#yeah. i could always write something else if this makes you uncomfortable though i hope it doesn't

[brutalmasks]

“ it’s over. ”

shadows, which seemed to almost resemble dogs in appearance, but with sharp teeth and the same blaring white eyes that bunny mask herself possessed stopped in their tracks. she was on her way to punishing yet another person with the sickness in gotham before she was met with the sight of this red hood character once more. they were a man whom was guilty of running an underground dog fighting ring, and was going to (rather appropriately, she deemed) be ripped to shreds by her dog-like shadows for his crimes. it was a bit confusing to her at first that the red hood would want to stop her, but she supposed she could see the reason behind it being that the red hood didn't like her encroaching on his territory, or something along those lines. because now, bunny mask was being threatened with the business end of one of his weapons. a light sigh left her lips as she turned to meet the vigilante's gaze. the scent of iron was fragrant throughout the alleyway, most likely because she'd had to sever both of the man's achilles tendon's to prevent him from running with her claws: and thus, they were soaked with blood.

that was a common occurrence for bunny mask, however, so it didn't bother her any. she looked to the sick man and took note of his condition before speaking up. his eyes were starting to glaze over, like he was about to pass out. good. if he couldn't fight bunny mask back whatsoever, then this would be over quickly, ❝ mm — i am afraid there must have been some kind of been a misunderstanding here. i am helping to cleanse your city of the sickness, red hood, and yet you wish to condemn me to death? i could list numerous reasons as to why that would be hypocritical of you... seeing as you've been known to kill to protect people as well. and that is what i am doing here, save for that i am protecting animals from him. ❞ bunny mask stared the other dead-in-the-eye even as she pulled out a photo from one of the pockets of her dress. it was a polaroid of an injured dog that just came out of the dog-fighting ring they had, and what they'd done to that poor animal was hard for even an ancient spirit like her to look at.

❝ this is what that man was doing in his free-time. training and coercing these innocent creatures into fighting each other, for entertainment. is this not one of the most horrible thing's you've ever seen? ❞

[cvntluver444]

7 mins in heaven w ellie😇😇😇😇

thank you so much for your request and your support love!! <3

✞ 7 minutes ✞

✿ summary : the request!

✿ warnings : smut minors/men (boys) dni, puss rubbing, dirtyy talk, shy reader, sweet ellie, ellie teaching reader, reader is in closest!!!!!!, mentions of reader in str@ight relationship, almost getting caught!, if i missed any lmk pls!

✿ a/n : thank you for supporting my works as always! this is not my best work bc i used all my creative brain juice on my last fic so i am so sorry! unfortunately, i am headed back to school this weekend so my writing is going to slow down, but i'm not stopping don't worry babies. im hoping to put out 2-3 fics a week still!!!! keep sending in those requests! I have one more to work on, so to the anon who requested it its coming i promise my love!!!!

ALSO i did kind of make this a personal fic im so sorry LMAO basically i just explain how when i finally realized i was gay YAYAYA !!!!!!! but yeah warning again the reader in this is based on me so it is like finding out you're into girls later on kind of thing so if this is something you're not interested in feel free to skip! I hope you like it lucy!!! (idk if that's your real name im just going to call u that teehee) i love you all so much! muah

✿ as always, please remember to keep spreading information on and support Palestine!!

daily click

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you anxiously played with your fingers as the last of the party guest gathered around the huge circle. your friends and you decided to spend your saturday night at one of your classmates party, resulting in you now dreading your turn in the 'truth or dare' game.

"you okay?" you turn your head to your left as your eyes land on your friend, who clearly could pick up on how nervous you looked.

"yeah i'm fine," you tell her. "just hope i don't have to do anything stupid or embarrassing. she laughs at your comment.

"don't worry, i doubt you'll even get picked. there's a lot of people here and were all drunk so, who cares!'. her shouts fills the room, drawing a couple eyes toward the two of you. you giggle and hide your face, trying to tell her to keep it down. in the midst of shushing her, your eyes graze the room, watching people roll their eyes at her behavior. but your eyes catch someone else's and you freeze.

ellie williams

she sends you a soft smile, a dark look in her eyes. you gulp and look away quickly. god, she was so hot you thought. you hope she couldn't how flustered she made you. you hope no one could. your whole life, you've always had no problems catching boys' attention. you could have a whoever, whenever, but with this luxury came its flaw. you never actually liked the boys you went out with, you just loved being loved, being in a relationship. you never understood why you felt that way, but just continued on normally, not giving yourself a chance to actually explore more about yourself. but when you first met ellie freshmen year, the feelings finally became visible, especially after finding out she was also into girls; however, you were still not sure if she felt the same. This caused you to once again burry your feelings and close yourself up. You were too scared, and way too sober to even try to talk to ellie.

suddenly, a loud voice can be heard yelling throughout the house. "truth or dare starting now in living room," on boy shouted. your palms became sweaty and you prayed that everyone would pick up on your uncomfortableness and just leave you alone. as always though, the world likes to work in funny ways, and you feel a large presence sit next to you and tap you on the shoulder.

"hey," the boy smiles, "cool if i sit here?" you just give me a simple nod of your head and continue your attention elsewhere, your thoughts interrupted once again. "you look good tonight, by the way". you turn back around, and give him a quiet thanks, and before he could respond, everyone around you begins to pick who will go first for the game.

after three or four people went, you began to grow annoyed. the man next to you could not take the hint, and you were the only person here not having a good time.

"alright williams," the room cheers silently, "truth or dare". your attention is now fully on ellie. she stares up at her friend who just picked on her, small smirk on her face as she answers with a confident dare. "hmmm," her friend hums out loud, looking around the room. you swear you see their eyes stop on yours for a second, before they get an idea. "i dare you to do 7 minutes in heaven," they pause and the room is filled with oooo's. your heart drops a bit. "a person of your choosing." now everyone was going crazy. everyone knew ellie was gay, and everyone knew she made every girl gay, so it was a pretty heavy dare.

ellie smiles up at her friend, sage you think their name is, before she slowly starts scanning the room. you quickly look down, hoping that your avoided eye contact would make you more invisible. your only focus now was watching your fidgeting fingers and giving back half asses answers to the man beside you who still will not shut up.

you hear ellie suck in her breathe before she slowly gets up from the ground. all you wanted to do in this moment was sink into the ground, not sure how you were going to handle seeing ellie pick another girl that isn't you and go fuck her in the closet. too deep in your thoughts, you don't hear the air leave your friends lungs as a certain someone stalks towards you. you only know ellie is right in front of you once you see the beat up sneakers sneak right under your vision.

your eyes widen and you cant breathe. there has to be someone behind you right? no, she could not pick you. in fear that you would be disappointed when looking up, you keep your head down, telling yourself that you're just-

your friend next to you quietly says your name, excitement laced in her voice. she was the only one you told, the only one you could trust with something so personal to you, so to say she was absolutely ecstatic to see ellie pick her best friend, well that was an understatement.

after your quick reality check, your line of vision trails from the top of her feet, all the way to her line of vision, where you see hear towering over you, smirk on her face. you felt like you were going to throw up.

"wanna come with me?" she asks you, that little smile never leaving her face. you look around the room, everyone in just as much shock as you. you look back at ellie, and without thinking twice, you nod your head yes.

she grabs her hand out for you to take, and you two make your way into the closet in between the living room and kitchen, but not before ellie yells something along the lines of keep yourselves busy, and don't be pervs. you feel like you're dreaming, you can't believe ellie williams picked you. but suddenly, you're brought back into reality when she closes the closet and turns on her phone flashlight.

"so," she begins, "how's your night been." you now grow extremely insecure at how little you've been talking to her, not knowing exactly what to do next considering you've never been with a girl.

"oh uh," you begin, "it's been okay. what about yours?" stupid stupid stupid.

"pretty good. saw that guy talking to you. you looked uncomfortable so thought i would save you." she gives a light giggle, but your heart drops and you look at her with sad eyes.

"oh uh yeah haha thanks," you attempt to say, sadness clearly laced in your voice. ellie picks up on it.

"are you okay? did he do anything?" she asks you, coming closer, concern reading all over her face. you blush at how much she cares about you.

"no, no, he didn't do anything, just was annoying," you let out a breathy laugh. "i guess i just thought that we were gonna, ya know, since you picked me, um, never mind this is stupid." your cheeks are now red with embarrassment, and ellies face softens at your rambling.

"aw, no sweetie. just because i picked you doesn't mean we have to do anything. i know you're not into girls." she gives you a friendly tap on the shoulder. ouch. your heart has now sank completely, and you slowly go to reach for the closet door handle. ellie looks confused, before she panics and grabs your hand.

"where are you going? it hasnt been 7 minutes yet sweetheart," she asks you.

"i was just gonna go back. kinda boring just doing nothing here." you tell her sadly.

"well, what do you want to do?" she still hasn't caught on? at this point, you feel like you will never get another chance again. with your ego still a little boosted that she chose you, you answer her.

"i wanna kiss you, ellie," you tell her. she freezes in the spot she's in before she slowly relaxes and relief washes over her face.

"i wanna kiss you too." she tells you. you look up at her, hope in your eyes, and she slowly grabs yours chin with her fingers and pulls you towards her. your lips meet and you both slowly start to make out. now you know why it was called 7 minutes in heaven. pleasure rushed through your body, and you instantly melted into the kiss. it was the first time you actually felt something when kissing someone, and in the bliss of this new feeling, you now put your arms around her shoulders.

the kiss deepens and turns more sinful as ellies hands now trail down to your ass and give it a light squeeze. you moan into her mouth and she groans back in response. her hands now start exploring your body, covering every inch of you until they make their way down towards your loose jeans. you quickly pull away, feeling like a complete virgin even though this kind of stuff is nothing new to you.

"woah, hey, you okay? we can stop if you want," ellie tells you, scared that she may have gone too far.

"no ellie its not you, its just," you try to find the right words. "i've never actually been with a girl before." you tell her, shame written all over your features. she lightly grabs your face once more as she gives you another passionate kiss.

"im happy to help you through it, and if you ever want me to stop, you just tell me." she explains, leaving light kisses all over you exposed next and chest. you moan out as you give her your permission to continue. her lips find her way back to yours, taking control of the kiss. in between each breath, she made sure to tell you how beautiful you were, and how much she had been dreaming of this. you return the compliments, gasping when ellie now picks you up and leans you down on the closet floor.

now on top, she puts all her weight on her elbow, as the other one trails down from your chest, then your stomach, to finally the place where you needed her the most. still kissing you, her fingers undo your buttons. once your jeans were shoved down, and your panties moved to the side, ellie breaks the kiss.

you whine from the loss of contact, and she shushes you. "is it ok if i touch you?" she asks you politely.

"yes, ellie. please touch me," you beg her. "want you so bad." her lips suddenly reconnect with yours, and her fingers start rubbing light circles on your clit. you moan as she teases you, never feeling this way with any guy you've ever been with.

"you make the prettiest noises," she tells you, nipping at your lips. "fuck, and you're so wet too." her talking alone brings you even closer to your high, another new feeling.

you feel her fingers now trail down and tease your entrance, making the most sinful sound. she bites her lips, then starts pumping two fingers inside of you.

your eyes now roll to the back of your head and ellie falls to your side, the new position allowing her to finger you even faster. your head leans into her shoulder, and tears brim in your eyes from how good shes making you feel.

"faster, please," you beg, now staring into her eyes. the innocent look on your face causes her pussy the clench.

"yeah baby? you want me to go faster?" she teases you. "ill do anything for you beautiful." that was enough to send you over the edge, and you start to shake and she speeds up her motions.

"els" is all you can get out, but she knows exactly what you're trying to say, telling you to let go and cum all over her fingers.

and you're about to, until you hear yelling outside the closest door, and people are banging on your door, telling you seven minutes has passed.

you and ellie groan, and you're about to scream out of frustration, before ellies low voice cuts you off.

"i want you to get dressed and meet me outside my car, we can finish this at me." she tells you, a loving look on her face. you giggle and give her a quick peck, before jumping up and putting on your clothes.

you two come out of the closet, rushing towards the front door, completely ignoring all your friends and strangers random questions flying your way.

"where are they going?"

"are they holding hands?"

"do you think they did anything?"

"they so fucked."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

✿ a/n: heh, they came out the closet. anyways, like i said, very personalized im sorry i hit my penjamin and im in my feels but i really hope you guys liked it! my requests are still open! love you all so much and don't forget to follow because i post frequently!! <3

[mrsbarnesblog]

Mattheo Riddle headcanons

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: what is it like dating Mattheo

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: fluff, no mention of y/n, you can be in any house, spicy content under the warning

Author’s note: For all my Bucky fanfic readers, I'm sorry that I haven’t posted in almost a month. This December is just too overwhelming, and every time I tried to finish my fic, it felt like I was wasting my time. I literally just miss the ending, and I hope to finish it as soon as possible.

For my possible new followers and/or HP stans, Mattheo is my current obsession, and I’m literally head over heels for him. And you know what they say: if you can’t find a fanfic that you like, write it yourself. So yeah, I'm trying something new, and I have a few ideas that are poisoning my head every single minute lmao.

sorry if there are any mistakes. hope you’ll like it💘🎀

Mattheo was never that much of a playboy because he didn’t like to share his space and, well, communicate with people in general

Due to his family, he was really reserved and refused to be weak

You weren’t that popular in school, so he had never really noticed you but one day, you suddenly started hanging out with Pansy and he could not get you out of his head anymore

He hated it

He hated that you occupied all of his thoughts for at least a few weeks 

Tried to ignore his feelings for you as long as possible, but from the moment you two had to work together on the project, everything went downhill 

He was scared to ask you out, not ready to be rejected by the only person he genuinely liked and thinking that maybe you secretly hated him like everyone else

At the beginning of the relationship, Mattheo told you that sometimes he might get cold and distant, but it wasn’t your fault and that you should just give him some time 

Mattheo is romantic and for his favorite girl, he always arranged the best dates

He was nervous to kiss you after the first date when he walked you to your dorm

Little did he know, but that sexy smirk and the way he looked at you all night drove you insane

So you just pulled him by the tie, connecting your lips

Since then, Mattheo has been addicted to you

Hands are always on you, holding your hand, your waist or your thighs

Looks at you as if you hung the moon and the stars

He kisses you in front of everyone to make sure that they know that you are his, and he is yours

Likes to pull into into his lap while he’s talking with his friends in the common room

Holding you close, slowly strokes your arms or your back, unable to keep his hands away from you

Whispers sweet nothings

Loves your smell and always buries his nose into your hair

He wears rings and allows you to steal them

His hoodies and t-shirts too

Secretly likes to be little spoon or lay on your chest while your hands are playing with his curls

Buys you everything you might possibly like, even though you always tell him to stop spending his money on you

Likes to study with you because you can actually get ready for the lessons while he has another opportunity to stare at you 

So overprotective and always snaps back at people who, even in the slightest way, disrespect you

He never lets you go to the parties alone in case some creepy guys decide to hit on you

Possesive

When you’re wearing revealing clothes, one part of him is proud and wants to brag that his girlfriend is the sexiest woman on the planet, but the other part wants to cover you with big blanket and keep you to himself

Always sarcastic and sassy

Fights a lot 

He had never gone to the medical wing because he wasn’t used to asking for help, but since you started dating, he let you heal his wound 

Loves when you scold him for those fights, just because you look so cute when you’re angry and he has an excuse to kiss and spoil you 

He has anger issues, but he has never raised his voice at you

Actually, you are like a sedative to him because only you can calm him down in a matter of seconds 

Will never make you feel uncomfortable or insecure

You don’t like something or someone? Mattheo will make sure to get you out of the room and won’t let that person come near you ever again

The way you call him “Matty” turns him into a literal puddle

Can’t sleep without you in his arms

spicy

During your first time, he was super attentive and always checked whether you were okay or not

Praises. A lot of fucking praises

“You’re taking me so good, my love”, “you look so pretty when you cum around me.” 

He likes every position, but prefers when he can see your face

There is literally not a single place in his dorm where you two haven’t had sex

Gets turned on literally by everything you do

He’s risky. As soon as he finds out that you actually liked it, he always teases you under the table, pulls you into the storage rooms, and talks dirty while there are a lot of people around

Got you two in detention a few times for getting caught kissing at night by Snape (you were lucky that he caught you before Mattheo’s hands slipped under your skirt)

His personal favorite is sex in the astronomy tower. The way you’re trying to hold back your moans drives him crazy

Also bathtub in the prefects’ bathroom, where you love to sit with him deep inside of you  

He usually dominates, but sometimes likes to let you be in charge and see how you ride him

He has a big appetite, and what is the best way to deal with it? Right, you.

Mattheo would’ve spent hours in between your legs if you allowed him

He never asks for anything in return, but still seeing you on your knees for him is a fucking miracle

Your hair are around his hand, while you’re taking as much of him in your mouth as you can

Eye contact

He’s willing to try in bed anything that you want, except things that might get you hurt

He likes to keep his hand on your neck while he’s thrusting into you but never actually squeezes

Can be rough and fast or really gentle and slow, depending on the mood

After someone pisses him off or if you had a small fight, he always fucks you into the bed with your hands pinned above you until you’re literally crying from pleasure

By the way, when you don’t have time to put a spell on the room, it gives him satisfaction to know that everyone hears the way you moan for him

He always makes sure that you came, and if you didn’t, he’s more than happy to go down on you

Love confessions 

Aftercare is a must

Hugs, kisses, food, baths—anything you might want

He always keeps you close until you fall asleep and then just stares at you, wondering how he could be so happy to have you  

[heartsforjh]

CONGRATS ON 100 KIRBS <333 TO MANY MORE!

For your celly, can I request Luke and physical touch: “I thought you hated it when people touched you?” with reader on the receiving end (as in she's the one who isn't a fan of being touched)??

Thank you and good luck with your celly!!

THANK YOU! 🫶 now, 26 times. 26 times i fully listened to justin timberlake on repeat to produce this for you meg. also, while writing the part where reader couldn’t stay awake i actually fell asleep… 😭 anyways, i hope you enjoy. 🙏

main masterlist | 100 follower celly masterlist

You had met Luke at Umich not too long ago. Despite being quiet and unassuming around most people, he was rowdy and playful with your friend group, always bringing an easy energy to the room. He was funny, considerate, and far more polite than the average guy you’d met at your new university.

Today your friend group decided on hanging out in one of the larger dorms, so that there’s more room for everyone to actually fit. Luke, as usual, is roughhousing with his friends, their laughter echoing through the room. In the middle of their chaos, Luke accidentally bumps into you, nearly knocking you off balance.

“Oh, shit, my bad! I’m sorry Y/n,” he blurts, steadying you with wide, apologetic eyes.

“Lukey always finding excuses to touch his girlfriend.” Dylan teases, his grin wide and knowing.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Luke shoots back instantly, looking a little flustered, his tone shifts into something firmer. “Don’t be weird like that. It’s not funny to make her uncomfortable.”

Turning back to you, his expression softens into a sheepish smile. “I really am sorry, Y/n. I’ll be more careful.”

You nod, offering a polite smile. “It’s okay.” You can tell he feels bad, but before you can say anything else, his friends pulled him back into their conversation. You stay quiet, still too shy to fully insert yourself, being new to this circle of people.

Later that day, the group bundles up for the cold weather and heads to the UMich football game. As everyone files into the bleachers, Luke maneuvers himself to stand next to you. It was hard not to notice, and you could easily hear Dylan snickering.

Luke rolls his eyes but doesn’t budge, determined to put himself out there. After a moment, he glances at you, his face softening when he notices your rosy cheeks from the cold.

“So, uh… is this your first football game? I mean, UMich game?” He stumbles, trying to get his question out without looking stupid, “You’ve probably been to other football games before, but… yeah, first here?”

You can’t help but smile at how nervous he seems. “Yeah. This is my first.”

His face lights up at your response. “Cool! You’ll like it! These games are a lot of fun.”

You tuck your hands deeper into your jacket pockets, shivering slightly. “I hope so. It’s freezing out here.”

Luke chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, Michigan weather can be brutal. You’ll get used to it, though! I grew up here… well, partly in Canada too. Oh, but I was born in New Hampshire. Not that it matters…” He trails off, fully aware that he’s rambling but powering through anyway. “What I’m saying is, I’m used to the cold. And don’t worry, these games are always worth it. My brothers and I go all the time. Actually, we’ve got a lake house we visit in the summer together too—maybe you could come with sometime!” He slows down, hoping he’s not coming off too strong. “You know, if you’re around.”

You listen patiently, letting him overshare whatever his heart desires, “I’ll probably go home over the summer since it’s my first year here, but I bet I could find time to visit for a bit somewhere in there.”

“Really? Yeah… yeah, that’d be cool,” he says, his smile growing. He glances down and realizes exactly how close he’d moved towards you while talking.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says, quickly shuffling back.

You don’t mind the closeness, but you weren’t gonna make it more awkward by telling him so. The two of you continued chatting, the conversation flowing naturally until the game ends and everyone decides to head back to their dorms.

A few days later, the group gathers at Luke’s place for a movie. You’re curled up in a beanbag, with Luke sitting next to you on the floor, his head resting against your seat. The movie drags on, and you find yourself nodding off.

However, your eyes quickly snap open when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Hey, do you want to help me make popcorn for everyone?” Luke asks softly. You nod, grateful for something to keep you awake. He stands and offers you his large hand, which you take without hesitation.

As he leads you into the kitchen, he glances back and notices you rubbing your eyes.

He laughs quietly. “Tired?”

You nod, stifling a yawn. He realizes he’s still holding your hand and quickly lets go, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you say, leaning against the counter as he grabs the popcorn supplies.

“You know, if you’re that tired, you can just crash in my room after this,” he offers casually, glancing at you.

Your eyes widen slightly. “Oh! No, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” he insists, his tone genuine. “Those beanbags suck to sleep on. Trust me, I know—my brothers used to make me sleep on them when we were kids.”

You laugh softly. “Why?”

“Well I was the youngest, and sometimes I didn’t want to sleep in my own room at night…” He trails off, suddenly regretting his honesty.

“You were scared of the dark?” you tease, smile somehow looking even more amused than before.

“Monsters, actually,” he corrects, with mock indignation.

Your laughter bubbles out, the sound light and free. It’s the most you’ve laughed since coming to UMich, and Luke was beaming with pride at the sight of it.

When the popcorn is ready the two of you head back into the living room. The group eagerly grabs at the fresh bowl as you settle back into your beanbag. Unsurprisingly, not even two minutes pass before your eyes start drooping again.

A soft laugh from Luke is the last thing you register before you feel yourself being lifted. You instinctively tuck your head into the crook of his neck, his warmth lulling you further into sleep. He carries you upstairs with ease and gently lays you on his bed, carefully tucking the covers around you.

“Just get some sleep,” he murmurs quietly, mostly to himself.

As he turns to leave, you reach out and catch his hand. Your voice is soft, barely above a whisper. “Please stay? You can lay with me.”

“Uh… are you sure? I can sleep on the beanbag. It’s not a big deal.” he says, hesitantly,

You frown, words laced with tired honesty. “I thought you hated sleeping on the bean bags?”

“I thought you hated when people touch you?” he counters softly, eyes searching yours.

“I do,” you admit. “But it’s okay when it’s you.”

His lips curve into a small, shy smile as he climbs into bed beside you. You waste no time cuddling into him, your head resting on his chest. One of his hands caresses your hair tenderly, while the other settles lightly on your lower back.

The two of you know this isn’t something “just friends” would do, but neither of you seem to mind. You were content with that in the moment. As you drift off to sleep, wrapped in his comforting presence, you decide the feelings you’re starting to acknowledge can wait until tomorrow.

tags: @beenucks @mainly-miracle @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @sweetestdesire @emsdevs @puckmedude @joesnumerouno @alex-wotton

join the taglist here! :)

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

Confessions Between the Pages

pairing: jess mariano x fem!reader

requested: yes/no (anon)

genre: fluff/neutral

el's thoughts: first time writing for jess so he's a new character for me! this could definitely be out of character, but hey, it's alriiight hahaha hope yall like it!

jess masterlist

Y/N never meant to become this person—the one who feels a burning jealousy every time Rory Gilmore walks into a room. Yet, here she is, seated at a table in Luke’s Diner, glaring into her coffee as Rory and Jess chat across the counter. There's an easy rapport between them, the kind of connection that makes her stomach twist uncomfortably. It’s the subtle way Jess glances at Rory, the half-smirk he seems to save just for her, and the way Rory effortlessly holds his attention.

Y/N has known Jess long enough to understand she shouldn’t feel this way. He’s just… Jess—the sarcastic, book-loving troublemaker who stumbled into her life, somehow carving out space in her heart without even trying. But Y/N? She’s no Rory Gilmore—no straight-A student, no golden girl with a pristine future ahead. She’s always felt like the background to Jess’s scenes with Rory.

And now, she’s watching them again, torturing herself for reasons she can’t quite explain.

“What’s wrong with you?” Suki, her close friend/mentor figure, asks, nudging her elbow. Suki’s been keeping tabs on Y/N’s sour mood for days and knows it has something to do with Jess. It always does.

“Nothing,” Y/N mutters, eyes still fixed on Jess and Rory. She can’t help the bitterness that churns inside her. “I’m fine.”

Suki follows her gaze and raises an eyebrow. “Oh, come on. You’re doing this again? You know Jess isn’t into Rory like that.”

Y/N scoffs, stirring her coffee with a bit too much force. “Right. They’re ‘just friends.’”

Suki rolls her eyes. “You’re jealous.”

“Am not.”

“You are,” Suki insists, the knowing tone in her voice only annoying Y/N more. “You act like this every time Rory’s around. You’re into Jess.”

Y/N freezes at her words, her heart tightening with anxiety. She can’t deny it anymore, not to herself and not to Suki. But her jealousy makes everything worse. It twists her insecurities into something ugly—something she doesn’t want Jess to see.

“Whatever,” Y/N grumbles, standing up abruptly. “I’m out of here.”

Before Suki can say anything else, Y/N heads for the exit. But just as she’s almost out the door, Jess turns around, locking his dark eyes on hers. He says something to Rory before quickly making his way toward her, calling out her name.

“Y/N! Wait up.”

She stops, heart hammering. “What?”

Jess looks at her, concern etched in his features. “You’ve been acting weird. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she snaps, though it comes out sharper than she intended. “I’m just… tired of watching you and Rory.”

Jess frowns, clearly confused. “What do you mean?”

Frustration bubbles up inside Y/N, spilling over before she can stop it. “You two are always talking, and it’s like I don’t exist when she’s around! She’s perfect, okay? She’s smart, pretty, and everyone likes her. I get it. You like her.”

Jess’s expression hardens, his usual smug attitude disappearing. “Is that what you think?”

“Yes!” The confession slips out of her mouth before she can stop it, and suddenly, everything she’s been holding back crashes down. “You like Rory, and I’m just… me. I’m not her.”

There’s a long, tense silence, and Y/N can feel her heart sinking with every passing second. She regrets saying anything at all.

“Do you really think I’m into Rory?” Jess finally asks, his voice quieter but firm. “Because if you do, then you really don’t know me at all.”

Y/N blinks, caught off guard. “What?”

Jess takes a step closer, his dark eyes searching hers. “Rory’s great, yeah, but I don’t look at her the way I look at you.”

Her breath hitches. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Jess says, voice steady, “that you’ve been in my head for a long time. It’s you, Y/N. Not Rory.”

Y/N feels her pulse race, the weight of Jess’s words sinking in. She’s spent so long assuming she didn’t stand a chance against Rory. And now, hearing Jess confess his feelings, it’s like her world is shifting.

“You… like me?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jess lets out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “Are you seriously that clueless? Yeah, I like you. I’ve been waiting for you to figure it out.”

Her heart feels like it’s doing flips in her chest, but guilt creeps in, too. She’s spent so much time being bitter, letting her jealousy fester. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice small. “I didn’t mean to act like that. I just… didn’t think you could ever feel the same.”

Jess softens, his tone gentler now. “It’s okay. But next time, just talk to me instead of jumping to conclusions.”

Y/N nods, relief flooding through her. “I promise.”

For a moment, they just stand there, the tension that’s been between them for weeks finally dissolving. Jess watches her, his gaze soft and a little amused.

“So,” he says, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “What are you going to do about this thing between us?”

Y/N laughs, the sound light and free, the first real laugh she’s had in days. “I don’t know. How about we start with dinner?”

Jess’s grin widens. “Sounds good to me.”

They walk back into the diner together, side by side, and Y/N can’t help but feel lighter. The air between them is easier now, and for the first time, she feels like maybe, just maybe, things will turn out okay.

As they sit down, Suki looks between them, raising an eyebrow knowingly. Y/N rolls her eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at her lips.

Jess leans over, whispering in her ear, “You’re going to have to stop glaring at Rory now, you know.”

Y/N smirks, nudging him playfully. “No promises.”

Jess laughs, shaking his head as he picks up the menu. And for the first time, Y/N realizes that she doesn’t have to compare herself to Rory anymore. Because to Jess, she’s always been more than enough.

[squinch-depraved]

hi. i couldn't help myself and had to come back you should write lc!schlatt and reader at his friends halloween party,you can pick the costumes because i have no idea for that..it should totally stem off of intoxication etc whatever you want to put for your idea on this and another reason was because halloween month is here:)

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

i hope this is good i kinda just let this one take me where it wanted to take me idk

CW: intox/cnc/dubcon kinda

you knew as soon as you saw him across the party that the night would end with you two hooking up. he was dressed in a knight costume (it was a simple one, but he pulled it off really well) and you were in a cute little witch's outfit. the two of you were stealing glances at each other all night, and whenever you went to refresh your drink, he would walk up to the alcohol table just to get a chance to talk to you.

"some party, huh?" he asked awkwardly, refilling his cup with way more whiskey than he had any business taking.

you snorted, smiling, and eyed him up and down as you tried to decide what beverage to grab. you settled on taking the whiskey from him and filled your cup up almost as much as he did. "you've been eye-fucking me all night and that's your opener?" you teased him as you clinked your plastic cups together and took a big gulp.

schlatt's face flushed as he held eye contact with you. "what the fuck else am i supposed to say??" he fumbled, making you giggle. the melodic sound stuck in his mind for the rest of the night- he loved when he made you laugh like that.

"you're fine, jay, i was just messing with you. fuck, my head is spinning," you assured him before taking another long sip. about half of the contents of your cup were gone now, and he raised his eyebrows at how drunk you must be- he had been watching you for most of the night, this had to have been your fifth trip to the table.

"maybe don't drink that much that fast?" he suggested in a joking tone. he hoped you were too far gone to detect the genuine concern in his voice.

"don't tell me what to do," you squinted at him. "i'm fine." you were almost swaying at this point.

"alright," he agreed reluctantly, putting his hands up to show he believed you. "you wanna go sit down somewhere, though? it's kinda loud in here, maybe we can find somewhere to sit and talk or something."

you eyed him suspiciously. "just talk?"

he nodded and tried to look sincere. "yeah, if that's all you want."

and so he led you to the only space the two of you could find that wasn't crowded with your drunk friends- a small, dimly lit bathroom. schlatt felt a bit weird sitting down with you on the floor, backs to the bathtub, but enjoyed it nonetheless.

after a bit, you traded your cup for his so you had more to drink.

"hey!" he objected, but you weren't listening. you were just taking long gulps of the alcohol, grimacing as it burned your throat on the way down.

"y'know, i really don't mind that you've been staring at me all night. makes me feel special," you slurred. "i like when you make me feel special."

his face reddened and he took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "what about it makes you feel so special? i'm just admiring you." his voice was shaky.

"just the way you stare. you've always got this hunger in your eyes when you look at me; usually, i try to ignore it, but tonight, i'm too drunk to shove the feelings down."

schlatt smirked at your admission. "so there's feelings?" he sounded more sure of himself now.

with a chuckle, you nodded and took another sip from your cup. "there are definitely feelings. i've just been ignoring them for a while because i didn't know how you felt." after swallowing a large mouthful of the amber liquid, you sighed deeply. "can't believe i'm actually telling you this, i'm gonna regret it so much in the morning. if i even remember..." you muttered.

he shifted on the floor next to you uncomfortably, moving his legs in an attempt to alleviate some of the tension in his groin. "listen, i'm not as drunk as you, but," he took a long gulp from his plastic cup, "there are some feelings on my end, too, if that helps. i dunno..." he sniffed and inspected a framed painting that was hanging on the wall.

you felt your cheeks heat up at his confession and finished off your drink hastily. "can you fuck me?"

"w-what?" he sputtered, turning to stare at you.

"can you fuck me?" you repeated. "tired of waiting for you, j. i know i'm wasted, and maybe i won't have any recollection of this happening when i'm sober again, but i need you right now."

schlatt blinked a few times, running over your request in his mind, and ran his fingers through his hair. "isn't that, like... taking advantage? ted said something about drunk people not being able to fully consent," he mumbled. you sighed frustratedly and grabbed his chin, turning him to look at you.

"i don't give a shit, schlatt. fuck me." the demand caused his pants to tighten, and you glanced down at his lap just in time to see his bulge twitch slightly. grinning, you scooted closer towards him, savoring the look of desire in his eyes. "i can tell you want it just as much as i do. c'mon, baby, please. take advantage of me." his breath hitched in his throat, and in an instant, he was standing up and extending a hand down to you to help you rise as well. as soon as you were both on your feet, he pressed you against the counter and pulled you in for a deep kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth after biting your lip. you yelped and jumped up onto the surface behind you, sitting down on it and spreading your legs open so he had easier access for whatever he wanted to do.

"mm, you're so eager," he breathed into your ear before taking it between his teeth gently. a whimper escaped your lips, any confidence you had now gone from how flustered his dominance was making you. "you've been thinking about this for a while, haven't you?"

another whine slipped out, and you wrapped your legs around him in an attempt to hold him close.

"yeah, bet you've just been dreaming about being used by me. sounds like it, judging by how easy it is to make you moan for me." his velvet smooth words coated your eardrums, rendering you helpless as he reached and slid your stockings and panties down. using his thumb to collect your slick, he brought it up to your mouth and pressed it onto your tongue. the taste of yourself being forced upon you like this left you rolling your eyes back into your head.

"good slut," he whispered with a slight smile. withdrawing his thumb, he swiftly dove in to replace his digit with his tongue, swirling and exploring your mouth with such passion that it made you dizzy. after he had enough of the taste of whiskey on your lips, he lowered himself between your thighs and stared up at you, eyes full of longing.

"you don't know how long i've wanted to do this for you," he said earnestly.

for me. not to me, you thought fleetingly.

"then do it." the words were barely audible, but they made him grin and duck his head under your dress. as soon as his tongue met your folds, clumsy and desperate to taste you, you were a moaning mess. you tried to cover your mouth, but he reached one arm up to reach for your hand and pulled it off.

"lemme hear you," he mumbled against your core. "you wanted to be fucked here so bad, you get to be embarrassed by your choices."

a whorish noise spilled from your lips before he continued, "and say my name, too. want people to know who's makin' you feel this good."

he sped up his tongue, circling your clit over and over, and inserted two fingers into you one by one. the speed at which he pumped them in and out of you would have been cruel if it didn't make you feel so euphoric. it didn't take him long to make you cum, you were so worked up- not to even mention how drunk you were; that always made it so much easier for you to orgasm.

"please, schlatt!! ohh, fuck, oh my god!" you screamed as your legs trembled around his head. he smiled against your cunt and pressed a few messy kisses to it before pulling away to stare up at you. his face was covered in your juices, although you almost didn't notice it due to his expression of pure adoration.

he rose after a few moments of admiring you, undoing his pants just enough to expose his length and positioned himself between your legs once more. "god, this is gonna feel so good," he babbled as he fished a condom out of his pocket.

"you don't have to use that," you offered, snapping out of your daze of staring at his cock.

"'s fine. wanna make sure i'm sober the first time i cum in you. don't wanna even risk not remembering it." his words sent a shudder down your spine; did he want to do this again? would this be more than a one-night stand? you prayed that it would be as he slid the protection onto his shaft.

schlatt made eye contact with you as he pressed his tip against your sensitive bud. you drew in a small breath and clutched onto his shoulders, trying to keep the room from spinning.

"you ready?" he asked, planting a warm kiss on your neck. you nodded as you let out a sharp gasp and braced yourself for him to enter you. it hurt a bit when he did, but the hiss you let out didn't make him stop. he just kept pushing in until he was buried to the hilt between your velvet walls.

he gave you a few seconds before he started moving. it was awkward at first; you were both intoxicated, so it was bound to be a little clumsy, but every second felt incredible. once he established a rhythm, rolling his hips so hard they smacked against your ass, you were clawing at his back and chanting his name. the doorknob rattled loudly and some people laughed on the other side of the door- it sounded like ted and a few of your other friends, but you couldn't be sure.

"fuck," he grunted, gripping your hip with one hand and using the other to cup your face and bring you in for a kiss. "so fuckin' good for me, you stupid little whore." the mixture of praise and degradation made the knot that was forming in your stomach tighten, and you groaned into his mouth. "you gonna cum for me again, doll?"

with a vigorous nod, you leaned your head back against the mirror and surrendered to the endless pleasure schlatt was giving you. "i think i'm gonna cum, too," he grinned. "you keep gettin' tighter and tighter around me, it's gettin' impossible to- nnggh, keep, it together, holy shit! fuck, i'm gonna cum!"

with one final slam into you, he bit down on your shoulder through your dress and groaned loudly, chest heaving. you yelped as he did so and wrapped your arms around him for a hug, which he immediately reciprocated. after pulling out of you and discarding the very full condom, he helped you down and assisted you in fixing your costume so you could return to the party with at least a little bit of dignity.

"wanna come sleep at my place?" he offered. "i feel like it's the least i can do after... that." he smiled softly and adjusted a strand of your hair that was out of place.

"only if we can do it again," you bargained.

"deal. i'll call an uber." he stepped out of the bathroom and shut the door behind him, leaving you to have a second to yourself. you made the final fixes to your costume and applied a coat of your lip gloss before taking a deep breath and exiting the room, ready to face whatever else was in store for you that night.

[dokries]

Hi! I was wondering if I could request a secretly dating in a friend group fic possibly with the prompt “Not sure I can go the whole day without kissing you." Or like they get caught by someone else in the friend group. I was thinking either Seungkwan or Hao. A little angsty/ comforting and pretty fluffy! I love all of your drabbles they’re so fun to read. Thank you!

no need to hide

pairing: boo seungkwan x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, comfort, established (secret) relationship

word count: 805

warnings: reader feeling a little insecure, a few kisses, chan is bullied as always

author note: thank you for requesting anon ! it means so much to me that you love my work 🫶 honestly this was a really cool idea to write, and i hope you like it :> (let me know if you do by dropping an ask!)

masterlist

you and seungkwan haven’t told the others about the fact that you’re dating just yet, and you know he wishes he could be open about it.

after all, he loves public affection, even with just his friends. you’ll always see him hanging off of vernon’s shoulder or holding joshua’s hand—or yours but that’s something he can only do in private. he would rather be loud and proud of his love for you, and not have to keep it hidden in glances and smiles across the room.

when you told seungkwan that you didn’t want to tell the others, he had asked you why, adjusting his shoulder so your head was more comfortable as you watched whatever romcom he had put on for your first inaugural date night.

“i just…listen,” you paused the movie, sitting upright so you could face your boyfriend. “i do love you but i don’t want anything to happen in case we find out that we don’t want to date anymore. like—of course, i don’t want us to break up but we’re still so new.”

seungkwan hesitated before reaching out to hold your hands in his, saying your name softly. “yeah, i get what you mean but…i hope you know that i don’t think we’ll end up like that, and the guys wouldn’t hate us for it or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

you sighed, moving back to rest your head on his shoulder once again, and he placed a kiss on your temple. “your feelings are valid, trust me. so maybe we can see in a few weeks—or months, if that’s what you prefer, sweetie?”

you nodded and he smiled, putting the movie back on.

right now though, he can see you don’t want to be at seungcheol’s apartment with everyone else. you look uncomfortable beside him so he silently takes your hand, and your shoulders immediately are more relaxed as you squeeze back a thanks.

as the night progresses, you seem to feel better, and he makes a mental note to question you about what’s wrong later, when they’re not around everyone else. that time comes earlier than he thought it would though, as you message him after saying you were going to get a drink of water.

you ❙

kwannie can you come to the kitchen?

we need to talk

my boo 🫶 ❙

on my way ♡

he excuses himself from his conversation with vernon to follow you, and he smiles nervously at you near the sink.

“sweetie, is something wrong?” he asks, taking your hand again.

you shake your head before changing your mind and nodding. “i uh…i have something i need to say.”

seungkwan looks at you worriedly, and squeezes your hand, urging you to go on. “what’s up?”

you quickly kiss him on the cheek, and grin at his shocked face. “i just needed to see you so we could, you know…be lovey dovey.”

seungkwan smiles back at you before kissing you on the lips, and tucking your hair behind your ear.

“i get it.” he smirks, before whispering, “i’m not sure if i could go the whole day without kissing you at least once.”

you giggle and he moves to hug you, and continues to litter your face with kisses until you hear a clang, and you both look up, alarmed at the faces of minghao, and seokmin, who just dropped his plate on the ground—thankfully, it’s made of plastic, so it only bounces off the hardwood floor.

“um…” seungkwan starts, looking at you again before up at his two friends, gulping.

you break away from seungkwan, and without thinking, intertwine your hands again, taking a protective stance.

seungkwan looks at you in confusion as you start to speak. “uh, we have something to tell you.”

minghao raises an eyebrow at your hands. “clearly.”

seungkwan grins, squeezing your hand. “we’re dating!” he looks at you giddily before running out of the kitchen to the living room, where most of the guys stare at you—except jeonghan because he’s napping. he’s seungkwan’s roommate, so he probably already knows anyway, and was keeping it a secret for the two of you.

he looks at you and melts, and everyone in the room groans, already knowing how lovestruck seungkwan’s been since the beginning, even before you started dating.

“finally!” chan says, holding his hands up to the ceiling. “thank you!”

seungkwan glares at chan before turning back to you, your friend group already moving on—to be honest, they already kind of knew; the two of you aren’t as slick as you think you are.

your boyfriend boops your nose before making space for the two of you on the couch to cuddle, kicking chan off despite his protests.

you kiss seungkwan on the cheek, and smile. “hey, at least we don’t have to hide anymore, right?”

[charliedawn]

Hey, so I have been thinking about this for some time now. How would the slashers react if they were finally deemed safe enough to be reintegrated into society?

Would they be hesitant to leave and try to make themselves seem unsafe just so they can stay or would they accept and come visit occasionally?

(Warning. I cried my eyes out writing this !) Jason Voorhees

Jason had been hesitant from the start. The idea of reintegrating into society felt strange for someone like him, a distant concept he couldn’t fully grasp. Crowds, normal life—they were things he never understood, never wanted to. The only peace he’d ever known was here, with you, and the thought of leaving that behind stirred a deep unease inside him.

The day came when the gate to the facility stood open, the path to the outside world clear. Jason stood at the edge of the property, staring out, his hulking frame tense. Behind him, the other slashers watched in silence. You stood among them, Brahms beside you, your eyes quietly tracking Jason’s every movement.

For a long moment, Jason stood still, his mask angled toward the distant horizon. But something inside him clenched—a tight, uncomfortable feeling that pulled at his chest. It was as if an invisible thread was tugging him back, away from the freedom society promised and back towards the family he had found in St. Louis.

He turned, his eyes scanning the faces of the slashers, the staff, and finally landing on you and Brahms. Brahms who was on the verge of tears. That’s all it took. His body moved before he even made a conscious decision, and without hesitation, Jason walked back towards you. Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around both you and Brahms and squeezed, reaffirming that this—this place, this family—was where he truly belonged, where he wanted to be.

There was no questioning his decision. No one asked why he had turned back, because everyone understood. Jason didn’t need words to explain that society held nothing for him. You, the other slashers, the strange bond you’d all formed—that was his home. And if it meant leaving any of that behind ? Then it wasn’t worth it.

You rested your head against his chest, a small smile forming as you felt the weight of his decision settle over you. Jason wasn’t going anywhere. His presence would serve as a reminder, a symbol to the others that redemption was possible—that even though they lived in the shadows, there was still a path forward. And maybe, one day, they could all walk out of St Louis together. Or that was your hope.

For now, though, Jason was staying. And that was fine with you.

Michael Myers

The news of Michael finally leaving St. Louis was a shock that no one could quite prepare for. As the one who always kept the slashers grounded, the thought of him leaving was bittersweet. He had been their rock, the one who somehow kept them out of trouble, and for many, like Freddy and Five, he was more than just a fellow patient—he was family. A party was thrown the night before his official release, and while everyone seemed to be in a celebratory mood, Freddy and Five sat together at a corner table, drinks in hand, watching Michael from afar.

Five glanced at Freddy, his voice soft. "I can’t believe he’s really leaving."

Freddy let out a scoff, but there was no real bite in it. "Yeah. What a lucky bastard, am I right ?"

Five nodded, though his expression was conflicted. "Yeah...lucky."

Five nodded, though the word “lucky” didn’t sit right with him or Freddy. The silence between them was heavy. Tomorrow, Michael would be gone, and the realization of that made their drinks taste bitter—the day Michael Myers would walk out of their lives. It wasn’t just about him leaving St. Louis; it was about losing someone who had been there for them in ways no one else had. Freddy, in his darkest moments, had found some semblance of solace knowing Michael was around. And Five, well, Michael had become the father figure he never had. The party wound down, and the night seemed to pass in a blur.

The next morning, the air was tense. All the slashers gathered in the entrance hall, watching as Michael quietly prepared to leave. You stood at the back, heart heavy but knowing that it was time. He had more than earned his freedom. As Michael neared the threshold, the others stood frozen, unsure of what to do or say.

Then, out of nowhere, Five ran toward him. Without hesitation, he threw his arms around Michael, hugging him tightly. "Please...don’t leave," Five whispered, his voice shaky as he tried to hold back tears. The usually stoic Michael hesitated, unsure of how to respond. But then, slowly, he wrapped his arms around Five, pulling him closer and closing his eyes as he enjoyed the hug.

That moment seemed to break the dam. One by one, the others joined in. Freddy was the first to rise from his seat, muttering curses under his breath as he made his way over. One by one, the rest followed, each of them joining in the group hug, letting go of their pride and showing just how much Michael meant to them. They weren’t just losing a friend—they were losing the glue that held them all together. Freddy, Vincent, Jason, Bo—all of them came forward, letting their masks fall for a moment. They weren’t just saying goodbye to a friend; they were saying goodbye to the person who had held them all together, who had been their steady presence in St Louis. The first one to come was the first one to leave.

You watched from the sidelines, your heart heavy but understanding. But then, as you caught his eye, you saw something flicker in his gaze. That’s when you realised. You sighed in defeat, knowing what that look meant. With a weak smile, you walked over and joined the group hug, wrapping your arms around Michael too. You couldn’t ask him to stay, but deep down, you knew he had already made his choice.

He wasn’t going anywhere.

Michael wasn’t leaving his family behind.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms was devastated at the thought of leaving. At first, he had genuinely tried, to entertain the idea of reintegration. He had even convinced himself, in fleeting moments, that maybe he could fit into society, that maybe he could live like everyone else. But as the day of his release approached, something inside him shifted. The closer he got to the exit of the facility, the heavier the weight on his chest grew. His thoughts spiraled—what would life be like without you ? Without Jason, Michael, the Horde or Penny ? Without the strange, chaotic family he had found here ?

The idea of being out there, in the world, where no one cared about him, where he couldn’t watch over you, where he couldn’t find solace in Jason’s quiet presence or Penny’s unpredictable antics—it all seemed unbearable. The loneliness he had once known in his old home, the isolation that had eaten away at him for years, loomed over him.

As he reached the threshold, panic took over. Brahms’ breath quickened, his vision blurred, and before he could even think, he was running back. His heart pounded in his chest, his footsteps frantic, until finally, he saw you. His eyes were wide, almost crazed, as he reached out, grabbing you and held you in a desperate grip—his arms almost crushing you.

"I can’t leave," he whispered, his voice breaking with fear. "Please...don’t make me go."

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he clung to you. The mere thought of being separated from you and the others, of being cast back into a world where he was alone again, was too much for him to bear. His voice trembled as he begged.

"I need to stay with you," he whimpered, his grip tightening. "I can’t—please, don’t make me go..."

He started to cry, his sobs uncontrollable as he clung to your side, begging and pleading with every word that left his lips. His body trembled, and you could feel the intensity of his fear, the overwhelming need for you to be there, to not let him face the unknown alone.

You sighed softly, feeling your heart break for him. Brahms had always been fragile and dependant, and this was no different. You knew he wouldn’t survive out there—not without you, not without his family. And as much as you wanted to see him thrive, you couldn’t bring yourself to send him away. His tears, his pleas, were too much.

"Alright," you whispered, softly brushing his hair back. "You can stay."

Brahms collapsed into your arms, his body shaking with relief. He wasn’t going anywhere. He was safe…

Freddy Krueger

Freddy had mocked the whole idea of reintegration from the start, spitting on the process with his usual bravado. "Like I’d need any of that crap," he’d laugh, brushing it off like it didn’t matter. He was cocky, confident in the fact that he was better off in his dream world where he ruled supreme. But then, something unexpected happened. You—you, of all people—approved his discharge from the hospital. He hadn’t seen it coming, and the reality of it hit him harder than he expected.

You had seen him change. You’d watched as he started to show empathy, a bit of compassion, and even a strange respect toward the other slashers. He’d stopped seeing them as targets or obstacles and more like, well...people. Freddy had found pleasure in things besides his usual games of murder and torture. Gardening had become a surprising hobby of his, and he’d formed bonds with some of the others, like Pennywise, Bo, and even Michael. He had laughed, made sarcastic remarks, but there was something more—he had learnt to tolerate, even appreciate, the company around him.

When he first got the news, he was ecstatic, practically gloating as he waved the discharge papers in front of the others, his smug grin plastered across his face. "So long, suckers ! I’m gettin’ outta here, and I wish y’all one happy rotting day !" he’d bragged, basking in the moment. But as the time to leave approached, something unexpected stirred inside him—a flicker of doubt.

He packed his things, but the act felt hollow. He thought about the fun he’d had tormenting you, but also the strange bond that had grown between you two during those games. It wasn’t just about his sadistic fun anymore—there was something else there. And then there were the others, the idiots he’d reluctantly come to call...family.

Freddy paused at the doorway, paper in hand, staring at the exit. For once, the grin slipped off his face as the thought of life without you, without them, hit him. He didn’t want to leave. With a long sigh, he crumpled the paper in his hand and turned back, shaking his head as he strutted toward you with his signature smirk.

"You didn’t think I’d actually leave my favorite plaything behind, did ya ?" Freddy teased, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on your cheek before flipping off the other slashers.

The group let out a chorus of groans, half-hearted and annoyed, but Freddy just cackled, loving every second of it.

"And I ain’t letting ya have all the fun in my absence, you bunch of losers ! You’d miss me too much anyway..."

His words were met with more grumbling, but Freddy, as always, ate it up. "Yeah yeah. Love y’all too, ya cunts !" he laughed, throwing his arms out wide before making himself comfortable again, knowing full well he was right where he belonged.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent, the quieter of the Sinclairs, had made it clear long ago that he wasn’t that particularly eager to leave and besides, he knew he was never going to leave his twin behind. The thought of returning to society was almost alien and completely unappealing to him. When you brought the discharge papers—he was genuinely stunned—and he found himself looking back at you, heart aching. He shook his head. No. He couldn’t leave you or Bo behind.

Bo caught wind about his brother’s decision to stay and barged into Vincent’s bedroom—knocking the door down before yelling.

"Are ya outta yer goddamn mind ?!"

Vince shivered at Bo’s sudden loud voice and was about to reply when Bo grabbed his arm and dragged him down the corridor toward the exit.

"They actually think yer good enough for the outside world, ya dumb bird. And yer gonna stay in here ?! Spoil it all fer what ?! Fer me ?! Fer Nurse Y/N ?! The reason they’re here is to give us—poor bastards—a second chance ?! And yer gonna mess up yers cause ya want to stay ?! Grow a damn pair, Vince !"

Vince felt tears run down his cheeks at his brother’s harsh words and he shook his head frenetically to tell him that he didn’t want to leave, but then…Bo decided to grab his brother once more and drag him towards the exit himself—restraining his own tears. Bo didn’t want to be alone either…but that didn’t mean he was gonna let Vince spoil that chance for him. He wasn’t gonna let his twin make that mistake…

"Come on, Vince. Ya gotta take that chance and get back to Lester. He must be worried sick and think we both really kicked the bucket…" They arrived at the door and Vince started wheezing painfully and tried to voice out his protest, but Bo forced himself not to listen as he suddenly shoved Vince outside the facility. And when he was about to close the door, Bo finally allowed himself to show his true emotions as he grinned and his eyes softened—red-rimmed.

"…You are and have always been the best twin, Vince. Now, make me proud and have a good life for me, ‘kay ?"

Vincent screamed as the door closed and he started hammering at the door—calling out for Bo who slid to the floor and forced himself to remain deaf to his brother’s voice. He started sobbing as it was the first time they would be separated, but he still didn’t want his brother to stay…

You heard his sobs and walked towards the door to find Bo—his back facing the door and his knees up to his chin. He looked like a child and was covering his eyes. You didn’t need to ask, you knew what he had done. You wordlessly sat next to him and tried to reassure him.

"That was…very brave of you, Bo. And don’t worry. You will soon join your brother. I promise."

You put a hand on his shoulder and was surprised when out of the blue, Bo grabbed your waist and settled you on his lap so he may cry against your chest. You were momentarily stunned before you allowed him to hold you and started stroking his hair…

"Sssh…You did good, Bo. You did good."

Bo Sinclair

Bo stood at the edge of the facility, torn between conflicting emotions. The thought of being controlled or confined filled him with resentment, yet the idea of reintegration felt wrong in a different way. He had fought hard to build something with you, to let you and the other slashers into his guarded heart. The prospect of losing that connection gnawed at him, like a slow, insistent ache.

He cursed under his breath, pacing back and forth, his pride wrestling with the feelings churning inside him. The memories of laughter shared and quiet moments spent together played in his mind, reminding him just how much he had come to rely on your presence. He took a deep breath, glancing back towards the exit where freedom awaited, yet it felt so far removed from the life he had begun to cherish.

As he stood there, uncertainty washed over him, and he felt his heart clench. The idea of leaving you behind, leaving everything he had built, felt unbearable. He liked fixing cars and being with people who could…actually understand him. With an exasperated sigh, he turned on his heel, striding back toward you, his decision made.

"I ain’t goin’ nowhere, darlin’. Can’t leave you here by yourself, now can I ?" His voice was firm, yet he smiled.

You met him with a sad smile. It was a moment of relief for Bo, but you also understood the weight of the situation. As much as you wanted him to stay, you knew he had to embrace the opportunities that lay ahead. Gently, you reached for his hand, squeezing it lightly. "Bo, you deserve this chance. Your brothers will be waiting for you. You can’t throw it away."

His expression shifted, torn between the desire to stay and the reality of what you were saying. He opened his mouth to protest, but the look in your eyes silenced him. You were right; he had fought for this moment, and it was unfair to squander it just because of his fears.

With a heavy heart, you turned him back towards the exit, giving him a gentle nudge. "Go on, Bo. Just think of all the possibilities out there. You won’t be alone. You have your brothers. And you have your whole life ahead of you. Just…take that chance and you’ll see."

He hesitated, looking back at you with an expression of longing. "But I don’t wanna leave you…"

Your smile faltered slightly.

"I’ll be right here, waiting for you. You can come back anytime." Your smile remained still, a mixture of sadness and encouragement in your gaze.

Finally, Bo took a step forward, then another, each movement feeling like a weight lifting off his shoulders. But as he reached the threshold, he paused one last time, turning back to face you. "You promise I’ll get to see you again ?"

"I promise," you replied, sincerity in your voice. But when he was far enough, your eyes filled with tears. You were really gonna miss the Sinclairs…

Pennywise

Pennywise stood at the threshold, staring out into the world beyond the facility’s gates. The idea of reintegration was laughable to him at first—a joke he didn’t even bother taking seriously. After all, he was the Eater of Worlds, the one who brought fear and destruction wherever he went. What place did he have among people ? Yet here he was, papers in hand, offering him the chance to leave St. Louis and begin again. A twisted smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he thought about it.

But as he prepared to step forward, something gnawed at him. Penny.

He glanced back, and there he was—his annoying and stupidly tall brother. Penny stood there, fidgeting, watching him with those wide, innocent eyes that belied the horrors they had both committed. The thought of leaving Penny behind tugged at something deep within him. Pennywise had always been the older brother, the protector, and no matter what fate had handed them, they had always been together. He couldn’t just walk away from that. The world beyond these gates might offer him freedom, but without Penny, it would be hollow, meaningless.

His smirk faded, and a bitter laugh escaped his throat. "Who do they think I am, huh ?" He muttered to himself, turning on his heel to face Penny. His brother was still standing there, looking confused, like a child waiting for guidance. Pennywise shook his head, feeling something in his chest twist painfully.

"There ain’t no world out there for me without you, little brother," he growled, striding back towards Penny, his steps heavy with determination.

Penny’s face lit up with confusion, his usual wide grin faltering. "But...you’re supposed to go," Penny said, his voice trembling slightly. "You can leave, they said—"

"I don’t give a damn what they said," Pennywise cut him off sharply, standing in front of Penny now, his hands resting on his brother’s shoulders. "I’m not going anywhere without you, you hear me ?"

Penny blinked, then let out a quiet, breathy laugh, though there was uncertainty in his eyes. "Really ?"

"Really," Pennywise confirmed, pulling him into a rough, awkward hug. "What kinda brother would I be if I left you here by yourself ?"

Penny clung to him, nodding, his giggles returning, though they were softer this time, almost relieved. "We stick together, right ?"

"That’s right. Always," Pennywise muttered.

As the two clowns stood there, you watched from the side, a bittersweet feeling settling over you. You knew Pennywise had the chance to go, to reintegrate into society, but the bond between the two brothers was too strong. They had survived so much together—there was no world in which they would willingly part.

You approached quietly, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Pennywise, you could have had your freedom."

He glanced at you, eyes sharp but lacking the usual malice. "This is my freedom," he said, motioning to Penny, who was still clinging to him like a lifeline and then gestured to St Louis. "All this."

You nodded, understanding the weight of his choice. "Well, then...we’re glad to have you both stay."

Pennywise snorted, but there was a flicker of gratitude in his eyes as he tightened his grip on Penny. "You ain’t getting rid of me that easily," he said, his usual bravado returning. "Besides, who’d look after this idiot without me ?"

Penny giggled again, this time fully, as if reassured by his brother’s presence. You smiled softly, knowing that despite the chaos they brought, the bond between them was unbreakable. They weren’t just brothers—they were each other’s worlds, and that was something neither of them would ever leave behind.

Penny

Penny had never really understood what the word "freedom" meant—not truly. The idea of being "free" seemed strange to him, especially when it meant being away from Pennywise. His brother had always been the one constant in his life, the one who found him when he was lost and showed him a new way to live, even if that way was covered in blood. So, when the papers came, telling him he was free to go, Penny wasn’t sure how to react.

Pennywise, though, grinned from ear to ear, that same wicked, sharp-toothed smile he wore when he thought he was playing some grand trick. He patted Penny on the shoulder and laughed.

"Well, well, little brother," Pennywise said, circling him like a predator eyeing prey. "Looks like you’ve hit the jackpot, huh ? They’re letting you out. You can finally leave this dump behind and see what’s out there." His tone was light, mocking almost, but there was something in his eyes that made Penny pause.

"Leave ?" Penny repeated, tilting his head, his wide smile faltering for a moment. "But...what about you ?"

Pennywise waved him off, his grin widening. "Ah, don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine. Go on, Penny. This is your big chance. You don’t want to waste it, do you ?"

Penny hesitated, his smile now completely gone. He looked at Pennywise, trying to make sense of his brother’s words. The idea of leaving Pennywise behind—it didn’t sit right with him. Not at all. "But...you said we would stick together," Penny mumbled, his hands fidgeting at his sides. "You said you’d always look after me."

Pennywise’s grin wavered, just for a second, but then it was back, sharper than ever. "And I have, haven’t I ? But you don’t need me anymore, Penny. You’re free now. Go on, go have your fun without me. It’s your big chance. You’ve been waiting for this…Go on, get out there."

Penny looked back at the open world beyond the facility, but it didn’t feel like freedom. It felt cold, vast, and terrifying. His hands shook as he took a hesitant step toward the door, but something was pulling him back—something stronger than the lure of freedom. He looked over his shoulder again, hoping to find some reassurance in his brother’s eyes.

Pennywise kept his cool, giving a lazy wave of his hand. "You’ll be fine without me. I mean, you’ve been wantin’ to get outta here for a while now, haven’t ya ? Just…go."

But even as he said it, his heart clenched painfully in his chest. He hated this—hated lying to Penny. Penny will be fine. However, he wasn’t sure if he—himself—was gonna be. But he needed his brother to have a real chance at a normal life, to be free of the monster Pennywise had made him into.

Penny took another step forward, but his legs felt heavy. His entire body resisted the idea of leaving Pennywise behind.

Penny stared at him, eyes wide and confused. The words didn’t feel right, didn’t feel like Pennywise. He took a step closer, reaching out as if to touch his brother’s arm, but then stopped, uncertainty freezing him in place. He knew how much his brother hated hugs. "I don’t want to go," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I don’t want to be out there without you, brother."

Pennywise’s grin faltered. It was…the first time Penny had ever called him brother since his transformation. He looked at Penny for a long moment, his sharp gaze softening, though he tried to hide it behind a sneer. "Don’t be stupid," he muttered, but there was no bite in his words. "I ain’t gonna be much help out there, kid. You’ll do better without me draggin’ you down. You’ll be fine, Penny."

But Penny shook his head, panic rising in his chest. "No ! I won’t !" His voice was growing louder, more desperate. "I can’t do it without you ! I won’t leave !" He stumbled forward, clutching Pennywise’s arm with both hands now, his grip tight, desperate. "Please don’t make me go."

Pennywise froze, staring up at his little brother, the one he had spent centuries protecting, guiding, shaping. And now, here he was, terrified at the idea of leaving. Penny’s wide, innocent eyes searched his face, and Pennywise felt something twist painfully in his chest.

Pennywise clenched his jaw, every instinct screaming at him to stop this charade. But he had to let Penny go, for his own good. He forced a laugh, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "Look, it ain’t a big deal. You’ll get used to it. Hell, you might even like it out there without me. No more rules, no more walls...No more old farts to tell you what to do. You’re free, Penny. Free."

But Penny didn’t move. He shook his head, his wide eyes brimming with confusion and hurt. "You don’t want me with you anymore, is that it ?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Did I…do something wrong, Pennywise ? Haven’t I been a good brother to you ?"

The words hit Pennywise like a punch to the gut. His fists clenched, and for a moment, his façade cracked. "That’s not what I—" He cut himself off, looking away as his throat tightened.

But Penny had already seen enough. "You’re lying," he whispered, tears welling in his eyes. "You don’t want me to go. You’re scared. Like me."

Pennywise finally let out a long, frustrated breath, his tough-guy act crumbling. "Dammit, Penny...Of course I don’t want you to go. And of course I am scared."

Penny’s lip trembled, and he quickly threw himself into Pennywise’s arms, clutching his brother tightly. He didn’t care anymore if Pennywise was to push him away. "I don’t wanna leave you, ever. Please don’t make me, brother."

Pennywise wrapped his arms around Penny, holding him close, his face softening. "I wasn’t tryin’ to make you, idiot," he muttered, his voice thick. "I just...I thought you’d be better off. I didn’t want you to miss your second chance because of me."

Penny shook his head. "No chance is worth leaving you behind, Pennywise. We stick together, remember ?"

Pennywise sighed, a sad smile pulling at his lips. "Yeah...alright, kiddo. We stick together."

For a long time, they stood there, Penny clinging to his brother as though he were his lifeline, and Pennywise holding him just as tightly. He had tried to give his brother a chance at freedom, at a life beyond their shared horrors, but in the end, neither of them could let go.

When you approached, watching the scene unfold, Pennywise met your gaze over Penny’s shoulder. His usual sharp grin was gone, replaced with something sadder, more resigned. "Guess we’re both staying, huh ?" he said quietly, though it wasn’t really a question.

You smiled softly, nodding. "I figured as much."

As you stood off to the side, watching the two of them, you felt a pang of emotion. It wasn’t just about them refusing to leave the facility—it was about them refusing to leave each other. Pennywise had tried to give Penny a future, but in the end, they both realized their future was together.

But what they were both unaware of was that you had made sure to get both their discharge papers signed…And that they would be both leaving soon enough.

Jack Torrance

Jack stood at the exit, gripping the discharge papers in his hand like a lifeline. He stared at the open door, the pathway to freedom, but something about it felt wrong—like it was too easy. After everything he’d been through, after all the dark, twisting corridors of his mind, reintegration into society felt like a trick, like a bad joke that someone was playing on him.

"Look at this, Jackie-boy," he muttered to himself, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "They think you’re cured. They think you’re all better now." He chuckled, the sound low and bitter, his eyes flicking between the door and the facility behind him.

You watched him from a distance, sensing his inner turmoil. Jack had changed, no doubt about it. The rage, the uncontrollable thirst for violence—it had dulled, simmered down into something more manageable. But you knew, just as he did, that it hadn’t disappeared entirely. Reintegration wasn’t going to be simple for him.

His knuckles whitened around the papers, crumpling them slightly as he clenched his fists. "It’s a load of crap," he spat, though his voice trembled ever so slightly. "What am I supposed to do out there, huh ? Go back to pretending I’m normal ? Like I didn’t lose it, like I didn’t almost—"

He cut himself off, jaw tightening. His mind flashed to images of the Overlook, the whispers in the walls, the looming presence of things he couldn’t control. But then he thought about you, about the other slashers. The twisted family he had somehow found himself a part of in this place. It wasn’t perfect, and it sure as hell wasn’t normal, but it was something. And it was real.

Jack glanced over his shoulder at you, standing quietly by the door, waiting. His heart twisted at the thought of leaving this behind. The idea of stepping out into the world alone, without that connection—it gnawed at him, filled him with a creeping dread.

"Hell…" he sighed, running a hand down his face. His thoughts wrestled with each other, pride and fear duking it out in his mind. Jack had always been a man with too much pride, too much ego. But there was something more than that now—something that made him hesitate, something that kept him from walking out that door.

Eventually, with a deep, frustrated groan, Jack turned on his heel, crumpling the papers in his fist. He marched back toward you, his steps heavy and determined, but his face twisted in a mix of emotions. "Forget it. I ain’t going anywhere. Nope. Ain’t happening," he declared. "I ain’t about to leave you here to deal with this circus by yourself."

You smiled sadly. "Jack, you should take this chance. You’ve worked so hard to get here."

Jack shook his head, his lips curling into a bitter smile. "Yeah, well...maybe hard work ain’t enough this time." He looked at you, his expression softening just a fraction. "You’re the only thing keeping me from losing it, sweetheart. I ain’t gonna handle it on my own out there, not without you."

Your heart ached for him, but you knew what you had to do. With a gentle hand, you reached for his arm, slowly guiding him toward the exit. Jack’s eyes widened, panic flickering in them as he realized what you were doing.

"Hey, hey, wait—what the hell are you—" He tried to pull away, but you held firm, your smile sad but resolute.

"Jack, you deserve a life outside these walls. You’ve earned it. And your son deserves his father back." The mention of Danny made Jack freeze, his breath hitching. "You can have another chance with him. Don’t waste that."

Jack’s determination deflated in an instant, replaced by a deep, gut-wrenching sorrow. He lowered his gaze, the fight draining out of him. "I...I don’t know if I can."

"You can," you whispered softly, squeezing his arm. "And I’ll be here when you’re ready to come back. But you have to try, Jack."

For a long moment, Jack stood there, staring at the open door like it was the edge of a cliff. Then, finally, with a defeated sigh, he nodded in agreement. "Alright, alright...whatever."

You smiled, gently pushing him toward the exit one last time. "Go on, Jack. I am rooting for you."

As he stepped through the door, Jack paused, looking back at you one last time. "Don’t you forget about me, alright ?"

"I won’t," you promised, watching as he disappeared into the world beyond.

……

Bonus

The facility was quiet. Too quiet. You stood in the empty corridor, staring at the space that once buzzed with life, chaos, and more than a few death threats—yet now, all of it was gone. The slashers were gone.

One by one, they had walked out, some more willingly than others. You had seen them off, each with their own strange mix of emotions, but now…the finality of it all was hitting you. The air felt heavy, like a weight pressing down on your chest as you wandered aimlessly through the halls, past the rooms that had once been filled with their presence.

Jason’s room—cold and methodical, but with a small corner where he’d kept all of his little wood figurines, a reminder of the quiet peace he found here. You picked up a little frog figurine and smiled at it before walking away. Freddy’s space, always filled with his arrogant cackling and sarcastic jabs, was eerily silent. The air no longer held that faint scent of burnt metal. Brahms’ toys were gone too, the little things he’d cling to, now absent from the shelf he’d always obsessively arranged.

You paused outside Bo and Vincent’s shared room. The door was ajar, just as they had left it. Bo’s worn cap hung haphazardly over a chair’s back corner, and Vincent’s sketches still covered the walls, half-finished masterpieces of a mind far more brilliant than most would ever understand. But even in their messy intimacy, there was a void, a stark reminder that they weren’t coming back.

You stepped inside and sank into Bo’s chair, resting your head in your hands as the emptiness finally got to you. You had fought so hard for them, had seen them in ways the world never would, had given everything to help them find a new beginning. And now, they were free. You should feel proud. Relieved, even.

But all you felt was lonely.

The facility had been your home too, your sanctuary in a world that could never quite understand you or them. Now, without them here, it felt cold. Hollow. So damn empty. The echoes of their voices, the weight of their presence still lingered like ghosts haunting the spaces they had left behind.

You closed your eyes, trying to suppress the tightening in your chest. You had known this day would come. You had helped them prepare for it, pushed them when they needed it. But nothing could have prepared you for the silence that followed.

For a long time, you sat there, alone in the stillness. It felt like mourning—not just for the slashers, but for the connection you had built with each of them. You had been their confidante, their friend, their guide. And now, in their absence, you didn’t know who you were anymore.

Your mind drifted to each of them—Jason, Freddy, Brahms, Bo, Vincent, Pennywise, Penny, Michael and all the others. You wondered if they would make it out there. If they would find happiness, if they would remember you. And then there was a pang in your heart—a fear that maybe, just maybe, you had been forgotten already.

You stood up, moving through the empty halls with one final look, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. You had done your job. They were free. But somewhere in the quiet, you wished you hadn’t been left behind.

For now, though, you would keep that promise to them. You would wait. Even if it meant sitting in the stillness, holding onto the hope that one day, they might come back.

You closed the door behind you.

[sports-on-sundays]

hiee, could you do a pau x reader where they've known each other since middle school or so and started dating in high school and are best friends before anything else. but as he starts to get famous and known in the group he gets his head in the clouds and starts neglecting her and is embarrassed by her (?) she tries to save their relationship but gets sick of it and breaks it off and gavi has to knock some sense into pau. (pls make it angsty 😭) i love your writing so much!!

love and fame / Pau Cubarsí

Summary: Pau x girlfriend!reader - In which the fame starts to get to a certain teenager's head.

Warnings: angst, neglect, crying, censored cuss

Requested?: Yea

Author's Note: This is a very good, well thought out request; thanks for the great idea! And honestly it makes me so happy to know you like my writing so much; thank you! Also I don't know if you meant it to be a romantic relationship, but I made it that in the end and only realized you may have meant something different once I was finished, so I'm sorry if I misinterpreted that, and I hope you like it still, either way!

It's like you knew what would happen before you even knew it.

"Wow, Pau," you had grinned, high-fiving your boyfriend after a game. You gave him a short hug, patting his back. "You're getting pretty famous, huh?"

"Yeah," he had laughed a bit. "It's crazy. Months ago, I felt like, you know, just me. Just Pau. Now people know me. They're asking for my autographs more and more. Someone wanted me to take a picture with their baby!"

Your nose had crinkled up, but also you laughed a bit at that. "Whoa." You lean back to look up at him, crossing your arms. "Well, you've always been 'just Pau' to me. Cute Pau, who plays football, and who my friends all tell me has a crush on me."

"Yeah, until I confessed it," he said with an eye roll, feeling as though he'd heard this a million times, but still enjoying hearing it, regardless.

But for right now, he looked at you with meaning, and pride. "But aren't you impressed? You know, that I'm going big?"

You grinned. Right now, for now, he cared about what you thought. He cared to make you proud.

Still.

"Hmmm... Ask me again after you've won some silverware," you had teased lightheartedly, obviously proud of him.

He grinned back and claimed confidently, "It's only a matter of time!"

Then you had started walking together, with his arm around your shoulders. You hesitated, pondering for a bit on your words, before casually commenting, "Just don't let the fame get to your head."

"What do you mean?" he had asked, eyebrows furrowing.

"You know... I just hope you'd never put it before me. Or before any other people you love, for that matter."

But he laughed, brushing it off right away. "Of course not, Y/n. No need to worry about that!"

And by the way he said it, you believed him. That sounded so genuine. As if it was silly for you to worry about such a thing. So you trusted him.

Now you see he should've given that comment from you a little bit more thought before openly denying it could ever be a possibility.

Because now, scarily enough, it looks like a very likely possibility.

You're visiting family in Seville, and planned it that way so you'd be able to surprise Pau by meeting him at his game. You weren't exactly expecting him start the game, but when you saw he was, that made it even better.

Or so you thought it would.

Well, it was a great game to watch. Anyone could say that much. A 2-4 win with a hat trick from Ferran- you're happy this is the away game you were able to plan to come to.

Now you laugh and exclaim when you see Pau after the game, all dressed in street clothes again with a few of his teammates- the two goalscorers themselves, and Iñaki Peña. But when he looks up and sees you, he suddenly looks-

uncomfortable?!

"H- Hey, Y/n," he quickly says, glancing to his teammates.

"What's your problem?" you demand, promptly shoving Ferran a bit in order to get to your boyfriend and stand in front of him with crossed arms.

"Nothing... Just, come on..." he says, grabbing your hand and starting to walk quicker down the hall. You see him eyeing both his teammates and a camera in the hall very nervously.

"Is something wrong...?" you inquire.

"Nope! But yeah, great game, no?" he says as you exit the hallway. He seems to be keeping a strange amount of distance between you and him.

"Right... You did great..." you respond, nodding slowly, your thoughts now completely elsewhere.

"Why?" you demand, crossing your arms. You were all ready, wearing your backwards flat cap, football jersey, and shorts. You were just tying up your hair, sitting across from him in an ice cream parlor, when Pau dropped his stupid little suggestion. "Why can't I come to training with you?"

"Be- Because it's not for you!" he argues. "It's for me. You're not a part of the team. You're not even a guy. It's not fair for you to just show up."

You frown. "What, did someone tell you that? Or did you just make that up on the spot, because there's some other reason why you don't want me coming?"

After knowing each other for five years, you and Pau have pretty much figured out how to catch if the other is lying or not.

Pau's face lights up pink embarrassed, proving your suspicions to be true.

You frown. "Pau, your whole team loves me! They don't mind if after training I kick the ball around with them a bit! What, is that the reason? Are you jealous?"

"No... no. That's not it," he shakes his head slowly, before suddenly looking at his watch. "Oh, God, I've got to go now, otherwise I'll be late!"

"I'm coming with!" you demand, standing up.

"No, no!" he says, gently pulling you away from the door. He forces you to look him in the eyes and mutters, "Please?"

You frown deeper. Hesitate. You sigh and mutter, "Whatever. Sure. But we're going to talk about this later."

He nods, seeming a little too relieved for it to be normal, before he walks out of the parlor, shutting the door behind him with a jingle of it's bell, leaving you standing alone in there, looking like an idiot.

You sigh, trying to process all this, but not understanding any of it one bit.

When you see Pau again, he somehow manages to avoid that talk you promised him by just being the sweetest with all his cuddles and compliments. You don't realize it was forgotten before he's gone, and it's too late now.

You sigh, deciding to brush it off. Convincing yourself it's nothing.

But then it goes weeks. No communication, or very little. It's strange, and extremely unlike Pau, who has always been one to always respond. Always spam rants. He always has the last word.

So to be suddenly sending short, dry, infrequent texts? And not inviting you to any dates or events?

It gives you a bad, bad, sinking feeling.

"Hey, Pau!" you attempt at smiling when you finally see him again. "It's been... too long, love..." you start. It's after a home game, and you wanted to catch him.

But he sort of just...

Puts you aside.

"One second, Y/n. I've got to finish something. And, uh, can you not just show up at a game like this...? You're kind of...?"

"I'm kind of... what?!" you demand, grabbing his shoulder, forcing him to give you his attention.

He hesitates, before muttering, "You're kind of dragging me down."

Your mouth drops at the same time as your heart does in your chest. "I'm- I'm what?" Your eyes are wide.

He blushes and mutters, "I guess I just... I kind of want to have you and my... my football life, my fame, separated."

You glare, crossing your arms. "Since when have you wanted me separated from anything in your life? What is this all of the sudden?"

He frowns, blushing deeper. "I don't know... I just... I don't know."

"Okay," you snap. "Whatever." And you walk off in anger, just like that.

He doesn't call you back, so you suppose you're leaving, just like he wants you to.

"So?" you stare across at Pau, unimpressed. You invited him to your house, and now you sit at your kitchen table with your hands resting on it, crossed.

"What?" he sighs, looking guilty.

Well, he probably is guilty. He's super guilty. This conversation is just a matter of figuring out what he's guilty of.

"Why have you been ignoring me? Why have you seemed embarrassed any time I'm around? Are you ashamed of me?"

He frowns. "Uh..."

"So you are ashamed of me?" just the question of that sends a pang through your chest.

"I-"

"Why? What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing! It's just... Y/n, listen. I'm famous now. You're, like, just Y/n. You're just a regular girl... I just don't..."

"You don't want it being known you have just a regular girlfriend?!" you fume. "You said you wanted to be 'just Pau'! You said you didn't mind that!" You stand up. "But now you can't have your girlfriend being 'just Y/n'?" you jab in a mocking tone.

He takes your hand and says hesitantly, "You can be my girlfriend... I just..."

"You just don't want anyone seeing me, ever. You're ashamed of me," you confirm, pulling your hand away from his. You hesitate, before saying, "I'll give you a chance. If you can get your head out of the clouds, do it, because we have something that isn't worth losing over this."

He looks up nervous. "You would break up with me?"

"If you don't fix this, Pau. I love you, but I won't-" your voice falters for the first time. "I won't stay with you if you don't fix this. You can't expect me to put myself through that."

He suddenly stands up and hugs you, but it doesn't feel right. It should feel more comforting than it does.

But you swallow. You need to trust him. You should trust that the boy you've loved for years wouldn't throw away your relationship so easily.

He wouldn't, right?

You lay awake at night, laying on your back, staring up at the ceiling. Tears run softly, slowly down the sides of your face, onto your pillow, sinking into it.

Disappearing.

"Pau," you whisper into the empty, stuffy, lonely dark room. "What is it about me? Is there another girl you like more? Am I really that much to be... To be ashamed of?" You groan.

Great. Now I'm talking to myself, because I know I couldn't say this right ot his face.

I'd be too scared to know what his answers would be.

I just want him back. The Pau I know. Not this distant, strange thing he has going on. I want the sweet boy who always wanted me around. The boy who could never shut up about me, never stop raving about me.

Now he's ashamed of my very existence, it seems.

Is it really just the money breaking him? The fame, shattering him to pieces?

That's the only solution you can think of, but you don't want to settle for it.

You shut your eyes, convincing yourself that sleep is needed now.

Though shutting your eyes just pushes more tears out of them.

"It's over..." Somehow, you clench your jaw and stare into him. Somehow, you force yourself to look as hard and cold as a rock.

And as strong as one.

But inside, you're being shattered to pieces, and it's only a matter of time before you break.

Like, for real.

"What? Y/n, no- Please!" But his words, and his tone, doesn't match up with the look in his eyes.

Not exactly.

It's like there's two parts of him, inside, battling each other.

One sees the worth in this relationship. One regrets, and wants to amend. One wants to hold on.

But the other more predominant part is ready to let you go. It sees you as a burden, as a girl that's going to drag him down and make him look bad. A girl who isn't charismatic enough, or pretty enough, to be the girlfriend of a celebrity. A girl who just doesn't make the cut.

Now, you can't stop tears from filling up your eyes as you snap back bitterly, "No, Pau. I gave you a second chance. And a third chance. You didn't listen. You clearly don't care enough about me to get your head out of the clouds and actually make a change! So it's over! Over!"

And by the time you walk out, you're sobbing. Tear, streaming down your cheeks. Your legs shake, and everything feels so wrong.

It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fair.

We were meant to be.

Forever.

We were suppose to be made for each other.

You sit alone in your room. Pulling at your messy, knotted hair. Feeling unwanted.

You are unwanted, Y/n, a voice in your head screams. He was the one that seemed to love you most, that seemed to never want to hurt you. And he was the one who let go of you, in the end.

You choke out another sob. Your parents were concerned, trying to figure out what was wrong, but right when you yelled when you walked into the house that he's an ungrateful b*tch and you never should have gotten with him in the first place-

You suppose they figured it was Pau.

You swallow back your tears, though you know that won't do anything in the end.

They're just going to keep coming.

For months, it's like you were holding this all in. All these emotions. The hope that things would turn around kept you strong enough not to fall apart.

But now here you are.

Falling apart, because now you see there is no hope.

And it really is over.

You roll over, staring at the wall. Tired, blubbering, whimpering back the sobs that softly escape from you. Staring at the peeling Barcelona posters. Anger boils up in you, and you suddenly reach up. "I don't want anything to do with you and your stupid club that changed you!" you suddenly scream, tearing it off the wall, throwing it on the floor.

You press you forehead against the cool wall, breathing deeply and sniffle pathetically, "I loved you."

And you add as your head pounds from all the confusion and tears in a soft cry, "And I still do."

"Is something wrong?" Gavi quite suddenly asks of Pau during some light warmups.

"Why do you ask?" Pau demands, meeting his eyes.

"You've been... quiet. Seems like something is on your mind?"

"Not really," Pau lies.

"Yeah, right."

"Why do you say that?" challenges the younger of the two teenagers.

"Because I know you're wrong. I know something is on your mind."

Pau frowns, pouting a bit at that. "How could you tell?"

Gavi shrugs casually, stretching out his leg gently. "Just can. But anyway- what is it? Does it have to do with your girlfriend suddenly seemingly disappearing off the face of planet Earth?"

Pau groans, leaning his head back. "How did you know?" he says, sounding more sarcastic and defeated this time than he sounded last time.

Gavi shrugs once more. "Two plus two equals four. So she ditched you?"

"That's a harsh way to put it."

"So she ditched you," Gavi repeats, but this time it's not a question, and more like a confirmation. He waits a few seconds, grabs a ball, then starts doing keepie uppies. After some more time, he passes the ball to Pau in the air as he asks, "So why was it?"

"Why was what?" Pau asks, playing stupid, as they continue passing the ball back and forth, doing a few kick-ups in between each pass.

"You know," Gavi says simply.

Pau sighs heavily. "Ask her, if you want to know why she broke up with me."

"But I'm asking you."

"You're nosy!"

"Okay, sure. Anyway, why did she break up with you?"

Pau frowns. Hesitates. "I don't know. I think she didn't think I was giving her enough attention?"

"Were you?"

Pau glances away.

"Were you?" Gavi repeats.

Pau sighs again. "Probably not." But then he quickly adds, "I just don't know if she was good for me."

"What do you mean? Why not?" There's no judgment in the nineteen-year-old's voice. Just inquiry.

Pau shrugs tentatively. "I don't know... I mean, like, she's just kind of regular."

"Regular?" Gavi asks, and now there's judgment in his tone. Judgment that Pau doesn't particularly appreciate.

"Yes, regular! She's just, like, some girl! I'm getting famous now, and there are so many girls that have crushes on me... like, all over. I mean, you know how it is. Would you settle for some random girl-next-door type, when you have so many options?"

"What do you expect to get?" Gavi demands. "Some girl who looks pretty but has no heart? Some girl that wants your money over your personality? Pau, if I had a girlfriend that I'd have known for as long as you've known Y/n, I wouldn't let go of her for all the money in the world."

"Maybe you're a different person than me, then!" Pau snaps, getting red in the face.

"Of course I am! But I'm just telling you my opinion. She's sweet, and she loves you. She has your interests, she cares, and you already know each other's families. Do you really not love her, or are you just embarrassed that you love her?"

Pau's jaw clenches. "I- I don't know." But something about what he just said, deep down in his chest, seems to hit home.

"And, God, she's pretty. I think you're being a bit too high with your expectations. Seems to me you think you're better than you are." Gavi looks up as he passes the ball in the air once more to Pau. "Maybe you should get your head out of the clouds, step down from the pedestal you've built yourself, and look at things a little bit more rationally to how reality actually is." As the ball lands at Pau's feet, Gavi turns with a wave. "If I were you, I would think about this more. It's clear you're not the same without her. You think you'll be happier without her, but clearly, you're not."

As Gavi walks away, paying careful mind to his knee, he comments, glancing back one more time, "You should think about apologizing. Think about what I said. Because that girl is worth a lot more than you think she is right now."

And Pau is left there, standing. Staring.

And, yes, he has a lot to think about.

It's not too far off to say that you've been a shell of yourself since the breakup. There's a hollowness to your eyes, and silence to your vocal cords, and a constant slight shaking to your hands.

It's like you're holding on my a thread, because at any moment, you could break.

Again.

Sometimes you wonder to yourself why you would let a boy control your feelings so much.

But then you remind youreslef that usually, you wouldn't.

Pau was always just different.

Something about you and him clicked.

Perfectly.

There was never a fear of a breakup with him. You never even expected that to happen. You imagined yourself always to be with him. Someday, you might even get married.

Of course, you had had your fantasies about that.

But now that expectation is crushed, and your heart can't deal with it.

So much so that you had to block is number. And all his socials.

Because it was too much of a temptation to just text him. And beg for him to accept you back.

And you knew that wouldn't do any good in the end.

After all, there was a reason why you broke up with him, and a good one, at that.

But in the end, that makes it harder for Pau, two weeks of thinking and stressing after his chat with Gavi, to talk with you.

So he has to go to your house to talk to you.

No getting out of this the easy way, through a text conversation.

Gavi's words just kind of hit a cord in him. Got him thinking. And now as he walks up to the house with a pathetic bouquet of roses behind his back, he's nervous. He feels emotional, but isn't sure how to deal with the feelings he's experiencing.

He supposes when he sees you, he'll just let whatever comes out of his mouth come out, like he usually does, and he'll hope this time, it's something good.

He knows that's not the best approach to life, but can't think of a better way.

When you hear the doorbell ring, you don't really care. Probably just a delivery man, or your parents friends, or something like that. Something you don't care about. So you continue zoning out on your phone, laying on your bed, wearing a t-shirt and pajama pants.

When your mother answers the door, Pau immediately blurts nervously, "H- Hey... Mrs. Y/s/n. Is Y/n home...?"

She squints hesitantly.

Of course. Probably Y/n trash talked me, Pau thinks to himself. Will she even let me in her home?

But after some thought, she turns and calls into the house, "Y/n! There's someone at the door to see you." She gestures to Pau, beckoning for him to come in.

So she leaves the room, and you enter.

And freeze.

Here Pau is. The first time you've seen him in... way too long. And you're wearing pajamas. Your hair is messy. You probably look so tired.

"Pau?" you barely speak. "Why're you here?"

Suddenly he pulls out a bouquet of bright red roses from behind his back, and blurts, "I'm so sorry, Y/n."

You stare at the roses, before hesitantly taking them. "Uh, I..."

Suddenly he takes your free hand in both of his, wrapping it around his two. And he starts rambling. "Y/n, I'm so sorry... I was wrong; I didn't know what I was doing or talking about. I was stupid... I was putting other things over the most beautiful girl in the world. Your heart is one of gold... I'm so stupid, and it took one of my friends talking sense into me for me to even realize what I was doing,- the exact thing I told you I would never do. So I'm sorry, and I want you to please take me back, because I feel like we are actually meant to be. It feels wrong with you not as my girlfriend, so I, uh... I think I want to try this again and show you how much of a good boyfriend I can be. I can put you above the fame, because I think I really do love you, and my heart belongs with yours. I- Are you crying?"

You sniffle, wiping at your eyes. "P- Pau..." you murmur, your voice cracking. "You... You're so..." You cough a little, and let out a little hiccup.

"You... I'm sorry for making you cry..." he says right away, concern etched into his face.

You throw your arms around him and begin crying softly into his shoulder. He gently rubs your back, as you press the roses against his.

"You made me cry so much," you breathe. "More than you'll ever know."

"Oh, Y/n," he breathes. And there's regret in his voice. Real regret. "I'm so sorry... Please let me make it up to you now."

You sniff, leaning away to look up at him. "You don't care that my hair is tangled right now? Or that I'm just wearing my pajamas?"

"If I did, that would show I really haven't come around. Of course I don't care. I'm just glad you're here... In... in my arms again."

You sniff and nod. "Thank- Thank you, Pau... For everything. And I forgive you. I forgive you," you take in a few deep breathes, before adding, "And thanks for the roses. They're nice. Smell nice."

He nods, his eyes softening even further. "So... you'll give me another chance?"

You hesitate for only a second, before nodding. "Yes, I will."

He pulls you into another hug, wrapping you in his strong warmth.

It feels like true comfort. Like he really does care.

You breathe a breath of fresh air.

[jawnscoffee]

hiiii

after AGES, i‘ve finally gotten back into writing *yayyy*

this is a sequel to the oneshot Serenity After the Turmoil by @lisbeth-kk (go read it!!! It‘s such a lovely idea) aaaand yeah :) it would mean the world to me if you checked it out!! (also, hope you like it 🙉)

Serenity After the Turmoil (part 2)

Even though the living room light was dimmed, John had to squint his eyes as he walked towards the door, which revealed what lay behind it with a small gap. Luckily, he'd oiled the door pins a few weeks ago, because it would have been really unfortunate if its loud squeak had interrupted the gentle melody Sherlock was playing.

John carefully opened the door a little further and then stopped. Sherlock was standing in his usual place when he played the violin, with his back turned to him. John had often wondered why he always played in front of the window - if people saw him showing off his double chin, he wouldn't be able to concentrate on any notes. Not that he could read sheet music - he was about as musically gifted as a whining dog. And double chins weren't a bad thing - actually, most people had them. Except Sherlock. He didn't have a double chin, as John knew, even though he couldn't see his face right now. And his musical talents more than surpassed his own. His blue dressing gown swayed gently with the soft movements he made as he played, seemingly absorbed in the music. Until he suddenly stopped moving, put the bow between his teeth (or at least that's what it looked like from behind) and pulled a pencil out of his pocket with his free hand and scribbled something on the sheet of paper on the music stand.

"You don't have to stand so stiffly in the doorway, John."

Of course Sherlock had noticed that John had come. What else.

John cleared his throat, ignoring the warmth slowly rising up the back of his neck.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you," he said, taking a few awkward steps into the living room.

Sherlock just shrugged and mumbled something unintelligible before slipping the pen back into his coat pocket and turning round. His dark curls looked a little more messy than normal, indicating that he had been in bed, but his eyes were wide awake.

"Did I wake you?" John asked, guilt creeping up inside him. Maybe he should just get some sleeping pills. Or wait, he was a doctor himself. Maybe he should just prescribe-

"No, I couldn't sleep either," Sherlock replied, shaking his head. "And then I heard you...", he seemed to search for the right word for a moment, "...making noises from your room that didn't sound like you were having a good dream."

John lowered his eyes, unable to stop the heat from rising in his cheeks, but Sherlock didn't seem to mind the obvious reference to sex dreams.

"Since it calmed you down the last time I played the violin, I figured I might as well use a sleepless night to do it again," he continued unaffected, shrugging again.

John had now raised his gaze again and didn't know what to say for a moment. So Sherlock had actually heard him and played the violin for him. To calm him down. Wow.

"I, um..." John put a hand on the back of his neck and cleared his throat again. "Thank you," he then said. "What you played was really nice. Did you write that?"

Suddenly it was Sherlock who seemed a little uncomfortable in his own skin, because he lowered his eyes and placed his violin and bow beneath his armchair.

"Yes. In a way," he then said. "It's inspired by…someone."

"Someone?" John asked in surprise, raising his eyebrows. "Are you going out with someone?"

[drdemonprince]

Any chance you'd expand on the hank hill trans guy post? (Sorry, best indicator I could come up with.) The concept interests me as I decidedly know my maleness, yet don't feel impeded by for the most part, any male gendered norms/boxes. I am fairly masculine, though I rarely use those kinds terms to describe myself. I have found I often do stray outside of what society pushed for me when I transitioned, yet I again do not feel it has taken from my right to maleness whatsoever. I am just me, who happens to be male. I have had friends try and suggest I am NB adjacent but I do not feel this way whatsoever. I feel more people are outliers to gender expectation than we care to admit and it's disappointing the way cis-people deny that. Hope this wasn't too long winded, I value your writing and perspective, and wanted to hear more of your thoughts on this.

Yeah, well so many things all get conflated by gender labels, and it's all so personal, you know? Masculinity does not have to mean maleness, and a person's gender identity might be a reflection of some innate quality they experience themselves as having, or a general summary of their tendencies, or their desired presentation, or their sense of affinity with other people, or an interpersonal tool, or something they just go along with because it was given to them by society, or any other number of things.

I think my recent substack piece on detransition goes into this pretty well, and I have an upcoming piece of what @pastimperfection calls "bilateral dysphoria" that comes out next week that delves into it too.

I think I mostly saw taking on a male identity as a means to an end more than any kind of innate reflection of who I was, though I did feel an affinity with effeminate men for a lot of reasons. I think I also discounted how much I have in common with my fellow nonbinary people of all stripes, because that identity became so strongly associated with being an annoying type of queer person that everybody else just wrote off as ultimately being their assigned gender at birth anyway no matter how much they protested. it doesn't help that 'nonbinary' is a catchall term for literally thousands if not millions of very distinct experiences and desires.

transitioning gave me control over how i was perceived, finally, but hormones are a throttle that only go in one very specific direction, and you don't really have all that much control over which changes kick in at which times and what people will make of you once you do start registering to them as some identity other than what you were first saddled with. it's an incredible gift to be able to toggle that throttle. but it's limited, not because medical transition isn't incredible and needed for so many, but because there is no escaping the goddamned binary cissexist logic that influences everything about how people treat you, how you navigate institutions, who finds you desirable and what they want out of you, and so much else.

if you're able to cast a lot of the external societal bullshit aside and feel strong in your maleness, maybe you're stronger than me or maybe our orientation to these things is just different, i don't know. i was never all that sensitive to feedback that i was doing the whole being-a-woman-thing all that wrong. i reveled in violating those rules to an extent. succeeding at being a woman despite my best attempts was what felt super dysphoric. and now i guess im succeeding at being a man, insofar as im always read as one, and it feels just as uncomfortable and objectifying and false. i thought that with manhood i could probably just grit my teeth and deal with it, but i'm finding that i can't.

ive always been very open that for me, gender is a thing I Do, and i guess to those who know me well it wouldnt be surprising to hear that i have gotten tired of Doing Being a Man and dont feel like playing that particular gendered game anymore. I tend to get bored of things! and find the flaws in things. and find my comfort in being fault-finding and contrarian and not being a joiner. and thats okay. i learned a lot along the way. not having to try any more is a huge relief. i can just do whatever. and know actively that people will more often than not be wrong in what they make of me.

maybe it was natural feeling for you to decidely 'know' your maleness without a care for masculine standards because that is the right identity for you! and maybe i only feel secure in the "not knowing" realm and in letting go of what people think of me or finding any kind of tidy categorization for it because that's the right spot for me. for now. until i find a new interesting way to be unhappy and striving for more and different again. :) that's just part of being alive, for me.

[dariwrites03]

Fucked up Monday. 2/3

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/daribertduck/748615753776955392/fucked-up-monday

A/n: Before you guys kill me; I’m already writing part 3. don’t you worry it’s coming your way. Please comment & repost, it’s giving me much motivation!

Summary: After Ellie kissed you on Patrol, everything was turning weird, you’re full of guilt and other feelings... What happens when your life turns from agonizing to better to so much worse? And why exactly can a few letters change everything?

Warnings: none? I think?

Taglist: @bready101 @lia-winther @liciapeonia @darkerstarsstuff @patricks-fabulous-face ( I tagged some people from my comments, hope that’s alright)

-5700k words

„And I thought I was weird for feeling uncomfortable at that, you know? They broke up, it's not really his place to say anything like that especially after telling Dina he's over her anyways" You're best friend said, finishing up her explanation of yesterdays event with Dina and Jesse. He found the two of them smoking near a warehouse and from what you made out of Ellie's explanation, he wasn't too happy to see them sitting so close.

You and Ellie were having another movie night, those happen pretty often. ( Every Wednesday, to be exact.) sitting on the old sofa in your living room with you're legs resting on hers. „Well, it's still fresh. Don't think he's jealous of the two of you spending lots of time together but maybe it's just a weird feeling seeing her with someone else, though there's absolutely nothing between you and Dina" you replied, chuckling at the thought of Jesse being all jealous over nothing. You rested your head back against the many sofa pillows, enjoying the comfy half sitting half laying position you're in. „Yeah.. totally" Ellie mumbled, looking down at her hands resting on top of you ankles, shifting uncomfortably. Knowing Ellie probably better than anyone else, you knew right away that something seems off.

„Wait.." you said,  sensing the weird vibe from you're best friend. „There is nothing between you two, right?" you said, lifting you're upper body into a more sitting posture. „Ellie?" you said her name as you're so called friend didn't answer right away. You felt you're heart stink, not really being sure of what's going on exactly. „uhm.. I don't wanna talk about it?" she said, looking at you with an apologetic look, making it sound more like a question than an real steady answer. „Hell no, remember our ‚no lying rule'?" you said. „Cmon we made that rule as we were 15, that's childish." she said while caressing through her hair, suddenly looking all exhausted. „It wasn't childish when I had my first kiss and didn't want to talk about it" You mentioned. Remembering the night you ran about 2 miles to Ellie's house after spending the afternoon with some other kids in the pub, playing some stupid games. After you kissed Sophia as you're truth or dare quest you took of running, straight into the arms of the brown haired girl who couldn't participate that nights event due to a cold. Ellie knew something must've happened and as you really didn't want to talk about it, embarrassed by the fact that everyone could probably tell you never kissed anyone ever before, Ellie set up a rule. *„Let's promise to always be honest, life is too fucked up to screw it up with lies"* you knew she was right and since that night you tried to always be honest to each other.

„Cmon that's totally different!" Ellie defended herself, crossing her arms above her chest. „Jesus, Williams, answer the fucking question and stop being difficult" you said with a light voice, feeling like Ellie was some deer that takes of running as soon as you're tone was slightly off. „I mean, there is nothing between me and Dina.. so" she explained and you could tell that She was satisfied with her answer since her shoulders became less tense. „But you wish there was?" you asked, not able to look at Ellie you decided to give you're hands something to do, grabbing the soda can you had standing infront of you at the table. „I.. yeah, I guess? Okay. Who am I kidding" she said, her hands running over her face. She revealed a slight laugh. „Oh god" she groaned, now fully blushing like a 13 year old teenager. „Yeah, yeah I do like her. Fuck, this is the first time admitting it out loud" she said.

You took a sip from you're soda, the carbonic acid being long gone since you opened the can almost 2 hours ago, giving you a second or two to continue to stay silent. Having the opportunity to ignore the trouble of you're mind right now

The Jealousy building up inside of you made you think like you're going all crazy, fighting against the urge to scream inside a pillow you took that energy elsewhere. „okay, good for you" you said, taking another sip from the drink, hoping to put out the fire building up in you're chest. Ellie looked at you saying „it's not weird, right? Falling for her?" you looked at her again, considering of telling her what you really think. You consider of telling her that's it's not weird, but you don't like it either. No , you hate it. You hate it so much because you want Ellie to fall for you instead of her.

But you didn't say that. Instead you betrayed your 15 year old self by lying to Ellie and yourself. 

It's been three months, 4 days and 2,5 Hours without a word from her. 

 Ever since then , You are entangled in the delicate web of grief for what felt like for two people, where the threads of loss and longing weave intricate patterns within your heart. Two souls, distinct yet equally significant, find their place in the chambers of your being.

Dylan, now resting six feet under, has embarked on a journey beyond the veil. His earthly vessel lies cradled by the soil, while his essence pirouettes among the constellations. The wasteland of the unknown stretches before him—And then there's your best friend, a constellation of memories and shared secrets. But her presence has become elusive, slipping through your fingers like sand. She chooses silence—a withdrawal that echoes louder than any spoken words. And you tried. Oh, how you tried to get her to speak—the silent symphony of longing, the unspoken words that hung in the air like dew-kissed spider silk. Your gaze, a language of its own, whispered secrets that transcended mere sentences. But she? She met your offerings with silence—a void that echoed louder than any spoken syllable. She stopped coming over. The threshold of your space became a chasm, a bridge severed by unspoken truths. The door, once a portal to laughter and whispered confidences, now stood closed. The only ever time you got to see her, to give yourself the inner peace of her being okay, was on the weekly parol meetings. She attended, her presence a fragile thread connecting you both. But she mastered the art of departure—slipping away before your eyes could catch hers. The opposite direction became her refuge, a path untrodden by your footsteps.

Talking wasn't what Ellie needed. You sensed it, that unspoken ache in the air—the need for silence, for space. So you stepped back, honoring the boundaries she drew around her heart. But your longing couldnt be unoticed by you any longer so after three weeks, you started writing to her. Youre desperation spilled over, ink bleeding onto paper.  You became a clandestine messenger, slipping perfumed notes into the small slit of her mailbox. Each letter carried a piece of your soul—a plea, a confession, a desperate whisper.  It lingered on your fingertips, a bridge between worlds. And as you pressed those letters into the darkness, you imagined her fingers brushing against them. Would she feel the urgency? Would she hear your silent screams for her friendship?  Handwritten letters—those delicate vessels of ink and paper—weave memories that transcend mere words. Each stroke of the pen, each carefully crafted sentence, carries a piece of the you in them. The intimacy lies not only in the content but also in the act of creation itself. You decided to write her if shes unable to talk, you wanted to give her the space she needed, you tried to be as understanding as you could. But one unanswered letter turned into two, three, four. You stopped putting them into her mailbox after five. 

Now, you're trying to ignore the pain in your heart every time you wake up. Ellie's childish behavior hasn't stopped you from living your life. Instead, you channel your anger and sleepless nights into your work, making each patrol count. Working alongside Jesse has become a bright spot—a fun experience you eagerly anticipate. It's not the same as those moments outside the gates with Ellie, but it's different in a way that doesn't breed resentment.

You and Jesse share a closeness that predates his separation from Dina. The heartbreak they both faced has left its mark, and you find solace in each other's company. Jesse isn't thrilled about the situation either—the breakup and lingering jealousy still gnaw at him. On that second day of patrol together, he broaches the awkward topic between you and Ellie. "So, you gonna tell me what happened or not?" Jesse's voice cut through the quiet of the abandoned checkpoint. He pulled a sandwich from his backpack, the crinkling of the wrapper echoing in the dim light. The two of you sat there, weary from the day's patrol, the weight of your assigned route still clinging to your bones. Nightfall had descended too swiftly, and the dangers of this post-apocalyptic world made it impossible to venture home safely after dark. You shifted uncomfortably on the hard ground, the rough edges of the old checkpoint digging into your back. The makeshift campsite was a stark reminder of the life you now led—constantly on the move, always vigilant. Jesse's eyes bore into yours, waiting for an answer.

"Don't really know what's there to say, to be honest," you replied, your fingers tracing the edges of the food you'd prepared hours ago. The silence now haning between the two of you wasnt uncomftable,punctuated by the distant howl of a lone infected.  "Maybe explain why we're now patrol partners? I thought you and Ellie made such a good team. Not that I'm complaining, though—we're badass too. Just wondering why you suddenly decided that Ellie wasn't good enough anymore," Jesse's voice cut through the dimly lit space of the makeshift camp. He lay down on the sleeping bag, using his right arm as a makeshift pillow, his gaze fixed on you. The flicker of confusion danced through the forest of your mind as you replayed Jesse's last words.

"What? I didn't decide that," you replied, studying your friend's posture as he took a bite of his cheese sandwich. "I asked Dina what happened earlier today." Jesse mumbled, his mouth still half full. "Ellie told her it was you who decided to change partners. Don't get me wrong—I feel honored to be your new partner in crime. I was just curious about what happened." - ''the fuck?'' You said more to yourself than him. ''Thats so fucked up..'' -"Okay, c'mon, I need the drama. Please explain to me like everything. Consider me one of your gossip girls," Jesse quipped, his unseriousness bringing a smile to your face. You took another bite of your food, savoring the dry bread as you gathered your thoughts. Trusting Jesse, you decided it wasn't a bad idea to share what had transpired between you and Ellie. So, with a deep breath, you began recounting the events of your last patrol with her. Jesse leans in, eyes wide with curiosity. His sandwich forgotten, he hangs on every word as you recount the events of that fateful patrol with Ellie. The tension, the unspoken words, the ache in your chest—it all spills out, painting a vivid picture of the fractured bond between you and the girl who once felt like your world.

"Damn," Jesse mutters, running a hand through his hair. "That's heavy stuff." His gaze lingers on your face, searching for answers. "You think she'll come around?'' You shrug, the weight of uncertainty settling on your shoulders. ''Dont think so, I think she regrets even kissing me. She has dina now, dont think that she'll need me anymore.'' Your gaze drifts down to your wrist, where the matching bracelet still clings—a fragile thread connecting you to Ellie. You wonder if she wears hers. Jesse, now leading forward, nudges your shoulder playfully. "Well, partner," he says, "we'll keep kicking ass out here. Fuck them both".

After that night, you felt like Jesse and you were attached at the hip. Somehow, you both helped each other navigate the jagged terrain of heartbreak, spending time together and letting the hours slip away. Being friends with Jesse had its perks. He acted as a bridge to Ellie, still maintaining a sort of friendship with Dina, getting slim updates from her. Through Jesse, you received updates about Ellie—whether she was safe, whether she'd eaten enough.

But it wasn't the same. Those impersonal updates couldn't replace the warmth of setting eyes on Ellie, hearing her voice—the cadence of her laughter, the way she'd say your name. You missed the little things, the mundane details that had once woven your lives together. But over the time you started to accept the turn of events, knowing you cannot force Friendship on somebody.

You started to distract yourself outside of work, whether it was with Jesse or... Sophia. After that encounter where Maria broke the news to you about Ellie changing everything, you did the only thing you knew you were really good at: You ran off.

Weirdly enough, two weeks after that pivotal moment and your  patrols with Jesse as your new partner, a knock on your door interrupted your vegetable-cutting session in the small kitchen. As you walked toward the door, a million possibilities raced through your mind. Was it Ellie, knocking on the wood on a late rainy afternoon? Or perhaps Jesse, wanting to talk? Dina? Or maybe Joel, coming all the way to the comfort of your four walls to deliver news about his beloved Ellie being hurt.

Secretly, you wished it was Ellie. So you ran a hand through your hair, glancing into the small mirror hanging near the door to check yourself out before opening the squeaky wood.  But on the other side stood Sophia, holding a plate covered in aluminum foil.  "Uhm... hey," she said, her cheeks flushed with red. "I've made some cake—way too much to eat all by myself. I wanted to share it. If, um, you want to, of course. It's chocolate cake." Her words tumbled out in a rush, and you sensed her nervousness. A Small smile spread across your face as you stepped aside, making space for her to enter the house. "That's too kind," you replied. "You've got impeccable timing. I just finished dinner—perfect time for dessert. Come inside." You didn't mention the comforting fact that her house was all the way across town, meaning she'd walked quite a distance just to bring you cake. Nor did you acknowledge that it was common knowledge that Sophia is allergic to Chocolate but it was your favorite.

One hour with Sophia turned into two, and before you knew it, the entire afternoon was filled with your laughter. She ended up staying over, making your house feel less empty. Since Dylan's passing, sleep had eluded you. Without Ellie by your side, it felt impossible to quiet your mind. Sophia changed that somewhat, but it didn't feel the same. Perhaps your own mind betrayed you, clouding your thoughts about her presence. You didn't want her to leave, yet you didn't necessarily want her to stay either. The universe seemed to decide for you, as the strawberry-blonde girl drifted off to sleep on your sofa after what felt like an eternity of talking.

You settled into your gray armchair, gently covering her thin body with your favorite blanket—the same one Ellie used to take whenever she stayed over. The entire night, you found yourself comparing Sophia to Ellie—the way she moved, the cadence of her voice, the sparkle in her eyes when she spoke about her interests. It wasn't a good thing, you must admit. Sophia is a nice girl, but you never really considered her a potential friend, especially since you both shared your first kisses with each other. After that, things got weird, and you both grew up, walking different paths.

Yet now, here she was—baking you cakes, making you laugh, and filling the void left by Ellie. The universe had a funny way of intertwining lives, even when hearts were tangled in memories and unanswered letters. Having someone else in Ellie's place is like trying to fit a puzzle piece into a space that was uniquely shaped for her. It's both comforting and disorienting—a blend of familiarity and foreignness. Her presence brings warmth, but it's a different kind—the soft glow of candlelight instead of the blazing fire that Ellie ignited.Sophia's touch is gentle, her fingers tracing patterns on your skin. But it lacks the electric charge—the pulse of longing—that Ellie's touch carried. You wonder if Sophia noticed the way you hesitated, the way your heart stumbles when she leans in too close.

The day with Sophia didnt end there, it  stretched into a comfortable rhythm, covering the next two days of your life —a dance of shared meals, laughter, and quiet moments. Her presence filled the spaces that Ellie had once occupied, and you found yourself not minding it at all. The awkwardness of those initial conversations melted away as you both peeled back layers, revealing stories and dreams that wove your lives together.

But life has a way of interrupting even the most harmonious melodies. Jesse, with his uninvited pizza and the entire Twilight saga in tow, barged into your living room. You tried to politely decline the teen romance marathon—you'd seen it one too many times—but Jesse, being Jesse, brushed off your protests. His eyes widened when he saw Sophia sitting there, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. You knew he'd milk this moment, teasing you about having a cute girl over at your house.

After Jesse left, well, pratically run out, you settled back onto the sofa next to Sophia. "That was... Jesse, right?" she asked, her fingers playing with her curly hair. You leaned against the soft material of the sofa, nodding. "Uhm, yup." Sophia's gaze lingered on you, and you sensed her curiosity. "You two do spend a lot of time together—even after patrols," she observed."Oh? You noticed that? Stalking me, huh?" you teased, making Sophia blush. Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink. "Well," she replied, her voice soft, "you just always catch my eye." And then, without warning, her body shifted closer. Her hands found their place on either side of your waist, and her lips met yours—a sweetness that tasted like possibility. You hated yourself for it, truly. Because here was a girl with good intentions, almost on top of you, and your mind couldn't help but wish it was Ellie.

Another two months slip through your fingers, ephemeral as morning mist. Life, once heavy with the ache of Ellie's absence, begins to lift itself up.  Sophia becomes a constant presence—a sunbeam that warms the corners of your heart as you allow yourself. Your growing relationship with Sophia blossoms, and you find comfort in her laughter, her touch, and the shared moments that weave your lives together. The unspoken question lingers: Are you allowed to call her your girlfriend? After all, you've shared more than just cake and conversations. Perhaps labels matter less than the way she looks at you, the way her fingers intertwine with yours.

And then there's Jesse—the steadfast friend who bridges the gap between patrols and pizza nights. His teasing about Sophia doesn't go unnoticed, but he's also the one who brings laughter into your home. Everything else remains unchanged—the memories, the unanswered letters, and the quiet longing. Life moves forward, and you find solace in the delicate balance of old and new. Patrol was as good as it could be, once you and Jesse found a way to connect your abilities, it didnt really feel like work anymore. 

"Yo, little one," Jesse's voice cut through the quiet of the stables, interrupting your grooming session with Lacy. You turned to meet his gaze, immediately noticing his patrol clothes—fitting perfectly against his frame. "What the hell are you doing? We have the day off, remember?" you asked, your fingers still caressing Lacy's mane.

"Not anymore," Jesse replied, already opening the door to his horse's stable. "Dina apparently has the flu, and they both forgot to sign in at the station outside. Maria asked me to take their route for today and look for anything weird." He led his dark brown horse out of the stable, determination etched on his face.

"Good luck with that," you said, turning back to continue your work. But Jesse wasn't done. "Nuh huh, lover girl. You're joining me," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Pardon?" You looked at him, confusion knitting your brows. "Don't hit me with Spanish,"- ''Its french'' Jesse chuckled. "well whatever it was,I don't speak it. Come on now, get ready. We don't have all day." He saddled his horse efficiently, his movements practiced. "Why should I? You said yes, not me," you replied stubbornly, even though you gathered all the essentials needed to prepare Lacy. "Well, because I'm your partner in crime? Your work husband? Love of your patrol life?" Jesse grinned, his eyes dancing with mischief. "And because I'll get bored alone. You don't have anything better to do anyway." - ''Rude?! maybe i had things planned?!'' You said, jokingly offended as you grab your stuff  ''You can meet sophia  and have all of those important 'converstations'' he made weird kissing noises ''later.'' He finished his sentance, making you laugh ''Well first of all I-'' You got interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. You looked into the direction of the noise and saw the last person you wanted to see today. ''Sup, Ellie.'' Jesse said, leaning against the stable door. ''what can I do for you?'' He asked, eyes stuck on ellie. But her gaze lied elsewhere; On you.

You shivered under her gaze, your heart racing. As you looked into Ellie's eyes—the first time in forever—you sensed something there, something you couldn't quite put into words. Her burning gaze finally shifted from you to Jesse, arms crossed at her chest.

"Earlier, when me and Dina were at the station, I lost my journal," Ellie said, her voice close, intimate. "Can you look for it? Kinda really need it back." Her words echoed through the stable, and suddenly, the air felt too thin. Your knees wobbled, memories of Ellie cascading down the memory bridge, crashing into your stomach. You felt like you might throw up. "Sure, we will look for it. Anything else?" Jesse asked, glancing between the two of you. Ellie's eyes traveled back to you, and silent hope bloomed in your chest. Maybe this was the moment—maybe Ellie would finally have the guts to talk to you directly, to say she's sorry. But as her gaze wavered, you felt the familiar pang of disappointment. Once again, Ellie remained silent.You felt a strong hand on your shoulder, silently offering support. Jesse's familiar scent enveloped you. "Thought so," he said, ending the conversation. Ellie nodded and turned away, leaving the two of you alone. The barn was filled with silence until you spoke with a shaky voice. "Okay, let's just go." And so you did—you and Jesse left for patrol. But with every passing second, the memory of that confrontation lingered, and you realized how much you still craved her.

"Jesus, I hate this path," Jesse grumbled, pushing open the old, creaky door to the station. His face turned red from the effort, and you couldn't help but giggle. "Stop crying like a baby. Let's sign in and leave," you said, walking toward the desk on the opposite side of the room. As you approached, you noticed that a pen was missing. Without it, you obviously couldn't sign in.

"Jesse, there's no pen," you called out, looking at your friend. "Really? Look under the table or something. We'll find one," he replied. You followed his suggestion, getting down on your knees. Spiderwebs greeted you, along with the encroaching dusk. You pulled out your flashlight, shining it underneath the table for a better look. And there it was—an old, leather-covered book. You'd recognize that book spine anywhere, even in the grandest libraries.

You picked it up, wiping away the dust that clung to its material. The thickness of the journal reminded you of what you were holding—a door to Ellie Williams' secrets and mindful thoughts. "Found one!" Jesse's voice snapped you out of your reverie. You turned around, hiding the journal behind your back. Jesse joined you, writing your names on the slim paper of the checklist. ‘Partner in crimes ( Jesse and y/n)’

"Did you find anything? The book, I mean. It's not somewhere I looked," Jesse asked. You shook your head, slipping the journal into your bag without it being noticed. "Nope, didn't find it either."

''Every poem I ever wrote was about her. That smile of hers, those golden eyes—whenever she's too close to the sun, it's impossible for me to stay away. The day I left, my heart shattered into a million pieces. In my head, inside my perfect self-made world, she never left me. All my thoughts revolve around her—the memories etched into my mind. Her touch, so soft—I never wanted to let go. The scent of her clothes, stealing my breath away. The nights we spent dreaming together, the minutes I never want to regret. I never dared to imagine a lifetime without her. Yet here I am, writing these words with a hole in my chest. I'm bleeding out, the wind kissing my mind, refreshing memories of letting go. The silence surrounds me, a reminder to hold on.

I search the past for redemption, but it eludes me. The only thing left of me are broken pieces of her.”

The words were carefully etched onto the paper, making it hard for you to breathe. You hadn't intended to overstep her privacy—why had you taken that journal in the first place? You dont know.  But here you were, sitting with the book in hand, the only light in the living room emanating from the countless candles you'd lit.

The journal looked thicker than usual, and that's what caught your attention first. You knew that book well, even though you'd never seen what she put inside—except for her drawings of animals, Joel, Dina, and you. She'd never shown anyone what she wrote between the pages.

The reason you'd decided to open the book, against all your inner morals, was the fact that as you carefully pulled it out of your bag—treating it like fragile glass—multiple letters fell out. You noticed them right away. They were yours—carefully written letters she'd never dared to answer. The envelopes ripped open showed you she defenetly read them all. You dont know how to feel about that yet. Relieved that she cared enough to read them? Happy becasue she carried your letters with her, doesnt matter where shed go? Or mad, because she never replied? You know nothing. The only thing you're able to do now is bury yourself in the book, reading what Ellie never dared to say out loud.

''Ive been having a hard time adjusting, I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting. I didn't know if you'd care if I came back, I have a lot of regrets about that. Pulled the car off the road to the lookout, Could've followed my fears all the way down. And maybe I don't quite know what to say but I'm here in your doorway. I just wanted you to know that this is me trying'' 

The words cut deeper than a knife,

before you knew it, your eyes traveled to the next phrases, crossed out, you could barely read them:

"It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you.

Seeing you with Sophie burns me from inside out.

Why are you with her?

I know I don't own you, perhaps I never will,

so the anger inside of me when I see you with her

is something I'm not allowed to feel.

What I feel, I shouldn't show you.

So when you're around, I don't.

I let you walk away with her.

I know I don't have the right to feel it,

but it doesn't mean I don't."

The rest of the book was empty, besides some skteches of eyes that look dangerously like yours. You swallowed hard, not really sure of what you should feel. You re-read the sentences out loud, letting the bittersweet aftertaste of them making you feel alive. Your heart has been Ellies since the first time you both laughed together; yet you were so sure of the fact that she would never feel the same. Considering the words in the journal, maybe it wasnt one sided after all. Youre confused, being with Sophia was easy, comftable. But with ellie, it was different. better. You miss the butterflies in your stomach, miss her touch and her closeness. The rollercoster was everything you ever had, after all.

Two days of full selfishness carried its weight, and you continued to keep the journal. The guilt crept in, stealthy as shadows, finding you at night, when the world slept and your thoughts roamed free. Those written pages from Ellie, inked with longing and crossed-out confessions, haunted your mind. You tried your best to hide the pain, a fragile masquerade. Distancing yourself from Sophia and Jesse, you walked the tightrope of deception. It wasn't deliberate; it was survival. The what-could've-been danced like a ghost, whispering secrets in your ear. You wondered if Ellie's heart echoed the same unspoken words.

Sophia, her presence a comforting harbor, yet her touch felt like borrowed warmth. And Jesse, his eyes— The guilt gnawed at you, a relentless hunger. You held Sophia too close, fearing Ellie's phantom gaze. You looked into Jesse's eyes, and the lie about keeping the Journal tasted bitter on your tongue.  Ellie, elusive as a wisp of smoke. The barn encounter—the air thick with unspoken truths—left you breathless. You havent seen her since. You called in sick for the patrol meeting, a desperate escape from the inevitable. The fear of facing her again, of unraveling the fragile equilibrium, gripped your heart.

In the quiet of your room, the journal lay open. The crossed-out phrases, the sketches of eyes—they were your silent companions.

——————————————————-

"Okay, Miss being all sad and distant, I'm not having this anymore. Tell me what's going on right now or I'm killing you," Jesse declared, pressing past you as you opened the door. His urgency hung in the air, a storm brewing behind his eyes.

"Jesus, very aggressive today, aren't we?" you quipped, trailing after your friend into the living room. The door closed behind you, sealing you both in a cocoon of tension. You sank into the couch, and Jesse settled next to you, his gaze drilling holes into your soul."Therapy session. Now. What's going on?" His hands clasped together, a makeshift gavel. The room felt smaller, suffocating. You glanced at the coffee table, considering the whiskey bottle, but thought better of it. "Nothing? Do you want to drink anything... or?" Your voice played innocent, a fragile mask. Jesse wasn't fooled. "The jury says stop trying to change the subject." His tone held a mix of exasperation and concern."The jury...?" You grinned, despite the weight in your chest. "Yeah, me." Jesse's eyes softened, and you chuckled. "It's nothing, really.“

"You're completely distant," he said, his voice calm. "Even Sophia asked me if I have any idea what's going on." The truth hung between you like a fragile thread, ready to snap.

"I don't know... it's, urgh, weird." You fidgeted with the edge of a cushion. Jesse leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "Tell me!" His insistence bordered on desperation

"Okay, but promise me not to hate me?" You gave him a side-eye, afraid of meeting his gaze head-on. "Could never hate you," he replied, and the words carried weight. So you spilled it—the secret you'd harbored, the journal you'd found.

Ellie's words, inked and crossed out, danced in your memory. You didn't reveal the exact phrasing, but you shared the confusion—the way her emotions bled through the pages. Jesse listened, his eyes wide, and you wondered if he saw the echoes of your own heartache.

In that quiet room, the truth hung heavy. You'd kept Ellie's words hidden, but now they spilled forth. Jesse's hand found yours, and you clung to it, hoping for absolution. "It's Ellie," you whispered. "It's always been Ellie."  His silence spoke volumes, eyes carrying the weight of unspoken understanding. He'd always sensed your feelings for Ellie, perhaps even before you did. It wasn't a secret to anyone but her—the way your heart gravitated toward her, like a moth drawn to a flame. “You guys need to talk.” Jesse said.

"I can't," you whispered, the words fragile on your tongue. The weight of unspoken truths pressed against your chest, threatening to spill forth."And why the fuck not? What do you have to lose?" Jesse's voice held a mix of frustration and concern. He saw through your defenses, stripped away the layers you'd carefully woven. Ellie—the enigma, the ache—loomed between you like a shadow."Afraid of losing her? I think you already archived that." His bluntness cut through your heart. You knew it too well—the missed chances, the crossed-out phrases, the silence that echoed louder than words. Jesse could see the pain in you and the bluntless paired with that slight tinge of what appeared to be anger slowly disappeared into thin air, much like the smoke of a lit cigarette blown into the night sky.

"Look" he begins, sighing while he considers the phrasing of this. He means no harm, but being too gentle could erase the importance of the situation "I want to help you, but you cannot hide yourself away. If you truly want this girl, you need to be able to put in the effort. Dina and Ellie arent dating either, dina told me herself that the two of them thought there was something but ended up with nothing. Be honest with yourself, but also with everyone else" You exhale deeply, relief floods your system despite the heavy heart still pounding against your chest.

Jesse is the kind of friend you can never let go. He's just that important.

Between the soft tunes of comfortingly familiar songs and a few shed tears, the two of you scheme together... Creating a, hopefully, foolproof plan on how to finally approach the elephant in the room. Ellie and you; it wasn't over, was it?

[flowercrowngods]

you said soft things so have this little thing very loosely based on how my first birthday after I moved away from home to live hours away from my family my brother got me a flower delivery thing each month for half a year. So for six months I had the same guy deliver flowers to me, it wasn’t anything but like… it could be, I can make it steddie (it’s 3:30 am and I wrote this in my notes so sorry for any mistakes)

So, Steve who moved kind of far away for college and is living in a shitty student apartment and hasn’t decorated it a lot and Robin thinks he needs something nice to look at every day and something to remind him he has people that loves him when he convinces himself that they’ve forgotten about him now that he’s away. So she gets him a flower delivery once a month with notes saying encouraging messages or bad jokes, sometimes a tiny update. It helps him, he’s not doing badly or anything and actually enjoys studying but he misses his friends.

Then we have Eddie who’s the flower delivery guy, it’s his side job, or it’s his main job and then he also gets payed to play some gigs sometimes. Either way, he delivers flowers. Mostly it’s to old people from their grandchildren, for birthdays, and from someone’s partner, often a partner that has fucked up (he also hand writes the messages that come in with the order and he’s had to write some very pleading apology ones in his time)

He has a monthly order to the same guy, the same gorgeous guy who last time opened the door looking so soft with glasses sliding down his nose and hair all messy and holding a cup of half drunk coffee and gave him such a warm smile he almost proposed to this stranger on the spot.

Every month he’s both so excited to deliver his flowers and also dreads it because he’s 99% sure this guys girlfriend sends them, that they’re long distance and she gets him flowers every month with little notes that he has to write, this month it was ‘I scraped up my whole leg climbing up the tree outside my window sneaking back into my room, I don’t know how you used to do that all the time.’ So like, obviously high school sweethearts if he used to sneak into her room.

So, it’s great because he gets to see this guy who’s stupidly pretty and always gets this wondrous look on his face like he’s still in awe about the flowers months in and that’s honestly the highlight of Eddie’s day. But, it’s awful because he also has to hand him flowers from someone else knowing he’s just some insignificant middle man.

Steve at this point gets more excited about the guy who delivers the flowers than the flowers, he loves them and all but this guy who comes every month and with a dimpled smile hands them over is taking over his brain. He doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable by asking him out though, like he’s doing his job and it feels inappropriate.

He complains to Robin who time after time tells him to just ask the guy out, if he says no it may be a little awkward but it’s a tiny interaction once a month it’s fine. Steve knows she’s right but still doesn’t, is afraid to break the spell of their monthly exchange. Robin grows tired of his pining though and the next time she places an order she makes the note ‘the guy who gets the flowers wants to ask the delivery guy out but keeps chickening out so I’m doing it for him: Delivery guy with bangs and ‘the prettiest brown eyes’ will you go out with Steve?’

Eddie reads that message of the order, has to write that message out with wide confused eyes and hope rising in his chest. When Steve opens his door he shoves the flowers at him and blurts out “I thought you were dating Robin”

Steve gives him a confused look, which yeah of course he does, so Eddie takes a breath and tells him to read the note. The confusion on Steve’s face slowly fades and is replaces with red cheeks and a sheepish smile.

He clears his throat and glances up at Eddie. “She’s my best friend,” he tells him, “may or may not get to keep that title depending on how this goes.”

Eddie is feeling too many things to say more than a breathy, “yes.” At Steve’s raised eyebrow though he clarifies.

“Yes I’ll go out with you.” Then a sudden horrifying thought hits him, “if you actually want that and your friend isn’t joking or got it wrong or-“

“Does 8 o’clock tonight work for you?”

Eddie nods and Steve’s smile gets wider with each frantic jerk of his chin.

“It’s a date then.”

and then on their first date, eddie gets flowers for the first time. doesn’t have to deliver them, doesn’t have to give them away, no, these ones are his to keep, and he allows himself to take a deep breath for the first time, getting to enjoy the way they smell, the way he always watched people do. never once taking his eyes off steve, who watches with a smile. 🥹

[paladin--strait]

heyy i love your writing so much, i was hoping i could request comparing hand sizes with igor shesterkin. thank youu!!

goalie hands - igor shesterkin

-

it was one of those nights where sleep just wasn’t happening. the city outside was quiet for once, but i still couldn’t turn my brain off. igor and i were tangled up in his bed, sheets a mess, both of us wide awake, staring up at the ceiling.

“can’t sleep?” he asked, his voice low and soft, the familiar russian accent still there even in the dark.

“nope,” i mumbled, rolling onto my side to face him. his face was mostly shadow, but i could make out the outline of his jaw, his messy hair sticking up like it always did after a game. “you?”

“same,” he sighed, shifting a bit and pulling the covers higher. “too much…stuff going on in my head.”

i nodded. i could tell. he had that tiredness around his eyes, like he was thinking about the game earlier or something else. i didn’t push him to talk about it though. i knew when he wanted to, he would.

“hey,” i said after a minute, trying to distract myself. “random question.”

“yes, my love?” he replied with a grin in his voice.

i smile at the fondness of the little nickname before i answers, “do you think our hands are the same size?” it was a ridiculous question, but i couldn’t stop myself from asking it.

he was quiet for a second, like he wasn’t sure if i was joking or not. “our hands?” he repeated, half-laughing. “like, right now?”

“yeah, just… i don’t know. you’re a goalie. your hands have to be huge, right?” i said, raising one of my hands in the dark and kind of holding it up like i expected him to do something about it.

he laughed, turning his head to look at me. “we’re comparing hands at 3 in the morning?”

“why not?” i shrugged, a little embarrassed but still kind of amused by the whole idea. “i’m curious.”

“alright,” he said, shifting closer to me and extending his hand. his palm was massive, warm, and solid, way bigger than mine. i placed my hand in his, and it felt like a little kid’s hand getting swallowed up by his.

“whoa,” i said, honestly kind of surprised. “your hand is huge.”

he smirked. “well, i do stop pucks with it for a living.”

“must be all that goalie training...” i teased, not able to help myself. “my hand’s like…tiny in comparison.”

“it’s cute though,” he said, squeezing my hand lightly. “it’s the perfect size for me to hold.”

i could feel my face heat up a little, even though i tried to play it off. “i didn’t know you were into hands.” i joke, laughing softly.

he shrugged, laughing a little too. “i’m into whatever makes you happy.” then he paused for a second, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of my hand. “if comparing hands helps you sleep, i’ll do it.”

i smiled, that familiar flutter in my chest. it was silly, but it was like this small, perfect thing we were doing. sitting in the dark, holding hands, not really talking about anything important, just being together. sometimes that was enough.

“thanks, honey...” i whispered, my thumb running over his hand now, tracing the lines of his fingers.

“anytime.” he said with a smile, “but you’re gonna need to stop comparing my hands to yours or we’ll be up all night.”

i laughed softly, feeling the tension in my shoulders start to melt away. “fine. i’ll try. but just so you know…my hands are pretty good at holding yours, too.”

he grinned, a little chuckle escaping him. “yeah, i guess they are.”

the silence stretched between us again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was just the kind of quiet you get when you’re not trying to fill it with anything. we were both awake, but it didn’t matter. it was just us, the night, and the weird, wonderful little things that made us feel less alone in the world. and for once, that was enough.

[iridescent-petrichor]

i'm on my own in your arms tonight

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Warnings: none !

Words: 1K

Request: Hi !!! I was wondering if you could write jj maybank x touch starved reader? Like maybe she didn’t grow up in a household where affection was shown a lot especially physically so she has to get used to it because jjs very physical but he notices and promises to not be overbearing and is super comforting since he never wants to make her uncomfortable.

A/N: this idea was so cute i hope i did it justice !!

When you first met JJ Maybank, you were entirely unused to affection. He had quickly realized this when he saw the way you sat slightly away from the rest of the group. You were still fully engaged with the random conversation about what should qualify as an island sparked by some comment JJ made about everything being an island depending on how far out you zoom out, though you tucked your knees close to your chest and sat in a way that ensured you were out of the realm of anyone’s personal space.

It didn’t hinder your mood at all, you continued to laugh and joke with the group throughout the night, but JJ couldn’t help but observe the way you naturally kept yourself away from everyone else.

Similarly, you had very quickly noticed just how affectionate JJ was. You noticed it in the way he leaned on John B when he laughed at a joke, or the way he kept a hand on Pope’s shoulder when he listened to him talk, or the way he would wrap an arm around Kie while she was showing him something on her phone.

Years later, as the two of you got closer, he always tended to be around you. Often he had a hand on you, even if it was the smallest touch, and it was something you’d slowly gotten more used to.

Half the time you didn’t even realize how strong his want to be around you was, or how much he wanted to just be touching you. The rest of the group was well aware of it, however, and often gave each other looks when JJ would fiddle with the hem of your shirts when he sat next to you or when he would make sure he was sitting beside you, or even when his touch lingered when he would hand you something.

It was another quiet night at the Chateau when the group noticed it again.

JJ had collapsed next to you on the old couch, so close that you scooted away about a foot. You didn’t notice the look between Sarah and John B, nor the way Kie bit back a smile. You’d simply assumed JJ had miscalculated and moved aside to make more room for him.

He stared at you for a moment before continuing his conversation with Pope.

“I’m just sayin’ it doesn’t make any sense if you think about it!”

Pope pinched the bridge of his nose, earning a laugh from Cleo who sat beside him. “Every word you say makes me feel like my brain is melting.”

JJ rolled his eyes, leaning back into the couch to get more comfortable, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye before returning to the topic at hand.

It stayed that way for about an hour, with JJ occasionally chancing glimpses of you until Sarah sat up suddenly. You could practically see the light bulb forming above her head.

“We should do a bonfire!” She grinned, leaning forward in her seat.

No one said anything for a moment, with everyone looking at one another in silent agreement until Cleo stood decisively.

“Well, I’m down.” She said, earning a quiet laugh from Sarah who stood as well.

“Yeah, sounds fun.” Kie piped up, giving you an expectant look.

“I agree,” You nodded, grinning back at her.

“I’ll grab stuff for smores, then.” John B hopped up, making his way to the kitchen to search the cabinets.

Sarah followed him as well, grabbing a case of beer and holding it up with a wide smile before walking out the front door towards the beach.

The rest of you followed suit, with John B quickly grabbing what he had and rushing to catch up.

“How crowded do you think the beach is gonna be?” Pope asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I doubt there’ll be many people there, it’s a Tuesday night,” Kie said from in front of you, stepping carefully over a root.

You, however, missed the root in the dark, catching it on your foot and losing your balance.

“Whoa,” JJ’s arm snaked around your waist, keeping you from falling to the ground. “Careful there.”

He kept his arm around you, pulling you closer while you walked. You looked up at him, surprised, and offered him a stiff smile.

You still weren’t entirely sure of what to do in the face of affection, much less JJ’s constant use of it. That wasn’t to say you didn’t like it, it was just something you’d never grown up with, so you never learned how to react to it.

But JJ, sweet JJ, could read you like a book.

He basically had a sixth sense for knowing when you were uncomfortable and had known you long enough now that he could almost entirely tell how much affection he was able to give without overwhelming you.

Still, he wasn’t perfect.

After he got the bonfire started with Cleo’s help, he once again sat down beside you. The way he sat close was much more intentional than earlier that night, but his closeness was almost suffocating.

You felt bad even thinking that, knowing that you did want to be close to him.

And yet, you shrugged off his arm when he threw it over your shoulder, apologizing quietly.

“Hey,” He moved slightly away from you, voice soft. “It’s okay, you know.”

You looked at him, the rest of the group deep in their own conversation.

“Sorry, I’m just not used to…” You continued to apologize before JJ cut you off.

“It’s okay,” He repeated. “Make sure you let me know if I’m ever being too much, okay?”

You nodded, surprised by the genuine look in his eyes.

“Okay.” You said, smiling lightly.

“Hey lovebirds!” John B’s voice made you jump, seeing everyone else already staring at the two of you. “You guys want smores or what?”

[anyasathenaeum]

Hi! If I could request headcanons for Vash and Wolfwood (separately) noticing that a chubby y/n doesn’t eat in front of people? :D

A/N: Hiya! I can absolutely write that for you! :D Thanks for being my very first request! Hope this is what you were hoping for ~

Vash the Stampede

Vash would notice pretty quickly that you refused to eat in a group setting, or even when it was just you and one other person - he's pretty perceptive so it catches his eye early on in knowing you

At first, he figured that maybe it was just one of your quirks, but as time went on and he saw you continuing to not eat in front of others, he eventually began to be concerned

He'd be very sweet about it, though - bringing it up to you once the two of you were by yourselves and nobody else was around

"Hey, (Y/N)? I-I just noticed that you don't eat. Are you okay? Is something bothering you? Is there anything I can do?"

At first, you just brushed him off, making light of the situation and not taking it seriously.

However, as time went on, eventually, you caved and told Vash the truth, about how being chubby made you feel more self-aware of how your appearance and actions were perceived by others.

Vash didn't even blink, immediately giving you a soft smile and tugging you close to him in a very warm, gentle hug, whispering compliments to you and encouraging you.

"What you look like doesn't matter one bit, (Y/N). You've always been beautiful in my eyes!"

He would completely understand your preference of not eating in front of others, and the man would bend over backwards trying to make sure that you feel comfortable and are well-fed regardless.

Vash would really just want you to be well taken care of and he accepts you for who you are, and never fails to remind you of that fact every minute he can.

He would also make a point of distracting people during mealtimes and giving you a chance to be more comfortable or slip away if you needed to.

Overall, 110% would just try to make you feel as comfortable as possible and would accept you for who you are in your entirety without a second thought. <3

Nicholas D. Wolfwood

I feel like Wolfwood would NOT get the memo until you literally yell at him

He can be a little... dense™.

You'd be sitting around the campfire with the others, refusing to eat while the others do

Remember in Trigun Stampede the scene of Wolfwood shoving food into Meryl's face? Yeah, he'd pull that on you, too, unfortunately, until you literally yell at him to stop and that it's not funny before you got up and walked away.

Definitely confused by the situation, but despite being a bit rough around the edges, he still understands that what he did was not okay given your reaction and goes to talk to you one-to-one

"What was that about?" he'd ask you, still sorta joking and seeing if you're still upset or not

You don't answer him, prompting him to actually sit next to you, looking over at you

"You wanna tell me what's goin' on, sweetheart?"

Eventually, you'd explain that you don't like to eat in front of others and that it made you uncomfortable

When he realizes what he's done, he does feel kinda bad that he put you into an uncomfortable position and grumbles out an apology as well as an offhand compliment

"Your body may be different, doesn't mean you shouldn't eat though. There's just more of you for people to love."

Wolfwood would still definitely try to make you as comfortable as he can (within reason to himself), but his approach would be more subtle - toning down his own shenanigans and jokes, not pestering you like he used to about the topic, also distracting others and giving you a way out of uncomfortable situations.

Overall, would be dense at first but once he understands, also very supportive and adjusts his behaviour to ensure he doesn't hurt you again.