savoring the taste of your orgasm.

billie crawled up your body, leaving a trail of kisses along your chest. before kissing your lips passionately.

you laughed, a playful glint in your eyes. "can't wait to watch it back. maybe we should make a few more, just to be sure."

tags: updating my tag list let me know if you want to be added!

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

self-defense. l Joel Miller

before Jackson

Summary: a certain situation made him have to teach you both something

Warnings:  some angst, blood, a little bit of fluff, weapons, Ellie is in on it

A/N: little something. boring as hell. the idea for this chapter was given by the wonderful @underneath-the-sky-again . thank you so much! i hope you like it, sweetie. ❤️

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

When these men appeared in his sight his body activated its survival function, above all else. The brain sent clear signals - he had to keep you and Ellie safe.

However, when he automatically reached for your arm, you slipped away from him, his fingers closing on nothing. Joel looked to his left, surprised, and noticed that you were already close to Ellie, you pulled her down to hide her from the men's attention. Your eyes met, you nodded slightly, knowing what had to be done.

"All good?"

A nod, although you didn't look up at him. You dipped the cloth in the cold stream again and put it to your cut lip, which was slowly starting to bleed less and less. Joel glanced at Ellie. Wrapped in a sleeping bag, she was sleeping safely under the ledge where you had set up a makeshift camp for the night.

You hadn't talked much since what had happened. The most important thing was for you to get away from the three bodies you left lying on the ground as soon as possible.

"That guy..." Joel started, crouching down next to you, "He was strong, too strong for you."

"Don't say that," you mumbled, "I was able to handle him."

You were already pretty banged up before Joel grabbed the guy by the jacket and almost ripped him off you. The guy easily got behind you, tackled you to the ground, and grabbed the gun. Your split lip, the abrasions on your hands and cheek, that was the best thing that could have happened to you that day.

"I was thinking about something..." Joel said quietly, taking the cloth from your hand, rinsing it well in the stream, and then taking your hand in his, "You and Ellie, you need to learn how to defend yourselves without a weapon. If something like that happens again."

Your hand seemed so small and delicate to him compared to his. Joel gently cleaned the wounds on your hands and knuckles. He didn't look at you, he knew perfectly well that you felt ashamed of your helplessness and what had happened. It was unnecessary... He didn't even think of judging you, he simply drew conclusions from what he saw.

"Joel, I'm sure that no amount of skill will allow us to kill an infected without a weapon." you replied.

"It's not infected I'm worried about."

You knew what he meant, too well. You felt embarrassed by all this, it would be better if he yelled at you, reminded you of your helplessness and stupidity, because you should have been more careful. Meanwhile, Joel was calm and composed, caring towards you and Ellie.

"I'm not as helpless as it may seem." you mumbled, taking your hand from his. "He surprised me. I've dealt with people like that before and..."

"I didn't say you can't handle it." he interrupted you again in the same calm voice "I saw what you did."

Only then did you look at him. Joel had beautiful eyes and they said more than he could say with his mouth. They radiated concern, but also determination, and you knew perfectly well that he was right.

"The first thing you did when those guys showed up was to shield Ellie. You made sure she was hidden, and only then did you reach for the weapon. That guy surprised you, knocked you down easily... I want you to know how to defend yourself despite everything. Same with Ellie."

"Yeah, I guess you're right..."

The corner of his mouth twitched slightly, and then he carefully grabbed your chin and turned your face towards him. You hissed quietly in pain when the cold cloth touched your torn cheek.

"When do you want to start classes?"

"Tomorrow."

Ellie looked at Joel skeptically when he told her at breakfast what his plans were for you that day.

"And you agree to this?" she asked, looking at you surprised "You're doing great! You don't need any training or anything like that."

You swallowed a sip of hot but weak tea "Joel's right. We should learn how to defend ourselves."

He had you on his side, Ellie had to give in. Finally the girl nodded.

"Okay, but I still think that if I had a gun..."

"Not yet, Ellie..." Joel muttered rolling his eyes "There will be time for that too."

She had no mercy for Joel, and after a few minutes you already felt sorry for him. Ellie without hesitation dug her heel into his foot and her elbow into his stomach when Joel stood behind her trying to catch her. 

Maybe she was too small and too weak to throw him, but she was doing great. Joel practiced a few different ways to defend herself with her, patiently paying attention to what she should watch out for, and she listened to him really carefully. She respected and really liked him, so even though she grumbled at first, she learned very quickly at that point.

"I can't do that." You stated as Joel grabbed you from behind, just like the guy the day before.

"You can't defend yourself?" he asked, surprised. You were watching Ellie, so you had to know what to do.

"I can't hurt you, Joel." You sighed, "I know we practice, but..."

"Ellie had no mercy." He snorted somewhere above your ear, and you laughed to yourself, "What'll help you? Maybe..."

He did it by surprise. He grabbed your hair and pulled you back, his arm around your neck tightened and then...

"Fuck!"

A dull thud made Ellie, who had been watching you closely, flinch. Joel was panting heavily lying on the ground and you were pressing your knee against his chest.

"That was good." he panted and you smiled.

"I was watching you, I had it easier."

"Yeah, interesting."

Suddenly his hand tightened below your knee and Joel overexerted himself so that now you were under him. You struggled for a moment but eventually he caught your hands and pinned them above your head.

He raised an eyebrow panting "So what now, smartass?"

You lifted your knee and Joel nervously looked between you. His manhood could be in danger.

"If you're going to keep teasing each other like this, maybe I should just leave?" Ellie called and you chuckled seeing Joel's look.

"We're not teasing at all." he mumbled standing up and holding out his hand to help you too "Are you packed?"

Ellie rolled her eyes and headed towards her backpack. You watched her, dusting off the pine needles and leaves from your pants, then looked at Joel, who was also following her with his eyes.

"She'll be fine. Thanks to you." You said, placing your hand on his shoulder and rubbing it gently.

He mumbled something incomprehensible.

"Listen," you stood in front of him, his brown eyes moved at you. "You do everything you can, you keep her safe, you teach her and even if Ellie teases you... You are everything she has."

"Now she has you too." Joel added.

"So let's worry about her together, it'll be a little easier for us. You can't carry everything by yourself, Joel."

He nodded. He wanted to say something else, thank you for those words or praise you for how well you did, but he couldn't put it into words. His eyes had told you that a long time ago, though.

"I'm ready, you whiny old man!" Ellie's call reached you and you both sighed, shaking your heads.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven

[fdelopera]

Here's a transcript in English. Bless Yoseph Haddad. He has the patience of a saint to try to get through to these ignorant, brain-rotted Hamasnik morons who have been twisted by white saviorism and Jew-hate.

.

Yoseph Haddad: … Can I like, get a little bit of knowledge about it? Can I get a bit more things about it?

Ignorant Hamasnik: I'm not the best to ask, because I'm not super knowledgable. Yeah…

Yoseph Haddad: Aren't you…? Sorry, I'm really confused, because this is really important. This apartheid is not okay.

Ignorant Hamasnik: Yeah…

Yoseph Haddad: And I tried to go online and search about it, and I saw a lot of talks. Like, oh there isn't apartheid, there is apartheid. And I said, I'm gonna come here and just gonna hear it from you guys.

Ignorant Hamasnik: Yeah…

Yoseph Haddad: But can I be honest? I'm really disappointed, because I thought you represent the Palestinian club, and you would know about it.

Ignorant Hamasnik: Yeah, no, I mean…

Yoseph Haddad: So, wait, is there apartheid in there?

Ignorant Hamasnik: If you're asking for a personal opinion, yes.

Yoseph Haddad: What do you mean "personal opinion"?

Ignorant Hamasnik: As in, that's just my opinion, yeah.

Yoseph Haddad: I'm a bit confused, sorry. Because like, the personal opinion does not matter. The fact does matter, like if there is an apartheid or no.

Ignorant Hamasnik: Yeah, I mean…

Yoseph Haddad: What's the apartheid? It's like, what do you do in that?

Ignorant Hamasnik: Like, the definition of … apartheid…?

Yoseph Haddad: Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Ignorant Hamasnik: (laughs) I mean, again, like, I don't have the definition with me. Um, I think from what I believe, I mean, you've got checkpoints? So uh…

Yoseph Haddad: Well, you have checkpoints also like in between countries, no? If someone from Argentina wants to go to Brazil, doesn't he go to a checkpoint? So, this is not exactly the definition of apartheid. Look, Amnesty said that they [Israeli Arabs] are part of the Apartheid as well, that they live under apartheid as well. They do? They do live under apartheid, the Arabs who live in Israel, as well?

Ignorant Hamasnik: To that extent, I wouldn't know. I've never been to Israel.

Yoseph Haddad: Oh okay. And the Palestinians?

Ignorant Hamasnik: I've never been to that side either, no.

Yoseph Haddad: So, they live under apartheid, or they don't live under apartheid?

Ignorant Hamasnik: Yes…

Yoseph Haddad: How is it like, implemented? How is it on the ground? The facts on the ground?

Ignorant Hamasnik: I mean … so like I said, so, checkpoints can be in an area. You've got things like uh, separate, like what is it, license plates?

Yoseph Haddad: The license of the car?

Ignorant Hamasnik: Yeah, it's like a different colour.

Yoseph Haddad: Why it should be the same? If like, a person from New Zealand has a license plate of New Zealand, and a person from Australia has a license plate from Australia. So, New Zealand is an apartheid to Australia? Or Australia is an apartheid to New Zealand?

Ignorant Hamasnik: I mean, that's different, because we're two separate…

Yoseph Haddad: Can I be straight honest with you? I'm not really "an Arab who lives in Israel."

Ignorant Hamasnik: Yeah…

Yoseph Haddad: And I don't know what people are telling you or not telling you. I don't know if any of those people who are in that club even speak Arabic like me as an Arab. There are problems. I will never say that there isn't a problem.

Ignorant Hamasnik: Yeah…

Yoseph Haddad: But I have to be honest with you, this is a branwash. It's a brainwash. I can vote. I can get elected. I can become the president of Israel, if I want right now to nominate myself. Whether I win or not, that's no difference. I don't have a different bus system. I don't have different judges. In fact, and Arab judge, an Arab judge in Israel, a Supreme Court judge, sent the Jewish Prime Minister and the Jewish President [to jail]. I don't want you to believe me. I want you to check the name. Salim Joubran. In an apartheid, that cannot happen. I have freedom of movement. I came to New Zealand with my Israeli passport, as an Arab. No one can stop me. And by the way, it doesn't mean that racism doesn't exist or discrimination. But you want to tell me that also in New Zealand racism and discrimination does not exist?? Unfortunately, it exists everywhere. And what about Hamas?

Ignorant Hamasnik: Yeah, no, I mean, it's rough…

Yoseph Haddad: It's rough?? Look, Hamas controls Gaza. Israel does not control Gaza.

Ignorant Hamasnik: Yeah, I'm aware.

Yoseph Haddad: So, Israel does not have even one inch. Hamas has a border with Egypt. And Egypt closed that border as well. So, why an Arab state closed the border with Arab Gaza?

Ignorant Hamasnik: …

Yoseph Haddad: Because of terrorism. Helping us is not lying nor about deaths or promoting the brainwash of this. I don't live under an apartheid regime. The Palestinians have problems, which we need to resolve. But the obstacle is not actually Israel. The obstacle right now is the terrorist organization from Gaza and the corrupted Palestinian Authority. I hope, I hope I managed to bear something, and also, maybe I did not change your mind, but maybe I made you ask more tough questions to the poeple who made you join this club.

Arab-Israeli questioning why Israel is accused of being apartheid when his personal experiences show him otherwise.

[scoupsakakitty]

hi!! I really liked the hoshi x 4th gen idol fic, do you think you could write it for my boyfie vernon please?? thank uuu <333

Eyes on You | idol!Vernon x idol!reader | fluff

The lights in the massive arena sparkled like stars, cameras flashing as idols filled the stage for the final group photo of the night. Cheers echoed through the venue, a mix of excitement and celebration as the award show came to an end.

Y/N stood with her group, smiling for the cameras and waving at the fans, but her attention kept drifting.

He was standing so close.

Vernon.

His group was positioned right next to hers, and by some twist of fate, they had ended up nearly side by side. She could feel his presence without even looking, but when she finally dared to glance his way, their eyes met.

Her breath caught, but she quickly smiled, pretending to stay calm.

To her surprise, Vernon smiled back—a small, subtle smile that made her heart race.

They held eye contact for just a second too long before Y/N looked away, trying to focus on the cameras. But the heat in her cheeks lingered.

And then it happened again.

When the music started and the idols began to exit the stage, Vernon glanced at her one more time. This time, she caught him and raised an eyebrow as if to say, Caught you.

He just smiled.

———————————————————————————-

By the time Y/N got back to her dorm that night, her phone was blowing up.

Videos of Vernon and Y/N’s lingering stares and subtle smiles had gone viral. Fans had zoomed in, slowed the footage, and added captions about “soulmates” and “love at first sight.”

Y/N buried her face in her hands as her groupmates crowded around her, laughing and showing her the edits.

“Oh my God, look at this one!” one of them said, shoving their phone toward her. It was a slowed-down video of Vernon smiling at her with dramatic music in the background.

“Stop,” Y/N groaned, but she couldn’t stop smiling.

Her heart skipped when she saw his name trending alongside hers. Was he seeing all of this too?

———————————————————————————-

The next day, Y/N’s phone buzzed with a notification.

Instagram DM: Chwe Hansol

Her heart dropped. No way.

She opened it quickly.

Vernon: Hey. I hope this isn’t weird, but I just wanted to say congrats on your performance last night. You guys were amazing.

Y/N stared at the message, reading it three times before typing back.

Y/N: Thank you so much! Congrats to you too. You guys were incredible.

His reply came almost instantly.

Vernon: Haha, thanks. I think I might have stared a little too much last night. Sorry about that.

She laughed out loud.

Y/N: You definitely did. But it’s okay—I was staring too.

There was a pause, and Y/N wondered if she’d said too much. But then another message popped up.

Vernon: Wanna make it less awkward and talk in person sometime?

———————————————————————————-

A few days later, they finally met up. It was late at night, and the streets were quiet as they walked side by side through the city.

Y/N had been nervous at first, but Vernon’s easygoing vibe put her at ease. They talked about everything—music, family, and how surreal their lives felt sometimes.

At one point, Y/N pulled out her phone. “I need to show you something.”

“What is it?” Vernon leaned closer, curious.

“My cat had kittens last week,” she said, grinning as she pulled up photos.

His eyes lit up as he looked at the pictures. “No way. They’re so tiny!”

“I was there when they were born,” Y/N said, her smile softening. “Two of them needed help, so I had to step in.”

Vernon looked at her, clearly impressed. “You helped deliver them?”

She nodded. “It was kind of scary, but also amazing.”

“That’s… really cool,” he said, swiping through the pictures. “They’re adorable.”

“You should meet them,” Y/N said without thinking. When she realized what she’d said, her eyes widened. “I mean—only if you want to.”

Vernon smiled. “I want to.”

As they kept walking, Vernon brushed his hand against hers—just lightly at first, almost as if by accident. But when Y/N didn’t pull away, he laced his fingers through hers.

Her heart skipped, but she didn’t let go.

———————————————————————————-

A few days later, rumors exploded online.

Photos had surfaced of two people walking hand-in-hand late at night. Their faces weren’t visible, but fans speculated immediately—was it Vernon and Y/N?

Y/N scrolled through the photos, her stomach twisting. The comments were endless, and even though some fans defended them, others weren’t as kind.

Her phone buzzed.

Vernon: Don’t worry about the photos. Are you okay?

Y/N: I’m fine. Just nervous.

Vernon: Me too. Can I see you later?

They met up again that night, but this time, Vernon looked more serious.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about this,” he said, his voice soft. “And about you.”

Y/N swallowed. “What about me?”

“I like you, Y/N. More than a friend.” He hesitated, his fingers brushing against hers again. “I know this isn’t easy, but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

Y/N’s heart pounded.

“I like you too,” she admitted.

Vernon’s eyes softened, and he let out a quiet breath of relief. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

For a moment, they just stood there, hands still linked.

“I don’t care what people say,” Vernon said finally. “As long as you’re okay with this, I’ll do whatever it takes to make it work.”

Y/N smiled softly, her fingers tightening around his. “I’m okay with this,” she said, her voice steady despite the rapid beating of her heart. “As long as we’re careful and honest with each other, I think we can handle it.”

Vernon’s lips curved into a relieved smile. “I’ll always be honest with you.”

They stood there for a moment longer, just taking it all in—the weight of what they had just admitted to each other, the excitement of something new, and the slight nervousness of what might come next.

Finally, Vernon gently pulled her closer, their joined hands resting between them. “I promise, I’ll protect this—protect us. No matter what.”

Y/N looked up at him, her chest warming at his words. “Me too.”

———————————————————————————-

The days that followed were a blur of rehearsals, schedules, and whispers about the mysterious couple in the viral photos. Fans had yet to confirm their identities, but speculation continued to spread.

Y/N tried to ignore the noise, focusing instead on the texts and late-night calls with Vernon that had quickly become the highlight of her days.

One night, Vernon called her after his schedule ended.

“How are you holding up?” he asked.

Y/N sighed, flopping onto her bed. “Better than I expected. I think the rumors are starting to die down.”

“Good.” He paused for a moment before adding, “I miss you.”

Her heart fluttered. “I miss you too.”

“Can I see you this weekend?”

Y/N smiled. “You still want to meet my kittens?”

Vernon laughed. “You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to that.”

———————————————————————————-

When Vernon finally came over to see her kittens, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. She had never invited someone into this part of her life before—her home, her safe space—but Vernon fit in so naturally.

The moment he stepped inside, his eyes lit up at the sight of the kittens tumbling over each other in their tiny bed.

“No way,” he said, crouching down to get a closer look. “They’re even cuter in person.”

“I told you,” Y/N teased, sitting down beside him.

One of the kittens—a fluffy gray one—wandered over to Vernon and pawed at his shoe. He laughed and gently picked it up, cradling it in his hands like it was the most fragile thing in the world.

Y/N watched him, her heart swelling.

“You’re really good with them,” she said softly.

Vernon looked up and smiled. “I like them. And… I like being here.”

Her breath caught, but before she could say anything, Vernon leaned in and kissed her cheek.

“You make me feel at home,” he murmured, his voice so soft she almost didn’t catch it.

Y/N felt her cheeks warm, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as the kitten purred in his lap.

———————————————————————————-

Despite the rumors, the world slowly moved on, and Vernon and Y/N fell into an easy rhythm.

They couldn’t be as public as other couples, but they found comfort in stolen moments—late-night walks, quiet dinners, and lazy afternoons playing with kittens.

Their relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was theirs. And as they held hands in the privacy of her apartment, surrounded by sleeping kittens, Y/N knew she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Vernon squeezed her hand gently, pulling her closer.

“We’ll figure this out,” he whispered, brushing his lips against her forehead.

Y/N smiled. “I know we will.”

And for the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

[sugarikiz]

— 𝑖𝑖. TOO LATE TO SAY SORRY

𝑖n which . . . your boyfriend messed up really bad , and he has to make up with you somehow.

─── ♡ 𝓅airing . . . bf! heeseung x 𝑓. reader >< 𝓌arnings . . . angst + est. relationship + crying + kissing . 𝓌c 0.63k .

✦

注記 ─── happy first hee fic !! first time writing for him, and it just had to be angst…

NOT PROOFREAD, SORRY FOR ANY ERRORS

lee heeseung; the love of your life. the constant back hugs and the never-relenting compliments all felt like a dream to you. the way he loved you was so much more special other person ever had before, and you felt so happy that you found someone like him in your life.

today, the constant bickering and tension you had between the two of you was different than any kind of disagreement you had ever had. it slowly escalated, both of your tempers rising till your known to be sweet boyfriend lashed out on you.

“you never do anything right, you act like a little child and you never actually try to see how i feel!”

the second those words left heeseung’s mouth, you felt your world shatter. is that really how he felt after all these years of being together?

the moment the man realised what he said, he instantly started regretting it, beating himself up inside. you could have seen the guilt seep into his eyes if you tried, but the way your vision hazed up didn’t let you.

“baby, I-” you shook your head, stopping him from speaking any more. after a few moments of collecting yourself — tears still visible in the corners of your eyes and on the apples of your cheeks — you spoke.

“don’t. don’t apologise for saying what you mean, heeseung.” heeseung? this was the first time in years you ever called him that; it was always ‘hee’ or ‘seungie’ or ‘baby’ or something of the sorts.

never in his two years of dating you had you called him that, so when it fell off your lips, he knew he’d messed up. big time.

you turned on your heel, walking away into your shared bedroom. he could hear the faint click of a lock and small sobs from the other side, but he knew that he couldn’t get you to talk to him, or even get you to open the door before you calmed down a bit.

── .✦

after about a half hour, he couldn’t take it anymore. he had to at least try to get you to unlock the door.

“y/n?” he knocked softly on the door, his tone soft; knowing how sensitive you could be to words. he knew he made a mistake by saying what he did, and he wanted you to know that too.

he heard a small sniffle come from the other end of the door, and sounds of shuffling footsteps. he breathed out a small sigh of relief when he heard your voice, but not so much at your words “what do you want?” you ask, your tone hurt.

he let out a small sigh, preparing himself for what he was about to say. “look, baby, im so sorry for what I said. I didn’t know what I was saying in my frustration, and i took it out on you.” he looked up when he heard the lock click and the door swing open slightly.

you could hear the guilt and remorse for what he said in his voice, and it melted you. it was taking all you had in you not to just kiss the pout off his lips, but you tried to hold onto your urges for a moment.

“you know you hurt me, right?”

he nodded, finally daring to meet your gaze. that was it, that was your breaking point. the way his bambi eyes were a bit bigger and the way his lips contracted into a small pout we’re just too cute for you to not kiss him then and there.

you pulled him towards you by wrapping your arms around his neck and crashed your lips onto his, all your anger and resentment towards him gone in a matter of seconds.

he was a bit taken aback, but still melted into the kiss quickly, kissing you back with the same passion you gave him.

he pulled away after a moment, a smirk forming on his lips. “still mad?”

“hmm, I think one more kiss should do the trick” you giggled, pulling him in again…

[sugaryplum]

LENKA'S ULTIMATE FICS HALL OF FAME ༉‧₊˚.

i’ve been reading fics on tumblr for a whileeeee. many years. i went through many phases, celebrity crushes, fictional crushes and obviously, fics related to them. only some stuck with me through all this time and well, here there are!!

what’s important, i’ve done this type of post before only with theodore nott in mind. i was asked by anon to recommend some more so here you can find him, as well as many different characters across many films, books, tv shows, genres. i lowkey recommend reading most of them honestly, even if you don’t know the characters. some are just in alternate universes so the name or context of the character doesn’t really matter :)

i’m picky and particular with fics so i promise these are best of the best 🤍 well written, in character, super cute all that. and like 80 percent is fluff

SO have a lovely time reading!! let’s start

(if i tagged a character and there's no section for them, they're for sure down at the bottom in "misc" – with poe dameron, regulus black, scorpius malfoy, jake peralta and some more <3)

spencer reid

i love baby steps by @sinfulspencer !!!!! i love domestic spencer

also can't let go by the same author i remember being lovely

fluffy cute ass blurb by @tinyluvs

asleep spence by @in-another-april <3

i looooveee @radiant-reid ! for example this little fic

and this omg

oh and these season 7/8 headcanons!!

theodore nott

i might accidentally repeat myself from my theo recs post, sorry:( most of them should be new recs though

speaking of repeating myself, first i'd like to repeat myself on purpose. if @artytaeh has no fans i am dead, i swear to goddd. i stand by what i said last time. best characterisation of theo, everything seems like it's made with so much care, no misses in the masterlist. read it alllllll

i mentioned veryberryjelly in my last theo recs too. here are some more of my favourites :) this and also this i ordered hehe. also i don't remember if last time i linked blair witch or tangled in lights so here you get them both

little dragon by @retrobutterflies super so very sweet

i remember the cat chronicles by @obsessedwithcelesteare being very cute 🌟 i love theo + cats combo always 

like a moth to a flame by @julesinsummer angsty!!!!! but so good

honestly i'm pretty sure i talked about it in theo recs already but in case i haven't you need to read this by @agirlsguidetolove

i remember loving fools by @luv4freddie !!! cute

this by @darkmagic-s was super silly and fun i love silly and fun things yayay

i for sure i talked about @cassiopeiasdaughter but did i talk about mirrorball specifically? i requested this and i loooveee it

this unhinged smut by @theostrophywife i love i stan

also silly little smut hcs by @sucka4thepuss hehe, most of them i agree i love em

😣😣😣<3😣

alright done with this smut section just this too let me link

cute and silly reminders of marriage thing by

@wordsarelife made this cute thing that lol im like 70% sure i may have requested???? and the ask looks like something i would ask for hehe

@suugarbabe makes really good stuff :)

cedric diggory

golden by @sapphicwhxre (love the username btw) might be my favourite cedric fic? first date cedric loooooveee

plain sight by @softboyluvr too oh my god! love this as a scenario

rainy summers as well as just you by @mirclealignr i think im just all for pure cedric diggory fluff (well written too!)

godsend by @pariahsparadise with sick reader super very sweet

@mistress-riddle made this lovely thing (and she's also btw soooooooo unbelievebly great with tom riddle fics if thats your cup of tea, i love all of them)

ced yule ball hcs by @styleswithaseaview are so sweet and there are also lovely petnames ones by the same author <3

cuuuute girldad!ced called pigtails by @mayabooowrites

post hogwarts cedric just so so so sweet by @iliveiloveiwrite, here's lighthearted domesticity

misc (all the other characters)

there's a bunch of my phases passed a long long time ago but some fics are just waaay too good to not keep rereading and recommending them. i think they're all pretty universal and can be imagined with anyone as the main love interest so please read them even if you don't know the character. and DON'T judge me ;(((( for the characters !!! i'm exposing myself enough. these were found by young me from a long while ago

this by @wizkiddx is the sweetest ever tom holland blurb about how he's a clumsy mess trying to measure reader's ring size while she's asleep

i think destined by @thirst-refinery is the cutest soulmate au made, even though i don't think the story was ever finished? but i love it still and honestly i am very not ashamed to be in love with poe dameron

black leader shutting up by @starryeyedstories also greattttt poe dameron fic

clingy fluffy sugary sweet scorpius malfoy in dinner by @blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms <3

🤎🤎 regulus black bunch :) here and here as well as here and here

....or maybe i just love timothee chalamet? like here and also here and definitely here

out of my hamilton phase a few years ago came out my love for this fic which might be one of my favourites ever, i legit have this text copied to my notes just in case it ever gets deleted

my alex turner moment was brief but so fun

OH AND this long jake peralta fic by @ongaku-ato-kakikomi is oh my god SOOO much fun please read it

also another poe dameron fic, this one is so good, by @absolutelyfizzing, kind of angsty also!!!!

DALI ON TUESDAY charlie dalton fic by @rostovs-loveralso one of my favourite things on this whole app. love love love love

YAY THATS ALL. this took so long. you've got my whole collection now. all of the all time favourites and more. love love you, hope you love reading them as much as i did<3🌜🌟👼 night night