#ended: 8:46pm

[deuxac]

05/09/22 - monday, 7:56pm

listening to: les - childish gambino

cw: drugs, pet death, s/h (ng) below ‘keep reading’

!: minors dni

somehow i can’t seem to remember much of anything anymore. if i want to keep important dates saved i have to put them in my calendar, like anniversaries and paydays and birthdays and stuff, which i feel is normal anywayz since we’re all prone to forget, but it’s like... if i don’t write what happened in that very moment that it’s happening, i’m not gonna remember the event, yk? which is probably why i post so much on my spam abt how my day’s been and what i did and the like. even though most of it is incomprehensible, i can still understand what im trying to say, like it triggers the memory back in my brain again even if nothing is being recalled. it’s more like i remember writing about the event more than i remember the event itself, ykwim? it’s kinda inconvenient though bc i have the tendency to leave out the bad parts of the memory bc i do write these posts in a public space (regardless of how many people actually find this), so we have a mishmash of... whatever

i don’t remember much of what i did yesterday, since it was sunday and sundays i usually spend doing nothing but waiting for the next day to start so i can pass the time doing something. i don’t really have much motivation to finish school at this point, and my brain has such a hard time processing information that i doubt going back to school will accomplish anything other than making me feel bad for not being a straight-A student anymore. i tell people like it’s a party trick, “i used to be smart! i was set to go to an ivy league school :)”, which is partly true - if i didn’t fall into drugs in my junior and senior year, i could’ve very easily gone to any ivy league school i wanted to (altho knowing my mom she wouldn’t have let me gone any further than uic, considering how close it is to where we currently live).

growing up i used to be the kind of kid who just... got it. without any effort. i took those little standardized tests and finished in half an hour; my teachers would tell me to stop going so fast and to take my time, but i couldn’t stand to sit still enough to really take those tests seriously and i ended up in the highest... fucking, percentage anyway that they let me get away with it. considering that i was also the only mexican kid in a class full of white people, as well as in the “gifted” class, i would say that i did pretty well for myself up until my junior year of high school. 

everything has always been kind of lonely, i think. i was popular enough, and always had huge groups of friends, but i was never really allowed to go outside to see them outside of school; i never went on play dates, unless they were cousins, never had sleepovers outside of falling asleep at parties my parents were invited to, wasn’t allowed to go out in the courtyards of the apartment complexes we were always bouncing from to play with the other kids in the neighborhood. i really only had myself to keep me company. so being isolated through all my formative years really fucked with my head. im so emotionally stunted that i can’t... form meaningful connections with others, or not ones that last very long. i form unhealthy attachments to people bc i think that i still am not used to not being alone that whenever i do find someone who likes me enough to sit alone with me, i either a) get scared of getting too accustomed to having company, and self sabotage; or b) i do get accustomed to having company, get scared of being abandoned, and self sabotage. and it’s not like i do it purposefully, its just... it’s difficult for me to be with someone like that, romantically or otherwise. does that make sense?

ANYWAYZ i don’t remember doing much on sunday; sundays are always my least favorite days of the week, along with mondays, and saturday mornings, and night time. i rely on my favorite person so much, and it’s gotten somewhat better, but i only ever really feel okay whenever i have their full, undivided attention. i’ve told them they were ONE OF my favorite people in the world, which is true, but i don’t know if they know that i meant it in the bpd way, like “no, you are my FP, and i rely on you to feel okay” which - by the way, isn’t that so???? fucked up???? in a way??? in know it’s sort of uncontrollable, in the sense that we can’t really,,,, we can’t really stop from feeling this way? we can choose who our FP is, but to an extent it is involuntary.... right? idk i don’t speak to a therapist

BACK to the my main point, the reason i don’t like certain days or times of the week and day is bc that’s when they’re the busiest, or when we’re the most out of sync, since they do live across the country and although our timezones are only an hour off, and our work-school schedule is roughly around the same time, they have other responsibilities and obligations and friends and things going on outside of me and... and i don’t really have much going on these days, to be honest. work is always the same; too short and too exhausting, and i don’t have any classes to keep me busy; all of my friends are in school studying out of state, or our schedules don’t align enough for us to talk or hang out regularly; i stopped going on dates out of boredom so i can’t fucking see anyone either that way,,, and im not really in a specific fandom or community or club or whatever to do other stuff. 

i once again end up isolating from the whole world.

my guinea pig died in the early hours, alone, in her cage, after living a very long, nine years of quiet solitude. she didn’t have a cagemate, mostly because when we adopted her we didn’t know that guinea pigs were social animals and needed constant company, but we always greeted her daily, fed her and played with her and took her outside when the weather was warm or let her play in the apartment with our two other cats.

and i loved her, for how little she did and for how little i actually saw of her; she wasn’t actually my pet, she was my younger sister and brother’s more than mine, but i saw her every day when i was still in school, and i played with her and fed her and changed her water and bedding and bought her hay and food pellets and carrots and fruit. and i did end up crying sporadically throughout the day after i found out she died - im still crying right now thinking about her, to be honest. she’s lived with us for so long, and she was always a constant in our lives; if nothing was ever the same, we knew that she would always be the same: fat, squeaky, talkative, cute, old as hell. she arrived in my life, specifically, after i was discharged from a behavioral hospital for self harming, and we named her after a girl i met very briefly, whom i never formed a particularly close connection to, but her name came up when we were deciding on what to name the guinea pig and i thought it was such a cool name.

and we loved her, so much. she became a part of our unit. all throughout middle school, high school, my first two years at college she was there. and i never thought to take a single photograph of her. 

there was nothing remarkable about her, and she died, and that’s that. at least she got to see the weather finally get warm again before she left. and i hope that she knew that she was loved. even if she would be too stupid to understand our feelings for her.

now im left with a sudden emptiness. and it’s not really that unbearable, compared to how i’ve felt before, but it hurts enough to make me cry without prompting. 

secretly i hope someone will one day feel the same way about me, but there’s a difference between an unremarkable guinea pig and an unremarkable human - at least one of us never had anything more to accomplish than eat carrots and squeak those little squeaks that woke my mom up early in the morning before she had to be up to go to work.

#bpd vent #quiet bpd #dear diary #online diary #diary #personal diary #journal #my journal #vent under 'keep reading' #tw drugs #tw pet death #tw pet loss #tw s3lf harm #(mentioned) #non graphic #long post #started: 7:56pm #ended: 8:46pm

[luveline]

Would you write for Spencer with shy!reader? I feel like they'd be so cute together, neither of them would feel confident enough to make the first move until the team pushes them together probably

thank you for your request ♡ fem!reader

"Hi," Spencer says in a whisper. 

You look up, extremely relieved to see him, even if your tongue ties into tight knots whenever he's around. "Hi, Spencer. Is it only you?" 

Spencer takes the empty seat beside you. Your entire row at the back of the theatre is a line of unbroken, crimson velveteen, not a friend in sight.

"Yeah, I'm…" His lips quirk into a confused pout. "Not really sure where Garcia is. I was supposed to meet her on the way." 

"I was supposed to give Emily a ride, but she said Derek's bringing her instead." You rub your lips together, worried for your friends and feeling sorry for yourself; being alone with Spencer is agony, you like him that much. Sheepish, you hold out your popcorn bucket. "Popcorn?" 

It's huge to account for Emily and her light fingers. Spencer laughs under his breath, hurrying out of his jacket to take a handful. "Think you'll have enough?" he teases. 

You tuck your arms in tight from the rests so as not to touch him. His phone pings, drawing his bright eyed smile down to his lap. He clicks through the page and then leans over to show you what he's been sent. 

Hey garcia, I'm outside your apartment. :) 7:32PM

Spencer!! Going to be late!! Go without me, I'll catch up! <3 :) 7:33PM

I'm heading into the movies now, unless you want me to wait? 7:46PM

No, Y/N's in there go find her and save our seats!! 7:46PM

Then, another from Garcia. 

Change of plans Spencer, I can't come anymore Kevin threw out his back!! Give Y/N a hug for me :D. 8:09PM

You'll miss Penelope, but surely Derek and Emily are on their way. You frown at Spencer, as if to say, That sucks. The lights go down and the trailers start rolling, and things aren't as awkward as you imagined. Spencer whispers half facts and half jokes with his face inclined to yours, his breath warm where it kisses your ear. You giggle at him and, with startled pleasure, realise that anyone looking might think you were on a date. It's shameful how much you like that hypothetical. 

Your phone dings in your pocket. 

hey babe, me n Derek got waylaid by two hot blondes. be there as soon as we can ♡ 7:56PM

You're not nearly as scared to receive it as you thought. "Spence," you whisper, showing him your phone. 

He snorts. "Typical. Well, we'll be alright without them, yeah? I'll go get us some drinks and stuff before the movie starts." You dig for your purse, Spencer waves his hand. "I got it." 

He gets your favourite. You don't even have to tell him what you want. Your hands touch as he passes you your drink. You're about to say thanks, but the screen turns black before the movie title and age rating fills the screen. 

It only takes Spencer a solid forty minutes to work up the courage to take your hand. Eyes pinned to the screen, you let your fingers relax under his, his palm to the back of your hand and his fingers twining between yours. 

He leans over, and you think for sure he has a fact to tell you, some tidbit about the movie or how it was made. "Is this okay?" he whispers. You can hardly hear him. 

You turn your face, meeting his eyes in the dark. "Yeah. It's okay." 

He smiles (dreamily, so dreamily) and turns back to the movie. You do the same, the two of you wearing twin grins, his hand a steadying warmth. His thumb rubs the side of your pinky finger softly. 

From a row much further down, Emily hisses. "It's my turn with the binoculars." 

"They're holding hands!" Penelope croons. 

Derek looks up from the mouthful of nachos he'd been enjoying. "What? Let me see?" he says, snatching the binoculars from Penelope's hand.

"Twenty dollars says they kiss by the end of the night." 

"As if." 

"It's my turn!" 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[sturniolos-blog]

can u do one with dad matt and his kids interfere in his video with his brothers or one when he’s streaming

Interference - Matt Sturniolo x Y/n oneshot

warnings - fluff, kissing

disclaimer: 3rd person POV

—————————

8:46pm

“Chris, if you make us lose i am never letting you see Ella or Mailo ever again.” Matt threatens as he’s involved in a game with his brothers.

They were currently playing fortnite.

“Matt, shut up. Y/n will let me see them.” Chris retaliates, making Nick laugh and Matt shake his head.

“You’re actually so-” Matt started before he gets interrupted by the room door getting swung open.

“Daddy!” Ella, the three year old yells, running over and immediately climbing on his lap. Mailo, the one year old waddling behind her, letting out a whine as he grabbed onto Matt’s knee.

“Hey, guys. I’m streaming, where’s mommy?” Matt says, backing away from the game as he pulls Ella and Mailo on his lap.

“She fell asleep.” Ella said, wrapping her arms around Matt’s neck.

user: oh my godddd they’re so cuteee

user: adorable

user: could’ve been me

user: y/n is so lucky

Matt’s eyes scan over the chat, “Damn right she is.” Matt laughs as Mailo starts to hit keys on Matt’s keyboard, making Matt grab his tiny fingers and pull them away.

“All right, that is going to be the end of the stream tonight, love you all.” Matt says ending the stream, “Goodnight guys.” Matt says to his brothers.

“Night.” Nick says.

“Peace.” Chris follows before Matt turns off his PC.

Matt lets out a sigh, “You guys ready for bed?” He asks, looking at the both of them.

Ella nods and rubs her eyes, indicating she’s tired.

Mailo doesn’t give a response but snuggles into Matt, also showing Matt he’s tired.

“Okay, Ella i need you to stand up for me.” Matt directs, Ella doing as he says and getting off his lap, letting Matt stand up while holding Mailo before taking Ella’s hand and walking to Mailo’s room first.

“Alright, buddy.” Matt coos, laying Mailo down in the crib as he stuck his thumb in his mouth, immediately finding a comfy spot on the soft material, letting out a hum.

Matt puts the white noise machine on.

“Night, night, Mailo.” Ella says, holding onto Matt’s hand before they walk out of the room and into Ella’s.

“Ready for bed, baby?” Matt asks as he turns the white noise machine on for Ella too.

“Mhm! Te quiero daddy.” Ella says as she gets into her bed, getting comfy under the covers.

te quiero: i love you

“I love you too, El.” Matt says, leaning down and kissing her forehead before getting up and walking out of the room, leaving the door cracked.

Matt then rubbed his forehead, letting out a sigh before he walked downstairs to go grab water from the kitchen, but he stopped as he saw Y/n sleeping on the couch, The runaway dinosaur book in her hands open on a random page as she snored softly.

Matt chuckles as he grabbed the book out of her hand, placing it on the coffee table before he shook her slightly. “N/n, sweetheart. Come on, honey. Let’s go upstairs.” Matt says softly, making Y/n let out a soft groan.

“Come on, baby.” He said, pulling her up as she rubbed her eyes.

“The kids?” She murmured out, walking up the stairs with a slight stumble.

“In bed.” Matt answered as they made it into their room, Y/n immediately plopping on the bed as Matt shut the door behind them.

Matt smiled before he climbed into bed, wrapping his arms around Y/n and placing a soft kiss in the crook of her neck as her back faced him.

“Sweet dreams, baby.” Matt hummed.

—————————

this one’s short but like what else would i add

oml i had this done last night but i pressed save instead of post why was i out here thinking i posted it

anyway hope yall liked it

taglist: @sturniolosmind @novasturniolo03 @hearts4chriss @vinniehackerslefttoe @christhopersturniolo @mattybswife @streamermattsgf @sturnolio-luvs @sturnioloslurps @marlenafortuna @lovergirl4387 @sturniololovesss

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #spotify #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you

[snoopyana]

one night.

the sequel.

“can i be with you just one night? i can wear you out inside.”

in which you meet eunseok at a basketball game, after your boyfriend, wonbin, left you alone during a heated argument— and eunseok swoops in to temporarily take his spot.

song eunseok. smut. darkish? eunseok drops his whole “i care for you” facade and blames you for the whole situation in the end.

everyone knew what was going on behind the bleachers. it wasn’t necessarily a private place to argue. definitely not to argue about you eyeing his teammates a bit too long for wonbins liking. you had no ill intention behind your gaze, but he thought otherwise. his voice gradually rising in volume when you denied having any interest in any of the other guys. it was almost as if he wanted to say you had a thing for his members.

“oh my god, what’s your problem??” you cut the man off mid-sentence. the bickering had gone on for so long that his members would peek their heads in to make sure anything was alright. “my problem? my problem is how you were basically glazing them with your eyes.” that was far from the truth, and he knew it. wonbin only said that once he finally saw the other men listening in.

“are you SERIOUS right now? you ASKED me to come and watch you guys practice and that’s what i’m doing. do you expect me to only look you? god forbid i’m not an airhead all the time and actually act interested in what’s happening around me??” wonbin stared at you dumbfounded. his eyes blown, fist clenched. “i’m done.” walking past his teammates, he snatched up his duffel bag before storming out the gym.

rubbing your temple, you finally let go of your emotions. eyes stinging as the argument looped in your mind. “oh my fucking god.” slipped past your lips as you made your way from underneath the bleachers. quickly being were surrounded by the rest of his team and bombarded with “are you okay?” which only tipped you over the edge. going from a small stream running down your cheeks to full crocodile tears.

their words quickly turning into hesitant hugs as you broke down in the middle of the court. eunseok lead you over back to the bleachers, this time to sit down and most importantly — calm down. the others stood in a semicircle around you two. you face falling into the palms of your hands as you continued your small emotional crisis. silence followed as eunseok rubbed your back, the others standing there simply for emotional relief. looking at their phones, sungchan was the first to speak up.

“hey, we gotta get going. but if you ever need anything, i’m pretty sure we’d all be willing to help. right? just call or text.” his sentence was followed by a bunch of “mhms” and head nods. stepping over to your side, sungchan ruffled your hair before walking to pick up his stuff. signaling for the rest to follow. “you coming eunseok?” anton turned back to you two, realizing eunseok was still seated. “no, she still needs a way to get home, wonbin had driven them here and clearly he left already.”

nodding his head, anton waved goodbye to his friend, giving you another glance before letting the door close behind him. the buzz from the overhead lights and your sniffles echoed through the open area. he continued to draw circles on your back until light cries and sniffles turned into light breathing. searching his pockets, eunseok pulled out his phone. ‘8:46PM’ stared back at him. it had been close to an hour since wonbin stormed out, and 20 minutes since the boys left.

as he looked at his screen, he could feel your body shift. finally lifting your head up from your hands — glancing over, eunseok put his phone down to move small pieces of hair that stuck to your face. wiping your cheeks with the back of his hand as well. “you alright now? i can take you home or we can just sit a little longer.” moving his hand from your back to your shoulder. “i don’t wanna,” you spoke in between sniff ,” see him right now.” it had completely slipped his mind, you two lived together. “oh yeah, sorry. i can just drive you around if you want.”

giving him a quick nod, eunseok helped you to your feet — slipping his hand around your waist as he led you out the building and into the parking lot. opening the passenger door for you, he made sure you were situated before going to his respective seat. starting the vehicle, the first part of the drive was filled with silence and eunseok making random turns as you stared out the window.

“so,” he finally decided to break the silence after nearly 10 minutes, “what happened back there?” coming to a stop, the red from the light illuminated your face. “he was being fucking stupid. saying i was ‘checking you guys out’ when i was just watching.” huffing, you let your head fall back onto the seat. “like does he not trust me around other dudes or something? but if i started to act like that when he’s around women i’d be in the wrong!” crossing your arms under your chest as you thought about the whole situation. tears threatening to roll down your face for the second time tonight. “hey its okay, calm down.” reaching over, he rubbed your leg — thinking nothing of it for the time being.

“god. i swear he just wants me to cheat or something.” looking ahead, you took notice to eunseoks’ now still hand. eyes darting over to him, his eyes were glued to the road. “what’s stopping you?” the question caught you by surprise. “because i..”

you wanna say love him. don’t you?

eunseok pulled into a vacant lot. “because you what? you love him?” he was now facing you, waiting for a response. eunseoks hand lingering on your thigh. you sat in silence.

spit it out. you don’t. at least not right now.

“no. i.. i don’t.” humming in response, eunseok leaned over the center console. lips ghosting yours. he stayed like that in silence, his eyes glued to your lips. you were quick to close the distance. lips colliding with his.

when was the last time you felt this way? this desperate. how would wonbin feel if he saw you right now?

eunseoks hands found their way your neck, pushing you closer into him. his lips curling into a smile when you whined. pulling away, a quiet snicker slipped from his lips as you caught your breath. eyes blown and lips already puffy. “get in the back.” opening the car door, eunseok walked to the back while you quickly crawled through the center. once he was seated, he tapped his lap — which you eagerly sat down in. thighs on the sides of his while his arms stretched over your waist.

it’s not too late to stop you know.

pushing the thoughts to the back of your mind, his lips found their way back to yours. feeling a little more relaxed, arms wrapping around his neck. a few minutes passed before the sound of your phone buzzing snapped you out of your trance. reaching for your purse, eunseok started to grind his hips into yours.

it’s him, isn’t it?

guilt started to kick in, this is cheating. “he’s asking where i am..” looking at eunseok, your eyes quickly started to gloss over. “tell him you went to a friends house. he doesn’t need to know you’re with me.” there was hesitation in your eyes, but you did as he said. throwing your phone to the side, his lips found yours again. a slight tremble in your touch while your hands snaked through his hair, and he noticed. his hand slipped under your shirt, massaging the skin — while his other cupped your cheeks.

it felt so intimate. would wonbin do this? did wonbin do this?

that feeling would quickly fade as eunseoks’ once gentle hands roughly pulled at your jeans. helping him, you tugged at the material, pushing it down until they laid on the car seat. pushing you to sit on his knees, the man pulled his sweats down just enough for his dick to spring up. “come on, we gotta make it quick.”

he seemed so much pushier now, what happened?

shuffling up to his lap once more, eunseok spits in his palm. giving his cock a few pumps before tapping onto your thighs — causing your body to automatically hover over his. lining himself up, the male pushed you down onto his hard-on. the stretch being even more intense from the lack of prep.

seems like he doesn’t care anymore.

he was now buried deep inside your cunt, giving you the bare minimum of time to adjust before snapping his hips into yours. eunseoks head resting in the nook of your neck — biting at the skin. “hey, no.. no marks.” but did he listen? of course not. biting harder as his pace increased. he didn’t even bother to talk to you. wasn’t this supposed to be distressing you? why aren’t you enjoying it as much now?

he was quick to finish, pulling out and jerking his way to his own climax. but you hadn’t reached yours. opening your mouth to speak, your words were cut off before they could even come out. “he’s outside, hurry up and get out so you can go home.” pushing your body onto the seat next to him, eunseok was quick to stuff himself back into his pants. opening the car door, wonbin stood just outside. eunseok slipped out, standing next to the other male. a small smile plastered on his lips — your lip gloss coating his face.

“this is your fault by the way. should have gone home.”

note- hii. i wanted to try and venture out of my comfort zone a little with my writing style AND themes. nothing too intense for now. i kinda liked writing this though. i will say it’s not one of my best works but hey, we live and we learn. if you guys enjoyed, please do tell me. i’d love to hear some feedback. also, can we tell i’m a little head-over-heels for car sex? like woah.

note 2- ALSO, took me less than 10 days to write another fic? are we proud of me guys? i feel like thats an accomplishment, im getting more confident in my craft.

#luvyujun #kpop #kpop smut #smut #riize smut #riize #eunseok #riize imagines #riize wonbin #riize eunseok #fanfic

[bingwriterxo]

sisters, sisters

pairing: tara carpenter x reader, sam carpenter x reader

summary: in which two people ask you out, and you make a decision

warnings: none

word count: 2800+

author's note: here she is! definitely more tara-centric, but that's ok!

Tara (8:43 pm): come over. now.

Mindy (8:44pm): u good T??

Chad (8:46pm): On our way

Tara (8:47pm): doors open

Tara (8:47pm): let urselves in

* * *

It was a madhouse in the Carpenter-Bailey apartment when Mindy and Chad arrived. There were pillows strewn all over the living room; plant pots had been knocked from their places on the back table, leaving scatters of dirt across the floor; the corkboard that usually hung next to the doorway to the kitchen was on the ground; and, to top it all off, Sam and Tara were arguing at the top of their lungs with a very stressed-looking Quinn in between them, her arms out to keep the sisters from jumping at one another.

“Thank god you guys are here!” Quinn said when she caught sight of the twins walking through the front door. “I don’t know what to do with them!”

Tara and Sam didn’t seem to hear the redhead--or chose to blatantly ignore her--as they continued their screaming match.

“She was my friend first, Sam!” Tara shouted.

“So?! That doesn’t mean you have dibs on her!” Sam yelled.

“Woah!” Mindy exclaimed, interrupting the two. They turned their sights on her, anger raging behind both of their eyes. Mindy would’ve been intimidated--scared, even--if she didn’t know that the two were harmless (unless, of course, she was wearing a black robe and a stupid Halloween mask). “First of all, you can't call dibs on anyone,” she said, like it should have been obvious to the sisters, which it should have. “Second, what the hell is going on here?”

Sam sighed, pressing the heel of her palm to her forehead. Tara clenched her jaw and balled her hands into fists; she was clearly the more aggravated of the two.

“Sam’s a bitch,” Tara seethed.

Before Sam could respond, Chad butted in. “Guys, come on. Why don’t we just sit down and have a nice, calm talk?” he suggested, gesturing toward the couch.

“Please,” Quinn agreed, falling into the armchair. “I can’t play mediator anymore.”

“Fine,” Tara huffed. She sat on the couch, tense, and crossed her arms over her chest as Sam did the same on the other end, and though she was more relaxed than Tara, she made sure to leave enough space between them that a large elephant could fit.

Mindy and Chad made their way to the center of the room, staring at the sisters. The air was thick with tension, and Mindy rolled her eyes when neither Sam nor Tara made the first move to speak.

“Okay,” Chad started, “so what’s wrong?”

“Didn’t I just say what’s wrong?” Tara snapped. “My sister’s a bitch.”

“T,” Mindy said sharply. “This is supposed to be nice and calm. No attitude.” She looked at Sam, hoping that she would be more cooperative considering the fact that she was older and, usually, the more reasonable of the two. “What’s going on?”

Sam inhaled deeply. “I tried to talk to Tara earlier, and she completely blew up at me.” She gestured around the room. “As you can tell.”

“Oh, that’s not fair!” Tara complained. “Tell them what you told me.”

“All I said was that I want to ask Y/N out on a date.” Sam shrugged. “I didn’t really think it would be a problem, but I know all of you guys are closer to her than I am, so I wanted to tell Tara before I did anything.”

Chad hummed, confused, and Mindy furrowed her eyebrows. “And, Tara, why is that a problem?” she asked.

Tara mumbled something beneath her breath, and everyone leaned closer as though it would help them hear her. She glared at the group, sighed, and then rushed out, “Because I want to ask Y/N out.”

Mindy’s jaw dropped, Chad’s eyes practically popped straight out of his head, Quinn made a noise akin to a surprised baby, and Sam let out a soft, “Oh.”

It was silent for a moment, and the tension somehow seemed to thicken. Tara fidgeted uncomfortably beneath the eyes of her friends, shifting where she sat and playing with the skin around her fingernails.

“It’s not that big of a deal guys,” she finally muttered after the silence became too much. It snapped everyone from their thoughts, and they all started talking at once.

“We just didn’t know--”

“I mean, I had no idea--”

“You never said anything--”

“I can’t believe I didn’t realize sooner--”

They spoke over one another until they realized that nothing they were saying was intelligible, and when they stopped, Mindy took the lead. She knelt down in front of Tara and took her hands in her own.

“You never told us you were into girls, T,” Mindy said.

Tara shrugged. “I just didn’t think I had to do the whole ‘coming out’ thing. I wanted to be able to bring a girl home, preferably Y/N”--she glared at Sam, who huffed--“and say, ‘This is my girlfriend’ and have that be it.”

Mindy nodded. “Okay. Fair enough. Then we won’t make this a big deal.” She stood. “But we still have the pressing issue to deal with.”

“I can’t believe you guys both like the same girl,” Quinn said, a teasing smirk on her lips. Everyone looked at her with narrowed eyes; she was not helping the situation. “What? This is fucking hilarious!”

Chad shook his head. “Anyway…” He inhaled deeply. “What’re we gonna do? You can’t both ask Y/N out. I think the girl would combust.”

Mindy snapped her fingers and pointed at her brother. “No, I think you’ve got an idea there.” She turned to the women on the couch. “You two should both ask Y/N out. She’ll only say yes to one of you, and this whole thing will be solved.”

“So, we both ask Y/N out…and she chooses?” Tara asked, unsure of the idea of even letting her sister have a chance.

Mindy tilted her head and shrugged. “Well, yeah. I mean, we can’t choose for her. Just…don’t do it at the same time, or on the same day. Chad’s right: she probably would combust if that happened.”

“What about the person she says no to?” Sam asked.

Quinn spoke up. “They’d have to suck it up and accept that Y/N doesn’t like them that way.” She shrugged. “This really is the best way to solve things.”

“What do you think?” Sam asked as she looked at Tara.

“I have a feeling you’ll ask her out even if I say no,” Tara said.

Sam shrugged. “Yeah, probably.”

Tara bit the inside of her cheek, unraveled her hands, and held one out. “Fine. We’ll both ask Y/N out. When you get rejected, you’ll forget you ever thought about her in a way other than friendship.”

Sam scoffed and rolled her eyes but still reached out to shake her sister’s hand. “Whoever gets rejected will forget they thought about Y/N in a romantic way.”

Tara hummed. “Deal.”

“Deal.”

“See?” Mindy said. “That wasn’t so hard!”

Chad fell onto the couch between the sisters. “So, how’re you guys gonna do it?”

* * *

“I just don’t know what to do, JJ,” you said with a sigh, falling back onto your bed. You held your phone above your face so that you could see your best friend on FaceTime. “I mean, she’s so funny, and she’s smart, and she really cares about me--I can tell.” You could feel your cheeks heat up at just the mention of her.

JJ furrowed her eyebrows. “So, what’s the problem? Ask her out, stupid.”

“I can’t.” You bit your bottom lip. “It would mess up…everything.”

“It would only mess things up if she says no, and from the way you talk about her, she’s not gonna say no.”

“No, you don’t get it. Even if she says yes, it would, like, destroy the friend group, and I don’t want to do that. I love these guys. Obviously, they don’t compare to you, but they’re pretty decent people otherwise.” You dragged your free hand down your face and groaned, your stomach dropping at the thought of losing the friends you had made at college. “I hate having feelings for people.”

She chuckled. “You just need to learn to not have feelings for people you’re friends with.”

“Wait until you meet her,” you said. She’s fucking perfect, you thought. “It’s easier said than done.”

“I still think you should do it.” JJ shrugged. “If these people are really your friends, they won’t let your guys’ relationship get in the way. They’ll be happy for you, probably, since you won’t be pining over her anymore.”

“I’m not pining over her!” She gave you an ‘are-you-sure-about-that?’ look. You rolled your eyes. “Okay, maybe I’m pining over her a little bit.” Her face didn’t change. “Okay! A lot!”

She smirked victoriously, and you sighed. “That’s what I thought.”

“I hate you, you know that?”

“You love me--”

JJ was interrupted by a sharp knock on the front door of your apartment. You sat up and furrowed your eyebrows, confused. No one’s coming over today, right?

“What is it?” JJ asked.

“Someone’s at the door.” You shrugged and glanced back at her. “Probably one of my roommates’ friends--” The knock came again, harder this time, and you groaned. “I should get that, I guess. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Yeah. Talk later.”

You shuffled out of your bedroom and to the front door, peeking through the peep-hole. You couldn’t see much beside a head of brown hair and the tint of tan skin, and your heart sped up.

Is it…?

You whipped the door open, grinning from ear to ear, but your smile faltered as you saw who stood in the hallway.

Sam.

She looked up at you, smiling the way you were just seconds ago, her eyes shining with an emotion you couldn’t read. “Hey,” she said.

“Uh, hi,” you said, voice a little too high with disappointment. You cleared your throat. “What’s up?”

Sam shifted on her feet, tucked her hands into her jacket pockets, and swallowed hard. “Could I come in?” she asked.

You could tell she was a little nervous--she was never usually so fidgety--so you nodded and opened the door wider, gesturing for her to step inside. You shut the door behind her and spun around, watching her expectantly.

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She opened her mouth, like she was about to say something, and then closed it again. It was starting to make you anxious—seeing someone so confident and sure-of-herself suddenly reduced to nothing more than nerves. You were going to speak up, ask her what was wrong, but you didn’t get the chance as her question tumbled from her lips.

“Would you want to go on a date with me?”

Your eyes widened in shock, mouth falling agape as all of your limbs suddenly felt frozen. You watched as Sam began to shrink in on herself, and a pang of sorrow struck deep in your chest.

“I--I--” you stammered. You inhaled deeply and regained your thoughts. “Sam, I’m sorry if I ever gave you the wrong idea…but I don’t like you that way.” Her face fell, and you frowned, hating yourself for having to hurt her. “I’m sorry.”

She took a shaky breath and shook her head, eyes glancing down. “It’s fine.”

“Sam--” You reached out, wanting to offer her some sort of comfort, but it felt wrong if it were to come from you, since you were the reason she needed comforting in the first place.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” She looked at you again and tried to offer you a small smile. It fell flat. “Really, it is.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “I hope this doesn’t change anything between us. You’re a great friend, Sam, and I’d hate for that to be any different now.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah. No, yeah, of course. Nothing’s gonna change.” She shifted again. “I should probably get going.”

“Okay.” You moved to open the door, then paused and looked at her again, anxiety hitting you like a train. “You sure we’re okay?” You didn’t want to lose her, not because of this.

Her features softened as she took you in, picking up on the turmoil coursing through you. “I promise. We’re fine.”

You sighed. “Okay.” You opened the door and watched as she started to leave. She was halfway down the hall when you called out to her. “You really promise?”

She turned around, chuckled softly, and offered you a smile. “I really promise.”

* * *

Even though Sam had double-promised that things were okay between the two of you, and had made good on that promise by inviting you over for dinner with the rest of the group later that same night (to which you had lied and claimed you were busy), you still found yourself wallowing in your bed for the next few days, the image of Sam’s upset-face burned into the backs of your eyelids. You hadn’t even been the one to be rejected, yet you still felt sorry for yourself--sorry that you had to hurt a friend, sorry that you couldn’t like her back, sorry that you had been wishing it was her sister.

You were in the midst of your new daily routine--watching TikToks for hours on end while tucked beneath the comfort of your favorite blanket (that Tara had gifted you for your birthday just a few weeks prior)--when Mindy’s face suddenly appeared on screen, her contact picture sticking its tongue out at you.

Your thumb hovered over the decline button, more than tempted to press it and let yourself fall back into the monotonous routine of scrolling, but the longer you stared at Mindy’s photo, the more you knew you couldn’t avoid her.

“Hey,” you croaked as you answered. Your voice was rough, your throat sore from not using it.

“And where the hell have you been?” Mindy asked quickly, her voice loud over your speaker. You cringed slightly at her words and tried to bury yourself deeper into your mattress.

“I’ve been, you know…around.”

She hummed. “Yeah, okay. Well, I thought I’d give you some sort of heads-up because Tara is on the way to your apartment right now.”

You shot up, holding the phone close to your ear. “What?! Why?!”

“That is a question I cannot answer!” she said.

“Mindy, what--”

Your phone clicked as she hung up.

Almost immediately, there were soft knocks against the front door of your apartment. You scrambled out of your bed, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a random sweatshirt from the floor and throwing them on, not bothering to check if they matched.

“I’m coming!” you called out as you walked toward the front door, your head stuck in the armhole of your hoodie. Fucking hell, you thought. Pull yourself together. Once you could finally see again, you pulled the door open and inhaled sharply at the sight.

Tara stood in the hallway, a shy smile on her lips and a blush painting her cheeks, making her freckles stand out even more than usual. One of her arms was outstretched, and in her hand was a bouquet of flowers, waiting to be taken by you.

“Hi,” she said, and just her voice made your heart skip a beat.

“Hey.” You opened the door fully and she slipped inside.

She pushed the flowers further in your direction. “These are for you.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh!” You took them from her, your fingers brushing over her own as you did, and a jolt of electricity zipped up your arm. You tried to ignore it as you said, “Thanks, Tar.”

“Sure.” Her voice was shaking slightly; well, she was shaking slightly.

“Why did you--”

“I want to take you on a date,” she said suddenly and all at once, like she wouldn’t have been able to say the words unless they fell out of her mouth in a jumble.

Deja vu washed over you, sending a shiver down your spine, and all you could get out was a soft, “What?”

Tara tried again, her words slower and more calculated. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to take you on a date.”

You swallowed, your brain short circuiting, and, in your stupidity, asked, “What about Sam?”

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, unsure of how to respond. “Uh--” A beat of silence passed between you before she found something to say. “Sam’s okay with it. She doesn’t--she doesn’t mind.”

“Oh.” You nodded and glanced down at your feet, suddenly too aware of the way the seams of your socks were resting against your toes. A blush was forcing its way up to your ears in embarrassment. What about Sam?! you thought. You fucking idiot! Who says that? “Cool.” Jesus Christ.

Tara clicked her tongue. “Yeah.” She shoved her hands into her back pockets. “So, about that date, then?”

She was watching you with wide, hopeful eyes, and the softest of smiles, and, god, you just wanted to fall into her.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “Yeah. A date--that sounds good. That sounds really good.” Just shut up, me! You offered her your own smile, watching as she lit up with excitement and joy and--Would it be weird if I kissed her right now?

Tara bit her lip as she grinned, her dimples prominent. “No, I don’t think that would be weird.”

You paled. “Did I--Did I say that last bit out loud?”

She giggled and nodded. “Yeah. Kind of.”

“Oh.” You gulped. “But…it would be okay?”

“It would be more than okay.”

And then your lips were pressed against her, and she sighed into you, and neither of you thought about the flowers that were being squished between you.

bonus: jj <;3 (10:59pm): u done pining yet?

you (11:06pm): shut the fuck up.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter #melissa barrera x reader #melissa barrera #scream 6 #scream 5

[phyrestartr]

Till Death Do Us Part (Miguel x Reader)

Miguel x Husband!Reader W/C: 9.5k

#NSFW, exhibitionist kink, praise kink, hurt/comfort, infidelity, toxic relationships, brief verbal abuse, mending relationships, mentions of medication, mentions of mental illness, difficult/complex feelings and emotions, things work out in the end, nobody dies, the zombies aren't that important, old men just really going through it

Note: I cried a lot writing this lol please also cry and enjoy! (I also tried my best with the Spanish and tried to reference good sources, but I apologize if it sounds whack lol I only know EN and JP o(--( )

-- Till Death Do Us Part --

"(Name), where the fuck are you?" Miguel ran his hand through his hair as he watched the news, as he stared outside at the cascade of chaos. He waited for you to pick up the phone. He'd already called so many times, but you weren't picking up. Why weren't you fucking picking up? 

"Miguel, he's probably fine," Dana cooed as her arms looped around him from behind. "You need to worry about what we're gonna do." 

Miguel shook his head and shoved Dana's arms off of him. "Our daughter–Gabriella–" 

"You mean our daughter?" Her tone was vile. So, so fucking vile.

"Shut up," Miguel barked before ripping the phone from his ear when your voicemail picked up again. He shot you another text, asking where you were before his fidgety fingers scrolled the log up and down, cruelly reminding himself of the messages he'd ignored from you just a few days ago. 

November 18th 7:04am babe come home 7:04am please 12:19pm we can talk about it  12:20pm we'll figure it out 12:46pm gabi misses you 9:34pm call me tomorrow

November 19th 7:35am you still ignoring me? 7:40am gabi wants to call you 7:41am you gonna answer if it's her? 8:05am i'll tell her you're busy with work 9:50pm i miss you

November 21st  9:56pm call me

November 23rd 12:01am i shot someone  12:01am i had to 12:01am but i can't stop thinking about it  12:32am i need you  1:12am please 2:07am miguel

November 30th 7:16am miggs shit's crazy outside 7:17am lock the doors, don't let anyone inside 7:17am maybe stock up on food first idk this might take a while  7:18am but DON'T help anyone who's bit or injured 7:19am they evacuated gabi's school but i don't fucking know where they're going 7:19am i'm gonna find her, i promise 7:20am i love you. stay safe.

December 2nd  3:05am i love you 3:06am i'm sorry

Miguel rubbed his eyes. He sped past his own wall of text starting from that day, December 3rd, and sent another plea, another wish that you'd respond back sooner than a week from now.

"Oh my God, just give it up–" 

"Dana, shut the fuck up, just shut up." 

He called you again. 

And this time, you answered. 

Miguel's heart jumped. "(Name)?" 

"Babe?" You sounded like you were panting, like you were straining against something. "Are–are you okay? Where are you?" A string of coughs punched out of your lungs in rough staccato, pinching Miguel's nerves with every ghastly beat. He was scared. He was so fucking scared. 

"I--I'm," Miguel stammered, still unable to have that conversation, still too much of a coward in the end. "Does it matter?" 

"Just keep the doors locked," you continued. "Keep 'em locked, and…and I dunno if you're in a tower or a house or fucking whatever, but don't leave until things get quiet." You picked yourself up from the ground, Miguel could tell by the scratch of gravel echoing wherever you were. "Don't get bit. Don't help anyone who is bit. Put yourselves first." 

"But, I–you–do you have Gabi?" Panic gripped his throat as jets flew overhead, high above the city. The engines roared a gruesome apology, a sound Ouranos himself must have made when his own children slew him, so filled with godly enmity. 

Then, molten death rained on the city. Miguel stared at roaring explosions dotting the cityscape, watching pillars of flame feed into the world's chaos. His hands trembled when the same carnage screeched through your phone. 

"I'll find her. I-I promise, Miguel, I'll find her and--and I'll–shit."  

There was gunfire. Gunfire encased in wild snarling. It devoured the crack of plastic hitting concrete, the noises you gasped out, the–

Silence.

Miguel hated his mind. He hated how it remembered that one moment so clearly, like it'd happened just a minute before the present. Sometimes, when he felt like torturing himself more, he wondered what your face looked like in those last moments. He wondered where your life flickered out. He wondered when he'd see you stumbling through the streets and have to put a bullet in your head. 

But he'd force good memories to the surface when he found the light growing too dim; that confession and first kiss, starry nights spent lazing on the hood of your jeep, the look on your face when you finally held little Gabriella for the first time–it all chased away the darkness. It all made him feel whole again, it let him see clearly again. But with clarity came the difficulty of accepting what he'd lost.

He found a way to do it. He found a way to talk about you, too. It was hard not to–your old colleagues, other officers of the lost world, were an integral part of the Alchemax colony. Jeff Morales and George Stacy, amongst a few others, had known you, and by proxy they knew Miguel.

"He was a good guy," Jeff had mentioned when the moment felt right. "Bragged about having the best-looking and smartest partner around. Now, I ain't gonna say he was right, but he wasn't wrong." That brought warmth to Miguel's chest, but guilt smothered it too quickly. 

"Never stopped talking about your daughter either." George smiled when he recalled it, but it was something small and morose. "Gabriella, right? Yeah, he said she was a smart cookie. Kind of a brat, apparently, but hey, with that guy as her father? Hah! I'm not surprised." 

Miguel liked having them around. He liked the happy memories they brought to your name.

But on bad days, vulnerable days, Miguel wanted to break their necks and watch them turn so he could kill them again in their undeath; they still had their children, their families. How could they bring up what he'd lost while they still had everything? 

Today was one of those days, too, one where your memory hurt just a little more than usual. Maybe it came with the snow whirling in the blue-drenched outdoors, or the sudden darkness the world lost itself in. But he knew the frostbite decaying his heart came from the eternal proof of your lost existence:

December 2nd  3:05am i love you 3:06am i'm sorry

Why did you apologize? Miguel sighed, and carded a hand through his hair as he paced Alchemax's halls. Enough of that, Miguel. You need to focus. Focus. 

And once he stepped foot in the control room, the routine morning check commenced: doors remained sealed with no record of tampering, security cameras still functioned, the solar panels still collected more than enough light to keep things rolling. Good. Perfect. 

"Hey, hey, how's it lookin'?" Peter asked, a cup of coffee in one hand and his little girl tucked in the other arm. It would've been a wholesome sight, if Peter hadn't ruined it with a too-loud slurp from his mug. Ugh. 

"Fine," Miguel grumbled. "Everything's in the green. Nothing to worry about." He ran a hand over his face with a sigh. "Just have to clear the snow off the solar panels later today." 

"Oooh, snow! It is that time of the year, huh? December already! Who woulda thought. Time goes by pretty quick when you're not worried about getting eaten all the time." Peter looked at his little May and cooed. "Isn't that right, Mayday?" 

Miguel rolled his eyes fondly and shook his head. "If you're that excited about snow, I'll put you on shovelling duty, Parker." 

"Oh, wow, I'm suddenly deaf and can't hear you." Peter shuffled away in his stupid slippers and stupid bathrobe. "Oh, right, right, MJ made bread! Can you believe it? I feel like I haven't had a bread-carb in forever! We really gotta do another supply run or we're eating canned beans all winter long. Y'know what? I'll put it on the 'to-do' list!" 

Miguel threw a glare at Peter over his shoulder. He was annoying, but he wasn't wrong. They did need more food, more supplies, more ways to sustain themselves. Scavenging the dregs of supermarkets and convenience stores wasn't cutting it anymore; there were too many mouths to feed, and shitty, packaged foods wouldn't suffice much longer.

Miguel braced his hands on the centre console after pulling up a satellite map of the surrounding area. The lab they called home laid nestled away from prying eyes of citizens, making it a safer place to start to rebuild the semblance of a normal life. Though, at the same time, it made it more difficult to get in and out of the city in good time. They had to pick their destination on the map, calculate the time it'd take to get there, and then execute the plan with little to no hiccups. It was hard. It was a pain in the ass. But it had to be done.

Miguel took his time scanning through the map, trying to spot any buildings they hadn't already marked off as empty and not worth the trip. These days, they had to get creative, they had to think of places that'd have food where people wouldn't expect, where the average scavenger wouldn't think to look and–

"Shit," Miguel breathed before rushing to move the map. "How could I forget?"

He spotted a small building on the map, one they'd never ventured to, one they never thought to go to. A chain link fence surrounded the perimeter, giving about five metres worth of breathing room around the building. Clusters of huge garden pots dotted the area randomly, along with whatever outdoor trees and shrubs that'd survived all these years on their own.

Miguel covered his mouth as he smiled.

"You might've just saved us, viejo." 

Because you were a country boy. A farmer's son. 

You convinced (begged) him to pull over, to go to the new garden store that'd appeared not too long ago. Miguel, far too smitten with you, couldn't find the heart to say 'no' to the excitement buzzing in your voice. 

The store was filled with beautiful plants, ranging from common houseplants, to tropical rarities that Miguel never knew existed. All sorts of bushy plants, tall single-leafers, and vining beauties lined the displays and bathed in the gentle, constant mist raining down on them. It really felt like a tropical jungle landed in New York. 

You'd sauntered over to the seed section while Miguel wandered through all the store had to offer before finding you again. You had several sachets in your hands and scanned the shelves for anything else that piqued your interest; they were all vegetable seeds, stuff like corn and green beans, tomatoes and onions, but the occasional herb showed itself as well. 

To Miguel, raising vegetables seemed like a cute hobby. But to you, raising crops meant revisiting your childhood. 

"You wanna get some?" Miguel asked. He looped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder as he read all the different seed names on display. 

"Yeah. I mean…maybe. Dunno if a vegetable garden'll go with the house." You laughed softly, a little self-deprecatingly, before you reached to put the packets back. "I just–I don't know." 

"I think it'll work." A smile warmed Miguel's face as pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. "We can make a greenhouse. A big one. In the backyard." He kissed your neck next. "You can show me the farmboy fantasy." 

You laughed, turned in his arms, and kissed him. "Done."

Miguel crept up to the garden centre with Hobie and Gwen in tow. Travelling anywhere from the safe confines of Alchemax was something of a nightmare, but Miguel was used to it–despite being the man who knew how to run the building, he too often volunteered to head out on supply runs himself. He needed the space to think, to feel the darkness they’d found themselves in, and to feel the light of the sun on his skin to remind himself it wasn’t over. Because it was far from over. 

The garden centre was surrounded by chain link fences encircling the entirety of the building, the very same ones Miguel had seen from the satellite’s view. Honestly, he found himself surprised to see just how good the place looked–the windows were mostly intact, the fences hadn’t been torn through, the doors were still sealed, and a row of crippled undead and frozen re-deads dotted the perimeter, but none were inside. It didn’t seem like any had ever been inside, actually.

“That’s…kinda weird, right?” Gwen murmured as she adjusted her toque. “This place feels like…like it never went under, or something.” 

“Damn near stuck in the past, I’d say,” Hobie agreed. He looked to Miguel. “Fishy’s an understatement, yeah? Might be some not-so-dead-yets in there.” 

Miguel took a deep breath as he thought. “It’s a plant store. Not the highest priority for scavengers like us.” He headed forward, grip tight on his hunting knife. “Try not to shoot. Not unless there’s a runner.” 

“Better not be any runners,” Gwen grumbled. “It’s December. Hopefully they’re all freezing to double-death right now.” 

Hobie scoffed a smile. “If not, we just give ‘em an early Christmas present, hey?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure they’d love their brains blown out.” 

“Eh. I would.” 

Miguel rolled his eyes as the youngins bickered softly behind him. There was no point stopping them–trying to dad them out in the wilds of New York just gave Miguel a bigger headache, and too often ended in a louder match of bickering and scolding, which then often resulted in the undead stumbling their way. It was always a mess. Maybe he should stop bringing the dynamic duo with him. 

But you’d known them. You were fond of them, too, always letting them off the hook with a slap on the wrist when they were caught vandalizing buildings or stealing from stores when they were teenagers. You laughed when you told Miguel stories about them, about how Hobie’d call you “officer tall, sunny and handsome” to get on your good side (which worked), and how Gwen would try to bribe you with car-washings and babysitting to get you to not tell her dad what happened. You knew they were good kids, just bored and too smart for their own good. Miguel knew that, too; the two of you were thick as thieves back in the day, total petty-crime masterminds. Maybe Hobie and Gwen were your dark apprentices, in a way. 

Miguel smiled faintly. He missed the days where you both broke into abandoned buildings, haunted houses and everything else inbetween to fool around and fuck. It’d always be filmed, much to Miguel’s embarrassment, but watching the videos back always made him feel…wanted. Appreciated. Like a rare piece of art. 

You’d always cheese it up and make it sound like some sort of bad porno or found-footage film, like you didn't just break into Chuck E. Cheese to fuck in front of the creepy animatronics. Breaking the law got you excited, as ironic as that was for a future cop. Miguel thought you were a freak. Miguel was kind of a freak too, though. 

“Fucking God,” Miguel moaned, somehow louder than the squeak of the table hosting your feverish coupling. His hips bucked and rolled against yours in a desperate attempt to keep up with your brutal, delicious pace, and his thighs dug into your sides with his hands clutching to your shoulders for dear life. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you mumbled into his ear. Miguel’s body gave a sharp, involuntary jolt, kickstarting the sudden crescendo of his well-earned euphoria. He let his voice be heard as he arched off that shitty table and up against your solid frame, his hips still rutting and moving in sync with your own. You groaned too, letting yourself be just as loud in the midst of him tightening around your heavy, thick cock pummeling into him. 

“God, lookit that pretty face,” you growled when you pulled back to see how fucked out he was. “You feel good, huh? ‘M I makin’ you cum hard?” Your hand slapped the side of his ass, and Miguel whimpered sharply. “You’re so good, baby, so fucking good. I’ll make you cum again, yeah? Make you cum while you–while you take everything I got.” 

You were terrible. Horrible. A monster in the sack, and apparently in front of powered-down robots. You did what you promised, and ripped another orgasm from his exhausted, over-stimulated body before reaching your own blissful undoing with a rude grin on your stupid, annoying face. 

It made for good content, though.

They reached the front gate without problem, only to find it locked with hefty chains and thick padlocks. If there were people in there, then breaking through the first line of defence wasn’t their favoured option–they didn’t like other survivors, no, and they didn’t work with them without good reason, but they weren’t in the business of sabotaging them, either. 

“Hobie,” Miguel beckoned, muffling the chains’ clanking while holding up one of the locks. 

The young man smirked and flicked his old lock picking set from his pocket. “Don’t mind if I do, coz.” 

He unlocked everything in record time. Miguel thought of you for a moment, and wondered if you’d taught the young man a few nefarious tricks since you, too, were an expert sneak. But Miguel pushed the thought aside as they all carefully, slowly, painstakingly unwrapped the linked metal from the fence, and pushed it open with just as much care to keep the noise to a minimum. It’d be a shame to ring the dinner bell in such an untouched place. 

They relocked one of the padlocks for peace of mind before wandering towards the front entrance. The doors’ windows were boarded neatly and meticulously, Miguel noticed first. He crouched down and noted something blocking the small gap between the ground and the door, but the faintest reach of light still reached through the few cracks that remained. 

“Lights’re on. Front’s boarded,” he sighed before backing up. “Might be a different way inside. Looks like there might be people in–” 

“Miguel!” Gwen whispered. He looked her way, and saw her point to a decrepit shed nestled up against the side of the building, right underneath a large window. Shoved against it laid a single, heavy pot flipped on its end, serving as a sort of stool to get up on. But the lack of snow on the newfound path gave Miguel pause.

“I’ll check it out,” Gwen said before nimbly scampering up the side of the shed. 

Miguel frowned. “Gwen–”

“Relax, I’m just gonna look.” But Miguel did not relax, especially not when she rose on her tiptoes on that shitty, rickety shed roof and peered through the window before her eyes grew wide with a soft woah. 

“Whatcha got, Gwendy?” Hobie asked, approaching the shed himself. 

“You two–” Miguel warned. He looked around cautiously, his body aching with primal instinct–they weren’t alone. There had to be someone else here. Gwen and Hobie had to realize that. They were smarter than this. They wouldn’t do anything stupid. They wouldn’t be hypnotized by whatever was in there and throw caution to the wind to get it. Right? Right. 

…Right?

Excited, Gwen smiled and glanced at the two before looking back at whatever she saw. “There’re–there’s…trees? And bushes with veggies and–and wow, you were right, Miguel.” 

“Well, I say we hop in there and snag a few to bring back, yeah?” Hobie suggested. “Reckon they grew on their own?”

“No,” Miguel scolded. “They didn’t. Come down, right now. We need more people for this.” 

“I’m juuust gonna...” Gwen reached for the window, and Miguel’s anxiety peaked.

“Gwen.” 

“Just a little–” The window groaned as it popped open. 

They froze. They died as statues for a single, long moment, rejecting the need to breathe, letting their eyes freeze solid in winter’s mercy while their ears pricked, searching like the alert deer suspecting death stalking nearby after a misstep on a brittle branch. 

One minute passed. 

Then two minutes. 

Three minutes.

But the birds kept chirping, the world kept spinning, and Ares didn’t come to collect their battle-worn souls.

Gwen looked at her group with a nervous smile, a guilty thing that said, “oops?” 

Miguel was furious. But now was not the time to argue or yell. He could let her father handle that back at Alchemax.

But someone grabbed her, and yanked her inside.

Hobie didn’t hesitate. He jumped up to where Gwen once stood and took the plunge after her, scrambling up into the window, but that same someone shoved him, sending him plummeting down to the frigid concrete. Miguel rushed to his side when he hit the pavement with a choked-back groan. 

“Shit, shit, shit.” Miguel rolled him on his back. “Hobie, you fucking idiot.” Miguel’s panic ebbed just the slightest bit when he saw the punk blinking away stars instead of losing consciousness. 

Click. 

Electricity burst through him. Miguel ripped his revolver free of its holster and returned aim up at the shadow in the window. The tired winter sun illuminated a barrel of black metal, and the small, tawny hand holding it steady. A child. A kid. He was pointing a gun at a kid.

“We don’t want any problems, kid,” Miguel called up. He tried to relax, but he couldn’t; children who grew up in this world were ruthless. They were cruel, unrelenting, and unapologetic towards  their targets. He couldn’t blame them. It was all they’d known, all they’d been taught. But they were only as cruel as their teachers made them. Some of them still held on to shreds of humanity. 

And judging by that unwavering hand, Miguel feared their adversary was at least a confident shot if not a full-blooded monster.

“Yeah, c’mon,” Hobie groaned. “We just–we just want some seeds ‘n shit, ‘at’s all.” 

The small hand faltered a bit. Seems she still possessed sympathy. But a voice, deep and thread-bare, called to her. She looked over her shoulder for a second, before pulling the window closed and locking the latch behind her. 

Panic lanced through Miguel as anger possessed Hobie. “I’m gonna snap that kid in half–” but the creaky hinges of the front door opening cut him off. Miguel aimed toward it, and Hobie did the same once he got himself together, but then–then Gwen peeked out. 

“Guys!” Her hand fluttered and ushered them to come. “You’re not gonna believe this! It’s–” 

“Daddy?” A young, gentle voice asked, and Miguel’s gaze snapped to her. To her. To the little girl peeking out from around Gwen. To his baby, to his tiny world, long lost but never forgotten. To–

“Gabriella,” Miguel breathed. 

“Ho-ly shit,” Hobie commented.

Gabi’s eyes flooded with emotion. She sprinted to him, nearly slipping and tripping in the snow before jumping into his arms and holding on tight. She was so much older now, so much bigger; her tiny face used to bury into his stomach, but now she had her head tucked up against his chest, staining his jacket with heavy tears. 

“It’s okay, mija, it’s okay. I’m here, Daddy’s got you.” Miguel kissed the top of her head. He fought back tears of his own, but did so so pitifully with broken, bewildered laughs and shaking breaths. He pulled back and looked down at her face, her beautiful, beautiful face, and carefully wiped away the wet trails freezing on her cheeks. “I–you–L-Look at you. How’d you get so big?” 

Gabi smiled and sniffled as she wiped her eyes. “I-I, um, finally ate my veggies.” She took a breath to try and still the quiver in her lungs between thoughts. “Y-You have so much grey in your hair now!”

A few beats of warm laughter left Miguel. “Yeah, no thanks to you. Spent all this time worrying about you, kid.” His hand, so used to killing and defending, trembled as he brushed flyaways out of her face. "Listen, I–I'm gonna take you somewhere safe, okay? You won't be alone anymore." 

Gabriella blinked. Her small hands clutched his jacket. "What? But–"

"She's not alone." 

Miguel almost didn’t look. He didn’t really believe what he just heard. But when he risked it, when he managed to wrench his gaze away from his daughter and back to the heavenly light of the front entrance, he saw you. The man who'd been haunting him for years. The man who'd been keeping him warm at night. You, his lover. You, his husband. 

(You, the man he betrayed.)

"She hasn't been alone," you said, the words punctuated by hazy clouds of warmth–proof you were alive, that you weren't an illusion, not this time. "I promise." 

You looked so, so tired.

But Gwen was grinning, and even Hobie smiled with a lack of irony as he walked to you and gave you a hug. 

"My man! Officer tall, sunny and handsome in the flesh!" He clapped his hand hard against your back but you hardly wavered. You offered a smile, and hugged him back, short and sweet. 

"Hey, Hobie. Behaving?" 

"Eh. Sometimes." 

"Good enough for me." You let him go and scanned over all the survivors, your eyes not lingering on anyone for too long. "Head inside. It's warm, there's food. We'll talk. Gabs?" 

"Okay!" She hurried to corral everyone inside. "In, in, in, we gotta lock up for the night." Her gaze turned to Miguel as he hesitated, still watching you with glazed eyes. "Daddy, are you–?" 

"I'll be there in a second, mija." And, thankfully, his baby girl read the room better than he could have at that age, and let you two be. 

You looked over your shoulder, so like a predator making sure his cubs were inside and safe before prowling through the night. A man enchanted, Miguel followed you, watching you re-lock the gates they'd slipped through, and lagging behind while you checked the perimeter with thorough hands. Miguel would give anything to have those hands on him right now. 

He didn’t know where to start. "(Name), I–" 

"You said you could take her somewhere safe, right?" You asked before you turned that timid, unsure gaze back to him. "You meant that?" 

The words took too long to register. "I–yeah, I meant it. I mean it." Miguel forged courage out of trepidation and used it to fuel his journey to you. "We have a colony. The old Alchemax building, you remember?" 

"The one that was supposed to get torn down?" You wondered. 

Miguel nodded. "Yeah, that one." 

You kept walking. "Didn't we fuck in your office there?" 

A smile threatened Miguel as he followed like a lost puppy. "We did." 

"Ah. Always liked that building. Liked that desk, too." You shrugged. "Comfy, all things considered." 

Miguel hooked his finger into your belt loop and pulled you closer to him. "Then you'll be happy to hear it hasn't changed." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

You almost laughed, Miguel heard it. But you pulled away from him, and wordlessly finished up the perimeter sweep. 

"You should stay the night," you mumbled on the way back. "Pretty sure it's gonna snow." 

"Might make it harder to get back tomorrow," Miguel said, following you inside and watching you bar the door again. "We came here by foot." 

"No truck?" 

"None." 

"I'll take you back, then. I got a truck." 

"You make it sound like you're not coming." Anxiety gripped Miguel. "I'm not losing you again." He held onto your arm tightly.

You looked troubled, glancing between the hand on your arm and Miguel's eyes. "Did Dana die?" You asked. 

Sickness coiled in Miguel's stomach. "What?" But his tone was too deep, too dark. 

You shook your head. "No, I–I'm sorry I don't know why I said that, I'm just–" 

"We both know why you said that," Miguel said through clenched teeth. 

The way you looked at him, eyes full of bristling hatred for the woman who'd stolen away everything from you, set alight an ancient sort of fear in Miguel’s core. It was so like that night, the one where you'd found out. 

Gabi was still at daycare. You were at work. Miguel was supposed to be at work, too. It could have been the perfect crime, one full of sinful lust and infinite rapture. 

But you came home early. 

You didn't even say a word when you walked into the bedroom and found him tangled in the sheets with Dana, with the woman he'd convinced you to think was a surrogate, not someone he was fooling around with and just so happened to knock up. You had that same stare, rotting with hatred, infested with betrayal, all for the woman underneath your husband. Miguel loathed that look, but he found some sick joy in hurting you, too. Because he hated you, for some reason. 

 Dana laughed when you walked out, some smart comment about how pathetic you were dancing off her plush, scarlet-stained lips. Miguel scoffed a laugh, too. You really were a coward, weren't you? 

(But you weren't.)

Miguel finished with Dana, and she left. He heard her say something to you, something light and playful and damn hurtful, but Miguel didn't say anything. Nor did you. 

He found you in the living room after he'd pulled some clothes on like it mattered. He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, staring hard at your profile while you graced the ground with an empty gaze. Your hands clasped and unclasped slowly. Your head nodded shallowly. 

"You're really not gonna say anything?" Miguel goaded. 

"What am I supposed to say?" You offered. 

Something. Anything. 

Miguel laughed, mocking, and sat down across from you, on a mirrored couch, across the glass coffee table you'd picked out together. 

"How long?" You managed. 

Miguel hummed in thought. "How old's Gabi?" 

That got a reaction out of you, something Miguel craved so deeply; your eyelids fluttered in disbelief, and your lips parted to suck in a sharp breath. You looked hurt. You looked like you were feeling something.

"The prenup says you keep what's yours, I keep what's mine, yeah?" 

Miguel's smile faded. "What?"

"Gifts fall into that category. I’m keeping the Jeep." 

"Wait–" 

"I'll find a lawyer in the morning." You got up, and Miguel snapped. 

"You're not even going to fucking ask why?" He yelled, pursuing you into the bedroom. "You don't wanna know why I'm fucking someone else? What the fuck is wrong with you?" 

You ignored him. Miguel's temper flared. 

"Fine! Fine, fuck it, I'll tell you. You don't excite me anymore. You don't try, you don't wanna fuck me, you don't wanna do anything anymore–" 

"Miguel–" 

"You're not the same man I married. What happened to you? When'd you get so–so pathetic and weak?" He took a pause to breathe. Or maybe gasp, more like, as the stabs of panic started to overtake him. "I hate you. You can't leave me." 

He braced on the door, trying to get his bearings on his own, but you were quick to his side. With a strength Miguel loved and adored, you eased him down and fell in slow-motion with his shaky frame secured in your arms. 

“It’s okay, Miggs. You’re okay.” Your fingers combed through his hair slowly. You held him tight,  and convinced him to breathe with you. In and out. In and out. In and out. He breathed to the rhythm of your heart, as it turned out. Slow and steady. Hurt and bleeding. 

“We’ll figure this out, I promise.” 

And he believed you. 

That’s why he took off the ring, and left first thing in the morning. 

Hobie and Gwen passed out after eating their fill of stew. Miguel was beyond annoyed, but couldn't find it in himself to wake them up and leave, not when you were undecided about going with them, but very much wanting him to take Gabi. 

Honestly, he didn't think you'd still be hurting after all this time. Dana was something of the past, a succubus that followed the steps of opportunity and wealth wherever it may go. That's why she wasn't with the group anymore. That's why she left him when he needed her most, and jumped in a truck with strangers while he bled out, alone, in the solitude of an abandoned pet store. 

Chills raked his spine, breaking off chunks of bone when he thought about it. He'd never been so fucking scared in his life. He wished he could have called you to come save him. He wanted you to be the one to walk in there and find him, crying and dying, because you would have stuck by his side through all of those moments; if he hadn't let his emotions get the best of him, if he hadn't made so many stupid decisions, he would've been with you. If he died that day, it would have been in your arms. 

"Hey," you murmured with a gentle touch to his shoulder. Miguel jumped, and your eyes softened. "You okay?" 

Miguel swallowed thickly as he nodded. He looked around, grounding his mind through the touch of your hand, the duo snoring and slumped against bags of soil, and the gentle flickering of the propane campfire keeping the space warm. You taking a seat beside him helped, too. 

Copper eyes took a moment to pace around the old garden centre; true to the outside, it was more or less untouched on the inside, just more cluttered with haphazard barricades and half-done projects. Miguel watched his ghost walk through the isles, once filled with tropical plants, but now replaced with beautiful, healthy trees raised by your hand. It was no wonder Gabi grew up so strong. 

Speaking of--"Where's Gabi?" 

"She's in the next room. Watering some seedlings." You smiled for a fraction of a second. "Putting her green thumb to the test. Tryna show her old man up, I guess." 

Miguel smiled though his eyes stung. "Sounds like an O'hara." 

"Yeah, I thought so, too." 

You shared a few broken beats of laughter before silence fell, just like the snow beyond the door. Then, shyly, like you'd never done it before, your arm reached around his waist. Miguel didn't hesitate to lean his weight into you, though, and that arm didn't wait to pull him in closer right after. 

"So. You still hate me?" Miguel dared to ask before the dancing cinders.

Your hand smoothed up and down his side thoughtfully, soothingly. Miguel melted against you more with a sweet, content sigh. 

"I never hated you," you whispered in return. "Never." 

Miguel made a little sound, something caught between surprise and relief, while your words sunk deep into his thoughts. You didn’t hate him. You didn’t hate him. 

“Then come back with us.” 

“Miguel–”

“There’s no reason to stay here,” Miguel bit out, frustration egging him on. “We have shelter, we have water, showers, rooms, beds–we have everything.” 

“What about food?” You asked quietly.

But Miguel didn’t have an answer; food was the reason they were coming out here, to find more ways to create sustainable living, to try and make life work again. He couldn’t help but look at the trees and bushes bursting with colourful fruits and vegetables, showing off years of dedication and hard work through the literal fruits of your labour. Miguel didn’t know how hard it was to get there. He didn’t think he wanted to know. 

“...It’s a work in progress,” he grumbled instead of admitting the truth. “But we could use your help.”

Your warm fingers dipped under layers of clothes to find the searing skin of your past lover. To Miguel, it almost ached. He hadn't been touched in so long. He hadn't felt your hands on his bare skin for even longer. It intoxicated him, filled his mind and blood with wants and needs–things only you could fulfil for him. 

"I won't leave you hangin', promise that. I just–I need to figure out how this is all gonna work." You looked around the room, taking stock. "Lots of gear we'll need, lots of shit to move. I'll send you back with whatever's already picked. Not worried about the cold with those. The trees are another story, don't want 'em to go dormant while–" 

Miguel kissed you. Sloppily, and wantonly, but with genuinity. Your hands scrambled to hold onto his massive frame when he leaned into you and almost knocked you off the discounted garden bench. This time, you were the one who made a cute, surprised noise. 

And you were the one who kissed him the second time, but it was smaller and shier coming from you, not so eager to consume like Miguel. Your calloused hand held the side of his neck, and your thumb ran along his jawline thoughtfully when you parted, noses bumping and nudging together in a weak nuzzle. 

"I guess you don't hate me anymore?" Your whisper ached Miguel's heart. 

"I never did," he confessed. 

"Then why did you say it?" 

"I don't know." He traced the curve of your lips with tired, weighted eyes. Your cupid's bow had a nice shape to it, so soft and pillowy, meant just for him. "But I didn't mean it." 

"I need a better answer than that." You swallowed down what Miguel could only guess to be a tincture of fear and sorrow, or maybe rage and betrayal. "I've lived with–with that for a long, long time." Your eyes glistened with unspent grief, suddenly. "I need more than 'I don't know.'" 

Miguel's heart lurched. He hadn't bore witness to the consequences of his selfishness before, not with you, not during his affair with Dana. He'd only seen you grow distant across that coffee table far before that god-awful night. And back then, he wanted a reaction. He wanted something like this out of you, but now, he couldn't fathom why.

"Mi amor, I–it's hard to put into words, and I was a stupid kid, and–hey, hey, don't--don't cry." He wiped away the bravest tear to fall first before you turned away, back to the flickering blaze, and rubbed your face roughly. 

"Here's my guess," you muttered. "You wanted to fuck, and I couldn’t–I just–it was hard for me. Or maybe it wasn’t hard, maybe that’s a better way to put it.” You rubbed your face, and held your head in your hands. "The, ah, the medication, the anti-depressants or whatever, they were fucking me up. I didn’t wanna fuck you. I didn’t wanna do anything. Then I was in training to join the force. Wasn't home, and when I was, I was too tired to take care of you and Gabi, so I focused on her. And that made you go back to Dana. Again." 

Bile scorched the back of Miguel’s throat. "You knew." A realisation, not a question. "You knew we–that she and I–" 

"Yeah, that she wasn't a surrogate.” You picked your head up from your hands and stared at the fire, unseeing. “Because she was dating Gabe at the time, and you were with me." You sighed and let a deep, venomous grief finally escape from the space between your lungs, from the spot where that thing had festered like a disease for too many years. 

"I could let it go the first time, turn a blind eye because she gave me–gave us–our daughter, but–the second time? With all the shit you two said?" You shook your head. "I just--I couldn't–I wish you'd just told me what was wrong. I wish I'd told you what was going on with me, too, 'cause I know all the shit that happened is my fault, too.”

"Dad?” Gabi's small, hollow voice rang. The both of you turned to her, but you were the one who got up. 

“Baby,” You said with a hushed tone, somehow so comforting but so afraid. “Hey, you done with the watering?” 

“Uh, yeah, but…um, is everything okay?” Her gaze flicked between you and Miguel. He could almost hear her little mind firing on all cylinders as she tried to parse what they were talking about. “You look sad.”

You crouched before her and took her hands in yours. “We’re talking through some things, honey, it’s alright. We’re figuring things out.”

A light of worried realization illuminated Gabriella’s gaze. Miguel fidgeted and futzed with his clothes as he looked away, unsure of how to deal with her accusatory revelation. How much did she know? Did you tell her anything? No, no, you wouldn’t do that, you wouldn’t dirty her memory of her father like that. You were a good man. You were a better man than Miguel. 

“Oh,” she whispered. 

You nodded and brushed some hair free from her freckled face. "We’ll be alright, baby. You just get some sleep, alright? Tomorrow's gonna be a busy day. Lots of loading up to do." 

Gabi whispered the softest okay before giving you a hug. She paused for a moment, before running to Miguel and throwing her arms around him for a few precious seconds before running off to the loft to sleep. 

You sighed, then, and Miguel did too.

You turned to him. “Look, you–I don’t know why I’m starting shit right after you…you wander back into my life,” you murmured, going back to Miguel and straddling the bench before taking his hand and squeezing. “I’m sorry. And I love you. You know that, right?”

That pang came back in Miguel’s chest, but this time, it was warmer.

December 2nd  3:05am i love you 3:06am i'm sorry

Miguel squeezed your hand back and this time, he was the one tearing up. “Mi amor, you don’t need to–you’ve done enough apologizing already.” 

"Miggs, don't say that. I–" 

"Stop. Stop it." Your husband straddled the bench, too, and scooted closer to you until he was more or less in your lap, his heavy thighs draped over your own. 

"But–" you started, and stopped as Miguel cupped your face with both hands and squished your cheeks. You sighed and leaned into his touch when it eased up. "Baby–" 

"Me arrepiento de lo que hice," he whispered to you, "espero algún día puedas perdonarme." He let go of your face, and found your hand to kiss its back. "Te amo." 

You smiled. Something real, something happy. Something that stayed around for more than a few seconds, and made the corners of your eyes crinkle with the beautiful way you'd aged. Then, you kissed him. 

"Te amo," you murmured back, your lips still touching his. "We'll figure this out. Work it out. We have the time." Your lips pressed against his again. "I'm not giving up on us." 

This time, Miguel cried.

It took some time to transport everything to Alchemax. It took a little bit longer to get you there, too. 

But you got there eventually, ready to stay for good, and ready to put Miguel's mind at ease. 

Your old friends and coworkers greeted you, clasping their hands on your back and hugging you tight until you couldn't breathe anymore. You smiled, too, and asked them how they were holding up, if your husband was keeping things in line. You couldn't help but remind them that you in fact hand the handsomest and smartest partner in the world, too. 

They let you get acquainted with the building pretty quickly, probably seeing the haggard, exhausted state you'd lived in for five years and wanting to let you unwind for the first time in a long time. And that called for a hot shower, food, and some sleep. 

"I'll take you to your room," Miguel told you as you both left the common area. 

"My room?" You retorted, sounding mighty confused and damn near insulted. 

Miguel blinked and looked at you. "Yeah. There's enough for–" Oh. 

"What's yours is mine, yeah?" You said, stern and a little bit spicy. "Then your room is mine. And your ass is–"

"Câllate," Miguel cut you off with a smile. "I'll take you to our room." 

He led you there with a bit of a spring to his step, and you kept up with as much enthusiasm. The room was nothing special, featuring nothing more beyond a mediocre bed, uninspired furnishings, and random knick knacks Miguel had left here over the years. But it was home. Your shared home. 

"Huh." You looked around the room. "I think that coffee table woulda looked nice here." 

Miguel scoffed a laugh and rested his hand on the small of your back. "You think so? I think it'd clash." 

"Yeah, well, you have bad taste, hun." 

"Oh, wow, you're really gonna say that when I'm married to you?" 

"I'm the one who confessed first. I'm the one who proposed. Pretty sure it's safe to say I picked you." You leaned toward him and kissed his cheek. “And I have good taste.”

Miguel felt his face get hot. "Shut up and take a shower." 

"Your wish is my command." You set your pack down by the bed before sliding open the door to the ensuite. Miguel watched you like a hawk, his prey drive skyrocketing when he caught swaths of your bare skin peeking out from the washroom. He wanted to watch more, but you deserved a little privacy. 

"Oh," you said, peeking out from the doorway. "I, uh, kept my phone through everything. There're some photos of Gabi, if you wanna check it out." You vanished back into the bathroom and Miguel heard the water turn on. "It's in my pack! In the shitty little phone pocket thing." 

"Yeah, I–okay, I'll take a look, thanks." Miguel smiled, and rummaged through what you'd brought with you before pulling out that beat up phone with the charger still plugged into it and kept together with bandages of tape. Colour him impressed. 

He sat on the edge of the bed and went straight for the camera roll. There were loads of new pictures ranging from Gabriella when she was littler, to pictures of animals that Miguel guessed Gabi had a hand in.

There were old pictures, too. Mostly of Miguel, as embarrassing as that was, but the baby photos took over his reign once that perfect little girl entered your life. It made Miguel wish he’d taken more photos, that he hadn’t thought it was too cliche and embarrassing to capture every moment. He used to say shit like, “Do you have to take a photo? Can’t you just live in the moment?” but you’d stick your tongue out, give him a pinch or a bite on his cheek or something else in retribution. Because you didn’t care, you wanted to look back on little memories. 

He scanned through photos until he caught one that sent a rush of red to his features; it was of him, on his back, eyes teary and face alight with a fierce blush as you, well, obviously fucked him stupid. It was the only one of its kind. Maybe you forgot to delete it? Maybe–

The videos. Oooh, now that had Miguel excited. Miguel scanned through the other folders, but found nothing, much to his dismay and relief, seeing as Gabi probably had free access to your phone. 

But then, he spied a locked folder. 

The first password he tried worked (your anniversary because duh. You were such a sap), and a whole catalogue of videos and pictures were unleashed. 

Miguel glanced up at the washroom door before he skimmed through. He remembered all of these places (but the geo tags helped, too. Christ, you were so organised with your exhibitionist porn), ranging from IKEA after closing, to an abandoned amusement park. He still didn’t know how you picked out these places, or how you knew how to get into them without getting in heaps of trouble with the authorities. 

He tapped on a video and bumped the volume up a couple notches, just so he could barely hear; it was him on his knees, on a rusty old ferris wheel, staring up at you like you were God himself as he gripped your thighs and did his damndest to give you the blowie of a lifetime. Your sighs and soft moans rippled through the speakers like waves lapping at the shoreline. Present Miguel rubbed his mouth, worrying at his bottom lip before licking the dryness away. 

“Good boy,” You whispered on the other side of the camera. Your hand came into view and carded through dark locks before cupping his cheek. Miguel of the past turned into your touch and took your thumb into his mouth while his hand took over stroking your length from base to tip over, and over again. 

Miguel swiped to the next video. He was on his back this time, in your shared bedroom, if that duvet cover was to be trusted, while your fingers plunged deep inside of his heat and tore loud moans and gasps from him. He remembered this; you called it an experiment before you bullied his prostate with three, thick digits.  

"How's that feel, gorgeous?" You purred. Miguel swallowed thickly, both in the video and in the now. His hesitant hand crept down his thigh slowly, like he was trying to hide it from himself and call it an accident as he reached to palm himself through his jeans while he watched. He almost felt guilty. But that's what made it better. 

"Good. Really fucking good." His past self rocked down against your fingers, choking on a needy whine as his eyes slid open, and found you. "I need you, mi amor. Please–" 

"I know, babe, I know. I'm almost done here," you promised. You tilted the camera down to his stretched hole to catch what you did next. "Then you can have whatever you want from me." 

You pressed your pinky in, then, and Miguel of the present bit his lip as his shocked gasp and shaky cry pierced through the speakers. Miguel still couldn't describe the deranged pleasure he got from having half your hand in his ass, nearly to the point of fisting him. 

Miguel switched to a different video quickly. The next one was in the Jeep you loved so much. You were both out camping for the weekend, something you loved and Miguel had learned to love; that stupid red truck became home for so many long weekends, it became host to long hours of napping and intimacy, it turned into one of Miguel's favourite places. 

The video started with you adjusting the camera and squinting at it while Miguel’s younger self bitched and moaned in the background. 

"I'm just making sure the tripod's working 'n shit, babe, just gimme a sec!" You whined back. 

"My dick's getting soft," Miguel threatened, so blasé but annoyed at the same time. "Come on, viejo." 

You pulled away from the camera, grinning smug as a fox, and scooted back to your lover. His past self was lounging, hair and clothes already a mess from the prologue to this movie, as he watched you.  

"I'm here, I'm here." You kissed him, and Miguel could almost taste the s’mores on your tongue, the coffee on your lips. "Sorry, just wanna make sure it's perfect." 

"Oh, yeah, 'course. Gotta make sure your indie porno looks good." 

"Hey, one day we're gonna look back on this! It's worth it, baby, trust me." 

"Whatever. Just kiss me," Miguel demanded with a laugh. And you did as you were told, kissing his lips, then down his chest, then–

"Knew you'd like watching 'em back." 

Miguel jumped, nearly dropping the phone as he jerked his hand away from his clothed bulge. "I, uh–what?" he asked dumbly as he stared at your built frame leaning against the doorframe. God, you were still an impressive specimen. He wished that loose towel would just drop from your hips already.

"Our, ah, home videos." You grinned, so much like that fox from the past, and paced to Miguel. "Nice looking back, ain't it?" You cupped the underside of his jaw and tilted his face up. "Got you a lil' excited, yeah?" 

You weren't wrong. With a hammering heart, burning skin, and tingling nerves, he couldn't deny he was stuck deep in a pool of desire and need. And now with you handling him like this���fuck. He was in trouble. 

Miguel nodded weakly. "Yeah." He took a deep breath. "Just a little." 

“I’ll help.” You eased onto the bed and took great care in settling behind him. "Let the video play," you whispered against his neck before leaving a possessive kiss. 

Miguel leaned back into you. He watched you pop open his jeans and slip a hand down, down, down, until your warm palm met his aching length. A shuddered breath escaped him when you felt him up, pulled him free, squeezing and stroking in all the right spots; it'd been so long since anyone touched him. It'd been so long since he touched himself. 

"I, ah, don’t think we–did we lock the door?" Miguel heard himself moan in the video, and he dared another look; your head bobbed between his thighs while fingers pistoned into him. He wondered if you would do that to him again. Maybe tonight. 

"Nope.”

“Shit.”

"Mmmh. You want me to stop jerking you off so you can lock it?" 

"No." 

You chuckled. "Okay." 

Your hand still worked him slowly and thoughtfully while lovers of the past filled in the rest of the silence. Miguel's hips bucked, and you hummed, so pleased with yourself. Pleased with yourself for pleasing him. Something Miguel found self-value in.

"I think I, uh, I think you mighta been right," he murmured to the air, trying to control his voice. Your gentle hum of intrigue spurred him on. "I think I need you to fuck me more than I realized. Need you to want me, ‘n…take me." 

“Yeah?” You asked before sinking a bite into his neck. “Figured you had somethin’ of a praise kink. Makes sense, in hindsight.”

Miguel gasped when you picked up the pace. “Fuck–I’d call it…mmmmn, I’d call it a-a love language–”

“Huh, didn’t know there were six love languages–”

“Sh-shut up, shut up, you know what I–what I mean–!” Miguel bit down hard on the inside of his mouth as his hips rocked up into your cruel, talented hand. He was close. How embarrassing. “I, uh…physical touch. Words of affirmation.”

“‘Needing my husband to fuck me and tell me I’m sexy.’” Miguel moaned and dug his head back into your shoulder as you chuckled. “That sound about right?”

“Viejo,” he whined, setting the phone aside to be forgotten. “I–”

“I know, baby; show me how hard this love language makes you cum.” 

It only took a few more strokes for Miguel to come undone. His teeth clattered together as he strained to keep his voice on lock as a forgotten rapture ripped the air from his lungs and electrocuted every vessel in his body. He clung to the other arm that’d come to wrap around his chest and hold him against you while you worked him through the motions, slowing down, accommodating the way his body reacted to the blinding pleasure. There were words said, probably encouraging ones muttered into his shoulder, but Miguel didn’t have the mind to parse the meaning of what you’d said. 

“Y’know,” you tried again when Miguel’s mind levelled out, “I think I have a praise kink, too. But a complimentary one. One where I like praising you.” You rested your chin on his shoulder and hummed. “Hm. Who woulda thought.”

“Hah. Good to know you’re still annoying,” Miguel said with a chuckle. He scrunched his nose up when you licked the side of his face. “(Name)--” 

“No.” You bit his cheek this time, and he sighed. You did, however, feel his softening cock start to come back to life again. “Want me to lock the door now, old man?” 

“Yeah,” he breathed. You got off the bed, letting the towel fall where it may, and Miguel finally gazed upon his lost treasure. “And set up your phone. We need to update the archives.”

You grinned when you turned back to him, and Miguel felt so at ease. 

There were still things to work out: the mental illness you hid from him, the cheating Miguel tried to hide from you, the little secrets you both kept wedged in the darkest cracks of your minds. But with you with him, the man who refused to give up on their bond and their love, Miguel felt safe indulging in mindless pleasure you so generously gave to him. Neither of you were about to seal away the past again, but if you could share in the good of your relationship while acknowledging the bad, then hope wasn’t lost; it was found in the moment you’d pulled his old wedding band from your pack, and slipped it back on Miguel’s finger that night, murmuring the words you said in a church so long ago:

“Till death do us part.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #atsv imagine #atsv reader insert #male reader insert #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x male reader #miguel x male reader #male!reader #atsv male!reader insert #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #phyrestartr #smut

[secret-sturniolo]

under the stars - matt sturniolo

summary - it's y/n and Matt's 1 year anniversary, and she can't wait to see what Matt has planned...

warnings - angsty beginning but a fluffy ending, one kiss

a/n - thank you so much for all the love on my first fic "Hot Tub"! i'm so glad you guys liked it, and i am so excited to keep writing!

When I woke up to my alarm this morning, I felt super groggy, and my first instinct was to hit snooze and go back to sleep. That is, until I remembered what day it was. Matt and I have been dating for one year today! I immediately checked for any messages from Matt, but I didn't see any. That's strange I thought, but I figured he had something planned and he wanted to surprise me, so I didn't think much of it. Instead, I decided to get ready for the day so I would be prepared for when Matt told me what he had planned.

I started with my makeup, doing a simple, natural look like Matt always liked. Then I picked out a baby blue crop top, (Matt's favorite color), a pair of high waisted jeans, and I planned to wear my white Air Force 1's. Then I put on my silver necklace with 2 small hearts intertwined, which had been a gift from Matt for Valentine's Day. When I was done getting ready, I checked my phone again, but still nothing from Matt. I'm not going to lie, I felt my heart sink a little, but I decided to call him. Maybe he's just sleeping still I thought as I clicked on Matt's contact. I let it ring all the way through, but there was no answer. I began to get a little worried, so I decided to text Chris and Nick.

Hey, are you guys with Matt, he's not answering his phone? 1:32pm

I waited for a response, but still nothing. My heart began to sink even deeper, my hands shaky and thoughts racing. How could he forget? Hot tears began to roll down my face as I lost all hope, smearing my freshly done makeup down my cheeks. I decided to stop trying, figuring that he obviously didn't want to talk to me. Feeling heartbroken, I took off my carefully planned outfit and changed into sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, and crawled back under my blankets. I guess I'm ending up going back to sleep anyways I thought. The tears slowly turned into wracking sobs, until finally I was so exhausted that I could no longer keep my eyes open, and I fell into a deep slumber.

When I awoke, I couldn't immediately tell whether it was morning or night. I rolled over to check my phone, and the time read 8:57pm. I didn't mean to sleep that long I thought, as I began looking at my unread notifications.

hey babe, im so sorry but everything will make sense soon 8:46pm

im picking you up in an hour, wear something cozy :) 8:48pm

I stared at the screen, frozen in place as I re-read the texts. So he didn't forget? I quickly text back okay :) love you and I get out of bed once again to get ready. As I look in the bathroom mirror, I can see that my mascara is no longer on my lashes, but instead smeared around my eyes and cheeks. I gently wipe the old makeup off, but decide to leave my face bare rather than reapply more makeup. I leave my sweatpants on, and swap out my baggy tee for a better fitting hoodie, remembering how Matt told me to dress comfortably. Finally, I put the heart necklace back on, pausing to hold the hearts between the fingers as I wonder what could possibly have taken Matt all day. I remember how Matt thinks I look extra cute with braids in my hair, and I decide to put two dutch braids into my dirty blonde hair. Just as I was finishing up, I heard a knock at my front door, and I immediately knew who it was.

I ran to open the door, and just as I thought, Matt was standing there with a smile on his face, looking as handsome as ever. I jumped into his arms, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne.

"Matt, I thought you forgot!" I say, slightly exasperated.

"I know, I'm so sorry sweetheart." he says, holding me tighter. "I could never forget this day. I just had to make sure that my plans were perfect for you."

Smirking slightly, I ask him, "What do you have planned?"

"Get in the car, and you'll find out." Matt tells me, grabbing my hand and pulling me out the door.

The ride was about 20 minutes. The whole time, Matt had his left hand on the wheel, and the other was tightly gripping mine, our hands resting on the center console. As the night sky got darker, I admired the stars in the sky. I had always loved them, and I had told Matt multiple times before about my dream of going stargazing one day.

"Matt, look at the stars, aren't they beautiful?" I said, turning to look at him. Matt just giggled in return.

When we reached our destination at the top of a hill, Matt put the car in park and motioned for me to get out and follow him. Once again, he grabbed onto my hand, waiting for me to notice what he had set up. When I saw it, my jaw dropped in awe.

Firstly, Matt had set up a circle of small lanterns, each one giving off just the right amount of light. At the center of the circle, there was a luscious pink blanket big enough for two people, along with two matching pillows at one end of the blanket. At the other end, he had set up a bottle of sparkling juice with two glasses, and an assortment of some of mine and his favorite snacks. It was so perfect, better than I ever could have imagined. All of the stress from earlier in the day melted away, as I turned to look at Matt.

"I hope you like it, I know I upset you earlier but-"

I quickly cut him off with a short, but passionate kiss that said everything that words couldn't.

"Matt, this is perfect! You know I've always wanted to do this!" I buried my head in his shoulder as he laughed and squeezed me back.

"C'mon, let's go lay down." Matt guided us into the circle of light, and we laid side by side, my head on his chest.

"What, am I a better pillow than the one I got you?" he teased.

"The pillow is great, but you're even better." I replied.

As we looked up into the sky, we took turns pointing out the constellations that we could see, just simply being in the moment with each other's company. I couldn't imagine a better way to spend our anniversary, or a more perfect perfect person to spend it with.

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets imagine #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #fluff #angst #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #fanfic #nick sturniolo #imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine

[kanmom51]

JM live 15 June 2023 20:46 or 8:46pm KST

cr./to the creators of the media used in this post.

*Disclaimer: I hate Tumblr and it's stupid ass image limit. My personal feeling about this post is that it's lacking, but I guess c'est la vie, did the best under the circumstances (at least that's what I'll keep telling myself).

Guess what?

We already saw the pattern with JK, but is it possible that JM is joining in on the it? I guess we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?

I won't be talking about every single thing that came up in JM's 1 hr. and 20 min. live. What I will do is touch on a few of the interesting things that happened during the live (well, what I found interesting at least), and what followed the live as well. Because JM didn't just show and dip. He wanted to take up home in his pocket, although he did think that over 7 million at his place might be too much, maybe if it was half of that it would be ok, lol. But we know JM, for reals, he wouldn't do a live at home, so he did the second best thing, which was to come back to us with posts and comments on Weverse.

Anyways, what did we have in the live?

JM talked about the 10 year anniversary a bit. Telling us he's not really that excited, but the biggest emotion he's feeling is fun. I get the not feeling excited. He also explains why. I'm happy that he felt it fun, I can't help but think that it was a bit of a bitter sweet celebration for them. He touched, not touched on it, when he mentioned the two members in the army at the moment.

JM tells us what he's up to lately, his daily schedule, more or less.

He's asked if he's working on a song, and JM like JM answers this:

He later gives us a little more detail: he's been working out and eating healthy and working on some music and living well. Once a week he allows himself to rest.

The question I ask is if JK allows him to rest too? Lol, nah. I guess that's the day they take off to visit Bammie. Ehm... we do have the scratch to prove it...

Jokes aside, JM talks about how it's good for him to have a set schedule and be at work. For him and JK both (that's me talking not JM). And seeing that RM kind of spilled the tea, we can guess that the workouts are probably, at least some of the time, together with JK.

At the 10:40 mark approx. Tae shows up in the comments.

JM, the kind of sassy and a true Slytherin that he is tells Tae, he will if Tae continues to comment for the whole time.

Well, I guess that was the end of it for Tae, lol.

Fuck people for calling him chubby in the comments. I hate this obsession with his weight, but even more so I hate people sitting at home on their asses and calling this 1.73 meter tall man that weighs 62.5 kg after putting on over 4 kg to get there, chubby. Like wtf? Man is skinny. And minus those 4 kgs he was fucking too skinny. Do they want him to starve himself? Do they not remember the issues he had in the past with his weight (issues which always linger even if you are "eating healthy" as he put it)?

Ok, so at around 14:55 min. JM's asked for the first time about the rainy day fight. When watching live, I kind of thought he was evading the question, but him answering the question later on, I tend to believe that maybe he just misunderstood the question at that point.

JM talks about sleep and R.E.M and how when you dream your mind is active and you don't really get deep sleep, and watching a video about it. I find it kind of funny and coincidental - NOT - that JK seems to have said practically the same things using similar wording in his live as well.

But no, they definitely aren't spending time together.

JM tells us he went to sleep at 6 am, woke up at 12 pm, made himself some chicken breast to eat and went back to sleep. Sound familiar anyone?

Sleep patterns. Chicken breast for lunch.

But no, they definitley aren't spending time together.

JM is asked to do the live all night.

He wants to sleep early.

Funny how that didn't work out for him... I guess someone was staying up to be able to speak with that very special person that happened to be in LA and would be waking up just as JM was supposed to go to sleep?

Slept at 12 and woke up at 8, ate at 12 pm, rest and go to workout at 2:30 pm approx., start working at 5 pm, at night he studied English. Ehm...didn't somebody else just let us know, repeatedly, that he's working hard on his English?

From his 5 June live:

Nah, I guess just another coincidence.

What I'm finding interesting is if JM is done with his promotions and it's off to the army any time now, why would he be working on his English?

Oh how I do hope that this is for something in the pipelines that involves the two of them TOGETHER!!!

Well, it is hard to break a sleeping pattern that has been with you for years and years. We all know of JM and JK's late night/early morning escapades. All night buddies that they are.

Rainy day fight, JM's version:

So this time around JM understands the comment asking about the rainy day fight and gives us his version of it.

Of course we got JM's JK smile.

He does tell us he's giving us an edited version of it. JK, on the other hand, edited without telling us, lol. Both said a lot about the what happened before and after, but magically didn't mention exactly what was said at the moment by JK to anger JM so so much for him to react the way he did.

Anyway, we got is the story from JM's pov. And yes, there are some differences, but I wouldn't expect otherwise. 2 people, 2 povs. No 2 stories would ever be exactly the same.

The main discrepancy I found was the timeline. JK's being when they were trainees, and JM's all over the place but still later on (2014-15). Idk, I'm gonna side with JK on this one, lol. Like I mentioned in the post about JK's live, I feel like this fight was way more impactful for JK than it was for JM. And as such it's more etched on his brain than it is for JM.

Something I found interesting was how each of them was keen to take responsibility for the fight. JK blaming himself for how he behaved and what he said, and JM the same.

What I also found interesting and very much not surprising is how this fandom roles. JK taking blame for the fight = "oh poor baby bunny JK, how big of him to take the blame"; JM taking blame fir the fight = "omg, how mean is JM picking on baby bunny JK, being so mean to him, ugh we hate JM."

Did I mention how there are some parts of this fandom that I absolutely despise?

One thing they both corroborated was the state of JK's eyes the morning after, lol.

Both JM and JK were happy giggly while telling the story.

A fight that definitley left it's mark of them both but also something to reminisce back on fondly.

Something else we learnt from JM's live was that he most definitely watched JK's live. He watched JK tell us about the rainy day fight and he also found JK's impersonation of G-Dragon very funny.

When is your next album coming JM?

Listening to army love letter

JM was truly moved by this.

Did JK cook Ramen for you?

JM averting eyes away from camera and moving on at the speed of light to..."oh angel pt. 2 came out today..."

There are 1001 options to why not yet. I'm not going to even start going there, because it's irrelevant and unimportant.

What I do know is JM chose to answer that comment but a. unlike the other comments that had to do with JK which he did answer, this one answer didn't come with a JK or jungkookie attached to it. It was short and he was done with it, and b. the way he looked away from the camera while saying it and repeating it once before just changing the subject was just so sus and felt like overcompensating.

Of course there are those that jumped at it like the dead feeders that they are. This must mean that they haven't seen each other. That JM isn't important to JK, etc. etc.

Funny how JM and JK don't see each other but are eating the same things for lunch, like Chicken breast and rice… or how they aren't seeing each other but JM somehow, magically, adjusted JK's mood lamp at JK's place…telepathy and telekinesis I guess. Oh, and did we discuss the sleeping patterns yet or the fact that they both happened to bring up the science mambo jumbo about sleep and dreams, almost word for word? But nope. They definitley aren't seeing each other and definitley aren't close. Also, for someone that is distanced they sure seem to be keeping up with each others lives. JM must be really bored to be sitting down and watching JK's long ass lives.

Moving on.

JM, being the king of evading answering whatever he doesn't want to answer, reads out comments asking about travel and tattoos, and decides those are topics he does not deem answer worthy, lol.

Do I talk about the goldfish lips? Nah, I don't wanna. Go watch!

Mashimaro

And this is JK way back in 2015 already.

JM assuming the position

So after saying he should do the next live lying down, cheeky thing that he is decided he's taking JK's sleeping live and raising him one, by taking us all home with him in his pocket, lol.

Although he took it all back. Yeah yeah, excuses excuses. So he can't fit 7 million into his place. Boo hoo. 3.5 million he can but 7 he can't. I do not accept such a cop out.

And then he was done, well more or less. Hungry, asking us for recommendations for food, and tired, he says his goodbyes and turns the live off.

But that wasn't the end of it. Nope.

Remember JM said he'd update us when he got home?

Well, he did. He came back to update us time after time after time.

And a comment too

Oh, and the next day as well.

Also interesting how that 5 and 8 found their way time after time into JM's posts and/or comments. 58 that happens to represent JK time after time.

At the end of the day what did we get from the live?

We got the rainy day fight - JM's perspective (muddled up timeline though, but I forgive him, getting old does make you forgetful, lol).

We got JM tell us he has seen JK's live, the one with him telling us his side of the rainy day fight and doing his G-Dragon impersonation, and I think we can assume he saw the sleeping live too.

I can't help but wonder if JM was reprimanded for commenting on JKs previous lives (you know with the shrimp, not really shrimp, comment and let me tie your hair), or perhaps he's just laying there enjoying watching his bf crush on him live.

We had JM call army and their comments cute. Funny, huh? How JK did that too?

Kind of interesting how the two seem to be saying the same things (the cute and the sleep talk), acting the same way, eating the same things.

I was going to add a clip and link here to JK's chicken breast eating tales, him cooking chicken breast with rice, him talking about eating chicken breast for lunch. Him eating healthy now days. Sounds familiar does it? JM talking about eating chicken breast for lunch, about eating chicken breast with rice. About eating healthy lately...

But damn Tumblr won't allow me. So you guys will either have to take my word for it (please don't), or go looking. You will see I am right...

For fun I will just leave you here with this:

Cause why not end this with an ear to ear smile on our faces?

#Jimin #JM #JM live #Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook #Jungkook #JK

[tojifile]

I love your Dazai and fyodors pieces!!!

Can I request about S/o who is close to their edge?( I forgot the term sorry!) Like one more thing and they will snap? S/o really have a bad day!! With Fyodor please<33

( I really have a bad day:(()

Fyodor Dostoevsky: Fedya Forever

“I don't think I can stand to be where you don't see me..” -Mitski

Genre: Hurt-Comfort // Fyodor x gn!reader

⚠️: A bit ooc Fyodor

A/N: I told myself I'd only make one request a day but this request was too sweet to do later. I think the word you were looking for is 'breaking point' and I know I can't make you feel all happy but I do hope you take Fyodor's wisdom and run with it. It's an important life lesson I've come to terms with and sometimes we all just need a listener and someone to hold us tight (not that I'd ever have my dream boyfriend).

LINKS: Masterlist

Today was a difficult day, it was as if everything that could go wrong had happened. You were on the verge of tears as you lazily cruised along the bustling streets of Yokohama.

You walked alongside people who were actually doing something with their lives. You felt unworthy to walk the same road. You were walking aimlessly, not knowing where to go.

You ended up on a tree-lined street, you looked up at the gaps of sunlight, then you suddenly felt a strong sense of longing. You missed him more than anything—you missed Fyodor.

You walked to his office, keeping your head down while still trying to avoid the people walking in front of you. After a few minutes you reached his office, you knock on the door softly, making sure he knows that it was you by using a knock that was unique to you.

"Not now." Fyodor spoke at the other side of the door nonchalantly. You felt tears falling down your cheeks as he spoke, your right hand immediately held your heart as you knocked again, this time with a shakier sound.

He grunted and stood up from his seat, he walked over to the door and opened it. At first he was furious and was about to scold you but his expression immediately turned from anger to worry the moment he caught sight of your tears.

You stayed silent as you cried, looking up at him with a pitiful expression, much like a child, begging for attention.

He gently wrapped his arms your crying figure while his chin rested on top of your head. "I'm sorry darling.." he spoke softly. You continued to cry more as he held you in a tight embrace. He then picked you up, closing the door behind you and walking over to his seat with you in his arms.

He sat on his chair and gently propped you on his lap. "Tell me what happened.." he gently whispered as he caressed your hair. You softly sniffled and cried as you tried speaking with a shaky tone.

You told him everything about your day and he attentively listened, stroking your hair as you spoke, humming in response to your words, and kissing the top of your head when you start crying harder.

"It seems like you've had quite the day my dear.." he held you closer as he spoke, "But you must always remember that bad days aren't permanent and good days aren't as well, it's what makes them stand out, it's what makes them good and bad—change is constant like my love for you, which is constantly growing." He then kissed you softly on the top of your head, whispering "I love you, my dearest," before you fell asleep on his lap—exhausted.

Spontaneous post: 07/06/23 22:46PM GMT+8 Philippine Standard Time

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungo stray dogs #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #mitski #francis forever #fyodor #bsd fyodor #fyodor x gn!reader #fyodor dostoevsky #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor comfort #hurt comfort

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

♡ Synopsis : Being an intern at Hybe was a dream come true for you. It was simply a summer program where you got to experience and be a part of the behind the scenes work that pushed the artists to the top. Three months working with some of the biggest k-pop artists, it wasn’t a big deal, that is until Boo Seungkwan entered your life and you both began to question the Company Policy. (18+)

♡ Genre : Romantic Dramedy SMAU

♡ TW : occasional angst ; drama ; fluff ; suggestive ; TBA as time goes on

♡ Pairing : idol!Boo Seungkwan x coworker!F!Reader

♡ Schedule : Tuesdays & Thursdays

♡ Start Date : 20220812 End Date : 20221129

♡ Profiles 1♡ ♡ Profiles 2♡

♡ May 29th, 2020 {10:00PM} • Prologue

♡ June 1st, 2020 {7:00AM}

♡ June 2nd, 2020 {12:29PM}

♡ June 3rd, 2020 {1:46PM}

♡ June 4th, 2020 {8:19AM}

♡ June 5th, 2020 {6:03AM}

♡ June 8th, 2020 {3:58PM}

♡ June 9th, 2020 {1:09AM}

♡ June 10th, 2020 {4:15PM}

♡ June 12th, 2020 {11:26PM}

♡ June 14th, 2020 {2:19PM}

♡ June 14th, 2020 {4:52PM}

♡ June 18th, 2020 {12:45AM}

♡ June 19th, 2020 {3:29PM}

♡ June 20th, 2020 {11:17AM}

♡ June 22nd, 2020 {9:45AM}

♡ June 25th, 2020 {5:25PM}

♡ June 30th, 2020 {8:19PM}

♡ July 2nd, 2020 {6:38PM}

♡ July 4th, 2020 {11:11PM}

♡ July 7th, 2020 {7:15AM}

♡ July 8, 2020 {8:22PM}

♡ July 10, 2020 {4:12PM}

♡ July 13, 2020 {10:45PM}

♡ July 15, 2020 {7:34AM}

♡ July 21, 2020 {6:18PM}

♡ July 24, 2020 {9:27AM}

♡ July 29, 2020 {11:52PM}

♡ August 2, 2020 {5:23AM}

♡ August 11, 2020 {12:47PM}

♡ August 20, 2020 {9:43PM}

♡ September 15, 2022 {5:35PM}

~The End~

Message or Comment to be tagged 💙

#kpop #kpopfanfic #kpopheadcanons #kpopscenarios #kpopimagine #kpopmasterlist #seventeen #seventeenxyou #seventeen x reader #seventeenheadcanons #seventeenfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #boo seungkwan #Seungkwan #seungkwan x you #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan imagine #seungkwan scenarios #Seungkwan headcanons #seungkwan fic #seventeen smau #kpop smau #seventeen masterlist

[remembertheplunge]

I wonder, did my Dad walk these streets?

10/6/2006

8:46pm Omaha time

I did it. I’m in bar called “The Library” in Old Town Omaha. It’s book shelves are lined with Federal Reporters.

Wow. Incredible place. And the bed and breakfast I’m staying in, too, is super.

So, wow, what a day. Up since 2am 2 flights. 3 airports. What an incredibly mechanical way to live. People are like cattle zombies.

My favorite scene was the man, in a fowl smelling men’s room at the Denver Airport, urinating next to me, talking business on his cell phone complete with flushing back ground noise.

I feel like I just sort of stumbled onto Old Town. It’s absolutely great!Funky. Youthful. Red brick. Horse and carriages.Cops on Horseback. Cool! This place is so delightful bohemian! I wonder, Did Dad walk these streets? Did my grand parents or great grandparents?

9:08 pm

Dinner at the “Up Current” was lousy. But, I loved the waitress. She’s a wanna be lawyer. She thinks that Omaha is very conservative. Her gay friend has a difficult time here.

6:30pm. 10/7/2006

I’m at” Flix”. It’s an Omaha gay bar. Cute bar tender. They play music videos here. It’s kind of a classic gay bar. Like the Brave Bull in Modesto. Loud TV here. Smell of old booze and cigarettes. There are ash trays! I guess people can smoke here. There are no gay news papers around. Only 2 other guys here. American Idol is on TV.

End of this part of entry

Note:

In a previous blog I had written about the above trip to Omaha, Nebraska from my home in Modesto, California to attend a family reunion from my mother’s side of the family.

Federal Reporters are books containing Federal Case Law.

#10/6/2006 #Omaha gay bar scene #family reunion #Air line travel life #Flix bar Omaha #Brave Bull Bar Modesto

[highhhfiveee]

hello, it's almost new year's, & safety net news!

HELLO EVERYONE!

i'm on because i am on here doing some sneaky typey things (i'm so high), and i wanted to post a little message to say some things!

firstly, it's almost new year's here! at the time i'm typing this, it's 6:46pm and there are so many things i want to do in the new year. i want to put myself first in everything that i do, and make sure that i find happiness and fulfillment in the more meaningful things life has to offer, rather than materials. i intend to put myself out there more, and believe in myself and my abilities. no more self-doubt and negative self-talk! no more!

i hope that everyone's years turn out so so well, and that there is an abundance of happiness, health, stability, peace, and love in the coming days. i also pray for the people of Palestine, who deserve to have their land and lives freely, safely, and abundantly. the atrocities is*ael is committing against them are apart of their three-fourths of a century long history of genocide and it needs to come to an end. please keep talking about them, the people of congo and the people of sudan!

also, regarding safety net: would you all like the original 8-part story, with longer parts or a 10-part story with shorter parts? idk why i thought a 10-part might be better bc not everyone wants to read super long stories and i write alot ;-; but if i split the last half of the story in to 5 shorter stories, it might feel different (idk y'all i'm so high please tell me if this makes sense omg).

plz vote

okie, i'm gonna go play the sims with this high haha i did alot on here today. happy holidays everyone <3

#fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf fic #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson #faire has works in progress! #faire has the brain of a mastermind #faire's (pornstar) mike schmidt <3 #faire says #yah yeet

[birdofmay]

It fucken wimdy

[ID: a screenshot of my weather app with details to the current weather, a brief forecast for tomorrow and the day after tomorrow, and a temperature forecast for the next 3 hours. Below that, there are details about wind speed, sunrise and sunset, humidity, real feel, Ultraviolet Index, Pressure, and chance of rain.

On the top of the screenshot there's the preview of a weather alert starting with "Warning for Gale Force Gusts: Warning fo..." and you can't see the rest of the sentence in the preview.

Below that, there's the weather forecast for today, tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, saying:

Today: Rain, highest temperature 10 degree Celsius, lowest temperature 3 degree Celsius. Tomorrow: Rain, highest temperature 7 degree Celsius, lowest temperature 4 degree Celsius. Monday: Cloudy, highest temperature 10 degree Celsius, lowest temperature 8 degree Celsius.

The temperature forecast for the next 3 hours are 9 degree Celsius now, and wind speeds of 39.1 kilometres per hour, 10 degree Celsius for next hour and wind speeds of 44.4 kilometres per hour, after that 9 degree Celsius and wind speeds of 40.7 kilometres per hour, and then 9 degree Celsius and wind speeds of 38.9 kilometres per hour.

The current wind blows from the North, sunrise was at 7:43am, sunset will be at 5:46pm.

Humidity is 95 percent, Real feel temperature 9 degree Celsius, ultraviolet index is 1, pressure is 1010 millibar, and the chance of rain is 91 percent. /end ID]

#not autism #rambling #long post

[peppermint-chocolate-cherries]

Lord Of The Rings (Extendeds) Marathon - Disc Timing

My New Year's Eve tradition for the last several years has been the same. A full bottle of white wine, some plain rippled chips with french onion dip, and the 12-hours marathon of the Lord Of The Rings extended editions on DVD.

Because yes, at the end of 2023, my DVD player still works very well, and I still own several precious DVDs to use on it that you won't find on any streaming service.

Naturally, after a couple years, I decided to figure out the timing for when to start the last disc, so that the ring was destroyed right at midnight. Planning this out through the day, and including breaks between each disc for snacks and washroom, as well as a reasonable time for a nice dinner with my parents upstairs, you have to be a nerd like me to be so focused on the timing of when to start each disc for.

Well, aren't you all lucky. My math and timetables are below the cut!

So first things first, we need the runtimes for each disc for each movie. I have these extended editions that were distributed in Canada in 2002-2004 (yes, it has indeed been 20 years since Return of the King was in theaters).

The published "runtimes" include the credits at the end, I skip these minutes since I'm ready to switch discs right away.

Fellowship Of The Ring - 208 minutes official runtime

Disc 1 - 1 hour 46 minutes

Disc 2 - 1 hour 35 minutes

The Two Towers - 223 minutes official runtime

Disc 1 - 1 hour 47 minutes

Disc 2 - 1 hour 48 minutes

Return Of The King - 251 minutes official runtime

Disc 1 - 2 hours 8 minutes

Disc 2 - 1 hour 54 minutes

Now that we have those, the next thing we need is the timing of the ring's destruction on Disc 2 for Return of the King. My DVD player shows that these two key events happen at these times:

Ring dissolves into lava - 1:26:50

Sauron bursts into flames - 1:26:53

This makes 1:26:51 into Disc 2 the key moment you want to have play at the stroke of midnight on New Years Eve. Working backwards from this math, Disc 2 needs to start playing at exactly 10:33:09 PM!

Next, I'll provide a couple sample timetables for when to play each disc through the day. I have shorter breaks in the afternoon, as I don't need as much to worry about in the afternoon. In the evening, I allow a dinner break, as well as longer snack/washroom breaks between each of the later discs.

Sample Timetable #1

Fellowship Disc 1 - 12:00PM - 1:46PM

Fellowship Disc 2 - 1:50PM - 3:25PM

Two Towers Disc 1 - 3:30PM - 5:17PM

One hour dinner break

Two Towers Disc 2 - 6:15PM - 8:03 PM

ROTK Disc 1 - 8:10PM - 10:18PM

ROTK Disc 2 - 10:33:09PM - 12:27 AM

Sample Timetable #2

Fellowship Disc 1 - 12:00PM - 1:46PM

Fellowship Disc 2 - 1:50PM - 3:25PM

Two Towers Disc 1 - 3:30PM - 5:17PM

Two Towers Disc 2 - 5:20PM - 7:08 PM

One hour dinner break

ROTK Disc 1 - 8:10PM - 10:18PM

ROTK Disc 2 - 10:33:09PM - 12:27 AM

#lord of the rings #movie marathon #new years eve #nye traditions

[mainsauxfleurs]

Dear future self,

Tonight I began a sixteen hour fast that ends at 1:46pm tomorrow. I can’t wait to wake up and drink my green tea while reading than do some journaling. Next i will change and maybe splash some cold water on my face before doing a 30 minute walk and my Move with Nicole Pilates workout. After that I will sit down and get some school assignments done for the week. If I have time before I make lunch than I will get ready for class at 4pm. For breakfast/lunch I will have some veggies from the freezer and I will add some black eyed peas, artichoke hearts, and peas. Than I will walk to campus early for my 4pm class and get more assignments done. Than I will attend my 4pm statistics class with my charming professor. I will pay attention and write down key ideas. After, I will walk back to my apartment and when I get back I will treat myself by having some green tea and writing down some manifestations and what I’m grateful for. Than I will either take a nap or continue to get more work done. If I am hungry than I will prepare more veggies or a bowl of oatmeal with peanut butter, berries, chia seeds, a few chocolate chips. I will attend my meeting at 7pm and the event that follows at 8:30pm and I will give the people there a radiant positive energy. After I will come back and take a shower with the lights off and I will sing or listen to life energy music. While my hair is drying I will show my roommate some positive energy and make sure she feels safe to tell me what’s on her mind. Than I will once again write down anything that’s been weighing on my and I will plan my day for tomorrow. I will end my night by remembering that I am a beautiful being of white life energy that has the capacity to do and be what ever I want.

With love,

Ave

[diaryofanemotionalblackgirl]

Ghosted??

3.20.24

I’m not sure what this is. I’m not sure if this will ever see the eyes of others. But if it does, this is real, I’m real, and they are real too. The purpose of this is to create an outlet for me and all my emotions. I have a condition, a condition where my emotions are so intense, I don’t think I can ever control them. Do I have emotional control? Yes, but this condition is so rare and real, I’m researching it now because there is no way I can go another year living like this. 

Here’s a story for you though: about how my feelings got hurt, once again. This time it’s okay. I think. Years ago I worked at Walmart, I had a crush on a maintenance associate. I told a friend and he hooked us up. I fell for him in that short amount of time. I was a virgin then, he ate the best pussy so far in my life. Still till this very day I think he’s my #1 head giver. 

            Anyways. This was years ago. We broke up, we were young. End of Story. Fast forward to today, I’m 27. He’s 29, we hit it off again. The same feelings, the same familiarity, the same feeling of home resurfaces and I’m reminded of how badly I wanted things to work all those years ago. It feels safer this time, it feels unreal, and it feels like end game. We argue but we communicate. We’re honest or so I hope we were. Then he ignores me. The one thing I hate. The one fear I have, he does to me. The night his location is cut off and the conversation goes as so;

Me

7:33pm

Baby why your location off

Me

7:34pm

:/

Me

7:36pm

Um ok

Him

7:40pm

I’m on the toilet

My Lo not off

Me

7:40pm

It just was….

I’m turning back over

Me 

8:11pm

y is u being super weird

I’m is like real confused rn

Me

8:18pm

Imma just talk to you another time. 

You been weird since you woke up 

and you not finna ruin my birthday.

 So whatever you got going on good fuckin luck

Me

8:46pm

lol.

Me

8:47pm

Sinceeeeeee when am I not

In your favorites

you……..lol

if you gone cut your location off then just unshare it

Me

8:48pm

You just pissed me the fuck off

Him

10:52pm

??

Before we cast judgement. His location was off and I sent a screenshot of it being off. I once was in his favorites but when I called, straight to voicemail. No his phone was not dead because my messages delivered. I thought that maybe he was sleep and I was over thinking it. I went with that I didn’t assume it was another woman I was assuming that he was being distant and pulling away from me.

            Now, maybe I could’ve handled things a little better. Maybe I don’t have control over my emotions. But the ache in my heart and the numbness in my hands let me know that this familiar feeling of being ghosted was occurring once again. So why am I writing about it because I need to release, I’m sad. I’m hurt. I’m not embarrassed and this time I’m prepared. The harsh reality is that my birthday is in days and I got dumped once again…

            Nobody prepares you for dating in your 20s and nobody prepares you for when your knocking on thirty and haven’t met a single candidate that fits your criteria. But honestly I’m not ready to be a wife. I’m a kid myself, I haven’t matured. It’s a blessing in disguise he ghosted me. 

            Now reality is; if he comes back and whispers sweet nothings, I will melt. 

But I must trust in God. I trust in God. This was unexpected but according to God he expected it. His plan for me is bigger than anything I can imagine. So why am I here?

This is merely an outlet. It may never reach a humans eyes, who knows.

I am a 27 year old virgin whose love life is a shit show. Whose life is a shit show, but I am grateful because it could be worse, I could be unintelligible. Instead I know better, I’m gaining control and I’m happy despite this obstacle. I’m happy I get to experience this and I am disappointed it ended so soon. I’ll miss him. I loved him, I will always have a love for him as I do any man who has ever had me vulnerable enough to be me. 

But maybe it is time to self-reflect, but I’m strong willed. I’ll allow myself 24 hours. To cleanse, to think, to release him. I’ll hope, I’ll wish and think that maybe he will contact me again. He won’t. So I hope you look back at this specific part, this piece right here because He absolutely won’t. And that is ok.

            And maybe there needs to be some accountability on my part. Maybe I am wrong. Maybe I pushed him away. This is a safe space. 

Anonymously L.A