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suzukiblu · 6 months

Note

Been looking through your assorted aus page and the link for "weird amnesia Timberkon"/"for the game young" is broken (as in, the tag does not appear to exist). It seems like you put a lot of time into that page so I figured you'd want to know (and also selfishly I am very interested in finding out what weird amnesia timberkon entails)

WHOOPS, my bad, messed that one up. Should be all fixed on the page now, though! Oddly I only seem to have one teeny lil' snippet up for that AU, to my surprise, could've sworn I'd posted more? Sooooo as thanks for catching that busted link for me, have a nice big chunk of the WIP behind this read-more, hah.

So Superboy is apparently an idiot. Then again, whatever, if Bernard were an indestructible telekinetic half-alien he would probably also not worry too much about looking subtle in his civvies or maintaining a secret identity, and also it's been a while since he's heard anything about the guy doing any active superheroing anyway so maybe Superboy is just assuming that the entire planet somehow forgot about his teen heartthrob superhero posters and all those close-up high-def publicity shots of his very public face and whatever? Oh, and also that one time that he literally fucking died to save the whole freaking world and the big ol' memorial statue. Statues? There might've been two, come to think.

So maybe an idiot.

A very hot idiot, though.

Well, whatever, Bernard figures, taking a sip of his boba tea and idly watching Superboy check out his boyfriend from the far side of the cafe like he's a sad puppy in a shop window who just wants a little love. Tim is looking at his phone and appears oblivious to Superboy's existence.

Bernard assumes Tim's doing that thing where he pretends to not be Robin, for obvious reasons. That thing remains adorable but is getting increasingly less convincing as time goes on. Like, he really doesn't know what Tim actually thinks he thinks he does in his downtime? There is no logical reason for a civilian to be either as ripped or as scarred as Tim Drake is, but part of being Tim Drake's boyfriend is pretending to be oblivious to those facts and also never questioning his flimsy excuses to run off at a moment's notice or disappear during a crisis or whatever else.

Bernard tries to figure out how to politely extricate himself from the situation for long enough for Tim to go check up on Superboy, because Superboy very clearly needs to be checked up on. Unfortunately he went to the bathroom like ten minutes before the guy walked in all sad-puppy so the obvious option is out, and Tim knows damn well he isn't gonna call his parents for anything less than a full-on emergency, and his friends it'd be weird not to just text, and . . . fuck, he doesn't know. He needs an angle here.

"I'll be right back, babe, just gotta duck into the bathroom real quick," Tim says, glancing up from his phone with an apologetic smile. Bernard relaxes slightly. Okay, that works, thank you, Bat-planning. Superboy can just follow Tim back to the bathroom and they can do whatever superhero sidebar they need to do back there.

But then Tim gets up, gives him a peck on the cheek, and heads back to the bathroom, and Superboy . . . doesn't follow him.

The hell?

Bernard represses a frown and takes another sip of his boba. Superboy continues not to follow Tim. He just sits there at his own little table with his completely untouched drink, looking like the saddest puppy that has ever sadded.

Bernard is mystified.

Are they having a fight, maybe? Is Tim ignoring Superboy because of that, not the secret ID stuff? That seems weird and not very Tim-like, fighting or not. But Superboy's in Gotham and came into the cafe after they did, so he can't be the one avoiding Tim. But also he didn't follow him to the bathroom when presented with the very unsubtle opportunity to do so, so . . . what the hell?

Weird.

Bernard takes yet another sip of boba and keeps watching Superboy. Superboy seems oblivious to said watching, but he guesses the guy is pretty famous and is a very public superhero and is always doing impressive shit and all that, so he's probably used to being watched. Oh, and also he's stupid, stupid hot.

Bernard cannot imagine being this used to attention, but apparently Superboy is. Bernard, of course, is not a punk idol superhero built like a porn star and a supermodel had a threeway with a bodybuilder. So like, that particular bit of mental dissonance probably makes sense and all. Life experiences are not universal, and all that.

Especially not when the life experience one is comparing oneself to started in a cloning tube.

Well, it's not like it's a burden for Bernard to have a free pass on checking out a hottie while he waits for Tim to come back from, presumably, waiting for Superboy to come and talk to him. Which Superboy is just . . . not doing, still. Inexplicably.

Still, sad puppy or not, Superboy's civvies look damn good on him, so that's something. Bernard's enjoying them, like as an aesthetic experience and everything. Superboy's wearing an unbuttoned red flannel shirt with rolled-up sleeves over a very tight black tank top and even tighter light wash skinny jeans that are bafflingly intact, considering the fact that a dude with Kryptonian-level super-strength is currently vacuum-sealed into them.

Does tactile telekinesis work on skinny jeans? Is that a thing? Like, are Superboy's jeans currently indestructible?

That sounds amazing, actually.

Also, those buckled-up black leather boots he's wearing look like they could straight-up kill a dude, Kryptonian power-assist or not. And the shiny mirrored sunglasses and ridiculous multitude of even shinier gold piercings all suit the guy, somehow, and even without looking like too much.

Relatedly, Superboy's tank top is very, very tight.

Also relatedly, his nipples are apparently pierced.

And so is his belly button, it looks like.

Ngh.

Superboy's vacuum-sealed jeans are not quite tight enough for Bernard to figure out if he's got any below the spike-studded belt piercings, but his imagination is happy to fill in the blanks there. He's tempted to ask for Tim's theories on the existence of any such piercings, because yeah Superboy has super-hearing but Bernard has no shame and Tim logically should know, buuuuut he's still pretending not to know Tim is Robin so yeah, probably he shouldn't do that.

He could start a new conspiracy board for it, maybe. That'd be fun.

Superboy also has leather cuffs on his wrists and mismatched rings and necklaces and a really hot fade haircut that is noticeably windswept, and really, really looks like something that Bernard would like to see somebody dig their fingers into. Just–look, there's curls. Bernard cannot be blamed for curls.

And he's trying not to eye the cuff bracelets too much, but they provide very nice inspiration for a certain style of kinky thoughts. Not that Superboy couldn't snap basically any set of cuffs that wasn't made of kryptonite or promethium or like a magical kryptonite-promethium alloy or whatever without even trying, obviously, but like, somehow the thought of the guy having to restrain himself more than anything else makes the whole mental image hotter? Like, somehow?

Bernard pictures Superboy wearing a pair of cheap flimsy sex toy handcuffs and trying very, very hard to keep himself in them while someone else takes very careful inventory of all his piercings, wherever and whatever they all just so happen to be.

Jesus. Yeah, there's a thought.

Is it weird to consider flirting up your boyfriend's superhero bestie while he's badly pretending to be a civilian, Bernard wonders? Is that a thing?

Probably, but he still has no shame and is also in an open relationship, so whatever.

Hell, who knows, in retrospect maybe Tim actually arranged this setup specifically for Bernard to get an eyeful of his work crush. Like, Bernard always felt like Robin and Superboy had some significant UST going back in the day. Maybe Tim wants to finally do something about that, and the setup idea sounds like a very "Bat" approach to doing said something. And it'd explain why Superboy didn't follow Tim to the bathroom and maybe even why he's coming across kind of anxious right now, if he's trying to psych himself up to come over or something. Like, if he's nervous about making a good impression, though Bernard cannot imagine why he ever would be. Well, not like Supers are known for their undercover skills, so . . .

Either way, if that's the plan, Bernard is very fine with it, so he decides to go find out for himself and picks up his drink to head over and chat the guy up. Worst case scenario, he’s just gotten his hopes up a little, he figures. Best case, he’s putting Superboy out of his “oh god, how do I do undercover” misery.

"Mind if I sit?" he asks, and flashes Superboy a grin as he gestures at the empty seat at the other half of his table. Superboy looks weirdly startled, like he somehow expected to go unnoticed despite being a literal superhero who is also unspeakably hot and is also wearing very, very tight clothes that he's this close to busting out of. Like, at least half a dozen girls are actively checking him out right now, as is the dude behind the counter and the old guy on the sidewalk outside who’s busy badly pretending to be reading the outdoor menu board instead of checking out Superboy’s ass through the front window.

So yeah, Bernard really does not understand that apparent assumption.

Come to think, maybe Superboy has some self-esteem issues or something. Bernard admittedly might also have self-esteem issues if he were Superman's clone. Then again, if he were Superman's clone, he would look like Superman and also be very aware of how Superman himself looks, sooooo . . .

Seriously, "younger and sexier punk rock Superman" is not a vibe that Bernard can imagine going ignored all that often. Or ever.

“Uh–what?” Superboy says.

“I’ve been temporarily abandoned by my boyfriend and I’m easily bored,” Bernard clarifies politely, though obviously Superboy was staring at Tim long enough to have noticed said abandonment the moment it happened. “So, mind if I sit?”

“I–sure?” Superboy says, looking nervous. Bernard puts another tally in the “too bad at undercover work to follow the Bat-plan” column. Whatever, the guy’s trying his best, he’s not gonna judge him.

There's a pin on the inside of Superboy’s flannel, Bernard notices as the other shifts awkwardly in his seat, and is vaguely puzzled by the sight of it. Like, it's just a little thing and he doubts he'd have even seen it if he weren't in this close to the guy, but . . .

Just–yeah. Little pin. Just like a cheap little round button, like the kind that comes out of the dollar bin at all sorts of random stores. And it's hidden inside Superboy's flannel, mostly, but it's definitely got the S-shield on it.

Bernard is perplexed. Even in Gotham, it's not like it's weird to see people wearing Superman merch. So like, why is Superboy hiding that?

“Cool,” he says as he files that away as a little oddity, and takes the empty seat. Superboy continues to look nervous. Bernard continues to work on figuring out if his weird Bat-boyfriend who he’s not supposed to know is a Bat set him up on a blind date with his superhero bestie. The nervousness supports the theory, anyway.

Man, this dude really is even prettier up close. How was he Tim’s bisexual awakening with this guy around and in close quarters with him? Like, he’s flattered, don’t get him wrong, but also maybe Tim has some vision problems and he should get that checked out before it inconveniences his nightlife.

"Sooooo like . . . what do I call you?" Bernard asks, peering across the table at him curiously. "Because the obvious option seems like a bad idea, obviously.”

"‘The obvious option’?" Superboy stops looking nervous long enough to look confused instead.

"Yeah?" Bernard says, cocking his head. Superboy cannot possibly think he’s being subtle here, so . . . "I mean, I assume you don't go by 'Superboy' when you're dressed like that. Like, that's the whole point of being dressed like that, right?"

Superboy stares blankly at him. Bernard cocks his head the other way, now officially the confused one.

"What?" Superboy says.

"Okay, sorry, this is the thing where you-know-who still insists on pretending he's not Robin, isn't it," Bernard realizes, which he really should've realized would be a thing from the start. He supposes that makes sense even with Superboy’s total lack of subtlety, though, superheroes probably do have to really commit to that thing. Especially ones who work for Batman and Superman. Or . . . just around Superman, maybe? Bernard is not fully clear on that particular superhero hierarchy. "My bad. So, uh, what do I call you, because there is obviously no obvious option. Obviously.”

"You . . . recognize me?" Superboy croaks.

"Uh," Bernard says, brow furrowing in bemusement at the very weird expression the guy's currently wearing. "Yes? No offense, you're kind of recognizable. Like, do you even have a secret identity? I mean, you're a clone, right, and I know you were just doing the full-time hero thing in at least Hawaii, so I actually have no idea if you ever bothered making one up or not?”

"You recognize me," Superboy chokes, just staring at him, and then bursts into tears.

. . . well, that can't be good.

#timberkon #timbern #bernard dowd #kon el #conner kent #tim drake #superboy #dc robin #wip: weird amnesia timberkon #long post #anonymous #rinfic

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hornyhornyhimbos · 1 year

Text

Goofy Sex with Steve Harrington Headcanons

look how cocky he is, lil bitch

warnings and tags: MINORS DNI (18+) AFAB!Reader, oral both!receiving, protected PIV sex, mentions of ass eating i'm sorry, Steve refers to his 🍌 as "Little Steve" because i think it's funny, queefing, accidental cum swallowing, explicit language, references to marijuana use in the past, S3 Steve bc I said so, Steve is a sarcastic ass but what's new, transition-y bits are in red

Author's Notes: I feel like we as a society don't talk enough about goofy and silly sex with Steve Harrington so that's what this is, hope y'all enjoy 🤩

inspired by this post by @parkermunson <3

What sparks the whole thing wasn't even inherently sexual. Steve had taken the rest of the day off from work due to "aches and pains" and called you over on the premise of having a lazy day and cuddling.

You're watching cartoons, nothing inherently sexual happening. And then... the characters end up in a compromising position.

"Hey, what do you think sex would be like in that position?" he asks. Facepalm, you respond. "Hey, you wanna find out?" he asks. "Aren't you experiencing aches and pains?" you ask.

He glances down, then back up at you. When you don't catch his drift, he does it again. When you still don't get it, he says, "OK maybe I wasn't the one who was experiencing said aches and pains... it might've been Little Steve."

You cut your eyes at him and threaten to leave, but he meets you with a puckered-out bottom lip and a, "Pwease? For Wittle Steve?"

Somehow, the two of you end up making out on the couch for a little while. Tongues and lips graze against each other when all of a sudden, Steve pulls away.

"Babe, what-" "AH-CHOO!" Steve is a loud sneezer but that's a headcanon for another time

The two of you can't help but giggle, but you go back to it anyway, continuing to kiss as he begins to lead you from the couch to his bedroom.

BLAM!!!!

You're scared Steve might've broken a bone from how hard he hit his arm on one of his mother's decorative tables, but Steve insists he's alright. "I'm fine, but fuck my mother and all her damn end tables."

Luckily, you make it to his bedroom in one piece. You start to lie back on the bed, but Steve stops you, an almost devious grin plastered to his lips. "Have you ever thought about riding my face instead of my dick?"

You're sure he's meant to say it seriously, but the tone he used sounded so sarcastic, you almost thought it was a joke. Still, who are you to deprive your boyfriend even if he is being a little shit?

That's how you ended up grasping the bed posts, his nose nuzzled against your clit, his tongue hitting all the right places.

"Finally, something's going right," you thought to yourself.

Suddenly, Steve's moving his hands to your hips, hoisting you away from his lips and gasping. "Sorry," he managed to say, "couldn't breathe in that position."

So, you move on to something more fun for him: giving him head.

His hand slides down your cheek as your beneath him, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

"I bet a U.S.S Butterscotch isn't the only ice cream you wanna lick."

The room is silent as you both process his words. Eventually he says, "Yeah, I'm gonna pretend I didn't say that."

You've barely got his Scoops' uniform shorts pulled down before his dick springs into action, slapping you hard on the chin. You laugh as you take it in your hands, ready to proceed with the task at hand.

"Told you Little Steve was needy today."

You're tempted to leave again, but his dick looks so nice, you can't just say no. Next thing you know, he's sliding his dick into your mouth, moaning louder than he ever had before.

He's barely a third of the way in and you're barely licking the vein when he just releases, sending so much cum down your throat you nearly choke.

His eyes bulge as he runs over to the bathroom, making a cup of water and sprinting back over to you, his cock waving about. The sight only had you choking harder.

After a couple minutes of catching your breath and washing down his seed, you finally feel up to doing what you'd been in his bedroom for all along.

He grabs a condom from the bedside table, jokingly lifting it to his mouth. "You think I could make balloon animals with one of these?"

"Steve that is SO unsanitary."

"Look, my mouth's already been where this is going anyway, right?"

Despite his last sarcastic comment, you soon find yourself laid back on his mattress, his dick sinking into you. His hands are clasped around yours, he's trailing kisses from your boobs to your neck to the shell of your ear. The moment feels happy, close, intimate.

When all of a sudden... you queef.

At first, you're mortified, until Steve just continues pounding into you, letting out low, rumbly laughs from deep within his chest.

But finally, after all the ups and downs of this afternoon, you cum for the first time and it's pure bliss as he follows soon after.

He lies down beside you, a hand raking its way through your now sweat-matted hair. The moment is peaceful and quiet and overall, just feels like bliss.

"Isn't it funny how vaginas can make noises like that?" he says out of nowhere.

You roll your eyes, slapping him hard on the chest. "It's not funny!"

"I'm sorry, did you hear the same noise I did?"

You pout, sticking your tongue out at him. "Yeah well, at least it didn't make the same smell it does when your ass makes noises like that."

He slaps your buttcheek hard, a chuckle nearly escaping his lips as he watches it jiggle. "Says the one who's asked if she could eat my ass before."

You grab one of his pillows covering your face in embarrassment. "OK, that was one time and it was Eddie's fault." "How was that Eddie's fault?" "He gave me the weed in the first place."

He slaps your butt again. "Oh, don't blame the weed for amplifying your cravings for my ass."

Soon enough, the conversation has turned into a fit of giggles from both parties. You watch intently as his eyes scrunch closed with laughter, admiring the cute lines that form by his eyes.

He notices that you've gone silent, and gives you a soft smile.

"So... I'll be here all week, you know."

☆ taglist: @liberhoe @writer-in-theory @esoltis280

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mcybank · 2 years

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✶ ━━ THE 1 ; B.H

summary: two months after the breakup, billy finally had something to say to you.

pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

warnings: angst, angst, angst. literally angst galore. also billy acting very much like not-billy. he's kinda a complete simp

Two months had passed since you'd heard his voice. You wished you could say those sixty days flew by in the blink of an eye ━ and that you didn't a few minutes in each hour of the day thinking about what he was up to ━ but you'd be lying if you said that.

Although you knew ━ were warned, several times, in fact, ━ to never get in a position with Billy Hargrove which might lead you to have to move on from him, you did it anyway. It was easier telling your friends that a guy like Billy wasn't worth the effort and that he cared about nobody but himself until the said person made you believe he cared about you, too. Oh, and he did. He made you feel cared for and loved but quite like everything with Billy, it came at a cost.

Sure, he caressed your face with the gentleness that made you believe you were the most precious thing in his life. In fact, the few times he managed to say something remotely cheesy, it was along the lines of you being oh, so terribly precious to him.

And he didn't just fool you.

He fooled the entire school ━ he made them mull over how you got him to settle down, to stop giving it out to every girl who looked in his direction, and you didn't know how you did that either.

You spent the better part of the two months thinking why he pretended to care when he never truly cared. Now, you'd given up on deconstructing the words and actions of the complex Billy Hargrove. You were at peace with yourself and the breakup. Steve Harrington had asked why you were bawling your eyes out on the way to school when you were the one who'd broken up with him.

You didn't want to break up with him. But it seemed that during the last argument Billy pushed you into breaking up with him, almost as if he wanted it but was too coward to initiate it himself.

So, you did. What else could you do when he explicitly stated he couldn't meet your needs and that he wasn't going to try to, either. You knew better than to stay with somebody who didn't love you as much as you loved them merely because you loved them. And after two months, you didn't want to know about a mere fragment of his life.

Perhaps that was what lead you to leave the lunch table of cheerleaders, the ones you called your friends when they started talking about how Billy Hargrove hooked up with a girl in the band. It felt as if everybody forgot about your relationship with Billy, forgotten enough of your history to gossip about what he spent the night doing ━ or who he spent the night doing.

The slight breeze caught onto your hair, causing it to flow directly in front of your face. Or that breeze might've been the man who took his seat beside you on the grass ━ the man who didn't cause a breeze in your life, but the man who brought a turbulent storm at his tail behind him into your life.

You didn't have to crane your neck to see who was sitting beside you. The pungent scent of cigarettes and statement cologne drifted into your nostrils and you were reminded of him.

You didn't say anything, not even when you felt the electric blue eyes burning holes into the side of your face.

A minute passed, or maybe ten minutes had passed because it sure felt like it.

"Not gonna say anything, huh?" Your mind ran into a wall of emotions on its own accord as you took in his voice after two months. Yet you didn't speak. You didn't want to. So, he continued, "No? Fine ━ fuck, fine."

A rough sigh escaped his lips as you watched him tugging at the ends of his hair from your periphery. "You're not gonna talk?" he said tauntingly, but you could detect the layer of desperation underneath his words. "I'll talk, then. You're ━ You're a terrible person, you know that?"

Your nose scrunched up at his words and you couldn't help but feel offended. That almost willed you to reply, but you held onto your resolve firmly.

"You left. You left just like that." He punctuated his words by snapping his fingers, tongue diving to lick his lower lip. "You'd think I should get a warning, huh? I mean, in the five months we were together, not once did you insinuate breaking up and suddenly, that is what you wanted to do?"

You wanted to laugh at him, tell him he was talking irrationally, but before you could he continued his stupid-fucking-monologue.

"I know I wasn't great ━ hell, I might have been the worst kin'a guy you dated but we had something. I fuckin' know we did, alright?"

"Before ━"

"Shut up, I'm trying really god-damn hard to pretend you're not here so I can say this to you," he said, cutting you off.

Your lips smacked together as you realized what he was doing. He was giving you everything he felt, something you'd nearly begged him to do when you were in a relationship with him. And though you knew there was almost no chance of getting to that point with him again, you wanted to know how he felt for once. Completely uncovered and open.

"Where was I? Yeah, we had something. You can't tell me we didn't because, on my car, Y/N, you know you'd be lying. I know I fucked up, but was it that easy for you to kick me to the curb? Walk around the school not even looking at me? Like shit, it took you one night to completely forget about me? After you spent nearly every night for five months on your bed with me?

You know what, you said everything you had to say. Left without even letting me fight for us and, fuck, you know I would've."

You opened your mouth but no words came out.

He barked out an unamused laugh. "Yeah, that's what I fuckin' thought." He pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "Alright then, I'm out."

And before you could take your next breath, he was standing up and walking away from you.

It was Friday, which meant Neil and Susan wouldn't be home.

When you knocked on Billy's door, you would either face Max or Billy on the other end of it. You weren't sure if Billy had gone to a party, and a part of you hoped he had because you were dreading what you were going to say.

If this went in the ideal direction, you and Billy would come out of it having the closure the two of you needed.

You didn't know Billy was holding that much in. Hell, you had to skip the rest of the school day after that just so you could wrap your mind around him. If you believed his words, that meant he truly cared. And you couldn't help but believe his words because they sounded more real than anything else he'd ever said.

"Oh, Y/N." Max's voice broke you away from your thoughts as she opened the front door. "I didn't know you were coming. Are you ━ um, are you here to see Billy?" Her eye twitched as she stared at your conflicted expression.

"Actually, I'm just going to ━" You cut yourself off, rolling your eyes at yourself and how you had become the coward you always claimed Billy was. "I am. Is he home?"

Max slowly nodded, opening the front door wider to let you in. You could hear the bass of his music from his room, and you patted Max's head instinctively before striding towards his door.

You knocked once. Then twice.

"Not now, Max." His voice came from the other end and you almost walked away. Again.

You knocked again.

"Shit, what could you even fucking want? Come in."

You opened the door, and Billy didn't even look up at the door when you walked in. He was looking through his music while sitting cross-legged on the floor, his back turned to you.

You walked as slowly as you could, peeking at the burning end of his cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth before sitting down behind him.

"You're wrong," you said. He instantly turned around, but before he could face you, you grabbed his cheeks and tilted his head away. "Don't look at me, I can't say this knowing you're here. And don't speak"

And that was why you and Billy were similar. He never wanted to show his emotions unless they were happy or angry. You wanted to, but you couldn't. You tried your best for him, though.

"You were wrong when you said it was easy for me. It was the hardest decision I ever made, Billy. But did you give me any other choice? You didn't show up for our date once again, then followed up by telling me you can't meet my needs."

You heard a sharp intake of breath as his fingers finally moved away from fingering through his cassettes and resting on the floor. He didn't speak, though.

"I know we had something, but I doubted that you knew that. It didn't feel like you thought that in the last few weeks of us being together. I'm not the kind of girl to stick around for a guy ━ no matter how much I love him ━ if I have to convince him to treat me like his girlfriend all the time instead of only when it's convenient for him." You were sure your voice would've cracked by now. It definitely did when you practiced this in the comfort of your room. And maybe a few tears fell, too.

"I might have made it seem like you were the only person who fucked up in our relationship, but that's not true. I fucked up so many times, too, but what the difference was ━" You coughed, not knowing whether or not to continue.

You didn't go there to tell Billy why he was a terrible boyfriend at times. You were done villainizing him after you broke up with him. Because yes, he wasn't perfect, but he wasn't the worst you'd had like he thought he was.

"The difference was?" he prompted, clearing his throat after realizing how scratchy his voice sounded just then. He didn't sound angry, just curious and perhaps a little intrigued. He didn't turn around, though, even though you could see he was itching to do so.

"I wanted to fix my mistakes instead of pushing them under the rug. And it was fine ━ you acting completely fine after doing something to make me upset ━ at first. But then you did it more and more until I was tired of it. And you told me you didn't want to stop, you told me that ━" Your sentence broke off into a hiccup as you felt the first few beads of tears roll down your eyes.

"I told you that you weren't worth me changing myself for," he said with remorse, completing your sentence. And that was when your defense crumpled and you let out a sob you felt all the way to your toes.

He cursed under his breath, his hand rubbing against his forehead. "I still can't turn around?" he asked, voice lower, in a way you'd never heard him speak to anybody before. He sounded concerned, way more concerned than he'd ever sounded. And oh, so regretful.

You didn't answer but you couldn't help but rest your head against his back, tears immediately falling to soak into his muscle tank. You noticed how his biceps flexed momentarily before he said, "You never let me fight for us. And you know I'm so good at that."

"Fighting?" you asked, words muffled by your cries. "Yeah, you are good at fighting."

"I'm sorry, Billy," you said instantly. "I ━ I don't know. I didn't think you needed closure."

"I couldn't show it when you seemed so . . . done with me," he said with a dry chuckle.

"I couldn't show you I wasn't because you seemed so done with me," you argued back, quieting down a bit.

"Let me fucking turn around, Y/N." You nodded your head against his back and he was quick to shift his stance.

Before you could take his face in, you were engulfed in his embrace. You felt a tear hitting your head, but that was it.

Billy rarely cried. And the burst of emotion today? It was unexpected and so very not-Billy-Hargrove.

"And I'm ... I'm sorry, too. I guess," he said, slightly shrugging his shoulders. "I wasn't great but I love ━ loved ━ you more than anybody else can. Trust me. I was scared, I'on know. Didn't wanna scare y'away."

And you didn't say anything to that. But you knew that you and Billy Hargrove had unfinished business. The random confrontation two months later following up hearing about him and the band-girl hooking up was exactly that ━ random. But you could only hope you would end up getting more than just closure with Billy.

#billy hargrove #billy x reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy #stranger things #stranger things imagines #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove angst #stranger things angst #angst #stranger things season 4

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mackjlee9 · 2 years

Note

I was off tumblr a while and saw your now writing tw! If it's OK (and requests are open?) . Could I request your top three dorm leaders (headcons) and what you think dating them be like? (I'm a big tw simp and soo happy your now writing them. all the characters are so cute <3) . If you don't do headcons (I didn't see if you do headcons so idk). If you don't then a cute confession (m/n or character confess up to you!) with your favorite dorm leader. Just want some nice fluff lol.

Let's make it both ☺, I love writing and whenever I can I'm so happy, even if it takes me hours or days to finish them.

Twisted Wonderland Dorm Leaders [Headcanons&Drabbles] [Fluff]

Who confessed, and what's like to date them? Let's find out!

I don't really have favorites dorm leaders, maybe Malleus, so I just wrote something for everyone and I was gonna pick my three favorites, but I like them all.

Warning; ooc!characters x male!mc/yuu

Masterlist.

Game; Twisted Wonderland

Riddle Roseheart

It was sudden, and off-putting, to say the least, but it occurred.

Riddle has been catching himself thinking about the Ramshakle Dorm prefect, more and more often. He felt happy yet nervous whenever he was nearby, not even talking to him, but when he was? Riddle's face would turn such a bright red, that everyone would think he was boiling with rage because they might've broken a rule without realizing it. But nope, he was just really embarrassed and anxious.

He made more mistakes than he was used -which weren't many-, he was always caught off guard whenever (M/n) decided to drop by to study with Ace and Deuce.

And during the dorm's unbirthday party, when he was taking deep breaths to calm his heart into a regular, steady rhythm, he saw (M/n) entering the rose maze.

He didn't look particularly stunning or anything, but the wide, bright smile he showed at them, followed by his name being called with such cheerfulness, it made Riddle's face erupt in red.

The Heartslabyul dorm leader got up from the table and rushed to some place where he could hide and cool down.

Ever since then, Riddle has been actively avoiding (M/n) as much as he could. Running off somewhere so he didn't have to see him, wide eyes as he struggled to get his face to its normal color.

His behavior caused (M/n) to believe the dorm leader hated him, which lead to him being questioned by Cater since he looked a little sad. He explained to the ginger male what had been going through his head, at which Cater only chuckled with a surprised look on his face.

"Riddle? Hate you? No, he's just running to hide, his face turns so red when he sees you, but he doesn't look mad." And that was what (M/n) needed to hear.

Analyzing Riddle's behavior closer, he began following whenever he ran off, catching him in a nervous wreck as he fanned his face with his hand. "Riddle?" His voice made the red-haired male jump in place, turning to look at him, before letting out a squeal and quickly turning around.

"Wha-what do you wa-want?" He stuttered, covering the lower half of his face with the back of his hand.

Frowning a bit, (M/n) stepped closer and made Riddle turn back around to face him, holding his warm, soft face with his hands.

Almost immediately, Riddle's blue eyes traveled to look at his lips, a dazed look in his eyes. (M/n) smirked and pressed a kiss on the shorter male's forehead, hugging him gently as he stroked his red hair.

"I like you, Riddle, and is a little hurtful when you run away from me, y'know?" Blinking as he processed by just happened, Riddle felt like he was about to pass out because of how hot his face was, but luckily, (M/n)'s arms had a good grip on him.

•You're the reason he bends the rules so easily now.

•If you do something first and the rest start doing the same thing, he can't get angry at you, so he just lets you go with a warning.

•He gets really embarrassed too.

•If you suddenly hug him or kiss him he would squeal, and proceed to hide from you.

•But if you assure him that he's just so cute and how much you love him, he can't handle it.

•His face gets bright red if you hug him tightly while leaving kisses all over his face.

•He loves the affection but is not used to it yet, so you'll have to go slow and wait for him to initiate anything more than a peck.

Leona Kingscholar

(M/n) was just checking on the botanical garden since Crewel asked him to get some specific plants for the next class, and of course, Leona was there, peacefully sleeping. He sighed as he looked at him for a few seconds, before heading father inside, where Crewel told him he'll find the plant.

Already there and after looking around for a few seconds, he put on his gloves and reached for the plant, taking some leaves off and putting them in the plastic container he was handed when he left the classroom.

He was able to hear the faint growl let out when he woke up, but he ignored him, he was almost done and he didn't want to make Crewel wait for too long.

The moment he was done, he turned around and started walking out the same way he walked in, showing a subtle smile at Leona who was letting out a soft yawn. "Herbivore," he said, standing up and walking up to them, patting (M/n)'s shoulder as he walked somewhere where the sun wasn't as bright. "I like you."

(M/n) was left speechless, such words were completely unexpected. That was so sudden, so of course he was raking his brain as he tried to come up with an excuse or explanation as to what that meant.

On his way to the class, he kept wondering if Leona was joking with him or if it was a prank...

"No, Leona is too lazy for that though."

And (M/n) decided to just keep going with his life.

However, the next day during break, (M/n) jumped at the sudden feeling of a pair of arms wrapped around his middle, he looked over his shoulder to see who it was, only to find Leona with his head resting on his back, almost falling asleep on him. (M/n) was so confused as to what was happening to the feline, and his friends were feeling a little intimidated by Leona's presence, so they muttered a quiet 'bye' and left.

"Leona-san? Do you need something?" He asked with a hesitant tone, asking himself how he would get out of this strange situation.

"I was waiting for you at the botanical garden, but you never showed up, so I came here." Was all he said in a slightly muffled mumble, (M/n) was able to understand him, but only barely.

"Why?" He asked with a puzzled look on his face, swiftly glancing down at his wrist where Leona's tail had wrapped around.

"Because we're dating now, I told you I like you yesterday."

•So it was real?!

•And now you're dating even if you didn't say anything back?!

•And you realized, "Who snitched?"

•"Ruggie"

•Well, at least you weren't painfully rejected, but now you had to bear a 185cm tall, at least 170lbs, lion-hybrid sleeping on top of you whenever he felt like it, sighing as your limbs -and pretty much your whole body- went numb.

•please crush me, I would die happy

Azul Ashengrotto

It was the rare occasion where the octotrio decided to swing around the Coral Sea. It had been such a long time since Azul had turned into his mer form, well, aside from when he overblotted -but no one talks about that-.

The three of them were just swimming around, Floyd and Jade swirling around Azul while they talked and laughed at memories they had from certain places. But suddenly, they went quiet, noticing how Azul seemed to be deep in thought... Well, more like daydreaming.

Azul, who had been tuning out whatever the twins were talking about, too busy remembering (M/n)'s voice. His laugh, his face, his personality, and how friendly and nice he was to him. He was too entranced in his memories, that he didn't notice when Floyd turned his body to look at him, a playful smile showing his sharp teeth.

"Thinking of your boyfriend, Azul-chan~" he teased him, causing Azul's eyes to open wide at those words, scowling at Floyd as he was about to tell him to shut up -and that he didn't have a boyfriend- when Jade followed his twin's teasing.

"He certainly may be missing prefect-san a lot, right?" How did they-?!

Feeling corned between the mischievous eels, Azul spat ink before turning around and swimming away, trying to find the biggest pot nearby, squeezing his big body inside it, feeling safer now that he felt the comfort of being inside a pot.

He felt like a kid again, running away and hiding from his bullies. But now he was hiding the embarrassment the twins' words caused.

As the minutes passed, Floyd and Jade eventually found Azul, since some of his tentacles were poking out of the pot.

While Jade was busy trying to get Azul out of the pot, Floyd kept teasing for a little while, until he got bored and started looking around for something to distract him.

But that wasn't the end of his embarrassment.

Back on Night Raven College, the first thing Floyd did when he saw (M/n) was tease him about how much Azul has been missing you while they were away. Cue a confused prefect who just blinked at him. Floyd didn't realize it, telling him what happened a few days ago.

(M/n) was taken aback, and he was pretty Floyd just snitched on Azul's feelings for him. But hey, this was his chance to go to Mostro Lounge and ask him out on a date, that is, if Azul decided to stop running away from him whenever he saw him.

•Dating Azul would be one way or the other.

•You teasing him along with the tweels, or you stopped them from doing so, realizing how flustered Azul looked.

•He had the habit of avoiding you when that happened. And you didn't want that.

•You had a special booth for you in Mostro Lounge, and you would often be greeted by Azul as he sat down to talk to you since he's been missing you all day.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim had no idea what it was, but he just kept wanting to give (M/n) more/better stuff than he gave to others, and he constantly wanted to be with him.

It wasn't like when he was with Jamil, it felt different.

He got nervous and excited which resulted in weird actions, like he found himself hugging (M/n) tighter or for longer. Wanting to be next to him all day. And he would be blushing, showing a bright smile whenever (M/n) would compliment him.

His reactions were cute, going from beaming with happiness, to flustered stuttering. (M/n) constantly teased him just to get those reactions out of him, making his heart beat faster whenever Kalim would shyly glance at him with his beautiful crimson eyes.

And Kalim loved seeing (M/n) wearing gold jewelry, especially those that he brought for him. Even if the prefect would usually refuse with a nervous smile, saying that it was too flashy or that he didn't have to waste money on him.

"Waste money? But I wanna buy things for you, (M/n)-san~," the puppy eyes he gave him were enough convincing for (M/n) to accept the piles and piles of jewelry Kalim gave him.

(M/n) wondered if he was reading into Kalim's action and affection too much, but well, it wouldn't hurt to try, right? The worst that could happen is he rejects him, which wouldn't be the first time it happens.

In the end, it worked out just fine.

•Just because you're dating now, nothing really changes, Kalim still constantly buys/gives you jewelry, which is his way of showing affection, and even if you think is too much, you take them.

•-he gets so sad otherwise-

•But you do explain that you don't need anything other than him.

•You're happy just by being with him, having fun together.

•Cooking together. Singing together. Dancing together.

•-of course, you help Jamil around, ordistractKalim, which gives Jamil some time to relax-

•He's very clingy, but it's okay, he's cute so you allow him.

Vil Schoenheit

The queen has arrived!

He was in disbelief, proceeding with denial. He fell in love with a spud, a potato. He couldn't believe it!

He was sitting on his vanity, his fingers pressed to his temples. He was stressed, which wasn't good for his skin, so he took a deep breath, and opened his eyes, staring at himself in the mirror. Vil's thoughts wandered back to the Ramshackle Dorm prefect.

(M/n)'s wasn't perfect, and he wasn't the most attractive guy in the school, so there had to be something that got Vil's attention, what it was? He had no idea, and wasn't feeling like thinking about it. So instead, he tried to imagine what (M/n) would be like if he did meet his standards for men...

He would be okay, but... it wouldn't be himself... Vil liked (M/n) the way he is, not really caring about his physical appearance or his bad language, they in a weird way, sort of complemented each other, lacking what the other had, (M/n) had his likes and dislikes, and so did he, after all, he couldn't force him to be someone he's not. So maybe, he could try something.

Vil gets a little bit more shy than usual, kinda nervous too whenever he sees (M/n) or he's near him. It took him a while, but eventually, those feelings he's not used to feeling would fade away, becoming a little bolder and openly flirting with (M/n).

However, the prefect doesn't seem to get the hint -because he's way too insecure-. On occasion, laying in bed as he remembered how close and touchy Vil was with him, he would feel embarrassed, his face heating up but he would always, always deny that Vil means it romantically.

"I mean... He's fucking gorgeous and I'm... an ugly, couch potato, why would he like me back?"

That's exactly what he says to Vil when the blond took him to his room.

Vil only stares at (M/n) in disbelief, he couldn't understand how and why someone so charmingly attractive would call themselves something so mean.

"You're not ugly, and definitely not a couch potato," his soft, warm hands cupped (M/n)'s face in them, holding eye contact with the now flustered male. "You're so beautiful, charming, handsome, and much more, but overall," Vil leaned closer until their foreheads were pressed together, "You're my sweet potato."

(M/n)'s eyes opened wide when Vil Schoenheit himself kissed him. He thought he was dreaming when the blond backed away.

I've been blessed

Vil couldn't help but blush as he stared at (M/n) dazed expression, as if he had just seen an angel. "You're gonna say something or you're just gonna look at me?"

Snapping back to reality -and realizing he wasn't in a dream-, (M/n) reached a hand to hold the back of Vil's neck, leaning forward and kissing him again. The blond gasped, soon closing his eyes as he leaned back slowly, now laying on his bed as his arms wrapped around (M/n)'s neck.

•At first, is a little weird, but slowly, it turns into a wholesome relationship, where he lets you do his hair.

•You help him practice his acting, singing or dancing.

•You lay in bed with him while he puts a face mask on you.

•He takes care of your hair, and if you're okay with it, he puts makeup on you and does your nails.

•If you don't want to or don't like it, he respects it, but he also expects you to learn how to do his makeup.

•He may not want to sleep over at your down, but he does host a campaign to collect funds to rebuild/repair the Ramshackle Dorm.

•(Grim is very happy about the tuna cans too)

Idia Shroud

When he realized it, he got scared. Really scared.

He's simping! And for a real person instead of a 2d character! What happened to him?!

Well, at least he could avoid embarrassment during those tedious Dorm Leaders meetings, where (M/n) was now present, that way he can't see him face to face, but he still gets really nervous and anxious though, so it doesn't help much.

Idia's yellow eyes are looking at (M/n) through the screen, hearing his voice loud and clear in his headphones, and just that, causing his hair to flare up in a hot pink color, his whole body shaking.

He can't help but hide his face -and hair- when he sees (M/n) walking nearby. Another reason why he won't be getting out of his room for a while.

But even so, (M/n) couldn't help the curiosity he felt towards Ignihyde's dorm leader, asking the other third years he know where he could find Idia. Of course, poor Idia can't bear the thought of being near him without freaking out and running away.

However, slowly but surely, he warms up to the Ramshackle dorm prefect, going as far as to invite him over to his room.

The moment (M/n) walks in he's a stuttering, anxious mess, wondering if there was something in his room he forgot to hide because it'll be so cringe if he saw it, and seeing (M/n) observing around his room makes him freak out.

He runs around the place, trying to prevent (M/n) from looking around too much -especially some sketches he had of the (h/c) haired male-, which only causes Idia to drop stuff to the floor. He's making himself look like a fool, and realizing that only makes him mess up even more. So, in a futile attempt, (M/n) kneels on the floor next to him, trying to get Idia to calm down, noticing how the third year's hair has been turning pink and orange for a little while now.

But that doesn't work quite well, ending up in Idia's hair flaring up even more, a mix of its natural blue, pink, and orange all mixed together.

"I can't calm down! Not when you're here, so close to me!" He exclaimed, his body shaking more aggressively than before, "I like you so much and you make me so nervous, I-I can't do stuff when you're near me and I-"

(M/n) stares at him surprised, while Idia had successfully stopped himself from saying more, however, it's already too late, he already spilled his feeling and now he was gonna be painfully rejected-

The feeling of (M/n)'s hand caressing his face gently seemed to calm him instantly, and he leans further in the warm touch.

"I like you too, Idia-kun."

•I doubt Idia has ever properly dated anyone, so you have to make sure he's not doing something out of his comfort zone, thinking that you may not like him otherwise.

•Just let him know that you don't care if he plays games every day, you actually wanna play with him.

•Ask him about programming and how to build a robot/machine.

•You'll see him as bright as ever, smiling and so happily explaining everything to you.

•In exchange, he wants to know about your world, how it is, and how you used to be.

•He wants to know everything about you.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is not sure what he feels and the name of it, but he likes being with (M/n), especially since he's not scared of him like everyone usually is.

He has a content smile when he sees (M/n) getting along with Lilia, Silver, and even Sebek. He loves the sound of his voice, his laugh, his smile, his jokes, and all the stories from his world.

Even if he didn't understand what he meant with his weird words such as 'simping' and 'sus/sussy', he was deeply and genuinely fascinated by (M/n) and where he comes from.

But the day (M/n) told him how he was "simping" over a real person he was a little confused, then he got worried. Did he like someone? Who was it?

"Actually, I may be in love with them, rather just simping," those words made Malleus freak out internally, on the outside he looked as composed as ever. "I think I'll confess, maybe they like me back."

Well, he couldn't do much. If (M/n) was in love with someone and wanted to date them he wasn't gonna stop him. So letting out a short sigh, he thought he could help him a bit.

"And who is this person that you like?" The wide smile that (M/n) showed him caught him off guard, especially since he seemed to be holding in a laugh.

"You."

It was such a simple and short response, yet such a cute confession coming from (M/n) caused a blush to erupt on Malleus's face, and he found himself at a loss for words, something that was a regular occurrence with the (h/c) haired.

•Our Prince of Fae is a little foreign to relationships but that doesn't mean he doesn't try to impress you any way he can.

•From buying you things to cooking for you, he can do anything.

•If you want/can, he'll let you style his hair every morning too, stopping by your dorm before going to class.

•He tells you about the fairies while you braid his hair and add some flowers toit.

•He loves it, and he realized he doesn't look as intimidating/scary as usual, so he keeps asking you to style his -really soft- hair.

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ask-pastkeirastarlight-discord · 2 months

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Upon entering the temple, the five were rather surprised to see that the inside seemed somewhat similar to Twilight's throne room. In the center of the room was a giant table with books and papers scattered all around the top. There was also a few chairs surrounding the outside of the table, though they weren't nearly as elegant as the thrones in Twilight's castle.

Discord: Funny how this seems like some pony's castle...

Keira: It sort of does! I wonder if there's a reason behind that?

Moondancer: Well, standing around here isn't going to solve anything. Let's look for something that might give some information about this place.

Every pony agreed and went their separate ways and started to investigate, save for Discord who sat down in one of the chairs and sat around.

The four ponies searched the room for about half an hour with nothing to show for it. The whole while, Discord sat with his chin on the table half asleep until he sat up for a moment.

Discord: Doesn't seem like there's anything around here...

Moondancer: You know, getting up and looking might help.

Before another squabble between Moon Dancer and Discord could break out, Heartistry spoke up. Heartistry: Hold on! Does any pony else hear something? Like a really slow and possible broken music box going off?

Every pony stopped completely and listened closely. Though it was unclear where it might've been coming from, a slow lullaby-like tune could be heard from a distance.

Moondancer: Hey, you're right. I can hear it too!

Timber: As can I!

Without realizing it, Keira started to hum along with the music. A few notes in, she came to a sudden realization.

Keira: Wait! I know this tune! This was the lullaby my mum used to sing to me as a filly!

Timber: Well what are you waiting for?! Maybe singing it will do something!

Heartistry, Moon Dancer, and Discord all then turned their attention to Keira, mostly curious to know what this song was. What they didn't realize is the effect they had on Keira in that exact moment.

#ask me #askme #mlp ask blog #ask-pastkeirastarlight-discord #story #my little pony #my little pony ask blog #discord #keira starlight #moon dancer #timber rush #heartistry

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flyingpurplepeopleprogrammer · 1 year

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Prototypes

[[This is a continuation of a story from a previous post, Duplicates. Similar content warnings apply.]]

Cora cooperated.

Her trainer helped her, and nothing asked of her was markedly distressing. Not exactly pleasant, sure, but not markedly distressing. They'd gone through it all with her: it was a great long list with a lot of terms she didn't fully understand, but the trainer she'd been sat with took the time to explain it to her.

The trainer explained that she was still in the very earliest part of the list: "cognitive, sensory, and motor evaluation." - testing her mind and her body to make sure everything worked right. For that, she might be strapped into a brace to hold her head still while they tested or eyes or her ears or her brain. They'd test her reflexes and her ability to control seemingly every muscle in her body from her eyebrows to her toes - and they did mean every muscle. It might've been a little embarrassing, but the trainer had made it clear that they simply couldn't leave parts of her untested because they were private. She had to be able to live a full life when she finished her indenture.

And those words: "finished", "over", after". She had to remember that there was an end, they'd said. "It might be difficult at first, but you have your freedom to look forward to."

There was the counseling, too. They'd almost treat her like a person, then. For just an hour, every day, she'd sit with this or that white coat and they'd ask how she felt or what she wanted: another procedure. A necessity for her rehabilitation into society once her testing was up.

It would only take about a year. All she had to do was cooperate. And the quicker she got through it, the sooner she'd be able to go. Once she was done, she could do whatever she wanted to do. That was the promise.

It was better than the vivisection table.

The trainer had never said that - not exactly. Implied it, maybe. Between her rehabilitation counseling and her busy memory, she wasn't even sure if she remembered it right. Maybe she'd read too far into what had been said.

If she didn't cooperate, her current copy would be decommissioned and she would be restored to a previous instance and handled with the utmost humanity. They wouldn't waste the previous her, but… why was the thought of that so terrifying?

No. Whether she misheard or not, there would be no New Coras. Not if she could help it.

She didn't know, of course, that there already were.

Showing that she would willfully cooperate so early on had been useful, of course. The behavioural data from this Cora was simply invaluable. It would make her later training so much simpler.

But it was still too soon and too coercive. She was accepting - yes - but she was also afraid. And Cora™ was not intended to be a fearful, broken toy. They'd keep training this specimen - keep testing and evaluating it -, but it would not become Cora™. It was simply a failed prototype. At best, it could be repurposed as an experimental model.

And while this Cora resolved to earn her freedom, New Cora was already starting her first days, meeting her new counselors and trainers, and learning about her place in life.

New Cora wouldn't be given the chance to rebel like this Cora had. New Cora would be better.

#mine #story #brainwashing #conditioning #indentured experimentation #objectification #non-consent

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picardsims · 10 months

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get to know me tag

I was tagged by @salemssimblr (thanks Salem <3) this is my first ever ask game I've been tagged in 😳😳

I'll put it under a readmore in case someone's not here for this

show your wallpaper and the last song you listened to.

this is my wallpaper on my laptop (art by me). When I needed to use Linux for university stuff this was my setup:

the last song I've listened to is Hozier's Unknown/Nth (youtube link) I am obsessed with the bridge.

currently reading?

Dennett's From Bacteria to Bach and Back, although I'm very good at *not* reading it and having it on my table. I swear I'll finish it this summer.

last movie?

I'm not a big movie person, so probably one of the things I've forced a friend to watch with me. Last film I've seen at the cinema was Everything Everywhere All at Once (for the second time).

last show?

Finishing season 6 of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. It's such a good show.

craving?

Chocolate. There's probably some in my fridge.

what are you wearing right now?

Patterned flowy pants, a black tanktop full of cat hair and socks (not matching but they're the same color and have no holes as far as I know. a success)

how tall are you?

an exact 170 cm (that's almost exactly 5'7, I've had to google that so many times)

piercings?

Nope, not even my ears.

tattoos?

None, but maybe at some point I won't feel like I'd immediately get bored of whatever I got... I'd like some.

glasses or contacts?

glasses. I had one (very failed) attempt at learning how to put in contacts and decided it's not for me.

last thing you ate?

spinach pierogi <3 courtesy of visiting my parents

favorite color?

fun fact: i've never had a favorite color so I just steal the favorite color of people I care about. That way seeing my favorite color makes me happy cause I'm thinking about them :> Currently it's red. I do have a favorite number though, it's always been 8.

current obsession?

I'm kind of in between obsessions right now, but I've been itching to get back to blender for a while since my laptop was broken (a friend fixed it and now it's back :>)

any pets?

here's a portrait of not technically my (she belongs to my partner) cat. She's fat and grey and her favorite hobby is drinking water from a glass or a cup and chewing on plastic packaging.

favorite fictional character?

the entire cast of DS9 has my heart forever. But also (as you might've guessed already) Captain Picard from TNG.

last place you traveled?

across the country with my parents visiting family :>

I'm tagging @angelgnomesims, @buttertrait and anyone who would like to do it too (tag me if you do, I love getting to know people!)

#tag game #not sims

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trashlie · 1 year

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ILY FP 215 and 216 spoiler ///

wah i missed your ily commentary so much, tysm for taking the time to share your thoughts ❤️

i agree with you on so many things - similarly to you, i've been going back and forth on whether nol has been developing romantic feelings or not. he's so deep in the dark that for now i believe shinae is the light he can't help but be drawn to. and that may or may not imply something romantic, so for now his feelings are a schroedinger's cat type of situation. what's probably going to be a theme from now on is how shinae is able to calm nol down, be "a silence he likes". we've seen this during the confrontation with kousuke, when nol's anger was starting to boil up, she touches his shoulder and he snaps out of it. similarly, when he wakes up in the hospital and starts panicking, he immediately calms down when he sees her. also, her birthday is written on the morphine drip, so the symbolism is pretty straightforward - she relieves his pain. now i hope this isn't going to transform into a "she will fix him" kind of thing, but it looks like he will lean on her more.

i'm not sure if i agree with you that nol would've died that night if kousuke hadn't followed him. the way i interpret it, the fall on the glass table isn't the main cause of the life-threatening injury - it's kousuke's repeated physical assault. the punch/fall likely gave nol a head injury/bruises and the glass got into his coat then, but he still seemed mostly okay. sure, maybe it's the adrenaline that kept him going, but like, he registered pain (he flinched when he stepped on the broken glass), but he wasn't reacting (yet) to his neck at all. there was no blood anywhere (not even in the snow where he walked). it's only after kousuke attacks him again that he starts touching the back of his neck, and a red hue appears on his coat. when kousuke slams him into the ground, there's also a panel where he flinches and the colours are inverted, which imo is meant to signify intense pain. and i feel like this is the moment the glass shard cut deep into him and cause the damage.

would've nol collapsed and died eventually any way? honestly i'm not sure. maybe. at the very least, kousuke's attacks definitely worsened the injuries. but at the same time, like you said, it took nol almost dying to finally receive a moment of peace. it's twisted, but in some sense... if not for kousuke almost killing him, nol really might've just disappeared into the night and then went to jail the next day.

and isn't it so representative of kousuke and nol's entire dynamic, too? the fight could've been a goodbye between the brothers. nol has finally managed to break kousuke out of his shell, and in turn, is now giving kousuke's what he's always wanted (disappearing). they could have left it at that, nol wanted to leave it at that. but of course, kousuke STILL thinks nol's scheming something, chases after him again to get him under his control, and by doing so, causes him more pain and misery like he always does. obviously kousuke doesn't want to actually kill his brother... and given kousuke's mental state, it's not all black and white... but there's definitely blood on kousuke's hands now.

btw multiple people have pointed out a really interesting detail in kousuke's flashback of nessa and nol (same chapter): nessa tells nol there's a spider on the back of his neck (actually it's just the tag of his shirt sticking out), and that he needs to stay still, or the spider will bite him. she puts a lot of emphasis on the neck being very sensitive, which seems like such a random thing, but where does nol end up getting injured, in the present, after this flashback? the back of his neck! someone also pointed out that "spider" in this context might be a symbol, and that it might relate to yui and how it's her web of manipulation, and kousuke as her pawn, that ended up almost killing nol. in typical yui fashion, by pulling her strings without actually making her hands dirty. what do you think?

sorry this got so long. enjoy your watercolor drawings, that sounds fun ❤️

Aaaahhhh aahhhh yay welcome back!!! I have definitely missed these asks and getting to build off your ideas! I'm trying SO HARD to learn how to balance life and it's SUCH A DIFFICULT THING TO DO but!!!! I'm not going to waste any time replying to this - gotta get to it while it's still hot!!!

I love love looove how you put it - that Shinae is the light that Nol is drawn to. I think quimchee has been very good about how she's set things up to ensure that Shinae won't take on a "fix it" role, which is such a cliche! Actually, and I'll try to keep this brief lest I go off on a tangent, but I still think about the way Kousuke and Nol were set up as romantic lead tropes - "the asshole with a heart of gold", "the nice guys who finishes last" - and how ordinarily, the asshole with the heart of gold would be the character who gets the fix-it love interest and instead, it's the "nice guy" (I have started this post so many times - Nol as the "second lead" tropes and how he defies them all because he was never the totality of how he's presented but I never like where it's going lol). But yes, all that said, I think Shinae has been presented wonderfully as a catalyst, rather than a fixer. I also agree that because Nol is in such a place of darkness, it's hard to know if that light will simply be guidance or develop into anything else. I love a good gradually falling story, where somewhere along the line, those "roles" blur and what used to be platonic comfort becomes the kind of comfort you want to spend forever with - but I think there's just no room for that kind of concept with him, yet. He's spent so long denying himself any kind of joy or happiness he deems undeserved; the idea of wanting someone's presence forever is probably far from his mind, yet.

But that said, I think it sets up fantastic potential for Shinae becoming the person Nol turns to and comes to depend on, the person he goes to for bad as well as good, and I LOVE that as a set up for romance lol. Realizing this person is more than a lifeline, this person is the person who makes you feel happy to be alive. (I'm saying this loosely here because the phrasing makes it feel so much like an unhealthy dependence, but rather I mean we have good potential for Nol feeling glad he never made the choice to give up, lest he had missed out on everything that would follow, you feel me?)

Also I really like your interpretation of the injury! I admit I like the flare of dramatics and thinking of the most dire timeline lol but I think that's a good point. The way I'd been thinking it was that yeah, it was partly adrenaline, partly trying to will it away and that the bleeding hadn't yet gotten through his clothes. Once in 6th grade, a friend of mine was in band class and he stepped on his music stand accidentally and it swung over and cut him across the forehead. He laughed about it to a friend, unaware that he was BLEEDING. He told us he just didn't feel anything! It wasn't until someone else pointed it out and he had to go get stitched up! (Funny enough, this was on his birthday LMAO I had forgotten that detail until now!) But right, I think you are probably more right about this - that at any rate, Kousuke made the injuries worse.

It's taking everything I have in me to NOT go on a Kousuke and Nol tangent, and I hope I have the time and energy to write it up tomorrow, because I'd like to do it before the next episode, lest it derail me lol. A thought that's been hanging around me is that I think Kousuke doesn't actually want Nol to leave - on a very deep, subconscious level that he wasn't really aware of. He pushes him away and does what he can to prevent Nol from rising above him, but his acknowledgment that "nobody" liked him - nobody being young Nol before Kousuke beat him down - makes me wonder if he's realized that in some way he didn't want Nol to leave. I don't think it meant he wanted to like him lol so much as Nol was the yardstick against which he measured himself, and in a dark, toxic way, he needed Nol to stay around to keep him from being truly alone. Idk, there's a lot of thoughts there that I'll try to come back to but it makes what you said ever more interesting - the blood is now on Kousuke's hands.

Is there any way to ever recover from this? How can he and Nol ever resolve their issues? How can they ever find peace, with the way things stand? I had always hoped that, eventually, they would make peace, reconcile, find a way to be at peace, but with these events, it's hard to imagine how that would happen. (I mean, there's so much story to yet unfold lol so I'm not saying there's no hope! Just stating that the story has set itself up in a way that keeps me keen to see how it all pans out!)

Good point, also, about Nessa! I had been more focused on the cold juxtaposition between Nessa and Nol's warmth vs Yui and Kousuke to pay attention to the emphasis on the neck! That's a good way to look at it, too - everything is a web of Yui's making, right down to Kousuke. He, too, is as much a victim as Nol and Shinae. Without knowing yet what really happened with Nessa, there feels like a sense of Nessa protecting Nol - until she could no longer. (I think we've seen this played out with Nana, too; under her care, Nol was safe. Again, used loosely because danger still befalls him, but Nana has stood toe to toe with Yui before.) I wonder how much more of that past we'll get to see - surely we'll, at some point, be privvy to Yui and Nessa interactions? Or speaking of each other or... something? But that's a whole OTHER tangent.

ANYWAY wow I really lost myself replying to this lol I'm sorry if it feels all over the place - I am jumping all over the place!

Thank you for also bringing up Shinae's birthdate! I hadn't noticed that, but god I really love that. Shinae gives him peace, Shinae brings him comfort, Shinae can drown out the storms. UGH. I'M SUCH A SUCKER FOR THAT! Like, again, this is all just speculation at this point and possibly even conjecture lmao but I just love the way they are set up! Even if it's not set up for romance. I love Shinae becoming the beacon of light to the person who became light to her. THE WAY SHE ADMITTED THAT SHE WAS JUST TRYING TO EMULATE HIM!!!! DOING THE THINGS HE DID FOR HER! ALL SHE DID WAS TRIED TO BE LIKE HIM!!!!! SHE JUST WANTED TO BE THE FRIEND HE WAS TO HER and now SHE is that bright ray of sunshine to his gloomy cloud! She's the one making him open his eyes! I JUST! LOVE! THAT SO MUUUUUUCH.

It makes me wonder even more where we're headed. Nol clearly isn't immediately going off to jail yet - he's got a LOT of recovering to do, but what happens when that time comes? There's no way he can continue to try to evade them right? Surely by now he's accepted that at the very least, Shinae will do whatever she wants? Do we get to see him admit it to himself - that he doesn't want to leave? I was looking at 151 again because I'm a masochist and the whole "do you want to disappear? I don't want you to disappear" especiallyyyyyyyy juxtaposed against Kousuke spending his whole life trying to make him disappear.

I love them ;~;

#I Love Yoo #ILY Spoilers #ILY FP #ILY Brainrot #Shinae Yoo #Nol #Nolan Oliver T. Lochlainn #Stalkyoo #Aegi #the shipping commentary on my end is all speculative lol but i'm feeling it okay!#i just feel like in spite of all the tragedy that has brought us here #in spite of this whole wretched night #this little moment of calm this pocket of peace this little ray of light #;~;#THEY DESERVE THIS #I WANT MORE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #this whole arc has been amazing i will never shut up about it

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thecrabbybarista · 1 year

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Day 6 and 7: Candle and Games @12daysofhatchetfield

The middle of December was tense, Emma had heard, for every one of Pokotho's carolers. But she was more than just tense. She was filled with ... Well she didn't know. She didn't feel very often.

Whenever she saw the ballerina she was filled with some kind of innate loathing. She wanted it away from her. But she couldn't find any good reason to destroy it.

She didn't know where to look. Her brain was foggy, so she didn't think to look there. She couldn't look in her past, because it had been erased. It was something known inside of her somewhere. Some sad rage for something long gone.

I can't say she would've been better off if she had found the reason. She couldn't change anything. She might've wanted to destroy the remnants of what was broken even more.

She lit a candle on her desk.

The ballerina watched from the window of the dining room, the sight of a lit candle seeming just a bit familiar. What was it...

A family gathering... Lots of food... A game... And a hint of youth. A tradition she must have abandoned at some point, for reasons she couldn't tell, but a tradition important to her nonetheless.

It was an impossible memory. She never had a family. She couldn't eat, either. She felt some faint ache in her. Quickly, it was gone. Today was a day to celebrate. She knew that much. And so was tomorrow and tomorrow and... So on.

She had to fetch things from her closet.

She grabbed a toy candlestick. She couldn't light any of the plastic candles, but it was nice to look at nonetheless. She put it on the windowsill. She had collected some little coins, too. She set them on the table.

When she returned to the closet, it seemed larger. She could step inside.

The wooden toy was about half her height. It was some sort of top, with four sides. Each side, she saw as she turned it around, had a unique symbol.

They were readable, she could tell, just not to her.

She dragged it into the dining room.

The teddy bear had come in, looking for the ballerina. "What is that? What's going on?"

"I don't know! I just think there's some celebration happening, so I'm decorating. Do you know what it is?"

The teddy shook his head. "No. I'm brand new."

"That's right... Do you know what this is?" She patted the top of the toy she had found.

"No."

"I think it's important. What should we do with it?"

"Let's make up a game, maybe!"

The ballerina tried to call the rules to mind.

#starkid #tgwdlm #black friday #emma perkins #nightmare time #paulkins #paul matthews #day 6 #day 7 #long post

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gaycaelus · 1 year

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HI @fwippedowbit APOLLO !!! hope u like it :D accidentally deleted half of it but it's Okay LMAO

Title: Hard Reset

part 1 of ??

—————

summary: Fresh inquires to Ink about the possibility of creating an all-feeling soul from scratch, only an uninvited guest shows up, and he deals with it himself.

———————————————

you know..

its really hard to get rid of a mind controlling parasite when you think about it. it knows your thoughts, your actions before you execute them- killing it would be a big hassle for anybody.

killing it gets even harder when it controls your emotions, or at least, what little of them you've got left. constantly making you feel an artificial form of overwhelming joy when hurting somebody would make anyone feel alienated.

.. and thats why Fresh is here, sitting by himself, back to the wall and head in his hands while he thinks about it.

no, it's not just a flickering thought, or a fleeting idea soon dismissed, he really thinks about it, taking the few moments of uncontrolled haze he has, while he has it, to really think.

could he obtain an all feeling soul? maybe, he or somebody else could make one for him, it's just a matter of if he'll survive the initial absorption.

he probably won't, but those few seconds of genuine feelings would definitely be enough to make him happiest he'd ever genuinely been, well, ever; for his last few moments.

hes willing to risk it.

so he stands and stretches, playing a guessing game on where Ink might be, finally spotting him in an empty au, the infrastructure damaged beyond repair and all signs of organic life whittled away to nothing. the trees have grayed, the grass showing clear signs of past fires, and whatever remnants of a house there is has been burned, cut, and bombed.

he tries to care about what might've happened here, the lives people lived, but nothing comes up. he sighs.

he observes for a moment, the way Ink skips through the broken house he took temporary residence in using it for all sorts of experiments, via: the empty vials, dirty paintbrushes, ripped, folded, and taped papers.

he tiptoes, peaking his head through the door to observe Inks.. experiment.

empty vials sectioned into leather holders, held up by a glass stand nailed to the wall, and next to it a splash of black ink running off the table and blue strings mixed in with it.

he blinks, before knocking on the half open door and stifling a laugh as Ink jumps in his spot, before turning to the door and swinging it open to spot him snickering and standing in the doorway.

"Oh!" he exclaims, "I didn't expect to see you here! Come in, I've been preparing something."

okay, odd. whatever. he doesn't have time to care.

he steps into the room and is immediately met with the pungent smell of ink and burnt wood, taking a moment to really look around at this little workshop he'd made.

he waves the space on front of him, "Yeesh, whatcha been cookin in here?"

"I've been trying to find a serum to sort of.. restore previously wiped AU's."

Fresh shuffles uncomfortably where he's standing, listening to inks incessant rambling.

"Maybe if I could just get all the components needed for a fresh reinstall, we could get a few back. Or maybe all of them!"

he doesn't have time for this.

"Ink, I, uh.." he starts, to no avail, as Ink has started tinkering with his contraption again.

"Hey," he says, just a bit louder this time, "I need to ask you for a favor."

Ink carefully puts down his equipment, dusting off his sleeves and facing him with a grin and bright eyes.

"What's up? How can I help?"

Fresh grimaces.

I hate how good you are at faking this.

Me and you both know we're emotionless freaks. Why do you keep trying?

"I was uhm, wonderin if you could make me something."

Ink blinks. "Like what?"

well — it's complicated.

"I was wonderin if you could make me a soul that experiences emotions. none of the uh.. artificial stuff."

there was silence, before an understanding look flashed across inks face.

"Ooohh, I see."

Ink turns to his desk, waving his hand before a catalog of defunct aus pop up on a floating screen, all with a grey 'neutral' in place of where a 'corrupted', 'salvaged' or 'active' would be.

"Theres some worlds here that have remaining souls left from other monsters from aus that have fizzled out due to whatever reason. if I can find one that hasn't been tampered with I could hop in, grab it, and bring it back here."

Fresh walks up next to him, almost grimacing a little.

"How long would it take? To get the soul, I mean. Not the entire.. process."

"Maybe a day or two? it depends on where the soul is and how reliable it's state of condition is at that moment in time."

".. Reliable?"

Ink smiles, "Reliable, yes! If you want to construct a soul that works as good as you're wanting it to be, then it has to be what I call reliable. Still relatively new from whatever host it used to inhabit, no outside damage done that may prohibit it from working normally, all that."

Fresh blinks, taking a pace back. "Oh."

'Host', 'Inhabit'. he repeats.

host. inhabit. host. inhabit.

his head starts to hurt. he's been here too long already. he can't be here much longer.

"I.. need to go, actually, I'll see you later.. thanks though." he barely manages to say, before turning and trying to leave.

Ink turns, confused. "Oh- are you sure?" he makes a pathetic attempt at grabbing his arm, "I could-" before Fresh inevitably snaps his head around and yanks away.

"What's your problem? just let me leave!" he snaps.

Ink backs away, surprised. "Calm down! I didn't mean to, I was just trying to ask you something-"

host. inhabit. host. inhabit.

it's like a howl, blocking out any other noise, and he doesn't wanna listen any longer.

his eyes burn.

"I don't care! Just- look, my head hurts, I need to go-"

"Are you crying?" Ink asks, maybe a bit too genuinely, interrupting him in the process.

he stops, glares at Ink, before wiping under his glasses.

a purple liquid with smoke emanating off it.

"Im leaving, I don't want to be here anymore," he says, turning and finally leaving the room, leaving Ink confused and slightly annoyed, all by himself.

he looks around anxiously, making sure that one: Ink isnt watching him, and two: nobody else sees him. once the coast is clear, he teleports himself to a part of the anti-void even error doesnt know about.

it's a small room, really. maybe a couch, a desk and a mirror, but that's it. he likes the dark, instead of the harsh white glow from empty aus Ink used to have him scavenge for traces of Cross or Dreams presences.

"Stupid glasses," he mumbles, ripping them off and throwing them to the floor, shards of glass cascading across the ground.

he stares in the mirror at himself, and he hates what he sees.

"I'm not supposed to look like this. This is wrong, this is all wrong, that damn parasite— I'm miserable, Im–"

he stops his incessant rambling, getting an idea.

"I could just kill it." he whispers.

he doesn't care if it kills him, he doesn't care if the soul Ink is making for him goes to waste or to somebody who doesn't deserve it.

he just wants to feel again, none of the artificiality or fleeting moments of genuine emotions.

he calms himself down, slinking to the wall and taking a deep breath.

he's got only one chance, if he wakes up tomorrow he doesn't that know what he'll do. probably go annoy error more than he usually does, even if he gets to walk another day.

he tilts his head down, and like clockwork, the parasite hosting him crawls out to inspect it's surroundings.

host, inhabit, drain. it yells.

he grabs onto one of it's arms, ignoring the way it screams and digs into his hands, cracking them and making them bleed.

before it's made another move, he exhales, blood now forming a small pool on the floor and maybe even his shoes.

and he yanks down, and rips it out.

#making a part 2 btw. i Hhate cliffhangers #cloub chatter #my writing #AGAIN. HOPE ITS OKAY #tumblr accidentally Ate half of it after a glitch n i almost killed a man LMFAOO

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inun4ki · 5 months

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"I can see you struggling. Take your time. I'm listening." //Yanna

for muses who can't open up

They'd been sitting on a park bench for what'd felt like hours - talking, as if anything Kaede'd had to say had mattered. Maybe it was merely Yanna's nature to listen, to participate, to sit beside him and know something was wrong - she was good like that, maybe better than he deserved. Makeshift family, the closest thing he had to a grandmother that might've loved him once, found by chance circumstance long after the damage had been done and the dust had settled. There would be no repairing what's broken, burying the truth, ignoring the pain, pretending, hiding, sneaking, lying--

He owed her an explanation, he owed her something. Surely, Yanna could only take so much of his reckless abandon in combat, his incessant and inevitable self-mutilation as necessary and extra curricularly, his occasional blackouts and failing memory, crude and vulgar malcontent, flashbacks, anxiety--

What would she think of him, if he told her...? Would she still fight alongside him? Would she trust him to protect her as she protects him? Or would her opinion of him change, morph from the almost-tender and pleasant into paranoia, judgment, and uncomfortable tension that crackles and burns? Would she think him weak and foolish, clawing at himself to distract himself from his responsibilities and the pain he'd caused? Would she think him a coward...? Fingertips nervously tugged through long violet strands, catching on too many tangles at a time - he yanked his fingers through. Again, and again, silently drifting further and further into the agonizing cess pool poisoning his mind. He didn't want her to point all the same fingers at him as Kurai - he didn't want her to think he'd have been better off dead, too, that everything would be fine and everyone would still be alive if he'd never taken his first breath. He didn't want her to see his shame, his inaction, his cowardice. He didn't want her as the frightened and inept child he really was. He couldn't bear it. The idea of it alone caused his chest to tighten, his throat to sorely close, his body already screaming in its preparation to run.

But he owed her. He owed her something.

Gnawing on his lower lip, head bowed, gaze affixed to dirt and the sparse tuft of grass just beginning to peek through it, he made himself smaller. Shoulders sloped forward, thighs and calves firmly pressed together, spine slouching...with his hair to hide every bit of his face as his toes curled into the dirt. But his breaths caught on the knot in his throat and his teeth chattered, fear sparking into a roaring flame that burned and burned and burned in the pit of his stomach. Ripping the band-aid off and telling her was all he could do, and no matter how kind and gentle to him she'd been, she expected an answer... Why did this have to be so hard? Why couldn't he trust in turn, trust that he might be held with warmth and care and understanding and acceptance and-- Why couldn't he let it go?

He swallowed again, trying his damnedest to maintain any semblance of stoic composure, fingers shifting from his hair to the fabric concealing his wrists and picking at the seams, but he was failing - and he'd no choice anyway.

"T-twenty years ago," he rasped shakily, words like ash in his mouth. "Twenty years ago, there was... a massacre. Over sixty members of my clan were slaughtered and fed upon by curses and I...I watched them. I hid under the dining room table and cried, watching as my cousins were taken one by one and killed by my grandfather. I was stronger than they all were - I didn't know how to wield it, but still, I was stronger than them. I could've-should've done something, but I let them die... My grandfather was also killed, by the time the bloodshed had come to an end. He'd brought those curses into the estate and unleashed them upon us all, and no one knew why - but that was my fault too. He was already showing signs of severe mental instability, but the facilitation of my birth sent him spiraling. I only fanned the flames of his paranoia, the terror he already had that one day, he'd be usurped and any threats to his hold over the family must be dealt with. He planned to use me as a vessel in some desperate vie, to take my strength for his own, and in the midst of enacting this plan, the curses he'd aligned with turned on him and ripped him limb from limb. He left...a journal, outlining his plan in great detail. I found it hidden beneath the estate one night when I'd been punished for covering for Aoi and Terin again, tucked under the straw and floorboards in the cell - where no one else could possibly find it or bother to go looking."

He couldn't stand being vulnerable like this, couldn't stand talking about his family history, being seen, heard, known for even a moment. He wanted to trust her. Wanted to believe this would be okay. It was far too late to back out now. His heart and stomach lurched in tandem, his ears beginning to ring.

Please don't change your mind... Please don't turn your back on me.

His thoughts were beginning to get to him, a childlike urge to crumple and cry washing over him. The longer he dragged this out, the more pathetic and miniscule he felt, the more cowardly and weak. Kurai would've turned him away, and Aoi vowed never to speak to him again after Terin's death... They blamed him for it all, and rightfully so. Had he been able to do something, he could've used their techniques to exorcise the curses quickly and no one would've had to die... Had he not been born, Taisho would've been dealt with sooner. Terin would still be alive. Mom, too...

"I took the journal to my father - everyone deserved to know the truth behind what my grandfather was planning. I thought it would be closure for them, to finally have a real explanation... I even thought the same for myself. I didn't realize, at the time, that I was handing them my own confession. Everything begins with Taisho, but ends with me. I may as well have killed them all myself. I've no right to sit beside you now, when there's so much blood on my hands, because it's not just them I'm responsible for but countless others... People who were simply doing what they needed to in order to survive among curses and killers and the other perils of every day life, working to achieve their dreams no matter how benign or totally fucked-- I'm just as guilty. I fight to redeem myself, but I can't wash away the stains. Yet, even-even so... I don't want you to think of me as any lesser. I don't want you to see me as the sort of person who would condemn his family to death through inaction and cowardice."

#死/// Inquiries.#死/// Blood of the Covenant; Yanna.#self harm mentions /#/ nothing crazy tho. just a passing reference for effect #/ also his feelings are really just amped up anxiety. sadness. & survivor's guilt w/ a dash of #' i don't want you to think of me the same way everyone else does '#' i hate that i feel like i *have* to tell you...but i want you to trust me. i don't want you to go away '#/ the big sad as u kno #/ he's laying *a lot* on yanna rn but i think it's reasonable to say they'd probably sit down and talk about this at some point anyway #/ he's trying to be objective but you can kind of see that even tho he hates it he kind of...agrees with his family #/ and there are passing references to some of the things they'd to do him #/ v sad #/ also i'm sorry this is a mile long

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bonny-kookoo · 2 years

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Jungkook: Aggressor 🔞 (1)

In which Jungkook doesn't care what needs to be done, or what bones need to be broken. He'll do anything, if it means he gets to put food on the table- and gets to keep you safe. He promised, after all.

Tags/warnings: violence, angst, blood and wounds, mentions of abandonment and homelessness, bounty hunter!Jungkook, guns, wanted!Reader, crimes, murder, reader canceled someone's life subscription in self defense oops, jungkook is a little cold but he's soft inside trust me, I know it doesn't seem like it, there is a little fluff if you squint, put your contacts in its there I promise, swearing, listen it's not a children's tale haha, smut, protected bc yes, we wrap it even as criminals, handjob in a bathroom oops², dark humor, Jeon Bam as the best bodyguard of all times

Jungkook and you have met under.. less than unfortunate circumstances.

You were absolutely terrified, having just shot someone- probably killing them in the process. Taking someone's life had never been on your bucket list- after all, you're a nobody, nothing to your name of any worth that could somehow explain your actions. Maybe that was why the guy had dragged you into that dirty hotel room- just to take advantage of you, and toss you away later on. You've simply caught on too quickly, and defended yourself against whatever horrors you might've experienced instead that night.

You've jumped out the window that day- your entire shin still scratched and wrapped in some torn parts of your dress. It felt gross.

But it wasn't as bad as the guy that stands before you now, gun pointed at your head as his piercings glisten in the faint lights somewhere close by. His gaze is hard- but there's a hint of surprise lingering, as he hesitates to shoot. It's been two days since you've committed your crime- and considering the hotel room and the fact that you'd been picked up by a man in a dark suit, expensive fabrics never to be touched by hands like yours, you already knew he'd been someone important- or at least, someone with way more value to his head than compared to yours.

"You gotta be shitting me." He scoffs under his breath, before he squats down, gun still steadily pointed in case you suddenly got any crazy ideas. He looks at you now a little closer, scanning the way you hide behind the cardboard boxes and dumpsters- eyes wide and scared as if they belonged to a deer looking down the barrel instead. He can't imagine your hands ever taking someone's life, let alone hurt someone in the first place.

Jungkook had never slacked on a job.

But he's also no monster- there's still a chunk of his soul left, parts that tell him to do what's right, rather than just blindly follow whatever he's told. It's the main reason he's good at what he does. He doesn't need anybody to tell him what he should do, or how he should do it. He knows himself. He knows how. He doesn't follow anybody but himself.

You flinch at the sudden movement of his gun, as he quickly unloads it again, sliding the safety back in before he puts it where it usually sits- Still squatting in front of you however. "So you're the one who shot the old guy?" He scoffs, and you just- stare at him. You don't know what he wants to hear, or what you're supposed to say- if there was even anything you could do right or if all you were able to do was wrong now. He doesn't seem fazed however, as he scans you over yet again. "Well shit. Deserved it, if a fucking ghost like you can take him out like that." He mumbles, before he gets up again, turning away from you. "If I ever see you again, I'll shoot you." He warns, before he leaves the alley, not looking back at you.

And you don't know what you're supposed to do now- or rather, where to go in the first place.

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bts imagine #bts jungkook imagine

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bumblesimagines · 3 years

Text

Green Thumb

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

For anyone confused, (Y/N) was around 17 when he fought the Avengers and was taken in and now he's 18-19. Lowkey a filler to develop/show (Y/N)'s relationship with Laura and Clint

You stared up at the large wooden house, a soft breeze blowing by that made you tugged down the sleeves of the sweater you were wearing. Clint turned off the engine of his motorcycle, looking up at you. You furrowed your brows and turned towards him, glancing at the darkening sky.

"What is this place?" You asked, watching him curiously Clint stood beside him, gazing fondly at the house. He looked at you with a gentle smile.

"My home."

"Home?"

"Yep, home. The only other people who know about this place are Fury and Natasha." Clint revealed, making your brows raise. You looked back at the house. It was homey for sure. Far from the city with nature surrounding it. A perfect place to raise a family and live a quiet life. You bit your bottom lip, gently wrapping your arms around yourself.

"So, why’d you bring me here?" You asked. If it was such a big secret that not even Tony or Steve knew about it, why would he share it with you? You weren’t even part of the team. You were just a child that they had to take in. Clint placed a gentle hand on your back.

"You need some fresh air and a break from the shit back at the tower. Come meet my wife and kids." Clint said, walking towards the house. You slowly followed, still unsure about the whole thing. You didn’t know why Clint trusted you so much. Not even a couple weeks back, you had attempted killing him and the Avengers. You had heard Tony mention Clint having a habit of taking in strays so you assumed you were just another person Clint wanted to help. The aroma of food filled your senses, making you let out a soft hum. Clint had heard it, chuckling as he stepped into his home. You followed, noticing the pictures on the walls and scattered drawings.

"Laura, I’m home!" Clint called out into the house, following the light from the kitchen. You noticed some legos laying around, looking up as a woman approached Clint and greeted him with a kiss.

"How was work?" She asked softly, smiling. You could see two kids looking at you curiously from the table. Clint smiled back at his wife, gently stroking her long hair.

"It was fine, honey. I brought a guest." Clint motioned towards you. Laura looked at you, humming softly. Her smile widened as she faced you.

"You must be (Y/N). Welcome to the Barton Farm." Laura giggled softly, placing a hand on her belly. Your gaze dropped down, noticing her barely visible bump. Laura followed your gaze, chuckling softly.

"We’re- Well, more like Natasha is hoping for a little girl." Laura smiled, glancing at Clint when he placed a gentle hand on her bump. She looked back at (Y/N), motioning to the table.

"Come join us."

You walked with Laura to the greenhouse, glancing over at Tony and Steve as they talked.

"How was your first mission?" Laura asked, smiling widely as she gazed at you curiously. You were supposed to go on a mission when your training was complete but nevertheless, it had been quite exciting. You smiled, looking forward.

"It was.. Good. It didn't go as planned, obviously, but there wasn't much of a plan to begin with. Clint's definitely holding a grudge against the runner." You chuckled, opening the door to the greenhouse and stepping inside. Some new flowers had been added.

"I don't blame him." Laura said, giggling as she pulled up a chair. She sat down, letting out a sigh of relief. Laura rested her hands on her belly, watching you with a gentle gaze.

"The girl.. The girl made Hulk lose his shit and made the others see stuff." You told her, picking up a pot with a venus flytrap inside. You gently ran your finger over the plant, watching it open.

"Did she get to you?"

"No, I.. I stopped her before she could do anything to me. Natasha seemed pretty shaken up by what she saw." You looked back at her, frowning softly. You had never seen Natasha look so broken inside. Whatever she had seen, it had definitely triggered some bad memories. You wondered what Wanda would've made you see. The orphanage? The fight with the Avengers?

"Clint mentioned you had to work on your people skills." Laura recalled, laughing softly as she tilted her head. "What's that about?"

"I might've choked.. A few people."

"Might've?" Laura repeated, raising her brows. You placed the pot down, letting out a soft sigh as you stared down at the venus flytrap.

"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" Laura asked softly, noticing the change. You gently pushed the pot back into its spot beside the other plants, shrugging lightly.

"Not that long ago, I was in their spot. Wanda and Pietro.. Two young metas trying to survive. With my powers, I could have seriously injured someone and-"

"But you didn't, did you? We're all standing on this plot of land, living and breathing." Laura stood up from the chair, holding onto it as she regained her balance. She walked towards you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"You were a frightened kid on survival mode. You were doing whatever you could to protect yourself." Laura said, gaze softening.

"Obviously, I could never hurt Thor or Hulk but... I almost crushed and suffocated everyone else. Tony had to work on his suit, Natasha and Clint had bruises for days.. Steve did that weird staring thing like a fucking camera whenever I was in the room." You reached forward, running a finger over the leaf of a plant and watching it grow.

"Look at yourself." Laura motioned to the plants. "You have full control of your powers. You know your limits. You're.. Mother Nature's son! Like, almost literally her son."

"I'm your son." You muttered, keeping your gaze on the plants. Laura stayed quiet, almost frozen in place. She slowly smiled, nodding as she blinked away tears.

"Yeah.. Yeah, you are. You're my son. You're a Barton." Laura said softly, sniffling softly. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm gonna go see if Stark is willing to check out the tractor. Holler if you need anything." Laura said, turning around. She left the greenhouse, walking back towards the house. You thought about her words, knowing what she said was true but things could've gone differently if you had been in full control of your powers during the confrontation with the Avengers. Clint had still offered you support despite it all.

You brought your knees close to your chest, hearing the sounds of the Avengers grunting and talking on the floor below. The overgrown vines in the abandoned building wrapped around the corner you were in, providing cover.

"Hey, kid? You up here?"

"Barton, what the hell are-"

"Shut up, Tony." You furrowed your brows, hearing sluggish footsteps on the floor you were at.

"This isn't the greatest hiding spot, kid." The voice, 'Clint', had gotten closer. He was most likely standing infront of you, the vines being the only thing keeping you from seeing him.

"Look, I know you're scared. I know the orphanage probably wasn't great either, but we can help you. I can help you. You can trust me." Clint assured softly. You swallowed, reaching out and touching the vines. They parted, letting you peer up at Clint. He offered a tired smile, extending his hand to you.

"You just made Laura the happiest woman alive." You turned towards Clint, chuckling softly. Clint pushed himself off the doorway, stepping inside.

"Must be nice to finally feel happy for once." You replied, grinning.

"Oh, trust me, you should've seen her face when I proposed." Clint chuckled, looking over the greenhouse. He hummed.

"Maybe I should get into gardening." He muttered, arms crossing as he looked over the different flowers. You watched him.

"You'll be busy with missions."

"I don't plan on sticking around for long, if I'm honest. I want to retire and be with my kids more. The hero life isn't forever for some people. Keep that in mind, (N/N)."

"You're gonna leave the team?" You asked, frowning. You knew Clint had been thinking about it. Especially with a third kid on the way that would come at any moment.

"I got lucky but.. The thought of leaving Laura alone with three young kids, a barely legal adult, and a big plot of land.." Clint sighed, shaking his head as he gently tapped his finger against the table.

"I don't want to be an absent father and miss out on big achievements. I owe it to Laura and you guys." Clint explained softly. You understood. None of the other Avengers were parents yet. Clint dying meant fatherless kids and a widow. He had a lot more to lose.

"I'll always be here if you need advice or more training. I just won't be on the field with you." Clint placed his hands on your shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze before he leaned in and gave you a hug. You hugged him back, eyes shutting. You weren't sure how you'd be on the field without Clint there to support you. Being beside him brought you comfort and reassurance.

"You'll be an amazing Avenger, (Y/N). I know it." Clint whispered, leaning back and smiling softly.

"Will you be my number 1 fan?" You asked with a grin.

"I'm afraid the top three spots are already taken but I'll happily be your fourth biggest fan." Clint laughed softly, turning his head when Laura called for him and you.

"Come on, let's see what the boss wants." He said playfully, turning around and walking out. You followed, noticing Nick Fury standing on the porch. He gave you a nod before entering the house.

"What's he doing here?" You asked, looking at Clint. Clint shrugged, letting out a deep sigh as you walked up the steps.

"We're about to find out."

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builder051 · 2 years

Note

Hi! Happy SS! For a prompt today, could you write something where Steve is really sick and throws up in bed. Maybe he feels really bad about it because he's embarrassed and he had to wake Bucky up. If not that's okay. I love your writing! Thank you so much and happy holidays!

Sure! This is Powers/No Powers.

_________________________

Steve's on Christmas Break, which means he's finagled a Christmas (observed) out of HR to cover Friday, and he's thanking the bright minds behind the fiscal year for the new load of leave that showed up in October. He's accrued a whole 10 hours of sick time in the past not-quite three months, so he's only good to stay home through Monday, but at least it's something.

Bucky's moved back in. He wouldn't go up the stairs for a while, sleeping on the sofa and living out of his luggage, but he let Steve launder his clothes and fold them back into the suitcases stashed under the coffee table.

They went up to the bedroom together eventually, though. Had some gentle make up sex. Though that was the night the electricity went out for half the block, so it might've just been a fluke.

They're on good terms now, though. Tenuous, maybe. But nothing's come down to cause stress.

Steve's a little on edge, though. He makes Bucky coffee three times a day. Fluffs the pillows in the dryer before they go to bed.

"You're neurotic," Bucky calls him, as Steve tries baking a gingerbread cake during their early dinner Friday evening.

"I am not." He unclips the kitchen timer from his jeans pocket, fumbling to turn off the loud beeping whilst dashing toward the oven. Bucky drops his napkin onto the table and rights the Coca Cola can that'd been knocked over when they'd both been startled by the sudden noise.

"Are you going to wash the bed again?" Bucky tips his head to the side.

Steve turns around, struggling to balance the glass loaf pan with one oven mitt. His face is flushed, and sweat beads on his forehead. He suddenly feels like he's run a marathon, and he isn't sure if what's wafting up from the surface of the cake is steam or smoke.

Bucky's smiling, his question clearly not meant to be serious. His brows begin to knit, though, and his expression turns to something like concern.

The pan seems to be burning straight through Steve's oven mitt, and he quickly slides it onto the stovetop. It tips sideways between the electric burners, and the hollow charcoal top splits and spills out a pile of cinders. "Fuck." A drip appears at the end of Steve's nose, and he wipes it on his sleeve. Now he can smell the damage.

"I'm sorry--" Steve starts.

"No, it's fine," Bucky steps closer, coming up just behind Steve and leaning forward slightly so his long hair brushes against Steve's ear. "Dessert isn't, you know. So much my thing."

"Yeah," Steve sighs. He's made a complete waste of time. A mess. A fool of himself. "Here, I'll go take it out." He pokes at the glass to set it right way up, but it still holds an intense amount of heat.

"I'll get it." Bucky pulls the oven mitt off Steve's hand.

"No, no." He can't think of how Bucky will possibly gouge the volcanic brick from the baking dish without broken glass becoming involved. Steve's pretty sure the pan itself is some kind of Barnes family heirloom. Straight out of the 1940s, and probably worth a few pennies.

"I'll take care of it." Steve reclaims the oven mitt. "Are you tired? D'you want to go up to bed?" He looks around shiftily. "I can clean up real quick, and... D'you want to shower? I can heat up the pillows--"

"Will you stop?" Bucky inserts himself between Steve and the burnt cake. "We can put the dishes in the sink, then wrap that thing in foil."

"Huh?"

"Wrapping will stop the smell, then it'll go and condensate on itself while it's still hot, turn to mush, and we can scrape it out later." Bucky shrugs.

"But-- that's--" Steve can't get his tongue around his words. "Tomorrow's Christmas. You want dirty dishes for Christmas?"

"Sure." Bucky even manages to sound upbeat. "Do you know how nuts you've been being?"

"I haven't--"

"Hey, takes one to know one." Bucky gives him a sad smile. "You look damn beat." He pauses. "Actually, you kind of look like little kid you. Like when you'd come back to school after you had a cold, then run too fast and almost stop breathing?"

"That's great..." It's Steve's first real day off in... he doesn't know how long. How long has Bucky been sick? Is he better? If he is, is it bad if Steve's annoyed at him?

A sneeze breaks their awkward silence. Steve goes into the downstairs bathroom for a Kleenex while Bucky loudly loads the sink. Aluminum foil crumples, and Steve decides dry brushing with the spare toothbrush behind the faucet is a better choice than inserting himself in the kitchen. He ventures out, though, when Bucky places the oven mitt on the mantle beside the tapestry woven stockings, and follows him wearily upstairs.

Neither of them bother to tumble the pillows. Bucky puts on pajamas and swallows his meds like a good boy. Steve, on the other hand, ditches his jeans on the floor and falls into bed as if it's midnight. The clock shows an hour of 7:30. If it weren't for a lifetime of awful sleeping habits, Steve might wonder what was going wrong. But the throb behind his eyes had to be work stress, and the ache in his lower back was certainly from the Christmas lights he'd quickly hastily tacked to the outside of the window. He just lies on his back, on top of his pillow, his chin on the corner of Bucky's, savoring the warmth and the opportunity to rest.

It doesn't last, though. Steve's eyes snap open. He's bewildered for maybe half a second, then panicked. He can't breathe. The air he just tried to suck in is liquid, and his body needs to get it out. He rolls instinctively onto his side, his head falling into the crevice between the two pillows, and a retch rocks his shoulders and neck.

Vomit pools up under Steve's cheek and spills in a a rivulet down his chin and toward his chest. More comes up before he can do anything to stop it. Finally Steve gets a breath in, but it's rough and desperately itchy. He wants to hack and pant and really clear his airway, but his stomach still has other ideas.

Intense nausea pushes Steve into an army crawl toward the edge of the bed. It's maybe two feet, but lifting his head exerts enough effort he feels like he could pass out. His gut goes watery and his jaw drops, leaving his back teeth chattering against air as spit and bile pour out onto the floor.

Strings of mucous hang from Steve's lips, giving him the false assertion that he's not done, even though he's empty now. His breath comes in rattles, and when he finally forcibly coughs and clears his throat, it brings on a series of loud, aching dry heaves.

"Y'ok...?" Bucky's sleepy voice asks from the other side of the bed.

Steve curses, but the only sound that comes out is gutterral and wet. He looks at the clock, which is blurry through watery eyes, and sees that it's barely 10. Barely adult bedtime. He is, truly, the worst.

"Buck...?" Steve manages.

"Mm-hm?" Bucky twitches, tosses his hand in the direction of Steve's back while he hugs the edge of the mattress with his stump arm. Unfortunately, with their current setup, he dips his palm in the sick soaking into the middle of the bed. "Wha...?"

"Can you-- I just--?" Steve clears his throat again and tries not to tip over as he sits back on his knees. The nausea has turned to vertigo, and he has trouble finding his center on the soft bed.

"Hm?" Bucky sit up like he's swimming the sidestroke. "You not feeling so good, Stevie?"

"I, um, yeah..." Another wave of lightheadedness passes over him, this time from pure mortification, Steve's sure. "There's a huge mess..."

"Yeah, 's'ok..." Bucky's eyes are a little glazed, his words a little slow. He's still under the influence of his night meds. "C'mere." He scrubs his hand on the sheets, then offers it to Steve.

Steve grasps it like a lifeline and slowly scoots into Bucky's warm space as Bucky maneuvers his own feet to the floor.

"I got you," Bucky murmurs, tucking Steve's head onto his shoulder and wrapping him up in the corner of the quilt. "It's ok."

"It's not--I'm sorry--" Steve fusses.

"Just happens," Bucky says. "You want the bathroom?"

"Don't want to move..."

"Don't have to." Bucky shifts to lean his hip against the bed. "We have time."

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timextoxhajima · 3 years

Note

shooting my shot for the requests bc i use tumblr as a form of escapism and i love ur writings :') can i req just hardcore sad emotional angst with jay(enha)/mark(nct)? smthn off the idea of watching them fall in love w someone else kinda based off the song 'somebody else' by the 1975 bc god knows i am most DEFINITELY not going thru that shit rn 👍😃

Ꮺ title: somebody else [SFW]

Ꮺ member: nct mark

Ꮺ genre: uni! au - best friend! mark x [fem] reader , alot of angst

Ꮺ warnings: a broken heart

Ꮺ wc: 1.65k

Ꮺ a/n: for mj. 'the worst tides will always change' - me, 2k21

the world is passing too slowly. way too slowly.

it's the freckle on his neck. it's the little curve of his lips. it's the twinkle in his eyes. all lodged into some crevice of your mind like a parasite, refusing to detach.

maybe it was my fault - no. it was my fault for choosing you to fall in love with.

so mark was your best friend. what's new?

inseparable - that was the word that people used to describe the two of you. it's kind of cliché, how many people you've managed to convince that you were dating in the last 5 years you've been friends with him.

but of course, mark being the person he is, always took it with a grain of salt and never showed his dissatisfaction towards the incessant shipping of the two of you. in fact, he made it a point to make it an inside joke between the two of you.

part of you might've secretly prayed and wished every night at 11:11, while staring at the stupid, childish neon glow-in-the-dark stickers on your ceiling, that maybe, just maybe, he was just hiding behind a mask. hiding behind his cowardice, and that it wasn't impossible that he secretly held a torch for you.

it's his laughter you can hear - the day he spent in your room, re-decorating your newly painted walls. he had been the one who stuck the stickers to the ceiling.

but life is no drama. it's not a netflix series. it's not a korean rom-com where you end up with the main male lead.

why?

because you weren't the lead in the first place.

it's his voice that you feel thrum through your heart - when he thanks the crowd before him after he blows out the candles.

the crowd bursts into hoots and cheers but all you can process is the angle his smile takes in his cheeks.

with the most care he can summon in the heat of excitement, mark pushes the knife into the cake and you can see the cream pile up against the surface of the cake - that's how slow time seemed to be passing. a second feels like a minute, and every blink of his eye feels like butterflies coming out of their cocoons, only to fly away and never to be seen again.

then the immediate dread of replacement fills your lungs when he waves you over to take the first picture with him. he asks with his irrejectable politeness and you can't do any less than to relent with a smile, walking around the table to stand next to him.

but it's the girl behind the camera that threatens to hide your smile in the flash of the camera.

parasite.

and yet that's the worst part of it. the countdown echoes in your head when she makes it to 1, and it almost feels like she's trying to make sure she's counting down to your innate disappearance from earth's surface.

she's the lead, and you're just the main lead's best friend.

mark gestures for the camera to check the shot, and your grin fades away when you can see the minuscule brushing of their fingers as she hands the camera to mark.

the little coo runs over his lips as his eyes reflect the light from the screen, and he hands it back to her. this time, her fingerpads running over the grooves of his fingers and it's a stab in your gut when you can see the shine flash through both their eyes.

usually, mark's mother would ask you to help with the food preparation and serving the drinks but you were no longer her right-hand man. she was.

becoming the designated photographer, you're stuck with watching mark smile through all the tens of photos he takes with his many friends, each shot putting an abrupt halt to your attempt at forgetting that he was the one who has your heart in his hands.

you could close your eyes and you'd be able to draw his face.

it's his mother's laughter from the kitchen that starts to tear your bones apart - when you realise it's no longer because of you.

what were three hours of barbecue and dinner and cake felt like three days. nothing anybody said to you, you registered, because you were busy glancing across the pool and at mark, thoroughly engaged in a conversation that you weren't a part of.

when the rumors no longer reach your ears because everybody knows that mark has set his eyes on, that's when you know your chapter in his book has ended.

it's the blue hues of the pool's reflection on their faces that make their faces so much more illuminated than they already were. their faces are so animated, fingers twitching on the chair's armrest as they gradually get physically frustrated with the distance.

her legs are crossed on the chair and her hair falls over her shoulders like she had paid a thousand dollars for the most expensive shampoo in the world. maybe if you had her hair, mark would just return his attention to you.

and yet you can't blame him. he's still treating you the same way he has been the last 5 years. he's still laughing like it was his last day on earth. he's still telling the same stupid jokes over and over again as if nobody's told him he isn't funny.

it's how high up his shoulders are next to his ears that tell you how smitten he is - as so is she.

the last friend of his makes their departure, leaving you with her and mark in the kitchen with his mother.

your heart is slow and calm, only because it hasn't really got much left to run on, before she chooses to part her pretty lips and ask you with the most sincerity you've seen on a person.

"y/n, can i ask you something?"

looking up from the empty food tray, your palms start to sweat, and your heart slows even more.

there's no reason to panic. you already know what's coming.

"do you think... i should go for mark? i mean... you're his best friend. i just... don't want to make a wrong move and leave a bad impression."

no. he's my best friend and I'm the one who's given him tissues when he cried over his first love. and you don't even know her name.

"mark? mark's... whipped for you."

"really?" her eyes hold a twinkle disgustingly similar to his. and god giving her that angelic smile was unfair.

you wouldn't hurt a fly, and yet all i want to do is to throw you into the pool. what does that make me?

"really."

she's obviously excited, and nervous, for she pulls her lips between her teeth and chews on her bottom one. she looks away, face blushing a bright pink shade as her hair swings over her shoulders.

it's her anxiety that fuels your dying spirit to keep mark by your side - because you know she's going to be the one to be with him by his death bed 50 years from now.

yellow hues glow around the moon while it's high up in the sky, rendering the shine of all the nearby stars useless.

she's in the bathroom when you choose to leave first, and mark's a little more than surprised that you hadn't tried to stay and make sure you were the last guest to leave.

"are you rushing home? did you have a curfew? why didn't you tell me?"

"i... I'm just tired. that's all."

"oh."

mark rubs the back of his head.

"anyway, make sure she gets home safely okay?"

"you too. text me when you get home."

"mhm. i will."

"bye y/n. rest well, and thank you for helping out today."

"anytime."

knowing that he's not gonna close the door on you, you reach forward and wrap your fingers around the handle, pushing him back into the house and closing it for him.

across the road, your feet are stuck to the ground. brittle and on the verge of giving in, when you watch her wander around the space that opens up into the pool in his yard, probably searching for you.

mark comes by, saying something to her, and receives an 'oh' you can read from her lips. her back is turned towards the window, and mark's standing right opposite her, looking down at her eyes and probably thinking to himself 'this is the most beautiful girl on the planet'.

then mark rubs the back of his head, grin wide across his face as his cheeks redden while saying something.

you definitely can't hear shit.

but you know exactly what he's saying.

you don't know which was worse - the fact that you couldn't hear anything and yet you knew what he was saying or the fact that you were choosing to stay, and let your heart be crushed into oblivion.

then you watch with a souring nose and blurring vision when he throws his arms over her shoulders, and she falls into his chest with his palm stroking her hair.

but mark looks up.

straight ahead.

and sees you.

with the last ounce of energy you have left in your lungs, you lift a hand and show him a 'thumbs-up' sign, silently hoping he doesn't run out to see the droplets of your unrequited love on the pavement.

his signature smile spreads across his face as he mouths a 'thank you', before his mother comes by with a baffled look on her face and offers the girl a hug.

finally cutting away what was left of you from the pavement, you drag your heavy feet towards the direction of your house, the moon now dominating the dark canvas in the sky.

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