#you guys made my hell years more bearable

[sugrhigh]

RUMORS - ( c.s )

REQUESTED**

summary: you and chris have known each other for a long time, and you’ve always had an inescapable crush on him. when you all go to tara’s party and fans see them together for the first time, speculation begins to circulate, and you begin to pull away in fear that he likes her as more than a friend

warnings: angsty in the beginning, fluffy in the end :) some swearing a kiss and that’s it really

bff!chris x fem!reader

a/n: i loved this concept and i hope i brought it to life well for the anon that requested <3 my inbox is always open for u guys #kisses

@fawnchives @l9vesick @mattinside @sturnioloco @sturniolossss @cupidsword @teapartyprincess4two @princessbetsy123-blog @cookiehaos @sturnlova @junnniiieee07 @vsangel-starbies @chrissystur

doom scrolling online is like a car crash that you can’t look away from; especially when it involves your friend and your long term crush. you’ve been laying in bed scouring the internet for the past hour, pouring over comments about and tara and chris.

ever since her last party, when fans actually saw them publicly interacting for the first time, the gossip has gotten out of control. people want them together, and you hate to admit that it makes you sick to your stomach.

hell, you’d been the one to introduce them, since tara had become your friend first. but you and chris go all the way back to childhood; you were best friends with him and his brothers in your early years of school, and then you moved to another town after your dad accepted a new position.

you kept in touch through social media and occasional texts after that, until you all found yourselves in LA fresh out of high school, alone in an unfamiliar city across the country.

their youtube channel had taken off, and you’d gained a large following after you’d finally been recognized for your photography due to some big-name collabs. you were all in the same vulnerable position, and because of this your friendship with the three of them started right back up where it left off.

the rest is history. it’s been two years now, and you’ve all grown exponentially, fully adjusted to LA and the recognition, comfortable with where you are in your lives professionally and personally.

you spend nearly every week with the triplets, doing anything and everything together. they’ve made the occasional homesickness bearable, been your rock through the hard times, and supported you like no one else.

but things are a little different with you and chris. he’s your best friend, the person you want to tell everything to first. it’s always been that way, really. you had feelings for him at 13, and now at 20 years old you love him even more.

but that doesn’t mean you have to love him being shipped with every female influencer on the planet.

it’s selfish, really, to want chris to yourself, considering his occupation and the fame that comes with it. tara is a good person and an even better friend, and you shouldn’t be angry over the idea of them dating.

still, it’s been consuming your mind ever since you saw the first post about the two of them a few days ago, and you’ve been checking social media every hour since.

you’re about to read through yet another comment section when your phone buzzes, a notification appearing at the top of the screen.

chris

can you pls answer me

i don’t like this silent treatment thing

your stomach flips. he’s been texting you things like this for the past few days, since you started distancing yourself after the party.

the whole night he had acted as if he was into tara; always making conversation, asking to dance, posting her on his story. even when you were right next to him, it still felt like he was miles away.

so of course it’s been upsetting you, and you figured rather than taking it out on either of them you would just remove yourself from the situation.

it seemed like the best option in the moment, but it still sucks. you hate not talking to him, not seeing his face or feeling his arms wrap around you in a familiar hug.

another text pings, snapping you out of your spiral once more.

chris

i don’t know what’s wrong but you’re scaring me

the message makes your eyes burn, and you blink away the tears. you don’t want him worrying about you, especially when it’s your own stupid feelings getting in the way of things being normal.

you sigh, tapping out a response and staring at it, debating back and forth whether you should actually press send. but he beats you to a response, and another string of texts come through.

chris

i can see you typing

i’m coming over

y/n

no don’t do that, everything is fine

chris

i don’t believe you

and i already left my house

it’s only a five minute walk to get from his place to yours, and you know he’s too stubborn to actually turn around, no matter how hard you plead. you’ve already broken out into a nervous sweat just thinking about the confrontation.

but at this point you owe it to him and yourself to be honest. you just hope you don’t get your heart broken in the process.

y/n

fine, doors unlocked

i’m in my room

a few minutes later you hear the front door slam open and closed, just to see chris peek his head around the corner of your room moments later. you’re still curled up in bed, too scared and tired to move, so he takes the liberty of coming to you.

“hey.” he says softly as he sits down.

“hi.” you mumble, wrapping your blanket against your chest tighter.

it’s not cold, but you’re so anxious that you’re shivering. chris notices and puts a hand on your covered knee, rubbing small circles against the joint. he looks so sweet, clad in his blue fresh love hoodie with his hair all curly from showering.

“what’s up? i haven’t heard from you all week, and nick was about ready to call the cops.” he tries to joke with a small grin.

you can’t bring yourself to match his energy, and your face remains grave as you attempt to swallow the lump in your throat.

“i’m alright, just tired.”

his face falls, and a slight frown replaces his smile. you know he’s not believing any of it for a second, and you’ve never been a very convincing liar.

“don’t do that, you’re obviously not alright. and i’m not trying to be pushy or anything, but i feel like you’re shutting me out.” chris replies quietly.

you shift a little bit so you can sit up properly, back resting against the headboard as you gaze at him. his hand remains on your thigh, a source of comfort while you try to pick your words wisely.

“i’m not trying to push you away, chris. i just…wanted to give you space.” you continue to dance around the truth.

he looks even more confused, eyebrows furrowed like you’re speaking another language. “that’s nice and all, but i don’t want it.”

“well maybe i do.” you shrug.

you’re lying through your teeth, but chris’s eyes go wide regardless. you’ve shocked him into silence, which rarely ever happens. he’s just staring at you, the gears in his mind turning as he tries to figure out what could possibly be wrong.

“are you serious? did i do something that i don’t know about?” chris asks, clearly exasperated.

he removes his hand from your leg, dropping it back in his lap. the small act alone makes your heart sink, and you feel the question crawling its way out of your mouth before you can help it.

“do you like tara?”

it hangs in the air, and you’ve stumped him once again. chris shakes his head, clearing his throat while his face reddens slightly.

“i can’t believe you’re even asking me that.” he sounds genuinely astonished.

“what? why?” it’s your turn to be baffled.

“because i feel like all i ever do is flirt with you. i mean seriously, it’s embarrassing for me at this point.” chris reaches to scratch the back of his neck sheepishly.

your jaw drops, which makes you feel silly. throughout this whole relationship you felt like you were the one putting the moves on him, doing too much. you’d never once stopped to think about all of the little comments he would make.

“i, uh, guess i didn’t pick up on that.” you manage to reply.

you immediately wish you hadn’t, that you just kept your mouth shut. but he smiles widely at you, chuckling lightly.

“no shit.”

this makes you laugh too, and it feels good to experience at least a brief moment of normality between the two of you. things have felt tense for so long that you’d almost forgotten why you love being around chris in the first place.

you wait to calm down a bit before you decide to finally lay it all on the table. “i like you a lot, chris. and i don’t want to mess up the dynamic we have, because you mean the world to me. but i’d be lying to myself if i said i didn’t want to be with you.”

he’s still grinning, though you can tell he’s gone a little shy now hearing you admit your feelings. this moment is all he dreamed about for so long, and now it’s finally happening in a realm outside of his own brain.

“i want that too, and i’m a dumbass for taking this long to say it. so no, i’m not interested in tara like that. it’s always been you.” chris confesses, reaching to interlock your fingers.

you’ve held hands before on many occasions, but it’s different now in the best way. butterflies erupt in your stomach as he leans in, and you can smell the fading hints of minty body wash on his skin.

you tilt your head so your mouths finally meet, soft and slow as you both finally enjoy the kiss you’ve been yearning for for so long. he tastes sugary, like the lollipops he’s always got between his teeth, and you’re already addicted.

chris pulls away a minute later, his lips reddened and glistening from the contact. you giggle slightly from the unfamiliarity of the situation, glancing down at your linked hands.

“your lips are so soft.” he praises, still awestruck that he finally got to kiss the girl he’s loved since he was a preteen.

“take a girl out to dinner first, jeez.” you joke playfully.

chris rolls his eyes, but he smiles nonetheless. “i think i will, actually. you got any plans tomorrow?”

you tap your chin with your free hand like you’re contemplating your schedule. “i can probably squeeze you in.”

“you better. everyone else can get in line.”

[notiddygothgf]

1. Arrival in Tokyo

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ Captain? Should I be calling you sir? ❞ ❝ Only if you want to. ❞

★ c.w.: aki being sexy a f (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: CHAPTER ONE IS UP AND RUNNINGGGGGG!! im so excited bc ive been sitting on this fanfic all fking summer like when i tell u i havent been able to focus on anything else. i have not known peace. ANYWAY im trying smth new w this story bc it was supposed to be a oneshot but uh... now its at 150 pages on google docs so erm... anyway! updates should flow quixker now that i have 90% of it written!! comment and let me know all of ur thoughts everywhere omg i love reading ur remarks bc u guys r so funny on my other ffs. ENJOY POOKIES! i love yall!!

★ w.c.; 4.3k

shameless ; chapter index

"SO YOU'RE LEAVING ME because the Tokyo division needs backup?" 

"I'm not leaving you," You sighed, though a playful lilt and a smirk followed your sarcastic remark. You and your husband were discussing work-related matters over a sushi dinner – your favorite. Perks of being married to your work partner. "I'm being summoned. I won't be long. Promise."

Your husband frowned, brows knitting together. His brown hair was tied back into a bun, baby hairs licking at his forehead, his cheeks. Tanimoto Yoshiro was a man of many virtues, but patience was not one of them. With a sigh, he began to toy with his salmon roll, prodding it with the end of his wooden chopsticks. "One whole week without that sexy ass of yours... What will I do?"

Your left eye twitched – slightly, hardly noticeable by the naked eye. You, for one, wouldn't miss the sex. It was, for lack of a better word... unfulfilling. It would get better over the years, you were sure of it. The two of you had only had the last few years to practice, after all. You wanted to wait until marriage (With him. You were no virgin by any stretch of the word.).

It was unfair of you to take your sexual frustrations out on him. It had been a tiring week for the both of you, is all. You barely had time for sit down meals like this anymore – whatever hanky-panky the two of you ever did indulge in these days was rushed, messy, and often... short lived.

Anyway, needless to say... You would be fine. It was you and your rabbit toy against the world, anyway.

"You'll be fine," You smiled. You loved him. He loved you. He was a great husband, and he took care of you. You had no reason to complain. "I'll be back before you know it." .

The Japanese countryside was a blur, rushing past the window of your train like pictures, like a movie. You hadn't noticed the train slow to a stop, in fact, until you heard the doors open. Popping your head up over the seat, you observed the train station. Which stop is this? People began filtering in from both sides, eager to find a seat before the train took off.

A shrill cry of your name roused you from your thoughts. 

You whipped your head around. A familiar-looking woman with black hair and an eyepatch was waving you down across the aisle. She was wearing a Public Safety suit and slacks. Himeno.

A smile crawled over your lips before you knew it. "Himeno?" You asked, a teasing lilt in your tone. "Is that you?"

Without asking if anyone else was sitting there, she took a seat in the one across from you. She leaned forward, perching her chin up on her hand. "Never thought I'd see you again. How the hell are 'ya?"

You and Himeno went way back. She had been in the same division as you back when the two of you were teens. She was the first person in Public Safety who had ever actually welcomed you to the division and the last person to say goodbye to you. You parted ways before ever being able to exchange information but, for what it was worth, she had made those gruesome, tedious missions more bearable. 

"I've been good!" You grinned. "I've been in the Kyoto sector with my partner. I truly did plan on coming back, but one thing led to another, and now..." You trailed off, waving your hands around like you were trying to find the right words. "Well, I'm married to him."

The train creaked and groaned before it began to move again. 

"So I've heard," Himeno licked her lips. She sat back in her chair, producing a carton of cigarettes – the kind she always used to smoke when the two of you were on missions together. "You mind if I smoke?"

No, but the conductor might. "Of course not," You answered. "How about you? How have you been?"

She sighed. "Been better, honestly. Devil activity's been crazy recently," Fishing a lighter out of her suit pocket, she sparked up. The end of her cigarette sizzled and smoked between her slim fingers. Holding it up to her lips, she muttered, "Just doing what I can to stay alive. What brings you back to the city?"

"My presence has been requested by the higher-ups," You shrugged. The scent of nicotine and smoke filled the cabin. It was gross but, frankly, familiar. "My husband wasn't too happy that he didn't get invited, so this better be worth it."

"I see," Himeno hummed, breathing out a puff of smoke to the side. She kept on looking out of the window after that, at the train station that was now far behind the train. "You're leaving your partner and I'm returning to mine."

"You're married?" You asked.

"God, no," She chuckled softly, pulling another hit from her cancer stick. "Wouldn't mind being with my assigned partner, though. He's a fine piece of ass."

It seemed like you couldn't help the way you burst into laughter at her crude remark. She hasn't changed one bit. "Is he cute?"

"Cute?" She repeated the word like it was a foreign object in her mouth. Her voice was muffled by the cloud of smoke that flowed out from between her lips. "He's drop-dead gorgeous," She took another slow, calculated hit. "Enough about me, though, how's the married life going for you?"

Could be better. You feigned a warm smile at the mention of your husband. "Good. Yeah, it's good."

Good was a bit of an overstatement. .

You and Himeno spent the rest of the train ride catching up. There was talk about marriage, sex, old coworkers, and new ones. It felt kind of good to be back – to be able to talk to someone who shared the same history as you. You would almost say that you missed it.

By the time the announced its next stop at the Tokyo station, you hadn't even realized how quickly the trip had gone by. You could thank your talkative companion for that. As the train finally eased to a stop, you turned to Himeno with a smile. 

"I need to grab my bags," you said, rising from your seat and straightening your clothes.

Himeno nodded, her smile warm but tinged with a hint of sadness. "Okay. Take care of yourself!"

Navigating the narrow aisle, you headed toward the luggage compartment. As you reached up to grab your suitcase, you collided with someone. Startled, you looked up to find yourself face-to-face with a man who immediately captured your attention. He was tall, easily over six feet, with broad shoulders and a powerful build that spoke of both strength and discipline. His dark hair was tied back in a neat topknot, accentuating his sharp, angular features. But it was his eyes that held you—their piercing blue depths seemed to look straight through you, filled with a seriousness that made you catch your breath.

"Sorry—" he began, his voice a deep, resonant baritone that vibrated through the narrow space.

For a moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. The closeness of his body, the scent of his cologne—clean and subtly spiced, lingering just faintly on the collar of his suit jacket—the intense focus of his gaze; all of it created a bubble of tension that neither of you could ignore. You could see the flicker of surprise in his eyes, a momentary lapse in his serious demeanor, as if he too had been caught off guard.

Both of you paused. His gaze flickered down to your uniform for just a heartbeat before he quickly looked away, regaining his composure. Without another word, you continued in opposite directions, the silent exchange leaving you... well, a little breathless to say the least.

Stop it. You're a married woman. Surely, you would know how to control your impulses after being away from your husband for only a day.

Reaching up, you pulled your suitcase from the overhead compartment, the weight of it a familiar comfort. Setting it down on the ground with a soft thud, you turned back to your seat, only to find the handsome man still standing there, now engaged in conversation with Himeno. He was so tall that he had to actually lean over a little bit to fit into the cabin.

Fuck me. You thought. Wait, no, don't fuck me.

"Is this your partner, Himeno?" you asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Yes, I found him!" Himeno responded with a wide grin. "Captain Hayakawa, this is an old friend of mine," she said, going on to introduce you by name.

"Hello," he greeted, extending his hand. The deep, velvety timbre of his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

"Captain? Should I be calling you 'sir'?" you teased lightly, shaking his hand – and his grip was firm and warm.

"Only if you want to," he replied, "Hayakawa is fine."

Only if you want to.

Get your fucking head out of the gutter.

Your heart skipped a beat as you found yourself momentarily lost in his gaze. His eyes were a captivating shade of blue, intense and unwavering. The handshake lingered a moment too long. You could feel the strength and warmth of his hand – it was far larger than yours, and had calluses at the tip of the palm.

Despite his serious demeanor, there was a flicker of something in his eyes, a hint of interest that he seemed determined to keep under control. Reluctantly, you pulled your hand away, feeling the lingering warmth of his touch. 

His gaze remained locked on yours for a moment longer, a silent acknowledgment of whatever the fuck had just happened.

Himeno cleared her throat, breaking the spell. "Well, let me give you a big hug, dearest."

You embraced her fondly, the familiarity of her touch grounding you. 

"Here, give me your number," Himeno said as she pulled back. She flipped her phone open. "Let's keep in touch."

With a smile, you told her your phone number. 

She snapped her phone shut after she had finished typing it in. "Okay! Hopefully, I'll get to see you around."

"Yes, of course! We'll be in touch," You agreed. You bowed your head to her, then to her partner. "Hayakawa."

He nodded back. You dismissed yourself after that, turning on your heel and practically scrambling to get out of that tiny train cabin. Still, you couldn't help but glance back at Captain Hayakawa. His eyes met yours again for a brief, fleeting moment before you turned away, heart racing with something you hadn't felt in a long time.

You didn't want to stick around and find out what it was. The weight of your wedding ring around your finger was a reminder of that much. .

You hadn't been in Public Safety's Tokyo headquarters in years. It was bigger than you remembered it being. The worst part? All the halls looked the exact same. It took you about thirty minutes to find the office in which you were currently standing.

A woman who you'd been dreading seeing the whole way over there was perched on a leather seat in front of you, arms folded over the desk, pink hair braided the same way it always had been, feline eyes flitting over your body. It made you feel small – like prey trapped in a predator's den.

"How was your trip over here?" Makima asked. Her voice was smooth, uniform – calculated, just like everything else she did. 

"It was pleasant," You answered. "I came as soon as I could."

"We appreciate that," Makima said, a hint of something sinister in her smile.

She stepped out from behind her desk, pacing slowly around the room. "I called you here because we've recently suffered a great deal of casualties," she explained, her tone measured and controlled. "I'm worried we won't have the manpower to deal with all the sudden appearances of gun-devil pieces."

"I understand. Am I being formally stationed?" you replied, trying to maintain your composure.

"Not that I know of, no," she responded, her eyes narrowing slightly. "For now, we need backup on a particular mission involving a school in the area. There have been reports of peculiar activity there, and I want to send one of my teams to investigate. I haven't decided whether you'll be in the field or here tying up some loose ends—we recently lost one of our best workers, and we're very far behind as a result. I'll have a certain answer for you within the next few days."

"A few... days?"

"Yes, is that a problem?"

"No, not at all, no. I just—" you sighed, feeling the weight of uncertainty. "Yeah, okay, that sounds good."

"You've also been booked a hotel suite nearby. Your stay will be provided at no cost to you," she continued, her tone unwavering. "I'll reach out to you as soon as I have more details. Hang tight until then."

With a tight-lipped smile, you nodded. "Thank you, Miss Makima. Am I dismissed?"

"Yes, I'll have one of our drivers take you to your room so you can drop off your luggage," she said, her smile not reaching her eyes. "Where did you leave it?"

"I left it in the break room," you said.

"Very well. I'll have someone collect it," she replied, her eyes closing briefly as she smiled. "Get home safely."

With that, you turned and left the office, the tension of the encounter still lingering in the back of your mind. There was just something about that damn lady that never failed to send a shiver up your spine. You sighed, glancing down at the old floorboards, at your shoes.

The reality of the situation began to sink in. 

You had traveled all this way, navigating the maze of identical halls and sterile rooms, only to be told you had to wait. The thought gnawed at you— That sounds about right from her, you mused. It was typical of Makima, always keeping you in the dark, always one step ahead, holding the reins tightly.

The cool, clinical atmosphere of the headquarters only heightened your sense of displacement. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a harsh, unforgiving glow, making everything look stark and unwelcoming.

Lost in your thoughts, you heard a series of footsteps echoing down the hall, followed by hushed voices. The sound grew closer, and you recognized the voice immediately—it was the young lieutenant captain again, the man you had bumped into earlier.

You glanced up, and there he was, standing just a few feet away. He was a striking figure, his presence suffocating – commanding and enigmatic. He had a sharp jaw, chiseled and defined, the kind that could cut paper. His eyes, a moody blue, held a penetrating gaze, one that seemed to see right through you, making you feel as though you were laid completely bare before him.

His brow was knit slightly in deep thought. There was a slight furrow at the bridge of his nose. The tufts of inky black hair that framed his features only added to the boyish charm of his face. 

As he spoke to the other Public Safety worker beside him, his hands moved with purposeful grace.

Your eyes were drawn to him despite yourself, unable to escape the force of his presence. 

His gaze caught yours briefly, and in that fleeting moment, you felt an almost tangible tension in the air. It was as if time had stopped for a heartbeat, the corridor seeming to stretch and contract around the two of you.

The connection between your eyes was like a magnet, pulling you in despite your efforts to look away. The faintest flutter in your chest was enough to have you gripping the collar of your shirt.

He blinked first, his eyes breaking away from yours as he turned back to his companion. The conversation resumed, but the air seemed thicker now, charged with the residual energy of your brief encounter. 

"We need to re-evaluate our strategies for dealing with the increased devil activity," he said, his words carefully chosen. "The losses have been significant, and our resources are stretched thin."

You turned and walked in the opposite direction, the soft hum of the fluorescent lights overhead seeming to amplify the distance you were putting between yourself and him.

As you moved down the corridor, you couldn't shake the feeling that his eyes were still on you, as if the weight of his gaze lingered even after you had turned away.  .

You had just stepped out of the shower, the steam still clinging to the room and curling around the bathroom mirror in hazy swirls. The cool, clean air of the hotel suite met you as you emerged, a refreshing contrast to the stifling atmosphere of the Public Safety headquarters.

You took a moment to let the chill of the air sink into your skin, feeling the pleasant coolness against your damp hair and freshly washed face. You dried yourself off, the soft towel enveloping you in its warmth, and slipped into a comfortable set of loungewear—simple, dark gray sweatpants and a loose-fitting, white t-shirt.

You walked over to the full-sized bed, the crisp white sheets and plush pillows arranged neatly. You flopped down onto it, letting out a relieved sigh as you sank into the softness of the mattress.

Reaching for your phone from the nightstand, you dialed your husband's number. As the call connected, you propped yourself up on one elbow and stared at the ceiling, trying to shake off the exhaustion of the day.

When he answered, his voice was calmingly familiar, cutting through the distance between you with a comforting ease. "Hey. How's everything going?"

"It's been a day," you said with a soft chuckle. "I finally got here, but of course, they've got me waiting for more details. Typical."

"Sounds about right," he said, his voice tinged with a longing that you could almost touch through the phone, "I miss you."

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to push away the brief flash of memories that drifted through your mind—blue eyes and raven hair, a fleeting image that made your heart skip a beat. An image of soft lips wrapped around the syllables, 'Only if you want to.'

You shook your head gently, trying to dispel the image from your thoughts. "I miss you too," you said, trying to keep your tone light and steady.

You heard the faint sound of his smile through the phone, a soft, reassuring sound. You had never been so happy to hear his voice. "How's the hotel?"

"It's nice," you said, shifting your position on the bed to get more comfortable. "Pretty standard, but it's got a good view of the city."

"I can think of one view I'd really like to see right now," he teased gently. 

Just as you were about to reply, your phone started ringing again. You glanced at the screen and saw the name of your old coworker. 

"Hold on, I'm getting a call," you said, your fingers hovering over the screen. 

"Ugh, okay," he said. "Bye."

"Bye," you replied, a smile tugging at your lips as you ended the call.

You took a deep breath before picking up. "Hello?"

"Heya, Hot stuff. What you up to?" Himeno drawled into the receiver.

"Just got out the shower," You answered. "Why? Is something up?"

"Nah. Well, yeah," She giggled. "Miss Makima's taking us out for drinks to celebrate the success of our last mission tomorrow. She rented out this whole space for us. You coming?"

You chuckled quietly, carding a hand through your damp hair. "I always feel dull at parties."

"You? Dull?" Came Himeno's retort. "This really the same person who used to take body shots off complete strangers back in the day?"

The mere mention of your past self had you laughing all over again. "Times change."

"Married life made you soft?" 

You winced. Sure, perhaps a somewhat-boring life in the countryside with your husband had made you a little soft. But there was something in the way she said it – something that made you tick. You were happy being a married woman. You had been happy since the two of you had eloped at 21.

You were happy, dammit. You just wished it was a little easier to convince yourself of that.

"I don't know..." You trailed off. "I won't be any fun."

"Noooooo... You have to come!" Himeno groaned. You could hear her pacing around in the background. "DENJI!" She called to god knows who. "Back me up here!"

The phone was handed over to someone else – a young-sounding boy. "I'm not gonna force someone to go to a stupid party."

"Tell her to come!" Could be heard very faintly in the background.

"Wait. She's a 'she'?"

"Not just any 'she', thats–"

"You should definitely come tonight," The boy decided. "Name's Denji, by the way."

"Hi, Denji," You sighed. "Could you hand the phone back to Himeno for just a moment?"

"Sure," He answered. "Bye, gorgeous. See you there."

Gorgeous. He hasn't even seen me and he's calling me gorgeous. You had to have been in the twilight zone.

"So, you're coming, right?" Himeno's voice chirped over the line.

"I don't know," You answered (again). "Who's going?"

"Aki's coming. Remember him? Partner? Total hottie?" She replied. 

Total hottie was an understatement. Again, the image of his pretty face flashed through your mind. You squashed the mere thought of it – like an incessant bug. "Yes, we met."

"I'm gonna get a smooch out of him by the end of the night," She giggled. "You can bet on that."

People came and went. Seasons changed. Himeno, however, did not. She was just as crude as you had always remembered her being.

"Just a kiss?" You teased.

"Maybe. Maybe more," She teased right back. "Can you believe he doesn't have a girlfriend? He's 20! That's gotta mean something."

He's five years younger than me... You picked mindlessly at your nails. "Something like...?"

"Dunno. Am I wrong for thinking he's holding out for me?" 

"Oh, to be young and naive again," You sighed. "I was engaged at his age," You trailed off, words hanging in the air for a moment after they had slipped past your lips.

Awkward. Did that slip out?

You leaned back against the headboard, feeling the cool pillows against your back while your mind drifted to the past. You had been so young when you'd gotten married, looking back. You loved him, you truly did. Sure, you had your issues, but didn't every married couple?

The two of you were happy. Still, a pang of jealousy surfaced when you heard Himeno speak so freely about her independence, her sexual prowess. In a way, you felt as though you had been deprived of that freedom far too early.

Your fingers traced the edge of your phone, your gaze drifting as memories flooded your mind. Himeno's laughter on the other end of the line seemed distant, a reminder of a simpler time, unburdened by the weight of responsibilities and commitments.

You were happy... weren't you?

"Hey, you still there?" Himeno's voice pulled you back to the present, her tone tinged with concern.

"Yeah, sorry," you replied, shaking off the melancholy that had crept into your thoughts. "Just got lost in my head for a moment."

"Don't we all," she sighed, her voice softening. "Look, just come down tomorrow. It'll be fun. We can catch up, have a few drinks, and maybe you can even be my wingman for the night."

You chuckled, the sound more genuine this time. "Alright, fine. I'll come. But no promises about playing matchmaker."

"Yay! It's at five," Himeno's excitement was palpable, and it was contagious. "I'll see you then. Hopefully, you can loosen up a little bit. Relive the good days."

"Yeah, maybe," you said, a small, half-assed smile playing on your lips. "See you then."

You ended the call and set your phone to the side. 

Loosen up a little, You thought. Yeah, you could definitely stand to do that.

a/n: shortie but a goodie! i already have most of the story written (so this one doesnt wind up like my 25,000 other unfinished projects), and this was the only way i could think to cut this chapter off hehe. ANYWAYYYY i hope yall enjoyed and are prepared for the TENSION AND SPICEEEE. omg its so tasty i cant wait. stay tuned! its gonna be so amazing. please comment and whatever to let me know your thoughts, wants and desires for this story! or just smth fun. i love reading yalls comments hehe comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found it on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

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[dcangel]

hi hi! i saw that u were asking for reqs and prompt 29 rlly had me thinking… imagine you’ve been there for 2 years and are the only girl, and you don’t socialize much, you do your part and keep to yourself so no one knows much abt you. but when thomas shows up, he continues to bug you with questions/bother you including why ur the only girl there. there’s a lot of tension and one night he wonders off in the woods he finds you and one thing leads to another and it happens..!

AHH okay this is sending me to hell bc my mind is going feral just thinking about it and I literally am so excited to write this one. And thank you so much for requesting one <333 (this is my first time writing smut so bear with me)

Idk how to tag these correctly bc I’ve never posted anything but if I’m wrong just correct me: p in v, slight fingering, praising, degrading, dirty talk, mentions of edging, mentions of getting caught, choking kink, slight size kink, slight/moderate pain kink, oral sex!f receiving, a few uses of y/n, nicknames, 2nd person pov. Majorly unedited and not proofread (grammarly told me there were 149 errors but it’s 2:24 in the morning so grammarly can kindly fuck off. hopefully this is bearable to read.)

8238 words (what thee actual fuck)

29– Thomas

“Don’t muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I’m fucking you.”

The last few days were… something else. Like clockwork every month, another greenie arrived, but to you that just meant another person bugging the shit out of you until they got over it. What were you supposed to tell them? That you just felt like coming up into the maze and trapping yourself here for two years just because you were bored? Every single greenie, without fail, always pestered you like a small gnat swirling around your ear each day; “why are you the only girl? Why are you here? Is it hard being the only girl?” And of course the alarmingly obviously questions that crossed every new shank’s mind, but only few braved to ask.

You mostly managed to steer clear of the lewd obscenities, letting the few friends you made take care of it for you since it got to be an irritable subject for you very quickly. But, unfortunately, there were some that wanted to ask the girl herself. Some that didn’t even know your name, yet still approached you with a supercilious guise thinking that it would somehow win you over. Each time it made you wonder what they put in these new greenies before sending them up; they just kept getting worse and worse.

Majority of the gladers knew your name, but then again how could they not? Some knew it but just decided to call you whatever you wanted; as if you being a girl made you less human and more of an object. Those were the boys that could only dream of touching a girl, never mind even being able to hookup with one.

You were surprised by the amount of people that actually treated you as equal, even though it was the bare fucking minimum. Sometimes you found it ironic how Chuck—the youngest glader here—didn’t even think twice about your humanity status when half the so-called “men” in this place treated you like scut. The boy having stated many times that “you’re a human too, just like the rest of us. We each play our part and at the end of the day; work is work. It doesn’t matter how old you are or if you’re a guy or a girl.” You think one of the reasons you were such good friends with the boy was because he could easily relate to your struggles; him being the youngest glader and always treated like a baby who couldn’t comprehend the simplest things, and you being the only girl who’s treated like shit because apparently women can’t possibly be able to do the same things as men. You were both deeply misunderstood, and that served as a foundation for one of your closest relationships.

Of course the leader, Alby, had always said the same; you were to be treated as equal. He’d even brought up the fact that it was dispiriting that the matter was even a question at all. Some days were worse than others, only granting you the energy to will yourself out of the small hut Gally and few others helped you build, at the last possible second and skipping breakfast as you trudged your way over to the gardens, taking your place by Newt. From there, maybe you’d have an occasional conversation about the dirt that constantly flung into your eyes, automatically irritating both your sight and your mood, or maybe about how brutally the blazing sun treated your reddening shoulders and face.

But on those days—the bad ones—you kept silent, doing what you were told when you were told, taking part in the roles that made the glade work. Maybe you’d join the rest of the glade for supper, sitting with the very few people you called ‘friends’ but at the end of the table, hoping to avoid conversation that inevitably reeled you in. More often than not, bad days usually warranted you to take the meal to your hut after a quick ‘thanks’ to Frypan, then making the isolated trip to the comforting confines of your own space.

You tried keeping to yourself, afraid to get too close with anyone that wasn’t Chuck or Newt, but of course your name was brought up quite often. It never made sense, though; you rarely interacted with anyone, even the people you exchanged words with on occasion, not much was known about you. You even tried to avoid being seen as often as possible in hopes that your absence would somehow make the gladers forget about your existence.

Yet every month when a new greenie was sent up, terrified and questioning their entire existence, it also started a new uproar around your name. So with Thomas, it was no different. Well, almost no different.

After he showed up, he wasn’t subtle with his intentions like most were—always asking anyone he could about anything that might make you more 3-dimensional in his eyes. So when he saw you talking to Chuck and ruffling the young boy’s hair, he used their already-forming bond to his advantage.

“Hey, Chuck, who was that?” He pretended to be oblivious as if he hadn’t been staring at you all day every day, the way your hair was always tied back in a single low braid, how the small strands that were too short slipped from the crossed-pattern and framed your face, how your sun-kissed nose scrunched whenever some minor inconvenience passed your way or the way your head tilted ever-so-slightly as a way to show your confusion.

He was well aware that this most certainly happened with every new arrival; the pestering questions, the intrusive thoughts, yet he was infatuated with wanting to know absolutely everything he could.

“Who? Her?” Chuck followed the older boy’s gaze, quickly losing interest once he saw where it led.

Thomas’s gaze, however, didn’t falter. He couldn’t decide what part of you to focus on. Maybe the way you effortlessly carried buckets and buckets of whatever the hell was needed for gardening, but it looked heavy enough to make him stare in awe. He was shameless. “Yes her. Who is she?”

“A person.” Chuck answered, being frustratingly vague.

Thomas finally pulled his brown eyes from you, landing them on the smaller boy beside him. “What’s her name?”

“Why does it matter?” The young boy was all too familiar with the questions of each newbie, most greenies coming to Chuck for the same thing each month that became almost a routine to give out as little information as possible to protect his friend.

Thomas sighed, mentally rolling his eyes. “Because I wanna’ know.” He answered bluntly.

“You wouldn’t care what that guy’s name is,” Chuck pointed to a builder named Dan. “So why do you care what her name is?”

The greenie squinted his eyes, jaw clenched in slight irritation, the veins on his neck becoming more prominent than before. “Because I just want to know?”

“Y/N, her name is Y/N. There.” Chuck’s bitter tone was definitely a eye-opener, the boy usually sweet and happy to make new friends.

“Thanks.” Thomas managed to get a small thumbs up in return as Chuck walked further away, obviously done with their conversation.

. . .

The next few days left Thomas’s curiosity at a higher peak, even worse than when he first got here—before he knew about the girl. Luckily Chuck had told you each time the greenie asked another question, and you couldn’t express how grateful you were for the young boy since he never answered them.

However, despite Chuck’s anguished attempts at telling Thomas to leave you alone, the greenie pursued his interests in getting to know you more, although it was nearly inevitable that this would happen.

On this particular day, though, he couldn’t seem to find you. Much to his dismay, you were in the Deadheads, sitting by the small brook that always seemed to flow despite the enclosed glade. It was night, the sun long gone although the heat never seemed to leave. You liked the Deadheads, specifically the brook. It was quiet, nothing but the sounds of water trickling over small rocks and folding in on itself, and maybe the occasional leaf falling to the forest floor. The peaceful sounds were a drastic difference to the clanking of shovels on rocks that seemed to peeve each gardener, or tools hammering wood that echoed across the entire open glade.

It was rare, but sometimes you’d accidentally fall asleep in the woods due to the calming nature, serving for an aching back and sore neck that shot pain thorough your whole body when you craned it the wrong way. It would’ve been one of those nights, except the sounds of leaves crunching and twigs snapping under someone’s foot brought you back from your half-asleep state. You sat up against the tree, your legs crossing as you looked around. The only people who knew you came out here were sure to be asleep by now, Chuck always falling asleep the second the second he laid down on his hammock, and Newt knowing you didn’t like to be bothered out here.

You thought back to when Ben had been stung and was chasing Thomas through the Deadheads, and you thought the same was about to happen to you. Grabbing a small stick by your side— that would probably snap if any pressure were applied— you stood up and looked around the dark forest. The plush foliage provided little to no light, which left your eyes desperately trying to adjust to the darkness as quickly as possible.

You held the stick out in front of you and slowly backed up, occasionally spinning around to check behind you, the stick swinging through the air like it was wielded by a maniac.

The lack of light confused your senses, and somehow you didn’t you didn’t hear the cracking and snapping of leave and twigs, or feet the heat behind you getting closer and closer until your back slammed into something that scared you so bad you almost yelped as you whipped around to threaten whoever it was with the flimsy stick that almost snapped when you turned. You were greeted with an unfamiliar face, one that wasn’t just another in the sixty something faces in the glade that you had yet to learn the name of. It was a new one.

“Shit— sorry.” He muttered quickly, large, outstretched hands already on your shoulders to steady you.

You back up slightly, hoping his grip would fall off, and it did. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The boy automatically took to fiddling with his fingers, a nervous habit you guessed. “I, uh… I was looking for you, actually. Chuck told me you might be out here.”

You squinted your eyes slightly, not believing him since Chuck knew better than to tell a random greenie where you’d most likely be during your free time. “Did he?”

The greenie struggled to come up with an excuse, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the ground.

“Or did you just watch me come out here earlier with the plans of following me, hoping I’d still be here after you were done with your job?” You added with a raised brow, a clear annoyed tone evident in your voice.

“Wel— No that’s not— I mean… well, you’re probably used to the newbies bothering you—”

“Damn right I am. And I don’t expect you to be any different, so unless you have anything important to say, then I’m just gonna leave.” You got straight to the point, not caring to sugarcoat or be nice to him since you’d tried that before with other greenies, and it usually didn’t turn out well. You dropped your stick and started to turn away from him when you heard his footsteps following you again, his voice following soon after.

“Well, no, but I just wanted to talk to you. I don’t know you v—”

“So let’s keep it that way, yeah?” You said, sounding as if you were talking to a child.

He clenched and unclenched his fist, a small habit of his. “Could you just stop cutting me off?”

“Why should I?” You said, brown raised in annoyance as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one leg.

“Because I fucking asked? It shouldn’t be that hard to be nice to someone.”

You scoffed, his attitude impressing you since it almost matched yours perfectly. You eyed him before opening your mouth to speak. “You’re right, it shouldn’t be. So why’re you making it so difficult then?” You asked, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, your head tilted coyly.

He let out a quick sigh, jaw clenching in irritation. “Because, all I did was try and talk to you and you’re being a bitch about it.”

Your head jerked back slightly, your eyebrows automatically raised with a taunting smile of disbelief creeping up. “You just can’t help it with the foul language can you?” You said with a laugh, one that seemed to get on his nerves even more. It was almost impressive how irritable he was. “Maybe you should try talking to directly instead of bugging my friends—especially Chuck— about me. Y’know, like a conversation or something? Maybe start off with a small introduction like your name or something a little less hostile.”

“Fine, I’m—”

“I know who you are.” It wasn’t intentional but you realized that you had cut him off again. But instead of apologizing, you almost wanted to see how pissed he could get before stomping off.

He was definitely contemplating it, almost losing interest since your attitude made him want to smash his head against a rock, but his pure stubbornness was what kept him standing there. “Again with the cutting me off! Is that all you ever do? ‘S that why you don’t have any friends.”

Being the only girl in a glade full of boys made this seem like nothing compared what else you’ve heard, so his little insults and slight temper tantrum did nothing. “Well you said you wanted to talk to me, and I’m assuming you wanted to get to know me more since all you ever do is bother Chuck.” You said with a shrug. “Come on, you can do better than that, I know you can.”

Something about your tone, the way it was taunting him, teasing him in a way that he couldn’t tell if he should hate you or want to slam you against a tree and— he shook his head, seemingly getting rid of whatever was going through his mind. “Why, you want me to insult you? Treat you like a piece of shit like everyone else does?”

You didn’t respond. Rather, you just stood there, not bothering to move as he subtly took a few slow steps toward you.

“Or maybe it’s something else?” He said, head tilting in a certain way that allowed the small streaks of moonlight peering through the spaces above that weren’t covered by trees to illuminate the beginnings of smug look on his freckled face.

Of course you knew what he looked like, he was a gardener the first few days so you had the displeasure of working near him, but something about him being up close and the way the shadowy brightness of the moon cast a perfect gleam allowed you to really notice his features. You had to admit, he wasn’t a bad looking guy; short brown hair, a perfect nose that could make anyone jealous, pale skin littered with moles and freckles that didn’t seem to be on just his face, golden-brown eyes that looked darker than in the daylight, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the tree coverage or some other reason…

“I bet it’s something else, isn’t it?” His voice was what snapped you from your thoughts, your eyes focusing back in on his darkening gaze.

“Huh?” You said, your eyes practically in slits at this point. You couldn’t tell if your question was actually a question, or if it was because you’d already forgotten what he asked before.

He took a step closer, yet he wasn’t actually that close. It was simply the darkness of the Deadheads and the way your other senses tried to account for your poor vision that made it seem like he was towering over you.

Or maybe he was.

“I said, are you just always a bitch like this, or do you do it because you like the way people respond. The way they get irritated and go off on you or treat you like shit all for you to complain about it afterwards.” You almost couldn’t believe his words. But what was less believable was the feeling that resonated in the pit of your stomach. One that had you thinking things you shouldn’t be.

“What? What the hell is wrong with you?” You spat out, trying to act offended.

His smirk grew, telling you that you reacted exactly how he expected. “You didn’t answer my question.” He took another step forward.

“I don’t have to.” You stepped back.

He noticed your slight step back, he also noticed the tree behind you—he same one you’d almost fallen asleep against earlier—getting closer each time. “I think it’s only fair that you do, so, go ahead. Answer it.”

Now, there were two ways you could’ve answered this. Which one did you choose? The one you knew would get the better reaction, of course. “Make me.”

One step later, you were already back up against the tree, seemingly nowhere to go (you could easily step to the side), and Thomas right in front of you, head tilted downwards to look at you because of the height difference. “I don’t think you really want me to. You’re just saying that.”

“Oh yeah? Try me.” You whispered lazily, a small gleam in your eyes as you looked up at him.

He brown ones bored into yours, an almost-mischievous glint behind them. He leaned down, his mouth inches from your ear, his hand against the tree on the other side of your head. “Maybe I will.”

You couldn’t help the way your knees felt weak, something about his voice; the raspiness embedded in his low, deep tone. “Maybe you should.” You breathed out, watching him pull back, his eyes flicking between your eyes and somewhere else.

His other hand slid around your waist, large palm being a source of heat as if the night air wasn’t already warm enough. It was torturous, the way his lips ghosted around your skin, every area he passed felt empty after the heat of his presence left, the way you felt his breath brush her face when he laughed at his own teasing actions.

His hand slid around to your lower back, pulling it forward in an arch as your upper back stayed against the tree. Thomas looked down at you, the very tip of his nose so close to yours that the heat radiating from him felt like he was actually touching you. You bit the inside of your cheek, never good with the whole ‘patience’ thing.

Thomas, on the other hand, could’ve dragged this out all night. But when he met your gaze, the look in your eye let the thought slip from his mind. It was when you whispered some words that didn’t quite stick in his brain against his lips, that’s what got to him. He bent down and connected your lips, the kiss wasn’t a slow, savoring-every-moment type of kiss. It was a hungry, sloppy, impatient kiss that made it seem like he was devouring you.

It was needy and heated, more teeth-clashing and tongue-tangling than anything. His lips were chapped and rough, but then again so we’re yours after two years in the glade.

His lips trailed down your cheek, then your jaw, then right under your jawline, nipping at the surprisingly soft skin. His lips followed your jawline until they were right under your ear, finding a sweet spot you didn’t even know you had.

You breathed out softly, biting the inside of your cheek as your head tilted backwards, hitting the bumpy bark of the tree. To your left was his outstretched arm that he used to hold himself up against a the tree, and to your right was his head, slightly buried in the crook of your neck as he peppered the spot with little nips as kisses. He freehand—the one that was on your lower back���slipped down to the curve of your ass, squeezing all around the plump skin.

“How’s this for getting to know you?” He breathed against your skin.

You bit your lip, just a little, but enough that his scrutinizing gaze caught it. “I think you, uh, you should get to know me just a little better, y’know?” You said, a small lump in the back of your throat that wouldn’t go down.

“Hmm, think I should, huh?” He teased.

“Mhm, yeah… y-you should.” You nodded, teeth gliding over your own bottom lip as you tugged his hair gently so he’d look up at you.

The heel of Thomas’s palm dug into your ass, prompting you to jump up a little. To jump right into his arms. Your thigh hitched up on his waist, his hand gliding from your ass to under your leg, finger tips reach the the inside of your thigh. Your other foot steady on the ground— well, would’ve been steady if you hadn’t stepped on a tree stump. Your footing faltered, twisting your ankle in the process and you pulled from the recently rekindled kiss to wince.

He chuckled and lifted up your other thigh, practically holding you up until you got the hint to wrap your legs around his waist. Your back was pressed into the tree, bare shoulders are partially-bare upper back collecting scratches and green moss smudges.

Thomas didn’t waste anymore time, the fingers of his free hand already sliding down your torso and half under the waistband of your jeans. He only stopped for a brief moment, looking up at you as you nodded back—maybe a little too eagerly.

He didn’t even bother to unbutton them or unzip them for the time being, his fingers twitching with the thought of touching you in mind. While he was just as impatient as you, he still managed to find the will in him to tease you. Two of his veiny fingers swipes over your panties, starting at the beginning of your wetness and dragging them all the way up to your cloth-covered clit. You couldn’t deny nor hide it anymore, you were soaked—rather, your panties were.

“Damn, this all for me? Guess you liked the idea of me proving you wrong, huh?” He taunted.

Your eyes bore into his like you wanted to say something snarky, but you literally could not lie. He felt it. He felt what he did to you. He knew the slight power he had over you—although you were sure he didn’t quite know just how much power he possessed.

Reluctantly, you tenaciously nodded up at him, just a very slight head movement that you hoped he’d miss, but of course he didn’t. You were grateful he didn’t respond, with words anyway, but you could see see the glint in his eye that made you want to kick him, slap him, anything you could to get your point across. But he made you weak in the knees, figuratively and literally since one of his hands was under your ass holding you up, your legs raveled around his waist and connected at his lower back.

At first, when you felt his hand leave your ass, you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed by the loss of touch, or to expect your body to hit the ground. But it didn’t. He had you pinned against the tree, your legs already locked tightly around him, your arms slung around his neck.

His, now free, hand glides around to the front of your thigh, up your stomach (it would’ve gone under your shirt if he didn’t have other plans), over your tank top-covered breasts, fingers stopping momentarily to knead the dough-y flesh, and making their final stop around your throat just below your jaw���palm pressing against your airway loosely, pointer and thumb fingers settling below your ears on either side of your head.

The fingers caressing your sopping panties also became more active; drawing slow lines up and down.

“T-Thomas,” you stuttered, not because he hand was that tight, but simply because it was tight enough to warrant a gasp present in your words. “Don’t tease me.”

You were really in no position to be the one saying commands, but it was the sheer stubborn-confidence that impressed him enough to consider the choked out words. “As you wish.” He spoke, slipping two fingers past your panties, the material bunching to the side, and right into you without any warning. Well, to be fair he did give you a warning, just no time to process before you felt his long, slender fingers gliding against your walls.

“Fuck— Thomas.” You breathed out, your tone a little whiny. You were almost embarrassed at how easily you gave in, how easily you let him get you this way.

He gave your throat one last little squeeze and dropped his hand down to one of the straps on your tank top. He was considering sliding it under your shirt, but then he’d have to go through more trouble to get it off seeing as you were leaned against a tree. So, Thomas decided to take what he knew you’d give, and he tugged at the straps.

You knew your standards were low when consent made your heart swoon, feeling the nervous hot-and-cold sweats rack your body. But being the only girl in the glade, you were glad someone other than your friends was showing you respect…ish.

After seeing your nod, he slid the strap down and you pulled your arm back and through the thing fabric piece, the same was done on the other side. Thomas’s fingers were barely moving, too slow even for his teasing pace, but his brain had a little more focus on what he was trying to do with one hand.

A few seconds later, and you were gasping at the sudden coldness you felt against your pert nipples. It was an odd sensation, the glade was always hot yet when your bare chest was exposed, the air felt cool.

The chilled breeze caused the buds to instantly harden, making something of Thomas’s harden as well. “Shit, angel, no bra?”

You hadn’t worn a bra since today was one of those days— the ones with low energy, restless sleep barely giving you enough stamina to will yourself throughout the day. “No…” you admitted, almost shamefully.

Before you could even think, lips were wrapped around the sensitive buds, a tongue flat as it pressed over the top. You let out a noise somewhere between a whimper and a small moan, finger tangling in his hair automatically.

Thomas simply couldn’t leave your other side untreated, so he rolled your other nipple between his fingers while fucking you with the other hand. Every sound you made, whether it be a sigh, a moan, a whimper, a small whine of his name, each and every one of them seemed to be egging him on more. Like small pleas and begs for more of his touch.

And whether you knew it or not, that exactly what they were; your body whining, aching for anything he’d give you, grateful for the plainest stroke of his digits in your wet cunt, or the effortless drag of his smooth tongue across your pebbled nipple.

Somewhere between small praises and straight-up degradation, you manages you end up without any clothes and Thomas’s pretty face between your legs as you stand there against the tree; teeth clenched, thighs trembling, fingers scratching at his scalp leaving a stinging sensation in their wake. It felt good— the burn of your jagged nails against his already sensitive scalp, the sun un-ironically taking part in making sure it would hurt him.

The tree bark dug into your bare back as you simultaneously pushed yourself up on your tip-toes, squirming at the sensation of his tongue on your clit becoming too much, yet tugging his face further between your wobbly thighs with the grip you had on his brown hair.

Thomas decided he liked you best when you were like this; a sweaty, moaning, whimpering, indecisive mess for him— despite only speaking his first words to you less than an hour ago.

And quite frankly, you couldn’t care less. The only thing spurring you on, giving you the shamelessness needed to give yourself up like this was the undying need to cum. He had be fucking edging you this whole damn time, yet you couldn’t complain. Not while he was pleasuring you at least. Your protests came after you didn’t—after the way he’d suck on and swirl his tongue around your swollen bud, getting you right there, only to pull away as you were about to topple over the edge.

It might not have been verbal, but maybe you’d give his hair a particularly harsh yank, or dig your nails into his raw scalp with as much strength as you could muster. Unbeknownst to you, Thomas enjoyed it. He loved the way you whined and squirmed, body begging for a release even if your mouth was too stubborn to communicate it. He loved the pain you inflicted on him, the pricking sensation hurting so bad—yet not enough—that it felt good.

“Did I get you to change your mind yet, Angel?” Thomas spoke against your cunt, lips glistening with you juices, eyes dark as he looked up at you with a captivating stare that you fell prisoner to time and time again.

You bit down on your lip brutally, the discomfort not even phasing you anymore. You were sure your lips would be bruised and possibly bloodied in the morning for more than one reason. “Thomas… please,” There it was. The first real plead that spilled from your lips. Not the desperate whines or frustrated grunts you’d given him earlier, but an actual word that put your need on full display.

And it sounded better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“What’s wrong, princess? Am I not good enough for you?” He cooed, tone mocking your desire so damn condescendingly that if it were anyone else you’d send their skull flying against the maze walls.

But you couldn’t resist, he had you under his spell, wrapped around his finger. And you knew it. You both knew it. “Fuck me, make me cum… just do something for fucks sake!” Your voice held a guise of irritation and rage, but just behind that was the exact whininess that he was looking for.

“I think I like the sound of you begging for me. It’s pretty.” He whispered, whether to himself or you, you couldn’t find it in you to give a fuck anymore.

Thomas stood up, large hands sliding up the sides of your bare body, soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips. A whimper slipped from your swollen lips, the feeling of his hands setting your body ablaze, leaving goosebumps only the chilly day’s managed to give you in their wake. You felt like you were sweating buckets, yet the warmth radiating off his wide hands (or maybe you were just small) left the rest of your figure feeling frigid.

His lips wet lips met yours, hand meeting your throat as you gasped lightly at the taste of yourself on his tongue as he poked and prodded at your own. You didn’t even have to think about how easily you let him in, you blatantly followed his command no matter what form in came in without a second thought.

Fingers feeling needy, you reached for his belt and he slotted his knee between your thighs, pinning you against the tree for the umpteenth time tonight. However, you didn’t hear a protest or receive a firm look coded with a not-so-hidden message, so you proceeded with your actions, fingers fumbling with the flimsy metal piece until you hear the telltale clanking sound of his belt slithering through the denim loops and clashing against the dirt floor.

His jeans dropped next, nothing to hold them up or keep them in their place as you unzipped them. His shirt had been discarded earlier, just before he got to his knees in front of you, so it was one less article of clothing in your way.

But that didn’t matter, the only one you care about was still on him. Dainty fingers lightly brushed over his bulge, your eyes dropping for just a second to catch a glimpse of his clothed size before you had to tilt your head back up due to the hand holding your throat. It was dark, but your eyes were well adjusted by now; well enough to see the tent his erection formed as you unintentionally teased him.

Your hands were impatient, your whole being was impatient, but you could at least do something about the need to have your hands around him. After practically grabbing his hard-on through his boxers, palming it roughly for just a second, you didn’t even wait to get your hands inside his boxers. Immediately, you tugged your hand up his length, his impressively long length. He groaned, cock already throbbing, twitching at the thought of being buried inside you.

The noise almost took you by surprise, and you were almost proud of yourself for being the cause. You brought your left knee up his thigh, situating it comfortably in the groove of his hip, and pushed down the remaining fabric. His free hand assisted you and helped slide the other end down until he kicked away the item that he’d be searching for in the darkness later.

Digits finding his hardness again as you continued to make out, your thumb carelessly swiped over his slit as you handled his tip, collecting the bead of precum that had you wetter than the brook you were settled by during previous hours. He felt the heat of your fingers disappear, only to return moments later with arousal that couldn’t’ e been just his.

You coated his shaft with your sticky mixture, eliciting a deep groan from the back of Thomas’s throat. Regardless of you having the last few touches that made gave other pleasure, he still wanted to remind you who was really in control.

His fingers tightened around the column of your throat, his body pressing you into the tree even more, hard enough for you to feel each ridge of wood jabbing into your back. You felt his knee pushing up against your cunt, your slick automatically coating his thigh as you couldn’t help but grind yourself against him. He smirked—you didn’t see—, your actions appearing needy, so much so, that they were almost pathetic.

“It’s hot as fuck knowing I made you this wet, that I got you to the point where you don’t give a fuck about how pathetic you seem, the only thought in your brain is the desire for pleasure. For me to fuck you, huh?” His words were spat with hot breath waving against your cheek, it was hard not to give in and accept his words.

“Please, Tommy… need you inside me,” until the words came out, you weren’t aware of how shameless they’d be, of how much you sounded exactly like he described. “‘nd I know you do too.” you added shortly after in an attempt to recollect some of your dignity. Didn’t work. He saw right through you.

But what did work what the whine you put on his name, the one that few called him, but only you could have him contemplating between fucking you like a normal person, or fucking you for so long and hard that neither of you could walk straight or have any cum left to give. Obviously there was only one choice in his eyes, but you couldn’t see it. You could only see blown pupils, so wide that just a sliver of brown, lust-tainted color rimmed the pitch-black darkness.

You resumed the position you were in earlier; legs squeezed tight around his waist as if your life depended on it, ankles locked in the back, heels digging into his spine a few inches above his tailbone. Your arms wrapped around the nape of his neck, while his hand was settled at the base of yours.

Striving to be a tease, Thomas watched your reactions while he rubbed his tip up and down your wetness, starting from your hole, up to the top of your clit, then back down. Something about the moves, so calculated, so precious, so damn taunting that it almost seemed like he was mocking you, it was all becoming too much. He had been edging you all night—well, enough to to feel like it was all night—that you knew he was nearing the end of his limits as well.

Impatient by nature, Thomas merely gave your throat a warning squeeze before he slipped his tip inside. He may have been ruthless with his teasing, yes, but he wasn’t heartless. He waited, kept his hips still against his own will until you nodded or squeezed his hair each time you wanted him to push in just a smidge further. He praised and affirmed you with words you didn’t even process since the only thing your mind could focus on was the contrast of pleasure with a little bit of sting. You wanted nothing more for him to be fully sheathed inside you, fucking your stupid—and so did he—, but you decided it best for you to take it slow. At first.

Once his hips were flush with yours, hard cock filling you in ways you didn’t even know existed, you adjusted your legs around his waist, shifting until the discomfort went away mostly. You didn’t even nod or give and indignation before you bucked your hips against his, causing a sigh to fall from his pink, kiss-bitten lips, while a light moan fell from yours. He took that as his sign you were ready, and he slowly pulled his hips from yours with a semi-gentle test thrust first before he saw you were okay, then he picked up his pace in a matter of seconds.

“Fuck, angel, you’re so tight.” He groaned against your neck, hot breath symbolizing a warning before his lips were all over the soft skin.

You whimpered, your hands automatically lacing in his hair and tugging at the roots, nails occasionally scratching at his scalp. You don’t know how long your hand stayed like that before realizing you needed something better to grasp, to hold on and cling to like your fate was dependent on it.

One are tucked under his, the other following suit, and soon both hands were clawing down his back, the feeling prompting Thomas to pound away harder. Teeth against your neck let you know that you’d have to wear your hair down for the next few days, and possibly skip meals at the homestead to avoid being seen as well. Even so, you didn’t care right now. You were to wrapped up in the way his fucked into you, mercilessly pounding away at you pussy, the wet squelching sounds coming from where the two of you were connected absolutely sinful.

You knew the gladers had gone to sleep however long ago, but you also knew that a few had a hard time sleeping. Thank god Chuck had knocked out before you came out here.

The threat of getting caught is what caused you to bury your face in his shoulder, head leaning against his outstretched arm that was holding the tree for support. You nips and suck at the skin of his collarbone right where it connects to his shoulder, albeit much weaker and definitely less effort put in than him, but it gives you something to do, along with practically gouging your uneven nails down his sweaty back, to keep your mind off the seething moans that threaten to rip from your throat.

After awhile of hearing you go silent and feeling the pressure of both your lips and fingers on his skin increase, Thomas grows annoyed with your lack of sound. You feel his hand leave your throat, but you don’t exactly process it, your brain overwhelmed with too many things to worry about the loss of touch, but you do feel where it ends up. Your head is abruptly yanked back, yet somehow as gently as possible although is still leaves a pained sensation. Thomas’s fingers were in between the weaves of your—now very loose and incredibly messy—braid, forcing you to look at him as he fucks you. He seemed to know exactly what you were thinking.

“Don't muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I'm fucking you.” Without a barrier to block your noises, you let out a moan at his words alone. And then everything comes crashing down. You give up on trying to quiet yourself, only having enough left in you to chase that feeling that leaves you whining incoherent words that maybe he understands, digging and clawing at any available surface you can get you dainty little fingers on (which is most likely his back or shoulder), and letting yourself go completely—letting him take care of you.

And boy does he know how to take care of you. For someone you’ve never spoken a word to until tonight, he knows how to fuck you right. He knows how to have you in his arms, body practically limp and a deadweight which only impales you more on his dick. And when he hears that you’ve given in to more than just his one request by letting your jaw fall slack, any moans or whimpers just free to waltz out, he leans in close to whisper in your ear, voice deep and slightly raspy; “Good girl.”

He feels the way your fingernails grips his shoulders harder, possibly hard enough to draw blood, and the way your already-tight walls clench around him even more. Something in his mind clicks for him that doesn’t for you, probably because your too busy with the way he fills you up so damn well his tip kisses your cervix each time you come back down on him and he fucks back up.

“You like being called a good girl, huh? You like being told how good you feel around me, being praised for doing what I say like the good girl you are?” He knows what he’s doing at this point. But that was stop you from enjoying it nonetheless.

“F—yeah, fuck, I do.” You agree with what little sanity to have left, mustering a nod that almost spends every ounce of energy.

Your eyes have him in a trance; watery, pupils blown, looking up at him with the most innocent looking eyes he could ever think of. Except he knew you weren’t innocent.

“I bet no one else fucks you like this, huh, angel? No one else gives you princess treatment because they’re too busy trying to find a way to get in your panties to even think about treating you right. But a part of you likes it, don’t you?” You merely whined, words failing you as he smirked and kept going. “You like the fact that half the guys here probably jerk off to the thought of you when they’re alone, think of you as some little slut that everyone gets a turn with in their minds. The glade’s own whore, hmm?”

“F-Fuck, Thomas,” you whimper, the feeling his words give you turning into physical pleasure, not just for yourself, but for Thomas as well when he feels your warm walls squeezing around his shaft.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it; just whoring out and fucking every guy in this place? But your so damn innocent—too damn innocent, it’s why half the guys here can’t seem to get their mind off you.” He grunts between thrusts, as if his hips slamming into yours punctuates each word. “Don’t worry, after tonight I think enough people around here will have learned who got to fuck you. I’ll treat you right, princess.”

Both hands clenched at whatever they can, and Thomas feels the crescent-shaped nail marks already imbedding themselves in his shoulder and nose of his neck.

You were getting undeniably closer, and you were afraid that he might edge you again. Hell, you were afraid that you let him have that much power over you. In spite of your efforts, your own voice adding to the ringing in your ears as you bucked your hips downwards— if even possible with the force he had you pressed against the tree with. “Don’t stop… please, please don’t stop, Tommy.” You begged, pathetically desperate for him to finally let you release.

“Only if you keep making those pretty little sounds, angel.” And you did; effortlessly obeying his commands, when in reality it was inevitable that your sounds escaped at some point. You just didn’t hold back at all. At least you didn’t talk to very many people, otherwise they would’ve been suspicious of your barely-there voice if the hadn’t already heard you screaming the night before.

His thrusts became irregular, and at first you thought he was going to tell you that you didn’t do well enough for him, seize yet another orgasm from you like he had been doing all night. What you didn’t realize was that he was slowing down to edge himself, not wanting to cum to early or before you did.

Thomas decided you wouldn’t mind a few scratches on your back, maybe a few splinters, ‘cause it sure as hell looked like you wouldn’t give a damn right now, so he took his supporting hand off the tree and encased it around your throat, admiring the way his hand seemed to swallow you whole. His free hand fled to your clit, rubbing circles against the sensitive bud as you cried out his name. It was mindless, you hadn’t even realized it. That’s what made it so fucking hot.

Time and time again, you continued to impress him with how easily you could be controlled, completely fucked out to the point you only knew his name and the word ‘please’. “Atta girl. That’s right, let everyone know who’s fucking you like this.” You whimpered his name again, the word simply rolling off your tongue without a thought. He wasn’t even sure if you said it because you followed orders so well, or if it was really the only thing you could say.

“T-Thomas, shit—fuck, I’m g—” your sentence was left unfinished since you couldn’t breathe, your lungs on fire just like the rest of your skin. It could’ve been from the way Thomas’s hand was unconsciously restricting your airway a little too much, though, once he noticed he eased up. Either way, he got your message loud and clear. And he could feel his own release brewing in the pit of his stomach.

“Please… please don’t stop this time. I-I can’t take it anymore… need to cum.” You whined between shallow breaths before he could even speak.

His pace and force picked up to almost inhuman speeds, basically fucking you into the tree behind you. “I won’t, I promise.”

As if the words didn’t register, mindless pleas were pouring from you, “I have to—’m so close, Tommy, please.”

“I know, baby, I know. Me too, alright? So your gonna be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” It wasn’t until his thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves he was previously circling, did his words finally sink in.

Along with his gentle demand came your orgasm that you didn’t know had been so close the whole time. Your walls enveloped him so tight he was sure his dick would slip out, but it didn’t. It stayed inside your warm, velvety wetness, twitching but thrusting sloppily throughout your high as his neared.

You were seeing stars, and you were pretty sure they weren’t the ones in the night sky above you. Your nails dug so harshly into his chest and back that your fingers aches, and you could only imagine the number you’d done on him. The feeling was euphoric, sure you’d never come down from the drunken-high feeling. Your thighs shook, muscles spasming as your nerves felt like they were frying at the slight overstimulation he was giving you.

Feeling you cum around him, his cock twitched inside you, soon giving into the demands of your velvety warmth and wet squelching sounds. “Fuck, shit—such a good girl, angel… such a good fucking girl for me.” He moaned out, his voice the softest it’d been yet, but still somehow possessing the same roughness as before.

You felt a hot-warmth gush inside you, your face already buried deep in his shoulder again as you physically could not keep your head up. “Just for you.” You whimpered, enjoying the feeling of being completely filled to the brim, his hand coming off your throat to slide around the back of your neck in a somewhat-comforting hold. The feeling of being taken care of.

[pb-dot]

It's Peebsday

I don't normally make a big ado about my birthday, I don't like creating a fuss, and it doesn't exactly help that I share the date this year with another one of those apocalypticly pivotal US elections, as well as the always very important "Castiel goes to superhell day." This year though? I said fuck it, it's time to Make A Post.

The passing year has been frustrating for me along multiple angles. My efforts to seek therapy has been thwarted by the local healthcare bueracracy becoming temporarily very hostile to people looking for help with anything more complex than the most unambigiously diagnosed and treatment-responsive of cases, which is bad news for my treatment-resistant ass. On the bright side, this radio silence from the Healthcare State has prompted me to reflect on my condition, and even seek out an autism diagnosis, although the jury's still out on whether that's something I'll actually get or if I'll remain as one of God's Originals, too normal to diagnose, too abnormal to function? Time, I suppose, will tell.

As is perhaps typical for us Writerly Types, Employment has also been a struggle this year. This frustration in particular grew to a fever pitch over the summer, as my "Job Guy" from the local employment office went so thoroughly AWOL I still haven't been able to confirm whether he still works there or not. To her credit, his eventual replacement has shown great interest in getting me into a job that doesn't rely almost entirely on what I've now come to understand to be my ability to mask, or as I've referred to it, my "normal person cosplay."

There is, however, one bright side of this otherwise very frustrating state of affairs. I am writing. I'm not writing as much as I'd like, but it's way more consistent than I've ever done it, and it's at a pace I think I'll be able to maintain even under the duress of employment. Hell, it's even not a thing I need to worry about publishing, since I'm chucking it all out in the aether via a mailing list twice monthly. It won't pay the bills or anything since the mailing list is free, but it's not like my efforts at getting TCB published has gotten me anywhere either.

Thereafter, or as I would call it if I was angry at it, Thereafter Book 1: The City After The End, is a very fun book to work with. The concept of a postapocalyptic city made out of the flotsam and jetsam of destroyed fantasy worlds is ripe with opportunities for fun worldbuilding as well as a very effective underlying conflict. If our heroes don't figure their shit out and help everyone's going to panic and starve and things won't be very magical at all. Speaking of the heroes, the antagonistic-but-flirting-but-kinda-over-it banter between the four protagonists is a real blast to write, although I try to not over-indulge to actually get that fun plot I'm talking about going.

I feel like I'm laying it on thick here, but this isn't exactly me advertising the thing (although I will link the mailing list if it should rouse some interest,) as much it is talking about what a joy it is to write the thing. We writers should get better at that, I think. Yeah, some times writing sucks, and is difficult and hurts, but you know what? Some times it's not. A lot of the time for me, actually. Writing has a noticeable impact on my mental health. My last therapist noted that I seemed considerably less depressed than usual when I wrote the first draft of His Impossible Brushstrokes during NaNo last year.

So that's my year in brief review. It's been a tough year for me. Bearable? Yes, certainly, the fact that things are difficult right now only further motivates what I've come to call my "slightly overtuned sense of fairness and justice," and people have come to call "the reason you're so pissed off all the time."

It's not all bad though. I've come to really appreciate Writeblr as a community. Yeah we're all stressed and probably worrying about Writing The Middle Part, but I do find the cameraderie refreshing. @owlsandwich and @teacupsandstarlight in particular have been lights in my life, both thanks to their neverending patience in beta-reading Thereafter chapters with little to no warning, and in their boundless enthusiasm and commiseration with my various rants. You two have made a pretty shit year so much better just by being around!

Anyway, link to Thereafter below, it is 13 chapters long at the moment, book 1 is slated to be roughly 23-24 chapters long, but you know how it is with this kind of thing. Also if you've read this far I love you and hope you have as good of a Destiel Goes To Superhell Day as possible (also if you're an eligible voter in the US I pray of you that you Vote, I don't know if I have another Trump presidency in me and I don't even live over there.)

[tucker-0k]

hey guys

i js finished reading When Bad People Kiss on AO3 in 2024 and if you play GTA5 (or more specifically ship trikey) and you havent read it before do it rn

its 10 chapters and 230K words detailing year-by-year of Michael and Trevors relationship starting from when they first met to the Ludendorff heist and its so beautiful and so heartbreaking like my heart physically ached for them i think its a medical condition but thats neither here nor there

anyway i thought i would make a list of each chapter and type one sentence that summarizes how the chapter made me feel so...

Chapter 1: aw i love them sm this is so sweet

Chapter 2: FUCK YOU MICHAEL

Chapter 3: FUCK YOU MICHAEL

Chapter 4: FUCK TREVORS MOM and michael, kinda.

Chapter 5: god i hate brad

Chapter 6: the ending is so bittersweet bc the moment itself is so soft and beautiful but yk itll never happen again 😞😞

Chapter 7: oh trevor thats not...!

Chapter 8: OH MY GOD TREVOR THATS NOT.... IN THE DRESS???

Chapter 9: FUCK YOU MICHAEL and brad is like...... kind of bearable now

Chapter 10: i hope michael burns in hell

anyway those are my thoughts. hopefully this makes you want to read it bc theres so much i completely glossed over for times sake and it kept me so interested for all 230K words

and also if theres one constant in this fic, Lester is the best character and some conflicts would have been solved in seconds if people js listened to this man

[moonlight-prose]

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I have spent several days drafting this post because there's so much I want to say. 2023 was filled with some big moments for me. I graduated college, met my friend group, went on night time adventures, and actually acted like my age for once. I was chaotic and fun and carefree for the first time since I turned 19. But things have also gone wrong in many ways.

Which is why I write this to you guys. The incredible people on this site. Whether you follow me, are my mutuals, or have seen my blog in passing (or in your notes), I want to wish you a Happy New Year.

While this year might have sucked for a majority of it, the light I found in this community - on this site - is unmatched. I have met some of my greatest friends here. I've cried to fics, lost my mind over characters, and written so much more than I actually expected. It's been a hell of a year and an absolute honor getting to thirst with y'all.

So here's to getting sluttier in 2024! I'm toasting my champagne glass to you guys.

I also wanted to simply shout out some very important people to me. They've made 2023 bearable and I couldn't have been happier to know them through this place. A big massive fucking THANK YOU to my darlings. You're the greatest people I know.

@soulores my queen, my babe, my bestie. it is hard to believe we didn't start officially talking till summer of this year, because i genuinely feel like we've known each other for years. from our sunday morning phone conversations, to our screaming in the dms about these fictional men, and movie days with you. i couldn't have asked for a better friend to meet this year. here's to many many more memories in 2024 (and to finally meeting in person!).

@themarcusmoreno what would be a dedication post without mentioning you! my love i am so so fucking happy we met two years ago. all because of pedro pascal. crazy to think i would have found such an incredible person who happened to love all the things i love! you're the greatest friend and i am so grateful for you. thank you for sticking with me.

@sunflowersteves vic the absolute bad bitch. THE PERSON YOU ARE. i am so so so so fucking happy you and i are still mutuals. after meeting through marvel of all things and then pedro and now top gun. there's so many memories with you i cherish. and i can't wait to make more. and a massive thank you for being such a cheerleader for my writing this year. you and ash have managed to keep me going even when times were tough.

@karasong my first EVER mutual on this site. it's so hard to think that if it weren't for you i wouldn't be writing on here. you followed me two years ago and i flipped out and the feeling hasn't changed one bit. i couldn't be happier you're in my life. from starting up the server with you, to yearning for obi-wan, life with you in it is so much better.

@softanon it would not be a proper dedication post if i did not add you babes. dia you are one of my favorite people to exist. you're effortlessly cool, have the best ideas, and i always feel so lucky that i met you. from our talks about the moon knight bois, to tommy miller, to yearning over din djarin, i have loved every single convo with you. they bring me so much joy. you are an incredible person and i am looking forward to SO MANY more convos about our favorite men!

@saradika to one of the greatest people to exist in this fandom i love love love you. your graphics and the love you show to everyone around is so incredible and bright. we seriously don't deserve you, but i am so happy you are here and that you exist. you've made 2024 brighter just by being here.

@tarrenterror25 the spookiest darling ever! when you showed up on the server it was such a good day! and you brought with you so much fun and joy that the server was never the same. i am sending you an infinite amount of love this new years and here's to more chaos with you in 2024!

to my darlings in the dilf nation server:

@arctvrvs thea babes you are iconic, lovely, and are one of the best people to exist. you made 2023 so much better just by being around to yearn over joel with you. i couldn't be happier to know you!

@fluffyprettykitty selene you are the coolest people who has the coolest fics! the love you share on fics is so incredible, it never ceases to bring a smile to my face. also you're just so awesome i couldn't have asked for a better person to join the server.

@rae-gar-targaryen my fanboy lover in crime. i'm sure i've said it countless times, but you are so cool and amazing and beautiful. you are a goddess in real life. the talent you have is so fucking incredible it haunts me. i love each and every one of your creations and i love you as well!

@mostly-megan you are an absolute sweetheart and even though we haven't talked much in 2023, i hope to have so many more conversations with you in the coming new year. sending you my love darling!

@agirllovespancakes iris you lovely human being. i remember when i was first posting hurt you would reblog the greatest comments. and it made me want to continue, because i looked forward to each one. and now that i know you love tommy too! you're so amazing and i dedicate a new years kiss to you.

@inklore you talented insanely incredible person! i could make a whole list of good things about you. i am sending you SO MUCH love for 2024. i hope it's amazing.

@outercrasis birdie my darling i want to tell you all the things that i cherish about you. from the love you showed on black velvet, to the way we screamed about bruce wayne and even frank castle, i live for our conversations. here's to so much more fun in 2024 and infinite convos about saltburn.

tagging those lovely humans who've made 2023 so incredible. please know i love you so much and i am kissing you when the clock strikes midnight. thank you for making this year so incredible!:

@stargazingcarol, @cregan-starks, @lady-of-glass-and-bone, @fushic0re, @targaryenvampireslayer, @pennyserenade, @flightlessangelwings, @stargirlfics, @goldgilzean, @kalllistos, @flordeamatista, @perotovar, @my-secret-shame, @roamwithahungryheart, @galatially, @eloquentmoon, @starryeyedstories, @oscarseyebrow, @iraot, @zinzinina, @thefact0rygirl, @iamskyereads, @navybrat817, @ifimayhaveaword, @the-godparticle

[maxverstappensflatbrim]

Show Me Yours | Matty Healy [38]

chapter thirty-eight, act five: the ballad of me and my brain

masterlist

June 3rd 2017

The little sparkly silver birthday hat sits crooked on Tommie’s head, her freshly cut short hair in a mess and her bangs are fluffed out of control. There’s silver sparkles on her forehead, catching the light alongside the beads of sweat on her forehead.

She’s wearing her beat up skeleton cowboy boots, a pair of shorts and a new sparkly waistcoat George got her for her birthday. 

Her cheeks are flushed but her tipsy smile drops when the door finally swings open, “Matt?”

“Finally!” He complains, pushing his way into the house Adam had rented in Ohio for her birthday, where her surprise birthday party was being held, “Where’s Adam?”

“Um, kitchen, I think….”

He nods, not saying much else, her eyes focus on the burnt out joint he’d dropped and she steps on it quickly before following him inside.

“You’re late.” Carly says, back of her hand hitting Matty’s shoulder as he grabs a glass to fill it with water, tipping it all down himself as he starts downing it. His white 

“Late to what,” He looks around leaning against the kitchen counter, “Why’s there so many people in the house right now?”

Carly steps back, then she reaches forward, hand grasping his chin as she opens up his eyes, “Are you high right now?”

“Just on weed.”

She shakes her head and pushes him to the side, “Are you serious?”

“It’s just weed, Carly, calm down. Where’s Adam?”

“Upstairs, I think, getting Tommie’s bir-”

“Great, cheers.” He says before heading for the stairs, almost hitting Tommie over as he passes her.

She leans back so he can pass, brows raised as she meets Carly in the kitchen, “What’s he doing here?”

She crosses her arms and looks back at the door as Carly sighs slowly, “He was supposed to be here hours ago.”

Her head snaps to Carly, her hat falling off her head, being caught by the string which makes it hand around her neck, “You invited him?”

Carly reaches out to fix the hat, brushing her bangs down and then fixing her hair, “Adam invited him. Like two weeks ago ‘cause he was moping around.”

Tommie picks at the skin on her fingernails and sighs, she leans back against the counter with her arms crossed, staring into space and hoping Matty will stay away from her.

The past few months since the Brits have been hell, touring around but feeling completely alone. Of course she had the guys, but only Ross knew what had happened that night, and even he didn’t know everything.

Caleb has stayed away, they’ve been in the same room maybe once since it happened, Gabby had come to tour but she and Matty had gotten hotel rooms and travelled separately leaving the others on the bus.

That’s when Tommie felt like she could breathe again, one less person made the metal container much more bearable to be in.

And now, on this night dedicated to her- something she would’ve hated four years ago if it wasn’t for Matty building up her birthday tolerance- she’d felt the happiest she’d been in months, maybe even years.

With Carly following her around with extra drinks and Adam giving her a slice of pizza every time her hand was empty.

Even Button had been making her feel special by cleaning up her own toys (she didn’t want any of the strangers to steal them so she hid them in different places around the house).

There’s not too many people here, the band and their girlfriends, Jamie and his missus, Denise and Louis had flown over too, some tour helpers and a few other people. Phoebe had sent about ten thousand messages apologising that she couldn’t make it after receiving an invite from Adam.

There’s no Caleb, no Gabby. And until now there had been no Matty.

She sips from her drink again and Carly leans forward to adjust the party hat on her head when it starts slipping again, “Just ignore him, he’s come to see Adam, will probably leave after that.”

She nods with a quiet sigh but quickly smiles when Rome calls her over to ask about one of the presents she’d received. 

It’s much later when Matty returns, she hadn’t even realised he’d come back downstairs but a loud racket from the kitchen only she seems to hear has her coming face to face with him.

There’s around three or four smashed glasses on the floor, Matty’s left hand is cut to pieces but he doesn’t seem to mind as he continues to fix himself a drink.

“Matt?”

He looks up, eyes squinting as he leans towards her to see who it is better, “Oh, hey.”

“Oh, hey?”

“Hello, Thomas, such a fine night tisn’t it?”

She rolls her eyes at his sarcasm and leaves the kitchen to head for the bathroom upstairs where Adam had made very clear to everyone is the place he’d stored the first aid kit that they usually keep tucked away on the bus. He’d made the purchase a few shows back when George had cut his finger when trying to make dinner as the bus was moving.

When she returns he’s sipping from the glass and she shakes her head asking him to come with her, “Why?”

“Just… please?”

That’s all it takes, he’s following her into the quiet hallway, and down the little steps out to the porch.

He has many things on the tip of his tongue ready to say but keeps his mouth shut when she forces him to sit.

She sits beside him and wipes the blood from his palm carefully, he winces, the pain sobering him up as he takes his hand away from her.

“I need to get the glass out.”

“How’d that happen?” His brows are furrowed and he’s leaning against her to stay upright.

“I don’t know.”

He winces again and she pulls his hand a little more harshly, “Stop babying me.”

“Stop being a baby.”

He huffs and she holds his hand up when it’s all cleaned up, “I told Gabby I wouldn’t talk to you.”

“Gabby doesn’t want you to talk to me?”

“No, Gabby said we’re bandmates and we have to talk to work well. But I don’t want to talk to you.”

She slides away a little, turning her head to look forward, “Does Caleb let you speak to me?”

“I haven’t spoken to Caleb in four months.”

“You broke up?”

“No.”

“What happened?”

She sighs and shakes her head at him, “You’re all cleaned up, can go finish your drink now.”

“What happened?”

She just looks at him, the party hat crooked and tears in her eyes catching the light reaching them from the kitchen window, reflecting the sparkles on her hat, “Oh…”

She nods as he suddenly realises, but he stands and heads for the door, but she can’t help it. Can’t help asking, reaching out.

“Why, Matt? Why’d you have to ruin it for me?”

“You were miserable.” He shrugs.

“Did you think it would make me happy?” She scoffs, “This life I have now. I’m in some kind of- of limbo with my relationship. With Gabby, with you.”

He shrugs and scuffs his shoes against the pavement, “Exactly, you don’t think Matty, only think about yourself.”

“That’s not true-”

“Not true? Look what’s happened, you’re still with Gabby, still got the guys cause they don’t know what’s happened, you’re fine. I lost my boyfriend, my best friend, Gabby…”

He shrugs again and she shakes her head one of the tears finally falling, “I’m sorry.” He decides to say, not looking at her, he can’t look at her.

“For what?”

“That you’re in love with me.”

She raises a brow, but then they furrow. And if he’d just look at her he’d see that face he hates seeing. The one that shows her confusion and sadness at the same time, the one that has tears in her eyes and a frown on her lips. 

“Cause I’m not in love with you.” He tells her. “I can’t be in love with you now.” He clarifies.

She finds herself holding her breath as he stands, “Why not?”

“I- I can’t.”

She stands in front of him now, party hat long forgotten as she rips it from her head and clutches it in one hand. Giving her something to hold onto, something to hold her back. “Am I that bad? What’s wrong with me, Matty? What’s so wrong with me you can get it up but you can’t fall in love?”

He opens his mouth and then closes it.

It’s not that he’s not in love with her, it’s that he won’t let himself be in love with her.

Of course he’s in love with her, he always has been. But he’ll ruin her, he doesn’t want to ruin her. He wants to get it right, to be sober and love her every second, to spoil her and wake her up with a smile on her face. To have Allen and Button run around together in a garden of their own house, a house they’ll buy and move into together.

But they can’t have that.

He can’t give her the life he wants her to have, he knows Caleb won’t either, which is why he worked so hard to split them up. He’ll agree he went about it all wrong but he just wants her to find someone good, who can give her everything he wants to give her and more.

But at the same time he doesn’t want her to find that if it’s not with him. It’s why he worked so hard to sabotage her and Caleb’s relationship.

“Go back to the stupid party,” He tells her, “Find another friend of Adam’s to fall in love with.”

She stands, speaking before he disappears down the pathway, “Do you know what this stupid party’s for, Matt?”

He shrugs, kicking at the floor which causes him to lose his balance for a few seconds. He stumbles, and she clutches the party hat even tighter not to reach out and steady him. 

She’s tired of being the one to steady him. 

“It’s my birthday.”

He stays silent, still not looking at her, “Twenty-three today.”

Still he says nothing, so she goes on to fill the silence. It’s never silent between them. Usually it’s filled with their shared laughter, or calm breaths or skipped beats of the heart.

“You know, coincidentally, that’s the age you were when everything between us started going to shit.”

“Tom-”

“It’s the truth, we haven’t been us, Matty and Tommie, for a very long time. And- I’m tired of trying for us to be that way.”

“We’re fine, perfect….”

“We haven’t talked since February, Matt. We’ve been on tour for almost five months now, and haven't said a word to each other…”

“I fucked up, I know that-”

“Yeah, you did. We both did.” She admits, “But I can’t-” She shakes her head, “I don't like feeling this way.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll try harder-”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Ma-”

“Then what are you saying? I never know what you’re trying to say. So just say it. Outright, fucking say it.”

“I hate that I’m in love with you.”

The door behind them opens, Adam pops his head out, “More pizza’s here.”

She keeps staring at Matty, he looks back up at her, Adam doesn’t move.

“Happy Birthday, Baby.” He says simply.

She nods, watching him turn, hands shoved in his jacket pocket as he heads out into the street, head ducked to protect himself from the rain and disappears from their view.

She tosses the hat away from her and sits on the steps of the house, arms wrapped around herself as she watches the hat get washed away down the street in the rain.

Adam sighs, “Come on inside, it’s raining.”

She shakes her head, lighting a cigarette from in the pocket of her shorts and staring out into the street, “What’s going on?” Adam asks after he’s sat beside her on the greying steps.

She shakes her head but he nudges her, “Come on, put that big smile back on your face. I’ve missed it.”

“I’m lonely,” She says, arms wrapped around herself, a fresh cigarette in her mouth. Adam looks at the ashtray beside her, there’s fourteen cigarettes in there, and he hopes to God that it hasn’t been cleaned out for a few days. But they’ve only been here for a day, he hopes there’s a few other smokers here, but she and George are the only two that he's seen disappeared for a smoke tonight. 

“I can’t sleep.” She says again, taking a deeper drag,  “I think I’m depressed,” She tells him, “Or Autistic.”

“Oh, you’re definitely Autistic.” Adam says and she cracks a little smile as she looks down. “You can be both. Have you… talked to anyone about it?”

She shrugs, “Like who? Caleb?” She scoffs, “Haven't seen him since February, he’s avoiding me.”

“Why?”

“Cause he knows I’m going to break up with him,” She sighs, “Matty was right…”

“Wow, never thought I’d hear you of all people admit to Matthew Healy being right.”

She chuckles, but it turns into a weird strangled sob as her entire face contorts and she starts crying, leaning her head onto Adam’s shoulder.

“I hate him.” Adam’s not sure who she’s talking about, Matty or Caleb at this point.

“He- I hate him. Can’t stand him. He makes me hate myself… and he’s so… so American-” Caleb then, “And condescending, he has to correct the way I talk and makes me feel stupid around his friends, and I…”

“Break up with him then.”

“I can’t do it over the phone-”

“Email?”

She chuckles again, rubbing at her nose harshly, “I can’t do that. It would break me if it happened to me-”

“He knows that, that’s why he’s avoiding you.”

“You know, the end approached us before the beginning.” She says.

He readjusts his grip, pulling her back a bit so the rain won;t hit her legs, “Why did you start dating him?”

“He listened to me… and I don't know, I felt like it was a way to distract me I guess…”

“From what?” She breathes in, chest stuttering, she considers telling him. She thinks over how it will go, how she will say it, how he will react, their relationship once it’s revealed. 

‘I slept with Matty, the day before I saw Caleb… we fell out over it so I went on a date with him to get back at Matty, make him feel the way he made me feel.’

‘You slept with my best friend? Are you serious? What’s wrong with-’

“Life…”

He hums, “Not to make Matty jealous?”

She looks up at him slowly, “Why would I do that?”

He chuckles, “I’m not stupid, Tommie, or blind. I know everything-”

She turns to the door in realisation of her loose mouthed best friend, “Ross! I’m gonna kill him, he told you-”

“Everything.”

She winces, head ducking down as she closes her eyes, “Ads-”

He shrugs, “You can talk to me about that kind of stuff you know-” He is quick to jump in and correct himself, “Not sex stuff… Please don’t tell me about that.”

She giggles a little, sniffling with a nod, “Okay… not even about how he-”

He unravels his arms to plug his ears and she laughs again.

He grins at the fact he got her to smile again, he pulls her into his side, kissing the top of her head, “Break up with Caleb, focus on yourself, don’t worry about Matty or the band right now. Take time off if you need it-”

She shakes her head, “I’m not quitting the band.”

“It’s not quitting, more like taking a break. No one will know, we’ll say you’re ill or something.”

She shakes her head, “I’m not leaving, not taking a break. I’m fine.”

“Don’t push yourself.”

“It’s not a push, more of a slow drag.” She says which has him laughing again as he shakes her a little.

“Promise me if it gets too much you’ll just stop. Go home, have time to yourself. I’ll come with you if you need it.”

She nods, lifting her hand and they link pinky fingers, “I will, Ads, don’t worry.”

“I always worry.”

taglist

@thereisaplaceintheheart, @indierockgirrl, @sofaritsalrightt, @julezs-bl0g, @eaglestar31, @sophinthealpss, @noacfemcel, @if-my-heart-bleeds, @befrwime, @fallingforel, @sexorchocolateorpillowsorclouds, @3terna15unshin3, @1975sophie1975, @thesocraticjunkiewannabe, @littlesoldierelleora, @procrastinatinglikeapro

-let me know if you want to be added :)

[dross-the-fish]

Apparently to get the "best" ending in Veilguard you had to have romanced Solas. Feels like kind of a slap in the face but I guess anyone who liked the egg gets exactly what they wanted while anyone who didn't play a female elf doesn't matter.

Major Spoilers Ok definitely going to tag this as spoilers but all of my friends who still love dragon age have been playing DAV and I've watched their play throughs so I know what you mean about the best ending but honestly?

For all the hype and all of the talk about this romance and how it was supposed to save Solas? I feel like they didn't get much, not nearly as much as they should have. They got a handful of minutes, an awkwardly animated stiff kiss and Llavellan pretty much agrees to share Solas's fate with him, essentially agreeing to share the consequences of a mess he created, a mess that has directly harmed her and her people for centuries and for what? Someone who still seems like he's not over Mythal? Did Llavellan really "win" here? She's lost her arm to this guy, her entire life was up-heaved, and now she's going to leave her entire world behind to face whatever is waiting for Solas in the fade? Something he outright tells her is going to be terrible? She gives some trite line about "Not if we share it together" but I really doubt that it's going to be sunshine and rainbows waiting for them just because she went in with him. I really have to ask, why is this guy worth it? If you take off the rose-tinted glasses what does Llavellan actually get out of this and is the love of a single person who abandons you for years and tells you you can't be together actually worth this ending? For a full decade was she just living her life on hold, never meeting anyone, always carrying a torch for someone who never intended to come back to her? I guess it would be sweet if it didn't feel completely one sided. This could be good stuff if you're a tragedy enjoyer but a lot of Solavellan's aren't and as much as I grumble this feels like such a hollow end to their story. The inquisitor goes from being a main character, to being an extension of Solas' story. If you made that choice in inquisition then having Solas remove her markings feels almost like foreshadowing, like for this relationship to exist the Inquisitor keeps having to give up pieces of herself and give them to Solas. And in the end he takes them all, he lets her come and face his fate with him. This relationship has already cost her limbs and years of her life, what's an eternity making hell more bearable for the person who took those things and treats their loss like it was unavoidable? I fall to the party of not really wanting to redeem Solas, even when I can accept his motivations I do not like him as a character and I don't like his writing which seems kind of all over the place in Veilguard from what I've observed. If the fans of the franchise like this ending then good for them, but I can honestly say if I was in the camp of wanting to see this epic love story where the hero romances the villain this would have been the most weak sauce disappointing way for it to play out.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Lost & Found - Chapter Nine.

So then, my beautiful, wonderful audience. Those who are not new around these parts know that sometimes, treats are given in the form of a double update day with my stories, and guess what? Today is one of those days! I know you've all been waiting patiently for the sexual side of Emma and Guero's blossoming relationship to finally flower, so I thought I'd share it today in the next chapter! Has that made you smile? I hope it has! :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight

Words - 3,434

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.

The more she revealed, it seemed, the more comfortable she became with sharing memories of her nineteen years held prisoner. Guero lay there and let her recount it all, being exactly what she needed, somebody to simply listen.  

“Marie taught me how to shoot.” He had wondered at how well she seemed to handle the Beretta she’d pointed at his head, her handling of the firearm steely and confident. “There were guns kept all over the house, so there’d always be one within easy reach, just in case. With whom Rocco was, he was a target, or rather his family were. He routinely pissed off other mob families, so of course anyone he cared for became a target, a weak point.  

“She wanted me to be able to protect myself from such a threat, but mostly, if Rocco himself ever became so unhinged that I felt my life was in danger. “Shoot him dead, and we’ll figure it out somehow afterward”, is what she used to tell me. How we would have figured that out beyond running for our lives, I don’t know. His guys would have hunted us down.” 

She paused for a moment, tears beginning to swim within her eyes. “I hate myself, for leaving her. Joey, Alessia and Mikey, too. I loved them so much, they were like my siblings for Christ’s sake! It’s a guilt that’ll never leave me, that I ran and they’re all still stuck there! She became my mother, and I abandoned her!” 

“Hey, no,” he began, touching his fingers under her chin, gently lifting her head. “You don’t have to feel guilty about a thing. I get that you miss her, she made the hell he put you through bearable where she could, but Marie chose that life, Emma. Nobody forced her. 

“She knew who she was marrying, and I’m not saying that in the end she had an easy choice to get away from him, ‘cuz I can see from what you told me he’d have killed her for it, but you found a way out. You took your chance, and you got free. If she loves you as much as it seems she does, then she’ll be fucking happy as hell the girl she counted as one of her own got free of him.” 

She absorbed his words, realising that no matter how unpleasant it felt, what he’d said was the plain, simple truth. If she didn’t assume her to be dead via Rocco’s hand, Marie would be quietly rejoicing her escape. “Is it wrong that I feel more of a maternal bond with her than I do my actual mom? I feel guilty for that, too. When I hear the word mom, I think of Marie, not Cassie.”  

He shifted slightly beneath her, Emma moving a little as he turned onto his side, resting his head on his arm. “It might sound cold, but it’s fact. Marie was in your life longer than your birth mom. I kinda guess it’s only natural you’d think that. Doesn’t mean you love Cassie any less, or that you can’t reconnect with her now you’re free.”  

“But, but,” she began, her throat swelling on a rising lump, “that’s the thing, there is no Cassie. When I was twenty-five, we sat and looked on the internet, I begged her to look up my family. I just wanted to know if they were okay. Mom died back in two thousand and thirteen from breast cancer. My dad, he passed away six years ago, motorbike accident. All I have left is Dylan, who is still in Spokane. My grandparents, too, unless anything happened in the interim. 

“I’ll never see my mom and dad again, and I loathe him, I detest him completely that he robbed me of those years with them, that they both died not knowing what had happened to me! As if me being taken wasn’t bad enough. It left Dylan all alone, no immediate family, and it’s all because of him!” 

She fell apart at that point, naturally so, sobbing against his chest as Guero held her. Again, he had no idea what to say to that, knowing it would take a man greater with words than he was to offer verbal comfort. Instead, he was just there, not knowing that truly that was all she needed from him, just someone to be there. It wasn’t about words. Listening was enough, as he continued to do, Emma sharing more with him about her life within the gilded cage prison that was the Lombardi mansion.  

“He used to virtually pimp me out to his friends too at parties.” Once again, Guero felt his anger flare like a firecracker, grinding his teeth as his jaw tightened. “I always wanted to enjoy sex, but none of them ever made it feel good for me, all too consumed by their own pleasure to give a damn about mine. As long as they got to lie between the legs of a pretty, young blonde, that was good enough. 

“There was only one of them who was different. His underboss, Vincent Calabrese never laid a hand on me. I was offered to him, and for appearances in front of Rocco and the others he always accepted, but once we got into the bedroom, he just sat down beside me on the bed and we talked. He said he wasn’t in the habit of defiling little girls, but even when I was over the age of consent, he still wouldn’t.  

“He staunchly disagreed with what was being done, the child trafficking. ‘It’s an affront to god, snatching children from their families’ is what he always used to say. He always opposed it, and Rocco knew that, but ultimately went along with what was being done for the sake of a quiet life, and I guess not ending up with a bullet between his eyes either. This leads me to something that you guys should all know, EZ especially. 

“You’re running heroin for him now, but all that will change if Rocco has his way, and believe me, he will. You guys are in his pocket now, which means in his mind, he owns you. You’re all to do with as he pleases, and what he pleases is to start bringing children across the border. Undocumented migrants are much easier to move, and get away with moving, too. I overheard him talking about it, it was always a two birds with one stone deal for him. He’d get you used to the money first, and then tell you that your consignment would begin to include kids as well.” 

Guero pushed himself up, his eyes rounding as he looked down at her. “For real, that motherfucker wants us in on trafficking kids?” 

His horror at the very suggestion was telling over the person he was. Although still a criminal, he was a man with the kind of morals that had been few and far between in the world she had escaped from. “Eventually, yeah.” 

“And if we refuse?” He didn’t need to ask, really. He could guess. 

She made a gun motion against the side of her head, couple with a soft exclamation of ‘pow’. “He’d wipe you all out and move onto the next nearest charter, using your eradication as an example of what happens when people push back against him.” 

The weight of the mafia. That was a war they definitely wouldn’t win, and he knew that for sure. Rocco Lombardi could crush them all, very easily, too. “I have to take that to EZ. Not now, of course, but at some point over the weekend, call a templo. Will you be okay to come and tell us what you know?” 

She smiled, reaching to stroke his hair. “Of course, I will.” 

They remained quiet for a time after, Emma needing the silence. Her legs remained in tangle with his as she reached for the tequila bottle, taking a long glug, the alcohol burning her throat. She felt a little drunk and numb, which was what she had needed in order to sit there and offload it all to another person. “There’s more I could tell you about my life, but right now, I feel drained. Like I need air, too. Can you give me a minute?” 

“Yeah, take as long as you need.” He reached to stroke her face, Emma turning her head and kissing his palm, getting up and letting herself out of the front of the house. The cool air hit her, soothing to her frayed nerves, the residual effects of her revelation hanging onto her, though.  

“Hey, boo.” Of course, Tyrone would notice her out there, always keeping the watch. She walked over to his window, her shoulders heavy, watching him emerge from behind the swathe of curtain fabric. “Damn, you look all sad and shit. Fuckboy bin’ actin’ up?” 

She shook her head. “No, no he’s great. Listen, I know you deal, so I figure I’m in the right place. Can you sell me a joint? That’s all I want, just one.” 

He looked entertained at the naivety of her question, that it was the norm for dealers to exchange such a small amount. Tyrone, for all of this mouth and uncouthness was kind, though. “I ain’t selling you shit, white girl. This is on me, hold on.”  

She smiled. “Thank you, you’re great.” 

He beamed, reaching to grab his rolling tray, locating one of his pre-rolled joints. “Ain’t I, though? I know fuckboy rarely smokes it, so just remember I gotchu if you ever need a lil’ hit.” The truth was, neither did she. She’d occasionally partook of it back in her old life, secretly taking from Rocco’s personal stash which he smoked to ease his chronic migraines. It helped her feel more relaxed in the utter brutal chaos of her life. It smelled and tasted awful, but she enjoyed the calming buzz.  

Tyrone passed a joint and a lighter through the window. “Enjoy, boo.” She smiled, leaning in and kissing his cheek. “Aw, lawdy! I gotta kiss from a pretty girl, hell yeah!”  

She laughed softly, shaking her head and lighting up, moving to sit on the front step of Guero’s side of the house, taking a long drag. God, that was some nice weed. She coughed a few times, the usual, barky rasp associated with smoking weed, her throat tickling.  

“Yo!” She turned to see a large arm thrust through the window, a can of soda proffered forth. “If you don’t like mango then I can’t help you. Oh, hold up. I might have a Fanta somewhere.”  

Walking back over, she took the can. “Thanks, Tyrone. You keep your Fanta, mango and I are good.” She moved back to the step, opening the soda and sipping it, the tickle clearing nicely before she took another little puff, looking out across the street into the darkness. The only sounds audible were that of the game Tyrone was playing, and the chirp of cicadas. It was somewhat relaxing in ambience.  

The weed had an instant calming effect upon her, all of the brutality that would endlessly echo through her memories placated and pushed back again, back behind the fortress walls in her mind. She’d had to keep it there for years to have even had a chance of remaining sane through her ordeal. God, she couldn’t believe that she’d actually escaped it, found somebody who she could trust, someone who for all intents and purposes was slowly becoming all hers, too.  

“As if you’re out here getting high on my front step. Not even I do that.” Turning, she saw Guero emerge from the house, moving to sit behind her, his legs flanking her body as he stretched.  

“Well, that’s because you don’t smoke weed,” she chirped, watching him frown before plucking the joint from her.  

He took a few puffs, handing it back, holding in a cough until the tickle passed. “I do, but not often. It has too much of an effect on me, and I can never get the balance right.” 

“The balance between what?” 

“Between a nice buzz and ragingly horny.”  

“Ahh.” She nodded, looking entertained, the stoned giggled welling up within her. “I somehow don’t think you need any extra boosting in that department.” 

He moved her hair, kissing the side of her neck. “A hundred percent correct, mamacita. And since I guess you’re probably drunker now than you were earlier, I’m not risking that balance any further, so you finish it. Kinda figure you need the sedation after everything you told me.”  

“Oh, you’re not wrong there,” she spoke, eyes widening a little as she leaned back against him. “Even if I was sober, sharing all of that has kinda dampened my desire.”  

He snorted softly, arms tightening around her. “Understandable. S’okay, I can wait.” 

“Can you?” she giggled, the sound joining the noise of the cicadas. 

“Mm.” he hummed, kissing her neck again. “Just.”  

Just then, the curtains next door began moving, Tyrone’s boom sounding. “Goddamnit, will you two go back in that house and bust some furniture already? Shit!” They both snort laughed, Guero resting his forehead to her shoulder, Tyrone continuing. “You better sort yo’ damned mess, fuckboy! Because I am one pretty smile away from makin’ that fine assed lil’ honey mine, you hear?”  

“Yeah, I hear,” he called through his laughter, “and I see, too. Plying her with weed and soda.” 

“I know what the ladies like! If she’s still out here in a half hour, she gets the first slice of my pizza, too!” 

“Exactly, you gotta give me a head start against your half ton of raw charm, dog,” he chuckled, Tyrone emerging further from the curtains.  

“Hey, I might be a big fella, but I’m no fuckin’ half ton! I’m thick and juicy, drives the chicks wild!” 

“Tyrone, you ain’t thick, my man. Your ass is so fat, if I swerved my bike to miss you, I’d run outta gas.” There was a pause, a squawking laugh emanating from the window, Emma thinking it hilarious a man with such a low, rumbling voice had a laugh so high in pitch. All banter with their hilarious neighbour aside, they remained outside until she had finished the joint, heading back in and returning to bed.  

“Do you feel better for telling me everything?” 

Resting her head against his chest, she nodded, her nails tracing the outline of one of the spiderweb tattoos that spread out across each of his shoulders. “I do, you know. Whether the nightmares will stop because of it, I don’t know. I think I might need further help to recover from it all. Kinda scared about registering with a doctor, though, putting my name back out there. He’ll be looking for me, and if he finds any record of a twenty-nine-year-old woman named Emma Louise Taylor anywhere, he’ll come for me.” 

Her muscles stiffened at just the thought, Guero turning to wrap both arms around her, feeling her relax into his embrace after a few moments. “We’ll work something out.” She fell asleep in his arms, those early morning hours passing dreamlessly, neither waking until 10am the following morning.  

Rising from her place curled against him, Emma rubbed her eyes, looking down at the chiselled tattoo canvas that had been her pillow. Her safe person, the kind of man she’d dreamed would one day save her from her fate, and there he was... snoring like a brontosaurus. She couldn’t help but giggle softly, thinking that was a part perhaps not strictly included in the romanticism of her fantasies.  

He cracked an eye open, his grin widening. “What are you laughing at?” 

“Isn’t it obvious? The noise! You snore like something hell spat up for being too loud.” 

“I wasn’t snoring,” he began stretching, the other eye opening eventually. “I was doing mindful breathing.” 

Immediately, she cracked up, leaning to place a kiss against his stubbly jaw. “There’s nothing mindful about those sawn logs.” 

She had a point, he guessed, Guero turning onto his side and wrapping his arms around her. “Yeah, but I’m cute. I get away with it, don’t I?” 

“Yeah,” she agreed, turning her head back to kiss him, “you do have that going for you.” 

“And a whole lot more.”  

Biting the corner of her lip, she shifted against him, a little wiggle that stirred him exactly where she intended him to be stirred. “Feel like showing me?”  

“Mm.” His arms tightened around her, kisses scattered against the side of her neck. “I need coffee and a shower, then trust me, I’ll spend all morning showing you.” 

Now that was a statement definitely on a par with her fantasies. He left the bed first, taking a shower, calling to her that he’d left in on for her as he made his way through to the kitchen. It was while she was under the warm water looking down at herself that a stab of panic prickled against her guts.  

He’d see her naked. All of her. 

While she had body confidence in her shape, the littering of scars that marked her sides and lower back made her feel ugly. Some had faded to white, but there were still a few dark pink markings that remained. All were raised scar tissue, triangular shapes of knife points pressed into her skin, the burning brand of a hot blade searing Rocco’s displeasure branded onto her skin forever.  

As she dried off, her eyes found them again, wondering if they’d really be all too noticeable if the blinds remained drawn in the bedroom.  

“Of course, they will," she muttered, beginning to sniff. All she wanted was to move on from it all, enjoy the basic human right of a consensual sexual relationship with another adult, someone of her actual choosing, yet the literal scars of the past held her back.  

A soft tap sounded upon the partly open door. “Em, you want a coffee?” 

Em. No one had ever called her that before. She liked it. “No, thank you.” 

“You alright.” 

“Yeah.”  

Her pinched voice alluded to the contrary. “No, you’re not. Can I come in?”  

“Yeah.” Tightening the large, white bath towel around herself again, she wiped her eyes on the back of her hand, trying to compose her upset.  

“So, people who are alright stand here crying, huh?” Him and his smart mouth. He was right in his light sarcasm, though. “What’s wrong, baby?” 

Baby. He'd called her that back when he’d first found her. How different the intent behind the word was now. “The scars I have,” she began, gulping, hoping she could swallow down the lump she had painfully swelling in her throat. “You’ll see them, and they’re hideous. They make me ugly. You’ll think they look ugly.” 

He frowned, lifting her chin with a gentle touch of his fingers as he began shaking his head. “I’ve never liked people making my mind up for me. That includes you, mamas.” His hands pressed softly on her shoulders, resting his forehead against hers. “I’ve got no problem with whatever scars you have, and I’m not gonna think you’re ugly because of ‘em. Only thing that is, is that low opinion you have of yourself. If you want, leave a t shirt on. I don’t mind. I’d prefer you naked, but whatever makes you comfortable, I’m good with.” 

She could fetch a t shirt, or she could just be brave and let him see her. All of her. She’d bared her soul to him already, after all. Indecision made her heart quicken, the soft stroke of his fingertips at her upper arms soothing as she reached for the towel and untucked it, letting it fall. Fighting the urge to cover herself with her arms, she looked anywhere but him as he took in her nudity, her body tensing when he moved his hands to stroke the scars she detested so much with careful attention.  

Leaning close, he kissed the side of her head, his lips soft against her ear. “They aren’t who you are, and you’re not any less beautiful. They’re only the map of the journey that finally led you to me.”  

Her throat tightened with emotion, his words so beautiful, she wanted to cry. The desire in his eyes as she finally looked at him dictated it might be poorly timed, though. This was not a time for lament and sadness. No. This was the time to plant her lips upon his and let him carry her to the bedroom.  

[mchlgayser]

✸ it wasn't intended ft blue lock men

synopsis: An argument broke between you and them, but it was most definitely (un)intentional for them to shout and throw spiteful words your way.

─── ୨୧ warning: angst + no happy ending, languages, arguments, and slight toxicity

─── ୨୧ notes: I will do this very first part with my favorite characters first (I'm biased) and then will continue with the other characters, you guys can comment on any specific chacs you like and I'll try to do it no promise (I might do this up to two or three parts only lol)

ISAGI YOICHI:

It's rarely happens, the time you both got into a fight. Isagi is rather composed, and collected most of the time but these days - all thanks to the facility that's been doing nothing but feed his ego, he is rather the opposite.

Not 360° all the way but you can see the change of demeanor, he is maturing since the last time you saw him, which is before he got into the facility. That's good news but it made you lowkey missed the old Isagi. You could try and spend some time with him but it's hard because his mind will play a loop of new strategies and techniques he's building for his next game. It was bearable, at first.

But the more his mind is occupied with it, the more you felt left out. You try talking to him about it once or twice but as always, it fell in to the right and and fell out of left.

That is until one day, you decided you had enough! He calls you for accompany, shouldn't he at least make up time for you? Even for a minute? No, he decided to still be the villain and ignored you, hands occupied to a bullpen, mind for ways to suppress everyone.

"You shouldn't bother texting me to come you know?' You suck in your teeth realizing that you've been ignored, once more

'For God's sake, I'm talking to you!' The sudden outburst noisily interrupted him 'Should've declined my offer, then.' He barks back, eyes glued to his front 'Oh, my God! You've turned from a complete nice guy to a jerk, a total big jerk.' You half-yell at him, and finally, the long-awaited attention is towards you

'Can you shut the hell up, I need company not a mother to nag me all around but since you decided otherwise maybe you can leave and stop bothering me.' That, that hurts.

'I can't believe you, you know that? I've been here all this month rooting for you and your sickening dream and this is how you repay me? I'm not asking much, just simple attention from you yet you can't afford that but instead, you lashed it out back at me like I'm the one at fault.' Hot, and warm tears begin accompanying your cheeks, you try your best to keep them away from plunging but it kept falling like an endless rain.

For a wink, you could see a twinge of regret in his eyes but his actions and his words never flatter 'Fine, leave and stop bothering you? I will.' He watches. He watches as you pick your stuff up, he watches as you slam his bedroom door open and he watches your hand slip him with a mere inch. He watches you leave and stop bothering him.

OLIVER AIKU:

How many times has it been? First at the mall, second at a private karaoke bar, third at one of his matches, and this? the fourth, perhaps the fifth, worst of it all inside your Goddamn house. Your one-year-old month boyfriend is caught cheating with you. They were playing games at your Nintendo switch. As a person who could not tolerate getting your stuff snoop around, you didn't waste another second throwing your heavy bag to her head eliciting pain screaming.

Aiku shot from his seat dropping the woman in the process and your Nintendo fell to the hard ground. You throw a dagger at the slightly shorter woman, pointing out to the door 'Get. Lost.' She picks up her scattering stuff and leaves with a screech when you do the slapping motion her way

'We need to talk.' You grumble he could barely make it, he hums legs man-spread waiting for you to speak further 'Why?' It was inaudible, below a whisper, had he not paid attention to you he would miss it but the eat-shit grin never wipe off his face knowing he'll get out of this mess sooner or later.

He loves you, yes but wasn't enough to make sure he won't cheat. You are nothing like the girls he's with, you are different in your ways but the urge to always never be faithful laces behind him - but you are always kind enough to never push him off even after countless times he cheated on you and that's why, right now he is not scared. Not scared of losing you, the only one who can love and understand him.

'I don't know...' That three words are enough to completely shatter every last dignity in you and to finally stop being an idiot and get your heart plays every time.

'I've done nothing but forgive you, yet you still cheated on me with another girl-' You rambles

'Not another, it's the same girl-' Your body moves before your brain could digest, and your hand place right on his cheek leaving a red print that his bottom lip bleeds slightly from the harsh impact.

'I hate you.' His grin drops from his face, and the smug smirk on his face fell effortless at your words, the words he's familiar with to other women but so strange from you. That simple but harsh words indicating him that he's fucked up, badly this time.

His whole form jolted your way but your eyes remained to the ground 'I'm leaving.' You finally said after a moment of intense silence.

You get up and try to leave but the firm grip on your wrist prevents you from doing so 'Where are you going?' You swat his hand away 'Fuck you, Aiku. Fuck you, fuck your girls, and fuck this stupid relationship.'

BAROU SHOEI:

You don't exactly remember how this argument even started. You remember arriving home, taking shower, and doing your work when Barou slam the door of your private study room, all angry, veins popping out at the side of his temple.

And you do remember your boyfriend being an absolute clean-freak.

'Was it so important? I just asked you to take the fucking trash out, God damn it!' Ah, you remembered now, that morning he had asked you to take out the trash when you got home after work but you forget 'And I said I forgot! Seriously, what's wrong with you?! It's just a fucking trash, go and take it out yourself!' More veins popping out of his face.

'You are so useless, you peasant. It's just a simple task but you can't do it. All you do is lie down all day and procrastinate like a fucking turtle. Seriously, is there anything you good at?!' His words are harsher than he intended. It was spiteful and sharp like a knife. The form of the act to look tough just as much as he did fall crumble to the palm of his calloused hand.

'You are so mean. What do you mean by 'procrastinate'? I've been stressing over deadlines and working all-day, do you bother asking?' You feel the desire to kick him, punch him and slap him for saying that but you fight every bone and fiber in you not to as to not make the situation worse.

'I'm tired enough playing slave at works but not at home too..' You sighed, your head throbs in pain and agony but you composed yourself with exhales and inhales.

'But maybe if you desire someone to do everything you asked for, you should go and hire a maid not a girlfriend, you selfish idiot.' You purposely bump your shoulder on him, leaving him in the room to himself.

NAGI SEISHIRO:

Hassle. Another hassle. More Hassle. Is it even a hassle anymore? more like a burden. A burden you had to carry. A burden you lift off to save this pointless relationship.

At first, you find it cute, anyone would but after months of living together, it became sort of like a responsibility. A responsibility you aren't ready to commit. Each day becomes worse, so worse that you sometimes became doubtful if you can go through the day, alive.

'Seishiro, why is everything scattering around?' You implied to the scattered chips, cans of sodas, and the CDs of games 'Eh, it was a hassle to pick it up.' He mentioned, hands continuing to type in the controller 'Sei, we've talked about this. You shouldn't turn the house upside down.'

'But it wasn't upside down though...?' You had to stop your words to take a long breath to compose yourself from cursing out at him 'No matter what it is, you shouldn't mess stuff around. Clean it.' You put your bag down and take a towel to bath 'Make sure everything's done when I finished showering.'

Indeed not. The boy won't listen, no matter how loud you shouts at him, no matter how hard you are on him, he will never budge

'Seishiro, what did I tell you about-' You notice the headphone on his head, you can even hear the song he's playing knowing how loud he just set his volume to. You snatch the headphone off his head with an angry look 'Pick up the mess you made.' He rolls his eyes at you, the faint 'K.O' sound from the television heard not long after he set down his controller.

'Why don't you clean it yourself? It's a hassle for me to do it. There's so much...' He complained, legs crossed with his eyes on you. His sharp eyes bore into you, probably creating a dagger of a bullet if you hadn't spoken any further to switch his attention to 'Listen, it wasn't me who go around and did this mess. It's you, and that's why you should do it.' He clicks his tongue in annoyance, well that's new coming from him

'You are such a hassle. So annoying...' He scratched his head in attempt to reduce his annoyance 'I'm annoying. No you are. You are a hassle. I am not your mom to go and clean up after your mess Seishiro. Think wisely before you speak from the idiotic, and lazy mouth of yours.' You pointed out, your point finger merely an inch from his face, ready to stab his face with it.

'Until you clean this whole a lot of mess you've done. Don't call me, I'm staying at a friend's.' He wanted to call for you but something is holding him back - it wasn't a hassle he felt, for once.

EITA OTOYA:

He wasn't like this at first. He is pretty calm, relaxed, and laid-back when you both first dated but nowadays - he is still the way he is but not with you. With everyone else, yes but not with you. With you, he changed. He's becoming cold, and sarcastic all the time. But this minimum change in him never succeeded to make you hate him instead, you grew worried. Is there something you've been doing wrong? Is it your appearance that made his change? Why won't he say anything?

You know how risky it is to date him, after all, you knew him from way back. Otoya is a playboy, a guy who dates half of the girl population in school. But was that enough to stop you from taking a liking to him? No. It's sicker when you confessed to him and he accepted you right away.

It's even sicker when he told you he's been eyeing you for quite some time. That's why you are in this relationship with him now even though it's secreted from the public eye.

You snap out of your thoughts when a controller is pushed your way, your sibling who had just finished their show giving the remote to you 'Your boyfriend is doing an interview today right?' You thank them with a smile as you switch the channel to sports ones. It shows that the media is now preparing for a press conference with the Barcha's FC man of the match, which is your boyfriend. You could spot him at the back, his green strand stood out from the rest as he began treading to his table and sat down, ready to answer the media's question.

It was going well, they were asking your boyfriend - well questions that related to football but not until a female reporter came and ask him about you - technically, your relationship 'Is it true that you've got yourself a girlfriend?' The reporter asked, 'Is she coming today? Would you describe her and what she's like?' She continues further on, adding fuel to the fire.

You began not feeling comfortable in your seat, anticipating the answer your boyfriend will prepare 'No, no I haven't got myself a girlfriend, with my career that is important ta' but ta' have a girlfriend is just not it, it's too tiresome. So I'm pretty much available right now.' He winks to the camera earning a few laughs from the audience. But, was it funny? It wasn't funny to get your heart stomped on like that by the person you trust with every molecule in your body.

You decided that it was enough and switched off the channel. On cue, your sibling got out of the bathroom 'Can I stay overnight?' You watch them giving you a suspicious look 'What happened?' You shake your head at them, dismissing the idea completely to talk about this, right now.

'I'm just too tired to drive,' They step closer to you plopping down on the couch 'I can call Otoya to pick you up?' You rapidly declined the idea, giving them a small believable smile before you - leisurely, got up 'I'm gonna go and have a bath.' You thank them for indirectly letting you stay for the day and tread to the guest room.

Your sibling watches as your figure disappears inside the room, shrugging to themselves.

It was late at night, strike twelve yet you were still up, eyes wide like a fish. Your hands cross on top of your stomach tapping a rhythm to find the need to doze off but your mind decided to play tricks on you by looping the interview you watched that evening. Your mind is hazy and your eyes are teary. Otoya never left a message after the interview ended. Is he not scared you might watch the interview, how come he didn't update anything? Can he at least say that it was a lie?

But nope, you don't know what happened to the boy after the interview.

You keep tossing around to sleep when out of nowhere the bedroom door of the guest room burst open. You jolted in bed, thinking the possibly worst of all but upon seeing the stood-out green strand and white hair, your whole form relaxed but then, you realized why you are in this state at the first place.

You spot your sibling by the door doing the 'what's going on?' gestures with their hands 'You can leave...' You encourage them, watching as they are reluctant to leave but leave nonetheless.

'Close the door, I don't want them to hear us...' Otoya is in disbelief not liking the way you are talking but obliged.

'Why didn't yer' come home? I was waiting fer' ya, thank God yer' sibling called me...' You sighed, sitting down at the edge of the bed and feeling the mattress dip under your shape 'That's rich coming from you when you told the world about how having a girlfriend is 'tiresome'.' You watch his eye twitch in irritation.

'I did what I was supposed to, I don't want them ta' know about us?'

'Why not? No, really, why not? Why didn't you want them to know? I mean it's been a while since we are dating so don't you think it is finally time or is it because you are bored of me now? Because that explains why you've been ignoring me these past few weeks.' His Adam's apple bops up and down gulping down a huge lump at the back of his throat.

'I...'

'Don't you dare lie to me, Eita.' You point a finger his way in a threatening manner 'Yer' right. I don't know Y/n. I don't think I see any future heck even a tomorrow in this relationship. My career is so important ta' me, I don't see myself can focus on anything else but football at this time. I don't want to hurt yer' by breaking up witcha but I just don't feel it anymore... M' sorry.' You scoff, feeling the urge to choke him so hard he loses consciousness.

'Don't apologize if you didn't truly mean it. It still doesn't justify your actions to treat me like one of your exes. I'm hurt Eita, hurt because I know you meant what you said during your interview. At least try and be a little nice with your way of talking shit about me.' You huff in disappointment

'So I think we can end this now, get out!' He flinches at the sudden spurt but he stays under composure 'I said. Leave.' You pointed out at the door gesturing him to walk up which he did after a moment of hesitation.

'I hope I can see you around. My sibling will walk you to the door.' You close the bedroom door, immediately creating a barrier between him and you.

MICHAEL KAISER

One thing about Kaiser being in a relationship is he always thinks men are superior. He's the 'woman stays in the kitchen to serve men sandwiches' type of guy and that didn't make any difference with you. Of course, at first, you obliged like a good girl of his, after all that's what he wants in a girl, an obedient girl - and you fit the spot just perfectly. But after months you think it becomes sort of like a master and maid kind of relationship minus the fact you two eat, sleeps, shower, and get intimate. It was something you can bare for a long period of time but within time, he became overly comfortable with the way you are.

And that pissed you off. Kaiser is sweet at a time, but most of the time he is his usual self, arrogant, rude, and vain. The way he talks to you sometimes also adds salt to the wound.

'And what exactly is my job, Kaiser?!' He shrugs, his looks staying unbothered 'To serve me, take care of me,' He swirls the wine inside the wine cup before he takes a sip. You scoff in disbelief 'I am not your fucking maid. I'm your girlfriend for fuck's sake!' He sighs putting down the wine cup 'Look, why do you suddenly complain? Why now, I thought you are fine being my maid-girlfriend' He emphasized the word 'maid' with one brow cock 'You are an asshole, you know that?' A deep chuckle slips his lips in pure amusement 'Tell me something I don't know.' He challenged, one hand now propping to his knee and his chin, looking at you with a mock confused look

'You never change, do you? Always thinking you are superior to anyone else but... I'm your girlfriend, Kaiser. Can't you at least be nice, even for a little? It's that little I'm asking for you.'

'What can I say, Y/n? Am a narcissistic fuck and that won't change even for you, I mean who are you?' He laughs picking back up the wine to drink it in one go 'You are not different than the rest of that mediocrities I'm with, just identical.' The way those hurtful words coming out from him like it cost him nothing brings instant tears to your eyes

'You are so ignorant.' You push the urge to break down in front of him as you turn your heels around to walk away 'Where are you going?' He asked gripping your waist and hugging you from behind 'Let me go,' He tighten his grasp on you so close you can feel his head shake a no.

'Not gonna happen,' 'Kaiser, let me-' A broken sob left your mouth, and that's when he finally lets go to turn you around so you are facing him 'Y/n...' You finally get the chance to push past him and huff 'Don't call my name,' You strut to your room and close the door, locking him behind.

[fantomette22]

Hey, happy birthday!! It's hard to believe that this is the second time, I am so glad that we've stuck together for so long! This was a fantastic year! I want to show you something that unfortunately has to wait (I must disappoint you though, it is NOT Gehrman's big naturals :sob: ), but as for right now: thank you for all this time and for your support, for being the nicest person in the fandom and THE small artists guy! I am so glad that you've still got it in you to be a good presence for both this hellsite and for your friends despite college having kicking your ass harder this year! You deserve a big cake, and a big set of colors in your pens. I hope I'll have the chance to mail you art supplies and traditionally made gift card as gifts one day when this Hell opens its gates. But at least, this Hell is more bearable with a friend like you!

Aww thank you so so much friend!!! 🥺

Yeah don’t worry i can wait! Also pfff i had to restrain myself from burst out laughing in class when i read « Gehrman’s big naturals » 😂 help my fault i know. But I wouldn’t be against really 😏 But wait if i had to choose normal Gehrman is very fine!!!!! Help 💀

Anyway. Thank you for being around too! Really. I’m so glad you and the other are around or life will be really lonely and very less fun. It really means a lot. ❤️You got it way harsher than I and you really deserved so much better and i really hope the tables turned in your favor. We’ll found a way.

And some days on this hellsite it’s not easy but i try! And it’s easier with you around. I’m also almost done with studies yeah!!!! I believe x_x But yeah i am far from home my family and many irl friends aren’t around so support from my friends online means a lot ❤️

Yeah and don’t worry it must be very complicated and expensive for you to send things out but hey i guess I could try to send things via mail to you x) already do it with a whole package for a friend nothing scare me now 😂

[gaykarstaagforever]

Midsommar (2019)

Too bad it's Midsommar and not S-tier Sommar, amirite??

That's unfair. It's better than that. Barely.

This is my first A24 movie. I expected more of a creepy arthouse vibe. Instead I kept having flashbacks to 2017's The Ritual, another movie with an interesting central conceit that undercut it with too many "shocking" set pieces. This movie is better than that one, but they certainly share the same ineffective vibe.

It's just too goofy. I spent half the movie laughing at either the sheer ridiculousness of whatever was going on, or where I guessed they were taking things. And I was always right. This feels like a screenplay I wrote 10 years ago and then went, "Eh. This has sort of gotten away from me. It's just kind of stupid now."

The production design and cast are good, and I like the score. It is a competent Hollywood-style movie. And as a gratuitous B-movie, it is okay. It is about a half-hour too long because it is paced like a bad conversation; it has to beat us in the face with a mallet (ho, ho!) to make sure we pick up every point, I guess because it thinks we're stupid? Or whoever wrote it was on Adderall and just couldn't let any scene go without triple-confirming to themselves whatever point was being made. Either way, it doesn't let anything breathe. And that is only bearable because so much of this is, again, very goofy. There isn't much to "get."

There are video essays and articles "explaining" this movie. ...To whom? Why? What the hell did you miss, that the movie didn't laboriously point out to you? I am kind of shocked that someone watched this and was like, "That was over my head. These scenes should have been longer, with more ham-fisted allegorical layering."

I'm making it sound worse than it is. But it also is what it is. And what it is, is a movie by people who said, "Wicker Man was good and creepy and killed just one guy. If we do like 9, that will be WAY scarier!" And they did that. And, of course, it isn't. Because you guys clearly missed the point of The Wicker Man.

I had thought to call this "Wes Anderson's Wicker Man," because Ari Aster certainly has stylistic things in common with Wes Anderson. But I feel like an actual Wes Anderson Wicker Man remake would have more to say about SOMETHING than Midsommar does.

Look. Straight monogamous people can make movies, too. I'm sure they have stuff to reflect on over there. I just don't appreciate whatever that is. Anything along those lines that I got from Midsommar do not paint these people or their world in a positive light. My final assessment on any message here is, "Man. Straight Americans are very lonely, and frustratingly weird and selfish about sex." And as I am an American, sure, we are indeed all that, I understand. But why go to all this trouble to say THAT?

Was that the intent? I doubt it.

Again. It's fine. It's a fun and funny B-movie, with good gore. It would have been better if it had really leaned into all that, because it is all the pretentions to profundity that fall flat.

Oh and the blood eagle? Really? What, is this a rule that any American movie about creepy Scandinavians has to show a guy flayed-out in a barn? You know that probably wasn't even a real thing they did, right? And you didn't even do anything interesting with it here.

I guess, in the end, we can take from this that, if you are invited to a thing that is a bunch of pretty white people in white robes, just get back in the car and leave. I know, you think you can get some fun out of it. But you won't. You never, ever will. Trust me.

Also. You idiots made we wait the ENTIRE movie for weird sex stuff...and THAT was it? That's all you had? That wasn't anything. Maybe some monacles popped in Nebraska churches over that. But give me a break. That wasn't worth anything. Especially not the deranged way Florence Pugh's character overreacts to it.

...I'm talking myself into liking this less. It's FINE. If you loved it, good for you.

You can have it.

[speakyskelly-1999]

okay so

kill la kill

i watched kill la kill when i was 15 and i loved

i rated it a 9 on mal

it was the show that got be back into anime

(i initially watch one good show and then quite a few mid ones and so stopped watching for a while and then when this came to netflix i watched it and afterwards cowboy bebop and well the rest is history)

becvause i liked it so much and because it had a good reputation, my friend who was getting into anime tried it

and she hated it

it's so far the only anime she dropped

she subsiquently asked me why i liked it so much and then told me to watch it again now and erm

yea it's not aged well

as a side track

i like to say i have a good memory and i do. most media i can recall pretty easily. the main factor on recal being how long it's been since i watched something, and even then if i start rewatching a thing i can often remeber how the rest of it will pan out after watching a small percentage of it

with that in mind i did only watch the first episode and scan through the rest of the series so this "rewatch review" (honestly i can't even really call it that, let me know if you think i should re watch it properly and give my full thoughts on it) is gonna be far from perfect but like enough for what i'm going for

oh and spoilers from this point on

so for my previous memory of the show i love mako, ryuuko, and satsuki and on looking at it again i remembered how much i liked ira. i think all thoes characters fun and i still like them. i don't think i really have any issues with them. the music girl and the tech guy are two characters in my mind that i remeber liking somewhat but finding issues with them but i don't remember what. the other thing i really like from it was the dumb plot twist of clothes are an alien race trying to ensalve humanity by (and i think this is right i could be wrong. reading has always been difficult for me and, while i've improved over the years, i can still miss a lot of plot stuff when they suddenly dump it on me in anime. note of i watch mainly subs which is why i struggle. i tend to not like dubs) getting people to ware clothes. i also really liked how vibrent the show was and again on scanning through it again i remembered the really cool stills and artistic choices they made.

and i think thats were the positive part of this "retrospective" ends

erm yea so i think even as a kid i was initially weirded out by how little ryuuko wore but when they explained 'oh more the skin you show the stronger you are' i just accepted it and hell i was 15 and most of the characters were 15 i just let it wash over me. NOW THO man it makes me feel really uncomfy. and like i'm somewhat desensities to this stuff cos, lets be real here folks, anime can have quite a bit of that kind of stuff. either depending on when it came out or it's genre, writers, intended audience etc. but like ryuuko is initially really uncomfortable showing this much skin. and like i know she comes to accept it, and as a teen i just accpeted that she was fine with it, but Now i'm like she should never have had to accept that, she's FITHTEEN.

AND IT REALLY DOESN'T HELP THAT SENKETSU IS TOO INTO IT. like i get that he's trying to make her stronger and he wants to eat her blood or whatever. but like it's so weird. i think as a kid i just chose to ignore it/became desencitised to it/could read it properly but i did also not like him. so much so that i forgot he could fucking talk, hell was even sentient, till i rewatch the first episode. like if senketsu was a woman it would have been better. NOT BY MUCH, but idk it feel a little more bearable to me now if i was gonna rewatch it.

i don't even really want to mention ryuuko and satsuki's mother. can i just not think about it. she was disguysting to me as a kid and i hated her and what she did to not only ryuuko, satsuki, her husnabd and the pink girl (what the fucks her name nui) has always started with me (even if the exact details of what she did from my memory vary from charcter to character) and i'm glad she died. i'm not gonna go into wwhat she did and the order of characters is not in an order of which thing is he to them i find most ogreegous. i just. imma move on i can't deal with that bitch

what else... oh yea i forgot how pervy mako's dad brother and dog is towards ryuuko. that sucks.

there are other reasons that it now just kinda makes me uncomfortabnle. again i might rewatch it to get my full thoughts on it but like idk if i should. let me know if you think i should comit to the bit

but like so now

now i don't know what to do. it's had been one of my favoruites fro ages and it was like the first one i put on my mal favorites list. i had to take it of cos like it can no longer hold that placxe in my heart now cos it makes me feel icky. it sucks re watching a show and thinking it's not that bad, my was a little weird in places but shows from then were like that, and then finding out it's so much worse than you remember.

whats really bezarre is that i don't know if i can recomend itanymore. like the my friend who watched and dropped it can handle like wierd scenes, some nudity, darker topcis, the works. i can handle a little less than them but still a lot (liike i watched the worse parts of elfen leid before stopping and that was beceuase it was doing all these things with nothing to say about it. it was just to be edgey) but this just both of us just feel so aaaaah now

i think watching it at 15 and having thoes 5 years of really likeing it was fine. like i think 15 is probaly the only age i could have watched it at for me to enjoy it as much as i did. i'll still hold ryuuko, mako ans satsuki in my heart as i really liked their charcters (hell ages ago i considered getting ryuuko and satsuki's figures in their normal school uniforms, or the ones in the last end credit scene when everything is hunky dory again. NOT and i repeat NOT their fighting outfits) but ultimatly the shows not aged well and even for the time they should have made from different creative choices

[notcouchtato2398]

Summer’s Over

What do you mean this all has to go? But this was always meant to go to the new house. I don’t even know what’s all in here. A lot of it looks like drafts or letters from somebody else.

-well the new house never happened so it has to go-

But the funeral was yesterday! There is still so much left to do, I wanted to check in on a few friends.

-They can drop by and help you, if you want my help I can get you their phone numbers and order you guys food-

You’re not helping? You’re the one who wants this done by Friday.

-Yea I have a realtor coming in the weekend and construction crew the Monday after that. I have other things to do you know.-

I took time off work for this!

-And now I have to make sure the estate is handled. Once we sell the house you will get your part, of course the construction work and fees will be taken out-

So that’s it? You don’t tell me what’s happening, expect me to take 3 planes, a 2 hour drive to get here, and expect me to come and clean up the house. What will you be doing while I am this by the way?

-Talking with lawyers and finalizing details for the renovations.-

Fantastic, awesome to hear that. Will you go golfing in between too? Why the fuck can’t you help? Too much work for you?

-Actually yes it is. I lived here for the past 2 years while you were off doing who the fuck knows what, never calling and took care of things. Made sure that they had company and that they weren’t alone in the end-

You know you could have left right? You didn’t have to stay, you could have left, just like you are now.

-Well not everybody was as “Brave and courageous” as you were. Someone had to stay-

No you didn’t, nobody asked you. They were horrible, they were abusive, you know I am still going to therapy for what they did to us. Why on earth did you stay? To get an apology from them? Last I heard from them I was receiving invoices from them for things I asked when I was 5. There is no way, absolutely that you stayed because you loved them.

-Why I stayed is between me and them, it has nithing to do with you.-

Yes it does. Because now that they are gone you are pushing all the labor to me and go to enjoy being the adult. Is this payback? Your petty way of showing you did more than me? If it is go right ahead, I can throw all these things to the dump on my way out, you can help with that right? Just 10 minutes to load it in my car and done.

-You want to get rid of it all?-

Well I came back to check up on you and hear if you wanted help with anything. But clearly you want to draw lines in the sand for some reason. So yea, if it means I get to enjoy 2 days off knowing my work won’t ask questions you bet I will take them.

-I can call them y’know-

Like I told anybody around where I work.

-And that is why I want you to suffer, you come and go as you please, cutting everyone out of your life if you don’t like them. You act like people in this town are so below you, but you always try to forget you are from here. Not just that, you come from the worst family in town. People who were so lazy that they never even bothered to ask each other which lie caused which bruise. So if you want you can leave, but remember that nobody here is beneath you. They all put up with us far too long-

Have you ever wondered that the reason why I loathe them has to do with the fact that they “put up with us”? They KNEW it was happening, but did not even bother to do anything about it, they just made things bearable enough that we would stop mentioning the cops. And when they were in the mend they made sure to remind us how much beneath them we were from them. It could have been stopped, but they just let it happen. Much better to have one shitty family for years than a few uncomfortable days with cops and CPS.

-So you left, gave a mailing address to make sure it was hard to track you, changed your phone and name.-

Better to start from nowhere than come from what was hell to me. And don’t worry, the box is still open. I just stopped checking it. Reading those letters made me want to close altogether, I have to admit that. Did they really expect me to come back after writing all of that?

-Just that?-

What, of course just that. They would send cards to arrive on their birthdays, Christmas and the anniversary of when I left. If they wanted money they would write me those crappy inboxes for food or cereal I asked. I will give it to them, the envelopes were always nice.

-Stop lying, there was more than that.-

Why would I lie about it? They sent me just that. You never wrote me, so my reason to check the box stopped altogether.

-But I wrote to you-

No you didn’t

-YES I DID! Don’t you dare lie to me you bastard, I wrote to you for years! I went every Thursday after school to the post office to ask if I had any letters and send you one.-

I don’t know what to tell you, I never got them.

-But you did get all their shit huh? All that they sent, and not a single thing I sent.-

No, I swear. I just thought you weren’t allowed to write me. And writing you a letter is what caused them to start sending me letters.

-No you didn’t, I never got anything. I was there every time they checked the mail and you never sent anything once. I was the one who sent the envelopes! I would spend hours drawing on them. They… they just got your mailing information from the post office…-

Now you remembered who always helped them keep things under wraps. Here. This is the first letter I got from them, it always felt weird to me that it looked torn open already. I kept it all these years, spent so much time looking for a hidden message from you.

-Every so often however a letter from you would arrive, different from the others, no hate or anything, saying that you would take me camping. You have no idea how many afternoons I waited for you to pick me up. They lied to me, they told me you hated me. I just wanted to hear back from you, I didn’t know. They told me that I just had to leave it at the post office and ask for letters from you. I never thought to ask more about it.-

That I did write to you, only I asked that they send you to visit on a bus, I barely had enough money to plan those trips. Heck I waited so many nights and mornings at the terminal for you, hoping that the bus got delayed or you might have needed to take a different one. So not only did they use you to make the letters nice, to pay the postage, and send me pointless letters that made me not want to write back. Eventually they got good enough to breaking into them that they stopped harming the letter itself.

-No they wouldn’t, they had good in them, they showed it to me. They wouldn’t do that to me, they showed me the letters you wrote back. How you never wanted to come back, how you hated everyone. How much you were glad you never had to deal with me. But I still wanted to see you, I kept writing you until I was 23. After that I couldn’t write to you anymore, they sometimes told me to write you, but they seemed happy to not have to worry about me sending letters to someone who hated me.-

I swear I never got a letter from you. Wait, were your letters in the box?

-What box?-

The one I told you about, I never kept things written down in here, they always looked into that, do you think those are your letters?

-They can’t be, they kept them? Why?-

Told you. Too lazy to agree in the lie they were telling.

-Don’t you fucking dare, what tells me you didn’t put all the letters there.-

Aside from the fact that I got here yesterday, you saw the size of the car I rented and that we both like our things to be organized I don’t have anything else.

-No, they wouldn’t have. They couldn’t. They swore to me that they were just as expectant to hear something more than curses from you.-

…

…

…

-Say something!-

I missed you so much, and I know I can’t undo what they did to us. I sure as hell would like to try. Will you at least let me organize our letter to each other?

-Just let me order some pizza, the lawyer can wait-

[alternatefandom]

Ladies and gentlemen, it is with great pleasure I announce that your esteemed blogger now officially holds a master's in business administration.

[r0b1ns]

LUCAS SINCLAIR X MALE READER

Couldn't find any Lucas x male reader fics so I wrote one myself, as he's one of my favorites.

If someone wants a part 2 just ask I'll gladly continue it! Hope you enjoy

PART 1, part 2

CW: one or two curse words?

WORD COUNT: 1.2K+

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You were new to Hawkins High

You and your family moved to town not too long ago, and you had to start your second highschool year just a few days after.

You decided to walk to school to get familiar with the town, you don't live far anyway.

You were nervous, didn't know anybody or where everything was. It wasn't your first year so everyone probably had friends, and they wouldn't want you to burst into their groups.

You made it to the school gates, there were so many people, it was over helming, but you couldn't do anything about it, so you just accepted it.

You didn't have to go to the principal, as you already got your schedule, but you were still late to the first class.

The classes were boring, it was the first day of the school year, and every teacher either spent all the time that had to introductions, or simply presented the class what the materials are for the following year.

You were one of the first ones to the cafeteria, the food didn't look so good, but your stomach were growling so you didn't have any choice.

There was an empty table, well not entirely empty, two guys were sitting next to each other, but it was the best option. As you set you observed the two guys in front of you; they were both wearing the same shirt, "HELL FIRE CLUB". You guessed the club was in school, as they were wearing it in school.

After a few minutes, more people came to the table, and you were now sitting at a full table.

It was bearable, until a boy, who looks a little younger than you said there would be a game tonight, and a guy named Lucas couldn't come. The long hair guy looked irritated, and started doing a weird speech, so you got out of there.

The rest of the classes were the same, and all you wanted to do is flop on your bed and watch your favorite movie, but you wished for it too early.

When you came home, your mother called you to the kitchen, she claimed she had something to tell you.

"Your father is meeting with his new boss and his wife, we offered to serve a dinner at our house, so be prepared" she said with a stern voice

Shit. You really didn't have the energy to sit hours in a chair, and listen to your father talk about work. You had to think of something, you couldn't stay in your room, your mother wouldn't let you, so the only option was to go out. But where?

You didn't know the place, didn't know anyone you could spend the evening with...Oh! The game the weird guys were talking about, it's tonight.

"Actually mom we have a school event tonight, I have to be there, so I can't stay with you" technically it wasn't a lie.

"Oh ok than, be back at 10 understood?"

"Yes mom" you walked to your room to take a shower, it was a hot day.

At 7:00 PM you were out of your door, you only changed your shirt, there is no point in wearing different pants, they're not dirty.

When you entered the gym, it was already full. You sat at one of the higher rows.

You didn't particularly played any sports, but you enjoyed watching other people play.

When the players entered you noticed a guy with the name 'Sinclair' on his shirt. This was the guy the group from the cafeteria mentioned. You heard from the speech guy.

He was nice looking, kinda tall, dark skin, curly hair, fit. You couldn't help but watch him all throughout the game, he was also the one to score the winning point to the team. But you didn't have the chance to talk to him, as him and his teammates went celebrating somewhere.

As you were laying in your bed, you couldn't stop thinking about him, great,you developed a crush on the first day of school. He was probably popular, and hang out with the jocks. You hoped it'll go away, he's probably straight anyway.

-------------

The next day at school you actually started learning stuff, and not just saying your name and sharing you favorite animal or food. Speaking of food, you sat at the same spot you sat last day at the cafeteria. Someone tapped your shoulder

"Excuse me, can you move one spot please, if it's not a problem, I want to sit next to them" it was Lucas, he pointed to the boys you sat with the day before

"Oh yeah of course, sorry" you said and moved one sit to the left, so he could sit between you and his friends

"No problem, thank you" he had a nice voice, you thought "I'm Lucas Sinclair by the way, I haven't seen you around here before, are you new?"

"Oh yeah it's only my second day here. I'm (name)" you smiled "by the way I saw you last night at the game, you saved your team"

"Oh thank you haha" he looked surprised "it's actually my first time playing in a real game" he said with an awkward smile

"Than I'm glad I saw this specific game" WHAT ARE YOU DOING, flirting with a guy who's probably straight, and probably has a girlfriend

But he smiled, maybe you had a chance after all?

The rest of the "meal", if you could call this thing on your play a meal, was silent. Well, not silent, but at least you and Lucas didn't talk much.

You did occasionally steal glances at each other, but none of you dared talking to one another.

That night you decided to go to the arcade. A girl who sat next to you in class told you about it. It was a 15 minute walk from your house. When you got there you were surprised to see Lucas. He was with a girl.

You felt your stomach twist. You didn't even know him, you didn't have any right to react like that, but before you could go somewhere else he noticed you and waved you to come.

Oh god.

"Hi (name), this is Max, she's in my year, Max this is (name), he's new here" he introduced you to the girl, who you know now as Max

She smiled at you but didn't say anything.

"Soo...are you here alone?" Lucas asked you

"Yes, I don't really have any friends yet" you were embarrassed to say that, but that's the truth.

"Wanna play with us? I will teach you if you don't know how, I'm really good at this game" he offered

"Oh I don't wanna interrupt you guys"

"It's fine we're just hanging out" Max said

"Ok than"

It was fun, in fact very fun.

You learned that Lucas and the club he's in, the hell fire club, is a D&D club. You heard about this, but never actually played. It sounded too complicated for you.

"You want me to teach you? I have free time, and it's not so complicated, it just sounds hard" you didn't really want to, but you said yes just to hang out with him more

"Great! Tomorrow at 7 PM at mine ok?"

"Yeah sure"

We separated our own ways, and as soon as your head hit the pillow you.... barley slept. Couldn't stop thinking about tomorrow, and how hard it'll be to focus on the game, and not look at Lucas Sinclair.

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!gif is not mine!