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the-record · 6 months

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COWBOYS LIKE YOU

SYNOPSIS: you should stop letting her through that door

PAIRING: cowboy!abby x reader

WARNINGS: a touch of homophobia

A/N: this isnt great, and makes me sad, but i like it!! trying to be a little less dialogue focused

“do you have to go?” your voice is soft as abby lets the question linger in the air. “i hate it when you leave. its lonely.”

her fingers slide carefully up and down your arm and she sighs. “im sorry angel.” abby wraps her arms around you and pulls tight, trying to get you as close as possible. “you know it ain’t safe for us out there though.”

you knew she was right, seen first hand just what people think about sappho and her friends. felt the rage and anger that came when two women who just loved each other.

these nights with her were nice. the sun still going down and the heat with it. crickets started their song and birds finishing theirs. you had pulled the sheets up halfway when it cooled, the sweat on yalls skin disappearing with the breeze.

abbys nails were kept short always, but theyd begin to grow out and were gently scratching at your skin. her hair had finally grown out again and you twisted it around your fingers.

when you’d found her that night, you had to bring her back. clean up her hair, her wounds, her clothes. you couldnt leave a sweet thing like her out in the cold to die. or the boy that was with her. you never did see him again, but it meant more time just you and her.

“i can stay one more day. but then i ought to get back on.” she pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead. “you get some rest now, let me make us somethin’ warm and good for dinner.” you whine as she untangles herself from you, but only laughs before leaving the room.

you don’t remember when you nodded off, but you do remember waking up to something smelling good. she stumbled in with a tray full of plates and cups. she smiled when she saw you sit up.

“well good mornin’ sunshine.” you rolled your eyes as abby settled in beside you. “now, no more of that attitude, not when i made you somethin’ nice.”

you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “now i know good and well that you, abby anderson, are not talking.” she returned the eye roll, albeit not very well. “now what is on my menu tonight mrs anderson?”

abby always left without warning, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. but you always managed to make a move on from her, prepared with the fact that she may never be back for you.

you tended to the farm, your cows. made breakfast and dinner each and every day, sweet tea and lemonade for the hot afternoons. you did afternoon tea in the ladies parlor on saturdays and church on sundays. you kept on the way you always did, never missing a beat.

until a fateful cool evening when someone came knocking on your screen, scaring you half to death as you stirred beside the stove. you sighed as you made your way to the door, wiping your hands on the apron you had on.

you nearly tripped over your own feet seeing abby at your door. took everything in you not to rush and pull her in.

she was different than when you last saw her. new clothes, hair in a loose braid, cuts and blood all over. but you didn’t yet even open the door, she had much to say first.

“before i even start, know how sorry i am. know i didnt mean for it to be this long.” she winced as she leaned on her other leg. “i wanted to come, truly i did, but ive been running all over hell’s half acre. i had business.”

you huffed, pulling the door open and taking her with you to the kitchen. “im so sorry angel, please talk to me.” you sat her down on a stool before heading back to your dinner. “what do i need to do to make it all better?”

she quieted down when you didnt respond, watching you cook. she always loved watching you do household things. made her feel right at home again.

she smiled when you sat her bowl down infront of her, stopping and staring with a frown. she wanted to tell you how pretty you were but held off, you scared her quiet a bit. her hands moved to your hips but you slapped them away and grabbed the wet rag she hadnt noticed.

“eat your damn food.” she slowly spooned the meal into her mouth as you wiped at the old cuts on her face. she winced and pulled away but you pulled back. “stop movin’ when im tryna fix you up.” she nodded as softly as possible.

when you finished, you took the rag and half finished plate with you, pulling the fork from abbys mouth. “go wash up, you will not be dirty in my house.” she nodded, though you weren’t looking, and left to the bathroom.

the plate sat on the counter as you heard her harsh steps up your stairs. you held your head in your hands and took a shaky breath.

you didnt expect her to come back. figured it was final this time. and you certainly didnt expect her at your door like that. you had to pull it together though, couldnt let her see you like this.

you washed up and wiped the kitched till it was spotless before heading upstairs to abby. she was still sitting tending to her wounds when you found her. “you’re doing it wrong.” she dropped what she was doing and slouched. “let me.”

you were gentle with your touch, knowing it was always what she needed. she lived such a hard life that sometimes she needed a gentle touch, some loving. “what in the god damn world did you get yourself into this time?” abby sniffed and you looked up for the first time.

“i hate going out there. i dont wanna anymore.” you hushed her, pulled her close. “can i stay?”

“you can do whatever you want.” you kissed her face, running your fingers through her hair. “im here no matter what you decide.” she nodded and squeezed your hand. “now let me fix up these stitches. you have no idea what your doing. bless your heart.” she laughed softly and you copied. “seriously though, sit still for me.”

“im sorry i always leave.”

it was a quiet night. crickets too tired to so much as hum, and the cow sleeping to forget the chill of the dark. the house had a chill but you and abby huddled to ignore it. it was peaceful. you missed this peace.

you hummed in response, leaning on her chest to see her face. “so don’t.” but she said nothing. did nothing. “abby…”

she shook her head. “im sorry.”

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fluff #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson tlou #abby the last of us #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby anderson angst #abby anderson

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kingshovelbug · 2 months

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im sorry but i need to geek out somewhere and screaming into the void on tumblr is less likely to get me flayed than on twitter, especially if i get terms wrong. plus i can do a read more and yall can click into the tech talk if you want to verse it bombarding your twitter timelines

so idk if i only liked it or if i actually put it in my queue but i saw a post that talked about a few pieces of tech that focus on user repairs and being sustainable (fairphone and frameworks laptop) and after doing some more research into what they have to offer i actually really excited that these products are finely hitting the us market and that people are moving away from the belief that super smooth streamlined glassy = the future. being able to reliably repair and keep what you have alive verse throwing the whole thing away when maybe all you needed to do is add more ram to your current laptop (something that i would do with my laptop to keep using it for a few more years if it wasnt glued shut and i was at risk of cracking the screen) or swap out a fuse.

i know big corporations dont like it but i truly do believe with how much tech we use on a daily basis that the way that we are going to be more environmentally friendly is to move back to tech that we can hang onto for as long as we can and to recycle and then reuse what we cant. like with the frameworks laptop. i saw that they just partnered with coolermaster to create a case specifically so that you can reuse you motherboard, cpu, etc and make a portable workstation. you could dual wield with the laptop you just upgraded if you want to dedicate specific tasks to one or the other. they also specifically mentioned that you could screw it into the back of a monitor and create your own all in one. guys thats cool as shit??? if you had a 3d printer and some time you could even create that yourself

on top of the actual hardware part moving to open source programs when your able. when i update my desktop i plan on running linux. it might have a learning curve compared to windows but in terms of performance??? ive heard that it runs smoother even on older machines, that its more efficient because isnt running stuff in the background that tracks your data and shit. now i understand that not everyone can do that because there are some programs that dont play nice with linux but for my needs at least it does everything i would need it to. and maybe a couple years down the road we do figure out how to run these programs on certain flavors of linux since its open source and people fiddle with it so much. (still looking for alternatives to like word and excel though, i use google docs since its free but i want to move away from them as much as i can too since they laid of their youtube music team (i believe?? it might of been a different branch) for trying to unionize)

if anyone knows of any other smaller companies that actually focus on sustainability and user repairability please let me know. theres certain pieces of tech that i think are now unfortunately behind a software repair paywall, things that used to be just machines and are gaining more bells and whistles like cars and refrigerators if that makes sense. but the more we push for these things to be repairable by us the consumers id hope that would change, or there would at least be options that dont need specific companies to repair them or else they blow up

#personal

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livingemkayde · 9 months

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ch iv. tacit

joel miller x f!reader x unrequited!tommy miller (no outbreak AU)

chapter four of chaser

warnings: 18+ minors please dni. love triangle forming formed. lots of angst, miscommunications. very brief mentions of sexual situations. age gap, reader is 23 and joel is 35. Tommy is 30. (ages of all characters and plot do not follow canon strictly for the story’s sake).

summary: tommy miller 'accidentally' sets joel up on a blind date on your night out. you're definitely not happy about it, and neither is joel.

a/n: tried something kinda new with this chapter. Been feeling like my writing as a whole lowkey gives bare bones considering all my edits and things i cut out so i tried to keep most of my ideas, just refined them more. ~ THIS SYMBOL REPRESENTS POV CHANGE. Really trying to rein in the idea that they’re fucking terrible at communicating and they interpret situations differently (but differently in such a similar way). If yall liked this please lmk. and dont worry things will get better in the next chapter (i already have half of it written).

if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!

“I did good, didn’t I?” What the fuck. “What?” you echo your thoughts, looking over at Tommy. He smiles at the pair. “She’s my next door neighbor. I fixed up her mailbox and got to talkin’ — said I thought she would get along with Joel.” “You invited her?” you ask, your voice small. “Yeah,” Tommy laughs and rubs your shoulder. “‘S what I just said, baby.”

“Are you serious?” you almost want to hit Joel upside the head.

He just nods, raising his beer to you and chugging down a good portion of it.

“God. You’re kidding, right?” You turn back to Tommy.

“Sorry, baby. Dead serious.”

“Jesus,” you shake your head, tipping back the remainder of your second drink.

Tommy’s birthday. On Sunday. As in like, two days from now, and you had no clue, not until this very moment, the two brothers staring back at you like they don’t see the issue with this.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“‘M tellin’ you now?” Tommy laughs. You shove him playfully.

“Well, we have to throw you a party,” you announce, shaking your head at the thought that maybe, if Joel didn’t say anything, you wouldn’t have known about Tommy’s birthday at all.

“No, I don’t think —”

“No excuses,” you say, shrugging your shoulders and giving him a shy smile. “Joel and I will take care of it. Right?” you look over at him, but he stares back with wide eyes.

He stutters out words, trying to give an excuse, but doesn’t get very far.

“Joel and I will throw you a party,” you say, giving Joel a teasing look. “You gotta up my pay, Miller.”

“In your dreams, I pay you plenty. And Sarah’s an angel — I’m basically paying you to sit around and hang out.”

“‘S hard work,” you chuckle, the boys laugh. “Can we use your backyard, Joel?”

“Why.”

“You have a pool…and a barbecue…and a lawn.”

“Jesus. ‘S like y’all don’t own houses.”

“Great! Party at Joel’s,” you smile at him, teasing almost — flirting. But you reel it in at Tommy’s voice.

They start talking about something regarding the current state of Joel’s backyard and you get lost in the conversation, itching to approach the bar and get another drink.

Your phone buzzes, it’s Olivia calling. You excuse yourself and make a quick break outside.

“Hello?”

Hey babe, so how’s it going? Am I interrupting anything??

You roll your eyes.

“Liv, c’mon. Tommy is here with us,” you say into the phone, peering back at the brothers perched on a high table through the window.

Ugh. Fucking buzzkill. So you’re not gonna make a move tonight?

“Jesus. No — no.”

Sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself more than me.

“If I get some alone time with him then maybe we’ll — talk about it. I guess…” you look back to them again. Joel’s eyes catch yours and you turn around quickly.

“I dunno though. Tommy’s being clingy.”

He’s always clingy. Sneak Joel into the bathroom, maybe y'all can go for round two.

“Liv!” you chastise, your cheeks heat at the thought.

Keep me posted. And have fun, girl.

“I will, thanks. Love you, bye.”

Love you, bye.

You hang up, rubbing your hands on your upper arms to shield yourself from the cold. You need another drink desperately.

You walk back in. The roaring crowd meets your ears immediately. Dim string lights and a couple shots in and things had been going — good.

Relatively good. The best you could hope for out of your Friday night out with the boys.

Joel isn’t being an ass and Tommy is relatively chill so things have been good. It’s fun being out with them. Especially when Tommy might be too distracted by the crowd to see you staring at Joel — the way his biceps stretch the cotton of his t-shirt. The way his lips curl around his glass. The glint in his eyes when he laughs. And you know for certain, Tommy doesn’t notice Joel’s hand resting on your thigh for a couple, fleeting seconds every so often.

You approach the bar and ask for another drink. You’re not sure where you stand with Joel, you two haven’t been afforded much alone time since the phone call. But things might finally feel good. Especially between the brothers.

Maybe it had been way too good — way too calm — because something always had to fuck everything up — and this was that moment.

A long legged blonde walks through the double doors like a scene out of a movie. Somewhere deep down in the teenage part of your psyche, you want to say her clothes are ill-fitting, her lipstick — a garish shade of mauve, her hair — coarse and utterly damaged. But it’s not. She’s none of those things.

She's perfect.

It's been two days since the incident on the phone. Joel and Tommy have been sort of MIA with a big part of their project — coming back home late, when Sarah’s already asleep. You got your car fixed (all on your own) so you leave them with some leftovers on the table as soon as they get back.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

Joel had said when you pointed out the food on the table last night. You recall everyone’s eyes widening, the pet name slipping from his lips with ease. It sounded like butter to your ears — fighting the urge to smile a mile wide and kiss him like you’ve been begging to do since the day you met. But you knew Tommy noticed, you all noticed. Joel brushed it off with a cough, saying something about how it had been a particularly rough day.

Tommy didn’t say much about it. But he wasn’t acting strange which was good. Even tonight, he’s still acting himself — it’s a bit of a relief.

Even now, when surprisingly, Tommy stands and greets the woman, pulling her into a hug. Joel stands too, though he looks a bit confused.

You stare at them from the bar, Tommy says something to Joel, obviously introducing the blonde to him. Joel’s face contorts into recognition at the name, maybe Tommy has mentioned her before.

You don’t even notice the bartender placing your drink down in front of you, abandoning it and beelining towards them. The drink sweats on the bartop, alone. Forgotten.

“Why don’t you go with Joel?” Tommy says, ushering her towards Joel’s side. “Grab her a drink?”

You look up at Joel in passing, the blonde on his other side, you try to keep your face normal, but a look slithers onto your brow. He knows exactly what you’re trying to say.

What the fuck?

His eyes scrunch for a half second, saying, I don’t know, either and stalks away with the blonde. You watch them leave, but Tommy’s voice snaps you out of your trance, a heavy arm braces itself over your shoulder as you both watch them approach the bar.

“I did good, didn’t I?”

What the fuck.

“What?” you echo your thoughts, looking over at Tommy. He smiles at the pair.

“She’s my next door neighbor. I fixed up her mailbox and got to talkin’ — said I thought she would get along with Joel.”

“You invited her?” you ask, your voice small.

“Yeah,” Tommy laughs and rubs your shoulder. “‘S what I just said, baby.”

Joel looks — you don’t really know what he looks like. He doesn’t look completely uninterested, but you can spot the glint in his eye a million miles away. And when he lacks it too, like right now.

But maybe you like to imagine what his eyes look like — just for you. How you can feel his glances from across a room, how his eyes meet yours through a crowded bar and never let go. Like a string attaches your irises and pulls you, locked together, forever.

It doesn’t seem like he’s looking at her like that but you’re beginning to realize you know nothing of what these boys might do.

It’s not like Joel owes you anything in this moment — and you’re not asking him. You know what he has to do to save both of your asses from Tommy’s precise, unwavering eyes, and he’s doing it. He’s strong — but you’re not sure if you’ve got that kind of fight in you. To let him go, with wandering eyes and wandering, delicate fingers braced all over his body. Maybe this is how he feels — no — now you’re certain your feelings match Joel’s in those fleeting moments when he catches you with Tommy.

It leaves you feeling sick. Guilty? Sure. Sad? Oh, definitely.

Jealous? Yeah. That one.

Even if it might be unrightfully so. But you keep it down the best you can.

“You think they look good together?” Tommy says from the table now. You don’t remember him moving.

“Yeah,” you reply in a soft voice.

He clears his throat when you stare at them for too long.

“Yeah,” you say again, louder, when you turn to him. He smiles back.

“‘S what I thought, too.” he throws some trail mix into his mouth. “Think she might be good for him.”

“Good for him,” you echo, absentmindedly. The only thing you can think about — and look at, for that matter — is the way her manicured fingers brush over his arm, and how he doesn’t push them away.

Good for him.

She seems good for him. Maybe all he needs is a bobbing blonde bimbo in his life. Something to brighten up his day. You thought you were good for him. Thought you were good for his life. Thought you were good for everyone.

But when he laughs a bit — you can’t help but wonder: what do you think you know anymore?

“You alright?”

You snap your head to Tommy again.

You feel like crying but you bite back the desperate tears.

“Yeah,” you say, the feeling in your throat rising with your reply, and even more so with the next. “‘M fine.”

You watch the bartender set a drink down in front of the unnamed woman and she accepts it graciously. The pair begins to walk back, she’s close to Joel’s side. You bite your tongue, whipping out your phone instead to sneak Olivia a sad, solemn text.

You look down, the tears pooling to the front of your eye, momentarily blurring your vision like someone just released a flash bomb in the bar — maybe an ambush — this certainly feels like one.

You can’t really read the legibility of your writing, knowing it's littered with typos, your thumbs moving faster than your mind — saying something about a woman and Joel and almost regrettably because of how in the moment you are right now — how fucking stupid Tommy Miller is — even though you know this is far from his fault.

The pair stands before you. The woman smiles down at you — your body failing to stand until Tommy puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, ushering you up to your feet.

Why is everything coming out of Tommy’s mouth muffled to your ears?

Maybe Joel can see the unshed tears in your eyes, but he stops the introduction on its head — the pity clear in his voice. That you can hear. The honey-rich, southern — homey — sound of his drawl punching through the sound barrier of stupid teenage hurt feelings and childish jealousy wrapped around you like a blanket—

“You alright, sweetheart?”

There it is again. That fucking pet name that holds you in a vice grip, sends shooting electricity down your spine, makes you want to scream out to the entire bar — please — please. Just stop this bullshit, end it. Press rewind to five minutes ago when things seemed to be going good and make this — fucking please — make this stop.

But you don’t say that. The tears recede at his voice, you smile up at him like a scene rehearsed and then back to the blonde. She stares at you, her brow a bit cocked and at his words — you know this is far from the acting normal you and Joel unspokenly try to adhere to. Even in the worst circumstances — like this one.

“Yeah,” you brush him off quickly, he moves to speak but you cut him off, a surprisingly cool tone braced on your lips.

“Nice to meet you,” you smile, taking her hand, telling her your name. “Tommy said you’re his neighbor?”

“Yeah that’s right,” she laughs. “Quite the handyman.”

“I try my best,” Tommy jests from beside you. She laughs.

“Caroline,” she finishes with, dropping your hand. You smile back.

She’s pretty, and nice, and fucking funny and you want to be so fucking mean to her because she’s got her hands all over Joel and she’s insanely gorgeous but you know better. You like to think you're far from your teenage years — even if you feel like you’re drowning in your numbers.

You can see her better in this light.

A lump in your throat forms because what’s even worse than her being pretty is that she looks older.

More like Tommy — more like Joel.

More age appropriate.

Less like you.

“So what do you do?” Caroline says as you all sit.

“Oh. I’m Joel’s nanny—” you stifle an awkward laugh. You’ve never said that out loud.

“Joel needs a nanny?” she bites back with a witty smirk on her face. Everyone laughs.

“I’m Sarah’s babysitter, just got my bachelors in May though,” you laugh back. She nods.

“What did you study?”

“English.”

“Ah. English. Remember those days.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a journalist. Work for some company no one cares about, blah blah blah. You get it,” she says, sipping on her drink.

Great. Journalist.

“Do you like it?” Tommy asks from beside you. You get lost in her words, not really hearing anything besides how she's better and farther along in a similar field as you.

You mumble something to Tommy about how you need another drink, hopping to the bar when everyone settles into the conversation.

Like clockwork, you can feel Joel’s eyes on you, tracking you across the bar and when you slip further into the crowd.

You push through to get to the bathroom but when you arrive, you freeze.

How could you be so stupid?

You’re surprised the door to that bathroom doesn’t show your fingerprints and scratch marks from the other side. You remember it being nicer than it currently stands before you. A small smile finds its way to your lips at the thought. Everything seems to fade when you think about that night — when you think about how Joel makes you feel.

But you can’t go back in. That would be setting yourself up for the ultimate failure. Disqualifying you from the race because of a faulty start.

You push into the next bathroom, some ways down the small hallway.

The door shuts behind you, a rumbling tune plays through the walls of the bathroom, shaking the mirror and ruining the look you try to get at yourself. You can almost see the fatal flaw written on your face through the rippling glass: the thought that this would ever work out between you and Joel.

The woman beside Joel keeps touching him.

It’s not that it bothers him, particularly. It’s just that he can feel her wanting need pulse off her body like a fire alarm. The thought that he might look her way now is comical. Especially when you slip towards the bathroom. The same fucking bathroom all those weeks ago. Like it’s been sitting here waiting for the two of you to get inside and let hell break loose.

But it stares at Joel and bites back with teeth and fangs when you slip inside. Normally a smirk or even a wide smile would be wedged on his face from the implication. Follow me inside, tell me what you’re thinking with your actions, not words. Pin me up against the wall, let me say your name. Let me tell you I’m yours. But everything about right now screams the opposite of That Night.

It’s different this time. Instead, he can feel the sadness at your greeting and the look in your eye that followed.

Tommy is such a fucking idiot.

Joel’s always known there was a temper on Tommy since they were young. And there has always been that godforsaken sibling rivalry because Tommy turned out to be a good man. And as Joel reasons with himself — maybe Tommy is a better man than he is because all Joel wants to do is follow you into the bathroom, see if you’re alright, ask you to forget about this nonsense and just stay with him. Don’t let this push you to Tommy. Don’t let this ruin everything that’s been building.

Maybe that makes him a bad man for wanting. But maybe it also makes him a good man for not following through.

He can’t even drink anymore. The light beers are clearing from his head, but honestly, he was dead sober at the sight of you with unshed tears in your eyes.

But when you emerge from the bathroom like nothing is wrong, Joel falters. He isn’t sure what to do when you request a drink from the bar — and he isn’t sure what to do when it turns out to be a shot, you down it in one gulp and don’t ask for a chaser.

Maybe you want it to hurt.

It’s the first indication that something — anything — is wrong. And Joel would wager a million on what that something is.

Joel thought it had been clear the night of the dinner at his house. He thought his silent words snuck into Tommy’s brain enough to send a clear signal. Back off, dude.

But apparently it didn’t. Because this woman is sitting next to him, and her hand rests on his knee now. And she keeps snaking her fingers through to rest on his bicep. And he’s just about had enough.

“You should come. Right, Joel?”

“Huh,” he pushes out, looking back to his brother.

“To my party?”

It’s almost like Tommy is pleading with him. And he’s not sure what to say. Of course he doesn’t want her to come. But it’s Tommy’s party and the kick under the table from Tommy’s boot forces the words out of his mouth even though he wants to say the opposite.

“Yeah, sure.”

Tommy gives him a look. Joel knows this woman — Caroline — is nice. Hell, she might’ve even caught his eye if he wasn’t worshiping the ground you walk on. Maybe Tommy knew that too, and that’s why he invited her. She seems nice, and funny, but Joel can’t get you off his mind. The thought of you — like a bee who won’t quit buzzing around a flower.

“Need some water. Y’all want anythin’?”

They shake their heads and give their thanks but Joel wasn’t really paying much attention to them anyways. He can only look around the bar and see an apparent lack of your figure — anywhere.

He stands and searches for you, only to see your figure in a flash, walking towards the entrance. He catches your arm and you turn to him, a feigned, sad smile appears on your face.

Jesus.

You can’t even look him in the eyes — hold the unbreaking eye contact he made a mental note of when you two first met.

“What a’you doin’?” Joel asks, trying to keep his voice from wavering.

“Need some air,” you say.

Joel follows you wordlessly. He doesn’t care if his date or his brother sees him walk you out. It’s nothing to hide from. You guys are — friends.

The cool air hits his skin. He sees that you’re cold, but doesn’t want to hold you against him like he desperately needs to — at the implication that maybe you’d turn him down. Or worse, push him away.

“So…a party,” Joel starts with, grimacing internally at his chosen words.

“Yeah — if you don’t wanna help, you don’t have to. I was just joking in ther—”

Joel cuts you off. It hurts a bit — the thought that you think he wouldn’t want to help you.

“I do — wanna help.”

You smile shyly.

“Pick me up tomorrow? We’ll go shopping.”

“Be there at four, Sarah's goin’ to a friend’s for dinner and a sleepover.”

“She’s got more social battery than me,” you chuckle, looking back into the bar.

“You ‘n me combined — maybe she got it from Tommy.”

“Maybe,” you echo.

Suddenly, the air feels less playful.

“I didn’t know,” Joel starts with because he doesn’t know what else to say. His words make you laugh a bit. He doesn’t know what to do anymore. All he wants is you.

“I know —” another laugh, but he knows you think none of this is funny. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

Is it just him or is the glint in your eyes gone?

“No, I…Jesus. Tommy just — fuckin’ — I don’t know her, I — know of her. But I didn’t tell him I wanted to meet her.”

“Joel,” you say, your voice breaking a bit. “It’s okay.”

But it’s not okay. He can see that much displayed on your face.

“She seems nice,” you note. His brows furrow because he can tell you’re being genuine. Why does it seem like you want him to admit it too?

“C’mon,” he says, a harsh chuckle in the form of a crisp breath escapes his mouth, pleading with you—

Stop this.

“What do you want me to say?” you whisper, breathless. He stares back at you like he doesn’t know what could possibly be running through your head. You need him to say his truth now. Or honestly? You’re not sure it’ll ever come out and you’ll be left behind forever.

“Anythin’ but that,” he breathes, the air puffs cold around your face.

You want to speak but nothing comes out. You wrap your arms around yourself, the cold biting through your thin top. He looks unmoving and warm. But he stands with his hands shoved in his pockets.

Why isn’t he holding you?

“Well she does,” his brows cock at your words. “Seem nice.”

“I don’t like her. I —”

I like you. I want you. I need you.

It’s on the tip of his tongue. Maybe he’s about to confess and the dam holding all your feelings from the last month will break through. But he’s searching for the words — and that’s when you know. Because he shouldn’t be searching for anything. Not when it comes so easy to you. Not when what he makes you feel is threatening to spill from your lips at every chance you get. He shouldn’t be searching for the right things to say when you can think of a million possibilities.

He steps forward, grabbing your hand in his. His fingers play with yours as you wait with bated breath. Waiting for the —

Be with me, stay with me. Forget about them. Forget about everything. I just need you.

You hold out for one last moment. Maybe he can’t articulate his feelings as well as they ring true in his mind.

You step back a bit, moving to turn, moving to open your body as a silent invitation for him to follow you. Your fingers pull on his a bit towards your direction, pulling him, propelling him towards what you want him to say. But he doesn’t say those words. Instead—

“Where are you goin’?”

Your hand holding his fingers pulls slightly again. A life raft. A beacon of hope. The last twinge that you have to offer him so he can finally break down his walls and be with you.

Because that’s all you want. You just want him.

“Home.”

You say it. It might be the first time since Caroline walked through the doors that he’s looked into your eyes. You’re pleading with him. With every ounce in your body. Just fucking say it.

It's a silent invitation, you ask him with your eyes. And with the fingers pulling at his.

Come with me. To my house, to my bed. Stay with me. Come with me. Leave them behind, and stay the night, stay till the next night too. Forget about the blonde laughing at Tommy’s jokes. Hell, forget about Tommy. Just fucking ditch this hell hole and take me home. And come with me and don’t ever leave.

Please.

But it seems like you both don’t talk as well with your eyes as you thought. And it seems like you don’t know this man in front of you at all.

Because he steps back a bit, nodding, dropping your reaching fingers, and says those fatal words that solidify your fatal flaw.

“I’ll get Tommy to drive you home.”

Joel arrives at Caroline’s house. She somehow convinced him to drop her off at home. She keeps insisting Joel come in for a night cap. But he’s too fucking sad and pissed to even consider speaking to her for another two minutes longer.

His head pounds. But not from the alcohol, from the quiet heartbreak settling in his chest at the memory of your words. At everything that had happened that night. It was meant to be a fun evening. But when he left you outside the bar, and ran to fetch Tommy, he knew this would go down in one of his most regrettable moments. And his most sad, too.

Home.

The word rings in Joel’s ears. But you looked so fucking sad and you were already moving away from him. He had failed to say what he really meant to say — I want you. I just need you.

Maybe that truly was the end and maybe he failed to say what he thought and it turned you off. Made him unwanted in your eyes.

Solidified the fact that he might never be a good man.

Not like Tommy.

But you were turning away — your fingers hanging onto his because he was the one who grabbed your hand first, and pulled you towards him with his fingers, his eyes, with his body — desperately.

You kept pulling away — pulled away with sad eyes and he desperately wanted you to stay but he couldn’t make you do anything. Not when you look like that and you sound equally sad and broken.

So he thought of what you deserve. Maybe even what you wanted at that moment.

He finally dropped your hands, the warm spots your fingers held — were trapped under, brushed against the cold and Joel shivered.

“I’ll get Tommy to drive you home.”

He said it, but didn’t want to act on his words. He wanted to be the one to drive you home and to slip into your house, then maybe into your bed after that.

But he wasn’t — you didn't want him to.

He was sitting in the truck outside Caroline’s house as she pulls all her best tricks to get him to come inside.

But he brushes them all off, and drives back in silence until he slumps in bed.

“Fuckin’ — sit up, Jesus,” Tommy says, pulling your body upright in the passenger seat of the truck.

You grumble with him.

“‘M fine laying down. Stop micromanaging me.”

You’re drunk.

The shot you took before talking to Joel outside the bar was beginning to take root. And all the other shots after that, when Tommy ushered you in to grab one last drink, and you just happened to down three more before leaving.

“‘M not — mircomana— you’re a fuckin’ piece of work.”

You smile lazily at him.

“Like you aren’t?”

He laughs back.

There's a tense silence after Joel’s name pops up on Tommy’s phone that sits comfortably on the center dash.

Tommy speaks first.

“What’d you and Joel talk about?”

“Oh, nothing,” you say, his head twitching a bit at your too-broad, overarching answer. “Your party,” you say when you think he might pry too much.

“Joel isn’t gonna help you with that, you know.”

His words make you freeze. Joel actually was going to help — or was supposed to before the shit show outside the bar.

“We’ll see. Can do it on my own too, though.”

“Thanks again for offering, I — I know it’s dumb.”

“‘S not dumb. ‘N I wanted to do it,” you say, shrugging your shoulders.

“Well thanks anyways.”

You hum in response, looking out the window into darkness.

“What’d you think of Joel’s date?”

Your eyes widen and suddenly, you don’t feel as drunk, sitting up a bit at his question.

“That’s what it was? A date?” you say with a nervous chuckle.

“I guess,” he laughs. “Don’t know what else to call it.”

“She’s nice,” you say, echoing your words to Joel. Somewhere in the back of your mind you note how that sends a pang to your chest.

“I don’t know if he was interested,” Tommy notes.

That doesn’t really give you as much relief as you would’ve hoped for. You’re not hurt because of Caroline. You’re hurt because of everything that happened after. When you tried to get him to take you home, and he pulled away.

Tommy continues when you don’t respond.

“Took her home though.”

Now that sends a shooting throb to your heart.

Like it’s saying Of course he did. Even though that doesn’t seem very much like Joel at all.

“Really?”

“Yup. ‘N I think she’s comin’ to the party. Seemed excited ‘bout it.”

“Oh,” you reply dumbly. You’re sure that’s not helping your case when trying to be indifferent about Joel’s dating life.

Tommy pulls up to your driveway.

Tense silence follows after he puts the truck in park.

“Is that — like — an issue?”

Your heart starts beating a little bit faster.

“No, why would it be?”

“Just wonderin’,” he says with a sigh.

“Is it an issue for you?”

“No. Think she’s good for him.”

There it is again.

Good for him.

Are you not good for him?

You brush it off quickly, moving to unlatch your seatbelt.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, but Tommy’s hand reaches out and stops your movements. You tentatively look up, scared of what might be looking back. He looks a bit pained, or maybe scared — though his hardened brow doesn’t give much emotion.

“I had fun tonight — you looked — look good,” he says, pulling you a little closer, he’s starting to dip his head ever so slightly. If you weren’t paying him so much attention you might not have even noticed his movements.

You don’t pull away.

That would be the end of everything with your friendship. But you would be lying if you said you weren’t terrified — apparently the look is clearly etched on your face.

He laughs a bit suddenly, pulling away.

“Jesus.”

“What – what’s wrong?”

“Nothin’. I —” he pauses for a long time.

You’re scared of what he might say.

“Can I…can I take you out? Like — just the two of us?”

You stare at him with wide eyes. You force yourself to breathe, a couple short puffs of air slip past your lips.

“Oh, I — like you want to go out for food?”

“Food,” he huffs out a short breath mixed with a chuckle. It makes your breath hitch, the uncertainty and knowing he’s acting so strange right now.

“No, like — like a date. I guess.”

chapter v. just you

taglist! comment or message me if you want to be added. (for this series, i took the liberty of adding you to the taglist if you commented that you wanted more parts on chaser. you can let me know if you want to be taken off) kisses!

@sofiparallel @akah565 @going-to-californiaxx @gintheginger @defnotashifter @missgurrl @daddy-din @earthtogrogu @rooney-verse @ratoonstown @skysmiller @pedritosdarling @lovely-ateez @pluzo @spongebobspooploop

@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @tsunamistorm123 @awhoreforalotofshows @disassociation-daydreams @anoverwhelmingdin @violinchick @rhoorl @yoongjennie88 @rainbowcosmicchaos @akah565 @pedropascalissofine @purplemechanics @suzmagine @untamedheart81 @hellaradd @josephine1837 @noisynightmarepoetry @lawh0re

@joelsversion @hellaradd @vanillen @brujitafantomatico @cartoon-garbage04 @jpbplvr @whattownheadshake @beccerjune @pedrotonin @sen-mirjahaal @awesomebunnyqueen @bluetattoos @sunnysaphira @vickywallace @bbyanarchist @gossipgirl-03 @casa-boiardi

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staytinyville · 6 months

Text

Stay Alive (27)

BTS poly!ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: smut (MDNI), piv, unprotected sex (we don't do that here),

A/N NOT BETA. Honest opinion yall what you think of my smut lol

For some odd reason or another, you had stopped by Namjoon and Jungkook’s room to find them missing. When you went to search the other boy’s room it was the same happening. It wasn’t until you checked Jin’s that you found them all huddled up around the elf’s bed.

“Namjoon?” You softly called. “What's going on?”

As you walked further into the room, you took notice of Jin laying in bed looking paler than normal. He had a few tubes connected to his inner arm, giving you a reassuring smile. There was an IV drip on the other side of the bed. You began to frown deeply at his state.

“Hello, beloved.” He called to you.

“Jin!” You gasped out, rushing to his bedside. “What's going on!? Have they not given you anything!?” You cried, looking at his body for any kind of injuries or reason as to why they had to attach him to an IV.

“Hey, it's fine.” He told you, moving a hand to run through your hair. “I just need fluids.”

“Jin, you look pale.” You softly spoke, rubbing your thumb against his cheek.

“I'm fine, beloved.” He repeated.

“What happened?” You asked, turning to the others.

“They took too much blood from him yesterday.” Hoseok answered you. “He's just resting for now.”

“Blood?” You frowned. You turned back to Jin, running your hands through his hair. You remembered how Namjoon said that the company took his DNA through his blood. That must have meant he had tests yesterday.

“Have you guys not given him anything to heal?” You asked.

“I've done the best I could but for now it's just about him getting enough fluids.” Hobi answered.

“Jinnie, I'm sorry.” Tears began to well in your eyes, causing the man to look at you with wide eyes.

“What for?” He asked, reaching a hand out to wipe at your tears.

“For not being here. For not doing more.” You sniffled, dropping your head down.

“You're doing more than enough, my beloved.” Jin told you, scooting closer so he could hold onto your cheeks. “Your presence alone gives me enough joy to keep going. You mean so much to us. Don't ever think you aren't doing your best.” He told you.

“(Y/N), we promise you we are doing what we can to find a way out.” Namjoon told you softly. “Just wait for us.”

“I know I need to wait.” You sighed. “But that doesn't mean I'm not gonna cry about seeing any of you in pain.”

“It'll be worth it in the end.” Hoseok gave you a small smile.

You tried to calm down after hearing them, telling yourself you should listen to them in order to keep both yourself and them safe. They had been here longer–they knew how things went on.

“We'll leave you alone then.” Namjoon spoke up, pulling everyone along to give you time with Jin.

“Do you need anything?” You asked, coming to a stand next to Jin’s bed after the others had shut the door.

You felt anxious watching him just sit in the bed. Jin was always doing something at one point or another. The boy hardly ever rested–wanting to make himself occupied to keep from thinking about the negative of everything.

It was sad to see him lying in bed doing nothing but wait for his body to get better. He seemed fine from what you could tell. The only thing off about him was the fact that he was pale and a bit cold.

“I'm fine, my beloved.” He smiled gratefully.

“I like that name.” You chuckled lightly, sniffling. You wiped at the last of your tears, sitting down on his bed next to him.

“Do you?” He grinned. “Well then, it is yours.”

Your lips began to wobble again as tears wanted to drop from your eyes again. You moved to wipe at them, looking away from Jin.

“Don't look so sad.” Jin told you, pulling at your arm so that you would lay on him. “I'm still here.” He said, wrapping his arms around you.

You cuddled into his chest, wrapping your own arms around him. You moved your legs to between his own, allowing yourself to lay on him completely. He began to pet your head, softly massaging your scalp and neck.

“For how long?” You spoke quietly. “Even if I do wait, I worry it'll be too late.” You told him.

“Never.” He pulled your head to look up at him. “Namjoon knows what he's doing. He has everything under control.”

Jin gave you a kind smile, slowly moving his hands down to your neck. “I know you worry about us and you have feelings of anguish but you have to trust us.”

Your eyes drifted down to his lip as he talked, quickly looking back up at his eyes. “I trust all of you more than anything.” You admitted. “I want to protect you.”

“That means so much to all of us.” He dipped a finger across your forehead, softly trailing down the shell of your ear. You shivered at the feeling, pulling yourself up and closer to his lips.

“There has never been someone as kind as you. You are much too precious for anything to ever hurt you.” He lowered his head, his nose touching yours. “We want to keep you safe for all those monsters out there.”

As he finished his sentence, you leaned up to his lips. They were as soft as you had thought the first time you had met him. They covered yours completely, but it made you buzz at the feeling. Jin was not a harsh person–not unless he was scolding you. With his kisses though, he allowed you to move at your own pace. If he wanted something from you he would test the waters first. He was huge on consent it seemed.

So when he allowed his tongue to zip against your lips, you granted him the wish of exploring your mouth. You pulled yourself up from his legs, moving them so that you straddled his lap instead. Jin scooted up along the bed, leaning back on the headboard for better comfort.

Your knees were placed on either side of his hips, the thin material of your scrubs brushing up against your core as his length began to harden in his sweats. As Jin slowly moved his hands behind your back, he felt you arch away from his touch as your hips pushed forward into his.

As you moved from his lips, your mouth fell open as hot breaths came out. Jin swallowed to keep his throat from going dry as he watched your face fall into one of bliss. His fingers gripped onto your scrubs, pulling them up to expose some of your skin.

His fingers were cold but your heated skin quickly warmed them up. His fingers massaged into your sides, thumbs moving up to rest under your breasts. As you let go of his lips again, he watched with large eyes as you moved to take your shirt off, allowing him a view of your naked torso.

You giggled quietly as you watched him seem to freeze for a moment, only staring at your bra covered chest.

“Jin?” You spoke up.

“Sorry, my beloved.” He flinched for a moment, giving you a flustered smile as he looked back up. “You are just–” He paused, hands caressing you again. “Magnificent.”

You gave a smile, your cheeks starting to hurt from how much your muscles were stretching. His hands went around your back, fingers playing with the straps of your bra clip. He looked up at you expectantly, waiting for consent to take it off. When you grinned down at him, he took the chance to pull the buckles together to unfasten them.

As you took off the clothing piece, Jin didn’t look down at you, instead he pulled you closer to his body, one hand holding your back and the other on your thigh as you got comfortable. You felt his length nudging between your thighs which made you moan.

Jin’s head immediately snapped up to look at you, his hips rutting forward out of instinct. As he did that, you felt him hit your heat more. You dropped your head forward as you began to move your ips back and forth.

Jin looked down at your heaving chest, lips pulling between his teeth for a moment before he stuck out the tip of his tongue to swipe against your hardened nipple. You gasped quietly from the cold of his spit. You looked down at him for a moment, watching as his eyes looked hooded and he nosed at the skin of your chest.

You moaned out when he moved his hips upwards again, closing your eyes and shoving your chest forward. This time he didn’t bother to lightly touch you, he fully wrapped his mouth around one of your nipples. His tongue flicked the bud back and forth, your hips moving as you tried to find stimulation in your core that was heating up quickly.

Jin started to groan, his hands moving to your hips as his fingers dug into your skin. He was panting against your breasts, moving back and forth between the left and right. His hips were rubbing against you in a delicious way that had both of you panting.

When you noticed one of his hands flying down to the bed to grip the sheet and head pulled back you realized he was close. His hips began to move faster, which made you pull back from him. He gasped out when the pressure of you on top of him left, looking at you with a hurt expression.

When he watched you start to take off your pants, he was quick to remove all of his clothing as well. He growled at the IV drip that was still attached to his arm, quickly ripping it out and flexing his arm as his skin healed over quickly.

“Jin!” You screamed out, rushing to check on his arm.

When you noticed all that was left behind was a drop of blood and no bruised or cut skin you looked up at him incredulously.

He only gave you a teasing grin. “I’m fine. I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t.”

“But Jin–” Your eyebrows pulled together.

You squeaked as he grabbed onto your waist, pulling you onto your side and crawling on top. You panted as the bedsheets cooled your heated skin, squirming against the comforter. When Jin crawled between your legs, you felt his cock sit against your thigh, making you whine.

“I promise you. I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t fine.” He whispered, leaning forward to press his lips against yours lightly. “You give me a high rush.”

He pulled back to sit on his knees, softly running his hands along your legs. He ended at your ankles pulling them upwards and together. You leaned your head to this side to watch him, squirming from how he guided his tip along your folds. As his head got caught at your entrance, you gasped quietly, head falling back onto the pillows.

With slow movements that allowed you to feel everything, catching Jin’s attention as you seemed to cry out. Your ankles fell onto his shoulder as he moved his hands to hold your hips down. The moment his hips started moving, all the air left your lungs and you were left a moaning mess.

Everytime Jin would move back into you, you could feel your core clench around him and pull him deeper. With the small slits you could open your eyes to, you saw how Jin’s eyes were clenched shut and his mouth was hanging open as pants left him. When he opened his eyes and found you staring at him, he began to grin, leaning down to your lips.

Your thighs burned for a moment as he stretched your legs back and onto your chest, but that didn’t seem to be much of a bother as his lips wrapped around your own. The teasing kisses and sly giggles leaving his lips made your head spin. He knew what he was doing and you were living for it.

As his lips finally fell open and his eyes squeezed shut, you felt him moving faster. He shifted his hips and suddenly began pounding into your sweet spot. If you were seeing stars before, now you were seeing them explode behind your eyelids.

Jin’s pants reached your ears just as you began to clench tightly around his shaft and your orgasm hit you. As it did, Jin groaned from having to pull out quickly and allowed his cum to paint your stomach and back of your thighs. He saw some of his cum land on your core, making him breathe deeply. He moved to wipe it off you, causing you to flinch from how sensitive your entrance was at the moment.

“I’m sorry, my beloved.” Jin whispered, slowly stretching your legs out to pull them down.

“It’s okay.” You smiled tiredly at him.

With a kiss to your lips he got up to go to his bathroom to get something to clean you up. As you laid in the bed, you began to frown over the IV machine that was still there and dripping. When Jin came back, you turned to look at him.

“Jinnie,” You called to him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He gave you a dazzling handsome smile, nodding his head. “I’m good now.” He told you, moving in to cuddle your side.

“I might need that drip now though.”

Series Masterlist

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the-s1lly-corner · 11 months

Note

I'm humbly requesting that a Spot x Reader. Where reader is a small time thief that runs into a the spot is unsuccessfully tries to rob them, but Reader just turns the tables. Then is like "ok you are so bad it's pathetic. You want to come with me lol?"

Spot w/ a criminal reader!

off topic from the ask but im listening to old music from like, middle school era, BROO i forgot all about half of these bangers anyways ueueueue ive been wanting to write something like this but ive kinda been swamped with asks so im glad someone requested this!! hope this is alright! honestly i kinda just bully spot in this post

"somebody call an ambulance..! ..but not for me-" basically

honestly if you wanted to you could probably beat him up and rob *him*, even if you dont have any powers or fancy tools

but.. given how he immediately wilted and backed up and

oh my god did he just whimper

god hes pathetic

wet paper bag

anyways

you cant help but to feel bad for this loser

so against your better judgement you offer to let him tag along with you in your own crimes and

oooh my god hes a lot worse than you thought

for one it doesnt even look like he knows how to use his own powers and-

oh he actually doesnt

after a particularly pathetic display of malice he kinda just

slumps over

its kinda like looking at a wounded puppy

so, you just kinda try to comfort him, or at least try to hype him up

anyways you guys keep bumping into each other after that, you both get to know each other better. you learn about how he became the spot and how hes trying to learn how to use his holes

pause

okay you really tried to keep a straight face anytime he bluntly said hes trying to use his holes to do things, he just says it so. casually, with no second thought that it may sound dirty

anyways

you cant exactly help him with learning how his holes work since you yourself dont have them

BUT you can help him with learning basic self defense, how to scope out people to rob, and so on

this is assuming the reader is a basic robber

im sorry my thoughts are kinda everywhere rn so i dont really. have a solid train of thought

moving on, imagine spot gets more confident in himself and his skills as a criminal and you two become this little villain duo

i think thatd be cute, actually

again like i always remind yall, spot doesnt really have anyone left in his life so hed leech onto you for dear life. its been so long since hes had someone in his life, and the fact its someone whos actively siding with him and rooting for him? again you didnt specify if this were to be romantic or platonic so this post is vague

but i feel like regardless hed form a little crush on you; like

hes just a silly guy like that

anyways

yeah!!

i wish i had more ideas esp since this is an idea ive been thinking of for a while but my brain is jello today, melted jello

#atsv #atsv spot #the spot #the spot x reader #spot x reader #jonathan ohnn #jonathan ohnn x reader

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muzanswaifu · 6 months

Text

Ive seen a lot of people confuse me leaving for “people being mean to writers” or getting hate for the things i write of how i write them but its not

But Im not leaving just bc of the audience, i can handle some hate and honestly it was kinda fun from them bc ik that hate comes from jealousy and trolling

Im leaving because of other writers and my “friends”

Ik i said i would get into it and i really dont want to all that much bcuz im tired and just wanna be done with this but it feels wrong to leave under a false assumption and let people think their actions dont have consequences

Ive dealt with a lot from my peers on here, back talking, hating, straight up bullying, and i just cant anymore

I cant deal with drama irl AND on the internet, bcuz at the end of the day i can just delete everything on here and be done with it all so thats wat im gonna do

Tbh this has been building up for a while, i can only handle so much from “friends” and irl i cut people off pretty quick and on here should be no exception but ive fucked up and let people do watever too long and its bitten me in the ass

Yes ik im dramatic lol, ive gotten that a lot and a lot of people hate me for, a lot of people love me for it, its how i am and it keeps things interesting. I get it, i like to make a lot of call out posts. Y? Bc people deserve to be called out and idgaf ab appearances on here. If someone did something bad, im gonna call them out bc last i checked its my blog and i can do wat i want. If u wouldnt do it, thats fine, its ur decision, and this is mine

Yes, i dont post a lot, I. Am. Busy. I have work. I have school. I have a social life. I cant write smut all the time even tho i want to, and at the end of the day, its not my job to write smut all day so people can read it and move on. I like to interact with yall, its fun, i like to talk to a lot of different people on her since my irl friends arent really into anime. Apparently people think im a loser for that? Ok? Sorry i like to talk to people on the internet when im bored instead of producing smut all day for people to read, ig i shouldve remembered im only on here to provide content since i dont deserve to have some fun, my mistake

Requests? Requests r a generosity. So many of my requesters have been absolute angels with being patient in receiving their requests, happy to just see me writing or interacting at all. Others have hounded me regularly telling me im lazy and selfish for not completing my requests, saying im an asshole for not completing them over my own projects bc “they asked first”. LMAO, U WRITE IT THEN???? i dont owe anything to anyone, certainly not someone who comes here solely to read my fics, not even leaving any interaction or encouragement whatsoever, then leave.

The icing on the cake? The tip of the iceburg? Discord of all places. Im sorry some of u didnt enjoy my server, i really am. Ive never used discord before and me and the mods did the best we could and im sorry i couldnt be as attentive to it due to my busy schedule

Im sorry i couldnt get there in time to stop conflicts or just straight up call people out, and im sorry someone had to make another server since they didnt like how i was handling mine bc i didnt take their side in a fight that THEY WERE WRONG IN? But i tried to be nice, tried to defend her and nicely explain y she was she cant say anything they want in any situation bc people get hurt. but it didnt matter. Y? Bc apparently i cant tell people what they can and cant say…

And that made me realize something! Theyre right! Theyre absolutely right and im so stupid for not seeing it until now! I cant stop people from saying things to me. I cant stop people from talking shit ab me. I cant stop people from even saying things on my own blog and server! I just cant. Bcuz in the end, people r gonna say what they want and do what they want bc people dont wanna learn. They dont wanna talk. They dont wanna hear ab how what they do or say affects others. They just wanna do what the want when the want, and they wanna be allowed to, bc fuck everybody else. Everybody is the victim in their own story, and i deserve to be the victim in mine.

And what would a victim do in this situation?

Leave.

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crushedsweets · 14 days

Text

ANSWERING ASKS PT 4?

ok this is like 30+ asks LOL its mostly stuff about me/my art with a little crp sprinkled in im sorry... ill make a post thats actually answering the crp asks with real answers that arent "ILL DO IT EVENTUALLY I SWEAR" lololol

YOURE BOTH SO SWEET i havent been this passionate about smth in so long so hopefully im here for a while... thank u guys for indulging me. it makes me happy to post LOL

with love pls dont call me that buuuut. ninakate. ticciwork. ninatoby. ticcijack. ninajack. notice how its all in the same group...

hiii i dont plan to anytime soon! IF I WERE TO, cody and rouge are probably 'next in line' to being put in my AU, but i have no plans to actually commit to that

omg ok its funny cuz rn i HAVE ONE but its just me in it cuz im too lazy to organize all the bots and verification and whatnot. im also nervous about making a server cuz of some online occurrences that happened after u sent this HAHA so i'm kinda putting it off... but i reblogged tombs server and im sometimes active in there if u wanna join that one!

ffrhrughagahhhh

no ur right theyre such a power couple. i know we joke about toby being useless bf and clocky being badass gf but they're both really cool together.

I FORGOT I MADE THE TWILIGHT COMMENT LMFAAAOOOOOO I NEED i need. i need toby to find a random twilight shirt at a thrift and snag it for kate.

ME TOOOO its so delightful. i have so much fun playing with them like barbies.. making them kiss n whatever. LMFAOOOO so silly but yk

JEFF STANS ARE SO FUNNYYYYYYYYY i like you guys. laughing jack stans scare me but thats cuz that damn clown scares me... nothing that yall have done. youre just braver than me. LOL

i will not do this...

no literally its really bad. i hold horrible grudges BAHAHA but im working on it. im getting over my purple beef

omg. i listened to it and that was really cool. i like that thank u sm for sharing

IDK WHAT POST UR REFERING TO BUT YOURE RIGHT. LMAOOOOO

IM SORRYYYY im so sorry. i feel like this fandom is so small and most of the fans dont really ship in general so it suuuucks shipping here.. but i love them..

oh my god i need to i keep forgetting. the nina art i jus tposted of her holding th eknife was kinda.. kinda referencing her behaviors..

i do too!!! ive been neglecting them so bad im so sorry..

like the IEPFB tea party scene

I NEVER DID IT ANON IM SO SORRY IM GOING TO HELL

is this a song

i have not! i havent read alot of stories actually... i kinda like doing my own thing with them HAHA

omfg i had a clocknina drawing but i ended up privating but i think i should unprivate it...

ok actually im sorry i just am bad at requests omfg LMFAOO IM SORRY im so focused on nina ... forgive me...

THANK YOUUUU youre very sweet i appreciate you!!! <3

YEAH he's...one of the more tragic people. 100%. all loss

WHAT IS LIUJONJACK LOL WHOS JON??? ALSO LIUOTPS IS FUNNY

wdym ? !

LMFAOOOOO HEY ITS NOT A BAD COMBO THERES NOTHING WRONG WITH BEING A NINAKATE SHIPPER........

THANK YOU CUPCAKE i really like nina.. or my version i gues si dunno.. i like everyone else's nina too. i like this nina we got going on together

ok i keep grouping these together but also making them seperate im so bad at organizing these asks but HAHA I LOVE THEM TOO i swear ill try to get some ticciwork stuff out soon!!! my spring semester is almost over so hopefullyyy..

this is how you know i suck ass cuz this was christmas time and im replying NOW. im so sorry. i initially planned to draw them hanging around a tree but i didnt get around to it then got embarassed and never replied.... but i agree it would have been cute. ha di notfailed. LOL

#asks

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maukiki-but-cringefail · 2 months

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i swear to fucking god im not a hater but if i see another fucking badly-made thumbnail boring neurotypical straight guy with lame monotone voice talking over buncha mfb clips video of the worst metal fight beyblade takes ive ever seen with the unfunniest jokes im gonna rearrange the DNA sequence of the closest person to me to that of a Doto greenamyeri nudibranch because i swear to god just shut the fuck up.

how the fuck do you meatheads base how much you like a character over powerscaling and win ratio. would you prefer a wild bear over your own mother because the bear is stronger than her? thats how you fuckin sound like. i gotta rant this shit out because i had enough if i hear another fucking "ryūga da goat🥶🐐" "beyblade really is that serious🤣" "This show is so acoustic😵" "did you know that moses split the sea with a be-" WE FUCKING KNOW THE WHOLE WORLD KNOWS AT THIS POINT. ALSO IF YOU DEADASS USE AUTISM AS AN INSULT LET ALONE USE THE WORD ACOUSTIC OR ARTISTIC FOR IT STAY 7 KILOMETERS AWAY FROM ME AND ALSO DONT WATCH METAL FIGHT BEYBLADE EVERYONE IS GAY AND AUTISTIC YOU KNOW WHY⁉️ which cishet neurotypical out there makin spinning tops fight with neon green or blue whateverthefuck hair half the cast looks like they been hiding in closet before their debut episode.

PRIME example of these bad takes is , because of powerscaling again the hate on masamune ? i thought people hated him because they thought he was annoying (like how i did when i first watched it when i was little) (FOUR YRS OLD) and like id get that as in he talks alot or whatever but people hate him because. fucking. "he has a low win ratio and claims to be the number one blader" BITCH THATS A 15 YR OLD. or like around that age somewhere you get the point. so what if the taco doritos colour palette guy a little confident in himself bitch you hate fun you hate sillyness. people also use him as like a tool to praise kenta? constantly i see takes like "kenta is like masamune if masamune didnt suck" or something as in they both try to rise to the top and get stronger but one of them doesnt talk shit like did you know you can praise a character without putting down the other one motherfucker. another one is "masamune isnt a legendary blader because he talks shit but cant actually back it up" Hey my brother in Allah lets play a little game. which one of the fucking legendary bladers talks big about himself. you have ten seconds. 10...9...8....KING. KING IS RIGHT THERE .

also saw someone say damian shouldve been a legendary blader⁉️⁉️mf that boy was on rearrangement stereoids the effects of that wouldve already worn off by the time of metal fury how does that even WORKK😭😭 he was probably off with 3 big fucking pet dogs to eat custard pudding or sumn idk .Ryūga dickriding has been a thing for for ever but right now for some reason people decided they didnt talk about that guy enough. theres so many videos on him guys there are other characters to talk about i can write a three billion word essay on damian but i dont think i can say anything about ryūga that hasnt been said at this point. also the people who claim hes alive BECAUSE hes alive in the manga is crazy like yall cant see those as two different universes? im not saying wether if i think hes alive or not this isnt about that dont miss the point. i wanted to make text posts about mfb for forever but i was embarrased for god knows why so i just posted my mfb fanart on my main but i cant take it anymore (eatina burger with no honey mustard) must speak this time im afraid

also sorry if this is hard to read im not good at ending sentences where i should punctuation jumpscare. powerscaling mfs will hear u say u like a character like for example tsubasa or sumn and immediately bring up ryūga like shut the fuck up this shit happened on twitter i dont even use twitter i opened the app for 000.1 seconds. you just jelaous ryūga will never serve like did mf also im not a ryūga hater anyways i reached the character limit fuck

#rant post #Sorry i had to . FUCK.#mfb #beyblade #beyblade metal saga #metal fight beyblade #beyblade metal fight #beyblade metal fury #ryuuga #Ryūga #masamune kadoya #me if i was written by vivziepop

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toiletwipes · 11 months

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IM WAITING FOR THE PUNISHMENT, I KNOW ITS ON MY WAY | vampire!wilbur

~3k words / hey hey hey. so ahah. yeah. @l0veb0mb1ng keeps dropping bangers and they have good vampire fics so I couldn't help myself! blame her! anyways. hope yall enjoy!

[You get a little too invested in the murders happening around the city and get introduced to the phrase: fuck around and find out. Wilbur happened to be the person to save you. And he's kind of a vampire. Roll the tapes.]

Nothing makes sense in this fic, I am so sorry but the title is from Custer by Slipknot. I'll do a part 2 <//3

When one pictures their ideal death, it usually involves passing on during their sleep or perhaps something just as kind, maybe old age.

All this to say this is not what you pictured for yourself.

Curled up, in someone else's arms, a half-stranger, cradling your body as the two of you put pressure on the wound in your neck. You can hardly speak, struggling to even breathe, and all you can see is this man, speaking to you and you're hearing none of it. And after considering everything, yes you don't want to die… but dying in his arms seems nice.

A very handsome man, with brown, wispy, curling hair into his eyes as he looked over you, around you as he tried to find anything that could help. There was nothing. And you liked the way his eyes were red, despite knowing why they're red. His smile, you remember, had been the prettiest thing you'd ever have the pleasure to see.

"Wil-" you choke on the blood on your mouth, trying to speak, and his hands shake as they press harder on your neck and he shushes you, every part of him shaking even with the weight of your body in his lap.

"It's okay, you're gonna make it out of here, the ambulance-" and you lift a trembling hand to graze his cheek. It leaves a streak of blood on his cheek by his mouth.

"Smi- le. P-p-... please." And the two of you hear the sirens already, and his eyes flicker between the street and your face. And he chokes on air he doesn't need before flashing a small smile.

"You're going to make it out of here, I swear. You'll make it." He kept repeating it even as you felt the ache, the pain in your neck dull. Before you could realize it, you're being placed on the ground, gently as he could and without the added pressure from him, you gasp and gag on the flowing blood. But it doesn't last long, bright lights show and people slide into your blurring vision.

For better or for worse, you close your eyes and let them deal with it. Sleep tempts you enough to listen.

***

Blinking your eyes awake, you tilt your head to the side to see the monitoring equipment and the IV attached to your arm. You swallow, with an extremely dry throat you notice, and look away. You've always had a weak stomach when it comes to these things. Looking around as much as you could though, there's no one in the room. Your eyes trail to the door with the window and open blinds and people pass by every few seconds. Nobody opens the door.

You sigh, not that you really expected someone but… the last thing, the very last thing you remember, is the smiling face of a truly beautiful man. The thought of it, separated with the choking on your own blood part, still makes you feel warm.

The table beside you has your things on it, your phone and your keys. And a bouquet of flowers sitting in a vase, the prettiest you'd seen. You recognize tulips and carnations but nothing else. Still the white and blue flowers are pretty and thoughtful.

No tag on them to show who the flowers were from. Frowning, you take your phone, groaning for a second as you reach with a weak arm. Leaning back into the bed out of breath, the phone lays on your stomach, the cold screen apparent through the thin sheets.

When you catch your breath, you're quick to unlock the phone, going straight to your call log. There's a missed call from your boss and then there's your aunt in town, but there's one call that makes your eyebrows raise up.

It's a phone number you don't recognize, but checking the text messages, it seems like you did know him. Or, were going to know him. And then it all comes back to you.

Meeting him at night, having information about these strange killings in your part of the city, and then after a week of this, being attacked. Not by him. Something else entirely. And he'd tried his best to call the ambulance, let them know of your location and held tight to make sure you made it till then. At least you think. (And if you think hard enough, you remember part of his name. Will, maybe.)

The last thing you truly do remember is his smile and the warmth it brought you even when touching him made you shiver and the cold ground still sink into your bones, even now in this hospital, you could feel it.

The door opens and a doctor walks in.

He explains you lost a lot of blood, that they managed to get to you in time and that if they were a minute late, you wouldn't have been here. But then he explains that you've got a patch on your neck, that despite losing so much blood, it didn't even need stitches. ("It was… strange.")

When you asked about the flowers, he hums and scratches his beard, "I think I saw a guy deliver them to your room but other than that, I don't know I'm sorry." You mumble your thanks, sinking into your bed before the nurse comes back in and you ask for another blanket.

They let you out after twenty-four hours, and you make it home in time to see… nothing has changed.

Everything was exactly as you left it.

Which also meant the dinner you were in the middle of eating was still there. You grimace, throwing the whole plate away as you move through your apartment. Nothing had been out of place.

Tapping your fingers against your folded arms, you think absently about the wound. About how you asked if he could anything, from that night, and he froze, it was for a split second but he froze. And then he shook his head, stopping and cutting himself off every few words. But it sounded mostly like he couldn't do it. Like it would hurt him. And hey, modern medicine has its wonders, so you're not too upset.

But that night when you go to peel the bandage back after getting completely undressed to shower, your breath is stolen completely. There is hardly a wound, sign that a wound was ever there in the first place. There's two tiny dots, dragged down in a jagged line, but they're mostly scars. Fresh, and still tender when you graze over it with a finger, but still. Scars.

It made you wonder.

Whatever he did, he didn't make you into something like him. That much was obvious. The hospital food had left you hungry for real food, but the food was still things like a sandwich or a box of donuts, things like that. Nothing like whatever made him hungry.

So, scrubbing your skin off of any dirt, you get out, and dry as fast as you can. Throwing on shorts and a hoodie, you sit in the middle of your bed, arms wrapped around your legs as you dialed the phone number to this man.

He doesn't answer. And he doesn't answer the second call, and that's when you leave the voicemail. "Hey, um, Will, is that right? I- it doesn't matter, or it's not that urgent but it matters to me but I need you to call me? Or something because I'm seriously freaking out and something's wrong. Please call me back." You've never felt more pathetic in that moment but what could you afford to lose?

Dignity means nothing to you right now and as you pad to your kitchen to eat, you just knew you needed answers. Leaving your phone on the bed just in case because if he calls, and you know it's a bad time to be petty, you want him to feel just a little desperate like you did. Enough to call you a second time.

And when you come out of the kitchen after eating the leftover soup in the fridge, you see your phone has one missed call. And nothing else. Not even a voicemail.

You wonder if you should call him back when you hear frantic banging on your door. Glancing at your phone one last time, you manage to convince yourself that it couldn't possibly be him. It's way too soon, there's no way he lives close by and when did you ever give him your address?

The frantic banging didn't stop until you slide the lock off the door and opened it, and your mouth gaped open at seeing him. Him.

"I-" you stammer, struggling to form a thought. "I called you like four minutes ago, how-" he waves his hand and stops you from talking again.

"Will you let me in? And show me what's wrong?" His voice pleads with you and you bite down on your lip, chewing as you contemplated it for a second. It is why you called him, after all.

Letting him in, you lock the door behind him and show him to the couch. He doesn't sit but you're too bothered to care about it, you sit with your legs tucked under you.

"I want to start by saying I don't exactly remember everything that night, just that I was supposed to meet you and when I did, I got attacked and I- I almost died."

("Hey, hey, stay with me, you're going to be okay. Y- you're going to make it, just- just listen to my voice okay?" His voice shakes in your memory. And you have to pull all of your strength together to stay focus, even with all the blood leaving and choking and the hot, blinding pain in your neck.)

He doesn't move but you can see the flashes of emotion on his face.

"And- and when I got home and went to take a shower, it's just. Well, look." You stuttered through the beginning, breath catching in your throat as you thought about it and when you pulled the jacket down enough, just to show the scars, he stiffened. "And I wanted to know if you did anything to me- if you tried to heal me, even a little bit-" and he shakes his head, turning away and to the window. He stands by it and yeah, you look at his hands, they're closed and shaking with how hard he's clenching them.

"I told you at the beginning, there are going to be risks, looking into this." And he turns around, face definitely angry and frustrated. He can't cry, and it's not a thing of refusing to, no you can see them building in his eyes and they just won't fall. "If I tried to save you the way I was, you would have rathered me to kill you by now." And he starts pacing.

You look down at the ground, not feeling an ounce of guilt or regret. You know the truth of those murders, first hand. You know what's killing them and that's more than what the public knows. But it almost killed you.

"You have to drop it." He speaks.

And automatically, you refused, "no." You didn't even want to entertain what he wanted you to do.

"Either you stop looking into this or you die. It's as simple as that." He says, moving away from the window and towards you.

"The people need to know they're not safe-"

"-they already know!" He shouts, stopping four steps away from you. He digs his palms into his eyes, "five people have died the same exact way and nobody has been caught. People already know they're not safe. And if you tell them what, a fucking blood-sucking demon is the person behind it, they'll never believe you. And then you'll still get killed just like everyone else." He drops the palms from his hands and then steps closer, and despite being so frustrated and scared, your heart beats harder at being so close to him.

"You almost died already, just please stop." His hands hover over your neck and face, close enough to feel the chill of his cold skin.

"I can't stop. The people who died-" "-they're already dead, there's nothing you can do for them." And he steps away and when you watch him, he releases a breath he doesn't need. He turns away and for a moment, things are quiet.

And thinking real quick, to the moment where he stood so close and stared you in the eye like you staying alive mattered more than the justice these people deserved- you recall the dark irises. Nothing like the red color before.

"You're hungry." You state, and his shoulders tense up. "Why?"

"Trying to lose weight, it doesn't matter. That's not what I'm here for." He refuses to turn around.

"It- I just- there's still one thing that I'm confused about." He doesn't say anything as you stand up, moving closer to him. "I was bleeding out, I was right there. It would've been easy to-"

"To kill you?" He turns around and the both of you freeze at how close the other is, despite him being far more aware of it. And yes, that's what you want to know. He was right there, the same kind of creature that's killing your city's people, holding your bleeding body and you were right there.

"It would've been easy," you say, and his eyes dart to your face. He searches your eyes for something you can't describe.

"It wasn't." He said in the end and then backed up, backs away from you, holding his breath again. "Stop trying to be a hero and lay low for a while." And then he slammed the door on his way out.

***

It's one thing, to be told to stop being a hero, it's another to follow through with the advice. It's not like you wanted to die, far from it. But knowing what you know, you couldn't just let everyone fend for themselves against a feral vampire.

Not to mention, you're not going to listen to someone be cryptic, be the prettiest man you've ever met, and then leave you alone to make stupid decisions.

So right now, you've been following whispers and half-true rumors about this guy. It leads you all the way to this house. Right on the corner and in the middle of a neighborhood. You wonder if that's by choice for a second before wandering inside, quiet as you could with creaking floorboards. Not to mention, the door was already unlocked and swinging in the wind.

Not a good sign.

The inside was in a worse state. Things toppled over, blood splattered every imaginable surface. Bodies littered the floor. It was harder to hold the bile in as you followed the trail of chaos up the stairs, following the noise. As soon as you reach the top of the stairwell, you hear Will's voice and your heart beats a little faster. What the fuck is he doing here? And after a few whispered words, you heard vile things.

Limbs torn, flesh bitten off. Awful stuff and by the time you can even think of moving your feet because was that Will? Did he just die? You see something tossed across the hallway and seconds later, Will walks into your line of sight. He is just covered in blood. It's smeared around his mouth, coating his hands and it's seeping into his clothes. His hair caught some of it but in all honesty, he looked every bit of monster he claimed to be.

And you couldn't feel more relieved to see him.

"Oh thank fucking- you're alive." You feel your shoulders drop and you run up the stairs, just close enough to wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your forehead against his chest, standing on the lower step. You make a point to ignore the blood.

His hands slowly come up to rest on your shoulders, pushing you away enough to give him space. Enough space to tilt your head back to meet his eyes. His eyes are wide, wild and completely red. Brighter than anything.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" His voice drops in pitch and it's almost a growl with the way he speaks so low. And shit, you were supposed to stay low, weren't you?

"I caught wind of the guy being here and I was just-" your words get caught off as you watch him move, his hands dragging blood across skin and clothing, wrapping themselves around your throat in a delicate motion before pushing you against the wall, still on the stairs.

"Yeah, he's dead. Made sure of it." Your eyes, previously focused on his face, dashed to look at the dead body's direction but he clicked his tongue, lifting a finger to nudge your face back towards him. "Eyes on me." And something about him, probably knowing he's a monster, covered in blood, right after killing the man you've been tracking down, makes his gentle touch feel even softer.

He groans, leaning his nose into your hair and inhaling, and he nearly covers you in his body with how close he is. "Can feel your heartbeat under my hands, it beats so fast. Thinking about me?"

And you know your heart beat even faster, knowing he could hear it, feel it. "Are you gonna kill me this time?" You ask, because this is a strangely ill-fitting position to kill someone. Because you want him to be this close because…

"Oh, I don't want to kill you- maybe get a taste of you but," he moans into your hair, a hand leaving to press against the wall beside your head, "no, no. Want you alive. Want you begging, squirming underneath me. Need you. Need you so fucking bad" And then he presses even closer, his hips pressing against yours and you can feel him. Feel him hard and twitching beneath blood-soaked clothes. And by then you couldn't keep your hands off of him, coming up to grip his clothes, bite back your whines as he continues to grind you against the wall.

Then, a moment of clarity, you remember you're in a house full of dead bodies. Probably all monsters.

"Take me home, Will, and you can have me," whatever possessed you to say that, you don't know. But he pulls back and as you're about to head downstairs, he presses a hand against the back of your head, pulling you close to him as he kisses you. Hard with teeth clacking against each other, nipping at your lip before pulling away. Listening to you pant against his mouth.

"Hold on," he whispers against your lips, stealing another kiss before wrapping your arms and legs around him and all you can think as the world blurs around you is how lucky you are you aren't dead. Strange thing to say before you get fucked into the next week by someone who is probably legally dead- after he just slaughtered a house full of monsters- quite the strange thing to say.

But still. You're lucky. You're alive, and you're starting to think you might like this guy.

Strange things indeed.

#wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x reader #c: wilbur soot #au: vampire #vampire wilbur #tw: gore

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