#thought a little too long about The Future.... sickening.

[doubletrucks]

hey guys does anyone know what we're supposed to do. like just for our lives

[lowkeyren]

—where hope begins with you!

in which : dan heng was never one to look forward to things. that is, until you entered his life and taught him how to hope once more.

pairing : dan heng x gn!reader

wc 1.3k, so much fluff it's sickening, bro is not nonchalant™, you killed his tough guy personality here, art by @/SP0I0ppp on x. reblogs n comments r much appreciated!!!��

Dan Heng had never been one to anticipate things. Life had taught him not to —his past was filled with moments where people came and went, and life had a way of reminding him how fleeting those things could be. Though it wasn’t that he didn’t care about the future, it was just simpler to deal with what was in front of him. 

So, he stopped expecting. Learning to take each day as it came, to live by the moment, anchored only by the need to keep moving forward, away from his past. 

That was, until you came along.

The steady hum of the train is a sound familiar to Dan Heng, but lately, his mind has been occupied with thoughts that even the constant, low thrum cannot easily calm.

It’s strange how easily you came into his life, like a gentle breeze slipping through the cracks of a fortress. Even with his walls firmly in place, you never pushed his boundaries; instead, you moved around them with a gentle finesse that made him feel surprisingly at ease.

Your influence was undeniable, it awakened a sense of curiosity within him, a yearning to experience the world in ways he had long forgotten. And before he knew it, he found himself looking forward to things he never thought he would.

He looks forward to the way you say his name.

“Dan Heng—” It’s a soft murmur that rolls off your tongue like honey, lingering in the air and wrapping around him in a warm embrace. 

“Dan Heng?” It’s the look in your eyes when those syllables escape your lips, a spark that sets his heart racing in a way he can’t ignore. The slight tilt of your head makes you look impossibly tender, paired with your soft gaze —it only peels away his defenses without you ever trying.

“Dan Heng!” It’s that sound, that singular way you say his name, that fills the quiet corners of his heart he didn’t even know were waiting for you.  “Hello…?” He blinks, eyes darting back to you as you wave your hands in front of his face.

He coughs awkwardly into his fist, a feeble attempt to mask his embarrassment as he becomes acutely aware of how lost in thought he had been. A slight flush creeps onto his cheeks —oh god, he had been staring at you… without even realising it.

“Ahem, sorry about that,” he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoids your gaze. “I got a bit... distracted.” His heart races as he glances back at you, “What were you saying?”

You chuckle softly at his flustered reaction. “I was just wondering if you’d like to join me for lunch,” you say, your eyes sparkling with amusement. “I thought we could finally check out that new place March has been raving about.”

“Of course.” His reply comes out too quickly, a rush of eagerness that catches even him off guard. “Great!” your excitement evident as corners of your mouth lift into a grin,  “I can’t wait, Dan Heng! Let’s go t—”

Oh… if only you knew; there’s a part of him that comes alive every time he hears his name on your lips.

He looks forward to the quiet moments you share in his room.

You sit across from Dan Heng, leaning against the bookshelf, with the gentle glow of the overhead lights casting soft shadows across your face. He’s attuned to every subtle change in your expression, every little crease of your brow when the narrative of the book in your hands takes an unexpected turn.

(Your expression is telling a story he’s far more interested in.)

Neither of you speaks; content to simply bask in the comfort of each other's presence.The air is tranquil, punctuated only by the soft rustle of pages turning and the occasional sigh of contemplation. 

There's an undeniable intimacy in the shared silence, where nothing needs to be said for everything to be understood. Dan Heng also thinks you’re quite… mesmerising in moments like these. Perhaps there's something about the way your eyes skim the page, the way you bite your lip in anticipation, the way you turn to him with a gentle smile—

Ah… he’s staring again, and this time you’ve caught him in the act.

You catch his gaze and raise an eyebrow; your playful smirk deepens, a silent challenge lingering in the air as you maintain eye contact —and the corners of his mouth twitch as if he’s holding back a smile too.

The book resting in your lap is momentarily forgotten, the words on the page fading into oblivion. His eyes linger on you, studying every nuance of your expression, every flicker of light that dances in your gaze.

Even in silence, you manage to hold his attention effortlessly, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. 

And for now, that’s enough to fill the space with something profoundly meaningful.

He looks forward to the tomorrows you share.

“I had fun today, thank you, Dan Heng.” 

“Me too,” he stumbles out. A slight pause follows before his gaze shifts to avoid yours. “I mean, I had fun too.”

For a brief moment, he wonders if you can hear how fast his heart is beating, how it stumbles, quickens —each beat louder than the last. The pulse of it seems to echo in the space between you, an unspoken language you’ve become quite fluent in.

Just then, you lean forward slightly, placing your elbow on the table as you rest your chin on your hand. “You know,” you say, your tone laced with a teasing lilt, “If you keep getting all flustered like this, I might just think you’re really into me.”

His breath catches in his throat, and his cheeks flare with a heat that rivals the sun.

Your laughter dances in the air, and it sends a jolt of exhilaration through him. “Relax! I’m just ki—” 

“No.”

His pulse quickens, and he can’t help but fidget in his seat. “You’re right. I’m into you.” His chest tightens as your eyes meet; for once, you’re the one blushing, a rosy hue creeping up your cheeks as surprise flickers across your face. 

You blink, momentarily taken aback. “You… mean that?”

He swallows hard, “I do, I really like you, [name].”

You’re barely trying to contain the smile spreading across your lips. “I’m glad you said it,” you continue, your voice softening. “Because I really like you too, Dan Heng.”

His heart soars, and a breath he didn’t realise he was holding escapes his lips in a rush. “How can I not when you’re so cute?” You reach out to pinch his cheeks, and surprisingly, he lets you have your way. 

“I’m not cute,” he mumbles, but his voice lacks conviction, and the way you’re looking at him makes it impossible to stay composed.

You chuckle softly, as you let go of his face. “Anyway, it’s getting late,” you continue, glancing at the clock nearby. “Let’s talk more about this tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

He tells himself he's looking forward to tomorrow, but maybe, it's really just the promise in your words he's waiting for.

“See you tomorrow, then!” You call out as you make your way to the door. He watches you leave, the gentle sound of your footsteps echoing softly before fading into the distance. Once the door clicks shut behind you, Dan Heng glances at the clock again, counting the minutes until he can see you once more.

With a soft sigh, he leans back in his chair, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “See you tomorrow,” he whispers to the empty room.

And for the first time in ages, he allows himself to hope again.

chronic yapper disease

MASTERLIST.

[prongsiepotter]

down bad | j. potter

summary: you're so in love with james potter but he's a little too good at giving you mixed signals that it might actually ruin you

pairing: james potter x reader

warnings: angst, a little fluff if u squint, and so much longing & yearning. omg so much of it

a/n: i am unfortunately completely obsessed with taylor swift's new album, so everything i'll write in the near future will be based on one of the ttpd songs (yey!) & this one's based on 'down bad.' feel free to send requests if u want pick the next song for me x

──────── 𑁍︎ ‧₊°

"So he just said no?" Mary all but hisses. Marlene shushes her, glancing around the classroom before leaning down from where she's sitting on your desk.

"Are you sure it didn't mean something else?" She rests her hand on yours. "Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. He wouldn't…he just wouldn't, right?" You smile weakly at her, then shake your head. She squeezes your hand.

"The note was pretty clear," you say with a soft sigh. The sentence rolls off your tongue with unhidden bitterness. "Sorry, can't. Need to catch up on some assignments."

You would show it to them, so they could see for themselves and maybe divert their sympathetic gazes from you. But you had set it on fire right after reading it, just like the other two notes friendly rejecting you. You still aren't sure why you did it. After all, you did just tell Mary and Marlene that you're fine. At least you will be. You should not be this devastated over some guy.

Even if that guy is James Potter.

James who is now strolling into the room with his mates, looking as invincible and full of life as he always has and always will.

Quickly, you force a smile at the girls and pull out the chair next to you. Marlene, bless her, gets the hint and lightly shoves Mary's shoulder to have her take the seat. You're going through your book bag, pulling out your inkwell when four bodies make their way past your desk.

"Ladies," comes Sirius cheerfully loud voice as he bows at the waist because, of course, he does. Peter and Remus aren't as dramatic with their greetings. The latter, however, does take the time to slow down in front of you until you look up and return his kind smile. Belatedly, you realise perhaps you shouldn't have done that. You lock eyes with James, who's right behind him.

He sends you an easy smile and a wink. Like he's letting you in on another one of his rare secrets. You're not sure if you're smiling back, but it's almost a given that you are.

He takes his seat behind you, laughing blithely at a joke Pete just told, and it's all so painfully charming that you want to die. You fear he will always make you feel like this. Like you're somehow the chosen one. It's such a sickening feeling, you can't help but whip around and look at Mary, pleadingly. Though, you're not sure what you're pleading for anymore.

She shoots you another unbearably sympathetic smile, looking like she's close to cooing at you. You sigh, hiding your face in the crook of your arms.

You can't help but think how easy it would be to just cry right here. It's embarrassing to admit, but you've done it plenty of times over the weekend after you had seen James out at Hogsmeade with the others. Miserably, you had realised that he was, in fact, not too busy working on his assignments. He just didn't want to spend time with you.

You almost let out a sob.

A hand rubs your back and you know it can only be Mary, but you let yourself believe that it's the universe consoling you, as if to say there, there because there's nothing fair about this and she knows it, but there's nothing she can do it about now, can she?

History of Magic passes in a blur. Before you know it, you're in the library, pouring all of yourself into an essay that you normally couldn't have cared less for. But you're willing to do whatever it takes to keep yourself busy. You know your thoughts will stray the moment you're lying quietly in bed anyway, awaiting another sleepless night.

You finish the sentence and look up, satisfied with your work. Apparently it's been a while since you've torn your gaze away from the parchment before you, seeing how stiff your neck is. You knead at the uncomfortable knot in your shoulder while looking around the library. It's relatively full today with every other seat being taken.

Which makes it all the more irritating when your gaze snatches on a figure sat at the other table right across from you. He's not even looking up, head bent over a book, but you would recognise that mop of unruly dark curls anywhere. James must've seen you when he came in, but that might have just been your hopeful self speaking.

Begrudgingly, you resume your writing and it takes everything in you not to look up every few minutes. To glimpse the slight furrow in his brows and the small pout of his lips as he's carefully reading every paragraph. You know he's likely looking for something to prepare for a prank. Normally, you would simply go over and ask him what he's up to. You know he'd happily tell you. But you're glad to have at least a little bit of pride and dignity left that keeps you rooted in your spot.

Seemingly not enough though since all you can think about is that there's no way he doesn't know that you're right there. It really does make you want to bang your head against the table. Maybe that would finally catch James' attention.

Pathetically, you glance at him only to notice that he's packing his things to leave. The tip of your feather goes back to the parchment so fast, it almost pierces it. You haven't got a clue what you're writing, too busy tracking James' movements from the corner of your eyes.

You watch him stand up, walking down the length of his table towards the door down the hall on his right. Then he stops. You hold your breath. James seemingly hesitates before fixing the strap of his bag on his shoulder. He turns left and walks towards you. You're staring at your hand as it writes illegible words, completely out of your control, when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

"Hey," James whispers when you look up, giving you a familiar grin and small wave. It's an innocent gesture, sweet, but there's almost something hostile about this encounter. Like you have no choice but to let him occupy every single one of your senses. You stare up at him, a matching smile sweeping over your lips before you can think better of it.

That's when you notice the scarf he's wearing and its frizzled ends. It's yours. You know it is.

Did he not give it back to you after one of your nights out together on the stands? After you had flown on your brooms, so close to the sea of stars that you could've dipped your fingertips in them? You could almost hear the echoes of your windblown laughters as the memory pushes itself into the foreground of your mind.

James is sitting still, rosy-cheeked, watching you with curious eyes while you babble on about the Leo constellation. He had just told you that you could do whatever you want to him—another quite maddening thing to casually say to someone—and now he's apparently keen on staying true to his word by letting you wrap your scarf around his neck.

It took some convincing before he'd finally accepted it from you. You promised that you wouldn't be cold with your high collared sweater, but James only gave in when you had accepted his wool hat in exchange.

He had carefully put it on you, smoothing down your hair and pulling out some loose strands to frame your face, mumbling something about how much lovelier his hat looked on you than on him. You told yourself that he surely must've known what it did to you when his knuckles brushed your cheeks. Right? Surely.

James pokes your side, chuckling, as if he sensed that your mind was drifting elsewhere. He cracks another joke, saying that if you were the one to teach him Astronomy, he might actually pay attention in class. He says it like it's a deal and you feel inclined to do whatever it takes to hold up your side of the bargain.

You laugh helplessly, feeling drunk on a little bit of everything; the stars above, James' gentle laughter, the familiar smell of broom wax and crisp winter air. This must be cosmic love, you think to yourself. Your breath clouds in front of you, becoming one with his. All the while, you're too aware of James' shoulder bumping into you, his leg pressed against yours. There's no one out here but you two.

You have all the room in the world, but James chose to sit this close to you. Probably close enough for him to hear your heart pounding. Did he do it for a reason? You'd love to know.

"You don't need me to pay attention in Astronomy," you find yourself saying in response, something daring laced in the drawl of your voice. His eyes flash, bright and a bit wild. It's the same look he gets after you challenge him to a race on your brooms. His grin grows wide, carefree, and oh so lovely.

"Please." His face comes impossibly closer and you lean in without another thought, eager to take whatever it is James will give you. You feel his breath on your lips.

"I will always need you, Y/N."

Somehow he makes it sound genuine.

Then he winks and leaves you a horrid, forsaken mess. Somehow he makes that feel like a nice gesture too.

Incredulously, you stare at him as he leans back, elbows resting on the seats behind him. James Potter, you think weakly, what are you doing to me? Not for the first time you ponder what you would do if you can't have him. You almost double over from the striking pain in your chest.

Then he points out another constellation and you nearly forget all about yourself. He's good at that. Never ceasing to show you that the world is bigger than the two of you. Making you forget and remember that you might be in love. Because what if you were in love?

James cups the back of his neck, then points towards the door of the library, almost shyly letting you know that he's leaving. You nod slowly, still dazed. A small smile crosses his lips before you watch him round the corner, his back disappearing from your sight.

You blink, letting out a ragged breath. You feel like you got the wind knocked out of you. Like you just lost your twin. Someone who knows you like no one else ever will. Someone who might just be your better half. Someone who sometimes makes you feel like they want nothing to do with you.

It's ridiculous, you think bleakly to yourself, you're so down bad.

And James Potter makes it feel like a curse and a blessing.

[doki-doki-imagines]

Can you write earrhrealmers feel about an s/o that likes giving them head? Like, it’s a hobby at this point 🤣👀

author note: the request is nsfw, but the hcs are suggestive, so no action is described! Spoiler: most of them are more than fine with lol

Johnny Cage: -Does he seem worried to you? You could spend your entire holidays between his legs, and Johnny wouldn't complain. -Do that in the seat of his car or in an empty theater, and Johnny will see stars, planets, and universes, from his mouth a river of compliments for your good work. -But what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn't return the favour? Get ready, Liu Kang gifted him with those hands, and they aren't there just to be looked at.

Kenshi Takahashi: -With his highlighted senses, every time you go down on him, Kenshi thinks to go a bit crazy. -His tattooed hand running on your head, not setting a rhythm, just touching you. -Honestly? He wouldn't mind if you stayed there forever. -But Kenshi is a nice guy, you know? After you finish, he'll tap his lap, prompting you to sit on it. -It's your turn sugar, and you'll stay there for as long as he wants to.

Raiden: -He isn't that much at ease? Don't misunderstand, Raiden loves to look at your face, at your lips taking him so nicely, but- -He just prefers to be the one on his knees for you, lavishing you in compliments at each whine and twitch your body makes. -Raiden won't make you go at it more than once, he enjoyes it, clearly, if the words that leave his mouth mean something you should feel more than proud of yourself, he just can't wait to get his hands, and mouth, on you. -"Thank you, strawberry. Now it is my turn." -Why strawberry? Because Raiden says you taste as sweet as one on his tongue.

Kung Lao: -Baby, go at it as much as you want. -Lao will look at you, hands behind his head, enjoying the sight like you are his favourite movie. -For sure, the imagine will stay in his head for long, at times becoming an intrusive thought while he is working. -Lao showers you with compliments, getting sweeter and sickening the nearest he gets to his apex. -He'll return the favour, but give him a few minutes. It's hard to go back to Earth when you are in paradise.

Liu Kang: -"It seems you enjoy getting on your knees for your God." He says, lifting your chin up with his index finger, smirk plastered on his face. -Can you tell he is enjoying this? Because he totally does. -One of the few that worry for your jaw, maybe he has seen something in your future? "Thanks, dear one-" He says, brushing away the hair that are stuck on your face "Now it is my turn to thank you."

Geras: -He doesn't feel that much mortal needs, so for sure, he won't ask for that. -But since you seem to enjoy it so much, Geras won't stop you. -But don't be too pushy, Geras is a busy guy, and at times, too much physical touch overwhelms him.

Bi-Han: -You don't have time to act of your own volition that his hand is already grabbing your hair and pushing you on your knees. -It would be terribly rude if Bi-Han didn't do that exactly when you want to go down on him. Does he have a sensor? Do you have a particular look in your eyes? -You'll never know because Bi-Han will rather die than admit that he knows you and your body reaction like the back of his hands. -He will be harsh and fast. If you want to suck him so much, you have to be ready to be used as he prefers. -It won't last long, tho. Bi-Han prefers to be the one on his knees for you.

Kuai Liang: -He is particularly busy with work…doesn't mean he always has a moment for you. -He thanks you the entire time. You don't know how relaxing it is receiving this for Liang. -Like, if you want rough, he can do it, switching pretty fast. -At the end, he'll thank you anyway. -"My little spark, you are amazing. Let me return the favour now."

Tomas Vrbada: -Really? You want to do that to him. Blood is pumping dangerously fast. -It's one of the few moments Tomas has control, so he will be pretty rough. -Tap if it is getting too much! He still isn't used to this and can't control his strength well. -The last thing Tomas wants is to hurt you. He'd feel so bad afterwards that he would avoid you as much as he can. -So sit him down and tell him you'll learn and improve together; a sigh of relief will leave his mouth. -"So…wanna try now?"

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: language, angst, depictions of blood

Chapter Word Count: 3327

—-MDNI—-

A/N: soooo this chapter felt weird to write, but hey I wanted it for the plot to thicken haha. It’s different, but things will feel a bit more normal after this chapter.

——————————————————————

Please read the below:

Prologue Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8pt.1

Chapter 8pt.2

Chapter 9 Chapter 10

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 11

By the time I’d passed the security check, introduced myself to the two other girls currently on shift and found my dressing room, the nerves were starting to dissipate. Through each step and each new room I’d entered I was making countless mental notes on every security camera and exit I could see. It wasn’t hard to tell that everyone except the bar and wait staff and the dancers were all vampires - their noses twitching and eyes widening whenever I’d walked past. I was clearly fresh meat - perhaps not in the immediate future, but I’m guessing that as soon as I’d served my purpose in luring unknowing human men to their untimely demise, I’d be next. Or at least kept as a blood bag, and I didn’t know which was worse.

A sharp knock on the door brought me back to reality, the vamp on the other side not even waiting for a reply as he barged in.

“You’re sure taking your time sweet cheeks, everything ok?” His sharp gaze twinkled as he looked at me, as if searching for any sort of vulnerability. I huffed out a final deep breath of nerves before standing straight and forcing a smile, shimmying out of my thick overcoat and throwing it over the back of the chair I was just leaning on. On the revelation of my figure and my outfit he let out a long, low whistle.

“Well don’t you just look good enough to eat?”

I swallowed despite my mouth being dry, trying my best to bring my confidence to the forefront and to ignore what he is.

“Well you wouldn’t be the first to say so,” I almost felt nauseous from having to sound so sweet. “Why don’t you lead the way and show me where I’m supposed to be?”

He didn’t take any convincing as he led me out the room and down a short corridor that was lined with what I’m assuming are other dressing rooms.

“What’s in there?” I asked, my gaze snagging on a metal door that didn’t look like the rest. It looked more like a vault, with an intricate lock system that seemed to need both keys and fingerprints.

“Errrrr, just the boss's office. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about,” he placed his hand on my hair, making me shudder.

“Oh ok… will I ever get to meet the boss?” I asked, tilting my head to the side. Keeping up with this cutie-pie act was going to be more draining than I thought. He stayed quiet for a moment before speaking up, an unsettling look on his face.

“Of course doll face! When the time is right.”

*

About two hours had passed since I arrived at the club and a steady stream of men (occasionally women) was filtering in. I was currently up on a podium and trying not to think too hard about how I should be dancing whilst keeping my eyes peeled on the crowd, every now and then making eye contact with the patrons and blowing them a sickening kiss with a sultry wink. Every time I slipped away for a ‘toilet break’ I'd unlock as many windows and doors as I could find whilst turning security cameras towards the wall. I'd counted around fifteen vampires milling around as I snuck about, and there were definitely more behind that metal door. This place was about as prepared as possible for Sam and Dean to sneak in, so I sent Charlie a text with all the details I had knowing full well she could no longer see me through the cameras she'd hacked into.

I'd been back on my podium for about ten minutes, moving my body to the loud bass of the blaring music under the erotic lighting which glowed all manner of pinks and reds, when the front door opened again to let another patron in. Except this wasn't a patron.

It was Dean.

I cursed under my breath, frowning at him across the dance floor despite the fact he hadn't seen me yet. What the actual fuck was he doing coming in through the front door? I didn't play mission impossible and find countless ways for him to break in just so that he could waltz in, bold as brass and blow our cover. I watched him as he stopped in the centre of the room, illuminated by the lights that cast angular shadows over his rugged face. He was alert, jaw clenched and eyes scouring the crowd until his gaze eventually landed on me. With my arms above my head and gripping the pole behind me he was able to get a good look at what was hiding underneath my overcoat when he last saw me. Eyes glazing over and Adam's apple bobbing, he was instantly ensnared. I focused entirely on him; sinking to my knees and crawling my hands forwards, beckoning him with a single finger to which he eagerly obliged. The older Winchester stood before me, eyes almost sparkling from the lustful lighting as he gaped up at me. His evergreen eyes shone in adoration as they bore into mine, almost completely disregarding the lasciviousness of the rest of my body. It was almost…

Romantic.

I leant forwards, my painted lips brushing against his ear and pulling a shiver from his spine. I could have been mistaken, but I’m sure I heard a groan.

“What the FUCK are you doing here, Dean?”

He blinked, suddenly remembering he was on earth.

“What?”

“The plan! What happened to the plan? You were supposed to go around the back - I made it easy for you to sneak in! This place is well guarded Dean.”

“Yeah well, I wanted to make sure you were- hang on- are you a MAID?” He stepped back to take a better look at me as I sat up, trying not to draw attention to myself for staying still for too long. My eyes rolled on their own accord.

“Dean now really isn’t the tim-”

“Holy crap you’re a maid. You’re a MAID. So there is a God,” he dramatically put his hands together as though in prayer and mouthed ‘thank you’ to the disco ball on the ceiling.

“Dean-”

“Nuh-uh, I’m not letting anyone ruin this for me - not even you. Carry on, pretend I’m not Dean and there aren’t any vamps to kill; just for two minutes,” he settled into one of the chairs in front of my podium, flagging a waitress down for a whiskey in the process. There was no arguing with Dean Winchester, especially when he was ticking something off his bucket list. Grasping the pole behind me I pulled myself to my feet, hooking my leg around it and spinning slowly.

“So, NOT-Dean, where’s not-Sam?”

He took a long sip from his liquor before licking his lips, his eyes transfixed on my thighs.

“He's uhhh…. He's sneaking in through some window round the back.”

“Oh, so like you should be?”

He smirked over the top of his glass, spreading his legs a little wider as he settled further into his chair, his other hand resting in his lap.

“Don't deny a man his pleasures sweetheart.”

A half hearted scoff left my lips before I climbed higher on the pole, leaning back so I was almost upside down, granting Dean the perfect view of my lingerie as my micro-skirt flipped over my belly. Spinning slightly, I caught him adjusting himself in his jeans right as I pulled myself back upright.

“You seem pretty at home in a strip club,” my voice came out more breathy than intended as I moved my body in time with the music.

“I can say the same about you,” he quipped back, dark eyes burning into my exposed skin. Licking the last drop of whiskey from his bottom lip, he placed his glass back on the table before standing; taking long, slow steps towards my podium, the toes of his boots touching the metal. I got down on my knees, bringing myself to his eye level before taking his chin between my thumb and index finger and drawing his bewitched face nearer. We ignored the shouts from security telling Dean he wasn’t allowed to touch as I ghosted my lips over his. I could feel his chest rising and falling in anticipation for a simple kiss, his mouth agape and eyes darting about my features - trying to take all of me in. His restraint snapped and he leant forward, pressing his mouth to mine - hot and needy. A large hand reached up and long fingers wrapped around my wrist, rough skin tickling at my pulse as he guided my hand from his chin to his hair, urging me to grip it. Just as I grasped at its softness he was forced away from me, two of the vamps shoving aggressively at his shoulders and putting some distance between us.

“Keep your hands off the girls! You know the rules,” one of them practically spat out his words to Dean, who in return had a feral look in his eye as I caught his hand inching closer and closer to the blade concealed within his jacket.

“Sorry it was my fault!” I blurted, all eyes now burning into me. “It's my first shift and I forgot I shouldn't let it get that far. Don't blame him, it was me who was too…. encouraging.” I flashed sickly-sweet doe eyes at the vamp sizing up Dean, biting my lip in apprehension before he sighed and let go, shaking his head.

“I’ll let you off this time as you’re the newbie, but don’t let it happen again.”

“Yes’sir!” I tapped my fingers to my forehead in a pretend salute, hearing the fanged ones curse under their breath before walking away, throwing one last warning look at Dean - who looked like the cat that got the cream - before returning to their posts. When I knew that they were definitely out of earshot, I snapped at Dean.

“You could’ve totally blown everything!”

Shrug.

“But I didn’t.”

“Dean, you need to go. Sam is going to be wondering where you are. Find him before you get caught.”

“And what about you?” He chewed his lip, unable to stop his eyes from wandering.

“I’m going to stay here and stick to the plan. I’ll run at the first sign of trouble, so please don’t worry about me,” I sighed, looking down at his puppy-dog eyes.

“(Y/n) I’m always gonna worry about you.”

*

It must have been about twenty minutes since Dean left to find Sam and my heart was pounding in my chest knowing how close they were and the possible danger they were in. I didn’t know what doors they were behind, or how many vamps they’d taken out, and I certainly didn’t know if they were unharmed. My palms felt sweaty on the pole as I danced, making it hard for me to grip and put on a good show. Now was as good a time as any to have a toilet break and grab some coffee. I hopped down from my podium as the song ended and hurried to the back of the club, darting through a ‘staff only’ door to the break room. I poured myself a small cup of coffee, adding an obscene amount of sugar to stop my knees from trembling. I’d barely swallowed my first mouthful when I heard shouts and crashing from down the hall, my fingers instantly loosening from the mug as my high-heeled feet carried me to the door where I peaked out, desperate to know what was going on yet mindful not to be seen. There was no one in the corridor that I could see, yet I checked left and right to make sure I wasn’t being watched before I slipped out, teetering on my platforms as I tiptoed to where I was sure the noise had come from.

It was the metal door.

I poked my head down the corridor where it was located and was grateful to see it unlocked and sitting ajar. Inching closer I could hear a scuffle from within and the sound of heavy bodies dropping like lead to the floor, followed by Sam and Deans unintelligible murmuring. A sigh of relief left my lips when I heard them, knowing it wasn’t their bodies hitting the cold tiles below. That relief froze in my veins however when I heard a third voice speak up. A voice that was smooth like butter. A voice that drew you in with a silky southern accent.

A voice that I knew to be dead.

Hesitation and reasoning left in the dust, I barged forwards and into the room, shoving the metal door wide and startling the Winchester brothers, their eyes widening at my sudden appearance. Before they even had the chance to open their mouths, slow clapping echoed through the ‘old money’ style office, emanating from behind a large mahogany desk.

“And there she is! The star of my show. It’s about time you showed up darlin’,” that southern voice dripped with charisma as a handsome man, around my age, sat in a crisp stone-coloured, three piece suit.

“Hey! Don’t you talk to her, you’re dealing with us,” Dean was quick to bite. The stranger threw him a sharp glare before rising to his feet, his cold gaze landed on me again and burned me through to my very soul.

“Y-y-you’re de-” I started before being immediately cut off.

“I bet you never thought you’d see me again, hm? Especially not like this,” he gestured to himself.

“(Y/n),” Sam’s cautious eyes landed on mine, “how do you know him? He’s a vampire.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but yet again I was interrupted before a sound passed my lips.

“Oh (Y/n) and I go waaaaaaaay back, don’t we darlin’?”

I could see Dean inching closer to me out of the corner of my eye, trying not to draw attention to himself in the process. I opened my mouth to speak again, my lips and tongue feeling dry and numb, like they didn’t want to utter the word about to be spoken.

“Daniel I-”

“BINGO!” He clapped loudly, “she DOES remember her old sweetheart.”

“WHAT!?” Both Sam and Dean spun to look at me with dumbfounded expressions, a whole array of emotions flitting across their features.

“(Y/n) you dated a vamp?” Sam asked, those big eyes of his glistening with concern.

“He wasn’t a vamp when I knew him; he’s supposed to be dead!” I turned from Sam to Daniel, the confusion clearly evident on my face, “you’re supposed to be dead - I watched you die - how are you here?”

A harsh laugh rippled from his chest.

“Paramedic was a vampire sweet-cheeks. He turned me on the way to the morgue after he pronounced me dead at the scene - stroke of genius really. Although,” he paused, walking around the desk to step towards me, the boys reaching for every weapon on their person to have at the ready, “what’s even more genius is that ad we put out for a dancer.”

“What?”

He scoffed.

“You think it’s a stroke of good luck that you just happen to look exactly like the description we posted? Honey I knew from the moment I turned what you and your uncle did for living - the dots seemed to connect all on their own. And I knew that one day - whether now or in a few years - that you or some other hunter you might know would pass through my nest and see it. I knew it would bring you back to me.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, hang on their sparkles; she’s not going anywhere with you,” Dean had pushed his way in between me and Daniel, the eldest Winchester standing a few inches taller than him as they went nose-to-nose.

Daniel grimaced, fangs threatening to show.

“Why is her scent all over you? Don’t tell me you two are involved?”

Dean smirked before I shoved him out the way, his thick fingers protectively wrapping around my wrist as a safety line.

“Daniel I-,” I took a deep breath, “I loved you once. A long, long time ago. But to me, in my world; you died. And I grieved you. God I grieved you for years, and then one day I woke up and my heart didn’t hurt as much anymore. I carried on with my life, the heartache easing a little everyday. Until there was no more heartache - no more pain. I was whole again. Daniel - you’re still dead in my world. Nothing is going to change.”

He reached for my hand but Dean put an arm between us, stopping him in his tracks.

“(Y/n), darlin’, I put that ad out because I still love you. We can still be together - forever. Just let me turn you-”

“Aannnd that’s it loverboy, times up,” Dean pushed me behind him and brandished the hunting blade he’d use to slice my underwear from my body about a week ago on our first hunt together. Right as Daniel bared his fangs and lunged for Dean, I felt another hand grab my arm. I spun and came toe-to-toe with Sam who was quietly beckoning for me to follow him whilst the vampire was distracted. We left the room quietly, running down corridors, twisting and turning and falling through one of the side doors I had unlocked earlier in the night and out into the fresh air. I took a few deep breaths, not realising how much the metallic scent of blood had filled my nostrils.

“Sam what about Dean?! We can't just leave him behind he-”

Sam laughed softly.

“If you want a vamp dead, Dean will always come out on top. He'll be just fine.”

Sam helped me to my feet, looking down at me, his gaze turning from reassuring to questionable. I sighed, weariness starting to settle into my bones.

“I know, I know. I can explain it all later,” I said, starting to shuffle back to the impala, seeking the comfort of its plush leather seats.

“What? No, (Y/n) you don’t owe me an explanation if you don’t want to. I just want to know if you’re ok?”

I stopped and looked up at him, and something about the kindness of his voice and the concern in his eyes had me falling to my knees, my body heaving out a sob. Then another. And another. Until I couldn’t stop for air and hot tears washed my makeup down my face and my hair stuck to the streaks they left behind. Sam simply crouched down and pulled me into him, rubbing my back and telling me softly that everything will be ok. It was a comfort to feel his chin on my head and his heartbeat beneath my fingertips, the steady thrum eventually soothing away my anguish.

I have no idea how long we were sat there for, but he eventually coaxed me to my feet and led me to the car where Charlie was waiting with a pained expression. She would have seen, or at least heard everything that went down through the security cameras linked to her tablet - she was one of the few people in this life that had met my ex.

I was gently manoeuvred into the back seat, my head resting on Charlie's lap as she played with my hair. Sam had waited outside the impala for a few minutes before climbing into the passenger seat, slamming the door closed. Not five minutes had passed when the door slammed again as Dean clambered in, the stench of blood thick on his clothes, however the comforting scent of his cologne still managed to waft through. He turned to face me, those mossy green eyes piercing into mine as he said with the gentlest tone he could muster:

“It’s done, sweetheart.”

——————————————————————

Next: Chapter 12

——————————————————————

@suckitands33 @jackles010378 @aliceeinwonderland420 @tina-theslytherin @deans-queen @hobby27 @sobearcowboy @girls-alias @selfdestructionandrhum @ericasabe @lacilou @littlemadamred @anneanirac @deans-baby-momma @swimregulas @ashdoctor @littlemarvelstan8 @atcamillanorrman @deangirl96 @zannemes @kr804573 @foxyjwls007 @divadinag @cookiemonstermusic258 @mysterialee @ababy-girl @joonseuph0ria @mxltifxnd0m @deans-spinster-witch @st4bl3-ch40s @feyresqueen @roseblue373 @clusterfuck-meup @urinternetmom @rachiem4-blog @ceeshellecee @mojos-hidden-castle @snowayumi @evzyi @mymuseisbipolar @magssteenkamp @koharuheartfilia @spookyysinsanity @safiyas-world @uncle-eggy @happyt0exist @supernaturalstilinski @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mrsjenniferwinchester

[joshfutturman]

ੈ♡˳ jhutch char love confessions gn!reader

summary: jhutch chars realising they're in love with you headcanons for josh futturman (future man), derek danforth (the beekeeper), mike schmidt (fnaf), billy (burn), clapton davis (detention) and peeta mellark (the hunger games). suggestive elements.

ੈ♡˳ josh futturman

♡ it hits him like a truck one day, the realisation that he loves you. he's not even with you in that moment, in his own bedroom, sitting up suddenly from bed. he repeats it over and over, testing how it feels on his tongue. . . oh god, he loves you. ♡ he's never felt like this before. sure he's had crushes and stuff, but nothing as strong as this. it knocks the wind from his lungs. he can't stop smiling. he has to tell you. ♡ your next date consists of him tripping over his words the whole time, not entirely out of character for futturman, but you can tell he's on edge. he skirts around the words the entire time, until you kiss. ♡ when your lips meet, slowly, tenderly - he can't help it. an 'i love you' slips out between breaths against your lips. his cheeks blaze, but they blaze even brighter when you tell him that you love him too.

ੈ♡˳ derek danforth

♡ he realises he loves you one day at a party, watching you mingle with guests. he watches how you expertly wrap them around your little finger, a sudden surge of jealousy flooding his mind. he doesn't want you being with anyone else, you're his. and - fuck, fuck, what? he loves you. ♡ fuck, derek panics. this can't happen. it's not supposed to happen. he doesn't do that romantic sappy shit. he's happy, happy with the way things are, right? how did you manage to get so close? how are you doing this to him? ♡ he realises he doesn't want those other partners, flings, whatever, he just wants you. and he holds it in for as long as he can, bursting at the seams with love for you. ♡ it's not until you're both on the verge of climax one night, when it slips out unexpectedly in a moment of vulnerable passion, his lips ghosting against yours. it's out before he's even realised he's said it. but he means it, fuck he means it with everything in him. and it comes naturally to you too, echoing it as you capture his lips in yours.

ੈ♡˳ mike schmidt

♡ mike schmidt doesn't believe he deserves love. so when he realises how hopelessly in love with you he's fallen, he curses himself. he shouldn't, he can't. it'll only end badly for him, it's a pattern in his life he's cursed to follow. ♡ he starts to avoid you, stops asking you out, stops calling as often. you're hurt. and he hates that he's hurting you, but it's better for both of you. maybe if he can slip away silently, he can pretend he doesn't cherish the ground you walk on, maybe he can pretend you're not the love of his life. ♡ you greet him angrily at his front door, you're not going to let him slip away from you. you're met with resistance, until the words tumble from his lips in an avalanche of pent up feelings. ♡ it makes you pause, noting the sadness in his eyes. you cup his cheeks, gently guiding his face towards yours. you admit your love too, kissing his lips softly, repeating it as the look on his face tells you he doesn't believe your words, can't believe your words. but you'll prove it to him, every day for the rest of your lives if you have to.

ੈ♡˳ billy

♡ billy will tell you that he doesn't do 'love'. it's cliche, it's sickening. it's all to hide the fact though, that he's so clearly falling deeply in love with you. ♡ it's a sinking feeling that makes him feel sick, how much he cares for you. he finds himself thinking about you on drives, aching to have your hand in his. and he feels stupid, because he's never felt like this before. all those sickening love songs suddenly start to make sense, and he finds himself humming them occasionally. ♡ but how can he tell you? how can he tell you he loves you when his stomach forms knots at the very thought? it's too much, his soul will be laid too bare for him to handle any kind of heartbreak after that. instead he keeps his feelings to himself, cold, quiet, hoping they die away. ♡ they don't though, they blossom when you tell him you love him one day. you explain that you know he doesn't 'do love', but that you can't help it, you love him, and that's that. billy can't help it, he grabs your stupid dumb lovable face and kisses you till you both can't breathe, mumbling an 'i love you too' under his breath.

ੈ♡˳ clapton davis

♡ he realises he loves you one day while skating, and does something he hasn't done in a long time. fall. his body connects with the ground and he lays there, staring up at the pale blue sky passing him by. his arm stings a little from the impact, but he doesn't care. a smile spreads across his face, he loves you. ♡ clapton loves you, a lot. it's like a curtain has been pulled in his mind, revealing what was there all along. he's smiling, chuckling to himself as he wonders how he didn't realise it sooner. you're like, the coolest person ever. of course he's in love with you. ♡ he spends two whole weeks listening to 'if it's love' by sting. he sings it in the shower, hums it while out skating, mumbles it under his breath during classes. 'if it's love, it has no season, if it's love, there is no cure, if it's love, it won't see reason, and of this you can be sure. . .' - man, sting just. . . gets him. he totally understands the feelings he feels for you. ♡ and that's how he tells you, in a mixtape titled to you. the first song is that same song, and as you place it in and hit play, clapton rambles on about how he's fell head over heels for you. it's the cutest thing you've ever heart, the cutest thing anyones ever done for you - and you don't think you've ever seen him smile as wide as he does when you tell him you love him too.

ੈ♡˳ peeta mellark

♡ peeta fell in love with you the day he met you. it wasn't hard to fall, not when you clicked the moment you both said hello. they say love at first sight isn't real, but peeta knows you're proof that belief is wrong. ♡ he shows his love without words through his baking, sweet treats left at your doorstep, leftovers from the bakery brought on dates, asking you to try his experimental new recipe. he tells you he loves you through actions, through his kindness and patience. the way he gently tucks your hair behind your ear, holds doors open for you, or just simply listens with those sweet, gentle eyes. ♡ and he knows it's silly, maybe, how in love with you he really is. but he knows all to well that life is too short to hold back. he'd kick himself if he never got the chance to tell you how he really felt about you. ♡ so it's not hard for him to find the words when the time is right. they leave his lips, firm and strong, proudly almost. because he's been telling you he loved you from the day he met, albeit silently. and he'll tell you forever, until he proves just how special you are to him.

[jakesaverse]

ECHOES OF YESTERDAY | JAKE SIM CH.1

Synopsis: On her 21st birthday, Y/n wakes up overwhelmed by guilt and sorrow. It’s not just her birthday; it’s also the third anniversary of her high school boyfriend Jake’s tragic death. Surviving the accident that took Jake’s life, Y/n is haunted by memories of their love and the future they lost. In a moment of desperate longing, she makes a wish to see Jake again and is miraculously transported back in time to when Jake was alive. However, she finds that Jake now hates her, adding a new layer of pain and confusion. Determined to change his fate and earn his tolerance, she resolves to do everything in her power to ensure he escapes death this time.

Reader: Jake x Reader

Author’s note: Hi! Hope everyone is having a good day/night 🫶. The first chapter is finally out! I hope you guys like it and I know it’s all over the place and yes, it’s intentional 😭.

MASTERLIST | PREV | NEXT

You woke up with your heart pounding in your chest. The room was still dark, the early morning light just beginning to seep through the curtains. You lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the familiar heaviness settle over you. Tomorrow was your birthday, but it was also the anniversary of the worst day of your life.

Three years had passed since the accident, but the pain was as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. You could still hear the screech of tires, the sickening thud, and the deafening silence that followed. Jake had been your world, your first love, and he had been taken from you in an instant.

As you sat up in bed, you felt the tears begin to flow, unchecked and relentless. Guilt gnawed at your insides, a constant reminder that you had survived while he had not. "Why him and not me?" You whispered into the void, your voice trembling with anguish. Every year, this day brought a renewed sense of loss and a crushing weight of survivor's guilt.

You reached for the locket around your neck, a gift from Jake on your 18th birthday. Inside was a picture of you and him, smiling and carefree, a stark contrast to the broken person you had become. You clutched it tightly, as if hoping to draw strength from the memory of his love.

The hours dragged on, each second a painful reminder of the life you had lost. You tried to distract yourself, to push the memories away, but they were relentless. Every corner of your room held a piece of your past, a reminder of the plans you had made and the future you would never share.

You made your way to the kitchen, your movements slow and deliberate. You poured yourself a cup of coffee, the mundane task offering little comfort. As you sat at the table, you stared at the empty chair across from you, imagining Jake sitting there, his infectious smile lighting up the room.

The guilt was suffocating. You had tried to move on, to live a life that honored his memory, but it was never enough. Every laugh felt like a betrayal, every moment of happiness tainted by the shadow of his absence. You had survived, but you weren’t really living.

The day stretched on, a blur of tears and memories. You decided to visit his grave, despite it being a harsh reminder of the finality of his loss. You stood in front of the mirror, trying to make yourself presentable despite the tears streaming down your face. You thought about how badly you needed comfort, and how there was no one who could provide that except Jake.

You fumbled with your hair, attempting to smooth it down, but your hands were shaking too much. You tried to dab at your eyes with a tissue, but the tears kept coming, making it impossible to hide the redness and puffiness. Frustration bubbled up inside you as you realized you couldn't make yourself look composed, no matter how hard you tried.

The cemetery was cloaked in the deep blues and purples of twilight. Each step feels like a struggle, your legs weighed down by the overwhelming grief that has settled in your chest. The wind whispers through the trees, carrying with it the faint scent of earth and flowers, a bittersweet reminder of life and death intertwined.

You stood alone, your shoulders shaking with silent sobs as you clutch a small bouquet of Jake's favorite flowers, your fingers trembling as you approach the familiar headstone. The sight of his name etched into the cold, unyielding marble is a cruel confirmation of the reality you wish you could escape. You fall to your knees, the flowers slipping from your grasp and scattering across the grave.

"Jake," you whisper, your voice barely audible, choked with emotion. "Jake, I miss you so much." The words spill out, raw and unfiltered, as if speaking them aloud could somehow bridge the chasm between you.

Tears stream down your face, unchecked and relentless. You reach out, tracing the letters of his name with a trembling finger, your touch gentle and reverent. "Why did you have to leave me? Why did this happen to us?" Your voice cracks, breaking under the weight of your sorrow.

Memories flood your mind, each one a dagger to your already shattered heart. You remember his laughter, the way his eyes sparkled with mischief and love, the warmth of his embrace. The pain of his absence is unbearable, a gaping wound that refuses to heal.

“I can't do this without you," you cry, your voice rising in desperation. "I need you, Jake. I need you here with me." You cover your face with your hands, sobbing uncontrollably, your body shaking with the force of your grief. The world around you seems to blur, your vision clouded by tears and anguish.

As you sit there, broken and weeping, the reality of Jake's absence sinks deeper.

From a distance, Sunghoon watched you, his heart aching with every step he took. In his hands, he clutched a bouquet of sunflowers, their bright yellow petals a sharp contrast to the somber surroundings. They reminded him of Jake's infectious energy, his ability to light up even the darkest days.

Sunghoon approached quietly, not wanting to startle you. As he got closer, he saw you wipe away tears with the back of your hand, your breath coming in ragged gasps. He hesitated for a moment, then softly cleared his throat.

You turned around, your eyes red and puffy from crying. "Sunghoon," you whispered, your voice cracking.

“Hey," he said gently, holding out the sunflowers. "I thought these might brighten things up a bit. They reminded me of Jake."

You took the bouquet with trembling hands, a small, grateful smile breaking through your tears. "Thank you," you murmured. "He would have loved these."

Sunghoon nodded and took a seat next to you, the two of you sitting in a heavy silence for a few moments. Finally, he spoke, his voice filled with a mix of sorrow and fondness. "You know, Jake was always the one who could make us laugh, even when things were tough."

You nodded, your eyes fixed on the flowers. "Yeah, he had that gift."

"Remember the time he tried to start a YouTube channel with Jay?" Sunghoon continued, a small smile tugging at his lips. "He was so convinced they were going to be famous. 'The Jaykesters,' they called themselves."

You let out a choked laugh. "I remember. Jay couldn't even start the camera. He just stood there looking completely lost."

Sunghoon chuckled, the sound breaking through the tension that hung between them. "And Jake was so mad when we told him they sounded like a bunch of cats fighting. But he couldn't stay mad for long. He ended up laughing with us."

Your smile grew as you wiped away more tears. "He always had a genuine heart”

You stood in silence for a moment, the weight of your shared memories hanging in the air, but somehow, it felt a little lighter.

Sunghoon took a deep breath, looking up at the sky. "You know, Y/N, even though he's not here with us physically, Jake's spirit is still around. Every time we laugh at one of his old jokes or remember his crazy ideas, it's like he's here with us."

You nodded, clutching the sunflower tighter. "It's comforting to think of it that way. He wouldn't want us to be sad forever."

"Exactly," Sunghoon agreed. "He'd want us to keep living, to keep making new memories, and to keep each other strong."

You smiled through your tears. "You're right. And as long as we have each other, we'll keep his memory alive.”

Sunghoon put an arm around your shoulders, giving you a reassuring squeeze. "We'll get through this together, Y/N. One day at a time."

There was another silence, but not because it was awkward—though maybe it was for Sunghoon. He knew tomorrow was also your birthday, as the day of the accident the whole friend group was together before it happened. He wasn’t sure if he should say anything, but every time he felt scared or wanted to back out, he remembered Jake’s words: “Always look after Y/N.” Jake said this when they first started dating and continued to say it throughout their relationship. He knew he couldn’t always be there to protect you, so he wanted his friends, who in a way were also yours, to help him with that.

"Hey, Y/N," he said softly, trying to muster a smile. "I know tomorrow isn't easy, but I wanted to give you something."

You looked at him curiously as he reached into his big jacket. From the inside pocket, he carefully pulled out a small cupcake, its frosting slightly smudged from the journey.

"I know it's not much," Sunghoon said, holding it out to you. "But I thought we could still celebrate your birthday a little early, even if it's just a little bit."

Your eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were mixed with gratitude. You took the cupcake from him, your hands trembling slightly. "Thank you, Sunghoon. This means a lot to me."

He smiled, relieved that you appreciated the gesture. "I know it's not what you might have wanted, but I thought it might bring a bit of light to today."

You nodded, your voice choked with emotion. "It's perfect. Thank you for thinking of me."

They stood together once again in silence for a moment, the cupcake between them a small but significant symbol of their bond. Despite the sadness of the day, Sunghoon's gesture brought a touch of warmth and comfort to your heart.

You stumble through the front door of your home, your emotions a whirlwind of confusion and pain. Sunghoon's thoughtful gesture at the cemetery had touched you deeply, but it also made everything so much more complicated. It was clear that people cared for you, but the thought of celebrating your birthday without Jake, who would forever remain the same age, was unbearable.

You can't do it. You can't think of growing older while Jake is gone. The weight of it all presses down on you, suffocating you with its intensity. With trembling hands, you frame the cupcake wrapper as a reminder of Sunghoon's kindness, a small beacon of light in your dark world.

As you stare at the framed wrapper, memories of Jake flood your mind. The way he used to smile, the sound of his laughter, the warmth of his embrace. It's all too much. You sink to the floor, clutching the frame to your chest, your sobs echoing through the empty house.

"Why did you have to leave me, Jake?" you cry out, your voice breaking. "I don't know how to do this without you. I don't know how to live without you."

The silence of the house seems to mock you, amplifying your loneliness. You look at the framed wrapper again, your vision blurred by tears. "Sunghoon tried so hard to make today bearable," you whisper. "But it's just not enough. I can't do this, Jake. I can't."

With a sense of finality, you rise to your feet and make your way to the bathroom. Your hands shake as you open the medicine cabinet and take out the bottle of pills. You stare at it for a moment, the weight of your decision settling over you.

"I'm sorry, Sunghoon," you murmur. "But I just can't keep going."

You pour a handful of pills into your palm and swallow them all in one go, the bitter taste lingering in your mouth.

You sat on your bed, clutching a worn-out photo of Jake, your fingers tracing the edges of his smiling face. Tears streamed down your cheeks, each drop a painful reminder of the love you had lost. "I miss you so much, Jake," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Why did it have to be you?"

The weight of the past three years pressed heavily on your chest, suffocating you with the memory of the accident. The screeching tires, the shattering glass, and Jake's lifeless body haunted you every waking moment. You had survived, but at what cost? The guilt gnawed at your soul, leaving you hollow and broken.

As the clock struck midnight, marking your 21st birthday, you closed your eyes tightly, your heart aching with a desperate longing. "I just want to see you again, Jake. Please, just one more time," you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper.

As the darkness begins to close in, you feel a strange sense of peace. You close your eyes, your last thoughts filled with memories of Jake, hoping that soon, you will be with him again.

You find yourself surrounded by a blinding white light, so intense that you have to shield your eyes. As the light starts to fade, you notice familiar shapes and colors coming into focus. You realize you're standing in a place filled with memories—your old high school.

Suddenly, you see Jake, standing at the edge of the field, smiling at you just like he used to. The sight of him brings a rush of emotions, and memories flood your mind.

You remember the first time you met Jake in freshman year, the way he awkwardly introduced himself and offered you a seat next to him in class. You recall the countless hours spent studying together, sharing secrets, and laughing at inside jokes. You remember the way his eyes would light up whenever he talked about his dreams and ambitions.

"Hey, Y/N," Jake's voice echoes in your mind. "Do you remember our first day here? You were so nervous, but you still managed to ace every test."

You smile at the memory, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Yeah, I remember. You were the one who helped me calm down."

The scene shifts, and you're now reliving the time Jake asked you to the prom. He was so nervous, fumbling with his words and blushing furiously. "Y/N, would you... would you go to prom with me?" he had asked, his voice trembling.

You had said yes, of course, and the dance was magical. You remember the way Jake held you close, the soft music playing in the background, and the feeling that everything was perfect.

Just as you're lost in these memories, the white light returns, brighter than before. You blink, and suddenly, you find yourself sitting in your high school classroom, wearing your old uniform. The room is filled with students, and as you look around, you notice Jake sitting across the room, his eyes fixed on you.

He gives you a small, knowing smile, and you feel a sense of deja vu. "Y/N, are you okay?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.

You nod, trying to make sense of everything. "I... I think so. This feels so real."

Jake leans closer, his expression serious. "Y/N, sometimes the past can help us understand the present. Remember the good times and let them guide you."

You suddenly feel a jolt, as if being pulled back to reality. The white light around you dissolves, and you hear a loud, incessant beeping.

When you opened your eyes, you were no longer in your room. You found yourself back in your high school hallway, surrounded by the familiar sights and sounds of a time long past. Your heart pounded in your chest as you spotted him—Jake, alive and well. The sight of him brought a flood of emotions, a mix of joy and unbearable sorrow.

“Jake?" You called out, your voice trembling with hope and fear.

He turned to face you, but the look in his eyes was not one of love or recognition. It was a cold, distant stare that pierced your heart. "What do you want, Y/n?" he snapped, his voice dripping with bitterness.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt as if the ground had been ripped out from under you. This wasn't the Jake you remembered. This Jake despised you, and you had no idea why. The pain of his rejection was almost too much to bear, but you couldn't give up.

Determined to change his fate and win back his trust, you vowed to do whatever it took to make things right and ensure he escaped death this time.

taglist: @belovedsthings @en-chantedtomeetyou @syazzzlisa @k1ttylvr @jaeyunpinkyring @dreamiestay @soobs-things @capri-cuntz @beomgyusimp @heelariously @thinkinboutbin @jyunsgf @lwavander @chaewonshoney @maliakealoha @addictedtohobi @welovechaes @shaniandme @chocminteu @lilyuwon @kgneptun @dojaejunging @binniesbabe @asteria-wood

[animeyanderelover]

hello! happy holidays to you, hope your new year turns out well!

firstly, id like to request more yanderes of your choice, maybe the newer fandoms, with that prompt i suggested long ago, about darling distancing themselves to plan on how to confess to yanderes.

and then for my last request, id like to request random yanderes of your choice again, with the happy death day prompt

i just like giving you room to write what you want so yea, I'm glad with anything

Thanks so much!

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusion, death, paranoia, stalking, abduction, isolation, suicidal thoughts

Happy Death Day

Shinmon Benimaru

❤️‍🔥​There are no words in the dictionary that could even begin to describe the pain he's going through as his red eyes can't tear themselves away from your burnt corpse, the sickening smell of burnt flesh invading his nostrils as his stomach is contracting, pushing his lunch slowly up until Benimaru feels a sour taste pushing at the back of his throat. He's dizzy and feels nauseous, hears his own heartbeat drumming agonizingly fast against his chest as the sound drowns out everything else around him. He doesn't notice how Konro gently puts a hand on his shoulder, how the twins start weeping when seeing your corpse or how the citzens of Asakusa form a crowd, shocked and sad as all of them knew that you were Benimaru's partner. Eventually the man stumbles back, seemingly in a trance as he makes his way past a worried Konro and all citizens, the image of your burnt body forever engraved into his brain, a testament to his failure. There's a slight sway to his steps, his legs feeling weak and fragile just like the rest of him. He barely makes it past a few houses before he stops and has to support himself, a numbing feeling taking over.

❤️‍🔥​You wake up with a startle from your horrific dream, your clothes sticking to your skin due to the sweat. There's a heavy weight surrounding you and it takes you a moment to realize that this weight is physical and not the aftermath of your terrifying dream. It's in fact your lover who has somehow managed to curl himself around you, arms wrapped around your waist and legs entangled with your own. His hold is tight like one of a constrictor snake and his skin is noticably hot. You feel more sweat start to arise on your body and you do your best to turn around as good as you can, flinching again when you see his red eyes already looking at you. For a while you just look at him and hope he'll understand what you want, when he instead just cuddles you even closer and puts his head in the crook of your neck, you realize he doesn't have any intentions to let you go in the foreseeable future. You have to slap his arm in the end and tell him that you want him to ease his hold and let you go so that you can go to the bathroom. He pounders over your wish for a while before he hesitantly lets you go. When you return from the bathroom, Benimaru is sitting, waiting for you.

❤️‍🔥​Now, you know that Benimaru has his clingy moments with you but something is just off with him today. He persistently follows you around the moment morning arrives and you stand up, laboriously that is as you have to fight his arms off. You feel like he's a little duckling, a muscular and very powerful duckling, but a clingy duckling nonetheless. It's almost slightly creepy as he hovers around you and doesn't allow you to leave his sight, he's even standing in front of the goddamn door leading to the bathroom as if fearing that something might happen. Obviously he doesn't mention it to you as he doesn't want you to worry but this nightmare has bothered him too much to act completely nonchalant. You don't see the reason to tell him about your nightmare either so both of you just attempt to go on with your daily routine as normal. Until both of you realize the familiar pattern in today and in the dream both of you had. Benimaru isn't necessarily superstitious but those are one too many similarities.

❤️‍🔥​Neither Konro nor the twins seem to know anything but what about you? Benimaru's eyes turn to you as he observes you to see if you perhaps know anything. Surely enough he sees cracks in your facade you try to put on as every little thing you remember from your dream puts your nerves more on edge. A confirmation for him, at the very latest when he doesn't pull his bluntless and asks you the same question that has been tormenting him since the earliest morning. Have you seen your own death today in your dreams? You can't hide the shock and silent fear on your face and the same silent horror resonates somewhere deep inside Benimaru's heart. But that's alright. This can be avoided if you simply stay at home today and don't go out. He hushes your protests quickly, not willing to hear any of them. Your life is far more important than any plans you could have had today. You find yourself feeling much more smothered with his presence even after the Infernal is taken care of as something inside Benimaru is slightly damaged. He's always known about dangers of Infernals but it's the first time that he's experienced the indescribable amount of pain of losing you because he wasn't fast enough.

Roy Mustang

​🔥​It is hard to put into words what's going on inside of Roy as he's informed about your death that happened during a terrible accident whilst he was working on some documents in his office. He just stares at whoever delivered the message to him for a good amount of time as the weight of those words take a while to penetrate his skin and sink in. When everything has finally settled, he suddenly stands abruptly up, his chair tumbling back and his hand banging onto the surface of the desk, sending a few documents flying as his gaze widens and his whole face twists into a horrified and frenzied mask. All his duties are forgotten as he storms out, ignores everyone who worriedly asks him what's wrong as he runs down the halls, headed to the scene where the accident happened. As soon as the location becomes visible to him, he's feeling nauseous. A carriage that lost a wheel went out of control and crashed into the pavement, hurting a couple of people. Riza accompanies him to the morgue later on for moral support as Roy is already shaking and breathing erratic. When he's shown your corpse, he instantly turns around, supports himself against the wall, sounds akin to a dying animal leaving his throat.

​🔥​Hot palms are clinging to you the moment you wake up from your all but pleasant dream, warm and troubled breath coming from next to you. When you turn around, you notice how Roy is visibly shaking next to you, feel his muscles tightening and trembling. When you touch his face, you feel beads of sweat covering his skin. He's having quite obviously a nightmare so you quickly start shaking him and calling his name quietly to wake him up. One of his hands grabs your wrist tightly as he's at first only half-awake, muttering something from it being your fault, whatever it might be. A few seconds later he snaps out of it though and realizes with shock what he's doing, quickly releases your wrist. Then he's shuffling closer to you, cradles your face gently in his hands and lets his eyes roam over you frantically as if in slight disbelief that you're even here. You're confused but don't say anything. Eventually Roy unwinds a bit, his body relaxing as he pulls you closer to him in a tight hold.

​🔥​Breakfast with him that morning is strange. As soon as you want to leave the room, he instantly questions you on where you plan to go and his eyes are a lot more on you than they normally are, carefully observing your every move as if afraid that something will happen to you otherwise. You know that he's had a nightmare and you assume that his behavior might be because of it but you did too and you're not acting like that. And you saw yourself dying after all. Even when you shortly go outside to retrieve the newspaper which is always delievered to your house by a kind boy, he wants to know what you're doing. You're already in the process of reading it when you return to the kitchen but you stop midway through the door frame, eyes glued to the contents of the paper. Instantly you catch Roy's attention who stands up from his chair and is next to your side with a few huge steps, questioning you worried what's wrong before his dark eyes also fly over tha article. His face loses all color in only a few seconds.

​🔥​Not because there are shocking news written on the paper, it's because everything written there is eerily familiar. He's read this very same newspaper before in his dream. On the day where you died. Roy is so much in shock and fear that it takes a few moments for him to notice but then it suddenly clicks and dark eyes slowly look at you, still transfixed on the newspaper with fear all over your face. Then you feel his intense gaze on you though and flinch, slowly and almost hesitantly meeting his eyes. You...why are you so scared? This isn't a secret you can keep away from him as he forces you to sit down and interrogates you almost, demanding you in a desperate tone to tell him the truth. You give in eventually and admit it to him and his face twists once again into an ugly mask of horror and paranoia. He's pacing back and forth in the kitchen for a while, distantly wondering about possibilities of having a prophetic dream or something similar to that before he abruptly stops and turns to you. You'll stay home. It isn't a request it's a demand he won't let you argue with, too consumed by his own paranoia of losing you. Roy becomes worse after that day, far more controlling and monopolizing.

Mizuki

​🐍​The scent of blood is overwhelming, the red liquid everywhere. It's staining the material of your clothes, your once beautifully bright eyes dull and empty and your mesmerizing and serene heartbeat forever silenced. Never again will he hear your gorgeous laughter or catch a glimpse of your mesmerizing smile. You might as well have just taken Mizuki with you to the afterlife as his heart dies together with the loss of you. The shikigami is a mess, covered in tears, snot and your blood as he sobs and cries with a loud and broken voice. He's forgotten how to breathe, his breath getting caught in his lungs, his chest moving rapidly and his vision blurry. His clothes and his white skin are stained with your blood as he clings to your dead body, desperately and uselessly hoping and begging to sense a heartbeat yet only terrifying silence engulfs the both of you. If you hear his wails in the distance, leave. Mizuki will attack and hurt everyone who dares to appraoch the two of you right now. He doesn't want to be alone, he can't do it alone! Oh...he knows! He'll just follow you! Yes! As soon as he's buried you somewhere around his shrine, he'll go with you! Your one and only loyal shikigami will go everywhere with you.

​🐍​The spirits in his shrine can only scurry away in horror as soon as Mizuki awakes from his slumber, livid, confused and above everything else in unbelievable pain. It's pulsing through his veins, it squeezes all air out of his lungs and claws at his heart to the point where he clutches his chest in pain. Green eyes are darting back and forth, glowing maliciously, his pupils mere slits. He's gazing at his hands and his outfit, as clean as ever with not even the slightest drop of blood on them. Mizuki knows better though than to brush it off, it's a feeling he has deep inside his bones and soul. This dream meant something, showed him something that will happen. Paranoia poisons his mind and heart quickly and in the next moment he's rushing outside the shrine, hissing at the spirits of the place to quickly finish the room he's been preparing for your arrival for a while now. It isn't finished yet but that's alright, he'll do it soon. First he has to retrieve you.

​🐍​You're largely minding your own business on that day, although that terrifying nightmare of yours is still haunting you. You've never had a dream as detailed and gory as this but you do your best to ignore it. You're not superstitious and do your best to be as stubborn as you can be to remain oblivious to every single similarity you notice to the nightmare you had. It can't be, it can't be, it can't be. A mandra you repeat as often as you can to convince yourself that nothing is wrong. Whilst you're on your way outside though, your attention is drawn to a white snake. You're slightly startled, take a few cautious steps back as it stares at you with it's eyes. You're unsure what it wants from you until you feel another one sliding up your leg. You shriek, try to pull it away only to notice with growing fear that even more snakes emerge from the bushes and inch closer to you. Within all of this you suddenly feel two hands wrapping themselves around you from behind, a voice whispering to you that everything will be fine.

​🐍​When you wake up, you're on a tatami mat and wrapped up in a cozy blanket. You're slightly confused of where you are before the image of white scales and green eyes return to you, the purr of a sickenly sweet voice before you passed out. When you abruptly sit up as it dawns on you that you've been abducted, you feel a sudden weight clinging to your form. As soon as you look down, you're met with white hair and piercing green eyes looking with an excited shimmer at you. Before you can scream, run away, do anything this man, the same one who abducted you, sits up with a thrilled and lovesick smile on his face. He's welcoming you in your new home, apologizes for the sudden events and promises you to get all your stuff as quickly as possible and to finish decorating the room to your liking soon. He's disturbingly indifferent about the fact that he kidnapped you. You manage to stutter out who he is and why you're here, a question that seems to trigger him somehow as you feel how he heaves himself up your body, closer and tighter, until his head is resting on the spot where he can feel your heartbeat. There were some dangers...but don't concern yourself about it. Your shikigami has already taken care of it.

Vanitas

🌙​The usually smug and flirtatious man is gone in an instant when he finds your dead body, another casualty in an attack of another curse-bearer. He only finds out after having saved them though, if he would have known beforehand he might have just refused to cure them. Blue eyes are filled with pure hatred and Noél fears that he might just attack the vampire he just saved, he certainly looks like it. His whole body is trembling, his breath is erratic and there is a frenzied look on his face akin to one of a murderer. Hatred is always the least painful emotion, the one which offers distraction from the pain and it oozes out of his entire being in that moment. This short freedom of pain and reality, of only hatred, lasts only a few moments though before it all collapses and reveals the broken man Vanitas has always been, only to be shattered even more. He kneels down next to the body of yours, takes you softly in his arms and bites down onto his lip until he tastes blood, trying his best to not cry. Nothing is gained though as salty tears fall from his eyelashes and silent sobs start wrecking his body as he starts gently rocking back and forth, clutching you tightly to his chest. You aren't supposed to leave him! Not like this!

🌙​As soon as he wakes, the world is spinning. Hot and cold shivers go down his spine, he feels beads of sweat dropping down his temple and his heartbeat goes frenzy inside his chest. He clutches his clothes resting right above his racing heartbeat, finds himself struggling to take a simple breath as his chest feels heavy. Everything feels wrong, everything feels scary and subconsciously as he isn't able to focus properly, one of his shaky hands makes his way over to you until it feels your warm body with his fingertips. Safe and sound, asleep right next to him. A sweet yet stinging sweetness that has his heart swelling as a wave of dolorous relief takes a hold of the man and he feels hot tears dripping down his face, muffled sobs escaping his lips as he does his best to not wake you up. He's too vulnerable, too helpless and ugly to allow you to let you see him right now, suffers all alone in silence until morning comes creeping around and you wake up.

🌙​You wake up to be greeted with the sight of a rarely vulnerable-looking Vanitas. He's asleep, appears to have snuggled deeper into the blanket as his head is resting close to your chest so that you're almost tempted to cradle his head. Eyelashes flutter open though to reveal magnificent blue eyes staring up to you and for a short moment you imagine to see a flash of pain and sorrow darkening them before they return to their normal sparkle, playful and willing to tease you. He can not under any circumstances let you know about his nightmare because he isn't a child anymore. He doesn't need to run to you as soon as he's had a nightmare to get your comfort. So he does his best to act as normal as he can, teases you to his heart's content. He's an waful lot more frightful though and terribly observing so neither the events of this day nor your own slowly changing mood are missed. He feels his lungs filling with paranoia when he draws the horrible conclusion.

🌙​Hands hold your face softly, a contrast to his fingertips digging into your cheeks as blue eyes have returned to the broken and maniac look you thought you'd only imagined before. You can't fully blame him though as you've recognized yourself what's going to happen today. You got in a bit of an argument with Vanitas about how to proceed though, leading you to this current position. You've never seen him so out of control, see the tears shimmering in his eyes and the tremors going through his body with the memory of the dream. He won't let it happen again though. You won't leave him all alone in this world. You, the only person around whom he doesn't hate himself as much as he normally does. You're scared of this Vanitas though as he's far too unpredictable, muttering more to himself than to you that he wil be prepared this time. The man has lost it, the realization that the day is merely about to repeat itself has broken him as he vows to go against destiny to ensure that you live. He'll go against your own wishes as well as you're clearly less concerned than he is. Can't you listen to him just this once?! Careful now or you might end up in chains, Vanitas is certainly unhinged enough now

[merlinmerlot]

We finally finished the fifth elephant.

I wish I could say after my 2nd reading I enjoyed this book, but unfortunately it's marred by painful pacing and deeply frustrating overtures to any of the actually good scenes.

Read more for my full thoughts:

Fifth Elephant is a book that struggles with its identity in a way I haven't seen in previous watch books, and it's made all the more maddening by the fact that out of the twenty million things the book tries, there is some stuff of substance! But you can never quite get a handle on any of them because the book is so damn busy!

I struggle to pinpoint a main theme in this book. Is it about fascism, the consequences of long distance communication, or gender and race in conservative society? The book doesn't doesn't stay with any of these concepts for long enough, which results in a muddy plot.

Is it about the past, the future, history, belief, traditions, what it means for things to stay the same and yet change, and what that means for truth? But that feels like well traveled ground, especially with Men At Arms and Feet of Clay, and honestly, this book doesn't sell this well enough to me, because while it’s Telling me these things, it's not actually Saying anything with them.

While Pratchett makes a point to give Klatch space to breathe, and make it a country on its terms (though, admittedly, he falls into orientalist tropes), Uberwald is plagued by Western exceptionalist writing choices. Why does Pratchett connect ideas of the future to Ankh Morpork (a proto-capitalist state), and imply that Uberwald must be forcefully pulled along with it? Why are there multiple scenes about how much the people of Uberwald hate living there, that they want to go to ‘modern’ Ankh Morpork, without really scrutinizing Why that is? Why is the fact that Ankh Morpork has become Such a global economic power not explored in a critical way, at least not thoroughly? (Especially since I Know Pratchett is capable of it. He did it with Jingo.)

I think the biggest crime this book does, though, is with its characterization of Vimes. I can't fathom the ‘why’, but for some reason Pratchett leans into the hyper-masculine noir traits of Vimes' character. They’ve always been there, but while the other books took a satirical spin to it, there's a certain romanticizing of it in this book. Vimes’ violent, ‘beastly’ nature is bad and Scary, but oh, isn't it Cool and Dark and Edgy too? Look how this strong, bloody man frightens the townsfolk, smokes a cigar while he shoots a man to save his poor wife. This is tolerable in bite sized portions, but in Fifth Elephant it's like sickening sweet. Why does Vimes kill a man in the streets, on purpose, (the first time he does that in the climax of these books!) and it's hardly addressed! (Yes, Wolfgang deserved it. But when So Much of Vimes' character is delegated to Not giving in to the Easy Choice, why is this decision not given the space it needs? Especially RIGHT after Jingo!)

There's just this strange sense of a focus on masculinity in this book that wasn't in any of the others. Like, why is it that in the Uberwald book, we spend more time with Carrot chasing Angua then with Angua herself? Why the hell is this not an Angua book? Why, in every scene where she has to confront her problems, whether that be her family or otherwise, must she be saved by a man? 

And all of this is a shame because there Are some scenes I really enjoy in this book! I love when we see Sybil and the wedding pictures, I love Vimes getting chased by werewolves. I find Inigo a really fun character, and I LOVE MARGOLOTTA. The parallels between the clacks towers and modern day communication, the little crumbs here and there of spy media tropes, the addiction metaphors, the werewolf family! But that's the kicker! We never spend enough time with Any idea! And none of it connects well enough together! Which is crazy, because Jingo and Feet of Clay were both such Cohesive stories. 

Regardless. I’m looking forward to The Truth because I really missed Ankh Morpork in this book. And Also Vetinari. (who, funnily enough, is hardly in this book. I guess he took up too much space in Jingo).

My final thoughts: Vimes should have had a daughter instead. 

[txtmetonight]

Camille 2000 ✆

call summary ⋆ ★ You're going to have a midnight dance with your lover

pairing *. * Park Sunghoon x Fem! Reader

genre⋆ ★ Fluff, Angst (Forbidden Lovers)

warnings *. Blood, Violence

call duration⋆ ★ 1.8k

a/n*. * This is a repost!! Also, this is inspired by one of my favorite songs by Piero Piccioni

You weren’t really sure of yourself right now.  

Breathing hard, your hands find purchase on a random suitor, who took your hand without your consent, twirling you around, as a way to welcome you into a dance.

Repeating dance steps; glide, spin, turn, and lean continued on and on as you dance with this stranger, or more so truthfully, many more strangers that night.  

You were starting to feel light-headed and out of breath, remembering the promise you gave to your parents; you were to find a boy by one to wed. Your vision spun as each ‘lucky’ man tried his part to win your heart, win the place you as the future ruling queen once your parents passed away from old age.

Other young women also looked for their future husband-to-be, pretty girls of high status, strutting around with a multitude of colors showering down on them. It’s an ugly–despising sight.  

Excusing yourself messily from the confused boy, you take long strides to the garden that awaits outside through the long maze of marble hallways.

Pillars upon pillars came into sight as you messily wiped away salty droplets, ruining the mascara you put on earlier, not that you cared when all your mind spun around was about your midnight lover.

The clock struck twelve, alarming surrounding crows and causing them to belch their loudest caws as you ran down the impending steps of pure rock, hands clutching the spring green and pastel pink ball gown, so you didn’t tumble down.  

The pearly crown on your head was hanging on barely, and the strands of your hair came undone with every step you took, only slowing down as the bushy green walls came into view, making you sob even more, dizzily taking light steps towards the entrance, stumbling in your heels proceeding you take them off.

The air was perfumed with champagne and the lightest touch of sweet candy. At the same time, the fluttering butterflies flapped their beautiful wings, around a certain man who stood behind the white marble fountain, obviously pondering the deep thoughts of the unknown.  

But god he was so alluring, as the pale moonlight cast a dewy look on his softened features, that reflected off his silver suit, and if you let your eyes stray a little farther, a sharp-ended sword lain across the green grass, collecting dewdrops.  

“Sunghoon!” You sob, as you let yourself out, the joints in your knees unable to hold up your deep-rooted sorrows, falling right into a metal suit, head rolled against his arm as the worried boy sits you up, wiping away your salty tears. 

“Love...” He whispers, mouth close to your flushed ears, hugging you close. He knows exactly what you’re feeling–the pure heartbreak that aches your insides up. The pain of love and the deadly dagger it holds upon its clutches.  

“This isn’t fair! I don’t want anyone else!” You wail, looking up at his frown, delicate hands reaching up his face to smear his lips, thumb stroking the side of his mouth. You whine like a petulant child and it’s horribly sickening to see. Yet Sunghoon doesn’t mind as he wipes away the moonlight of streaks down your cheeks.  

“Me too darling.” He rubs his hands up your opened back, his warmth sending shockwaves down your skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your cheeks, relishing in the bittersweet moment.

“Let’s just run away” you mumble without a doubt, shoving your palm down his armor to feel his erratic heartbeat, leaning your head on the cold metal once you did.  

He stays silent for a moment, eyes closed as he slithers his fingers across your palms and up the stomach of your dress, drawing a small ‘I love you’ onto the cloth before he breathes awake, adams apple, gulping when he doesn’t break eye-contact with your curious eyes.

“Let’s have one last dance, shall we then?”  

Sunghoon brings your hand close to his lips, pressing a long kiss to your ring finger before lifting you up, rubbing his forehead against yours in affection. You nod with his words, and he pulls you up into a hug.  

Ball songs echoed onto the nightly daze, letting the creatures that roamed the area have a chance to flow with the heavenly music. The crickets chirped along as the owls perched and ruffled their feathers to the soothing beat, watching two young adolescents clumsily place each other in the other’s hands, lips and eyes unable to flicker away for a second, drunk in love.  

Placing his hand on your waist just in time for a new tune to drift in, your heart skips a beat once you notice what was playing, a hint of surprise and fluster on Sunghoon’s cheeks as he pulls you closer, nodding his head into the crook of your shoulder, slowly swaying in the presence of a full moon, lips melting in with each other.

Memories cascade down the lingering touches that you leave and the heavy hearts that you both heave in your chests. Yet the cavity that you used to dwindle was filled with the keys to each other.  

“You’re so beautiful, so pretty” He sighs, slightly tickling your waist, pulling back a little so he can meet your gaze. “I love you.”  

You smile as an answer, using two hands to pull him as close as possible, manageable to suffocate.  

“I love you too,” you softly reply, before pulling him back into another longing kiss, eyes closed, blindfolding your surroundings, too caught up in the moment, feeling as though if you let go, it would warp into a dream.  

Too bad that it was too late to realize the sword of your lover, was now punctured through your gut. Eyes widening open in shock, you catch Sunghoon weeping hard, his fingers massaging the aching wound in your lower abdomen, body shaking in guilt and sadness.  

“I’m so sorry love. God I’m so sorry, please forgive me. I promised–I promised your mother!” He breaks down, slowly catching you onto the ground, lungs unable to catch the air that you needed as you try to comprehend what he meant.  

“Huh?” You cough, tugging on the straps of his armor, and you knew that you were supposed to feel anger and betrayal at the situation, but you couldn’t help but relax him, splotching his tears around his streaked face.  

Intertwining your hand with his, you shakily let out an exhale, staring at him through your lashes, trying to preserve the last moments of your life. You grunt as he watches you incredulously before pulling out the dagger from your soaked body, pointing the metal blade towards his gut, ripping off his armor.

Using his slender fingers, he stabs himself quickly, penetrating deep enough to choke on rising blood.  

“I love you so much, I’m sorry darling” he quietly sobs, reaching for your arms which you let him take, flipping you over his blood-covered chest, hugging you tightly.  

Taking your last breaths, you leave a chaste kiss on his neck, where his heartbeat slows down into a rhythmic song, two heartbeats steadily dying out.  

[thee-horny-thicky]

Consequences

So a while back, I wrote what was supposed to be the beginning of another fic, about Suguru losing his girl to Satoru. However, I never picked it back up. With Savior concluded, I'll probably start working on it soon. Until then, enjoy this snippet :)

Every little choice you make has the potential to affect the very course of your future. Asking someone how they’re doing may prevent them from ending their own life. Deciding to ask a stranger for directions can lead to meeting your soulmate. Waking up too late can save you from being a victim of a brutal attack. Accepting a drink from a stranger can lead to you being kidnapped and sold. Driving your car just a little too fast can result in you dying a fiery death.

Making little choices that alter your life and that of those around you is the very basis of the butterfly effect. Your actions always have consequences, after all.

Suguru Geto was now learning this the hard way. Not answering a few texts, rejecting some invitations to hang out, and missing a few days of school seemed like minor choices. He hadn’t been in the right headspace for the past few weeks. Riko’s death had impacted him, and every day, he regretted not allowing Satoru to slaughter those fucking twisted cultists.

Their applause continued to echo through his head, the memory of the way they rejoiced at the death of an innocent girl never failing to sicken him.

He’d thought nothing of taking time to himself to cope and intended to make it up to every single one of his friends. You, most especially. He’d begun to long for the feeling of you in his arms and planned to treat you to a date night to apologize for his absence.

But actions have consequences, and the consequence for his was seeing Satoru flaunt you around the school. Unlike him, the heir of the Gojo clan had no reservations about showing you off to the world.

And why wouldn’t he? You were so quick-witted, a living challenge to the idea that pretty girls couldn’t be intelligent or capable. Your cursed energy could turn explosive, and he delighted in seeing the sadistic smile on your gorgeous face as you blew up 1st-grade curses with ease. You weren’t from a major clan, but you were from an upper-middle-class family of sorcerers that’d traveled the world, making you miles more experienced than most of your peers.

Your knowledge was something he loved about you, and your technique was something he admired about you. He adored seeing you high off adrenaline and caught up in a battle, how light your laugh sounded, the way your pretty eyes gleamed. The nature of your technique made you destructive, and you embraced that wholeheartedly.

You’d been the yin to his yang, and he allowed you to slip through his fingers.

Suguru hadn’t wanted to broadcast your relationship, not ready to fully commit to you. He was a part of the strongest duo, and that came with a lot of responsibility, which allowed little room for love.

Or, so it had seemed, as Satoru seemed to be juggling the two just fine. Because unlike him, Satoru had taken Riko’s death as a testament to how short life was and didn’t hesitate to take his chance with you.

He regretted not adhering to your pleas to publicly claim you, and anger would flare inside of him every time he wondered how long you held feelings for Satoru. Surely, his time away from you wasn’t enough for your feeling to fade away.

But either you were a damned good actress, or you’d truly fallen out of love with him, and transferred your feeling to his white-haired friend. The two of you were caught up in your own little world, giggling as Shoko looked at you and Satoru in disgust. Watching the two of you was sickeningly sweet, and whereas the brunette seemed repulsed by your bountiful PDA, it only made Suguru bitter.

It should be him holding you, not Satoru. The man already had everything, being blessed in every way imaginable. He had looks, money, power, and a stupidly large personality. Surely, it wouldn’t be too much to let Suguru have you? If anything, you should be his reward for all he’s gone through, not another thing he’s lost.

Satoru brushed his lips over yours, and though the kiss was chaste, it was too much for Suguru to bear. Were you trying to make him jealous, allowing your ex’s friend to be so handsy with you?

As Shoko faked a gag, Suguru shot from his seat. His friends look at him in confusion, while you merely rolled your eyes. When you look at him, there was no bitterness or satisfaction in your gaze. No, it was worse with that, as your eyes held no discernable feelings for him. It was a far cry from the way you looked at Satoru, so full of affection, the same you way used to look at him.

“You good, bro?” Satoru questioned; his arm wrapped around your shoulders.

No, he wasn’t, and his best friend was part of the reason why. He never gave much thought to the flirty comments Satoru aimed your way, because that’s just who Satoru is, a flirt. He thought it was just playful banter, not that he was expressing his true feelings for you.

How wrong he’d been.

“I’m fine,” he gritted out, gathering his things.

He could tell none of you believed him, but he didn’t care. He needed to get away from you and Satoru before he did something he’d regret.

“Where are you going?” Shoko asked, twirling the stick she kept in her mouth.

To find a curse to brutally kill. He needed a way to release his jealous rage.

“I have something to do.”

“Oh, wait, before you go, we’re going out tonight,” Satoru revealed, gently stroking your back as you leaned against him. “Wanna come?”

And see you all dolled up, wrapped around Satoru, and pretending he didn’t exist? He’d have to pass.

“I’ll see.”

“Oh, c’mon,” you whined, finally acknowledging him. “We haven’t hung out in so long!”

He had to hold back a scoff at your faux concern. If you really did care, you would’ve waited for him until he was ready to come back to you.

“…I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll text you the deets,” you said, ignoring his hesitance as you pulled your phone from your pocket.

Nodding, he began to walk away, stopping when his phone buzzed. His eyes widened at your message.

You: Stop being a little bitch and text Satoru back. He misses you.

You: I know you’ve seen them.

He quickly put his phone away, worried he’d throw the device if he stared at your texts much longer. Of course, you didn’t miss him. No, you were only concerned about Satoru.

Turning back, he shot you a glare, but your focus was again on Satoru. Not even Shoko noticed him, too concerned about making fun of you two.

Not bothering to hide his soured expression, he stomped away. Maybe he would go out tonight, just to put a damper on yours. Perhaps, he’d find a pretty thing to cuddle up with as you had with his best friend, though he doubted he’d elicit a reaction from you. Regardless, he needed some way to get the bitterness out of his system, and fucking it out might just be the best release possible.

So, as he stomped away, he fired off a text to Satoru to let him know he’d be in attendance.

[peonywithroses]

I saw the Genderbend TaigaRomeo again because I love it so much,,,,

Now I am in your inbox asking to share your thoughts on the genderbend TaigaRomeo agenda 🥺

hi there!! you're really too kind!!! thank you for loving those silly girls, it makes me super happy 😭🩷🫶 i will gladly share some of my thoughts about them, i'd call it my hcs and even a small theory of their circumstances at the end...? but anyone reading this i just want to warn you it may sound a bit ooc (+ a bit suggestive), i'm not good with such things that's why i rather stick to making doodles... but i did my best to share a bit of whatever is on my mind when thinking about them so please enjoy ^^;;;🩷

• • •

i like to think that romeo can be pretty affectionate when she wants to but decides not to unless taiga is unaware or completely knocked out. like when she finds taiga sleeping peacefully, her hands will always brush the other's hair in a gentle manner, mumbling about how terrible taiga is at taking care of it.

and we know that taiga is a messy eater, the blood of anomalies not only splattering on her face but also sticking together her hair and everything else. she doesn't care, at least not as much as romeo does, romeo who forcefully drags taiga to the bath to clean the girl up. and romeo will nag because she despises mess and nasty blood but there's something more to it. when she watch taiga undress, willing to sully her own hands with filth, fingertips lingering on the other's cheek and lips a bit too long to say it's a casual thing between them.

on the more nsfw side, i think they do it. yeah, they totally do it but it is never initiated by romeo. or more like, romeo has a lot of unspoken demands and taiga doesn't even need her luck to guess them right everytime, setting things in motion herself. she knows romeo's rules about foreplay, she knows the other likes to be treated like the most mighty one in this world and for taiga, she really is. that is why romeo cannot deny her a little indulgence here and there, especially when that kind of pleasure is a great stress reliever and god, bth is stressing her out everyday so she better work hard to pay it off now. when in good mood, romeo will even humour taiga by going along with the redhead's kinky ideas, be it bondage or anything else she might want to do this time.

"this is absurd." scoffs romeo while her hands are tied with the silky ribbon, color chosen to match her eyes. but taiga says nothing in return, hungry glint in green irises as she slowly lowers herself to have a little fun.

but in the end, their relation is still as turbulent as it appears at the first glance. it's not like romeo truly resents taiga or anything, no. but taiga changed after coming to darkwick, she doesn't understand why. whenever romeo gets in dire situation, she finds herself wishing for things to go back to the way it used to be before, when taiga was more reliable, when the future wasn't so scary because they got each other. but better than anyone she knows that life only goes forward, she has to think about the present and whether taiga choose to follow her or not is up to the other.

on the other hand, taiga basically lives in her head, not able to let it go. she knows what will happen in the future and it's too much to handle on her own but it's not like she wants to bother romeo. she will be happier unaware of the fate awaiting them... yet she's losing her mind slowly because of it. romeo's happiness is the only thing she wishes for, the only thing that keeps her somewhat sane in the this sickening world. that's why she will always do her best to defend romeo behind the scene. even if it costs her sanity to do so.

it's a bittersweet relationship in which they know they are bonded for life so there's no need to say it out loud but the more they try to protect each other, the further it drifts them away.

[cloverskentwells]

TITLE: untitled SUMMARY: Clove can't sleep, and so she makes the wise decision to break into her district partner's house.

--

Being a Games Victor, as it turns out, is mostly just facing a lifetime of sleepless nights alone.

She stares despondently up at the oscillating ceiling fan of her Victor's Village bedroom, from a bed that is the size of her old living room, and wonders why sleep remains so elusive to her. For maximized performance, the Academy had mandated that each Trainee achieved the eight hours a night required for optimal performance and alertness, so forcing herself to follow a strict sleep schedule - especially with the fear of what consequences her Trainers might inflict - had never been a problem for Clove, ever the obedient future Tribute.

But she can't help but think that this peaceful spacious room in a large mansion far removed from the lifestyle that the majority of Two's population experienced is too damn quiet. The oppressive silence looms over the big empty house like a living, present being, its breath on the back of her neck. The complete lack of sound should be a relief, but it only feels unnatural to her instead. Weeks in the Arena had taught her to fall asleep to the lullaby of insects chirping, fearful screams in the night, and the quiet growls of animals that seemed content to not attack them but still felt the need to make their presence known. Then there was the added effect of a crackling fire just a few feet away, warming her into a numb hibernation.

The fancy and expensive little noise machine she'd ordered from the Capitol (a lovely little perk of being a Victor, she now has disposable money to waste on completely useless technology) being set to Sounds of The Forest does little to help her - it's obvious that the nerds in District Three had never set foot outside of their homes let alone into any environment qualifying as nature.

Nor does dragging several blankets down the stairs and curling up on the floor next to her fireplace. Thankfully, living alone meant she never had to worry about how insane she looked, and no one is around to judge her for this odd little attempt at sleep. Regardless, this strategy is equally as ineffective.

Even the lovely ice cold metal of Clove's beloved knives resting against her bare skin does nothing to relax her. Unfortunately, she's beginning to identify the problem, although she is vehemently against acknowledging the fact that maybe her inability to force herself into unconsciousness is really caused by the absence of a person who had become, much to her dismay, an essential part of her sleep routine. Every single night in the Arena, without even meaning to, she'd settled into a sleeping bag positioned only inches from her district partner's and listened attentively to the evening out of his breathing, allowing it to soothe her into sleep.

Of course, she'd justified it to herself as a precautionary measure at the time - as if she couldn't hear whether or not he was truly asleep instead of preparing to attack her just as well from several feet away - but the alternative was to admit to herself that maybe she just found a source of comfort being near him, a safety that even the extensive arsenal of weaponry secured within the loops of her jacket couldn't give her.

And now, although the thought - the simple truth - is too absurd and sickening for her to stomach, apparently her body physically cannot sleep without Cato nearby.

Damn him.

She viciously grabs her pile of blankets in her arms with a frustrated huff and marches petulantly over to his house, which is conveniently right next door to hers. The lights are all off, meaning he must have been sensible enough to be long asleep by now. A little painful spasm twists in Clove's chest when she concludes that he must be doing just fine without her there, and her pride demands of her - begs her, really - to retreat back to her own home instead of letting it be obvious how much she needs him, how the distance that has lodged its way between them after the Games affected her. Which outcome would be worse - her never sleeping again, or allowing the boy who respected her more than anyone else, who expects far more from her, to see her as weak?

But the mere idea of spending the next several hours listlessly staring at her ceiling and contemplating how much easier it would be if she had simply never won the Games is too much for her to bear, so Clove chooses the path of least resistance - or, at least, the one where she won't be stuck in her home and trapped with her own thoughts - and creeps into Cato's home like a damn burglar. Except - he had given her a key for emergencies (making intense eye contact and inhaling deeply when he handed it to her, but Clove has no energy left to examine what any of that meant), so is she really a burglar? Perhaps an uninvited guest, maybe... without permission to enter his home...

Still, Clove is already halfway there. Might as well finish what she started.

She clutches her covers in one hand. gingerly taking great pains to avoid them hitting the floor, while closing the door and locking it behind her with the other. A wave of panic courses through her as she realizes that if he were to see her right now, Cato might assume she was here to steal from or assassinate him. Clove had heard of such incidents where some drunken idiot dared to break into a Victor's home and was found the next morning in the front yard with, at best, a severed tongue/broken limb or, at worst, his throat slit clean and wide open. Her district partner was very much the type to maim first, ask questions never, and while Clove never went anywhere without the protection of her knives, she was still much smaller than him and severely disadvantaged in the dark.

Besides, even if she could fend him off long enough to identify herself and avoid a chokehold, Clove knows it will be a very difficult task justifying her invasion of his home.

The self-doubt quickly creeps in, screaming at her that this is a horrible idea, but some part of her refuses to make the smart decision and walk away while she still can. Her feet pad quietly up the stairs, one hand grappling blindly at the railing for balance. Little wooden creaks resound with each step. Old homes are so damn loud, she thinks.

Maybe they were made so on purpose - every Two Victor comes home with a vicious paranoia but is too prideful to have a security system installed.

Sure enough, her gait was not as sly and inconspicuous as she would have liked. She manages to reach the entrance of what is presumably the master bedroom, and before she's even through the doorway, she hears her co-Victor, a shapeless blob obscured under his bedsheets, murmur an exhausted greeting: "Hey, Clove."

Clove freezes at the entrance, somehow surprised at having been identified. He only chuckles mirthfully at her silence, the sound deep and throaty and so him in a way that fills some little empty hole inside her she hadn't known existed.

Forcefully shoving aside such idiotic, sentimental thoughts, Clove states her business as neutrally as possible despite the electric current of nervousness running through her body and quickening the pace of her heartbeat. "I couldn't sleep," she states. It sounds almost accusatory, and maybe it is.

"Missed me too much?" He teases, his voice thick and groggy with sleep. Or... sleeplessness? Perhaps it was possible that he wasn't quite as adjusted to their new sleeping arrangements as she'd thought.

"Just move over, idiot," Clove orders, too tired to play their typical verbal games of cat and mouse (besides, she adamantly refuses to be the mouse). He complies with her demand rather agreeably, which would have surprised anyone else who knew he didn't take well to being bossed around. For their dynamic, him obeying her... it was almost second nature, and though Clove has no hope of understanding why, she knows from their experience in the Arena that the dangerous, brutal boy will for some reason do anything she says. The power of it was overwhelmingly seductive, and there were plenty of opportunities to take advantage of it in the Games, but she couldn't bring herself to.

She hadn't needed it when the rule change was reversed. Cato had been all too willing to end himself, and every instinct within her had fought against him daring to leave her, until she had been prepared to drag the blade across her own throat as well. That moment of clarity, weakness, defiance had led them here, with her crawling under the covers and him reflexively pulling her close. Her hands find his body to gain her bearings until she makes contact with bare skin-

"Fucking - Cato, tell me you're at least wearing pants," she gasps as her palms lay flat on the smooth, unfairly tempting plane of his torso. His deep, booming laughter resonates through her chest and she doesn't stop the full body shiver in time, the involuntary movement of her body something he can surely feel with this close proximity. Her breaths are embarrassingly shallow and Clove feels a little lightheaded at the prospect of spending the rest of the night with her body curled into his shirtless, well-maintained form, feeling the hard lines of his body against her...

"Yeah, Clove, I'm wearing pants. But I sleep without a shirt because it gets too hot," he explains, amusement making his voice high-pitched, and Clove just knows he has an insufferably smug grin on his face right now. "But if you're uncomfortable, I can change," he continues sincerely, a sweetly genuine offer. And that ridiculous fluttering of her heart absolutely loathes the very idea - before she can stop her traitorous mouth, Clove protests, too quickly to reign her voice back to a casual indifference, "don't."

What the fuck is wrong with you? Clove chides herself as she awaits Cato's response.

Thankfully, he seems to have had enough fun with her for one night because he wordlessly wraps one heavy arm around her waist, his hand resting gently on the small of her back. She tucks her head under his chin, resisting the urge to burrow her nose into his throat that is right there and breathe in his sensitive skin. Clove has no idea what's gotten into her, but already she feels her eyelids becoming heavy and her brain slowly drifting until her thoughts are a muddled soup.

Absentmindedly scratching her nails across the smooth expanse of his back, she's startled at his sudden groan of delight. "Yeah, that's nice. Keep doing that," he mutters placidly into her hair. Some oddly unselfish part of her wants to make him feel as good as he does for her, so Clove continues the pattern, lightly digging her nails into little soft spots of muscle and sometimes the hard ridges of his spine.

"This is a one time thing," she warns him sternly. Cato barks out a disbelieving laugh, and she stops scratching his back in retribution. He doesn't seem to mind terribly, instead picking up her slack by languidly tracing patterns along her shoulder blades.

It turns out, he was correct not to believe her, because Clove returns the next night, and then the night after, and then the night after, and then...

[waratah-moon]

Super Like 3 • Eddie Munson

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

I'm in love with modern!twitch streamer Eddie...

The first date

Parkway Flea Market, Indianapolis

Liked by eddiethebanished, yourfriend and 163 others yourusername They didn't have any Dio 😢

eddiethebanished So mad. At least they had Kool & The Gang. ↳ yourusername Now if anyone ever asks to hear Get Down On It I can tell them I have it on vinyl

yourfriend Love the new ring ↳ yourusername It was a present 🥰

2 months in...

Liked by lucas.sinclair, yourfriend and 14,752 others eddiethebanished She's coming for my job

yourusername Yes can I finally stream the Sims 4 on your channel? ↳ madmax I'll watch ↳ dustin_h Might finally get some good content

eddiefan Dude please don't let your girlfriend stream. Girls can't game. ↳ eddiethebanished wtf are you 12? Go to bed dude.

3 months in...

Liked by robs_buckley, eddiethebanished and 194 others yourinstagram You know you're down bad when you start doing arts and crafts

yourfriend This is too cute 🥺 ↳ yourusername We're sickening 🥺

eddiethebanished Love keeping a piece of you in my pocket 💖 ↳ dustin_h You're such a sap ↳ eddiethebanished Shut up dustybuns

5 months in...

Hawkins, Indiana

Liked by yourfriend, robs_buckley and 20,472 others eddiethebanished Took my girl back to my hometown for the weekend and showed her the one sight.

steve.harrington So you took her to Lover's Lake? ↳ eddiethebanished Skull Rock actually. Then Lover's Lake. Then your mom's house ↳ steve.harrington Jokes on you my mom moved to Florida. ↳ eddiethebanished I knew joking about your parents would end up being too sad, sorry bro. I'll call you later. ↳ steve.harrington I'd actually really appreciate that.

dustin_h It was so good to finally meet you yourusername ↳ yourusername You too dustin_h I love the campaign you wrote!

8 months in...

Liked by yourfriend, yourotherfriend and 210 others yourusername Asked him to learn some Harry Styles... still waiting.

mikewheeler I still have the video of when he played 5 Seconds of Summer at Steve's birthday ↳ steve.harrington I remember that! He rocked She Looks So Perfect ↳ yourusername omg please send it to me ↳ eddiethebanished Don't you dare ↳ mikewheeler Check your messages

10 months in...

Liked by robs_buckley, nancywheeler and 54,920 others eddiethebanished smoking hot date

robs_buckley I thought you were quitting! ↳ yourinstagram I'm trying!!! ↳ eddiethebanished She's doing better than me.

nancywheeler We need a girls night soon xx robs_buckley yourinstagram ↳ yourinstagram Text me next time you're in town! ↳ robs_buckley I second this!

eddiefan your girlfriend is hot

1 year in...

Liked by steve.harrington, willthewise and 3,458 others yourusername My golden retriever gamer boy ❤️ I'll tell you all the sappy shit in person so Dustin can't make fun of us. Love you Eds.

eddiethebanished Love you more than life itself baby girl ❤️ ↳ Liked by yourusername

dustin_h You guys are actually very cute, but thanks for keeping the sap level to a minimum. ↳ Liked by yourusername and eddiethebanished

robs_buckley I want what you have 🥺 ↳ yourinstagram I keep telling you I have the perfect person for you ↳ robs_buckley Fiiiiiiiiiiine. Set it up. ↳ yourinstagram YES

1 year and couple months in...

Liked by steve.harrington, mikewheeler and 129,327 others eddiethebanished I finally cracked over 1 million followers on twitch and enough subs to quit my day job and make a living playing video games. How batshit insane is that? Thank you to everyone who ever supported me, no matter how long you've been here... one day, since day one, thank you. I also couldn't have done it without my wonderful girlfriend, yourusername. Without you I would never have had the courage to turn this nerdy little passion into my dream job. Now on to the future, whatever that may hold. I hope you'll all join me for the ride.

yourusername So proud of you Eds. ↳ eddiethebanished Couldn't have done it without you.

dustin_h Absolutely insane dude! Congratulations. ↳ Liked by eddiethebanished

eddiefan Congratulations Eddie!

eddiefan Been subbed since the shitty battlestation, glad you've finally upgraded! ↳ Liked by eddiethebanished and yourusername

1 year and some months in...

Liked by robs_buckley, yourfriend and 174,294 others eddiethebanished You know she loves you when she does a 70s themed photoshoot for your shitty band's new album cover. Ps new music dropping soon corrodedcoffin 📸 filmbyjbyers

yourusername What can I say, I'm obsessed with the front man. ↳ Liked by eddiethebanished

filmbyjbyers The photos turned out great! ↳ Liked by eddiethebanished and yourinstagram

dustin_h Aw your band's not that shitty ↳ eddiethebanished thanks Dustin

eddiefan You're finally releasing a full length album? ↳ eddiethebanished Maaaaybe...

About 2 years in...

Liked by yourfriend, filmbyjbyers and 6759 others yourusername We saw Metallica live then got super drunk... also we're engaged!

robs_buckley Um excuse me? ↳ yourinstagram Surprise? I'm calling you now.

steve.harrington dustin_h Did you know this? ↳ dustin_h Eddie facetimed me at 3 in the morning so yeah I knew lol ↳ eddiethebanished Sorry man, but at least you found out first? ↳ dustin_h I'm so happy for you both I couldn't care less that you woke me up ❤️

-

🎂 join my birthday week celebration! 🎂 < happening until 29/1/23 masterlist / send me a message 💌 / Steve's version

disclaimer! pinterest is full of white girls. I'm sorry but it's true. I tried to keep y/n as nondescript as possible but I'm just working with what I had. Sorry in advance if that offends anyone but this can be an exercise in imagination. - (not tagging my full tag list, just the people who commented on part 1 and 2… My tag list is reserved for full length fics!) @emma77645 @dylanmunson @bakugouswh0r3 @tlclick73

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day Thirty - Confusion @sapphicmicrofics

April Daily Series - 1043 words *The End*

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

When they reached the base of the tree, Dorcas finally sorted out her thoughts. She needed to prepare herself for the “conversation” that Marlene threatened her with. Threatened may be overstating it a little, but Marlene hadn’t given her time to argue against it.

Knowing her ex as well as she did, Dorcas anticipated a fierce defence of their past relationship and the possibility of a future one. Marlene wasn’t as skilled at debates as Dorcas, but she was passionate in her arguments. A vast vocabulary and quick wit were often her only defence against Marlene’s stubborn sincerity.

How can I defend a position that I don’t hold against her impassioned pleas? I want her back too, but there are so many barriers. I can’t see how to make it work.

“Do you ever watch the tree go up?” Marlene asked, meeting her gaze. Surprise momentarily skated over her face when she found Dorcas staring at her already.

“Sometimes.”

Dorcas didn’t look away, partially because she’d always appreciated the open communication of direct eye contact and partially to prove that she wasn’t ashamed to be caught. Unabashed appraisal was a valuable weapon that she wielded often. Most people found it disconcerting and it weakened their position from the start.

Marlene was not most people. She grinned with all of her teeth, a wide and confident predator’s smile. It was sickening how Dorcas’s stomach fluttered at the sight.

Ridiculous! Absurd. Dangerous?

“You said we needed to have a conversation?” Dorcas gestured between them for her to “go on.”

Marlene swivelled in front of her and reached for her neck. “Need to see this for a minute.”

“It’s yours, so…” Dorcas trailed off as Marlene lifted the ring from her chest and kissed the engraved heart “for luck” as she always did before hockey games.

“You should know that I have very few regrets in my life,” Marlene said, toying with the ring. “I’ve been in fights that earned me stitches and scars, drunken revelry that ended in minor legal mishaps, and more than a few shite relationships. It’s all part of my past and made me who I am today.”

Dorcas frowned in confusion as she processed the information. Legal mishaps? What legal mishaps?

“I wouldn’t be me, so why regret what’s over and done?” Marlene continued, “But losing this? Losing you? I will regret that monumental fuck-up until the day that I die.”

“Oh.” It was all that Dorcas could force out amid the rush of emotions.

Marlene released the ring, then reached around to unclasp the necklace it hung from. “I think it’s well past time for me to make it up to you.”

Dorcas wanted to stop her, to cling to the necklace and refuse to give it back. The few minutes with its comforting weight against her chest after all this time grounded her in a way she hadn’t been in months…about a year, actually. Since Marlene left.

“You were right and I was an idiot. Which is not exactly a shocking development, I’ll give you that.” Marlene chuckled to herself as she slid the ring off of the chain. “I’ve let doubt and insecurity cloud my better judgement for too long.”

“And pride,” Dorcas added, her voice low and thick with emotion. “Did you change your mind then? You want it back?”

Marlene’s smile shifted subtly as her eyes searched Dorcas’s face. “Only borrowing it, if you don’t mind?”

“Why would I mi—” Dorcas cut herself off with a gasp as Marlene dropped onto one knee.

No. This can’t be happening. This little twit!

“Dorcas, if I’d known back then what I do now, I would have proposed to you the day I bought your ring instead of carrying it in my pocket and waiting for the perfect moment. Now, when I need it, the fool thing is safely tucked away some 500 kilometres away. So, this will have to do.”

Dorcas’s legs trembled violently, just barely keeping her upright. She couldn’t have formed words if she tried. Her mind was completely blank, except for the one word that played on repeat.

Marly Marly Marly

“You are still the most important person in my life, Cas, even after everything fell apart. I would do anything to see you happy again. You deserve to spend the rest of your life fucking beaming from pure joy, and I want to be there when you do. Believe me when I say that I love you more than pineapple on pizza, my Docs, and yes, even hockey. You are everything to me,” Marlene said, gazing up at her with tears in her eyes.

Oh no, don’t you dare cry! I cannot cry in front of all of these people!

“All that to say, yes, I’m an idiot.”

Dorcas burst out laughing and covered her face with her hands. “Yes, you are.”

The small crowd gathered around them tittered with amusement. She wished they’d mind their own and was tempted to tell them so, but couldn’t tear her gaze from Marlene’s earnest smile.

“An idiot who learns from her mistakes,” Marlene added pointedly. “If I stepped onto that train tomorrow without proposing…if I walked away from you a second time…I couldn’t live with myself.”

“Are you actually going to propose, or is this a bid for the title of the longest romantic edging in history?” Dorcas asked, rolling her eyes.

Marlene snorted a laugh, then clasped Dorcas’s left hand and slid the claddagh onto her finger with the crown facing out. “Calm your tits! I’m almost there.”

Before she could respond, Marlene lifted Dorcas’s left hand to her lips and kissed the ring again. Her own hands were shaking a bit as she lifted to her feet, then Marlene cupped her face gently.

“Dorcas Iris Meadowes, will you marry me?”

Dorcas kissed her hard, unable to contain her nervous energy any longer. Shouts and applause exploded around them. She was immediately caught up in the kiss, matching Marlene’s fervour with her own.

Marlene pulled back suddenly and choked on a laugh. “Is that a ‘yes?’”

“Yes, you idiot! Now kiss me!” Dorcas demanded, grabbing the back of her neck and recapturing her lips.

Consequences be damned. This is worth it.

[imperfectnothing]

SPECIMEN LOG: ROUND 30 (Before) - Love 'Til You Can't (DIAN POV)

Peace has always been a rare, fleeting thing.

Filled with a restlessness without any real outlet, Dian thinks that must run in the family, with the reckless energy of his younger brother and the way that his older sibling would ebb and flow, a lighthouse lamp in the inky darkness, only beginning to flicker when they neared the end of their journey. Not to mention his little sister, a fountain of sparks in the dark of the night, lighting up the sky with crackles and blooms of fire, only to be shot out of the sky and plummet to the ground with a sickening crack. He wonders how he'll go, in the end, snuffed out like a candle or smothered, flame starved for oxygen?

Letting out a sigh, Dian taps out a rhythm on his stomach as he walks through the halls of the arena, only given pass into restricted areas due to the special Guest ID that Teneb had gotten for him after some wheedling. As soon as he said "making connections with the future winner of the season," Teneb's eyes gleamed and she disappeared in a whirl of down and glitter, off to acquire him this limited access clearance that he'd asked for. He tangled the strap it hung from his neck on around his fingers a few times before untangling it and repeating the process, eyes darting about as he read the signs and made his way deeper into the belly of the beast.

The further and further he gets, the more he's relieved that Teneb never forced him up on that stage, to entertain and sing for his life. No, he's only been forced to watch from the sidelines as the people he grew up with, his sister, his best friend, they all died in a explosion of viscera and gore. His own life might not have been on the line but his heart has been in his throat every time he was sat down to watch one of those gods-forsaken rounds, trying to hold back the nerves from shaking his hands or catching his breath. He's still thankful that he was alone to watch the 12th round, with the way he broke down sobbing at Flor's death. Teneb would have never let him live that down. Dian looses a tremulous sigh before he fiercely shakes his head, rapping his knuckles on the door he's been searching for this whole time.

"One sec!" A muffled voice calls from the other side. There's the distant sound of something falling over. The door disappears with a hiss, Tov left in its place, peering out with a scowl, her star pupils gleaming wicked sharp on her bare face. She blinks once she sees him, looking up and meeting his eyes. "Dian?" He nods, sudden nerves stoking a blush in his cheeks as he smiles at her nervously.

"I thought I would visit the future star of season thirty nine." She watches him for a long beat before grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him inside. Letting him go to return to her open closet and desk, strewn in part with the fruits of her labor, she glances back at him, pulling a face.

"Why didn't you visit before?" It goes unsaid what she means by before. Before Himei, Rose, and Flor were shot down. Before Nyx and Aurien disappeared and became fugitives, on the run from the law. Before Lang exploded live on stage, before Solei was warped beyond recognition. Before it was too late. Dian presses his lips together, shaking his head and letting out a bitter laugh.

"Teneb wouldn't give me permission," he bites out, forcing himself to maintain a smile. He doesn't want to think about his guardian's beetle black eyes and the way that they crinkle at the edges when she smiles, the feathers left around his dressing room every time she visits, the noxious cloud of perfume left behind. "Said it was too much of a distraction. She only said yes to this because I told her I would be making connections." Tov hums, nodding as she frowns, tapping her index finger against her chin, before pulling on sleek black opera gloves.

"What about sneaking out?" She asks, raising an eyebrow at him. He shakes his head.

"No time, Teneb made it so my schedule was packed and that when I had downtime, I was too tired to consider going anywhere, anyways," Dian answers with a sigh. "Nyx used to sneak out, back when we were kids. I think she got wise to it." Tov nods again, her eyes fluttering shut as she smiles sadly. She went still before she cracked open one eye and looked at him.

"Have you . . . seen him?" Her words are cautious and for good reason, though the dressing rooms aren't really watched, there are still cameras and voice detectors in the hallways. Not to mention the guards stationed outside, straining for any sort of sound leaking out of the rooms. Dian waits a beat, eyes scanning his periphery for any manually-placed monitoring devices. He knows from Nyx that the dressing rooms don't have any installed unless explicitly requested by the guardian of the participant but Dian doesn't know Cassio well enough to be able to judge their sensibilities on a first glance. Finally, once his wariness has been assuaged, he nods to her.

"About a week and a half ago. Before-" Before Himei died, back when I still thought he was dead and I was practically dead on my feet. Dian sucks in a breath and swallows down the bile that rose in his throat. "I saw him before Himei died." Tov's face crumples at the utterance of the name, the inky depths of her irises morphing into pools of sorrow before his very eyes, and Dian immediately regretted his words. He rushes forward and pulls her into a stilted hug, wrapping his arms around her awkwardly, because they had been friends at the garden.

They had been friends after graduation, too, so this should be easy, right? But they had always been held together by the through-line of Himei's love for them, Himei dragging them into each other's orbits whether they liked it or not. They were nothing more than a butterfly drawn to a deathly lily's sweetness, and the omen of death that guarded the lily with its life. Tov finally starts to hug him back, her hands fisted in the back of his waistcoat and he could hear the way she was struggling to drag in shuddering deep breaths.

"Tallis is alive," she mumbles into Dian's chest, muffled by tears and fabric. Dian's grip on her tightens and he can practically hear his heart skip in his ears.

"Does Nyx know?"

"Of course, I wouldn't tell you anything before I tell him," Tov says with a derisory snort. Dian rolls his eyes but he can't hold back the smile that twitches at his lips, unbidden but expected as warmth bubbles in his stomach at Tov being able to make fun of him again. He pinches her bare shoulder as a small retaliation but goes back to just holding her afterwards.

"I, I'm grateful that Tallis is alive," he says haltingly. Tov stiffens again, recognizing his unfinished sentence.

"But?" She demands, pushing back and scowling up at him.

"Tov, just because he's alive now doesn't diminish your grief over his death," Dian tells her with a grimace, unable to really meet her eyes. "Nor does it make your grief for Himei disappear." Tov blinks at him, the dark warm brown skin on her face going ashen as she stares at him like a deer in headlights.

"What do you know," she sneers, looking down at the ground. They've swapped their places, now she's the one unwilling to meet his gaze and all he wishes she would do is look at him.

"I still haven't gotten over Nyx."

"Obviously," Tov scoffs, smirking with a roll of her eyes. Dian glares at her.

"Not like that, jerk," he snaps. Tov blinks, surprised by the sharpness of his tone, and he tamps down on his emotions, managing some semblance of calm and forcing a sigh out through his nose. "Look, I mean, I thought he was dead and I'm still not over it. He might be alive and we might've figured shit out but my heart hasn't exactly gotten the memo." I still have nightmares where he kisses me and fades away to nothing when I reach up to touch him, I still have nightmares where he's screaming at me and asking why I won't help him and I wake up crying and begging him to forgive me. We haven't slept in the same bed since that very first night, a week and a half ago and I'm glad, because I don't want him to know that I still see a corpse half the time when I look him in the eyes. Tov's brow wrinkles, her rosebud lips pursing into an agitated line.

"I'll talk with you about it, if I win," she offers, flicking him on the nose. He grunts and blinks at her, scowling for a moment before rolling his eyes and huffing a laugh. "How does that sound?" Dian pretends to mull it over for a long while before Tov is whacking him on the arm and glaring at him something fierce.

"Whoa, whoa, fine, it sounds good!" He sputters through fits of laughter. "But I have an offer for you, too."

"Oh?" Tov raises an eyebrow at him and tilts her head to the side, watching him curiously. She looks especially owlish in this moment and he can't help but smile. He holds up a finger and puts on his best show-winning smile.

"I propose that, if you win, we start dating publicly." Tov looks at him as if he's grown a second head and sputters at him.

"WHAT?" She demands, her eye twitching madly.

"Slow your roll, give me a minute to explain. Sheesh, cut a guy some slack! You know I'm gay, and besides, I'm dating Nyx. I'm not asking to be your boyfriend," he explains quickly. Tov opens her mouth to interject again but he shushes her. "I'm a relatively high profile public figure with Teneb being my owner and also my job. We know each other from modeling and this is common knowledge amongst our fanbases. My proposal is that we fake-date, so that you and Tallis can carry on whatever you've been doing without scrutiny and so that Teneb doesn't try to pair me off with someone else. Connection made, you get benefits, as do I, and we'd be doing this with a friend that we trust." Dian watches the gears churning in Tov's head, her mouth opening and closing a few times as she considers what he's said. Eventually, she sighs and narrows her eyes at him.

"I'm happy to do that, if I win," she agrees. "But what the fuck are you on about, dating Nyx?"

Dian lets out a groan and drags his hand down his face.

- - - ✧✧ - - -

okie dokie got this out before the round starts tonight!! woohoo!! tov and cirrus round 30 mom can you pick me up im scared 😰 but um yeah!! dian/tov friendship!! they like to bully each other but they still love each other sooooo yknow! comfort and ribbing. the duality of man.

tagging @ivanttakethis obviously heh. also @bluemoonscape for the himei & tallis mentions! @sotogalmo for the Flor allusions. @apriciticreveries for the Aurien mention . . . guess i should tag @solei-eclipse for that too (also just because hi hi hi dian content <3)