#this is so important to remember and watch

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [9] - Tranquility

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your patience! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Simple days can be calming.

Word Count: 2853

CW: Explicit language, mentions of sex, drinking, adult themes MDNI

Series Masterlist

Well.

This was very fun.

“I mean to repeat, I do have a hammer at home,” you said, leaning your elbows on the cart as you pushed it slowly and Logan raised his brows.

“Just a hammer?”

“Yeah, I wanted to put up that framed picture of me and Theo so Jamie brought it and then forgot it.”

“Exactly why we’re here.”

Home Depot wasn’t really your favorite place to shop in, you couldn’t even remember when the last time you had been there was. Needless to say, you felt a bit overwhelmed as you looked at the aisles with many tools and construction products, but Logan seemed right at home there, and the simple act of going shopping together -whether it was at a store you were familiar with or not- made you feel all warm inside.

Who knew the aftermath of breaking your bed would be fun as well?

Logan grabbed a pack of what seemed like tiny pieces of metal to put it in the cart, and you looked around, then gasped.

“Let’s get these, they look prettier!”

“Screw anchors?”

You tilted your head.

“Well if you feel that strongly about them…”

“No I mean— that’s what they’re called.”

“They’re yellow, I like yellow!” you said, grabbing the pack off the hook to hold it up and Logan chuckled.

“Sweetheart, if we’re going to use them on your bed, they need to be metal. Your bed frame is metal.”

You looked down at the pack. “Oh, these look plastic.”

“Mm hm, they are plastic.”

“Well, where do people use these?”

“On drywall, mostly,” he said. “When you’re hanging—hold on, did Jamie just put a screw into the wall for those frames you mentioned?”

“Yeah.”

He blinked a couple of times, then cleared his throat and took the pack from you to put it into the cart as well.

“Yay!”

“Anything else you want from here?”

You looked over at the shelf, then shook your head and Logan threw an arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to himself as you both went into another aisle.

“So wait, you need to put stuff into the wall to put stuff into the wall?”

“Mm hm.”

“Why?”

“Well, otherwise the screw can slip out of the wall when you hang something,” he said. “Anchors make sure whatever is on the wall doesn’t fall on anyone. It’s the same logic with anchoring furniture.”

“None of my furniture is anchored.”

“Babe, you have a mirror in your living room.”

“I just leaned it to the wall,” you pointed out and Logan heaved a sigh, then gently guided you into another aisle.

“I’m guessing you don’t have a drill?”

“Good guess—Logan, we’re not buying a drill!”

He went closer to one of the shelves to grab one to check it. “Why not?”

“I’m not gonna use it.”

“I’m gonna use it, I don’t want that mirror to fall on you.”

“It’s on the other side of the room.”

“Accidents happen,” he said. “That thing needs to be anchored along with God knows what. Every home needs a drill.”

You scrunched up your face, leaning back to the shelf.

“Debatable,” you said. “Every home needs a medicine cabinet. A drill is just something people in home makeover shows use.”

“What are makeover shows?”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh my God, you’ve never watched those? We’re so watching those, I need your commentary.”

Logan turned the drill in his hand and you bit inside your cheek, trying to fight the urge to jump on him in the aisle of Home Depot. Clearing your throat, you tried to focus and crossed your arms.

“Not that one,” you said and Logan turned his gaze to you.

“Why not?”

“We should get that one,” you pointed at the other drill on the shelf and Logan bit back a smile.

“Babe, that one is 12 volts. This one is 18.”

“Volt isn’t everything,” you said as if you knew what you were talking about and Logan pulled his brows together.

“It is kind of important in a drill—”

“Yeah but Logan, that’s orange,” you said and grabbed the pack of yellow plastic anchors out of the cart to hold it up. “See? They’ll match if we get this one!”

Logan stared at you as if he was trying to find the right words to disagree with you but you pulled your brows together before putting the pack next to the drill so that he could see it better.

“Same shade!” you insisted as you pressed your finger on the drill, looking up at him and the corners of his lips twitched, that fond light shining in his eyes before he nodded slowly, then put the drill in his hand into the shelf to grab the one you were pointing at.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s get the matching drill then.”

                                                 *

At first you had been worried about being too much of a bother when Logan said he’d be fixing your bedframe but now, sitting on the couch eating the snacks you got on your way back home, you couldn’t help but notice Logan looked very comfortable and happy to be helping you out. Right after you got back home, he fixed your bedframe but apparently having a drill and a toolbox within his vicinity had awakened something in him that he was now working on what could be “fixed” in your living room.

You could’ve sworn his face had lit up like a Christmas tree when you mentioned you had shelves somewhere that you had been procrastinating on putting up.

“Are you sure you don’t want my help?” you asked as you popped a piece of chocolate in your mouth and he shook his head, holding the shelf against the wall to draw on where he’d put it up.

“No need princess.”

“I could help, I have some experience in it,” you pointed out. “Not very pleasant experience but experience nonetheless.”

“How’s that?”

“Um, when I was a child, whenever something broke in our house my dad would want to fix it himself,” you said. “And he’d ask me to hold the flashlight and but then scold me for pointing it at the wrong place.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh yeah.”

He looked at you over his shoulder before grabbing the drill and turned it on, making you grimace at the loud noise. He drilled two holes in the wall, then grabbed the plastic anchors and the hammer to nail them in.

You’d had a wet dream like this.

“How did you learn how to do all this?” you asked him and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I’ve been around for some time. You pick up hobbies.”

“And that’s your hobby?”

“I like fixing things,” he said. “And building stuff.”

You sat up straighter, your whole attention on him.

“Okay, so I can add it to the list of things I know about you,” you said with a bright smile. “I’m quite proud of myself you know, growing that list isn’t the easiest thing in the world.”

Logan shot you a small grin. “Subtle.”

“Hey I’m just warning you beforehand,” you said, holding your hands up. “You won’t even see me coming and before you know, you’re opening up to me.”

“Oh is that what’s gonna happen?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I’m too stubborn to quit.”

Logan’s smile was calm before he took a deep breath, then started working on the shelf again.

“It’s just…” he murmured. “A long story, you know? Too much to tell.”

“That’s okay,” you said softly. “I’ve got time. And until then, you can listen to me talk about absolute nonsense.”

“I like doing that, in case it escaped your notice.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest and you took a deep breath, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“So yeah, I apparently held the flashlight wrong. And there was also that one time—I’m just not the best at fixing things, there was that one time Julie tried to teach me how to change a tire but I ended up convincing her to go get mimosas instead. She’s really good at all that, I swear she and IKEA manuals have something going on that the rest of us human kind cannot understand, she built my wardrobe and I honestly just provided her with cookies—oh my God, Logan!” you said with a gasp. “Do you want cookies?”

A fond smile curled his lips as he looked at you over his shoulder.

“No seriously, I know you liked the chocolate chip ones but I’ve been dying to try this new recipe, it has mint chocolate—do you like mint chocolate? I hope you’re not one of those people who say mint chocolate tastes like toothpaste because I am a ride or die mint chocolate lover, but I think I can also make—”

You were cut off when he strode to you to lean down and kiss you, cutting you off before you let out a giggle.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling back to look at you better. “I’d love some.”

You beamed up at him and stole another kiss from him.

“So yes to the mint chocolate cookies then?”

He stroked his thumb over your cheekbone, that loving look in his eye making your heart skip a happy beat.

“Sure thing sweetheart,” he said. “Yes to the mint chocolate cookies.”

                                                        *

The more time you spent with Logan, the giddier you felt. You knew that you were supposed to keep yourself in check and play it cool considering everything between you two was very new, but it felt as if since you two had got together, you hadn’t been able to stop smiling.

Or it could’ve been just mind-blowing sex.

Either or.

“I’m not really much of a TV person.”

“And I respect that, but not having seen Titanic is simply just not acceptable,” you said as you poured the popcorn into the bowl and made your way to the couch. He wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you to his lap, making you let out a squeal as you straddled him with a giggle.

“You’re not distracting me this time,” you told him, pecking him on the lips before getting off his lap to sit beside him, still holding the popcorn bowl tight. You grabbed the remote to start the movie while Logan frowned at the screen as if it had personally offended him.

“I mean I heard about it,” he said. “It’s romance, right?”

“The best romance in the history of humankind.”

Logan pulled his brows together.

“So low expectations, got it,” he said. “The title suggests it’s not gonna end well?”

“Listen, they may have only known each other for four days—”

“Four days?!”

“Yeah but it was true love,” you said in a solemn manner, nodding your head and Logan’s frown deepened.

“I don’t think that’s how it works, babe.”

“That’s totally how it works,” you said. “It’s like opposites attract wrapped in star-crossed lovers wrapped in a tragic love story. I watched it for like 50 times, it’s my comfort movie. I always cry at the end.”

“Your comfort movie is a movie that makes you cry?”

“Yeah,” you said and grabbed at his arm when turned to look at the screen. “Look, that’s Jack! That’s who Rose falls in love with—wait, Logan, I have a question.”

“Hm?”

“So you were around when Titanic happened?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you remember it?”

“I remember the news of it, yeah,” he said. “Everyone was shocked by it.”

You took a deep breath to ask him another question but your doorbell rang. You turned your head and stood up but Logan was faster than you, so he walked to the door to open it and as soon as he did, Julie’s voice reached you.

“Holy shit you’re tall.”

“Julie?” you asked as you approached the door and Logan stepped aside. “Hi!”

“Hey, sorry I didn’t…” she motioned at Logan. “It’s just that I texted you and you didn’t answer, and I was on my way here anyway because who just got out of a terrible argument with her ex dickhead of a boyfriend and needed some distraction?”

“Jesus, that asshole again?” you asked and she nodded.

“Yep.”

“Come in!” you said and Julie shook her head.

“No no, I really don’t wanna interrupt your sexy time.”

Logan tilted his head while you shot her a lighthearted glare.

“Come in,” you insisted, pulling her by the arm before closing the door. “We’re watching Titanic. Logan, this is Julie, my best friend. Jules, this is Logan—” you paused for a moment, trying to find the right words.

Boyfriend was a big title and you hadn’t really talked about it before, and you actually didn’t know where Logan stood on this whole thing so you decided to play it safe.

“I told you about him,” you ended up saying and Logan extended his hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Julie said, shaking his hand. “You really are a good looking dude, and I was so right about the lumberjack vibes.”

Logan blinked a couple of times as if he didn’t know how to answer. “…Thanks?”

“No problem.”

“I’m pouring you wine,” you said, making your way to the kitchen with Julie following you, and Logan lingered in the hallway for a moment before going back to the living room.

“Are you sure it’s cool I’m crashing your date?”

You took out a wine glass before pouring some wine in it.

“I’ll be offended if you ask me that again,” you told her and she hugged you, making you smile and press a kiss on her cheek.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to like, buy a baseball bat and threaten him?”

“Nah I’m fine,” she said as she pulled back to take the glass from you. “It’s just fucking frustrating.”

“Screw him, he’s an idiot,” you told her as you held her other hand and you both went into the living room.

“Hey man, sorry about the interruption,” Julie told him, flinging herself on the armchair and Logan shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it. No interruption other than me trying to figure out how these two people will have the ‘greatest love story’ in four days.”

“It is true love!” you said, smacking the back of your hand into your palm to emphasize each word and Logan chuckled.

“Yeah alright, sorry. True love.”

“Weren’t you around when this happened?” Julie asked, motioning at the screen and you grinned.

“We share one braincell,” you told her and Julie crossed her arms, looking at Logan.

“Did you meet Thomas Edison?”

Logan looked almost confused. “Uh, no?”

“Good, he was an asshole. Did you meet Victor Hugo?”

Logan paused for a moment, then turned to look at you. “Are you guys all secretly French?”

“No, we just watched Les Miserables one hundred times,” you answered while Julie sighed.

“A masterpiece, if you will.”

“Better than this whole true love in four days thing?” Logan asked, motioning at the screen and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Careful there buddy, you’re on thin ice.”

Logan shot you a grin, making you smile back before you turned to Julie.

“Seriously, what happened with that jerk?”

“Oh you know, the usual drill. He called me drunk, started with begging and then that whole thing turned into him listing every single bad thing about me.”

“He was the one who cheated on you.”

“Yeah and you’d think he’d remember that.”

Logan threw an arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to him.

“I can beat him up if you want,” he said in such a matter-of-fact tone that it made you look up at him in confusion. Julie let out a small laugh.

“You, I like you,” she said, pointing at him before she looked at you. “I approve.”

“Aw thank you.”

“That being said,” she said. “Logan, you seem like a really nice guy but make no mistake, if you upset her in any way, I’ll get the biggest magnet I can find and point it at you so that I can pull that metal skeleton of yours out of your body.”

“Julie!” you exclaimed, your eyes widening and Logan’s smile widened as if he was merely amused. “Don’t listen to her. She’s nice to me and terrible to everyone else.”

Julie blew you a kiss and Logan nodded his head.

“Noted,” he told Julie and Julie grinned at him.

“See? You and I are gonna get along just fine.”

You heaved a sigh, then grabbed the bowl to hold it out for Julie to take some popcorn. She grabbed a handful, then leaned back to watch the movie while you leaned your head on Logan’s chest, trying to pay attention to the movie. Logan nuzzled into your hair and pressed a kiss on top of your head, making your stomach do a happy flip and you felt a smile warm your face before you bit on your lip, then turned your gaze to the screen again.

[junkissed]

monster

member — incubus!cheol x f reader genre — smut, supernatural (demon), pwp word count — 2.2k synopsis — who said you aren't allowed to fuck your sleep paralysis demon? warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, monster cock!cheol, mean dom!cheol, masturbation (reader), messy blowjob, rough throat fucking, throat bulge kink, choking/breathplay, dacryphilia, some degredation and praise, a little humiliation, throat training (kinda), cum in mouth, sooooo much cum, cheol is a demon both metaphorically and literally, cheol has a tail and uses it for kinky purposes, objectification (of reader), nicknames (darling, sweetheart, slut, good girl, toy, etc.), implied established relationship ? (this is not their first time together) notes — thanks to @multi-kpop-fanfics @kwanisms for help brainstorming the demon part and @cheolism @onlymingyus @beomcoups for proofreading !! i really wanted to put out one more spooky fic before december hehe. if you enjoyed this fic, please remember to reblog!! it's super important for sharing my work and it lets me know this is something people wanna see more of :)

“darling, now what did i tell you about touching yourself without me?”

you startle at the sudden low voice whispering in your ear, and your cheeks grow hot as you sit up straighter on the bed. your skin prickles with the sudden feeling of being watched, tingling almost in excitement. 

you already know who it is even before his figure fades into visibility. his face still obscured in shadow and your room is dark, illuminated by nothing but the faint gleam of the moon shining in through your window. even so, you know his piercing eyes can see through the dark when yours can't. 

he looks different each time he arrives. sometimes it’s the long blond hair, slicked back with gel and a single strand falling across his forehead. sometimes it’s the black hair, shaved close on the sides with half of it tied back in a bun. but the red that he wears tonight has always been your favorite: a bright, unnaturally glowing shade that seems to match his fiery personality.

that’s how he appears to you now, dressed in his usual purple suit, the deep neckline showing off the muscles in his broad chest and his tail curled in a relaxed coil around his leg. a thick silver chain hangs around his neck and instinctively you shiver at the sight of it, the memory of it seared into your skin from all the times he's held you down rough and fast and let it drag across your back, just the way you like it.

“you were expecting me, weren’t you?” he murmurs. his voice is warm and deep like a pool of water, and each time you hear it, it only makes you want to jump deeper and deeper into him.

“m-maybe,” you manage breathlessly, though both of you know it’s so obviously a lie.

he laughs, but his tone isn’t humorous. you can practically see the smirk in his voice even without being able to see his face. “of course you were. or else you wouldn’t be sitting there, soaking through your panties and thinking about me like the depraved little slut you are. isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 

the bedroom suddenly brightens with a warm orange glow, as if lit by a candle, except there's nothing there. cheol finally steps out of the shadows, allowing you to see all of him. the look on his face radiates condescension, yet it only makes the heat between your legs burn hotter. 

you don't give him an answer to his question, and he doesn't pry for one. that's how this usually goes; you both know exactly what the other is here for anyway. once you're sure he's watching, you slowly pull your fingers from your cunt and keep your legs spread to reveal your glistening, sticky arousal that he loves so much, and that's enough of an answer to keep him satisfied for now. he doesn't react, but you can tell he's enjoying the sight from the way his eyes begin to glow a deep, hungry red.

you get up off the bed and start to move towards him, but he vanishes. a laugh sounds from behind you, and you whip around to see him sitting where you had been on the bed.

cheol spreads his thighs apart, leaning back against the headboard of your bed, and you take it as an invitation to move back towards him. you're already starting to feel the neediness returning, the empty feeling only heightened by his presence.

you try to sit down but his hand catches your arm, wrapped around your wrist to keep you at a distance.

“ah ah ah,” he scolds, holding back a laugh at your pout of confusion. “you already had your turn. if you behave for me, then i might consider giving you something in return.”

you nod quickly, and he smirks, directing you to kneel between his thighs instead. “mm… my good girl, always so eager.” 

he leans closer to you and fists his hand through your hair, his fingers tangling in your hair to pull you up and force your head to be level with his. he whispers against your cheek and it raises goosebumps on your skin, his eyes dark and narrowed as he bares his teeth with a grin. “i think you might just be one of my favorites, you know? such a cute little thing you are.”

he lets go of your hair and you reposition yourself to lay as comfortably as you can, now face to face with his cock as he pushes away his pants. you may be one of his favorites, but he's also one of yours. the first time he appeared was the last time you slept with a human man, and as long as you have him you'll never want to again. there's no desire for the mediocre hookups of the past when you have the devil's right hand man using his hands on you. seungcheol fits in all the right places, in all the right ways, and each time with him is even more satisfying than the last.

you tentatively wrap your hand around the base of his cock, trying to guide him into your mouth. this part never gets easier on you, but it's well worth it for the pleasure he gives you in return. 

“relax, sweetheart,” he coos as you slide your lips further down. “you're so tense. you want to take it all, don't you? breathe through your nose, you know the drill.”

to anyone else his words might sound kind, but you know the way he's teasing you is anything but kind. you whimper and try to follow his direction, forcing your jaw to go slack as you try to fit more down your throat. slowly but surely you manage to take him into your mouth, but your lips still only reach halfway down his length.

he pushes his hips up into your mouth once he's given you a moment to adjust, an experimental thrust to see if you're ready. you choke a little and let out a gagging sound, your eyes instantly starting to water as he hits the back of your throat. but you don't tell him to stop, and he doesn't stop.

you keep trying to relax your jaw, letting the length of his cock slide against your tongue with wet, messy noises.

cheol's tail wraps itself around your neck and you stifle a strangled gasp in surprise. his cock is so far down your throat it’s already almost hard to breathe, but the added pressure as he chokes you makes it even harder. you're lightheaded from the feeling but not enough to hurt, teetering on the line between pleasure and pain. 

“you look absolutely pathetic, darling,” he says, a low groan rumbling deep in his chest. “so gorgeous.”

your arms are shaking from holding yourself up on your elbows, but his praise is what keeps you going, choking back a whimper as you take his cock further down your throat. your vision blurs around the edges, but you can feel the spit dribbling from your mouth as it runs down his length. he makes it impossible to focus on anything besides the bruising pace of his cock.

cheol coos in fake sympathy, his tail coiling just a little tighter around your neck. “aw, poor thing. is it too difficult for you, sweetheart? you're trying so hard to be good for me. just relax.”

at this angle he can't see it, but he can feel the way your throat bulges around his length. he can feel the ridges of your throat tightening around his cock with each labored breath you take, barely enough room to allow air into your lungs. if you were in a different position he'd be able to see the faint outline of his cock stretching your throat, expanding and contracting as you struggle to meet his thrusts.

“you're loving this, aren't you? i can tell. i can smell it.” he inhales deeply through his nostrils, as if to prove his point. “ahh. like cinnamon, and… peaches. i can practically taste you from here, my darling. so sweet…”

if your mouth weren't so full and you could speak properly right now, you'd probably be whining seungcheol's name and begging for more. no matter how many times he tells you to forget him, he always ends up back in your bed like this. maybe he really does have a favorite.

he groans and rolls his neck back, his skin flushed red as he looks down at you. fuck, what a sight: your pretty little ass up in the air and your lips stretched around him, looking up at him with pleading eyes filled with tears.

cheol lets out another laugh, his voice just a little strained as he teases you. “if you hadn't already soaked through your cute little panties before i got here, then i'd bet they definitely are by now.”

you choke a little around him, caught off guard by his words, but he's not wrong. you wiggle your hips involuntarily, trying your best to hold still but it's hard to stay focused. your head is fuzzy and your senses are overwhelmed, your throat burning with friction both inside and out.

your grip starts to loosen around the base of his cock but seungcheol just tsks and repeats your name, his tail squeezing once to get your attention. “use your hands, darling, you have them for a reason. now just stay still, relax for me.” he flashes you a grin. “don't want to hurt my favorite toy, of course.”

his thrusts into your mouth grow more hurried, shoving his cock down your throat faster and sloppier with each snap of his hips. the force of his movements is unnaturally strong, and although you know by now that he's right on the edge, he barely looks like he's breaking a sweat. 

he finally releases with a deep groan, spilling down your throat and flooding your mouth. his thrusts don't stop, only slowing down a fraction as he tilts his head back, letting out another satisfied moan.

you know better than to stop without cheol's permission, so you hold your head in place and try to keep up with him. your eyes are brimming with tears as you struggle not to choke, and finally the hot, wet drops spill over and roll down your cheeks from the intense amount of energy it's taking to stay still.

all you can do is focus again on breathing through your nose and swallowing all of his cum that you can. unlike other men you've been with, you're not repulsed by the taste of him, and swallowing would be easy if there weren't so much of it. even when he should be finished he still keeps going, his tip pulsating against your tongue with each spurt.

just when you think you can't hold it any longer, the pressure on your neck suddenly releases and seungcheol uncurls his tail from around your neck. you pull your head away from his cock, gasping and stuttering, and you vaguely register cheol's fingers beneath your chin to support your head, your jaw aching from being held stretched open for so long. 

“mm, there you go. deep breaths, now.”

seungcheol chuckles as if he’s pleased at the sight of you. his tail lifts to wipe the tears from your cheeks, then some of the drool and spit and cum from the corner of your mouth, and you exhale a shallow, shaky breath.

“are you done for tonight? or…” he hums once he's given you a moment to recover, but although his words are kind again, there's no sympathy in his tone. he caresses your cheek gently with his thumb, his crimson red eyes sparkling as he looks down at you.

“… you think you can take more?”

your eyes are heavy and lidded, feeling like all your energy has been zapped from you, but somehow you're still insatiable. there's an itch that you can never quite scratch, feelings that only seungcheol can make you feel, and the promise of that satisfaction is enough to keep you sated and happy for decades.

“more,” you stammer, still catching your breath, but your eyes are fixed on his. “p-please, i can take it.”

cheol's smile widens, revealing his gleaming white teeth, although he'd already known what your answer would be. “oh, i know you can. such an obedient thing you are, always so ready to please and be pleased. you want more, hm?”

you nods quickly as you can manage, your neck still aching a little. that's how he always leaves you: a ruined mess, exhausted and sore, yet you'd still jump on the chance for another round if he offered. and he always does.

before you can blink he flips you onto your back, disappearing almost like magic and reappearing at the end of the bed to kneel between your legs. his thick cock rests against your stomach, still just as hard as before, and the weight of him on top of you already has you shivering with excitement.

“you’ve been such a good girl for me, darling. i think you deserve a little reward for taking my cock so well.” he grins as he traces his fingers down your body, his hands finding your hips as his grip tightens. “you get to take it again.”

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[magicbeardpowers]

The analogy I've landed on whenever I think "how can anyone be undecided?" is that a lot of people know about politics the way I personally know about football. I watch one game a year, the Super Bowl, mostly because it's also a family gathering for us. I find out who the teams are the week of. I pick one I want to win pretty arbitrarily, and often I'll start rooting for the team that's a little behind in he 4th quarter. I learn the names of specific players during the pregame interviews. I only know one guy's name because he's dating Taylor Swift, and I don't know what position he plays except it's not the quarterback because that's the position of the only other player I can still name. Long passes are fun to watch but driving up the middle seems boring and is completely indecipherable, and it doesn't seem to push forward very much so I don't know why they do it. I know very little about the actual rules of the game. "Holding" and "false start" are easy enough to get, but is there an offsides rule? Just typing this, I can't say with certainty how many points a touchdown is, just that the field goal after gets more points (4 points and 3 points? It seems like sometimes it's 7 points total but I swear I've seen multiples of six). How many yards is it actually to get a first down?

Meanwhile, I was at a trivia night last year where a whole category was to name the college football team exclusively from a picture of their helmets. Because giving more information would be too easy I guess. Most other tables got like 8 out of 10, many got more.

What I mean by this long football analogy is that we (the Democrats) need to get people interested in our candidates in a similar way the Super Bowl gets non football fans involved. Not literally funny commercials and a half time show, but it couldn't hurt. They also build narratives around their players too. "Can this older quarterback win his probably last Superbowl and get a record breaking number of wins under his belt, or will the younger quarterback come out on top and pick up his first ring?"

Time and again people approve of left or Democrat policies when they're not attached to Democrats. I've seen it mentioned in several places that my home state of Missouri both voted for Trump and voted to allow abortion and raise the minimum wage. If I remember right in 2020 Florida also voted for Trump while raising the minimum wage and legalizing marijuana.

I need to clarify that I am not trying to make a claim to moral superiority by saying "I know important things like politics instead of stupid football". I know about politics because I'm a nerd. These things are interesting to me in the same way I'm interested in the fiction I read and in the way football is to a lot of people. It's a matter of temperament, not character.

the lesson I'm taking away from this election is not that the Democrats need to become more left wing or more right wing but moreso that they need to find a way to cater their rhetoric towards people who genuinly have no idea what is going on. the target audience for every speech and political appearance should be someone who doesn't know what the three branches of government are because they were drawing a Cool S during high school civics

[sweetypouch]

Forever With You

Mr. Crawling

Synopsis: Even your home doesn't feel like a home ever since you left the other world, so you decided to go back and stay with him for good.

Spoilers!⚠️ From END03: I'm Back

Incorrect grammar (pls forgive me)

Mr. Crawling being a cutie patootie.

I was really feeling like writing something for him because I luv him so much.

Word count: 7177

Ever since you came back to your own world, life's been peaceful. No mysterious rooms, no creepy monsters, and no blood spilling everywhere you go.

At first it was hard to keep yourself sane, being kept for a long time in a world that's not known to you, being away from your loved ones, being alone without anyone to stay with you, of course it would be tough.

Except there's a certain someone who stayed with you throughout your journey, wandered with you around the endless maze of unpredictable paths, protected you from any threats, and taught you two important things: what is love and what it feels like to be loved.

You know people would criticise you, calling you a 'psycho' or even 'insane' for loving a monster like him. And even if it's him against the world, you know to yourself who to pick.

And it'll always be him.

Now...what was his name again?

Mr......Crawling?

Is that it?

It sounds so familiar, yet so foreign to hear.

Am I right?

Or am I wrong?

Where is he?

Ah. That's right. You both got separated just as you reached the exit, it felt so painful leaving without him, like a part of you was stuck elsewhere. What was more horrifying to see is how your memories of the other world slowly fades like it's just a fever dream you once had. A string of hope always comes at the last possible moment, as if it wants you to be stuck to choose whether to keep on trying to remember everything or just let it disappear once and for all.

For the past few nights you've always found yourself stuck in the same dream every single time: Your body under the blankets of a hospital bed, and he's keeping an eye out for you, laying his cold head on your stomach with half of his face hiding underneath his long, black hair, watching you with that seemingly creepy but cute smile of his as he asks the same question over and over again.

"You like me?"

And every time you reply to him with the same answer again and again...

"I like you"

He'd laugh and ruffle your hair. He'd say how happy he is to hear that as he kept on laughing, muttering "I like you" numerous times.

And you'll always wake up with a tear-stained face and a tightened chest, longing for his touch and his love.

So you made the decision to finally end it all, end all the suffering, and go back to that building with no regrets. You prepared yourself and hurriedly ran outside your apartment to find the place where it all started.

The cold and quiet structure had this familiar breeze flowing even on the inside of your thick jacket. When you finally came across a large mirror with lots of cracks and a single hole just in the middle of it, you know you're almost there.

Shoes clacking on the concrete floor with each step, echoing through the spacious hallway, you wasted no time and stopped just infront of the large mirror. You take a glance of yourself, noticing the redness and the puffiness of your eyes as you carefully touched it.

You must've cried really hard last night.

Too focused on yourself, you didn't notice a single eye observing you through the hole. And when you finally shifted your eyes to meet the familiar man, you quickly leaned closer to the void.

"Mr. Gap!" You called out. Desperate eyes staring at him intensely.

You can sense him smiling just from the way his eyes curled up. It has been so long since you last saw him and you can feel yourself regaining those memories you almost lost.

"Please take me back!" You pleaded, not realizing that there's a language barrier between the two different worlds. Mr. Gap frowned, obviously telling you that he doesn't understand a word you said, yet he knows from that tone of your voice that you need help.

"Need help?" He asked.

You nod without a second, and instantly reply back, knowing you're finally getting the hang of their language.

"Need help return" You uttered out, and he was quick to respond, and you know just exactly what he'll do in exchange for helping you.

His hand suddenly pops out of the hole, curled up like he wants you to give something to him, which is just what he wants. "Give me your hair?" He chuckled, waiting for your response.

You took a pause and caressed your hair resting on your shoulder, you never actually realized how long it has been since you came back to your own world, your hair had grown over alot.

You smiled, a signal that you consented and that's where he was quick on action to grab you and the next thing you knew...

You're here.

You're back.

Now you just wished you were at the same time as him.

You looked to your side and found a cracked hole in a wall, and there goes Mr. Gap with his sinister eye smile. You asked him about the others, referring to them as someone you're with the last time you're here.

Happy was definitely an understatement to what you're feeling right now, it's far more than just feeling happy that you're finally here. You can finally see him again. You thanked Mr. Gap and decided to leave, but before he lets you vanish, he gave you a crowbar. It's not what you really needed right now but it's not bad to bring one just in case.

"Thank you" you worded out, still grateful to him for helping you, you're quite lucky he didn't ask for a heart or you would surely do what you need to do, even if it gets real bloody. He left the shadows and you headed off to who knows where, as long as there's a door or a way out.

With a crowbar on your hand, you walk past several rooms, some are familiar, while some are probably a new one. Encountering some familiar faces was really refreshing, some of them were Mr. Masque, Mr. Hood, and Mr. Machete. It's like a reunion with friends from the other side, but they're not the main reason you're here, you were still dedicated into searching for a familiar crawling man whom you really really want to see.

Finally, after resting for a little bit, you finally found that same room you had in your dream, you immediately turned the knob and walked right in.

No one was there.

You plopped down on the bed, feeling down knowing that he wasn't here, he might still be looking for you but you're already worn out, your feet are sore from all that walking and running.

Maybe if you take a rest, you'll find him next to you the moment you wake up. Lifting both your legs on the bed as you get yourself comfortable, you suddenly hear a weeping noise, like someone is crying.

You stopped moving and waited for it to make noise again, and it scared you for a bit, it was really close to you, but there's no one in this room but you.

It sounds like it's coming under the bed. You quickly looked to the left side of the bed, and found nothing, you had to make sure it's safe to look underneath before going at it. You looked to the right side and found a hair peeking out from under your bed, it was long, and dark.

You got up and sat on the floor, just infront of the dark view from under the bed. Leaning closer to examine it very closely, you shrieked for a second and backed away instantly when a face popped out of the shadows.

It looked at you for a while, before deciding to crawl out of there. Soon, it all came to view. It was him.

"Mr. Crawling-" before you could even finish your sentence, he jumped at you and completely wrapped you fully covered on his hold. Your arms made its way to wrap around his neck, hugging him back with your head buried on his shoulder.

"Found you!" He sounded happy as well, and his crying noises had finally stopped. Now it was your time to cry in his arms.

"I'm sorry" you repeated a few times before finally breaking down. He's confused as a baby, not knowing the reason why you're suddenly feeling sad. And with that he replied back. "Why sad? Not happy found me?" His hands gently pet your head, knowing just how much you need it as your sobs and sniffled echoed through the room.

"Happy, too happy" you replied between your sobs, and looked at him with your puffed-out eyes, he looked even more confused and the way his mouth frowned just showed how much he's clueless to what's happening to you. Without any second, he cupped both your cheeks and leaned closer just close enough for his nose to bump into yours.

"You pain? Hurt?" He asked.

"No, me fine" you assured him, and the look on his face was more than enough to make you giggle because it's still as confused as ever, you shrugged the idea of explaining it to him more further as it could lead to more misunderstandings. You gave him a peck on his lips and smiled. The laughter that comes out of him after kissing him was like a remedy for your pain, and you're finally at rest when he keeps you on his hold, muttering words like, "Me together with you", "I like you", and "Protect you".

"You rest?" was the last thing you heard him ask before finally falling asleep, ready for a new day tomorrow with him by your side.

It's decided. You're gonna stay with him forever.

[edorazzi]

I’ve followed you for a long time and your tintin stuff always looked so cool so I’ve been curious is tintin a book or a show if someone wanted to get into it where do you think they should start?

It's Tintin Day again, and an EXCELLENT question from a poor unsuspecting soul who fell right into my trap!!! >:3c

I've compiled a basic Tintin menu with some ways the character differs between depictions - not fully comprehensive but a nice selection of flavours! 🍦

Personally I'd recommend the 2011 Spielberg movie as a starting point; it's the most standalone piece of media and a real love letter to the whole franchise. Plus it's breathtakingly gorgeous, whether you enjoy the plot or not it's worth it for the visuals alone!!!

If you choose to continue - I'd pick either the comic books (the source media!) or the 1991 Ellipse/Nelvana cartoon series, which closely retells many of the same stories but shuffles the timeline around and generally sanitises things for a young audience. My late paternal grandparents rented the VHS tapes from the library whenever we visited - it's so very, very cute and has a real soft place in my heart! 💖

The 60s live-action movies are lovely; but less accessible and probably better with preexisting knowledge of the franchise. The 50s Belvision cartoon... exists. And we don't talk about 1929 Tintin, he isn't real and he can't hurt us.

I hope this is helpful, or at least fun! And it's important to remember that while the comics do contain period-typical racism, xenophobia and other outdated views; part of the joy is watching Hergé's deeply conservative stance change as 50 years of research took him around the world meeting real people and learning about their experiences. He shared his own education through Tintin and that's such an important thing!!! 🌎✨

[crookedteethed]

18+ -mdni

ᥫ᭡. jj shoots, he scorns

pairing: rafe x kook!jj x fem! reader

warnings: very little smut (piv), public sex, cheating, language, plot with little porn, hecka tension, blossoming love triangle, fuckboy! jj

⌞ pt. 1 ⌝

Rafe held his breath, waiting for the swift swing of JJ's golf club to connect with the small white ball. The anticipation built as JJ pulled back, his muscles tense and ready to strike.

And then, with a powerful release, the club whooshed through the air, followed by an explosive shout of "Yo, Maybank!" from Rafe.

The sudden noise caused the young boy to jump in startled surprise, causing him to miss his shot at the golf hole. The sound of the club hitting the ground echoed through the quiet course, as JJ turned to face Rafe with a mix of annoyance and amusement on his face.

"Jesus Christ, Rafe! I could've made that shot!"

Rafe clicks his teeth, knowing damn well that his friend wasn't as good as a golf player as him.

"You been avoiding me, man?" Rafe asks, slowly approaching Jay, his golf club balancing on his muscular shouldar blades.

"Nope, nah man," JJ said, avoiding Rafe's glower, tongue poking out the side of his mouth, positioning his body to make another shit shot.

JJ swishes, he doesn't score.

"Shit." Jay curses. "Can you maybe back up some? You're ruining my mojo. I was doing good before you got here."

Rafe nods, scooting back, so JJ could make another shitty shot.

"So, if you're not avoiding me, then why haven't you been answering my calls or texts?"

Jay's eyes practically sparkled as he shrugged nonchalantly, his voice dripping with arrogant confidence.

"I live a fast-paced life, you know? Running my father's successful inns, cruising around in my shiny new Bently and indulging in all sorts of pleasures…like my girl, whom I love to fuck in my luxurious car. I also started seeing this new piece on the side, too, and fuck, does she have the cutest ass."

He twirled his golf club expertly and with perfect aim, sinking the shot flawlessly. Turning to Rafe with a smug grin, he challenged him with a triumphant glint in his eye. "See that? That's what winning looks like, my friend."

Rafe grits his teeth, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he decides to join in on the fun and play some golf too.

"Do I know her?" Rafe's voice drips with arrogance and entitlement as he positions himself to swing the golf club.

"Do you know who?" JJ steps up behind him, watching his friend pull back his arms for the swing.

Rafe's ball flies through the air, landing perfectly in the hole. He turns to JJ with a self-satisfied smirk, daring him to match the shot.

"New piece of ass, huh?" Rafe's tone is lecherous and degrading.

"She's no one important," JJ shrugs nonchalantly. "Just a pouge girl."

Rafe's lips curl into a sneer. "Always chasing after those lower-class runts, aren't you?"

"You know me," JJ says defensively. But deep down, he knows Rafe is right.

Rafe smirks as he watches JJ approach the patch of grass, ready to take his swing. "It's nice to know you're not avoiding me," Rafe says with false sincerity. "Because if I didn't know any better, I would think you were mad at me all because I kissed your precious girlfriend."

JJ tenses, his grip on the golf club tightening until his knuckles turn white. "What?" he snarls in a high-pitched voice. "Mad at you? For kissing y/n?" He scoffs and takes another swing, barely making it to the hole thanks to the strong wind.

"Besides," JJ continues with a coldness in his tone, "I got the pouge girl, too now, remember?”

It's Rafe's turn to swing now, but he forfeits and turns to JJ with a sly grin.

"So, you wouldn't mind if I started messing around with y/n then?" Rafe taunts, knowing that mentioning y/n hits a nerve in JJ.

JJ's jaw clenches, his blue eyes flashing with barely contained rage. He takes a step towards Rafe, golf club still gripped tightly in his hand. "You stay away from her," he growls, his voice low and dangerous.

Rafe's grin widens, sensing he's struck a nerve. "Oh? And why should I? You just said you didn't care."

"I don't," JJ insists, but his voice wavers slightly. "I just... I don't want her mixed up with someone like you."

Rafe chuckles, taking a step closer to JJ. They're almost nose to nose now, the tension between them palpable. "Someone like me? And what exactly am I like, Jay?"

JJ's jaw clenches and his eyes narrow to slits as he stares at Rafe with seething anger. "You are a manipulative, entitled asshole who thinks he is always right--"

"Is that why y/n chose to be with you then, a serial cheater?" Rafe sneers, his eyebrows furrowed in disdain.

The tension between them escalates until they are standing nose to nose, their once friendly game of golf forgotten as their friendship shatters in the heat of their rage. The air crackles with animosity as they exchange heated insults, each determined to prove their superiority over the other.

Rafe's eyes bore into JJ's with a razor-sharp intensity, daring him to continue their verbal sparring match. But Rafe knew he had the upper hand and decided to call it quits before things escalated further.

"As much as I'd love to keep going, I've got more important things to do," Rafe sneered. "Like getting ready for the party I'm throwing tonight--and don't worry, I already invited your princess, y/n. Maybe you should bring your pouge girl along too, just so I can have a turn with her."

The words dripped with malice and a twisted desire for control as Rafe grinned wickedly.

JJ stood at the top of the steep golf hill, gripping his golf club tightly as he watched his best friend Rafe walk away. His mind was flooded with thoughts of hitting Rafe in the back of his buzzed head with the club, but something held him back. It wasn't worth it.

As he gazed down at the rolling green hills and peaceful scenery, JJ couldn't help but feel a stab of jealousy. Rafe always seemed to have everything handed to him on a silver platter, including you, Jay's girlfriend.

JJ knew how dangerous it could get when something stood in Rafe's way. Their friendship had already been tested once before, and that ended in bloodshed. But this time, it was different. This time, JJ had some poor broad to fuck and fall back on while Rafe would get to fuck the girl Jay actually wanted—you.

As he made his way back to his Bentley parked in the Country Club's lot, JJ's urge to golf had been replaced by an overwhelming feeling of dread. He needed to call you and break things off before Rafe got his hands on you.

But when he tried calling and texting you, there was no response. JJ began to panic, wondering if you were okay. You always made his calls and texts a priority, so why weren't you answering now?

He called again and still no answer. That's when JJ decided he would break up with you at Rafe's party tonight.

Little did he know, while he was too busy trying to reach you, you were busy bouncing on Rafe's cock in the only rocking Black Jaguar in the parking lot.

"Did you tell him?" You panted, your body pressed against the car ceiling as Rafe thrust into you relentlessly.

"No," Rafe groaned, "Not yet. But who cares? JayJay wouldn't even give a damn."

Your heart sank at his words. You didn't like the idea of cheating on JJ, but you couldn't resist Rafe's charm and touch.

"We have to tell him," you whimpered, trying to slow down Rafe's movements.

But of course, he only went faster. "He doesn't deserve you," Rafe growled, gripping your hips tightly as he pushed deeper into you.

You both stayed silent for a while, consumed by pleasure and guilt. But as you both reached your highs, Rafe promised that you would tell JJ tonight at his party.

As you lay in silence afterwards, caressed by Rafe's hand, you couldn't help but wonder how this night would end- with bloodshed or forgiveness.

a/n: thank you all for making it to the end, as per usual reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! 🫶🏾

taglist:

@alexxavicry @nemesyaaa @rafestoothbrush @trapistani @theeternaloptimistt @scne-vampire @lilithblackkk @cryinghorny @futuremrscameron @littlelamy @elmolovesw33d @faephoria

[magniloquent-raven]

@chaussettecanape your art of tommy in bucks sweater did this to me 💀

**

It’s been seven days. Almost to the hour.

Not that Tommy’s been counting. Not exactly. But sometimes he can’t help glancing at the clock and think, it was 8:48 when I got in my truck that night. His brain does the math from there.

After twelve hours and six minutes without Evan, he gave in to tears. Wholly. He wept, staring at his blurry bedroom ceiling as the morning light crept in. It was the first time in six months he’d woken up to an empty lockscreen. Dragging his fingertip up the picture he took of Evan's sunny smile said yielded nothing but No Older Notifications.

Three days and eight hours after he walked out of Evan’s loft for the last time, he sat in the locker room at work, phone in hand, scrolling numbly through their old messages. He read every I’ll be there in 15 and Wanna watch a movie tonight? until he got to a solid block of text that started with, Hey, Tommy! It’s Buck. Evan. He was sweet and excited, but so unsure. Self-conscious even through text.

For an uncharitable moment Tommy thought to himself they both would have been better off if he’d left Evan on read and never given him that tour. But it wasn’t fair. He knows their relationship was important to Evan. Transformative, was how he put it. He discovered something about himself, and now he gets to live a fuller life because of it. And Tommy wants to be happy for him.

He will be. Eventually.

Five days, four hours, and twenty-six minutes into one of the worst weeks of his life, he found Evan’s blue hoodie shoved underneath a throw pillow on his couch. He doesn’t remember the last time he saw Evan wearing it, and has no idea when he took it off and discarded it there.

He should’ve paid better attention. If he’d known he was running out of time, he would have. If he knew when he was seeing Evan smile for the last time. Kissing him for the last time. He would’ve savoured the moments he stole while he was still allowed to. He wishes he knew why this hoodie and this cushion. Wishes there was a memory attached to it beyond the shadow of their entire relationship haunting his every step.

He left the hoodie where he found it, shoving it back into hiding.

But now…it’s 9pm on a Thursday night, and he’s sitting alone in his bedroom, wearing his ex’s sweater.

He’s been thinking about the damn sweater for days. It might be an excuse to see Evan again, but it would be a flimsy one. Pathetic and transparent. After a rough call yesterday he almost caved, pulled up his phone and typed out three words of a message he never sent.

But he’s being strong about this, he reminded himself. He’s not taking calls from Howie because he wouldn’t be able to talk to him without asking after Evan. He hasn’t even checked the text he got from Eddie the day after the breakup. And he’s staying out of workplace gossip, because God knows the 118 inevitably comes up one way or another.

It’s better this way. Cleaner.

Today was his first full day off since last week, and the empty hours have been chipping away at his resolve. His house is so quiet, and his thoughts are so loud. Tinkering with his truck’s engine did nothing but keep his hands busy.

The sweater has stains on it. Black smudges along the side and spots on the back. Tommy thought he’d been careful not to touch too much, not to get his dirt all over Evan at his sister’s wedding. It wasn’t until later that he noticed Evan parading around with handprints all over.

Tommy pointed it out to him afterwards, but Evan didn’t seem to care, just kissed the frown off of Tommy’s face and changed the subject.

Knowing Evan, he expected him to google cleaning tips and have the sweater looking brand-new by the next day, but he left Tommy’s soot-stain fingerprints where they were.

Tommy can’t fathom why.

He traced the path of his touch along the seam when he pulled the sweater out of his couch a second time. Remembering what it felt like to pull Evan closer, colliding with the solid lines of his body and molding to fit into the space between his palms.

In the end, it was catching the scent of sugar and pine that broke him. The warm notes of his aftershave clinging to the collar of his hoodie. Tommy pulled the sweater over his head, just to feel that softness against his skin again.

He’s been puttering around the house in it all afternoon, trying not to look at his own rumpled, unshaven image in any reflective surfaces, but he ran out of meaningless chores to do and now he’s got nothing but time to think about his phone sitting six inches to the left of his knee.

At 9:12 his screen lights up. It’s a text. From Evan.

The hollowness that’s been gnawing a hole in his stomach for days turns to lead weight dropping into his gut.

He’s tired. Bone-deep exhausted. Sleep has been hard when his dreams are a confusing muddle, snippets of sunshine, Evan’s smile nestled in the dip of his collarbone, memories that crack into nonsensical pieces under the weight of his guilt. When he’s not fruitlessly trying to strong-arm his brain to sleep, he’s working, picking up extra shifts and deep-cleaning his house until it’s in better shape than it was when he moved in.

Between deepening the ache in the middle of his back and peeling the callouses from his fingertips, he’s repeating a mantra. Reminding himself that Evan will heal better without Tommy picking at his scabs.

It’s a marathon he’s running on empty, and he’s not sure how he’s going to keep going.

His fingers itch, and putting his hands in the pocket of his—not his, Evan’s hoodie, does not help.

Two minutes go by, his phone buzzes a second time, reminding him he hasn’t checked the text yet. Like he’s forgotten.

He catches a glimpse of the message.

Can we talk?

He wants nothing more, but the real question is should they. He knew from the beginning that falling for Evan was inevitable. He knew, and he didn’t even bury it that deep to pretend he didn’t. The problem was it was just so easy to forget how dangerous that fall would be. Just being around Evan made him reckless. His sweet words and sweeter smile made Tommy weak in the knees and he let himself ignore the steep drop he was about to step over.

It’s a bad idea. Maybe he’s a coward, maybe he’s always been a coward, but he’s terrified of what losing Evan would look like if he lets himself be vulnerable again.

But he’s so tired. He aches, and he just wants to lay down somewhere warm. Somewhere safe.

He wraps his arms around himself, fingers brushing the soot-stains on his side.

Then grabs his phone.

Ok.

[dee-writes-anime]

do you have any headcanons with soft yandere hawks?

Obsessed? No, Baby, this is Love

FEATURING Keigo 'Hawks' Takami i x Reader

SUMMARY He's not crazy and he means well, that's all! OR yandere hawks headcannons

CONTENT WARNINGS Hawks being overprotective, stalker tendencies, obsessions, and stuff like that!

AUTHORS NOTE I love making headcannons! They're pretty stress free and it's nice to take a break once and a while from plotting and writing and instead just being able to yap. Thanks for the request anon! <3

Constantly checking in

Hawks texts you more than a grandma on Facebook. It starts with a simple “Hey, how’s your day going?” but quickly spirals into 57 messages asking if you’re eating, sleeping, and possibly getting your required dose of love for the day. “I know you're fine, but just wanted to check—are you still breathing? Have you drank enough water, or should I remind you again?” You almost feel like you’re his pet, except, you know, way cuter.

He’ll “protect” you (a.k.a. hover over you)

His wings? They’re not just for flying, no. They’re like a personal shield that always shows up at the worst possible moments. You’ll be minding your business, and suddenly, there’s Hawks, hovering two inches behind you like a warm, feathery cloud. “Just here to keep an eye on you,” he says. And you’re like, Can I breathe though?

Who doesn't love surpise gifts?! (that double as surveillance devices)

Hawks loves to surprise you with thoughtful little trinkets, but they always come with just a touch of paranoia. “I saw this keychain and thought it’d be cute for you!” Sure, it’s cute… until you notice the tiny GPS tracker hidden inside it. “It’s for your safety,” he says with a wink. Right, Hawks. We all know it’s just in case someone tries to get too close to you. How sweet… and creepy.

Oh! Funny running into you here! :D

You think you’ve got your life together, doing errands, living your best independent life, but oh wait—here’s Hawks, just happening to be at the same café as you. “What a coincidence! I was just nearby!” Uh-huh, right. And I’m just shocked you also happened to bring coffee for both of us. It’s fine, though—he’s just making sure you’re not plotting to run off into the sunset with someone who doesn’t know your coffee order by heart.

He hides his jealousy so well! (can you hear his eye twitching?)

You ever see someone try to hide a full-on mental breakdown with a forced smile? Yeah, that’s Hawks when anyone looks at you for more than a second. Someone says “hi” to you at the grocery store? Expect a dramatic, almost cinematic shift in his vibe. His wing stiffens, the smile freezes, and you can practically hear the internal scream. “Oh, hey, did you want to buy something from their cart? I’m sure they don’t mind…” Sure, Hawks. Totally not possessive.

He's so sweet!... why is it almost scary?

At first, you think it’s sweet when Hawks remembers that you prefer a certain type of tea. Then you realize he’s tracking everything. “Remember when you said you liked that red dress from last summer? I got you a matching scarf!” And you're just standing there like, “Thanks? Are you trying to get me to fall in love with you or just lock me down forever?” His answer? “Both. But mostly the first one.”

Overprotective in the most (un)subtle way!

If you ever think you're going out for a “normal” night, you’re so wrong. “You don’t have to go out tonight, do you? It’s really cold out, and I’d hate for you to catch a cold.” Translation: “I’d prefer if you just stayed here and let me watch over you like a hawk (pun intended).” You try to resist, but then he hits you with the puppy eyes, and suddenly, you’re canceling plans to stay in and binge-watch Netflix with him… because clearly, you’re too important to be out in the world without him.

He's obsessed in love with the little things!

Hawks is obsessed with every single part of you, even the things you don’t notice. He’ll bring up the exact way you tap your foot when you’re anxious or how you always hum that one song when you’re about to do something important. “I thought you’d like these earrings because you always wear that shade of blue.” He’s scarily good at remembering everything. And you’d be a little worried if you weren’t so flattered by the fact that this man can’t get enough of you.

Bottom line? Hawks is like the perfect mix of sweet and “don’t you dare leave me alone for more than five minutes” obsession. But hey, at least you don’t have to worry about losing your keys, right? Because he’s got a tracker on everything—including your heart.

TAGLIST

@surielstea

[colorquest]

~☆~

...

D(ebbie): HEYYYYYYY SAMANTHA!!!!!! V(ilmr): Hiiii!

S(amantha): Hehe, hi Debbie, hi Vilmr. S: Can you see me alright? D: Yeah I can see you, and that smelly boy behind you too. V: I can smell him from here. D: YEAH bleuch! We can smell him from here!!! M(ichael): --Oh! M: Oh jeez, when you said you were gonna call I didn't think you meant like, right away-- D: SAMANTHA can you see us? S: Yes, we can see you too Debbie.

M: Hey you two! M: What's up? D: Oh my gosh he doesn't even know what's up!!! D: Don't you know what day it is?! M: Oh, uh...! M: The... eleventh? V: The twelfth actually, on the other side of the world. D: Yeah DUH. M: I-- I didn't think that was relevant? D: Omfggggg nnnnnnnOTHING. D: You. D: Know. D: NOTHING............... V: It's the twelfth where it's happening right now! V: That's the whole reason we're calling! S: Michael, there's a full eclipse happening soon, remember? S: It's all we've been hearing about for weeks now. M: Oh! M: Shoot, that's tonight? D: Um, uh-durrrr? M: The sun's already setting though :/ M: Too bad we won't be able to see it... V: Aht! D: YEAH AHT AHT! D: That is where you are wrong! S: Michael, Debbie says she's found someone who's streaming the eclipse, all the way from Wootosh. M: Woah, what? M: How did you even manage to access something like that? D: Yeah I mean whatever, you know? D: Only took me all day to find but whatever, like, I have my sources, no big deal. S: It's very exciting, Debbie.

M: Actually Vilmr, I'm surprised you aren't with Maja right now while this is going on. M: An eclipse definitely sounds like it'd be important to her, right? V: Guuuhhhhhh, don't remind me. V: She has been trying to get a hold of me for nearly an hour now. D: Yeah and she can live, it's not like you're the one who believes in that junk. D: Literally no reason for you to be over there. V: Yeah but... it could be one of those times where it's really serious for her. V: She is going to be sooo mad when I get home. V: Maybe I really should get back soon. D: UMMM??? D: No, you're basically an adult now, you're like 18 you can do what you want. S: I don't even think you could make it in time if you left now, Vilmr. S: That's a pretty long walk... D: Yeah it's a long walk! D: So literallyyyyyy, just stay here. D: Don't stress your head all up about what she might or might not be thinking. V: Buh... D: ANYWAY.

[[ Debbie sends a link to the livestream ]]

D: There's the stream Samantha. S: yey -v- S: Michael, are you gonna watch with us?

M: Heck, why not. M: As long as this isn't illegal or anything, right? M: Haha... M: ...Right? S: I dunno about that. M: S: *yawn* S: Debbie? D: Okay Wootosh doesn't own the eclipse, first off. D: So freaking WHAT if it's an orc who set it up or whatever. D: And second, I dug deep to find this stream and NONE of you are gonna chicken out about it. D: And nobody's gonna FALL ASLEEP BEFORE IT HAPPENS EITHER, SMUMANTHA... S: Michael's here to make sure I stay awake, don't worry Debbie. M: Haha, yeah. D: yeah okay sure. V: Hey actually, it sort of doesn't make sense for me to even be here? V: I just realized this? D: Yes it does IT DOES MAKE IT SENSE. D: IT'S THE MOOD. D: IT'S THE VIBES. D: Even if you can't see it you still get to say you were there......... V: But... I'm literally not? D: FIGURATIVELY. D: Open your mind Vilmr. D: Or your third eye or whatever Maja would want you to have open-- whatever! D: You're STAYING HERE DOSH GARNIT. V: I don't plan on going anywhere, I'm just saying!!! V: Åh, Maja förlåt mig...

M: So um, is it supposed to be so grainy? D: Yeah I guess. D: I dunno. D: That's just how I found it. S: It looks like it still has a little while before it starts. V: It starts at 7:15 tonight. D: Sooooo we got like half an hour to kill then. V: Killing the hours away is what we do best, is it not? D: So true. D: That being saiiiiiid...

D: Samantha! D: Michael. D: What are you guys up to, huh? V: ...? D: What's up. D: Over at Michael's place to day huh? D: What's that about? D: Huh? M: Oh, I invited her over, she was home alone and...-- S: ......... M: Samantha, hey, don't fall asleep just yet, haha... D: Samantha I see you falling asleep. D: Samantha. D: MICHAEL WAKE HER UP BETTER SHE'S GONNA MISS THE-- S: *snort* S: mh-- S: Sorry, I'm here... S: What did you say, Debbie? D: Nevermindddddddd, just like-- D: BRRRBBRBTGGRRNGHBRRR....... D: Come on, let's just chat. D: Like let's just keep ourselves occupied, okay. D: Like we gotta see this, when is the next time we're ever gonna see something like this??? V: Uh like, four or five years from now I'm pretty sure. V: If I remember what Maja told me at least. D: And what about it??? D: That's like. FOREVER from now. D: WE COULD BE DEAD BY THEN. M: Oh jeez, I hope not...! D: LIVE IN THE NOW!!!!!! S: Debbie you're getting me so hyped up, hehe... D: GOOD! D: LET'S GET HYPE ABOUT IT AND STAY AWAKE ABOUT IT AND STUFF!

~☆~

You can dictate the flow of these four friend's conversation. Find out how by clicking here.

🔆

[atskiruma]

Dr. Curly

assigned as the tulpar’s personal secondary mechanic it’s always important to remember that romantical relationships between crew-mates are strictly forbidden

a/n: a curly x reader, pre-collision curly, a little nsfw but nothing goes into detail, reader is 18+, not proof-read, not the biggest fan of this one but ill see everyone elses opinion

second-person POV, no pronouns used

I could feel the excruciating headache I had push against my eyes as I listened to Daisuke attempt to explain new slang to Swansea. The older man simply ignoring the young boy as he read over the manual for a broken part needing new installation in the medical bay.

It felt like the daytime screen in the lobby was brighter than usual, or maybe that was just my headache intensifying my vision. Whatever it was, it hurt. I could feel Anya burning a hole in the front of my skull at the same time, after already declining her offer of medical help when I had first walked through the electronic doors.

“So when you do something awesome, that’s when you’d say-” Daisuke couldn’t finish before Swansea had already slammed his paper onto the table. The sound making me flinch.

“Let’s go, boy,” Swansea said in a flat tone, also rubbing his eyeballs from what I assume was irritation from Daisuke’s voice and exhaustion from having to do his job. I watched the two walk out of the bay and into the hallway, turning back to see Anya still looking at me.

“Anya, I appreciate the concern but I’m fine,” I said, giving her the best apologetic look I could muster at the moment. I could tell she wasn’t going to budge when her brows remained in the same downward position.

“Please, all you need are some painkillers and I could easily retrieve them for you.” She pleaded, just as Jimmy and Curly walked through the door. Curly’s concerned stare was the first thing my eyes caught.

“You need painkillers? Why?” His baby-blue eyes set on me, occasionally flickering to Anya for answers. Jimmy spoke before either of us could answer, “Who wouldn’t on this hell-ship.” His gruff voice spoke as he sat down at the table with almost a ragdoll force. Anya had seemed to seize up, from what, I was unsure.

“Painkillers for a headache, but I’m fine Curly. I’ll ride it out.” I said, looking at him sideways with my hand shading the top of my eyes from the bright fluorescents. Curly almost mimicked Anya’s stare, “Why? Why not take something to get rid of it?” He spoke softly, stepping beside me to grab the top of my upper arm.

“Come on, we can go into the medical bay and get you fixed up,” Curly said as I looked at him from my chair. We kept eye contact for a few more minutes as I pursed my lips in denial, finally, I reluctantly agreed. “Fine.”

The walk to the med-bay was short. Curly still had his large hand wrapped around my arm, keeping a steady pace to lead me.

“Don’t you have important captain duties to do?” I said, my eyes glancing down to his touch and then towards the back of his head. He turned his face to me and smiled, “Of course, keeping my crew in check is one of them, which I’m doing right now.” I stared at his smile and then looked down at our shoes while we kept walking.

When we reached the medical room, Curly hadn’t taken his hand off me until he lightly pushed me to sit on a bed. Daisuke’s head popped out from one of the curtains covering the other side of the bay. “What seems to be the problem, Nurse Curly?” Daisuke spoke with a goofy smile taking over his features. However, it was kept short when Swansea pulled him back to working on the mechanical issue.

Curly breathed a laugh through his nose and stood in front of me. I looked up at him through my eyelashes and spoke, “You could of just handed me the bottle.”

“As a responsible nurse, I need to make sure my patient’s injuries are completely notified to ensure a speedy and professional recovery.” He said, reaching over to grab a clipboard from the wheely table.

I felt my eyelids droop in disappointment as what was going to happen next was clear as day. Curly ran a finger through his fluffy blonde hair as he spoke, “How would you rate your pain on a one to ten scale?”

“Three.” I mumbled.

“How would you describe your injury pain level in one word?” His eyes looked into mine.

“Can I use two?”

“Sure.”

“Mildly irritating.”

“Hmm.” He hummed, as the sound of a pencil scratching paper sounded through the silence. Occasionally a loud tinkering sound would cut through our conversation, followed by Swansea’s swearing and Daisuke’s audible wince. Other than that, a clock ticked in the white noise.

Curly was tall, I had to strain my neck to look up at him as I sat on the medical bed. Not only that, but he was close to me too. Closer than someone would usually stand.

“An awful lot of writing for a patient who only has a headache,” I said, swinging my legs. Curly kept quiet for only a few seconds longer, “I’m prioritizing your care.”

Before he could continue this play, Swansea’s voice cut through the air. “Christ sake, go get me the utility bag near the pods.”

Daisuke responded, “Um, you moved that, remember? I touched it to do that thing and you got all mad so you-”

Swansea’s lack of response was followed by dragging footsteps that carried out of the room, “Let’s go.” Daisuke followed and I watched them both leave. The door closing automatically with more force than it usually had. Curly didn’t seem to notice it but I kept my eyes on it a little longer in confusion.

My glare was forced away when he spoke up again, “Alright, I’ve finished my report.” His blue eyes looked at mine. “You’re suffering from… a headache.”

I stared back at him, “I would have never guessed.”

He smiled his charming smile and laughed his captivating laugh. Turning to get the painkillers from the cabinet. Not hesitating for a moment, he knew where they were the whole time. A breath of annoyance flew from my nose as I took the bottle from his hands, shaking two little white pills into my hand. All I needed now was a glass of water.

Curly was one step ahead of me, “Does my patient need water? Stay here, I’ll get you a glass.”

“Thank you, Doctor Curly,” I said lowly, a smile attempting to break onto my face.

Since the sink in the medical bay broke a while ago and Swansea claimed that it was, “the last thing on his list of things to fix,” it remained broken. As Curly turned and headed to walk out the door, his adventure was left short when he hit the automatic door head-on.

My eyes raised when my concerns from early were confirmed. Curly placed a hand on the door and attempted to slide it with force. “That’s odd,” he mumbled.

“You don’t think Swansea shut off the power because he planned on fixing that busted door next, do you?” it was known the med-bay door wasn’t up to code, but it was known to be shoved down the old mechanic’s list just like the poor sink was.

“That could be a reason..” Curly trailed off as his attention was focused on trying to open it. He seemed to come up with a solution when he turned back to me. “Don’t you handle these sorts of things too?”

I shook my head softly, “I handle lights and pipes, I’ve got no experience with the panel like Swansea. I don’t even know where it is.” My expression turned fearful when Curly looked away, locked in a room with my captain was not on my bucket-list. A slight blush coated my cheeks as I turned my head away from his view to look elsewhere.

Just when it couldn’t get any worse, the lights in the room dimmed as the night-time mode began to slowly start for the ship. I prayed that Swansea would see this and come back to close up his project for the day.

It was silent as Curly turned to think of a solution. All I could do was twiddle my fingers anxiously while my head came up blank for ways to help. I could see in my peripheral that he was occasionally glancing at me.

“Can you use your code scanner for some emergency-open-the-door thing?” I said still looking away from his handsome face. Curly shook his head, “Even if so, I don’t have my code scanner.” He pats his pants pockets. My eyes glanced at the motion and almost immediately looked away.

He sighed and walked over, I followed his every movement. “Mind if I sit next to you? I’ve got a feeling we’ll be here for a while.” Again, I had to crank my head to look up at him.

“Of course,” I responded, watching as Curly sat close next to me on the medical bed. His body causing it to dip slightly from the change of weight. The smell of the captain’s cologne filled my nose as I kept my head low.

“Hows your headache?” He said softly, I turned to see his face was close, only faltering a little bit, I responded, “It’s better, especially with Daisuke not in my ear.” Curly chuckled at my response.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, an apologetic look on his features. “What for?” I asked.

“If I hadn’t roped you into a stupid joke we probably would have left before Swansea and Daisuke. We wouldn't be stuck here.” Curly said.

“It’s okay you didn-” He interuppted me, “I wanted to spend a little more time alone with you, even though we weren't technically alone.”

I didn’t know how to respond, “You wanted to spend time alone with me?” He nodded in response without saying anything. My ears picked up the clock ticking in the background as my senses heightened to his confession.

His hand reached up and the back of it touched my cheek softly, I flinched a little from the sudden contact, our eyes never left each other. It felt like hours waiting for him to say something, but it was only seconds. “Are you oblivious or just hoping it’s not what you think it is?”

“What?” I said, shocked.

“Hm?” He responded, patient.

I blinked, he wasn’t going to elaborate. “What do you mean Captain Curly?” I said softly. He stared at me and rubbed his mouth with his hand. “Come on, you’re gonna make a poor man say it out loud?”

I nodded my head slowly in hopes he’d continue. Curly sighed heavily and looked around. His fingers tapped his knees.

“One could say you’ve grabbed my attention.” He spoke in a soft, low voice. I don’t think I blinked while waiting for him to continue. “I’m just hoping you’ll reciprocate my feelings. Don’t you notice how much I steal you away from others?”

The dimmed light, along with the silence of a quiet ship made this moment even more heavy. I could hear my breathing with how hyperfocused I was.

“I…”

“I didn’t look much into it, Curly, I didn’t believe I was your type.” Was the only thing I could respond with. His face contorted into a confused smile. “What made you believe that?”

We were cut short when a knocking sound broke the moment. Anya’s voice came from outside the door. “Are you guys okay in there? I tried to open the door earlier but I couldn't budge it, I brought Swansea…”

“And me!” Daisuke’s voice murmured through the door.

“And Daisuke…” Her soft voice continued.

“Alright, alright, move it,” Swansea spoke.

Even though my head turned to the door when they spoke, Curly never looked away from me. I frantically looked back into his blue eyes. “Curly…” I couldn’t think of what to say to the sudden confession.

“Can I kiss you before it’s too late?” He asked slowly and hesitantly. My heart picked up in beats as I nodded lightly.

Curly’s face came close to mine before I pushed forward a little and connected our lips. The soft plush of his overpowering mine kept my heart beating a million miles an hour. They moved together in a motion that felt like the last piece of a puzzle. The scruff of his beard scratched against my face as we moved together. Just as quick as it started, it ended, and an audible smack of our lips disconnecting sounded through the air.

I felt breathless as I stared at him with my mouth slightly agape. Curly seemed fine, his eyes droopy as he stared at me, in fact, he looked like he wanted to do it again but was cut short when the door flew open.

My eyes shot to the 3… no, wait, Jimmy was just far in the back. The 4 people standing at the doorway. Anya clasped her hands together while Daisuke beamed a smile.

Swansea gruffed, “Finally, save it for you two to get stuck in here.” I gaped, “You left us here!” The old man would never admit when he’s wrong.

“Curly?” Jimmy spoke, it was then I realized the Captain hadn’t stopped looking at me this whole time. I blushed and stood up.

“Thank you, Swansea,” I said quickly while barreling out of the room and past everyone.

“Oh! Your headache!” Anya said urgently.

“It’s fine!” I yelled down the hallway to my quarters.

Anya, Daisuke, Jimmy, and Swansea all turned to Curly. Only to be met with a big smile on his face. “Thank you, Swansea, you’ve done great work.” Curly said, patting the old man on the shoulder and walking in the same direction to the quarters.

“What’s with the pep in his step?” Jimmy said.

[rootedinrevisions]

Not Just Some Option

SUMMARY: After years of friendship and hidden feelings, you and Tyler Owens, the charming and fearless storm chaser, find yourselves tangled in an unspoken connection. One quiet evening at home in Arkansas, the walls of denial crumble as the tension between you finally comes to a head. Tyler’s frustration with your reluctance to open up sparks a raw, emotional confession, forcing both of you to confront the depth of your feelings. As truths are laid bare, Tyler proves his devotion with words and actions, leaving no room for doubt that his heart belongs to you—and only you.

A/N: Thanks to the Anon who sent the request for this in! Hope you enjoy it!

PROMPT: "What part of I want you and only you do you not understand?"

WARNINGS/TAGS: Some Angst. Fluff. Some brief kissing/making out.

WORD COUNT: 2k

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

You’d always been good at hiding your feelings for Tyler. After all, what choice did you have? Loving him quietly from a distance was safer than risking everything and losing him for good. You told yourself you were fine being his best friend, the one he could count on through thick and thin, the person who knew him better than anyone. But sometimes, like tonight, the weight of unspoken words felt like it might crush you.

His arm was draped over the back of the couch, and you leaned into him, trying to focus on the movie playing on the screen. The warmth of his body so close to yours should have been comforting, but it only reminded you of all the times you’d wished for more.

And then his phone buzzed. Again.

You bit your lip, refusing to look at the screen. It wasn’t your business who he was texting, no matter how much it felt like a dagger twisting in your chest. You tried to ignore the flashes of girls’ names, the way his lips quirked up in a small smile when he typed out a reply. But when the fifth buzz shattered the silence, you couldn’t help the sharp glance you shot at his phone.

“Who is that?” you asked, keeping your tone light, though the words tasted bitter in your mouth.

Tyler barely looked up. “Oh, just that brunette from Kansas. You know, the one from the bar.”

The knot in your stomach tightened. You remembered her well. The way she’d draped herself over him, batting her eyelashes and whispering in his ear, like she owned the right to his attention. And the worst part? He’d let her.

“Right,” you said, your voice tight as you turned back to the TV.

Tyler frowned, his focus shifting from his phone to you. “Hey, you okay?”

“I'm fine,” you lied, your eyes glued to the screen.

“You don’t sound fine.”

“I said I’m fine, Tyler.”

You could feel his gaze on you, sharp and searching. “Come on. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,” you said quickly, your fingers clenching the edge of the throw pillow in your lap.

He sighed, his tone turning frustrated. “Why do you always do this? I know something’s bothering you, but you won’t tell me. Why can’t you just be honest with me?”

Because if I tell you, I’ll lose you. The words screamed in your head, but you couldn’t say them. What if he didn’t feel the same? What if your confession made things awkward, and ruined the easy friendship you’d spent years building? You swallowed hard, your throat tight with unshed tears.

“Forget it, Tyler,” you said softly. “It’s not important.”

“Bull,” he shot back, his voice firm. “It’s important if it’s upsetting you. Talk to me.”

The frustration in his voice broke something in you, and before you could stop yourself, the words spilled out. “I don’t like watching you with other girls, okay? I don’t like it when you’re texting them or taking them home. It hurts, Tyler. It kills me.”

The room went silent, the only sound the hum of the TV in the background. Tyler stared at you, his eyes wide with surprise.

“You…” He hesitated, his voice quieter now. “You feel that way about me?”

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Tyler. But I know it doesn’t matter."

"It does matter. I want you." He said softly.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "You could have anyone you want. Why would you want me?”

The vulnerability in your voice must have hit him, because he reached for you, his hand gently tilting your chin up until your eyes met his.

“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” he said, his voice low and intense.

You blinked, the words not fully sinking in. “Tyler, don’t—”

“I mean it,” he interrupted, his eyes boring into yours. “I’ve wanted you for so long, but I didn’t think you felt the same. And yeah, I’ve been an idiot talking to other people, but that’s over. I’m done with anyone else. I just want you.”

You shook your head slightly, tears spilling down your cheeks. “How can I believe that? After everything? I've seen you take I don't even know how many girls back to your hotel room.”

His hand slid from your chin to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing soothing circles against your skin. 

“Then let me prove it to you,” he murmured, his voice dropping as he leaned in closer.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, soft but insistent, and the world fell away. It wasn’t rushed or tentative—it was a kiss full of everything he couldn’t put into words, everything he’d been holding back.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his breath was warm against your skin. “Do you believe me now?”

You nodded your voice barely a whisper. “Yeah. I believe you.”

“Good,” he said with a small smile, his hand still cradling the back of your neck. “Because I’m not letting you go.”

Tyler didn’t wait for your response. His lips found yours again, firmer this time, more insistent. The hand cradling the back of your neck tightened slightly, anchoring you to him as his other hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer.

The kiss deepened, his tongue brushing against your lips in a silent request, and when you parted them, a quiet gasp escaped you as he claimed the moment. His tongue swept into your mouth, exploring, tasting, and igniting sparks that spread through your body like wildfire.

Your hands, which had been resting awkwardly at your sides, moved on instinct. One slid up to his shoulder, gripping the soft fabric of his t-shirt, while the other tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. The soft strands felt warm under your fingertips, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giving a gentle tug, earning a low, almost guttural sound from him that sent a shiver down your spine.

He shifted, his body pressing closer to yours as the kiss turned more heated. You felt his fingers flex against your waist, holding you firmly but not harshly. The way he touched you was deliberate like he was savoring every second, every tiny reaction you gave him.

“God,” Tyler murmured against your lips, his voice hoarse and breathless. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

His confession hit you harder than you expected, making your chest tighten and your head spin. You barely had time to process it before he kissed you again, tilting his head to deepen the connection.

You melted into him, letting go of the doubts and fears that had held you back for so long. The warmth of his touch, the intensity of his kiss—it all felt so right, so natural.

Tyler’s hand slid up your side, his thumb brushing just under the edge of your ribs before it settled lightly on your cheek, guiding your face to stay perfectly aligned with his. The tenderness of the gesture contrasted with the hunger in the kiss, and it left you breathless, craving more.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were gasping for air. Tyler pressed his forehead to yours, his breath mingling with yours in the charged silence. His hands framed your face, his thumbs tracing soothing patterns along your jaw.

“I meant what I said,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a thrill through you. “I want you. Only you.”

Your heart stuttered at the sincerity in his tone, and all you could do was nod, your fingers still gripping his shirt as though letting go would break the spell.

“I don’t want this to be just a moment,” you whispered, your voice shaky but resolute. “I don’t want to go back to pretending.”

“We won’t,” Tyler promised, leaning in to press a softer, slower kiss to your lips. “No more pretending. Promise.”

Tyler’s promise hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You felt the truth of it in the way his hands lingered on your face, in the way his gaze bore into yours like he was trying to memorize every detail.

He kissed you again, slower this time, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache. It wasn’t just passion; it was something deeper, something that made the world outside this moment fade away.

You sighed against his mouth, your body relaxing into his as you let yourself get lost in him. Tyler responded by pulling you closer, his arm wrapping around your waist as he shifted, guiding you backward until you were lying against the cushions of the couch. He leaned over you, his weight balanced carefully on one arm as his other hand caressed your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin.

His kisses trailed away from your mouth, moving to the corner of your lips, then along your jaw. Each touch of his lips sent a spark racing through you, and when he nuzzled against the curve of your neck, you couldn’t stop the soft gasp that escaped you.

“Tyler,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

He hummed in response, the low, rough sound vibrating against your skin as his lips found the spot just below your ear. 

“I love the way you say my name,” he murmured, his breath warm and tantalizing against your neck.

You bit your lip, your hands sliding from his shoulders to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm. It grounded you, reminding you that this was real—that this wasn’t some fleeting dream you’d wake up from.

Tyler pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours, his expression softer now, almost hesitant. 

“I need you to tell me something,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

You nodded, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you held his gaze. “Anything.”

“Do you trust me?” he asked, his brow furrowed as though the answer truly mattered more than anything else.

The question caught you off guard, but the answer came easily. “Of course I do.”

“Then trust me when I say this,” Tyler continued his voice steady but laced with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. “I’m not going anywhere. This doesn't ruin our friendship. You’re not just some option to me. You never were.”

His words hit you like a tidal wave, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes before you could stop them. You’d spent so long doubting, second-guessing, convincing yourself that this connection between you was one-sided. But now, hearing him say it, seeing the conviction in his eyes—it was overwhelming.

“Tyler...” Your voice broke, and you swallowed hard, trying to keep your emotions in check.

He smiled softly, his thumb brushing away the tear that slipped down your cheek. “No more doubting, okay? No more wondering if you’re enough. You’ve always been enough. For me, you’re everything.”

Your breath hitched, and before you could say anything else, Tyler leaned in, capturing your lips in another kiss. This one was slow and deliberate, as if he was trying to prove his words with every movement, every gentle caress.

The heat between you began to build again, his kisses growing more fervent as his hand slid down your side, resting just above your hip. You felt his fingers curl slightly, holding you with a mix of reverence and restraint.

The sound of the rain tapping against the window faded into the background as the world narrowed to just the two of you. Nothing else mattered—not the doubts, not the fears, not the years you’d spent hiding how you felt.

In this moment, it was just you and Tyler.

And for the first time, it felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[ghostieblr]

Peter's Vows

When Derek is born, there is an earthquake. Beacon Hills is many things, but it is not a place of earthquakes. This is an anomaly, this sudden shaking of the land, and Peter watches Talia go through the pain of birthing a cub, and he makes note of how her cries resonate with the moving earth. As the baby is brought to the world of the living, the earth shakes more; giddy, Peter thinks of the land. Giddy at this baby's birth. That's what it is.

The town reels with the destruction, however minimal it seems to be. It is the strangeness of the earthquake that has the people in a panic, and it takes two days of Mayor Yukimura calling for council meetings and community barbecues that they begin to somehwat calm down.

The baby is named Derek on the first day itself, born underneath the Nemeton, his pale blue eyes reflecting the moonlight in silver hues. Talia sobs with relief, Nathan beside her, stroking her hair. Laura is back at the pack house, safely tucked in the bed, the rest of the pack members keeping watch. Talia had wanted to bring her with them, fearing the worst of the anomaly, but their mom had convinced her to not do it. The birth of the Alpha's cub is a big deal, but it is also private: only the Mate, Emissary and Left Hand are allowed to be present, for comfort, safety, and protection, respectively.

It has been tradition since ages, and Talia is the last person to break it.

Derek is a calm baby. Sleeps through the night, doesn't cry for attention. Only does it for feeding, his survival instinct as strong as his lungs. Peter adores him, even if he may never admit it to anyone.

He is also curious about the boy. Why an earthquake? It cannot be a coincidence. Truly, he wonders how some people can be so dumb. Calling it a coincidence is insulting to the Powers That Be, which must have called upon such a natural reaction of the land for a reason. Derek is a special boy, and Peter vows to find out how.

Besides his incredibly compassionate heart, that is.

It is in his eyes, which have slowly turned into a kaleidoscope of colors, the kindness of him. Derek's trust is not so easily earned, but once it is, it is extremely difficult to dislodge it.

Derek is a boy destined to become a kind man, one that will be an Alpha with mercy in his heart but cunning in his mind. Peter sees the makings of it right from the beginning, the way the boy will procure solutions to his own problems as well as those he deems important to him. Laura is the first born and thus has the claim to being the next Hale Alpha, however Peter knows, somehow, perhaps instinctually, that Derek will be the Alpha.

Another piece of the puzzle falls in place when their emissary falls pregnant. She's an amazing woman, Claudia. Peter likes her wit and humor, and he enjoys the perspective of her husband, the deputy, and if luck is on his side, soon-to-be Sheriff of Beacon Hills. Peter is happy for the couple.

He is, also, astonished to see an almost five-year-old Derek climb onto Claudia's lap one morning, his small fists rubbing against his eyes, and his nose scrunching determinedly to find a scent.

Peter remembers the conversation well.

"Derek, honey? What are you trying to find?"

"Mine," is what Derek growls in reply to Claudia, and shoves his nose against her barely-showing belly.

Peter's laughing figure is shot out of the end of the couch and onto the floor by Claudia's impeccable throw of one of the decorative pillows from said couch.

Thereafter, it was peculiar but not unseemly to find Derek following beside Claudia, his whole little being focused on the life forming inside her. And when the night came, Peter wasn't at all surprised to witness the thunderstorm.

Claudia had plans of giving birth in the hospital, but due to miscalculated steps, or simply because of reasons not privy to them, the best possible option left for her seemed to be below the Nemeton.

John had lost his damn mind at the prospect. "It's raining! Heavily!"

"Talia gave birth in an earthquake," Claudia says through gritted teeth, "And the baby doesn't care, nor do I, John. It is—"

Her words are cut off by another scream, and she is right, of course. It is time.

Talia, John, and Peter are the only ones who should go with her, but Derek, the little sneaky wolf that he seems to have become, follows them. It isn't until halfway through that John, the human, realizes his presence first.

They move forward with the determined little boy, who is all sopping wet in his wolf onesie, and really, this is no laughing matter. Except it is.

Claudia is brought below the Nemeton, and the tree, big and branching and beautiful, hums in their presence. The canopy of it sheds them some, but not completely.

And so, under hard rain and sharp thunderstorms, Mieczysław Stilinski is born, his little body almost white under the moonlight, and his eyes, when they open, a shock of topaz, like a glinting jewel; a fallen angel, Peter thinks.

Derek carefully wraps the baby in the blanket Talia removes from the packed bag, her movements locked onto her son's and the baby's, while John tends to his wife.

Peter watches. He notes the way the baby is calmest in Derek's arms, the way Derek is mesmerized.

This is more than just being True Mates.

True Mates itself are the rarest of occurrences, but something tells him this is more than that. The earthquake, and this sudden rain, in April of all things, simply cannot be coincidence. There must be a reason, one that Peter must uncover.

In the coming years, he dedicates his time to the quest, and finds that, oh, this is something unique indeed.

Unique to the point of legend.

Of course, he gathers facts before telling anyone. Derek's control goes onto the list, as does his ability to switch between his shift as easy as breathing. Having such control at the age of seven is almost impossible, but he has it without the growing ego that would have inflated anyone else's with the amount of praise he gets.

Stiles, as Derek had nicknamed Mieczysław almost immediately post his arrival in the world, is no human. His mother's line has some pretty strong magical abilities, but the kind of power that this boy exudes surpasses imagination. Nobody notices at first, not even Peter, until Stiles is a couple of months past his third birthday. It truly isn't until Derek, almost nine, comes down from his room one day into the kitchen, says, "Which packet, Stiles?" that they realize it.

"Honey, he isn't a wolf. He cannot hear you," Nathan tells him, but Derek just shrugs.

"He is for today."

Peter hears the, "Blue one! Blue one! Blue is sooo pretty, Derek!" from Stiles, who is definitely sitting in Derek's room, upstairs.

Derek grabs the blue packet and goes upstairs, and Peter follows, followed by Talia and Nathan, who beckon Claudia as well.

Stiles sitting on the floor, a myriad of toys around him, while the packets of chips sit beside him, torn open, evidently by Derek's claws, who himself is playing with Stiles.

And they're both being fed flying chips.

The three wolves turn to Claudia as one. Her shaking head and awed face is enough to clue them in, and really, Peter thinks, this is fucking incredible.

Powers don't manifest as early as this in magic wielders. They're more of the puberty package, tied to emotions at the beginning rather than will.

This is... defying it.

Peter loves to see when the next piece of the puzzle will fall.

And it does oh so enticingly.

Years later, when Derek is fourteen and Stiles is almost nine, comes the first trial. The Alpha Summit & The Argent Treaty.

Peter doesn't believe Gerard's words to do no harm, so he sets up precautions in place. It pays off, because during the summit, he almost ends up blinding Deaucalion — something that could have turned super bad if left unchecked.

Gerard's attack is met with swift retaliation, but somehow, only his goons end up dead. Gerard himself remains free, and through sheer will, maybe, the old man manages to kidnap Laura.

By the time the adults sniff out their cub, they're too late.

Not in the sense of Laura being hurt, but in the terms of missing the action, somewhat.

When they enter the warehouse, they are faced with Gerard being held down by a black wolf, fangs around his neck, the eyes of the creature a deep, ruby red. Deeper than Talia's. At first, they all assume it to be one of the visiting Alphas, but then they realize Stiles' presence, too, and it clicks.

Stiles frees Laura from the painful looking electric rod, and comes back to Derek, coaxes him back to his human form as Peter and Nathan take care of the psychopath.

Laura lets Talia mother her, and then says, "We'll have two Alphas."

Talia looks at the now human Derek, and eyes shining with pride, she nods. "Come here, both of you," she beckons, and the boys run, Stiles' chattering a comforting sound for all of them.

A few weeks later, Derek admits to everyone he has a new friend, and talks about her often. Paige this, Paige that. Laura teases him, restrained in her words, trying not to upset Derek's control. Even Cora pulls back. Stiles, though, is almost worse.

He riles Derek to the point of him using his Alpha voice to shut up, and the whole Pack silences itself, even Talia. Stiles, though — an exception to all things sane — doesn't back down. The voice doesn't work on him, and Derek isn't phased by it. However, the smell of guilt filters through their home, and Stiles' sigh is followed by comforting words. There is no apologizing though.

Soon, they'll learn from Derek himself that he hates that everyone is walking on eggshells. That is why he kept bringing up Paige, so that someone would tease him, uncle Peter, Laura, Cora. Or that Stiles would rile him up.

"Why would he, though? He should be happy for you. I am." Cora's words are met with a laugh from Derek, and a groan of embarrassement from Stiles.

"He's weirdly possessive — don't push me, you know you are."

"Alright," Stiles sighs, "I am."

"And Paige is a great friend, but I don't nearly think about her as much as I might have let you all believe."

And that is when Peter sees it. The blink-and-you-will-miss-it purple flash of Stiles' eyes. Peter doesn't put thought into why now; he simply focuses on completing the puzzle.

And he does. True Alpha and Purple Eyes? That's easy.

That's legend.

Set in stone as the first Alpha and the first Emissary as well as Spark, who, arguably, also set in stone the sword of Excalibur.

That part of the legend has questionable sources, though. Sure, Merlin Emrys is, as per theories, the most powerful sorcerer of all time, and Arthur Pendragon the greatest ruler, the once and future king, but it doesn't have as much merit.

What Peter is sure about is that somehow, the Powers That Be decided that this is the pack to send these two to.

He watches Stiles argue about the best type of pasta with Derek, and thinks, suddenly, that perhaps this is their happy ending. What legends end happy? None. So this must be their time to be happy.

Peter vows another quest, then. To always protect Derek and Stiles.

[lanschpaket]

Mugshots (Arcane S02 analysis on Jayce)

No, not the ones you're thinking of. I post this, cause I think it needs to be out there, but full credits to my GF who actually called out the significance of the symbolismn back while S01 was airing

Buckle up, this is gonna take a while

I think everyone remembers this shot from S01, it's the Progress Day episode

The symbolism at this point. Jayce being the front man. Jayve covering up Viktor. Viktor always the person in the background not seen by anyone else, cause Jayce is standing in front of him.

Now in S02, analyzing scene, seeing more, now that I know what to look out for. I found the mug again. Therefore have these mug shots:

In these still the mug reapears in Jayce's lab it's on the desk behind him where he sits and watches over Viktor. The entire scene it's never really about Jayce, but mostly concern about the city but more importanty also about Viktor's wellbeing. The entire time, we see the mug, but the motive is not visible. Also, Viktor is not in these shots. The motive is always on the backside, cause it's not Jayce that matters at the moment. Even for him, all that matters right now is Viktor. Jayce even gave up an being on the council just for him

Let's continue

This shot was very important to me as I was looking at it. Back then, very dominant and zoomed in, the mug covered Viktor up entirely.

Now we have Viktor in the center of the image. And a crushed Jayce right in front of him. The real Jayce in his emotional state and not the famous inventor Jayce doing great for Piltover. Without Viktor Jayce isn't complete. He is not the man he can be. A part of him is missing. So we only see half of the motive on the mug, cause Viktor is there, but not really.

NEXT!

The next scene we get to see the mug are right after Viktor comes back to the living. Jayce being happy to have him back, convinced they can go back to where they where, before he gave it all up and sacrificed this relationship for fame and the council. Telling Viktor about it in the happiest state we have seen him this far this season.

We get Viktors vision of the desk and his look on the blueprints, which immediately makes him think of Sky. So full motive Jayce, cause for the longest time Jayce feels complete again, but also oposite of it Sky, which makes this scene look like some sort of crossraods for Viktor imo. We know which path he chooses. He leaves Jayce and follows his own path

So now to the last mug shot. I am not really sure, nor 100% convinced about my thoughts on that. But so far I think it show us that Jayce is recovering. He goes back to his roots. He prepares tea, after Heimerdinger and Ekko sneaked into his lab, but this time it's not just Jayce. It is Jayce without Viktor yes. But it's Jayce doing Hextec stuff with others. Making room for other personalities and not just him. His "him" back then only existed with Viktor, but Viktor not visible. This new Jayce, finds himself again where he started and allows room for others to stand with him. Truly together

thanks and shoutout to my beloved gf, who showed me the significance of the mug in the first place and got me into the heaviest brainrot this year :3

[sadplaguedoctor]

grief

⤷ silco x fem!reader

summary: you’ve been taking silco’s death rather hard and found yourself doing almost anything to remember him, even if that means masturbating in his chair.

tags: solo masturbation, referenced major character death, scent kink, grief, angst, hurt no comfort, you are going slightly mad

It’s been two months. Two whole months since Silco had gone and died and left you here alone to fend for yourself— something you had gotten used to not having to do after so many years of being with him.

His office was quieter than before, and cold. So very cold. You no longer had the option of pushing yourself up next to him despite his grumbles about “distraction” and “important business”. You no longer felt his arms wrapped around your body late at night. The rise and fall of his chest was now forgotten.

Though, you were determined to keep him alive in any way you could. You slept in his bed, wore some old jewelry of his, wrapped yourself up in the clothes he had gifted you time and time again. Even sprayed yourself with his cologne— just a bit, making sure to get it mostly on his clothes that were saved for bedtime.

His pillows still faintly smelled of him. The amount of times you had turned your head to shove your nose into the fabric all while burying your fingers within yourself was lost to you.

Sometimes, you would cry. Cry because your fingers weren’t his and would never be his again. They didn’t reach the areas that he touched with so much grace, nor were they as rough. It was a reminder of the empty husk he had left you to wallow in.

“I still feel your presence,” you spoke quietly, talking to a figment of the past as you dragged your fingertips across Silco’s desk. “I still see you. In the dark, in our bed.”

There was no doubt that your sanity had been slipping ever since the incident. You would hear his voice speaking to you and guiding you throughout your day. Sometimes, you’d see him duck behind alleys or stand silently in the corner of his bedroom. You often found yourself fighting the urge to follow these hallucinations, but then with one simple blink, he disappeared.

“Jinx tells me I’m going crazy, but I see it in her eyes. She feels the same. We all do.”

It broke you to see the distant look in Jinx’s eyes when she thought no one was looking— but it hurt even more to see the rabid, pure unadulterated fury in them. Sure, you both got to see and feel different versions of Silco, but the pain of loosing him was similar. It was sorrow, it was dejection, it was rage.

But, truly, what good did crying do? It wouldn’t bring him back. No matter how many times you screamed into his pillow, begging for one little sign that he was still watching over you. You remained cold.

His chair still felt the same against your body, the softness of the plush leather stuck to your skin the same way it used to. It kept you warm during nights spent staring off into space, reminiscing on old memories you could never experience again.

Though, you were weak. You could only spend so much time inhaling his scent without becoming eager and internally frustrated.

One arm rest dug into your back as your legs draped over the other— head turned so your nose could press against the back of the chair, taking in as much of his lingering scent as you could without having to gasp for air.

Jeans pooled at your ankles and your legs shook, fingers hurriedly pumping in and out of your cunt while you wriggled and writhed on the leather.

“You were always so desperate with me. I must say, I’m quite pleased to see that spark never dulled.”

You could hear him. His voice echoed in your mind like his lips hovered by your ear, taunting you.

“Damn you,” you whispered, closing your mouth quickly after to muffle any sounds of pleasure that dared to escape you. “Damn you for leaving me.”

A jolt shot through your body and your thighs clenched tightly around your wrist, head thrown back as you choked on your own breath. Your movements were feral, unhinged and like he said, desperate. So were the tears that cascaded down your cheeks, pooling at the corners of your lips which began to part and make way for broken sobs and groans.

When you came, you kept your fingers tucked inside you— not ready to get rid of that stretch, that sensation of being full and his. Silco’s name bubbled up in your throat and died on your tongue, the taste sour and grey.

“Good girl,” he whispered once more, a light pressure pushing against your temple. You clung to that. Clung to the phantom kiss that would fuel your desires and delusions for days to come.

He was gone, you knew that. But the figure that vanished the moment you opened your eyes, promised otherwise.

Even in death, he haunted you.

i wrote this the very moment i woke up this morning and posted it an hour after. this wasn’t the first and will not be the last time i wake up to the thought of silco.

[cvnticon]

L-O-V-E! 𝐛𝐬𝐟!𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬

a/n: this is my first official fic, so please be kind! leave me some feedback!

contains:: bsf!chris fluff! kissing, a lil angst if you squint and nick being the best triplet ever!

you sat on the edge of the bleachers, watching your best friend, Chris, run across the field, laughing as he kicked the soccer ball toward his brother Matt, who’d just stolen it from him. you could recognize that laugh from miles away—the easy, infectious laugh that somehow made everything seem better, even on your worst days. Chris had always been that way for you, a light in the dark, someone you could rely on. But the truth was, your feelings for Chris had started changing a long time ago. you weren’t sure when exactly it had happened, but you knew now, without a doubt, that you were in love with him.

You two have been best friends since middle school. Chris and his two brothers, Matt and Nick, had moved into your neighborhood one summer, and since then, you have been inseparable. As triplets, the brothers were always grouped together, but each had a unique personality that set them apart. Matt was the driven one, focused and competitive. Nick, always easygoing and warm-hearted, was unapologetically himself, And then there was Chris, somewhere in the middle—a blend of kind, adventurous, and unpredictable. He was your safe place, your best friend, and your secret crush.

you knew it was silly to feel this way; you’d tried to convince yourself of that countless times. Chris had always seen you as a friend, a sister almost, and you were terrified of ruining the bond they had. But it didn’t make your heart hurt any less every time you saw him smile, laugh, or hug you goodbye a little too long. you could feel your heart throb with unspoken words you’d never dare to let out.

One afternoon after practice, Chris jogged over to the bleachers and plopped down beside you, his face flushed from running, strands of his dark hair sticking to his forehead. “You’re coming to the bonfire tonight, right?” he asked, nudging your shoulder.

you shrugged, trying to keep your voice steady. “Yeah, I guess. Are you bringing anyone?”

“Just you,” he replied casually. “You’re my best friend, remember?”

your heart sank a little at that word—best friend. It felt like a constant reminder that friendship was all he wanted. But you mustered a smile, pushing the ache aside, and nodded. “Of course. It’ll be fun.”

Later that night, they gathered on the beach with friends. A fire crackled as laughter and music filled the air. Chris sat beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. you looked over at him, watching the way the firelight danced across his face, casting soft shadows along his cheekbones. He noticed your gaze and raised an eyebrow.

“Something on my face?” he teased.

“No,” you replied quickly, looking away as your cheeks flushed. “Just…thinking.”

“About what?”

you hesitated. “Nothing important.”

Chris studied your face, but before he could press further, Matt and Nick appeared, laughing and jostling each other. Nick plopped down on the sand next to you, tossing an arm around your shoulders.

“Y/N, have you ever thought about dating anyone? Like, seriously?” Nick asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

you laughed, trying to brush off the question. “Well…maybe.”

“Interesting…” Nick said, shooting a look at Chris, who was now very interested in a stick he was poking in the sand. “You know, Chris is single. Just saying,” he added with a wink.

Chris rolled his eyes, chuckling. “Nick, please stop matchmaking.”

your face grew warm. you wished you could tell them how much you’d thought about it, how often you’d pictured being more than just friends with Chris. But instead, you just laughed it off, playing along with Nick’s joke.

A few days later, Chris showed up at your house unexpectedly. He looked uncharacteristically serious, his usual playful smile absent. “Can we talk?”

you felt your stomach twist. “Sure. What’s up?”

They walked down to the park nearby, silent for most of the way. When they reached a quiet spot, Chris finally stopped and turned to you, looking almost nervous.

“Nick told me something the other day. He thinks… he thinks you might have feelings for me,” he said softly, his gaze searching yours.

your heart plummeted. you didn’t know how to answer. you felt like you’d been caught in your most vulnerable moment.

“Chris, I—”

He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to hold yours. “Look, Y/N, I…I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you as my friend. But, if I’m being honest, I think about you all the time. I keep trying to tell myself we’re just friends, but I don’t know if that’s true anymore.”

you felt your heart pounding, your mind spinning. you looked up into his eyes, unable to believe what you were hearing. “Really?”

Chris nodded, his thumb brushing over your hand gently. “I don’t want to mess this up. But I also can’t pretend I don’t have feelings for you anymore.”

Without thinking, you leaned up, closing the gap between them, and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was soft and tentative, full of emotions you’d kept locked away for so long. When they finally pulled back, Chris looked at you, a soft smile spreading across his face.

“So…what now?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. “I guess we see where this goes. Together.”

They stood there, hand in hand, knowing that things between them would never be the same. But for the first time, you felt that maybe, just maybe, everything was exactly as it was meant to be.

sorry guys i tried my best 🤍🤍 ik rn some people are craving fluff!! gimme some feedback please!! please ask me in my inbox if you want to be tagged once i post!! i made this while listening to the song L-O-V-E for literally over an hour!

[chilumi-shipper]

A prompt came into mind.. up to you if you're interested.

So, character and reader got married but character cheated because he said he doesn't love the reader anymore. They're technically done, but haven't finished doing the divorce files (because it's expensive and takes a long long time). But.. character got into an accident.. which made him forget everything that happened recently, and only remember the days he loved the reader. Reader's conflicted, the mistress that character has doesn't know what to do either. Character was confused on why he would marry anyone else when he has the reader fo begin with.

I think this fits your styles.

Btw, I LOVE ALL YOUR STORIES! I RE-READ THEM EVERYDAY-

Someone Better

Childe x Fem!Reader

Summary: Childe was a wild spirit, so when he got bored of your relationship, he sought the excitement of another woman. You were heartbroken, ultimately asking for a divorce. But just as your connection was almost severed, he got into an accident, losing every memory of his infidelity and returning to the man that made you fall in love him.

Tags: Cheating, Amnesia, Pining, Angst/No Comfort

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You were staring at the tremendous amount of divorce paperwork sitting on the desk of your hotel room.

It was very complicated, five years of marriage with joined insurance, property, bank accounts, and now you have to meticulously separate all your joined assets, all while constantly on the verge of a breakdown.

Not to mention you had no family to stay with in Snezhnaya. There's absolutely no one you could talk to about everything, you've left your homeland thinking your future in the cold nation with the love of your life would be nothing less that fantasy.

As you rest your head on the desk and closed your eyes tightly to ease the headache, your ears perk up as loud knocks hit your door.

With a groan, you got up and opened it to reveal your two of Childe's older siblings.

"He's looking for you." The older sister said, Alevtina, her seriousness evident, looking at you somewhat panicked.

"I know, big si-" I paused for a moment, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples. "I'm working on the assets, I'll send it as soon as possible."

"No." The chilly tone of the older brother, Alexei, sent shivers down your spine. "You need to come with us."

...

"Big sister Y/N is here?" You hear Teucer's innocent voice as you enter their home. The younger children laid their eyes on you, seemingly eager to come closer, but perhaps they've been told that now would not be the time.

"Honey... Thank you for coming..." Their mother embraced you warmly, still accepting you with motherly affection. "Oh dear, I'm so sorry..."

"Mama, has he calmed down?" Alexei asked from behind you.

Your mother-in-law parts from you slightly, looking at you tenderly. "She will definitely help."

You put your confusion and questions aside, seeing the somewhat tense air within the house.

"Stop staring." You weren't looking at him, but you felt his eyes watching you set down a tray of soup and medicine on his bedside table.

Childe lets out a chuckle. "Sorry, love, I can't help it..." His eyes never faltered, containing a look of admiration that you've been unfamiliar with for so long.

"After the avalanche, I got a pretty bad head injury. When I woke up, you were the first thing on my mind. And when Mama said you weren't here with me, I freaked out."

You sat down on a chair next to his bed, your eyes observing the bandages wrapped around his head. "What did the doctor say about your injury?"

"I'm gonna get some very bad headaches, and I also got a bit of amnesia, I think." Childe looks as if he's in thought. "Do I seem like I forgot something?"

"Maybe some things..."

"But I love you just the same! So I bet what I forgot wasn't even that important!"

...How cruel.

Having to take care of the man that broke you apart, even worse, a version of him that you loved too much to despise.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

It was painful, staying with him.

Childe would keep you close, call you his different pet names, cuddle up to you, all while you were under the pitiful gaze of his family that knew of his infidelity.

On the other hand, he's been feeling the cold responses his advances have been receiving. But to him, he thinks he can solve it by smothering you in more of his love.

He is pretty observant, he's put it two in two together that he may be missing a memory in which he had done something wrong. He just didn't know how much it had hurt.

Though, not only from you, Childe had also felt that his younger siblings seem distant as well, no longer asking him to play snow games outside, or looking up to him as some sort of hero.

One early morning, when he walks up to the kitchen to see you cooking for the whole family, a smile formed on his face.

He steps closer, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist. "Hmmm... Morning, honey..." He basks in the feeling of you.

You remain quiet, letting him do as he pleases. The ginger frowns, however, feeling unsatisfied by your lack of reaction.

"Babyyyy... Loveee meee backkkk..." He whines, nuzzling his face on your neck.

"Ajax, come on..." You stifled a laugh, moving slightly away as his action tickled you. He hears the slight giggle of your words, smiling against your skin.

You compose yourself, pushing him away from you. "Stop." He lets you push him away, and you feel him freeze slightly at the harshness of your tone.

His blue eyes looked at you worried. "...Hey," He starts. "I'm sorry, darling, did you not like that?"

With a sigh, you looked down. "When the others wake up, tell them I already made breakfast. I have somewhere to be."

You walk pass him, but you did not miss the hurt tone of the faint call of your name.

...

You come back to his family's home after doing some more paperwork for the divorce that your husband doesn't even remember, feeling your head pounding as you ready yourself to face him again.

What you don't expect to see this late at night is Childe sitting on the porch with a lantern next to him, his head hung low as if he's thinking deeply.

"Childe?"

He looks up, but he frowns at you. "Ajax, darling..." He reminds you.

Standing up, he pulls you into his warm embrace. "I love you... I missed you..."

His words take you aback, as you reluctantly wrap your arms around him.

"I've been thinking about this morning, about you. You hate me."

"I know I must've done something... you can tell me." He kneels in front of you, staring at your eyes while his sparkle with the light of the lantern. "And even if I don't remember, I'll make it right..."

As you look down at him, you see the fiery passion of love that burned in his eyes as he knelt down to ask you to marry him so long ago.

It scares you...

You might not be able to control yourself...

"It's just hard to take care of you sometimes." You smile ever so slightly, yet his frown only deepens as tears start to escape your eyes.

He stands, his hand finds its way to your cheek. "Love..." His eyes held such conviction that you've not seen for years. "I'm so sorry..."

You close your eyes to hold in the tears, shaking your head and swaying his hand away. "...You're not."

Despite the tears, you tug at his arm. "Come on, let's head inside."

He's filled with questions, but seeing your sad face makes him set all those aside and focus on you for now.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"Teucer, hey, little man." Childe calls for his little brother.

The little boy looks at him wide eyed. "I don't want to talk to you." He crossed his little arms, turning around to leave with a displeased look.

"What...? Oh come on..." The harbinger pouted, getting down on his little brother's level. "What did I do wrong...? All our siblings are acting so mean to me..." He whined, frowning as he tries to persuade the little ginger.

"But you were also very very mean!" Teucer refused to look at his older brother, the one he used to look up to the most. "We don't like you anymore!"

Childe's playful facade faded as his expression contorted to a confused one. "Hey, what do you mean...?"

"You're so mean to Y/N, you hurt her! She doesn't deserve tha-"

"Teucer!" Just as his brother erupted to a crying mess, screaming at him with all his little heart, their mother walked into the room, grabbing the little boy.

"Don't talk like that to your elders!"

"But it's true, Mama!"

"That doesn't matter, say sorry to-"

"What does he mean, Mama? Why did I do?" Childe looked at his mother expectantly, his voice starting to shake as he saw the fit of rage Teucer had because of him. "W-What did I do to Y/N?"

HIs mother shook her head, trying to ease her expression with a smile. "Nothing..."

"It's not nothing, Mama!" He raises his voice by accident due to his frustration. "I see it, the way she looks at me, it's different. The way you all look at me, like you have a monster inside your house."

Teucer forced his way out of his mother's hold, running to his older siblings room all teary eyed. Childe felt bad, but he desperately needed answers from his mother.

"Mama, please, I need to know why Y/N doesn't... love me anymore..." It hurts him to say, but based on the way you're acting, he could only make the assumption that your feelings have wavered.

"Oh, Ajax... it's not like that..."

The ginger then felt a sharp pain in his head, making him fall down onto the couch. He groaned as he clutched his head.

"Hey... where are you heading off to so late at night?" He hears your soft voice in a static audio playing in his head.

"Out." He then hears himself replying coldly.

"Ohh, when will you-"

He's out the door before you could even finish your question.

"Ajax, honey!' His mother's voice was a hazy blur as he keeps his eyes closed to envision what he's hearing in his head.

He tries to shake the feeling away, but his mind is flooded by fragmented memories.

"You've been going out a lot more recently." Your concerned voice entered his ears.

"I've been busy."

"Busy where?"

He then hears shatters of glass and yells as you sob while trying to talk to him.

He pictures your face, your crying, begging face, asking for some sort of salvation from his cold and merciless actions.

"T-There's someone else?"

"Someone better."

"H-How could y-you do this?"

"When I look at you now... I feel... nothing."

Childe opened his eyes, not realizing that tears had started to flow to his cheeks. "Mama..."

"Y-Yes, dear?"

"I hurt her..." He was in a state of disbelief. "I-I... Why...?"

His tears fell faster, looking at his mother for answers. "W-Why, Mama? Why was I so stupid? Why did I choose to lose her?"

"I don't know, dear, but that's simply what happened, and you could never make her forget that, even if you forgot."

His breathing started to accelerate, feeling like he wanted to punch himself. As his head started spinning, his vision turns black.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You took a deep breath as you walked into the house, feeling everyone's eyes on you as you entered.

"Honey..." Your ex mother-in-law embraces you once again, holding you tight. "I'm so sorry... I didn't want to make it difficult for you..."

"N-No, no..." You returned her hug, sniffling as you start to tear up. "I readied myself for this, I'm just here to drop off the final papers..."

"Could you talk to him?" Alevtina suddenly asked, looking at you hesitantly. "I know he's been a jerk... but he won't eat unless he talks to you."

You parted from their mother, feeling the pressure of their request.

"It's okay to curse him, or to scream, or rough him up, I'll even help you." Alexei placed his hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

You nodded, sighing as they guided you to his room. And as you entered with a heavy feeling in your chest, he immediately sat up, alerted by your presence. You stare at each other for a bit before you muttered a word.

"Hi." You greeted him shortly.

"Hey..." His voice was soft, and his eyes followed you attentively.

"I'm sorry to intrude, I'll make this quick." You breathe deeply, trying to relax yourself. "I finished the papers, split the assets, got the lawyers."

"I talked to her, y-your woman..." You looked down, fidgeting with your hands. Childe seemed unfazed by it, though his gaze seem to falter at the mention of 'his woman'.

"She... umm... wasn't really interested anymore after the accident..." You breathe heavily, feeling small under his gaze. "But... your family's here to take care of you..."

Clearing your throat, you continued. "I do have one request, if I could... I would like a safe boat ride back home." You stepped closer, intending to hand him the envelope that contained all the paperwork to finalize your divorce.

"Take it all." You stopped in your tracks as he spoke.

"The house, the mora, the boat. It's all yours..." He lays back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. "Would you also do me a favor?"

You looked at him, encouraging him to speak.

"Carve my heart out and take it with you."

"...Can we be serious for a second?" You sighed.

"I would like to stay with you. I think that would be a good way to do it without constantly wanting to punch myself." You noticed that his eyes started to flood with tears.

"Ajax... I'm sorry this happened to you..."

"No, Y/N, I'm sorry... I'm sorry for everything." He sat up again, tears falling from his eyes as he looks up at you with genuine eyes. "I don't know why I did that. And I... I regret it so much..." He reached for your hand, and you let him hold onto you for strength.

"Every tear I had in me I already cried when you left me for her." You smiled bitterly, though you remained soft, making him even more guilty as you try to stay strong. "But I appreciate the apology..."

You pull your hand away from him slowly, feeling that he was reluctant to let go.

"I-I still love you..."

You gave him a final smile. "You'll love someone better than me... Childe..." You back away, leaving him alone in his room still yearning for the days where his memory only consisted of loving you.

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Hiiii again after quite a while! I think I've been noticing that my recent fics have been angst, I guess I just feel like hurting you guys this season of giving (I give pain :D)

Anywayy, anon, I think at some point I went my own direction and didn't fully stick to your request (I'm sorryyy TvT) but I hope you like it anyway!