#the end pt III

[angeart]

I would just like it known that it is entirely unfair that you (and Link!) are so good at both writing and art!

And I wanna know all about that cabin and that breakdown you teased in the tags

And I wanna if lil sheep has a name they're so cute I want one :3

-🎀

we use our talents to deliver angst, it's great. (also also //// thankyouu <3)

i'll tell you about the cabin!! and the breakdown!! i'm so easily swayed. so happy you are taking the bite every time. soooo happy you're encouraging and excited and curious. <3333 might take me some time to make a mini ramble about that but i def want to!! so look out for that :3

(i started writing rescue rambles part 3 but might not be able to finish it today, but but but, i'm working on it! that'll also be fun, promise!)

the sheep doesn't have a name! she just watches and keeps me company. i love her.

[rainbow-arrow]

please appreciate my attempt at this tracklist. can you guess which one i made Last

(wanna try? ajr linked it on facebook: AJR | The Maybe Man (ajrbrothers.com)

[slowandsweet]

Black coffee X Kings Of Tomorrow Time marches on never ending, time keeps its own time, Here we stand at beginning, and then goes passing us by, And I, I, I can dream for us all, I hope I'm in a better state, When here and now crumbles and falls and you, you, you who make worlds collide I knew you'd come knocking one day, unannounced like a thief in the night.Where do we go from here, time ain't nothing but time, I now have no fear of my fears And no more tears to cry, tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow means nothing at all If we don't hear the line, when today places its call, and morning, morning, morning Won't ever be the same, now I won't make the same mistakes, time and time again time and time again time and time again time and time again time and time againSo tell me how do you do Finally I meet you You don't know what I've been through, waiting and wondering about you I had a dream my trip would end at you, and now I know paradise.Time marches on never ending, time keeps its own time, Here we stand at beginning, and then goes passing us by, And I, I, I can dream for us all, I hope I'm in a better state, When here and now crumbles and falls and you, you, you who make worlds collide I knew you'd come knocking one day, unannounced like a thief in the night.So tell me how do you do Finally I meet you You don't know what I've been through, waiting and wondering about you I had a dream my trip would end at you, and now I know paradise.So tell me how do you do Finally I meet you You don't know what I've been through, waiting and wondering about you I had a dream my trip would end at you, and now I know paradise.

[cherryheairt]

Hidden Truths

Cregan x Wife!reader

pt. 1

named reader (aye-leese) no description, from house Glover.

summary - Cregan comes home from war with a scandalous surprise, much to the horror of his wife. Though, it is not all that she expected when she heard of her husband's infidelity.

Inspired by Ned and Catelyn Stark (obviously lol)

It had been four moons since Cregan Stark returned from King's Landing, ending the war and placing Aegon iii on the Iron Throne. Four moons since he presented his bastard for all to see, declaring to his wife that they would raise the boy as a legitimized Stark.

Aelys Glover, now Stark, had never thought her husband would betray her in such a brutal way. To bed another woman down in the South, in a time of war, to father a bastard. To give the bastard his Stark name.

She hadn't even had her first babe yet, due to the young couple deciding to spend their first few years of marriage having each other all to themselves. Had it all been a lie from Cregan? A masterful deceit to make his mistress' son his heir? Perhaps he had regretted their marriage and chosen to disregard any of her future children, thinking her genetics undesirable. Whatever dull excuse he had, it would never be enough to balm her heart.

People whispered about which mother's son might be Cregan's heir apparent.

It was not yet decided, and would not be until years ahead when Aelys showed if she could bear him more sons or not. Until she did, Brandon Stark would be Cregan's unofficially heir as his eldest son.

Aelys had refused to share a bed with Cregan since the night he returned. She would not perform her marital duties anymore, not until she was either dead or he forced her, which she knew he at least had the honor to not. Aelys would give him no children of her own, spitefully intending to leave the Stark line to a bastard who would forever be known to the world as such.

She would make it clear that her husband's stupidity would end the Stark's honorable history streak. The babe would be legit, yes, but never trueborn. It was said that bastards were born nasty and cruel, and Aelys had not believed such rumors until she met the babe herself. Her spite grew in spite of her previous kind and understanding nature, driven to hate the babe without knowing him.

Even with the same House name as his father, the boy was nothing like him. He seemed to carry his mother's traits, instead, whoever she was. Dark black hair and even darker eyes to match, though the Northern pale skin Cregan carried had stayed through the genetic battle.

At least Cregan did not bring her home, too. If he had, Aelys would have thrown herself from The Wall in shame and disgrace. She would not be the other woman in her own marriage.

His words when he returned burned at her heart, even now the dust had not settled nor had the fire quelled.

"It was a one-time tryst, I swear this to you. A night of vulnerability, when it got rough in King's Landing." He said, voice strained and undereyes dark with the heavy weight of guilt and responsibility. She'd never felt such an intense urge to hit a man before.

His bastard sister, Sara Snow, a woman whom Aelys had grown to see as her own sister and close confidante, returned from King's Landing a month after her brother.

She looked even worse than her elder brother, who still could barely hold Aelys' eyes when she wordlessly passed him in the halls. She looked gaunt and exhausted, though she claimed that the journey back was tiring. Sighing, Aelys could only welcome her back into the Great Keep to catch up over all that she had missed. Apparently, Sara had stayed in the Riverlands for most of the moons Cregan had hosted in the Crownlands. She was housed by the Blackwoods, becoming fast friends with Alysanne Blackwood and Davos Blackwood, the fierce aunt and nephew who fought together against the Greens.

No useful information about the whore that Cregan had bedded that night, Aelys bitterly thought for a moment. Then, a wave of guilt and regret hit her. It was not Sara's fault for her brother's mistakes. She was truly glad to have the conpany back, seeing as Winterfell had felt cold and emptier now that Cregan was back than it ever had before. She had been avoiding his for these four moons, leaving only a few rooms accessible for her privacy and peace of mind.

She never entered the nursery room's entire hallway. Even when needing something past it, she chose to go the longest possible route to avoid it. She didn't wish to think about the boy more than she already did. She saw him during dinners, being presented to Cregan by his wet nurse before being put down to sleep for the night. Those mere glimpses were plenty to feed her anxious mind.

Today, the adjacent hall towards the Keep's hotsprings was closed. "A few cobblestone in the wall have cracked, m'Lady. You mustn't enter for one might accidentally fall on you." A young servant boy had informed her, thoroughly apologetic as she sighed and headed him. The nursery's hall was the only one that also held the door outside, lest she chose to go all the way around the outside of the keep in this blizzard.

The thought was tempting but childish. Steeling her courage up, Aelys had fixed herself to stride past the door. She could not help the subconscious glance inside, seeing the glimpse of curly black hair laying alone in his crib, but wide awake and almost flailing around in a fuss.

Looking around, Aelys was surprised to see not one attendant or wet nurse. From her experience with babes, they were rarely left alone unless they were sleeping. Even then, some mothers and nurses liked to hover to ensure its safety while unconscious. Aelys stepped into the dim room, finding that Brandon's attention immediately focused on her. He whined out, reaching out grabbing hands toward her. Grimacing, she reached into the crib to lift him up, holding him at a safe distance from her face.

Up close, she could reluctantly admit that the babe was cute. He was well-doted on in the Keep by all the maids and even visiting Lords. Though his parentage was questionable and whispered about, none actually had the courage to ask why the boy had been legitimized so quickly. Aelys guessed it had been the circumstances. Aegon, the new King, was young and suseptible to influence, so legitimizing a bastard like Brandon was done without question.

"What are you fussing on about, you spoiled thing?" She asked, though her tone was soft and gentle. Brandon smiled a gummy smile, face lifting as he reached out again for her. This time, she allowed him to rest on her shoulder as she supported him, gently rocking back and forth as she stood. The faster he was asleep, the faster she could leave without feeling like a monster.

She already had that feeling nagging at her mind too much. Hating a babe took a lot of energy. She knew it was wrongfully placed, but Brandon's very nature and sire had wronged her more. The physical reminder that his father had not loved her.

Soft snores filled the room as she hummed lowly, the vibrations and comforting sound putting the fussy tot to sleep quicker than she had anticipated. Gently placing him back in the cot, she hands gripped the wooden edges harshly, a sharp contrast to her previous touch. Was she betraying herself for not demanding that the babe be taken away? Warded with another great House until she finally had a son? No. Cregan would never allow it, even as Lady of the House she held no true power over the Warden.

Turning, Aelys was met with her husband in the doorway. Silent as a stalking wolf, he leaned against the doorway and looked upon his son and wife with pools of affection. There was a slight gloss to them as she looked closer that she opted to ignore. "Cregan." She greeted curtly, moving to slide past him and speak no more of her presence in the nursery.

"He has a way of melting one's heart, does he not?" He asked, tilting his chin to look down at her. A branch, left out and hanging by Cregan's strong arms. Too bad that she did not need it.

"He disgusts me." She said instead, shouldering past him and continuing back to her rooms. She changed her mind in the few minutes that she spent with the bastard Stark boy. She could stay here no longer, could not bear for her own husband to bring this embodied lie to live in the very home that she did. Wouldn't raise any children to be in their older brother's shadow.

Ignoring the hushed plea from Cregan, Aelys went straight to the Maester's tower. Maester Parek had been a helpful and understanding ear for Aelys to rant to when dealing with arisen problems, whether with her moon blood, achy bones from the cold, or questioning if any ravens had come from mysterious women. None had, as far as she had been told. That is, if Parek had been entirely truthful to his Lady.

Hurriedly knocking on the man's door, it was soon opened after a grunt of physical labor had been heard from the other side. The Maester had always complained about his bad knees and how they were made worse in the winters.

"Lady Stark?" He asked, shocked to see her at midday. It was a rarity, as she usually made her visits in the morning after she broke her fast.

"Maester." She greeted, shifting on her feet. "I need to send a letter, urgently."

"May I ask to whom?" He inquired, earning a solemn nod from the young Lady.

"I'm sorry, Parek. It is private."

"Of course, my Lady. The room is yours." He bowed and left the chambers to occupy himself while she busied herself as well. She immediately made for the small attached room in the tower, made into a raven nest hundreds of years ago. A few perched black birds squaked or raised her heads at the unfamiliar sight curiously, but they were well-trained and did not spook.

Bending over the crickity desk, she quickly drafted a messily-writen yet vague letter.

Father,

Some troubles have come up in Winterfell, and Cregan Stark has advised me to return to House Glover's protection while he deals with matters here. I will be returning swiftly, though the snow will hinder the horse a few days.

See you soon,

your dearest Aelys.

As soon as she finished, she hastily melted the powder blue wax and sealed the direwolf sigil onto the rolled paper. Tying the scroll to a raven's foot, Aelys sent it off. The bird would reach House Glover's Maester quickly, and in the meantime she would ready herself for departure.

As she was shoving clothes and pelts into various bags, the very ones that carried her belongings to Winterfell over two years ago, Aelys could not stop the hot, angry tears that fell to her cheeks. Wiping away at her face with scruffy sleeve fur, gifted to her by Cregan himself, Aelys felt the frustration and loneliness sting at her soul. The loneliness was a choice on her part, most would say. That she was dramatic and most Lords sired bastards. She should be grateful he did not bring the mother back, too, and house her in his home next to his Lady Wife. All whispers she heard from her ladies-in-waiting, whom she immediately dismissed from service upon hearing such impudent things.

She would not be subjected to the humiliation. She wanted love, and she once had it. Oh, she had it. Cregan treated her like a goddess walking amongst humans for the moons they spent together before his leave to King's Landing. If she could not have Cregan's loyalty or love, she would at least find a man who she did not have high expectations for. An older Lord, perhaps, one who just wanted a young and pretty woman to give him final heirs during his last years of life. Aelys would know her role, then, and would live contently knowing she did not love foolishly while expecting faithfulness in return.

First, this marriage had to be annuled. In Lord Glover's home, she could easily ask for such a thing. The marriage had been commsumated, but there were no witnesses and no babes to confirm this to outsiders. Aelys would simply have to claim that she and Lord Stark never once bedded before he left to find another woman, and then she'd be an unmarried Lady once more. A Glover, not a Stark.

She realized she'd been quite fastidious in her packing. Unlike her carriage ride to Winterfell, her luggage could not be carried easily on one horse. She picked only one of her bags, with the thickest dresses and warmest pelts she had, rushing out of the room while clipping a cloak over her shoulders. Dark blue in color, Aelys almost cursed at the thought that almost all of her wardrobe and fine things had been gifts from Cregan. Her pelts, gloves, and even the horse that she would take home.

Cobalt, she had named the steed, noticing how his pure black coat almost gleamed blue in certain lights. Cregan had a wide and cherishing smile on his face as he walked the young stallion out of the stables a few days after their wedding. They often took walks on trails in the Wolfswood together on horseback, just their muffled conversations filling the still air. She remembered every moment with her husband fondly before he tarnished everything. Now, she knew all of it to be a facade, just like any other Lord in Westeros might have done. At least other men had the decency to be nasty plain to your face, unlike the Stark.

Aelys sneaked into the armory to pick up a few extra things, knowing no one would occupy the room when the whether was so unfortunate.

Striding towards the stables with squinted eyes, Aelys shivered at the temperature change. Luckily, the journey would be quick, with only a few days to walk on horseback. Cobalt was a resilient horse built for such harsh weather, and she was a Northern woman through and through.

She attached the bag and waterskin to Cobalt's saddle after she tacked him up. His long and unruly made quivered in the breeze as the light blizzard raged on as it had been for two days now. It did not deter her. She attached her bow and quiver to the other side to keep weight even, knowing she'd have to hunt for herself during the journey.

Steadying herself on the saddle, Aelys glanced once more at Winterfell's Great Keep, where Cregan was surely in his study or councilroom. She squeezed Colbalt's side lightly to urge the percheron onwards, giving herself no room for second guessing her choices.

At the wall's gate, the two snow-covered men regarded her with weary looks. "My Lady, there is a blizzard—" Ron Frasel told her, ginger brow upturned in question.

"I have eyes, Ron. I will return soon, I have buisness in Winter Town." She said tiredly, not wanting to be interrupted by the men at such an important time. It would not be long before a maid reported her missing.

Ernest, the guard's most frequent partner, inquired gently. "Will you require any assistance, Lady Stark? I'm sure Lord Stark would feel more at ease knowing you are escorted."

"He is fine with me going on my own, it is a short ride." She said curtly, anxious for Cregan to find out about her plan.

Ernest nodded and gestured for the iron gate to be lifted. "Safe travels, my Lady." Before bowing his head politely.

As Aelys walked through the opened gate, she urged Cobalt to a faster trot to create quick distance between her and Winterfell before she set up camp.

Ron shared an uneasy look with Ernest as the woman passed. "Lord Stark has never allowed her out without a guard before." He whispered.

His friend nodded, eyes glancing between her fading figure in the snow and the Keep. "Perhaps we should go see Lord Stark himself, just to be safe."

Ron shivered. "If he finds out we let his wife go into the blizzard without him knowin', who knows what'd happen to us."

"Quickly, then." They were both skidding off towards the Keep with no time to waste.

[thewinter-eden]

insecurity pt. BONUS // bc texts

Title: Insecurity pt III.5 (bonus! I had more angst) Genre: fake texts, friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort Pairing: idol bsf!Chan x fem!reader

Summary: You've been friends with Chan almost as long as you've been in love with him, and you'd do anything to look out for him. Unfortunately, sometimes his fierce protectiveness over his members leaves you wondering about your place and level of importance in his life.

Warnings: more angst before part 4 sorry

notes: again, thank you @ramadiiiisme for the lovely brainstorming and ideas for this entire series you're the best <3

SS: 14

(ignore timestamps)(this Insecurity ended up being so long apparently I have a lot of emotions)

< prev part | final part >

tag list : @amarecerasus @kumariiai @diekleinesuesse @captainchrisstan @0omillo0 @katexstay @younggwingss @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @feetoffthemalfoy @seungminsapuppy @stilldontknowhoiam @hanadulsetaad @idiotmaterial @micr0c0soms @luvv1anime @imeverycliche @luvv1anime @starygw3n @depressedarlling @riri53 @bangchansgirlsblog @skzstannie @sellomaybe

[ariesprincesss]

Super Random Astro Observations :P

View more Astro Observations here🔽

Super Random Astro Observations Pt. II

Super Random Astro Observations Pt. III

Super Random Astro Observations Pt. IV

(Disclaimer, I am not an astrologer just a silly girl that knows a ton of information on astrology🤓)

•When I had my first kiss, I had transit asteroid kiss (8267) conjuct my chart ruler & also my natal kiss conjuct transit moon & mercury.

•i feel like gemini placements are good at customer service jobs (not that they enjoy it) but just because it can be easy for you to switch the personality “on” when you need to communicate with others.

•when i had an event that happened to me that literally changed the course of my life through a mental (good) shift that led to me changing how i looked/wanted to look physically, i had pluto in the 1st house & also sun, vertex, & venus in the 8th house in my lunar return chart.

•as a someone with both capricorn moon & 4h pluto i have a hard time believing that these placements always indicate something bad. i’ve seen a lot of fear mongering regarding both, however for me it manifests as having a hardworking mother with a prominent job🤷🏾‍♀️

•i’ve had sooo many situationships with 7h moons & each one basically ended up bad LMAO but during they treated me perfectly??? #lovebombers. my 5h neptune can’t help but love u guys.😫

•context is SUPER important because i have mars in the 10th house BUT i also have saturn there too. because of that i currently don’t have the clearest image of a real career i want yet :/ this is why it’s def important to take single placement observations w a grain of salt!

•8h synastry where my sun and mercury was in his 8th house the intimacy…oh. my. god. like nothing i’ve ever experienced we never even fully had sex just making out but lord the eye contact ,the breathing…amazing and very intense .

•my name asteroid was in a partners 1st house in their lunar return chart conjuct sun & mercury when we met , had an instant connection & talked all day to night !!

•neptune, saturn, & north node in 7th house lunar return chart my dating life was HORRIBLE but from it i finally became aware of horrible patterns that i allowed in my dating life.

•transit moon conjuct natal 9h venus when i went on a tropical vacation to an island!!

[moonlight-records]

Rich Boys Don't Have Hearts | LN4 (PT. III)

pairing: Jock!Lando Norris x Nerd!Reader

summary: Formula Ivy Academy, or FIA for short, is the most renowned private in the world who takes such a select few. Usually those from wealth with status and secrets and so much to lose. Yet, you are selected to join the FIA on a full scholarship. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain scares a lot students, especially their star athlete who will do anything to protect those he cares about. Though, he didn't expect you to have as much of a...bite to you for a little nobody.

warning: description of panic attack, partying, alcohol consumption, bestie franco, jack a cutie, y/n feeling themselves, lando is PISSED. jealous!lando if you squint!!

fc: none!

wc: 4.5K

a/n: so would y'all hate me if the next few parts are taken from maxton hall??

part 1 | part 2 | current | part 4

You didn’t know a lot about musical theater but in high school you did follow the crowd by finding and listening to the cult classic Heathers and suddenly you felt like you were living ‘Dead Girl Walking’ but only in reverse. Instead of a demon queen deciding to ruin your life socially because you made her look like a fool at a party so you venture out to get fucked by your crush before that happens, instead you get laid by your not crush crush and THEN the demon king decrees what you can assume is your social reputation all because you made a fool of him for trying to bribe you. The only difference between Heathers and you, Heathers is a fictional cult classic where the characters were in a small town while you’re attending the most elite school in the world so one bad word from someone attending and you would actually be done for life. 

God, don’t you just love Fridays?

Your hands start to shake as you look down at your phone. Your stomach twists and your heart is now in your throat. You aren’t sure if you’re going to cry or scream or vomit or all three. You try to take a few deep breaths but you can’t focus on your breathing while your mind runs with so many different scenarios about talking to Lando and none of them end well. Your breathing continues to pick up speed and you feel hot. Your heart is pounding and you think that you’re going down. You gasp for air as you sit up back against your headboard, trying your hardest to calm down but it’s impossible with the impending doom looming in your head. You're shaking violently and you can feel tears rolling down your face as you gasp again for air and a choked sob escapes you so you pull your knees to your chest and hug them tightly, riding out your first panic attack.

After what felt like forever, you finally come down from your panic attack. You take a few deep breaths and now you feel exhausted from the adrenaline drop. Closing your eyes you sniffle before staring at the ceiling and wondering how the hell your life took such a weird turn. Then you remember that you have free will and are not obligated at all to meet with Lando. You silently curse at the ceiling as if Lando could see or hear you before finally making the slow effort to get off the bed. Your legs wobble but you manage to limp your way to the bathroom so you could look decent for Franco’s return. The last thing you need is for Franco to see you like this after the wonderful date you two had. You wash your face before patting your face dry as you look at your face. Your eyes are red and puffy but you could at least pass that off as recovering from the very welcoming overstimulation Franco put you through.

Limping out, you start back to your bed before there’s a knock at your door. You look over your shoulder as fear digs its dagger of ice into your heart and you feel so cold. Your breathing starts to become shorter before you take a deep breath. There is no reason to freak out. There is no reason that Lando should have this effect on you. He was nothing more than the school’s demon king. A demon king that is egotistical, rude, cocky, good for nothing stupid asshole of a player that just needed to leave you alone and let you focus on your studies and– 

“Y/N?”

You feel relief flood through your body when you hear Franco’s voice. Limping over, you crack the door open and smile as you open it enough for Franco to slip in, using the door as a cover, before closing it. “Sorry,” you laugh gently, “kind of hard to walk right now.” You blush when Franco smirks at you. Cheeky bastard, knows exactly what he did. You squeak when Franco swiftly grabs you by your legs and tosses you over his shoulder. “Franco!” You laugh and kick your feet slightly as he carries you back to your bed before carefully putting you down before sitting next to you and grabbing the TV remote, flipping through the apps on your tv to find something to turn on.

“Where’d you go?” You ask as the realization hits you that you never actually knew where he went. “Hm? Oh, I forgot I promised Liam I’d help him with his Spanish homework so I had him meet me in the lobby so we could work on it. He did most of it and honestly doesn’t give himself enough credit so it was pretty short.” Smiling sheepishly at you, “apologies. I thought I told you before I left but it seems you were still a bit dazed. I should’ve stayed to make sure you were much more present.” Your heart melts as Franco talks and you gently nudge his shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up. You went above and beyond during the aftercare. Truly, I just zoned out and completely missed that bit of information. That was on me.” You smile up at Franco leaning onto his shoulder for a moment before leaning back, “but I’m glad it went well! Did you find anything…interesting while talking to Liam?” You glance at Franco with your eyebrow raised.

Franco glances at you and breaks out into a grin. “Put something on.” Franco passes you the remote and you end up putting Spotify on and letting your playlist be a shield. Shifting, you and Franco face each other as you grab a pillow, pulling your knees up to your chest hugging your pillow with a grin. “So? What did you find out??” You see Franco shifting to get comfortable and how he was taking his sweet time and you groan, “Come on Franco! The suspense is killing me!”

“Sorry! I’m trying to figure out where I want to start,” Franco finally gets comfortable as you lean forward. “Let’s start with the biggest lore I found.” Franco takes a deep breath as he puts his hands together, “I have to take Lewis Hamilton off of my roster.” You gasp loudly and lean back in utter shock at this revelation. “What?! Are you serious???” You watch Franco nod mutely and dramatically pretend to wipe an invisible tear away. “Just yesterday you were so stressed about being near him and now he’s off the roster? What changed? What does Liam know that would take Sir Lewis Hamilton of all people off the roster?” You tilt your head as Franco leans forward and reaches for your hands. “Let me hold your hands while I tell you this.” Gently squeezing your hands, “...Charles has a date with Lewis–”

“CHARLES WHAT?!”

“Y/N!” Franco chides playfully at the sudden raise in volume. You let go of Franco’s hand to cover your mouth, “sorry! Sorry! I’m just–I was just texting Charles! He never fucking told me he got a date with Lewis Hamilton.” You reveal. “Oh? Were you talking about…me?” Franco grins as you blush and huff, laughing while you shake your head and speak, “that’s not important right now! We’re on Lewis having a date with Charles and that in turn having you take Lewis off your roster! Stay focused.” 

Holding his hands up, “right.” Franco says. He sighs softly as his shoulder deflates and leans back against your headboard, “I like Charles. I do, I have so much respect for him as a person and a student and especially as a teammate so it feels…wrong almost to keep Lewis on my roster since Charles seems so happy to have this date. I was already pushing it by keeping Lewis on knowing Charles has the biggest crush on him,” Franco murmurs. Which makes sense. You nod slowly, “so you took Lewis off since you suspect that he’ll be off the market?” Franco nods as he leans forward, “yes. That is exactly why. Also, before you ask, Liam found out because he overheard Charles talking to Carlos about it while they were in English together.” You shake your head and laugh because oh dear Charles. Horrible at keeping his mouth shut. 

“I can’t believe him. Such a chatterbox but I’m proud of him! Can’t believe he didn’t fucking tell me–” you grab your phone and see about 20+ messages from Charles and reading the preview, you put your lips together. “False alarm, he texted me about it I just didn’t answer.” That gets Franco to laugh and you join in the laughter. “Oh Y/N, please never change.” Franco grins at you while you giggle. “Also, do you want to come with me tonight to Beta Kappa Alpine? Liam said they’re throwing a party tonight and it should be fun but not wild since it’s Alpine throwing the party. Most people are going to head to Alpha Delta Red Bull’s party tonight.”

You stare at Franco and blink. A party. A party at Alpine’s frat house. Tonight. While Red Bull is having their own frat party and everybody who was anybody was going to go to Red Bull and party like rockstars or try to anyway. You weren’t really the one to party or go out but tonight would be different.

“Sure!” You smile happily at Franco, “I would love to go to Alpine’s party with you.”

“Wonderful! I can show you what a fun night looks like and you can actually enjoy a night that’s not studying and homework,” Franco grins clapping his hands together, “oh! In honor of it being October, they’re doing themed parties leading up to Halloween. Tonight is sports themed so,” Franco is climbing off the bed and gathering his things as he says, “I can lend you one of my jersey’s for tonight when we pregame?”

“...Pregame?” You question.

Franco looks at you like you’ve grown ten heads. “Y/N. Do you not know what pregaming is?” He laughs out of shock as you shake your head. “Oh my dear sweet Y/N. Don’t worry. I’ll teach you all about pregaming tonight when I come over with my jersey for the party. I’ll be back here around 7. Then we can get ready and pregame and head over to the party, is that okay with you?”

“Perfect.”

“Wonderful, I’ll see you at 7.” Before he leaves, Franco gives you a quick forehead kiss before he’s out the door. 

You let the door shut before falling back into your bed with a sigh. Your first and probably last frat party. At Formula Ivy Academy no less. Picking your phone up, you see that you have about 2 hours to go down a rabbit hole. You think for a moment and decide that you’re going to spend going down the rabbit hole then the second hour calling Charles and demanding answers about his date with Lewis. 

Well, this is certainly one way to go out from a place like this, you guess.

“Oh god, this is horrible.” You cough and gag slightly as the after taste of the cheap vodka Franco bought hits you full force. Putting the glass down, you make a face and gently push it away before turning back to finish your makeup. “Is this the type of alcohol that is going to be at the party tonight?” You look at Franco through your mirror and your face falls into slight horror when he just nods as he fastens his jeans. You look back at your glass and take a deep breath before downing the rest of it and gagging again, “so, is that why you pregame? At least for frat parties? So by the time you arrive you’re already buzzed and won’t have to taste how shitty the alcohol is?” Franco laughs while nodding which is all you need to know that this is exactly the reason why. “Could you pour me another glass? Maybe with a bit more Sprite instead of vodka? I would like to keep my taste buds intact by the end of the night.”

“Oh my dear Y/N, you’ll be lucky to wake up not feeling like death but what’s this?” Franco asks as he comes over and refills your cup. Thankfully, Franco isn’t that much of a psycho and pours more Sprite than vodka into your cup as your request, “asking for seconds. Y/N, could it be that you’re going to get drunk tonight?” He jokes as he gently hooks his chin over your shoulder as you tickle his nose with your brush before returning to your makeup. “What are you doing and what is that stuff?” 

“It's a shimmer I’m putting on my cheeks.” You explain as you continue. “Make me pop under the lights. You want something?” You tap your brush against the lid of the container before making room on your makeup bench as Franco sits and turns to look at you ready to be shimmery. You smile and put some shimmer on Franco’s cheeks before cleaning up your makeup station. “Perfect.” 

You two take another 45 minutes to yap and drink till both of you are feeling a nice buzz. You then double check you have everything. Phone, wallet, keys, and portable charger. Then checking yourself over in the mirror you take a moment to fix your hair before tying Franco’s away jersey, tucking the excess inward. “Are you sure you won’t be upset if this gets makeup on or messy?” You turn to Franco who simply waves you off because ‘it can be washed’. You shrug before grabbing your jacket and putting it on before the two of you head off to Alpine’s frat.

The walk to the frat house was about 15 minutes from your dorm just a bit off of campus which is filled with chatter between you and Franco. Though, the closer you two get to the frat house the louder the music gets. You typically don’t go out so this is all new to you and you keep losing your train of thought but thankfully, Franco is the least judgemental person. When the house comes into view, you blink at the small line that formed to get inside. “There’s a line?” You ask. 

“Oh, yeah. Almost every frat has one. Same with sororities. Some of the houses aren’t cool with each other or like–a sorority girl slept with her sister’s man or ex so now they’re blacklisted. Sometimes people who have been kicked out try to sneak in so they usually have someone stationed at the door to basically play bouncer.” Franco looks over at you and laughs at the expression on your face. “I know. I know. It’s wild.” 

“Damn…so high school really is neverending,” you murmur and shake your head, “do they have a list?” Franco thinks as he peers around, “it seems so. Though again, Alpine isn’t one of the more popular frats so it’s probably just a small list of who’s blacklisted from all the frats on campus along with their own.” He shrugs a shoulder as you two move up, “besides that they’ll let about anybody in. Even the overflow from Red Bull.” “Really?” The chance of running into Lando went from 90/10 to a solid 50/50 and that makes your stomach turn. “Yeah. It’s a Friday night. College kids are looking for parties, especially with fraternities and sororities.” Franco explains, “so whoever Red Bull rejects will end up here or try to sneak in at Red Bull since they always throw ragers.” Glancing at you, he grins, “those most people haven’t been successful in doing that but there are a few cases.”

Raising a brow, “Yeah?” You ask. “Mr. Colapinto, are you admitting to me that you’ve snuck into Red Bulls raging frat parties before?” You tease softly and grin seeing him blush slightly. “You totally have! Franco!” You giggle as Franco laughs and holds his hands up in mock surrender. “You’ve caught me. Though this was prior to me officially joining the lacrosse team and getting the fast pass into their parties. It does pay to know people around campus though.” He admits with a wink as you two step to the front door. “Which was me just offering to go as a plus one to the pretty sororities girls or offer to play wingman for the frat bros.”

“Well?” You tilt your head. “I haven’t gotten a single negative review.” Franco grins as you two step onto the porch and see Jack is at the door. Jack was in your and Franco’s graduating class and even though you and Jack didn’t really talk, you two were familiar and friendly with each other. Jack pulls Franco into a “bro hug” as they greet each other before Jack offers an arm and you happily accept the side hug. “Y/N! Hey!” Jack grins as you pull away. “Hey Jack. How’s manning the door?” 

“Good! It’s good. I should be done in about ten minutes. It’ll probably get busy in about an hour or two but one of the older brothers will man the door then when all the people who got turned away from Red Bull show up. Most of them will probably be let in but there are a few that might cause issues. They’re more familiar with the history of all the frat drama and stuff than I am, which is fine by me. After the week I had, I would like to drink my week away.” Jack leans in and points. “Drinks and snacks are in the kitchen. Soda’s in the fridge and outside in the cooler along with more drinks. Door to the backyard is in the kitchen. There’s a beer pong table outside as well so head in and have a fun time! I’ll see you soon.”

You nod and smile, thanking Jack before following Franco inside. You watch Franco become a social butterfly by saying hi to everyone (because of course he knew everyone) so you make your way to the kitchen. You make a plate of snacks and a drink for yourself and wow. Maybe you should drop out and become a bartender because you can’t even taste the alcohol in your drink. You enjoy your snacks and drink as the music is playing, glancing up seeing the small DJ station set up on the balcony which surprises you but hey. The music is good, drinks are flowing, and food is great so you have no complaints.

You head outside to play beer pong for the first time when Franco finally makes his way over to you with Jack. The first time you were not the best which resulted in you and Franco losing. Determined to win one game, you played again and again. By the fourth time, you were locked in. Everyone was surprised at how good you were but also cheering you on or teasing their friends about losing to you which had you laughing and joining in with the teasing and very playful trash talking which delightfully surprised everyone.

As the night went on, more people arrived as if on cue. Everyone who didn’t make it into Red Bull was coming to Alpine which meant the party was now in full swing. You always had a drink in your hand while also accepting shots from Franco and/or Jack. You would be pulled back to the beer pong table once in a while when someone needed a last minute partner since word had spread around that you were a killer beer pong player but when you weren’t there, you found yourself on the dance floor not giving a single care in the world. You actually talked to people who you never thought you’d talk to in a million years and for once, it wasn’t awkward. All social standings seemed to have disappeared in Alpine’s frat house. In here, you all were a bunch of young adults partying after a week of classes and stress. 

You don’t remember when you went from buzzed to tipsy but you were thankful for that transition because by 11:30, Alpine was packed. The house became so unbearably hot while everyone was packed together as sardines. It was near fucking impossible to move but by some miracle, you manage to make your way outside. You sip your drink as you enjoy the cool air while glancing. People at the beer pong table, others sitting around and talking at a table. A few walked to the further part of the backyard and you assume it's because they were going to smoke which is confirmed when someone slips past you, saying a soft ‘excuse me’ and you get a whiff of the weed clinging to their clothes. You scrunch your nose as you shift and wow, the world is so dizzy suddenly. You brace yourself on the nearest surface trying to will the world to settle down and it does.

Yet, people come in and out and say hi to you. There’s no weird looks or second glances. Everyone smiles and is friendly to you. Some even stop and chat with you for a few moments. There’s no malice in their words or some malicious intent. For fuck sakes, some of the frat guys actually pass you and smile at you or tell you that you look “really good”. One or two get bold enough to actually flirt with you. All this positive attention is so new to you that it makes your head spin in confusion though you’re still convinced it was mostly the alcohol making the world spin. Still, you soak it all up while standing outside before you finish your drink and deem that you’re done with drinking alcohol for the night. 

Giving yourself a moment, you venture back inside. You try to find Franco, who is currently cozied up with some girl and you squint. It’s hard to make out who exactly he’s with given the dark lighting but when the flashing lights pass over them, you realize it’s the girl he’s been talking nonstop about. When Franco meets your eyes, you give him a bright grin and two thumbs up because yes, you had a small crush on Franco, but he was your best friend first and foremost. Because of that, you wanted nothing but the best for him and if that meant being his cheerleader and keeping yourself entertained while he wooed his crush then so be it. Turning, you make your way into the sea of people to keep yourself entertained when the urge to pee hits. Peeling off into the hallway, you see the line to the bathroom. “Fucking hell.” You murmur.

Glancing back, you think before entering the sea of people to see if you could find Jack and ask if you could use the bathroom upstairs since upstairs was only for the frat members, those sleeping with the frat members, or explicit permission. As you wiggle through the crowd you swear you see Oscar. Looking over, you blink since you don’t see him and think that the alcohol was playing tricks with your head and feeding into your paranoia. Still, your gut twists and you think it’s warning you to leave but you just chalk it up to the alcohol not agreeing with your rising anxiety so you push the thought away. You finally find Jack on the dance floor and make your way over, grabbing his sleeve. “Hey!” You shout over the music to get Jack’s attention. “Can I use the bathroom upstairs? I really gotta pee and I won’t make it on the line!”

“Yeah of course! Do you want me to go with you?”

Your gut says yes Jack should go with you. “No! I’m okay! Just tell me where to go!” You listen to Jack explain when you get upstairs it’s the third door on the left and you thank him before wiggling your way out of the crowd. You stumble slightly when you’re finally free before climbing the stairs slowly but surely. You count the doors before gently knocking and going into the bathroom and see yourself in the mirror and damn. You always thought people were being dramatic when they explain ‘alcohol never hits you till you either stand up or see yourself in the mirror’ but they weren’t kidding. The alcohol really does hit you then as you stare at your reflection and giggle at yourself before turning to the task at hand.

“Someone’s in here!” You shout when there’s a knock on the door as you flush. Washing your hands, you hum gently before turning and trying to find a towel to realize there is no towel. How the hell did the guys survive like this? You shake your hands out slightly into the sink before deciding to grab some toilet paper to dry your hands. Throwing it out, you check yourself over in the mirror once more as the knock on the door sounds like someone pounding. Damn, they must really have to pee. “Okay! Okay!” You say as you fumble to unlock the door before opening it and stopping short when you almost run into the figure. 

The figure is standing there in jeans and a black hoodie with a jacket over it but you can tell by the build that it’s a male for sure. Maybe a frat brother who was coming upstairs to skip the line which was understandable. Your breath catches in your throat when you get a whiff of his cologne and he smells so…sweet. Vanilla, buttercream, and cookies. “Oh I’m so sorry!” You look up at the mysterious figure with a smile. Suddenly you are cold stone sober and your smile falls. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Red Bull was having a party tonight. Everyone was there partying. All the big frats and sororities, all the sports kids and those who deemed popular on campus. The only people at Alpine’s right now were Williams, Haas, Martin, the other smaller frats and sororities, you and Franco and whoever Red Bull turned away. 

Or, these are the only people that should be here tonight.

Yet, green eyes are looking right at you and you try to leave. Though Lando is faster as he easily cages you against the doorframe. “Well. Well. Well.” Lando murmurs slowly as he tilts his head slightly to study you. He looks you once over and his gaze hardens and his face contorts into disgust when it lands on Franco’s jersey but drops the facial expression when his eyes meet yours again. “There you are. You had me on a little hunt for you when you didn’t show up for our chat. I’ll admit, I was…entertained trying to find you. Luckily for me,” he pauses, “and unluckily for you, I have eyes and ears everywhere on this campus.” Bending down, Lando’s face is so painfully close to yours. You can feel his breath on your lips as he speaks.

“Now. Let’s chat. Okay, bunny?”

tags: @norrisleclercf1, @dripostsstuff, @tinyhrry, @formulaho, @green--beanie, @brekkers-whore,

@taliya8346282844eliviahgdajs, @fat-meh, @landossainz, @jaydensluv, @carpediem241108,

@rayaharper, @bookishnerd1132, @asmoothoperator, @loloekie, @kawaiifurychaos,

@st0rmzi3, @eclipsedcherry, @linnygirl09, @ln4-cl16-world, @poppymelonz,

@katiascraft, @fangirl125reader, @hadesnumber1daughter, @annispamz, @su0aveee,

@strawberryy-kiwii, @landorris, @oikarma, @formula1-motogpfan, @plotpal,

@amalialeclerc, @spikershoyo

[amorisxx]

Snickerdoodle pt. iii

(Halloween special)

pairing: Art Donaldson x reader summary: The fall fest rolls around. You and Art are part of the parent committee. An unexpected meeting leads to another moment in a parking lot. warnings: smut 18+, car sex, piv, cheating, description of panic attack word count: 3.6K a/n: This part gives a bit more context to each of their lives. It doesn't really progress the plot very much, but I enjoyed writing it. previous part | next part

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

It’s a Wednesday afternoon. The house is quiet, free of the frenetic energy that children bring. Kaleb is still at school, and you’d taken the day to finish preparing your baked goods for the fall fest on Friday. The only noise to be heard is the sound of Art panting into your ear.

“Oh…f-fuck… please, please.”

Halfway through decorating the sugar cookies, he’d started pressing kisses to the side of your neck. You had tried shooing him off, but it was to no avail.

That’s how you end up pressed against the kitchen counter with your dress bunched up at the hips. One strap is halfway down your arm as Art frantically ruts into you from behind.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans into your neck. 

He has one hand holding your hip in place while his other arm pins your back against his chest. In between thrusts, he uses one hand to greedily palm at your breasts.

When you start clenching around him, Art snakes a hand around to your front. He moves his fingers to where his cock is throbbing inside you. He groans at the wetness that has seeped out of you and collected at his base. You moan when he drags his fingers up to rub desperate circles over your slippery clit.

“Want you to cum, ah, need to feel it baby, please,” he pants.

It isn’t long before you’re throwing your head back and squeezing around him.

Ѽ

“Now, will you please let me finish these cookies?” You huff. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you come over.”

He snorts. “You said you could use the help.”

“Well that’s when I thought you’d actually be of some help.”

He grins at you with lidded eyes.

The truth is Art did come over to help you, but he also came because watching you bake has become one of his favorite things to do. Since the two of you have started seeing each other more often, he’s started spending time at your place during the weekends when Kaleb has to stay with his dad. Though you don’t admit it, he’s noticed that you tend to bake when you’re worried. Art thinks it must take your mind off of things. It’s as if you go on autopilot. You disappear into the task as everything fades to the background. It reminds Art of what tennis used to feel like.

The baking also reminds him of his grandmother. Before she moved to the nursing home, she would always bake cookies for Art when he was young. He’d know because the sweet aroma would fill his nostrils upon entering the front door.

Sometimes, he was able to watch her bake and take in the entire process. It was calming for him to observe all the various steps and pass her different ingredients. He wondered how she knew the exact amount to add, and she’d tell him it was because of “years and years of practice.” Art quickly grew fond of the idea of building something up from scratch. And he learned that through lots of practice, you could make something really sweet.

So, in a way, you remind Art of his grandmother. He doesn’t tell you that though because he doesn’t think that’s the best thing to say to someone he’s just been balls deep inside. He does tell you, however, that he likes seeing you like this.

You look up at him in between adding orange icing to a cookie. Some of the icing spills onto the counter as you tilt your head and furrow your eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

He gestures around the kitchen. “It’s nice, you know, being able to watch you make something.”

Though you’re looking down at the cookie, he sees the smile splitting your lips open. Art leans forward and swipes the icing from the counter with his index finger before popping it into his mouth. He smiles at you around his finger, and you flush as warmth spreads throughout your body.

Ѽ

“Nancy,” you start. “I just finished setting up this entire table. I am not moving all of this again.” You gesture to the spread of homemade cookies, pumpkin shaped cake pops, and pretzel rods dipped and drizzled in orange, black, and purple icing and sprinkles. The cookies themselves were a pain to arrange. You wanted there to be an even number of skull and jack-o’-lantern shaped sugar cookies on each platter. And each cookie needed to be facing forward. You didn’t think you had the patience for some snaggletoothed kid to ask what’s this? And plant their finger right on the cookie only to decide they hate pumpkins and leave it there. 

“Okay!” She says defensively. “I just wonder if it’s such a good idea for the sweets table to be so close to the bouncy house. I wouldn’t want the kids to get sick.”

She turns to assess the giant inflated pumpkin. “I’d say they probably need a good 50 feet to walk and let the cookies settle before they start jumping up and down…don’t you think?”

You stare back blankly at the woman. “You just had me move because you said the smell of the petting zoo might ruin appetites.”

“And it could!” She whips her head back around at you, her blonde bob slapping the side of her face. “Those baby goats are cute, but they don’t smell great hon!”

You fold your arms.

“Alright.” Nancy raises a hand with a shake of her bobble head. “We won’t move,” she relents, “but could you maybe just tell each kid to eat their treats at the table, you know just to make sure they stand around for a couple of minutes before running to the bouncy castle?”

You start to tell her that it’ll be hard to control what a bunch of excited, elementary schoolers do after they get some sugar in them, but decide it’s not worth arguing with her. You glance over at her husband, Frank, who has set out his red and black folding chair next to the drink cooler. She’d instructed him to make sure each kid grabbed one drink at a time because “lord knows we’ll be picking up half full juice boxes all night.” Without so much as a glance, he’d mumbled a well versed “yes honey” and sat in his chair, staring into the distance and scratching his chest.

You decide to take a page out of Frank’s book.

“Sure, Nancy.”

Ѽ

Your table proves to be a popular one. You’re not even halfway through the festival, and most of your cake pops are gone, and the sugar cookies are depleting by the minute. You blame Art for being such a distraction that you didn’t think to bake more cookies just in case. Once he’s done with face painting duty, you plan on letting him have it.

You’re counting how many jack-o’-lantern  cookies are left on the platters when a voice interrupts you.

“I always did love your baking.”

“Chris? What are you doing here?”

Your ex husband is standing in front of you, hands in his pockets as he smiles down at your spread of goodies.

He makes his way over to your side of the table. “My boy practically begged me to come, so of course I had to show up.”

You turn and purse your lips. “Well I hadn’t heard from you so I assumed you weren’t coming. They took your name off the list at the PTA meeting.”

“Dad!”

You look over to see your son barreling towards his father. He laughs reaching out to haul him up into the air. His little pirate hat goes crooked on his head. “You came!”

“Yeah, man, I told you I would!”

They fall into their own conversation as you help serve treats to some other kids that have wandered to the table. Despite your feelings about Chris, you can’t help but smile at the sound of Kaleb’s giggles. You’re glad that his dad’s presence brings him so much joy. You remember a time when you too felt that unyielding happiness around him. That flutter in your belly and the warmth in your chest that can only be characterized as pure, genuine fondness. God, you were so fond of him.

At the time, you thought you could never experience anything better than that. It’s why you agreed to marry him. And why you also agreed to stopping your birth control. Knowing he wanted to start a family with you made you love him even more, because to have a child with someone is to irrevocably tie yourself to that person. Being loved by Chris was your point of reference for so long.

But that was before.

Before he decided you weren’t enough for him, before he decided to be withholding, before he made you feel unlovable. It turns out that having a child with someone isn’t the symbol of unconditional love that you’d believed it was. Once you had removed the rose tinted glasses, you were able to see that love isn’t something that’s promised to you. Even if someone makes that promise to you, the love itself may not endure. You’re not sure how much control Chris really had when it came to loving you. You’re still figuring out what love entails when you’re not with him.

Now, you just hope that Kaleb will never learn what it’s like to not be loved by his father. That he’ll never have to vie for his affections nor his attention. That he will always feel held by his love and not stifled by it.

You feel something poke your hip, jolting you from your thoughts. It’s Kaleb, pressing his plastic pirate’s hook into your side to get your attention. You grab the hook in your hand, reminding him to be mindful of the point. He offers you a sheepish, snaggletoothed smile. “Sorry.”

You sigh and run your hands over his curls before gently tugging his ear. It’s a habitual motion that began when he was a toddler. He could be a little rambunctious, running around the house in nothing but a pull-up to avoid bedtime. When you’d finally catch him, you would ruffle his hair and gently pinch his little ears, calling him a silly monkey. He would erupt into fits of giggles before breaking away again making “ooh-ooh ah-ah” sounds.

Kaleb takes his arm behind his back in an effort to control his hook. “Dad said I can go with him tonight!”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah! Said once this is over we can go have some real fun!”

Chris laughs, patting Kaleb’s shoulder.

“What does that mean? Real fun?” You raise an eyebrow at your ex.

“Oh Christ! I’m just gonna take him to get some ice cream or something,” he says.

“I’m just trying to make sure my son doesn’t pick up any of your…” you look over him from head to toe, “… bad habits.”

He rolls his eyes.

“But yeah, that’s fine,” you sigh. “Do you have the booster seat?”

“Yeah, and it’s the perfect height for him to see the girls at the strip club tonight,” he cracks a smile like it’s the funniest thing ever.

Kaleb catches sight of a classmate and almost knocks his dad over in his haste to run to them. Chris shouts “Be careful!” before glancing over at you and chuckling.

You curl your lip in disgust before turning toward the couple approaching your table and offering them a bright smile. You can feel Chris’ eyes on you as you move to serve them. Once they’ve gone, you turn to him.

“Is there a reason you’re still standing here?”

He chuckles. “How do you know I didn’t want some of your cookies?”

“Okay, well what are you getting?” You ask impatiently.

He doesn’t answer the question. Instead, he runs his thumb over his bottom lip and smirks, “You look really good.”

Your stomach twists.

“I miss you.” He searches your face. “You know that?”

You scoff. “No you don’t,” you say definitively before turning away from him.

You then notice that Art is making his way over to your table. He’s wearing the same black and orange “fall fest committee” shirt that you are, but his figure fills it out much better than you can. His jeans are hanging effortlessly on his hips, and you think that if he hadn’t stuck with tennis all those years, modeling would’ve been a great second option.

Your field of vision gets cut off by your mosquito of an ex husband. You literally swat at him to move away, but he’s still smiling at you.

“Please just get whatever you’re gonna get and leave me alone.”

He reaches for you. “C’mon, baby, don’t be like that.”

You yank your arm out of his reach, sending him a warning glare.

He ignores the warning, stepping closer to you to lean down near your ear. “You know every time I come pick up Kaleb, I just think, God, what will it take for me to get those pretty legs open again?”

A loud smack resounds as his head snaps to the side. You’re gritting your teeth. “Fuck you.”

He holds his cheek from where you’ve smacked him, a tiny smirk etched onto his face.

You point your finger at him. “How dare you? How dare you come to me with this shit! You have a fucking fiancée!” Your hands have started to tremble as your anger rises. “I mean, seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?? You don’t get to treat me the way you did then come here saying shit like that!”

You don’t realize that Art has been standing there. He sees your trembling hands and glassy eyes and subtly positions himself between the two of you. “Is everything okay?”

You’re still glaring at your ex as if daring him to say something else.

Like the coward he is, Chris lowers his voice like he’s talking to a rabid animal. He tells you that you need to calm down before turning to Art. “Yeah, man, everything’s fine.” It’s just like him to make it seem like you’re the one who’s unhinged in the company of outsiders.

Thankfully, Art isn’t just some person.

He fully stands between the two of you, blocking you from Chris’ sight. You hear him say, “yeah well it doesn’t seem like it, man.” The muscles in his back are tense and his shoulders are square.

Chris sounds like he’s about to say something, but Art doesn’t let him finish. “I think you should leave her alone.”

You swallow and look down at your shaky hands willing them to be still.

Chris makes a move to step around Art. His jaw is clenched tight. “Respectfully, I don’t think it’s any of your business.”

Art lets out a humorless laugh. “Yeah. It wasn’t a request,” he says.

A second or two passes by as the two men stare at each other. Chris squints at Art, throws a glance around at you before stepping back with a laugh. He shakes his head assessing the way Art has planted himself in front of you. His eyes drop to where you’re fisting the end of Art’s t-shirt in an attempt to calm your nerves. He mumbles something about not being surprised but continues his retreat. “I’ll drop Kaleb off Sunday night,” he announces over his shoulder.

Once he’s gone, Art turns to you, rubbing his palms down your arms. “Hey,” he bends down to look you in your eyes. “You’re okay.”

It only makes your lip tremble more, the anger from earlier dissipating as something else takes over. Art tells you he’ll be right back. You bring your arms over your chest as your breathing gets heavier. The ruckus in the air is starting to feel suffocating. Your ears are ringing and you begin to feel tingling in your cheeks.

When Art comes back, he has Nancy’s husband, Frank, in tow. He tells him something, but you can’t hear him over the sound of your own heartbeat. You’re gasping for air. You barely pick up Art’s voice saying “come with me.” You let him take your hand and lead you out of the chaos.

Ѽ

The sound of Art’s car door shutting makes you realize that your face has stopped tingling. You blink as your breathing returns to normal and the static-like ringing in your ears fades away. You rub your palms over your fabric covered thighs and take one big breath before exhaling. Something moves in your peripheral vision, and you glance to your left. Art is sitting in the driver’s seat, but most of his upper body is facing you. His soft eyes watch you with a patience that makes you want to cry all over again. You reach for him.

Art immediately pulls you to him, letting you settle in his lap as you wrap your arms around his neck and rest your head on his shoulder. He presses a kiss to your head.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that,” you mumble into his shirt.

“Baby,” he runs a hand over your back.

“No, it was pathetic. I can’t believe I let him get under my skin like that.”

“It was a panic attack. It’s not your fault,” Art murmurs into your hair. “And that’s exactly why he did that. He wanted to get a reaction out of you. Don’t blame yourself.”

You lift your head up to look at him. You search his face. All you find is sincerity.

You brush your thumb over the skin behind his ear and lean in. Your noses gently bump against one another before you’re pressing your lips to his. It’s soft, slow, and deliberate. Art places his palm flat against the small of your back as he returns the kiss with equal tenderness. Through your lips and your tongue, you try to tell Art everything you aren’t able to say with your voice. And if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling you the exact same thing back.

When you bring your hips down to roll against him, Art tells you “we don’t have to.” It’s your turn to tell him that you want this.

You move to the backseat. He peppers quick kisses over you every now and then as you both work to get each other’s pants down. It would probably be quicker to simply take them off one at a time, but you two aren’t thinking properly. Your head is swimming from how bad you need him right now. Once you’ve gotten your jeans off, and Art’s are to his knees, he’s sitting back against the black leather, pulling you with him.

You release a small whimper when his wet mouth attaches to your throat. His forehead knocks against your shoulder as you reach your hands under his shirt. “Off. Please.” He lets out a soft grunt as he complies with your request.

Before he can fully toss the committee shirt to the side, you’re running your hands over his chest. You stop at his nipples, letting your thumb roll over the small buds. Despite his attempt to hold it in, Art moans when you lean down and swirl your tongue around his nipple. It makes his cock jump.

You begin to move against his hard member, seeking out the friction of him bumping against your clit. Art gets his tongue back into your mouth as he reaches under your shirt, pinching your nipples. His lips smack against yours as he brings his hands around to your back. He lets them trace down your spine until they meet the band of your underwear.

Art dips both hands into your panties and smoothes his palms over your cheeks. He grips your ass as he guides you to rock against him. You moan into his mouth before you lift your hips to allow him room to pull his underwear down his thighs.

His dick slaps against his abdomen.

Your mouth waters and your stomach clenches in anticipation. You reach for him, and Art lets you take him in your hand, pumping him one, two, three times before he’s greedily grabbing your hips. He promptly hooks his thumb in the seat of your panties. He uses the leverage to pull them to the side, and you guide his tip to rub against your sticky folds. You moan as you drag it upwards to which Art starts rutting his head against your clit.

Without warning, you press Art’s tip to your opening. He hisses when you start to sink down onto him. With him fully buried in your cunt, you let out a sigh. He wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you to his chest. You two share a kiss as he begins shallowly thrusting into you.

Ѽ

After the both of you have finished, Art doesn’t pull out right away. He keeps you there for a moment telling you he just wants to feel you for a little bit more. Naturally, you don’t protest. The two of you sit within the fogged windows of his car in blissful silence as he lazily strokes your back.

Unfortunately, the shrill ringing of your cellphone punctures that silence.

It’s Nancy.

She asks where you’ve disappeared to, then doesn’t let you respond as she tells you that Frank is at your table which is now empty. They’re going to start cleaning up in about 45 minutes.

When you rejoin the festival, you and Art spot your kids and their friends comparing their various prizes and candy. Standing off to the side is Tashi. She sends you a smile when she notices you. Your stomach drops.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

a/n: As always, let me know what you think <3 my asks are open!

[trashmouth-richie]

➶ pt 1 1/2: DULEX (the gnat) a mid/prequel || emperor geta x reader

➶ 18+ smut 🥀 this takes place somewhere after reader meets caracalla and geta the first night she comes to Palatine Hill and where part one ended.

➶pt i: dulci ut rosa {sweet as a rose🥀 } pt ii: vitiosus + deliciosus

pt iii: frangere me 🥀 pt iv: ad caelum vel infernum, tecum sum

Licking up the hot spend that threatened to spill from your lips, you looked up at your Emperor. Your knees had gotten used to the stone floor, the sand no longer bothering you as it cut through your skin. Geta’s groans were low and guttural, every time. They never swayed, and neither did you as he pumped your mouth full every night. 

His chin was tilted upward giving you a clear view of his thick neck. It resembled a tree trunk, a knob in the center where it bobbed with satisfaction, veining with cords that would tighten when he denied himself the pleasure of release. Some nights were longer than others, but they all started and ended the same way. 

You told him every detail of what Caracalla had said during your evenings with him. Even the minute details of what he nibbled on during the vesperna, which was mostly fish, sucking the bones between his teeth and then using it as a tool to dig out the tender flesh between his gums. 

Geta sometimes laughed at the things you told him. Other times he was angry, brooding beneath that glorious wave of honeypot curls. 

Tonight, he didn’t ask for the secrets immediately on his arrival. Gets simply looked you over from head to toe, and when his eyes finished their feast he turned, cocking his head for you to follow him. 

He walked with hands behind his back as he strolled an inch ahead of you, so close that if your hands and his were loose, they’d touch. He showed you around the palace, paintings with various strokes of colors making up different frescoes along the great walls. All of which made up the Roman Gods. Apollo and Diana in one showcasing the sun and the moon. Neptune, riding a massive stallion, a hurricane in his wake. 

It was exquisite, the different materials used to makeup each piece was fascinating. Geta admired silently, and when he spoke in his native language, you were surprised.

Latin was becoming less and less common, but when he spoke, it rolled off his tongue in eloquence. Pure, unbroken, seductive. Flowing in a way you hadn’t heard in years. You could listen to him for hours.

Further down another corridor led to a great display of busts of Emperors before himself. He paused at one that looked fairly new, the marble uncracked and pristine. Geta, moved his fingers along the base of the heavy stone uttering quietly, “pater meus.”

You stood before the behemoth looking alter, taking in the intricate carvings of the handsome face, one that looked nearly identical to the man staring back at it. Turning towards him you managed,  “Ita, Quomodo mortuus est?” 

A ripple of shock wove like a needle across his face. Geta looked at you before you spoke, “mortuus est ex morbo.” It was no secret that Caracalla and Geta’s father fell ill and died unexpectedly. 

Still, you’d never lost someone close to you before. 

“Me paenitet,” you whispered. Even though Geta was a strange man to understand, you were still sorry for his loss. Emperor Septimius Severus was a great man, powerful and demanding to those around him, but still loved by Rome. 

Geta looked at you with narrowed eyes, “death isn’t feared by warriors, only those who are weak are afraid of what lies beyond our world.” 

He looked as if he would say something else, but he never did, only jerking his head as if to shrug clear his mind before turning on his heel walking quickly the way you came. This time, he walked further ahead of you, his feet slapping the marble floor as he went.  A rolling sensation spurring in his nerves. 

Geta had times of showing brute strength, other times he was almost kind to you, a friend perhaps. But his mind seem to change like the direction of the wind, like he pushed down anything that could possibly make him happy, make him let go.

“Tell me what he’s done on this day,” he suddenly ordered over his shoulder, his voice back to the bark it usually had, “from first light to his chamber.” 

Stumbling over your words you began the lengthy, and extremely boring explanation of how Caracalla had spent his day. Before you could finish and before getting to the closed off corridor, Geta grabbed your arm pulling you down past the massive stone pillars. Into the open.

The humid air hung thick and wet on your skin. The moon was draped with clouds, a poor night for prey. With his finger pointing to the dirt, he motioned for you to kneel, and you looked at him startled. Out here, anyone could see you and report your trickery to one of the generals or worse, to Caracalla. 

Raising his eyebrows in protest, the pieces of the puzzle  seemed to fit as he assembled your hesitation, “No one will see your whore mouth as I fuck it, they are all tucked into their beds, or drunk.” 

Nodding curtly, you obey, slinking to your knees, only to be stopped by his hand and brought back to standing before him. A look you couldn’t place was etched onto his features, as if he was fighting himself in his head, holding himself back. 

Geta had been pissed beyond belief after visit his father’s busy. All he could do was be reminded of how his father left him here to rule with his brother. Caracalla wasn’t fit to be an Emperor. He was barely fit to be anything more than a wet dog. 

Rage had filled his head as he stomped back to the hallway that was tainted with his moans and the slurp of your gags. He wanted to brutalize your mouth, maybe he’d end up knocking out one of your teeth, or bruise your throat so terribly that you couldn’t swallow anything but liquid for a weeks.

But now as you stood before him, he suddenly felt a sense of calm. Geta was always sure of what he wanted, what he desired. Since your arrival, you somehow seemed to put his maddening thoughts at ease. Just seeing your eyes and the way the suffocated moon shone in them… he couldn’t keep this act up much longer. 

“Don’t… don’t move just yet,” he nearly whispered, releasing your arm and moving his fingers across your collarbone. His thumb outlined the marrow beneath the skin, and he moved to the curve of your jaw before placing the pads of his fingers on your lips.

He was right. They felt like the most expensive silk gold could buy, and for the first time in Geta’s life, he wanted to feel them on his own. 

He’d fucked practically all the women of Rome, yet he never allowed them touch him in that way. But watching your lips move when you spoke the native tongue back to him made his cock jump, and his chest tighten. They moved in such a seductionous manner he felt as though he was in a trance. Your voice hypnotized him, your lips the object of his innermost desires.

Without thinking anymore of it, Geta leaned in, aligning his lips to yours, as he melted on the hot humid night beneath the Gods and anyone else to witness— he melted into his first actual kiss. As he pulled away from you, a delicate humming noise tickled his eardrum, a pestering sound, barely audible, something he’d been hearing more and more frequently…

-🔆part 3 is already being written besties

latin translation:

dulex— gnat

pater meus— my father

Ita, Quomodo mortuus est?— yes, how did he die?

mortuus est ex morbo— he died from an illness

me paentit— i’m sorry

☻ taglist: @joejoequinnquinn @fallout-girl219 @hellfireadmin @all-will-be-well-love @anythinggoesemily

@eddiesguitarskills @prestinalove @palomahasenteredthechat @wiltinglovers @razzeith

@workingwndrz @probablyin-bed @songforeddiemunson

[salemoleander]

lost in the dark (Hunger AU) webweave

Created as a tribute to the absolutely incredible fic @definitelynotshouting is writing, up to the current plot beat!

// Sources under readmore //

What is a webweave? Previous art: Third Life | Void Falling | Attempt 33 | Martyn | Limited Life | Nightingale Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | singing songs to the secrets behind my eye | A Hundred Things We Had Not Dreamed Of | solving counting sheep

Pt. 1: Flutter / Valerie Hammond ◆ Sanssouci Palace + The Black Ice Cream Song edit / @mountainqoats ◆ Excerpt from The Average Fourth Grader is a Better Poet Than You (And Me Too) / Hannah Gamble via @blackberryjambaby ◆ of course i bite textpost / @valtsv ◆ Lie Down / Ellen Jenkins ◆ 27 / Daniil Kharms trans. Matvei Yankelevich ◆ Embrace my Soul / Sergio Borga ◆ Color Changing Magic Potion / DirksenCraft ◆ Fragile Bird / @cocoabats ◆ Holding Onto Black Metal / Debra Baxter ◆ Excerpt from III. The Child / Quinn Newell via @voicedwords ◆ Crawler Pot / Rose Schmits ◆ Metamorph / Gunnel Watkins ◆ Untitled eye / Henrik Aa Uldalen ◆ tumblr guide for chad twitter users (real) / @arahir ◆ the best way to solve problems tweet / @wolfpupy

Pt. 2: Reoccurring Nightmare comic / @deep-dark-fears ◆ Knotted Serpentine / Hannah Russell ◆ Garden + Blues in Dallas edit / @mountainqoats ◆ The Watching Moth / Cady Shaye Poorman ◆ NOCTURNAL Series 11 of 20 / Santiago Caruso ◆ Watching Moth / Cady Shaye Poorman ◆ Afterglow / Pei Wang ◆ Sun in an Empty Room + The Young Thousands edit / @mountainqoats ◆ Study for "Mathematics," "The Sciences" / Kenyon Cox ◆ Hard to Swallow / Debra Baxter ◆ Molly Brodak / Molly Brodak via @kafk-a ◆ 02112022, S.T. / @ryebreadgf ◆ Woman with Red Hood / Alice Pike Barney ◆ Come On, Motherfucker, You Survived! / @selfhealingmoments ◆ Excerpt from The Blind Assassin / Margaret Atwood via @flowerytale ◆ Heirloom II / Cindy Rizza

Pt. 3: Excerpt from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock / T.S. Eliot ◆ i love you. i can't tell you / @/tturing (OP altered, original contents linked) ◆ Hope is the Thing - Sunset Flight / Erica Wagner ◆ Poppies + Nova Scotia edit / @mountainqoats ◆ Untitled (open/end) / Debra Baxter ◆ Excerpt from Alive at the End of the World / Saeed Jones via @geryone ◆ Weeping (Lamentacia) / Dezider Toth via @amare-habeo ◆ NOCTURNAL Series 7 of 20 / Santiago Caruso ◆ Fridge Funerary Epitaph / @catilinas ◆ Untitled (Trail of eyes) / @julialepetit ◆ Stained Glass Hellebore, California Poppy, + Poppy / Jessica Saunders ◆ 世界の声が聞こえるとき (When the voice of the world is heard) / Tomohiro Inaba ◆ Still from Don't make me do this again gif / @cibastion ◆ Excerpt from So I Locked Myself Inside a Star for Twenty Years / Jeremy Radin ◆ Excerpt from Invisible Monsters / Chuck Palahniuk via @quotespile ◆ Potion Bottles / Edited from Panel 1 Source

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 2 | stanley pines x f!reader 

summary: a quick look through concerning the early months of your life “married” to stanley pines, particularly centered around moments in the car

warnings (TW): swearing, illegal activities (of course), descriptions of panic/panic attack or general anxiety, alcohol consumption

tags: fluff, early relationship described, pining, very slight angst, affection

notes: i mean, i liked writing part one? so … i’m just gonna keep writing? do what brings you joy and all that jazz. alsooooo im currently unemployed and have too much time on my hands. any feedback is appreciated, seeing as this is the first (second) time i’m publishing online !

edit 8/27/24: hello! below i have linked my new masterlist that contains updated parts to this series, thank you and hope you enjoy!

word count: 3.7k

| masterlist | part iii |

When you reside within the same place as another, you begin to notice particular behaviors. Of course, Stanley had resided in an unquantifiable number of places in the last decade, but he had forgotten what it was like to live alongside someone. 

Forgot about the consideration of messes and manners, and forgot about his socks in corners and cans on bedside tables. These were things he never had to consider when he was confined to a single room and a shared bunk with his brother, but she was different. 

The first couple months he found himself stumbling around her at times. Let her lead through doorways, ask her what she would like for dinner, using odds and ends as a coaster here and there. 

But she was much the same in that way. 

She hadn’t ever had to share her space like this, much less with a man. She fumbled with answers concerning dinner, forgot her delicates in the washer routinely, and had a habit of throwing her feet up on Stanley’s chair when he sat across from her at their poor excuse of a dinner table. 

But this was months ago. 

No, they both had noticed these intricacies about the other and had more or less adapted around them. Laundry was done half-heartedly, a quick combination of their socks and delicates. A calendar made its home on the fridge with scribbles of dinner plans, and her feet were shuffled onto his lap every night, adjusted to fit across his hips. 

But she still leads through most doorways. He would never admit to why. 

There were other, smaller things too. These things made him ache somewhere behind his sternum, and he usually shook them off. 

Small things like how she curled at her end of the couch, or how she brought her face to any page she was scribbling on, always squinting. How she tidied the living room every morning like they would be having guests. How she came to the kitchen every morning, hand outstretched for the mug he had deemed hers. 

He decided to forget about these things. At least some of them that is. 

He knew for a fact that she loved it when he drove the most. She enjoyed the movement of the trees out the window, enjoyed stretching her feet up to his dash (despite his initial protest), and she loved the radio in particular. 

Common law says to keep your eyes on the road, and both hands on the wheel. But it was very hard to conduct when she leaned forward towards the radio, singing under her breath. She was so relaxed here beside him on the long bench in the front of his long-loved car. 

The car had been through hell and back, but he was sure it’d never encountered anything as enchanting as her bellowing singing. It would ring through the car, only ever on the way home, and only ever after a bar visit. The buzz would stray his eyes from wheel and headlights to her, head thrown back singing. 

He swerved on the road more than he cared to admit when she was in the car. The reminder of her safety usually woke him up from his fantasies of her with her head thrown back, with her hair spilling around her, and a flush on her cheeks.

But he rarely kept both hands on the wheel, to begin with anyway. His right arm always flung behind, scrunched on the back part of her seat, itching to find the soft back of her neck. 

Clearing his throat, he adjusted himself in his seat, both hands returning to the wheel. A smile never leaving his face, a laugh rising as she scooted closer, incoherent 70’s BABBA lyrics sung into his right ear. 

He’d admit he likes driving her, in particular, around. 

They had made for town for a handful of differing supplies that day. 

Stanley, Stan, had a bright idea to earn some seasonal money by making the front half of the shack into a tourist attraction. After an explanation of his initial encounter with a group of town folk upon his first couple days in the shack, she had nodded along in agreement. 

They needed money, and the need was only growing of course. 

She was the farthest from a financial advisor, but she knew the reserve of money she had come to town with was dwindling, and with them both diving head-first into Ford’s basement business, the idea of money had seemed trivial, at least to her, those first couple months. 

She knew though that money wasn’t a trivial thing for Stan (Stanley). That he hadn’t had a successful last decade, and that her life strayed from his own background astronomically. 

That was one thing that grated her slightly. How flippantly he spoke of Ford to her, but how he had not shared himself as willingly. It didn’t make him a liar to withhold said information, but the state of Stanley’s (Stan’s) car backseat that first month spoke of a man on the run. 

But he had lit up so differently when he dragged her to the front of the shack's cluttered room. Explaining where things would go, a cash register, a display case, and certain merchandise. She’ll admit to perhaps not completely listening to him at the time, but later she would look back and reflect on how he was unsurprisingly a great salesman. 

He had been so happy, dragging her from corner to corner, painting pictures with words, but he had looked too enchanting for her to really hear it. One hand in his pocket, the other gesturing, and a smile upon his handsome figure. He had reached back out, dragging her back to the front door, hand on the small of her back as he ushered her around. 

It was a dump up here, truly. The one place in the house she hadn’t gotten to scouring for clues yet. She was unsure as to why she left the room untouched at the moment, but she thinks it had a lot to do with the panicked memory of meeting Stan (Stanley), and how the glow of the backroom reflected on his face made her wander in through the front door like a madwoman. 

She made for the car very soon after his explanation, eager to get the supplies he would need to renovate the front of the room. He had beaten her of course, opening and closing the passenger door without so much as a prompt, and making his way to the driver's side. 

The drive into town had been great as always. It was one of those mid-spring days. Wet on the windshield and crisp until 10 a.m. The hardware store served its purpose, as they wandered from aisle to aisle, looking for particular wood stains and sandpaper. 

“Here it is Stanl-” He had come up behind her abruptly. Hand coming up to her mouth, stopping her sentence, flicking his eyes up and down the aisle. 

She turned to face him, an apology already on her lips. But he was already looking down at her, a hidden heat behind his eyes. 

“What did I tell ya, hun?” He whispered it in the space between them. “I told ya, I can’t be that here.” 

He couldn’t be him anywhere anymore, at least not in the light of day. She had tried to shake the old him, but somewhere in the far reaches of her mind, she had a hard time calling him Stan. 

Because she knew it meant he was being Ford, not Lee. And it was hard to lie about anything concerning him, concerning Stanley. 

He sighed, his hand leaving her lips and running through his long hair. “We gotta get outta here anyways. Come along, hun.” A practiced smile reached the corners of his mouth, another lie. 

Unfortunately for his psyche, the cashier wanted to talk their ear off also. 

“Oh hiya, Stanford!” And of course, they knew his brother. 

A smile crawled up his face anyway, making nice like he figured his brother may have done all those months ago. 

“Getting supplies? Any new projects?” 

“Uh nah nah, not at the moment. Looking into renovating parts of the shack for some business right now.” 

“Business? Really? Never took you for much of a businessman.” The cashier continued to bag their samplings of wood stains. “But hey, life takes ya in odd directions sometimes!” 

He tisked. “Don’t I know it buddy.” He shook his head a little, grabbing the bag, peering over his shoulder checking for his smaller shadow. She followed in his wake, slightly downtrodden to have cut their store visit short with her stupid mouth. 

“Oh, Stanford!” The cashier called, but he didn’t turn until she reached for his jacket’s dirty red sleeve, tugging to turn him back. Flushed, he meets the cashier's outstretched hand. 

“The receipt! You always want the receipt.” 

He crushed the receipt in his hand. “Right… right ya, thanks.” 

She followed him back to the car, her hand never leaving his sleeve, brushing her warmth against his slightly shaking palm. He doesn’t forget to open her door or to slam the wood stains and sandpaper into the back of the car. 

The ride back was tense, and not of its usual bravado and fanfare.  He had peeled out of the parking lot all too quickly and regretted it the next moment as he looked over and watched her pale in the passenger seat. 

She didn’t reach for the radio, hands folded on her lap. She didn’t look out her window, as the trees blurred differently under Stanley’s hasty speed. 

Under Stan’s hasty speed. 

He didn’t want this. He didn’t want any of this mess. And he definitely didn’t want to upset her. His arm never met the back of her seat, his knuckles tight around the steering wheel. 

He didn’t think of pulling over until he looked at her halfway home. Ram-rod straight, pale as all hell, and eyes blurry with undescribed grief. 

He cursed under his breath, pulling the car off to the side of the road, gravel underfoot. 

She got like this at times, at his temper. He knew at times he could be loud, that he raised his voice at inconveniences and the T.V. Knew that her lip curled in a particular way when on a very off day, his frustration explodes in her face. He was quick to anger at times, and she was quick to cover. 

He made himself so big in the face of things, but she folded into a different shape when he did. And somewhere in the back of his mind, he prayed she knew that he would never turn his anger to her. That he had raised fists before and spilled blood, but he’d never raise them again unless it was for her, if she would allow it. 

But he doesn't want her to get small in the face of his, well, everything. Because he had been angry at so many things in succession in his life he lost count, and he doesn’t want to lose the part of himself that cared for her in his anger, and he doesn't want her to fold into odd shapes and shadows in the face of him anymore. But above all, he didn’t want the reminder of his father to taint whatever the hell this was. It was bad enough he saw glimpses of him in the passing reflections from time to time.

He loved the fight in her eyes when they spat back and forth sometimes, a sarcastic, fake fight brewing between them. That’s how they both always ended up laughing at the dinner table most nights, and how he felt closer to her most days. His anger was never her responsibility, or her doing. She had never truly upset him once, and the way they played with words back and forth over a meal like an old married couple rattled a few rusty cogs in his brain from time to time. That his anger could at least be amusing, because when she smiled he forgot all about it anyway. 

So he parks the car in Spring and turns to her with his guts in his lap for the first time since he spoke to her that Winter night when he thought his prayers had been answered when she plowed through the shack’s door like a tidal wave. 

“I hate this.” He sighed. “And I can’t stand when you fucking look at me like that.” 

Her lip curled. Fuck fuck fuck. 

“I know.” It wobbled out her mouth. “I ruined the day, I’m sorry.” 

He leans back, his hand meeting the back of her seat. A beat, before he turns to her completely, like he does every night across the dinner table with her feet propped across the entirety of his lap. 

“I don’t want you to apologize to me. You should never have to apologize to me. I don’t want you to, ever fucking think you gotta hand that over to me again. Because you’ve never done anything to upset me doll, not ever.” 

She sniffles, a moment of crisp silence. Spring rain beats on the windows in a mist. A smile comes to her lips, and he sags in relief, anger fading.

“Except when I forget the laundry on the line.” She’s cracking jokes now? 

“Except that ya, because I kinda need socks and underwear mmk?” He laughs only slightly, a tiredness seeping into his posture. 

“I didn’t used to be like this.” 

“Like what?” 

“A bad liar.” He admits. He hadn’t disclosed much of his past to her. He wasn’t ashamed of it much when it came to disclosing his long resume to others, but she made him nervous. And he hadn’t been really, truly, honestly nervous in a long time. So he did what he does best, and he lied. 

“I could buy the shirt off your back from ya in under 10 minutes I swear.” He readjusts in his seat again, hand slowly creeping up the back of her seat still. “I’m a great liar, it’s how I made it from state to state, and the reason I’m not allowed back in Pennsylvania.” 

She laughs truly now. She had figured that was what he was used to. Long trips and longer fibs. She didn’t care much about the morality of it, because when she imagined him somehow corrupt in her mind's eye she remembered him bent over her on the couch, and how it felt to listen to the T.V. fade into the background as he carried her up the stairs. The faintness of her sheets, and the brush of his hand on her hairline. 

“But I can’t lie about this, or at least I'm really fucking bad at it.” He interrupts her thought. “I’m the farthest thing from Stanford Pines.”

“Perhaps you are, Lee.” A name she hadn’t used out loud fell between them. “But no one ever asked you to be him.” 

She realized quickly in her desperation to reassure him that she was also being a hypocrite. It was hard to call him Stan, she realized, but only because she was afraid of hurting him. The memory of Stanford still lived between them, and although they tried to shutter his existence in the basement they both weren’t very good at playing pretend yet. 

But they would need to be. It’d need to be the best con he’d ever pulled, that they had ever pulled. He just wasn’t used to having a partner quite yet. But they needed to be honest now if they were gonna pull it off and bring Stanford home. 

“You don’t need to be him. I know you aren’t him Stanley, and I don’t want you to be.” She paused, considering. “If we are going to do all this though, we need to work together. I-I need to get better, I need to call you Stan, and you need to believe me when I tell you I’m staying for the long haul.” 

He sighs again, readjusting to look over at her. 

“I lived a long time trying to be something great like I thought he was, like I know he is. But I haven’t, I hadn’t, seen him in so long. I don’t know who he is anymore.”

“You both have a surprising lot in common, actually.” She shrugs, a smile coming to her lips in memory. “You both smile the same, and you both doodle the same way, and you both tilt your head to the left when I ask a dumbass question.” 

He laughs at this, a memory of passing scribbles and doodles in class back and forth, and the comic books he would spend all night drawing in their shared room’s lamplight. Some things always stick, at least. 

She bridged the gap of some odd ten years, and he could at least be thankful about that. 

“I just want you to know… Stan. That when I do call you Stan, I mean Stanley- not Stanford.” She shrugs again, nervous. “Because you’re not him, you're right, and if you don’t want me to lie about this one small detail, it can be between us.” 

She had somehow come to the heart of his predicament without much digging. He had worn many hats in his time bouncing from state to state, a conman, a businessman, a thief, and a liar. But he didn’t wanna make her one of those things, and he knew by associating with him she would need to be. Just in the blur of it all, he didn't want to be someone else to her. Not even in name. He wanted there to be honesty between them because otherwise, it wouldn't work. What wouldn’t work? 

He finds resolution in her answer. That he will always be Stanley to her, and Stanford to others, at least for the time being. Oddly intimate, closely personal. He wouldn't linger on the thought.

“You’re right as usual, doll.” A smirk comes to his lips. “Team?” He questions, fist uncurling from the back of her seat, brushing between them to meet for a bump. 

She smiles brightly now, meeting him in the middle. “Team.” 

He sinks in the seat, beat from the emotions of the last hour already. “Okay we need to do something fucking fun now.” 

“Like what?” Amused, she reaches between them to turn the radio back on, sick of the silence in the shell of the car. A hum already on her lips. 

He smiles, a scheme on his lips, a memory playing in his head when he looks at her. 

She flushes, a quick shake of her head. “No, no, no Stan, no I am not doing it no.”

He loves how she fights it but he knows how to get his way with her already, even if it has only been a short six months. Flushed in her seat, and begging him. Fuck. 

All he has to do is fucking smile, with that stupid glint in his eyes. “Yes, ya are!” He taunts, a laugh already bellowing. “You’re driving!” 

“I don’t fucking know how and you know it!” She had been embarrassed to admit it to him that one night, that she had made it this long without a driver’s license, but he had all but said please that night, vying for blackmail from her. He had told her about his kiddy comic books, so she had to fess up to something stupid of equal measure he felt. 

“I’ll teach ya!” 

He was already out his door and around the front of the car, opening her own, and reaching across her lap to unbuckle her from her seat when she continued to shake her head. 

She moved only when he began slipping his hand under her thigh and around her back to move her across the long bench to the front of the wheel. He sometimes forgot about where he put his hands on her, when he was giddy like this. She never minded, though. 

She was still shaking her head when he reached back over her to buckle her into her new spot behind the wheel, laughing all the way. Amused by her protest of this simple thing. Only amused, because he knew deep down she was actually okay with it. Another fake fight ongoing between them, some old cogs moving in his head. 

He moved back some, but resided half in the passenger seat and half in the middle, his big hand on her thigh. Fuck. 

He leaned down (Fuck), his other hand pointing at things she should have been paying attention to. This is like the shack all over again. 

He looked back at her, even more amused by her flustered face, and repeated himself like he knew what was going on in her head. Because, well, he kinda did. 

“This is the petal to the right, and the break to the left, doll.” He brings his hand back to the wheel. “This stick on the left is the turn signal, and this stick on the right is the shifter.” 

She began to breath again when he moved away, but he was still chuckling through ever sentence of course. Too handsome for his own good.

“Now all ya gotta do, doll, is shift from park to drive, but put ur foot on the break first.” 

“Uh… this one?” She put her left foot on the left most pedal. 

He squeezed her thigh, goddamnit, leaning back into her to basically physically move her foot. 

“No, no, ya gotta only use your right foot. You can’t use both.” 

“Why not?” 

He shrugs, tilting his head left at her dumbass question. “Because I said so.” He laughs again, hand still very warm and very present. 

“Okay, okay… okay.”

He nods. “Okay okay okay, now just shift the right rod up here.” He grabs her hand, bringing it up and showing her the different gears and how to count through them. Forgetting himself in his amusement, hand still on her fucking thigh. 

He laughs all the way home, and she thinks it’s worth the constant breaking she does in the middle of the road when she gets spooked by the speed of the car. The road is luckily empty, and the radio is drowned out by Stan’s commentary. She doesn’t mind the jabs at her newfound skill, and he takes jabs right back when she slams the break particularly hard and his head gets precariously close to the dash. She doubles over at that one, amused by the sudden shock on his face, but quickly distracted by the hand still on her fucking thigh. He thinks she looks nice like that, behind his wheel. 

They make it back to the shack in one piece, but he’s the one that has to reach over to shift the car back into park. 

He realizes when he looks back over at her, that he had forgotten his anger a while ago, and that his hand had made a new home on the soft of the back of her neck, moving from her thigh when he shifted gears. 

He would let her drive again, if it meant this. 

She’d admit she likes driving him, in particular, around. 

He’d just need to stock up on brake pads. 

[megumishotgf]

more and more (jjk mainly) fic recs (pt. iii)♡

hello and welcome to more of my fic recs!! credit to all these talented writers, pls check out their other works too!! featuring: (jjk) megumi, yuuji, satoru, suguru, toji (mha) katuski (lmao just for the one post because it NEEDED to be shared) masterlist recs pt. i pt. ii

: ̗̀➛ megumi fushiguro x reader

megumi thinks about how whipped (he is while impatiently waiting for you to text back)

fucking megumi in his baseball uniform (lengthier fic with dom! megumi... omg)

sharing a bed and cuddling (so soft i'm crying. i'm unsure if i've linked this before)

racer a.u. w/ bf megumi (in physical agony because i need this)

megumi is obsessed with yuuji's bimbo gf (i love LOVE love bimbo reader fics AHH)

: ̗̀➛ satoru gojo x reader

your kid shows you an ugly drawing (similar to the katsuki scenario i linked last time, so funny!!)

satoru comforts you after you have a nightmare (so fluffy and sweet... i'm bawling)

age gap w/ satoru, he teaches you to fuck (younger reader. god i love this)

satoru proposes to you :(( (i'm crying)

satoru fucking his chubby gf (help my pussy's gone crazy)

more satoru w/ chubby gf (so so much praise)

: ̗̀➛ geto suguru x reader

arguing with then fucking your ex suguru who is now a cult leader (omfg)

suguru fingers you during movie night w/ satoru and shoko (wow this fic definitely hit the spot. one of my favourites on this list)

'no one's made me cum before' (now this is relatable)

you're babysitting nanako + mimiko and are about to fuck their dad (ahhhhhh)

y/n is insecure and can't tell suguru ('it's not what he's made for' some heavy angst for the sick fucks that enjoy it)

step brother! suguru teaches you how to kiss (this damn fandom makes me read so much stepcest. disgusting! *saved immediately*)

suguru wonders if he should cut his hair (fluffy!! but the last line made me want to burst into tears!!)

: ̗̀➛ toji fushiguro x reader

smutty fic w/ crybaby reader (it's me i'm the crybaby. this author has SO many good toji fics, i linked one of their prison bf fics last time!!)

toji is so so big but he makes it fit (major size kink!!)

: ̗̀➛ yuuji itadori x reader

finally fucking roommate! yuuji (i am shocked this doesn't have more likes it was such an incredible read)

virgin! yuuji headcanons (he's just so whiney and such a good boy. omg i love fics where y/n is the more experienced one)

giggly sex drabble (the best type of sex i need more fics like this)

yuuji can't jack off to jennifer lawrence anymore because of YOU! (i think this initiated a yuuji phase for me...)

: ̗̀➛ katsuki bakugou x reader

gq couples quiz w/ katsuki (i am shocked this doesn't have ten thousand likes. it's perfect the characterisation is perfect. pls check out the creator's masterlist here everything is so so good)

multiple characters (jjk drabbles)

using your safe word (satoru + suguru)

boyfriend texts (satoru, suguru, kento, toji, megumi, yuuji, toge + choso)

riding, missionary or doggy? (satoru, suguru, kento, toji, choso. btw the right answer is doggy)

bf texts (satoru, suguru, kento, toji, choso, megumi, toge + yuuji)

unholy drabbles!! (toji, satoru + kento)

cute texts during your period!! (satoru, choso, toji, megumi, yuuji, toge)

: ̗̀➛ also multiple characters (drabbles w/ unspecified names then characters listed at the end? i don't know how to describe this sorry lol)

eating you out sloppily omg (aot + jjk + genshin + demon slayer)

tits, ass or thighs? (bleach + jjk + jjba + one piece + csm)

men that are obsessed with thick women (jjk + kny + aot + tokyo revengers)

general fucking headcanons (jjk + aot + haikyuu + tokyo revengers + genshin + sk8 + csm)

quick question!! should i still link the really successful fics / blogs (like 4k+ notes, some have up to 15k!!), as i'm sure you will have already encountered them in their respective tags? in other words, should i focus on linking fics that are less interacted with? pls let me know <3

[cheol-e-kat]

• no blueberries, feat. mingyu, pt. 1 •

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader

mentioned: seungcheol, joshua, vernon, christian yu (dpr ian in part ii)

word count: 4.1K

genre: fake dating, college au, college student!mingyu, college student!reader, fluff, f2l, idiots, idiots in love, angst, pining, denial of feelings, etsablished friendship (reader & ian)

summary: mingyu was just your lab partner and study buddy for several semesters, but lately things seem to have changed, and maybe everyone else has noticed, but for the most part, neither of you even think about what you are to one another until mingyu asks you to be his 'fake' date for a long weekend trip so he can avoid an ex, the biggest problem is realizing that there's nothing fake about your relationship but when mingyu won't even talk about what you are to each other, you start to think things might be over before they even really start

warnings: explicit language, mentions of anxiety, sexually suggestive situations, drinking, established open relationship

a/n: they are literally idiots in love but they're so dumb they almost don't deserve a happy ending - i am screaming at them ;-; ooof writing part ii...and well, i need to update this with additional characters...oops (if you don't know - i am not a planning writing - i just go where the characters take me - they get their shit together - trust the process) besides it's named for a dpr ian song anyway, might as well include him for his dilf status and the accent

xx kat

[part ii] [part iii]

♡ if you would like to be tagged in my upcoming posts, go [here]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

“please, y/n,” he was definitely begging now. 

she rolled her eyes, “dude, she’s your ex - you’re over her, just go and be normal, okay?” she was a bit annoyed at this point because he was over her, wasn't he, she wondered.

he whined softly, “seriously, just come with me, pretend you’re into me for like four days - i can’t deal with her, you know, alone,” she watched him stare at his textbook, looking fully embarrassed. 

she blinked quickly wondering how she was the friend being enlisted for this - to her they were mainly lab partners and study buddies. she had no clue how he had decided they were close enough to even bring this idea up. but she did feel bad. even as lab partners, she knew his ex was genuinely horrible, as in her entire personality was “gaslight, gate keep, girl boss” - as though those were positive things no less. 

she sighed, “i thought it was kind of a couples thing? since almost everyone is part of a couple,” she trailed off. 

he nodded, “yeah, it is, but she’s going alone - she told someone her whole goal is to fuck me one more time,” he mumbled the last part, blushing hard, “apparently, she ‘misses’ that,” he rolled his eyes, looking miserable. 

even she was shocked to hear that. it was certainly a new low. 

“that’s - that’s really shitty,” she sighed, not knowing what else to say. 

she watched him nod, still staring at his textbook, thumbing the edges of the page. she bit her lip gently, “can i think about it for a bit?”

he nodded, glancing up at her. she couldn’t help but notice how glossy his eyes looked - she worried he was on the verge of crying. she wasn’t equipped to deal with a crying mingyu. happy? sure. drunk? yes. whiny and ridiculous? no problem. 

but to see him on the verge of tearing up because he was worried or stressed or whatever, that was beyond her friendship scope. but to be fair, fake dating probably was too. even if she knew some people did mistake them for a couple. that really wasn’t the point.

the point was the longer they sat there fake studying, she knew what she was going to do. she couldn’t sit back while he went off to a terrible trip to the lake where he might be the target of his ex’s sexcapades. she knew he hadn’t dated since her, which would just be a point againts him - she could easily imagine, ‘oh baby, you haven’t even tried since me?’ - gross, she thought. besides, if he were gone for the break, she wasn’t really sure what she would do anyway. 

the standard was for them to study friday afternoon, and then they would usually met up at a party or something and would duck out for food when either of them got bored and go back to y/n's to watch tv and pass out. saturday was fairly similar, but sunday was more like study, and then they kind of always ordered food and watched tv or something. sometimes he slept on the couch - something her roommate would roll her eyes at whenever possible, espeically since ‘sometimes’ seemed to translate to almost every sunday. 

she had finally told him to just bring clothes so he would't be late for monday morning practices anymore. her roommate had wondered loudly why mingyu didn't just move into y/n's room and get a tiny corner of the closet already. she had ignored that unnecessary commentary. 

she groaned inwardly, “okay, fine - i’ll go with you, but you owe me,” you whispered. 

he glanced up, “really?”

she ignored that he sounded a little too happy and nodded, “yes, if it means you can avoid her insanity for the long weekend,” she tried to feel confident about the decision. 

luckily, she knew there was nothing between them. they’re only lab partners and maybe friends, at best, she tried to assure herself and ignore every other thought she had. 

⋆˙⟡

she truly hated packing for anything, and this trip was no exception. the only slight difference was mingyu hanging out on her bed while she packed this time. she wasn’t sure if he was nervous or what, but he kept shifting around on her bed - it reminded her of a puppy rolling around in the hope that someone would rub its stomach. she tried not to laugh at the mental image of him rolling around in search of belly rubs. instead, she tried to focus on what to pack. 

it was still warm enough to go swimming, despite the fact that it was ‘fall’ break, so she tried to decide on swimsuits. ultimately, she just packed them all - they were basically underwear anyway, she reasoned. 

“are we sharing a room?”

“yeah, you know, since we’re together and ‘finally admitting it’ - is that really what jeonghan said?” he asked. he had been annoyed about that response for at least two hours. 

“i literally showed you his text,” she mumbled as she hunted for friends-who-are-fake-dating appropriate sleepwear, aka her most oversized tshirts, sleep shorts that were as un-sexy as possible, and a few sweatshirts in case it was cold.

he sighed, “okay, but that’s such a flippant answer,” he complained. 

she snorted, “‘flippant’?”

“yes!”

she grinned, wondering when he started using words like ‘flippant’ in normal conversations. mingyu was one of those guys who she hadn’t taken seriously when she first met him - he was fun at parties, but when he wanted to study together, she had been seriously skeptical. but then she saw their first exam grades post and realized how well he had ranked. she had wondered if it was just his personality or if he actively worked to hide the fact that he was that smart. 

it hadn’t really mattered though since they had been studying together since then. something she distinctly remembered being an issue for his ex - katie had genuinely hated y/n and wasn’t quiet about it. it was maybe the only time she had seen mingyu fully lose his mind over something - she had never heard the words ‘get fucked’ said quiet so intensely, especially since that they were sitting in the library at the time. 

she sighed, “don’t you think it might be a little obvious for us to show up together?”

“not really - she always said we had some weird thing, so why not let her be right,” his voice was concerningly normal. 

she had been thinking about the fact that it was kind of a petty move. actually, there were loads of reasons she could think of for not going, including almost every scenario from a horror movie - she was not discounting serial killers in masks waiting in the woods. but her main concern was being confronted by katie - it just felt like a needlessly stressful way to spend her fall break.

“okay, but i mean, you couldn’t think of anyone else?"

he sighed, “like who? i hang out with you, i go out with you - you make sense,” his voice was soft, but he still sounded just a little disappointed that she was asking him…again. 

she rolled her eyes, “we could just hang out like normal and avoid this.”

she glanced at him, watching him mull over what she had said and not for the first time either. to be fair, her anxiety was only growing. she left him to go pretend to be discerning about how much of her skincare she was packing, even though she was blindly grabbing everything from her counter. when she walked back into her room, he was sitting up.

“even if she’s there, the trip is just to have fun and not be on campus - you know, a break at joshua’s nice lake house,” he didn’t look at her as he explained. 

she stared for a moment and turned back to her already exploding suitcase, “you only asked me because of her,” she felt like it was very obvious why she was going, but she heard him mumble something, which she ignored. instead, she violently jammed her clothes and toiletries into her bag. 

she absolutely hated that knowing katie would be there made her feel a tiny bit competitive - she had purposefully picked all of her smallest swimsuits - she had even gone to get waxed for this, something she definitely would never admit to anyone. she had even dragged out her status luggage bag - the one her step-mom had given her two christmases ago that made her cringe. there was also the little, tiny mean voice in the back of her mind that had always thought katie had never been good enough for mingyu anyway - she wasn’t especially cute, and her voice drove y/n up the walls - not to mention she was kind of dumb and objectively sucked at beer pong. y/n would also never admit that she used to play them on purpose just to beat them because she was good at beer pong. 

she jumped when mingyu touched her arm, “fuck, what?” 

she hadn’t even noticed that he was lying on his side, watching her jam everything into her bag.

“you don’t have to go,” he whispered. 

she swooped all of her hair off her shoulders in annoyance, mostly because there was something about the way he whispered, with this weird tenderness, that made her feel way too quivery. it wasn’t fair because she knew she never affected him like that. she just shook her head. she was totally fine with everything. plus, she didn’t believe him for a moment that she could just stay. she knew in her gut that she had moved something in their friendship past a boundary that she hadn’t even noticed, and now, she couldn’t just take it back without suffering the consequences. 

⋆˙⟡

she was glad she was driving. she could at least focus on the road, plus they were the ones tasked with stopping at the liquor store, so she only had to deal with mingyu and seungcheol - she only wondered briefly why no one cared that seungcheol was solo for the long weekend. actually, it only annoyed her slightly that mingyu had left that fact out - she knew he could have spent the entire break with seungcheol, no problem, which only made her wonder why he really asked her. worse was her wondering why it seemed to matter that mingyu sounded disappointed at the idea of her not going, accepting but unhappy - not like he had been when she said ‘yes’. 

she walked through the store, mainly looking for the things she wanted. her ideal party weekend was starting her day off with something bubbly and moving on to liquor by lunch. she wasn’t really paying attention to the cases of beer, tequila, and vodka mingyu and seungcheol were collecting. instead, she was in line to pay for her stuff and some edible gummy candies she noticed last minute - she grabbed several of those. she could’ve kicked herself for not asking her roommate’s girlfriend for some weed before she left. she waited next to her car for them to come out, answering a few texts. she ignored the ones from mingyu. she couldn’t help that she was from a family of people who completely avoided their emotions, plus she could see the message preview - it wasn’t anything life-changing. 

when they came out, she wasn’t super shocked by the very full cart or the fact that they practically filled the back of her suv - they had to move their bags into the seat with seungcheol. it was like half the soccer team, their girlfriends, and friends for five nights, after all. the team wasn’t known for holding back at any of their parties - the rule was ‘no empties.’ she could only hope that the people getting food were grabbing enough to balance everything out. 

the rest of the drive was uneventful. it was pretty though - even if it still looked like summer and not a bit like fall. 

the house was a massive hunk of glass overlooking the lake. everything was very modern and sleek inside. she had been imagining something a little more cozy, less brutal. but that didn’t really matter, especially when they started divvying up the rooms - she and mingyu had a room that shared a bathroom with seungcheol’s room. and it hit her immediatly, mingyu was staying in seungcheol’s room. she wasn’t sure why it annoyed her, but it did, especially when she planned to be sharing a room with him. 

she starfished out on the bed - her bed - and decided she would probably go home the next day. there was literally no reason for her to be here, and there probably never had been. also, sharing the bathroom with two whole ass guys just sounded miserable. she sat up after a few moments of moping, remembering the edibles she had - she ate three and dropped back onto the bed. she wasn’t planning on coming out of her room. mingyu could get fucked, she decided. 

it was seungcheol who was leaning over when she woke up with a yelp, “what the fuck?” her heart was pounding. 

he laughed, “sorry, mingyu wondered if you were okay, so i came to check,” he raised an eyebrow, “you seem alive, though,” he concluded.

she rolled her eyes, “thanks for the astute diagnosis, dr. choi,” she murmured and fell back onto the bed.

he laughed, “seriously though, you good?”

she exhaled loudly, “is he like standing in the bathroom or something?”

seungcheol shook his head.

“liar,” she groaned and rolled over, “i’m going home in the morning, so he can stop feeling whatever way he’s feeling.”

seungcheol looked surprised, “you’re just heading back? isn’t this like the first time you’ve like been somewhere together?”

she shrugged, “and?” your annoyance was definitely coming through, loud and clear.

seungcheol nodded, “right, you two have weird vibes, but look, i need him out of my room - my date is here, and i actually want to spend time with her.”

she could only roll her eyes, “so four people and one bathroom - this is only getting better,” she sighed, “i should just go home now.”

seungcheol shrugged, “whatever, just say it’s okay for him to come in here, so he stops whining in my room - it’s seriously killing my mood.”

“okay, whatever, i don’t care.” 

this was truly going downhill as far as she was concerned. and why would mingyu be whining to seungcheol anyway, she wondered. she heard him come into the room, but she didn’t move. even when he sat on the bed, she stayed still. 

“are you really leaving?”

she pressed her lips together, thinking, “probably not, but seriously, why did you even ask me?” 

she had maybe run out of whatever annoyance she had felt before at being woken up out of nowhere, plus her edibles were wearing off. she sat up so she was next to him, “just tell me what this is - like i’m a buffer, right? but you didn’t tell anyone that i was just coming along, you told them we’re dating, and that comes with like expectations,” she trailed off. 

“since when do you care about expectations?”

she wondered if smacking him would be too strong of a reaction. 

this was all such a bad idea. she was going to have a shit weekend and probably lose her friend in the process. 

⋆˙⟡

the rest of the night was uneventful, with everyone filtering in and no one eating at the same time. she grabbed food and something to drink and mostly avoided conversation, especially if it had to do with her and mingyu. 

she also decided if she pretended this was like a retreat, she could just focus on swimming and hiking since, according to her phone, there were some great trails around. and obeying her fake retreat rules, she grabbed some extra water and headed to bed early - she needed to sleep if she was going to go for a sunrise swim. she was glad that she brought a sleep mask and ear plugs.

her only problem was mingyu’s texts. he hadn’t answered her question about why he asked her or explained why he went nuclear and told everyone they were dating. she had thoughts on what was going on, but she was as bad as he was. even lying in bed, in her not sexy at all clothes, her brain was in overdrive thinking about him in ways she didn’t want to be, especially since her phone kept going off. she knew he was thinking about her, even if it was this pretend, fake way - it didn’t matter. she pulled her pillow over her head to try to drown out the telltale buzzing. she refused to check her phone. 

even when she finally heard the sounds of people going to bed. she cringed at the idea of seungcheol fucking. her gut reaction was that man would be loud. 

she heard the footsteps outside their door, “come on mingyu - baby, just come to my room - you know you want to,” she sat up, knowing the voice immediately. 

“no, i told you i’m not” — she heard the sudden wet sounds of a kiss.

“fuck, katie, stop - what are you not hearing?” she could hear the edge in his voice. 

she sighed, she was technically there to help him avoid this kind of thing. she got out of bed and pulled off her sleep shorts, so she was clearly down to just her panties and tshirt, and tossed her sleep mask. 

she walked to the door and opened it slowly, “gyu?” she made sure sleep was thick in her voice, as she pouted up at him adn tugged his shirt sleeve, “come to bed,” she whispered, biting her lower lip gently. 

she didn’t even look at katie, just him.

he looked at her, “hey, baby,” he didn’t miss a beat, pulling away from katie as fast as he could and walking into their room after her, closing and locking the door. 

she walked back over to the bed and flopped back onto the soft mattress, “helpful enough?” she asked. 

the low light from outside was enough for her to see him nod, “sorry we woke you up,” his voice was soft. 

she shook her head, “it’s fine, just come to bed - i want to swim in the morning,” she was already happily back under the duvet. 

he was gone long enough for her to doze, but she opened her eyes when she heard him, “do you literally mean come to bed?”

she turned over and threw the covers back and patted the spot next to her. he still looked uncertain. she sighed and moved so she was on her knees - she grabbed his hand, “how much more of an invitation do you need?”

“you didn’t even check my messages,” his voice was so small - he sounded hurt. 

she tried to find some answer in the way he was looking at her. but there was nothing besides the fact that she had hurt his feelings. ignoring him was the only thing she knew genuinely drove him nuts - he had told her when they were strictly lab partners how much he hated it - how much it annoyed him. she rarely ignored him. but she had tonight, mainly because her own thoughts were kind of fucked, seeing his stream of conciousness texts would have made it worse.

“so let me apologize,” she whispered, pulling his hand gently - it wasn’t lost on her that he was just in his underwear. 

he let her pull him into bed, and she straddled him, reaching down to smooth his hair back from his face, “what hurts, baby?” 

he touched his lips - she nodded, leaning down to kiss him softly. she held his jaw gently and kissed him slowly. she moaned faintly when she felt his hands ghost along her lower back and under her shirt. his hands were so warm, she shivered. she deepened their kiss, tracing her fingers through his hair as she did, loving how soft his hair was. they stayed that way, making out like it was the only thing in the world that mattered. even when she felt one of his hands slide down over the curve of her ass to trace his fingers under the hem of her panties, she didn’t break the kiss. she wasn’t worried about where his hands might wander. there were only so many things he could touch. 

when she finally pulled away to breathe, she still played with his hair, “so, tell me what we’re doing, mingyu - so we both know, please.”

she could feel his hands on the backs of her thighs - he squeezed her thighs lightly, “what we do every weekend, y/n,” his voice was low.

she bit her lip softly, thinking about the weekend before, letting all her memories bubble to the top. her favorite part was the way he had held her back against his chest, leaning down to kiss her while he fucked her from below. 

she shook her head gently, “just say it - tell me the way you told everyone else,” she murmured. 

she waited for anything besides silence before sitting up and shaking her head. she moved to her side of the bed. she didn’t understand how they had gone so fluidly from one thing to another without really talking about it at all. but then again, that was maybe exactly how it happened - they hadn’t called it anything - it was just what they did. and she hadn’t cared about what it was anymore than he had until he brought it up - until he told people what they were. but somehow, that was the fake part - actually calling it a relationship wasn’t real, even though they had clearly been more than friends or anything else for months. 

⋆˙⟡

she went to sleep purely for spite. and when she woke up with her alarm, she slipped out of bed, grabbed her swimsuit and went to change. it was when she walked out of the bathroom and by the bed that she felt him grab her hand gently, “are you really going out?”

she nodded, “yeah, why shouldn’t i do the stuff i want?”

“i didn’t say you shouldn’t,” he let go of her, sighing as he shifted around under the duvet. 

she didn’t repsond, instead, she just grabbed her stuff and went quietly through the house and out the back. she walked along the dock, pausing at the end for a moment before jumping into the cool waters. even when she surfaced, she couldn’t get him out of her mind. she floated, thinking about the fact that whatever they were was only nameless when they were alone. she laughed to herself. 

she got out when she started to feel chilly. she dried off and walked back to the house. she poked around the kitchen to find something for breakfast and some ice - she had kept her own drinks in their room, knowing they would be gone otherwise. 

she went back to their room, bypassing the bed in favor of going onto the balcony they had. she hadn’t looked at it the night before. she only went back in to grab a bottle of champagne. she popped the cork, not really caring that it wasn’t chilled yet. she sipped it before sticking the bottle in the ice she had gotten. she ate fruit and some leftover steak she had found in the fridge. she scrolled through her socials. 

a few of her friends had messaged to ask if she were really dating mingyu - her blanket response was easy, ‘no.’ 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

a/n: told you they are dumb af...trust the process, yes they're about to be messy af...but i only write happy endings

♡ kat

[part ii] [part iii]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

tag list: @syluslittlecrows

if you want to be tagged, go [here] my [master list] if you want to read more

[jburrgf]

ABOUT YOU ; Joe Burrow Mini Series

— from the Love Trope Series

◦pairing: ¡lsu!joe burrow x ¡ex situashionship! reader

◦ summary: you and joe had a thing months before, and everything ended really bad, leaving unfinished business in the air. you guys never talked again, and months after, you see yourself trapped with him in the most important project from your whole universitary career: covering him, on the peach bowl.

◦ trope: second chance romance

◦ playlist:

About You - 1975

Love Me Like You Do - Ellie Golding

Like Real People Do - Hozier

I Bet You Think About Me - Taylor Swift

Called You Again - Taylor Swift

The 1 - Taylor Swift

Tolerate it - Taylor Swift

ImGonnaGetYouBack - Taylor swift

Clean - Taylor Swift

◦ About You (The Love Trope Series) Pt. I: Clean ☼

◦ About You (The Love Trope Series) Pt. Il: All over me ☼

◦ About You (The Love Trope Series) Pt. III: / Bet You Think About Me. ☼

◦ About You (The Love Trope Series) Pt. IV: About You. ☻

[thewinter-eden]

insecurity pt. III // hh texts

Title: Insecurity pt III Genre: fake texts, friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort Pairing: idol bsf!Hyunjin x fem!reader

Summary: Being best friends with Hwang Hyunjin, you're bound to end up in tabloids at some point. But when a dating rumor spreads and is followed by miles upon miles of hate, you have to confront why it bothers you so much.

Warnings: Unrealistic medical condition (probably), Lee Know being a sappy big brother, Lee Know also making an inappropriate joke, Felix Insecurity mention, language, hate messages, some Seonghwa

notes: as always, thank you @ramadiiiisme for the lovely brainstorming and ideas for this entire series you're the best <3

SS: 28

(ignore timestamps)(angst)

< last part | next part >

tag list : @amarecerasus @kumariiai @diekleinesuesse @captainchrisstan @0omillo0 @katexstay @younggwingss @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @feetoffthemalfoy @seungminsapuppy @stilldontknowhoiam @hanadulsetaad @idiotmaterial @micr0c0soms @luvv1anime @imeverycliche @luvv1anime @starygw3n @depressedarlling @riri53 @bangchansgirlsblog @skzstannie @sellomaybe @lailac13 @my-neurodivergent-world @4ng3l-ch1ld @ellelabelle @velvetmoonlght @whokno-ows @ravengxbss @brbwritingfanfic @dearbisky @r1nstaaa @dolphin-scream-s @beewilko @nightshadeblooming @wickedbutlovely @ebnabi @thatgirlangelb @notastraykid @ka0ila @scarlet789 @nightshadeblooming @xdbug-bob

[ariesprincesss]

Super Random Astro Observations Pt. III

view more astro observations here🔽

Super Random Astro Observations

Super Random Astro Observations Pt II

( i am not an astrologer just a silly girl that knows a lot about astrology🤓)

˚✧ lowkey though in my astrology journey ive learned to lower expectations for how you think something can go even if given the “perfect” synastry aspects or soulmate indicators. any of it honestly. lunar return charts do not work perfectly for every month. sometimes even transits aren’t even really felt strongly. what i’m trying to say is see things as opportunities not finalities.

˚✧ this man i know is a leo rising & i swear he looks like this 🦁

˚✧ progressed moon conjuct jupiter when i had a life altering event!

˚✧ transit 8h Northnode conjucted my chart ruler , trine my natal pluto, transit 8h chiron conjuncted my natal sun sun, transit 1h mercury square natal 4h pluto- When I had another life altering event that essentially changed dynamics within how i relate to others in my family.

˚✧ vertex in 8th house in my lunar return chart when i lost my virginity☠️

˚✧ currently have the sun & moon in my 12th house lunar return chart & am absolutely going through it😭😭😭 edit: also going through a mental breakthrough tho which might have something to do with 1h pluto in that same chart so…🙏

˚✧ transit chiron conjuct my natal sun when i was in just the most terrible mood imaginable…

˚✧ transit venus conjuct my natal jupiter the day i met a romantic partner!!

˚✧ i also had vertex ,chiron ,& north node in my 7h lunar return chart when i met them too!

˚✧ okay but the month i had north node and both saturn & neptune retrograding in my 7th house i could not stop thinking ab my ex & eventually ended up texting him😭

˚✧ this is random but is in my head bc ive been watching bob ross videos lately LOL. but i was wondering why he had so much success and after looking at his chart, i feel like like it could possibly be linked to his libra stellium. he had libra mercury, neptune ,& mars. It definitely feels like he would have an ambition for beauty , making something beautiful, an “eye” for beautiful things , or speaking in a beautiful way.

˚✧ i can also say that with south node currently transiting my 1st house as a virgo rising starting literally yesterday i already feel like this weight of feeling like i have to be perfect and appear as such is fading 100%. big on embracing imperfection….🤔

˚✧ so another instance where i had a partners moon square my mercury (their moon was in my 5h) he was like super lovey with me to the point of love bombing , but it just made me feel kind of smothered/awkward when he would make like grand romantic gestures. (his natal moon was also in 7h🫢)

˚✧ a transformative relationship came to me when the asc dc angles were in my natal 1st/7th houses in my lunar return chart!!

˚✧ i definitely recommend doing “solar return synastry charts” between you and those close to you as i think it provides valuable insight on what events occur between you or others in that year! A chart between me and my best friend showed her jupiter in the 10th house squaring my 12h moon, 6h venus ,& 6h saturn in the src.It showed how she has started to work more hours thus having less time to talk to me everyday or as consistently as possible making me feel kind of like :/ bc i want to talk to my bff!!! This showed up 3 months before my birthday so i def agree with solar return energy showing up early.

˚✧ ive said it before but i will say it again when you meet someone of your rising sign they are essentially mirroring you BADDD. especially if you share placements together.