#honest to god i had to halt at every question bc they were so fucking FUNNY

[puckyeahobx]

just a little bit is all im asking for

a/n: sorry y’all but this account is a rafe cameron woobification zone. go cry about it. (NOT MY GIF)

word count: 4.6k

summary: miss y/n and rafe are fwb and of course it’s complicated bc why wouldn’t it be?

warnings: none!! pure fluff

You weren’t really sure how you had ended up in Rafe Cameron’s bed almost nightly for the past month, but you weren’t complaining. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that your older brother was hired to take care of the Cameron property and you had nothing better to do than help him out. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you were a Pogue through and through and he needed to rebel against his Kook life in one way or another. Or maybe, just maybe, it was some weird twist of fate. 

Whatever was going on between you and Rafe hadn’t started romantic, or even sexual. It was an honest to God work relationship. But then, without warning, he started getting close to your brother which meant that he was then closer to you too, even if that just meant in proximity. From this new up close and personal perspective you got to know him in a way you never thought possible given the ways of the island. 

For one thing, it became increasingly harder to ignore how blue his eyes were. Or how the muscles of his broad shoulders would move beneath his tan skin. His laugh was the hardest to ignore because of how surprising it was. When he was with Ward or Sarah it was like he was a ghost: the laughter always died in his chest before bubbling out of him the way you now knew it could. As he got closer to you you began to see everything that he was in a whole new light. His bones, his skin, his muscles, they all looked brand new and rearranged when he was the Rafe you knew on the boat. 

You also got closer to the parts of him that weren’t physical. It wasn’t as if the three of you were having intense heart to hearts or anything, but he was definitely an open, alive version of Rafe Cameron. Through the jokes he cracked with your brother, the way he talked about his family and his so called friends (or, in Ward’s case, didn’t talk about his family and friends), or just the way he carried himself on the open ocean and away from Kook life, his priorities and true colors really started to show. He was just a guy who hated everything he had been taught to stand for and hated himself for standing for it for so long. He was no anti-establishment anarchist by any means, but he knew that there was something very wrong with the way that he had been raised and resented what it had done to him. It was no secret that he had struggled with substance abuse in the past, he talked about it a lot more than you expected, but now that that was in his past he was able to clearly see what had caused him to go down that road, he stayed away from it as much as possible. 

So maybe it wasn’t because of fate or rebellion or your constant presence on his property. Maybe it was just because you were the only thing available at the time that didn’t remind him of the pieces of himself that made him hate the person he saw in the mirror.

++++++++++++++

It was another long day on the boat. You guys didn’t really do anything to be honest, but Ward didn’t seem to care. He barely noticed that your brother was on the payroll or that the boat was gone almost every day, but as long as he didn’t realize and suddenly have a problem with either of those facts, it was going to be smooth sailing. Your brother was doing something in the hull of the boat with some generator (you never listened when he told you these things) and you were on the main deck tanning and reading. Well, trying to read. Rafe was with your brother and you were pretending like it didn’t annoy you that he wasn’t paying attention to you. Whatever you guys were was not technically public knowledge, but was it too much to ask that he paid more attention to you than some generator at the bottom of a boat? 

You were in the middle of plotting his untimely demise when you heard footsteps coming up to the deck which meant you quickly had to become very interested in your book. He didn’t say anything as he approached you, moving to sit too far away on your right. Since you were still pretending that you weren’t annoyed, you continued reading as if nothing was wrong. Because nothing was wrong, right? How were you going to be mad at the boy whose bed you happened to end up in every night for not hanging out with you while the sun was still up? Besides, he was your brother’s friend, not yours. 

“Good book?” He asked after several moments of awkward silence where his eyes stuck to your exposed skin and you reread the same sentence over and over again.

You gave him a slight nod, “The best.”

You saw him nod to himself and look away from you out of the corner of your eye. He looked like he was thinking about something. Hesitating in a very familiar way. “You weren’t there when I woke up this morning.”

The breath rising in your lungs died immediately as you heard the words fall off his tongue. It was clear that he was trying not to sound hurt, but the breathy nature of the barely-there whisper was a dead giveaway. 

You didn’t know what to say, because it was true. You weren’t there when he woke up that morning. But this wasn’t out of the ordinary for you guys, really. Sometimes you fell asleep after you hooked up, only for both of you to wake up a few hours later and sneak you out through the window. Other times you both stumbled through an awkward exchange, only for you to be gone almost as soon as it had started. But you never left without saying goodbye. But given the nature of your arrangement, you thought that was purely coincidental. It didn’t seem like something that would bother a friends with benefits, so when it was 6:00 am and his arm was still draped across your stomach (holding on for dear life) you thought it would just be best for the both of you if you didn’t see his eyes flutter open in the first seconds of awake-ness, or the way his muscles looked under his skin when he undoubtedly stretched his huge body out across his sheets. That seemed like a line that you both had already silently agreed didn’t need to be crossed, so to hear his voice waver, even slightly, as he questioned your whereabouts startled you to say the least.

“Yeah, uh...I wasn’t feeling good this morning,” Without looking at him you paused, trying to think on your feet, “The sunrise woke me up and I realized my stomach felt weird,” Another pause, “I’m sorry.”

He looked at you now, his arms resting on his folded up knees, “You could have woken me up...I could have gotten you some medicine or something....”

You knew he was trying to be sweet but you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Why are you laughing? I’m serious!”

Halting your giggles, you reached out to set a hand on his arm reassuringly, “I know you are, there’s just something about the Rafe Cameron treating the girl he’s fucking’s minor stomach ailment. Seems a little off brand.”

He scoffed and looked down again, not laughing nearly as much as you had hoped he would. “Who exactly is this ‘Rafe Cameron’ you know so well then? You think I’m just some asshole?”

His voice was ice cold which was never a good sign. This wasn’t a side of him that you ever were on the receiving end of, but based on your experiences as an observer, things were about to spiral out of control real quick. 

“Rafe, you know I was just kidding-”

“Well I just don’t think it’s funny to think that one of my best friends thinks I’m such a useless asshole, that’s all.”

And then, before you could respond, he was up and back on the lower deck with a huff. He was stomping, of course. He’s a stomper.

You watched until you couldn’t see any of that hair you loved anymore and then immediately threw your head and groaned. Feeling immeasurably stupid, you rubbed your hands on your face in frustration. You were already lying, why did you have to say all that? Of course he would have helped you. You knew what it meant to him that he was becoming a better person than he used to be. He wore his reputation like a scarlet letter and here you were, throwing it in his face for the sake of selling a lie. And for what? To avoid admitting that you had to sneak out before you did something you regretted? Like telling him how much the way he wrapped his arms around you instinctively in his sleep made you want to break down into sobs? Or maybe that despite the unorthodox situation you had gotten yourselves in, you had never felt safer or more taken care of in your life. How embarrassing to have to hurt him with a lie over something so trivial as the way you couldn’t help but adore him all day, every day, with every breath you took.

Not to mention that you really were best friends, just like he said. You were best friends long before whatever was going on started, well, going on, and hopefully you would be best friends after. 

After. 

It was in this moment that you realized you weren’t realized that you weren’t ready for an after. This, this thing you had was something that you weren’t ready to have to get over. The rules were fuzzy and there weren’t any titles, but those moments with him where it was just him were the only things that had any residency in your heart and in your mind for the last month. Whatever this was to him, you were going to be it and you were going to be the best at it. As long as it kept him within arms reach. 

But first, you had to make it up to him.

++++++++++++++

The two of you had set up a sort of system over the last couple of weeks. After a long day on the boat or in town or whatever it was for the day, you would head your separate ways and wait until your brother had disappeared to his room to give the all clear. At that point, you would wait for Rafe to give the all clear on his end (the Ward and Sarah of it all sometimes getting in the way until the wee hours of the night), when you would finally sneak out your window and head over on your bike to avoid the noise of a car engine. You secretly didn’t think that your brother would even care that much, but sneaking around was just too much fun to pass up.

However, tonight you didn’t waste time on all of that. You waited for your brother to go to bed or do whatever it is he does after hours but mostly because you didn’t want to answer any questions because, to be honest, you didn’t have any answers. But once you knew that he wouldn’t be a problem, you hopped on your bike and made a beeline for the Cameron estate. 

His bedroom was on the second floor, but at this point you were very well acquainted with the makeshift ladder he had built years ago when he realized that his locked bedroom door was never going to be enough distance between himself and Ward. You got halfway up the side of the house when you heard the yelling and the crashing. If his icy tone on the boat wasn’t a good sign, this sign was practically screaming “Enter at Your Own Risk”.

Finally reaching the top, you banged on his window just as you caught sight of him about to throw a very expensive looking lamp. His room was a complete mess of shattered glass. Your heart broke at the realization that he had to have been at this for hours.

When he heard your knocking he stopped dead in his tracks and turned. At first glance, his whole body softened at the sight of you, but then it was as if he had remembered what had happened all of a sudden and he rebuilt the stone wall behind his eyes immediately. Nonetheless, he stalked over towards you and opened the window.

“What do you want?” He huffed at you through the window.

“Can I come in?”

He turned around and stepped back, making room for you to get your body in. He usually helped with this part. “I’m not in the mood to have sex with you.”

His remark hurt more than it should have and it probably had to do with the distance between the two of you and the lamp still threatening to be thrown from the hands that you knew wanted desperately to be gentle. “Can’t a friend come over to check on a friend with no sexual ulterior motive?”

Gently, he set the lamp down at its right place on the side of his bed before turning back around to you and crossing his arms over his chest, “I don’t know, Y/N? Can she?”

You started to walk towards him, wanting to be closer to him for this conversation, but the sound of glass and ceramic crunching under your tennis shoes startled you. “Rafe….What did you do?”

“You act surprised. I thought this was exactly what you would come to expect from the Rafe Cameron?” The words seemed like it was a joke but his tone and the grimace on his face were anything but. His face was screwed up in such a way that it was impossible to tell which emotion was winning at the moment: hurt or anger. 

“Rafe…” You speak so soft and slow so you don’t spook him, carefully walking across this mess you both made, “I shouldn’t have said that. I know how good of a man you are. That guy that I heard about...he doesn’t live here anymore.”

He was clearly trying to struggle to not look at you, especially as you got closer. “Clearly,” He points to the shards all over the floor, “He does.”

Finally reaching him, you grab his arm and hold it tightly before gently resting a hand on his cheek, willing him to look at you. “You got rid of him once, we can get rid of him again. I-I should have never implied that you wouldn’t take care of me. I know you would-”

“I always have. Always. I always will,” His hand had come up to hold the one on your face as he whispered to you. The wall behind his eyes being torn down brick by brick. 

“I know, I know,” You weren’t sure when your resolve decided to break and when your brain gave your voice permission to break, but here you were: standing under his gaze about to fall to a million pieces. 

He noticed almost immediately and scooped you up in his arms, like he wasn’t the broken one standing in the evidence of his frustration. “Hey, hey, don’t cry. It’s ok. I just, I lost it for a second. I’m ok now...”

The way that he was so ready to console you in this moment is what broke you, to be honest. Trying to scrounge up whatever dignity you had left, you begged your voice to stop quivering as you sat down on the bed behind you, your head in your hands. “No, no it’s uh, it’s not this.”

He sat down beside you, looking at you nervously. Like you could fall apart before him at any moment, “What is it then?”

“Why did it matter to you that I left without saying goodbye?” You didn’t know what you were saying until you heard the words spilling out of your mouth almost on top of each other. And if the look on his face was any indication, he was just as surprised as you were. 

Running a hand through his hair he sighed and looked back down to the floor again, “Um, I’m not really sure, just curious I guess.”

Your heart sank. Of course. He was probably just trying to make conversation on the boat, you were the one that made more of it than it was. Like always. “Yeah, uh, for sure. That makes sense.”

The silence that followed was much too long and much too awkward to be between you and Rafe, your best friend. 

Then he finally spoke. “Is that ok? That I was wondering?”

You turn to him and you find a face so completely lost and worried it took you by surprise and made your heart twist in on itself, “What?” It was more a breath than a word.

“I um, I just didn’t know if it was ok for me to be asking about your whereabouts, I guess. I’m not really sure how these kinds of things work…”

You tried to swallow as your mouth went completely dry under the weight of his nervous gaze, “‘These kinds of things’?”

He cleared his throat before continuing. The energy in the room had gone from hostile, to remorseful, to anxious in a matter of minutes. “Yeah, uh, you know. Hooking up with your best friend. There’s no rule book….I don’t want to scare you off.”

Your cheeks warmed up despite yourself. It was nice to still hear him call you that after everything. “Well, even if there was, neither of us are very good at following those anyway,” you joked, trying to test the waters. He luckily returned an inward chuckle as he looked back down at his hands. Getting your sea legs, your voice dropped down to a confident whisper, “And yes, you can wonder about my whereabouts. You can wonder about anything you want. There’s no part of me that isn’t already open for you to take.”

His breath caught in his throat as he looked back at you one last time, “Then why did you leave?”

This wasn’t the response you were expecting, but it was the one that you needed. It was your chance to finally be honest. You could stick with your story and keep dancing in this limbo with him, one that will surely end up killing you both, or take the fucking leap and tell him the space where his shoulders turns into his neck is the single most beautiful stretch of land you had ever laid your eyes on. You were never one to be particularly brave but here, on his bed - the one place safe from the broken glass and hearts - you felt bold enough to hand him what you had hoped he would have taken on his own months ago.

“I just, I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep for so long, and the idea of waking up next to you in the daytime felt really… intimate. I was just afraid of you seeing me in that light, I think.” You tried to keep the confident whisper act up the whole time and were proud when you only faltered once or twice.

Rafe scoffed jokingly as he grabbed one of your hands again, “I’ve already seen you naked and screaming, you think a little daylight is gonna freak me out?”

The warmth in your cheeks started to spread all over as you broke eye contact out of embarrassment, a nervous laugh rising in your throat, “Well, that’s not exactly what I meant. But I guess you were right…it was stupid.”

“No I don’t think it was stupid...I think I get it.” His voice was a lot more serious in comparison to the playful taunting from seconds before. 

“Yeah?” This surprised you, because you weren’t even sure you got it. Not completely, anyway. 

Scooting closer to you, your hands still intertwined and resting on your thigh, he sighed as he looked down at them, “Yeah, I think so. I’m pretty scared anytime you look at me. I can only imagine how it’d feel first thing in the morning when I’m just getting used to being a person again...It’s very primal and vulnerable, I guess. When the sun is rising.”

Rafe really didn’t get enough credit for how smart he was. Because yes, besides the parts about his eyelashes resting against the tops of his cheeks as the sun peaked around his curtains, that was exactly it. It is very hard to keep your guard up when you’re barely remembering the parts you’re supposed to be hiding. But you didn’t say that. Your confidence was running thin at the realization that he could read your mind, so you said, “Yeah, something like that” and you both fell into a silence again. 

It took a full five minutes before he spoke again. “Are you going to leave without saying goodbye tonight?” 

“What makes you think you’re spending the night?” You joked, bumping his shoulder with your own.

“I, um, I just assumed...Sorry.” 

Another joke of yours had managed not to land, so instead of talking, you moved. Sighing and leaning over to kiss him on the cheek, you took off your shoes and socks and shimmied out of your pants, leaving you just in your t-shirt and underwear. You climbed under the blankets on your side of the bed and held your arms out for him to come lay with you. “I was only teasing. Of course I’m spending the night.”

The first smile of the night broke the tiniest bit across his face as he stood up and walked over to the light switch, the reminder of what had happened crunching beneath his shoes before coming back over to you and stripping down to an identical outfit. Normally after sex you would lay your head against his chest and listen to his body try to get back to normal beneath your touch, but tonight he laid his head on yours and you ran your fingers through his hair slowly so as not to spook him.

“Y/N?” He whispered just when you were about to doze off.

“Rafe?”

He paused as if thinking about what he really needed to say, “Are you... are you happy? Like this, here, with me?”

The question knocked the wind out of you. Because, of course you were. But it almost sounded like he wanted you to say no. “Rafe, I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t happy. You’re one of my best friends-”

“But are you happy like this? Pretending.”

“Are you pretending?” It was your turn to hope he would say no.

He moved off your chest and looked at you with the little light peering in from the moon outside, “A little.”

“About what?” You tried to sound neutrally curious, like you weren’t about to cry. You couldn’t take a rejection from him right now. Not now, not ever. 

“Y/N…” His attempts at telepathy were not working and his whispered plea was just making you more nervous.

“About what, Rafe? Just tell me. I can take it.” 

Another too long pause and then finally: “Are you happy...are you happy pretending like we’re not both holding back? Because, to be honest, I’m not sure I am.”

An anvil might as well have fallen directly on top of your breathing canal. You had absolutely no idea how to respond to the fact that you weren’t making him happy. The one person whose happiness consumed you, and you failed. 

“Um...well...I can just, I can just go,” you tried to get up and find your shoes just to feel yourself be pulled back to the bed. 

“No...Y/n...That’s not what I meant! I um, I like spending time with you. I like hooking up with you. That stuff does make me happy. Like, really happy.”

You honestly thought he was stroking out or teasing you for fun at this point, he was making absolutely no sense. “Ok? Rafe you’re not making any sense.”

He sighed, “I like those things and so much more but...Y/N….I’m tired of pretending like I don’t...Like I don’t-”

“Rafe, please-”

“Like I don’t love you.” 

Your head was instantly dizzy with the sound of those words off his tongue. You tried to respond but were cut off by his nervous rambling. 

“Not like. Love. I love you, Y/N. And this, the sex and the secrets, it’s great. It’s hot! But um, I’m kind of losing it here. I just hope every time that it means more to you than it seems like so this morning when you were gone, after I finally thought I had made some progress, it really sucked. I just want this to be something tangible so bad to prove that the guy everyone besides you knew really doesn’t live here anymore so I just kind of lost it because you clearly don’t feel the same way and I was just not prepared to be the only one pretending.”

At a loss, you just stared at him with your jaw hung loose and your eyes misty with the threat of sobs clawing at the back of your throat. 

“Please tell me I’m not the only one pretending,” It appeared as though he had already beat you to the tears as he weakly whispered his plea to you across the darkness, across the fear, across the insecurity. “Please.”

There were no words that seemed fit to tell Rafe Cameron that you loved him so much it seemed like you had used up all of the love in the world, draining the Earth of its natural supply, so you just kissed him. This kiss didn’t have a destination like your previous ones did and it wasn’t full of secrets like the other ones were. It was just a kiss in its purest form: a declaration of love and the promise of more. It was sweet and tinged with the salt water from both sets of pathetic, lovesick eyes. It was perfect. 

He pulled away with his hands still on your waist, both of you laying on your sides trying to memorize the other’s face in the moonlight. “You never answered my question.” He knew you had, just then in that kiss, but he had always been greedy.

“You were never the only one pretending. I think I have been pretending much longer than you could even know.”

“Impossible, because I’ve been pretending since the moment I saw you.”

“You’re a liar, Rafe Cameron.”

“And you’re beautiful, Y/F/N Y/L/N. Now say it back.”

“Say what back?” You quipped, deciding he needed to be teased back.

“That you’re crazy about me and completely in love with me.”

You laughed at his ridiculousness, “Is that what you said? Wow I remembered the last 10 minutes very differently than you.”

“Yes, it is, now say it,” He softened after a pause, “Please?”

You pulled him closer by the back of his neck and smiled against his lips, “I love you. Not like. Love.”

He hummed contently before pulling you in for another kiss, “It sounds so much better when you say it.”

You giggle as his lips collide with yours, “But it tastes so sweet when you do.”

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #obx #outer banks #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafemaybank wrote this

[themilky-way]

it’s been a long time {b.barnes}

gif credit: disastrouspan

pairing: bucky barnes x fem! reader

summary: he came home to find fragments of his past, leading him to confess his most prized emotion. based on this ask. 

warnings: bucky kissing because that’s hot as fuck lmao

author’s note: a small ficlet bc i miss the mf 40s (except i’d be in the kitchen 😔) and sergeant barnes

----------

from the moment bucky crossed the threshold of his home, his mind didn’t know in which direction to run. the dim lighting was provided by the small fairy lights adorning the corners of his ceiling, casting faint shadows across his beaming face. vintage images decorated every wall, and they had been so neatly placed, so politely organized that it caused chills to rise on his skin. his gaze lingered a while on the printed photos, and when he stepped closer to observe them individually, he noticed a few were of him. an antique poster from his war days brought flashbacks of a simpler decade (to him, at least) and he wondered where exactly you could’ve dug that out from. a scratched polaroid of him in his army uniform was next in line. the soldier was standing in between his pre-serum best friend, languid and all, and a pretty little lady. he recalled the memory: right before christmas, and enlisting back in the army, they’d gone to view a premiere. steve had begged him to stay a few more minutes, or hours if he could, but bucky barnes had been different back then. there was no way in hell he’d pass up an opportunity with a woman like that.

the recollection brought a smile to his lips, and when he refocused his vision to keep admiring your work, he came face to face with his mother’s record player. the device was spinning a solid black vinyl, playing a lovely tune from her favorite, ella fitzgerald. his mind was obscure enough now that he couldn’t remember which song it was, but he closed his eyes to absorb the melodies as best he could. bucky skimmed the stack of discs laying beside the machine with his fingertips, noticing a few albums belonged to steve. he chuckled at finding his beloved harry james record sitting there, and the idea that he’d even let you borrow it deepened his humor. 

when he was done snooping around your newfound collection, bucky’s feet led him further down his hall. if he was going to be truly honest with himself, he rather enjoyed your tiny hidden treasures. granted, to him they were huge in valor, so it was a neat surprise seeing them all gathered together. 

his last, but most certainly not least, halt was before his wooden coffee table. on its surface rested a framed photograph of you and him at one of tony’s gatherings, and by god did it make him lose his mind. scattered pieces of that night entered his brain, the only thing grounding him being the soft, tranquil jazz resonating from behind. a silky gown had once concealed bucky’s source of desire, and his artificial hand had at one point touched the small of your back, as the photo suggested. to the devil of a man, that had been the evening he’d realized this innocent, frail human-you-had enveloped his heart; and when his imaginative state cowered down again, he discovered one of his old dog tags, making him putty in your hands yet again. 

despite the gradual thinning of his cold veil, he reminisced every second of his life by touching his encrypted name and year: james buchanan barnes. 1925-

had time passed so quickly? was he still under the ice? all this-had it been a lucid dream of some sort? for a fraction of a second, bucky shifted into a different time, into a different reality. one where you didn’t even exist yet, where you’re parents weren’t even a part of still. only his profound knowledge of your love for him was real, and by seeing that throughout all this time he’d been deprived of you, he found he didn’t miss his past-any of it. 

“hell, bucky-you scared me.” a calming hand ran to lay over your panting chest. your eyes were gleaming in their most distinguishable form, the curve of your lips releasing a frantic laugh. 

yet, all the soldier did-or could do-was stand as rigid as a rock. every dictionary in the world didn’t hold enough terms that he could voice. his tongue was suddenly too big for his mouth, and his hands curled and opened in a hopeless attempt at touching you. within the furthest depths of bucky’s consciousness, he envisioned his calloused hands hoisting you up, just enough for your tippy toes to release from the ground, and pulling you in as close as friction let him. to hug you was all he wanted. to praise you were all his lips longed to do. standing before him, with an elegant gown from his era, all “dolled” up as his old self would phrase it, he couldn’t resist.

“do you need me to get you some wat-” a question cut off by his lips. it was feverish from the minute his mouth connected to yours, moving as if he’d never merely kissed anybody. he surely wasted no time in slipping his tongue in to scavenge for your own, and when he did, there was no escaping his power. conquered by his impulses, he sucked on it gently at first, but your sweet moan sprung deep from your throat, and there was nothing stopping him then. 

“i’m definitely not complaining or anything, but is everything alright?” the inquiry came with meager breaths. “do you have a fever?”

compared to his, a petite palm reached to cover his forehead in hopes of identifying a scalding heat, flipping it once or twice like you’d been taught.

“i love you,” bucky abruptly blurted. his emotions betrayed him, yet he wasn’t mad about it-not this time. 

“yeah, you totally have a fev-”

his real hand lifted to cover yours and bring it back down to hover above his slightly raw, pink lips. “no-i-god,” he paused. “i love you.”

baby blues threatened to spill when the back of your skin met his mouth. he kissed it as passionately as he’d done to you, and when you muttered it back, the hands on every clock in brooklyn stopped. 

“more than i adore you? oh honey, that’s simply not possible.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #1940s!bucky #sebastian stan #my writing!

[glasyasbutch]

Oh, do you want some angst this week? is that what you want? alright bud let's go!! 1, 3, 7, and 28 for whoever has the Most Interesting Answers!!

Thank you for sending this in!!! Under a read more both bc Prose Boy but also because the first question ended up becoming a short story with some themes of body horror in it so! look out!

1. What’s one experience your character had that made them very afraid?

I rolled amongst the characters I haven’t already discussed in depth later in this ask and got Roona. Lovely.

Being a person with near zero impulse control and a penchant for doing it just because someone said not to, I think at some point while barding alone on the road, she ended up in one of those small towns with a big secret that pop up in the thousands in D&D. 

One of those places where there’s a house on the outskirts of town with the windows all locked up and the front gate rusted shut, but it’s not dilapidated, and if you listen close enough there’s still voices drifting out through the cracks. And if you ask about it in the tavern, the room falls silent and no one’s gaze is meeting yours and after a tense few seconds the bartender slides you a too-full glass and tells you “You best be forgetting about that place, it won’t do you any good.”

And you want to know so badly what happened there and every answer you get is vague until the coin purse comes out, and then the hushed whispers come out too and you start to hear things about how the family that used to live there would collect all kinds of artifacts, and one day they imported something horribly cursed, and it’s probably still inside, it’s got to be, because no one’s ever been seen leaving with it, and anyone who goes to get it back walks away with blood-drained face and shut mouth. 

And so you try to sleep at night but you can’t, because you’re thinking about this fucked up house, and you’ve been to enough roadside tourist traps to know that the value’s in the show, and terror and wonder are almost the same emotion, and you’re pretty sure that this is just some long con publicity stunt that some recluse rich ass family is pulling, because rich people are fucking weird like that. And you’re not gonna call them on it, but you’d like to see for yourself, just to know if your hunch is right. 

So you sneak over there in the dark of night, and you hop the fence and press your eye to the shutters of the living room, and you curse your short legs that you don’t have the best of angles, but you’re still able to make out movement inside the place, and you can see the figures milling about in profile, but it’s hard to make out since the lights are off, which granted, is a little bit weird. 

But you squirm and shimmy and hoist yourself up by the window ledge and you’re still looking through the slats the whole time and you’re trying to see, you can almost get the right angle of your head and the moonlight to make out something of worth in the room, you just need to get a little bit higher and -

And you kick the side of the house and it reverberates much more than it has any right to, though that could just be the adrenaline pumping in your veins, but it really feels like the whole house has shaken, and the figures in the room all freeze in place, which is a bit worrying, but you don’t see them looking at you, which is almost a relief. 

But they are looking at you. The longer you sit and wait for them to go back to their business, the more you realize they’re waiting for you to leave. They can tell you’re here and you’re not supposed to be, so everything comes crashing to a halt, and they’re looking at you, so you know that you’re the disruption. 

But you didn’t realize until now that’s what they were doing, because they don’t have faces. It’s smooth skin, no sign even of eye sockets or cheek bones or nose bridges, just blank skin, like a mannequin come to life, but even with nothing there you can still feel them staring and you want to run away as fast as you can but you’re too scared too move. 

You become scared enough to move again once one of them begins to move towards the window that you’re at, and you hop the fence once more and high tail it back to the inn, hand on the hilt of your sword the whole while. And you slip back into your bed and wish you’d heeded the warnings to stay away, because even though you checked over your shoulder a thousand times to make sure they didn’t follow you, it still feels like the lack of eyes is staring right at you from the dark of every corner in your room. 

And you don’t sleep well again until you’re miles away from that town. 

3. Have they ever lost a loved one? What happened to them, and are they the same as before they lost them? 

These are d&d characters and I’m a tragedy slut so long answer short, yes, approximately half of my characters have key backstory moments revolving around the death/betrayal of a loved one.  Craving, Tov, Stella, Ezra are Supremely Emo, with Gildy and Nissy being lesser versions but still fitting the prompt.

Craving: Her entire life has been a series of deep losses that fundamentally changed the way she grew up. First person she lost was her mother, Kaissa, who died of a mysteriously incurable illness and whose public autopsy was revoked by the city for reasons no one could figure out. It broke her trust in authority, in public figures. The medical sector had refused to treat her mother and then hidden the evidence, it was as good as murder, and she figured every seat of government had as much blood on their hands.

The second to go was her father, Anvan, one of the first victims of a plague that devasted the tiefling population of their city far worse than any other race. He died before a vaccine was developed, but it wouldn’t have mattered any ways, because it was distributed in a horribly biased fashion by the producers which benefitted the human populous first. Not only did this break her trust in money, as a tool for growth and prosperity and caused her to see wealth as possessions as a tool for cruelty (which, you might ask, doesn’t she want wealth? doesn’t she steal impulsively? yes. she does it to be cruel right back at the world.) BUT it also was the moment at which she really lost her youth, because with the death of her father, she had to go into working full time.

The last to go was her brother, Sirris. He was stabbed and burned to death in a hate crime attack on their store. She went into the back room that day as a broken but loving woman, and crawled out of the ashes dragging her brother’s body behind her as a hell-bent, rage-blind servant of eye for an eye retribution. She was going to tear this world down from the inside, and she is still barely starting to learn that there are some things that don’t deserve to be crushed in the wreckage. 

Tov: He went to the Shadowfell to get some sorcery powers and when he walked back out he did a little attempted murder on his brother, who funnily enough Did Not Like It, and cast Tov out of his clan and his life, out of everything he’d ever known. Tov stood on the shores as his brother boarded the boat home alone and the second the ship was out of sight, he became a shell of a man that he’s still trying to fill back in.

Stella: Her entire community got burned to the ground and only a handful of survivors made it out, and she had to go from balance-oriented hippie kid to Literal Fucking Assassin to survive so uh. She got lost in a world where she had to become mean and cold and emotionless in order to stay living, and if she’s being honest, made it a lot easier to deal with the fact that Literally her Entire Life was irreparably gone. 

Ezra: His sister died on a quest for his God, after being promised saving by his God, and failing to be resurrected by clerics of his God. It made him stop believing in God. Like that one’s super duper straightforward.

Gildy: Not nearly as emo, but her spouse passing of old age and leaving her alone in the house made her finally realize that her life is. Hers. And that’s it. And kicked off her quest to do things that actually interest her and get into 3D art and forging and eventually a lifestyle of travel and adventure in the name of her art. She focused on herself for the first time in her life and maybe its just it being 1 am but I am a little bit soft about how that deep deep loss of a spouse was a catalyst for one of the most unabashedly happy times in this woman’s life because she finally didn’t have to care about pleasing anyone but herself! Nissy: He eloped with his girlfriend and then got dumped by her and he realized he kind of sucked shit on his own and decided to go adventuring to prove himself about it. At the time I played him he was fresh out of the breakup so he hadn’t changed much, but I feel like by the time he gets back home he will actually be much more sure of himself as a person who has value and worth and deserves a place at the table as he is, because that’s what being with Mavy had started to teach him, and after she left he was able to internalize it better bc there was no external source to pass it off onto. 

7. If your character was allowed to murder one person without any consequences, who would it be and why? 

Stella would kill Geran, the man who caught her assassinating and promised her a clean wipe of her criminal record in return for a year of SUPREMELY sketch and manipulative personal guard work. She knows she can’t do anything to him because if she fails he turns her in himself, and if she succeeds one of his lackeys does, but he’s also an absolute creep and a sleazeball and she hates his guts and the world would be better off without his freakness in it. Hey actually Rebekah this guy would make a great fourth character for Ludo. 

28. What is your character’s greatest strength?  Is it not the essence of a queer person’s D&D game that every character’s greatest strength boils down to a unfathomably deep love and devotion to whatever persons or tasks they deem worthy?

#roona #craving #tov #stella #gildy #ezra #nissy #asks

[icedcappujaeno]

“Date night?”

( a/n: okay remember that college student jaehyun and professor jaehyun? now we get an accountant jaehyun bc one anon sent me a message that jae also wanted to be an accountant.......we stan an ambitious man )

Although being his assistant is a very tedious job, his looks had to make up for it, that, you had to be honest.

Accountant!Jaehyun walked his way into his office, as usual. In his crisp Tom Ford black suit, along with a white inner button down with one button not done, he looks like an expensive five-course meal served in the finest restaurants along the universe.

He smiled at you, the deep indents of his cheeks appearing while you greet him “good morning”, the scent of his Jo Malone cologne tickling your scent when he neared your desk.

“I presume you had the papers for audit ready?” He questioned, and you could never prevent the reflex of biting your lower lip when you heard his baritone voice. God damn it, these pheromones.

It was beyond professionalism at this point. You knew how you lusted over your boss—and you knew how unhealthy that is in this kind of set-up, especially inside the office.

“Are you sick?” Jaehyun interrupted your train of thought, causing your teeth to completely sink down to your bottom lip which scathed. You hissed, hand moving towards your lip, and you could almost taste the metallic liquid.

“I’m fine sir,” you defensively said, a finger pressed on the scathed lip to prevent more bleeding.

“Is that so?” he chuckled, fishing his white hankerchief from his pants’ pockets before offering it to you. You took it, albeit hesitantly, and pressed it to your lip. The scent of his cologne whiffed your senses, admittedly, loving its odor and made your knees wobble...maybe even feeling a warmth between your inner thighs.

“Your face looked so red earlier, I thought you’re going to explode,” his voice was not laced with concern—it was mocking, you can tell. You had been with him for almost a year now and you knew the tone of his voice when he teases.

With this, you felt your cheeks get warmer than they actually are and is about to retort but he’s already turned his back to you.

“Bring the files to my office, ASAP.”

The bleeding of your lip stop, but your cheeks were still flushing from the scene just now. You held onto his hankerchief, clutching it between your fist as you probably will not forget the events earlier for another month.

What a great way to start the day.

“Come on, it’s Friday!” Your officemate whined, shaking your shoulder as you try to remain unbothered with her constant actions. “Let’s go out and drink!”

Along with the banters are the actions of taking shots to emphasize, but you weren’t having any of it.

“Yeah, almost everyone in the office is coming, well, except Mr. Park,” one of them snickered. “You know how her wife goes Godzilla when he comes home drunk.”

“As much as I want to join you guys,” you spun your chair to face them, and finally, your officemate let go of your shoulders. “Mr. Jung wants me to finish this file so he can work on it during the weekend.”

One of your officemates rolled her eyes to your direction. “Jeez, is the overtime worth it? Just come with us! You had your overtimes almost every day! It’s just this once!”

You just smiled sheepishly in response, turning back to your computer.

“Ugh,” the one who was shaking your shoulders earlier grunted, and you heard her stuffing her things inside her bag. “I bet you’re just working overtime for him because he’s hot as fuck. I mean if I had a boss like that I’d bang!”

Okay, you know they were joking—that was low, but hey, they weren’t wrong. But your pride and dignity won’t allow them to talk to you like that.

“Excuse me—“

The sound of the intercom halted your words and before you could even banter back to your officemates, they had already left, giggling their way out, sending you flying kisses of goodbye.

You turned back to your seat with rolling eyes and answered the intercom in two more rings.

“What took you long to answer?” Jaehyun asked, but surprisingly, in a calm manner.

“I went to the restroom sir,” you lied, but then telling him that you prioritize bantering with your friends first would obviously be a giveaway for him to give you a warning. “Is there anything you need?”

“I was going to ask if you’re hungry,” he replied.

“Oh, I’m okay, Mr. Jung,” you said, but the rumbling of your stomach was apparently loud enough for him to hear through the line, making him chuckle.

“Okay, maybe a little. Is there anything you want to eat, sir? I could get us some food.”

“Are you done with your work?” You noticed the shift of the tone of his voice. It was lower than the usual, an omen of bad comings to you.

You gulped and shook your head.

“Almost...?”

The last sound you heard from his line was his chuckle before hanging up. You could feel cold sweat forming on your temples when his doors slid open, revealing your boss — now with two buttons undone, and slightly ruffled hair on the side.

“Let’s get some dinner then.”

And that’s how you ended up sitting in a fancy Italian restaurant of his choice.

Upon looking at the menu, you were pretty sure the platter of risotto costs more than monthly water bill. You bit your lip and held the menu higher when the waiter came, a bright smile flashing before yours then to Jaehyun.

“Date night?”

Immediately, you lowered the menu to retort. “What—“

Jaehyun hummed which silenced you, pursing his lips which made him look like the bread meme—in a cuter fashion. The waiter chuckled while his hand gestured to question your orders.

You could only look at Jaehyun in despair. You hoped he could read your eyes—I’m broke, I can’t pay this, I’ll just order water—

“She’s a bit shy, sorry,” Jaehyun chortled, reading into you perfectly. The face you’re making at right now at him makes him want to put your head between his hands and pepper your adorable expressions with his kisses.

It was cute.

For a moment, his eyes trained at the page of your menu, and then he looked up to the waiter, ordering the Risotto platter and a King’s Cut platter for himself. The waiter nodded and left, and how you wanted to escape this nightmare and just eat ramen at home.

“Sir, I’ll just pay in installments through my salary,” you shyly muttered, though a little annoyed since it wasn’t your idea to be here in the first place.

Jaehyun hummed again, propping his elbows while his chin rested on the back of his palm. His eyes were mischevious and his lips were stretched into a smug smile, and even though you knew he was playing with you, it was an adorable sight to look at.

“I don’t do installments,” he grinned. “I only accept one-time, full-time payment.”

You sighed, biting your lower lip, internally saying goodbye to your internet connection back home so you can pay for this dinner. And maybe your phone plan?

On the other hand, Jaehyun wanted to laugh at how genuinely concered you are on paying for the food when obviously he’ll be responsible for it.

The food arrived not two silent minutes after.

It’s now or never, you thought as you dig into your million dollar food.

Okay, it was an exaggeration, but you get the point. No food must be left to waste!

When Jaehyun was about to open the door of his car for you, you took huge steps to prevent him from doing so. You cannot ask for another favor from your boss, so you hurriedly slid inside his car, sitting on the passenger seat.

Although flabbergasted, Jaehyun only shook his head, the smile from his lips never fading. He walked around and slid in his car as well, sitting on the driver’s seat.

You were sure minutes have passed and your boss hasn’t started the car’s engine yet.

“Is something wrong?” Your lips pursed as you looked at the bumper, your window side, finally meeting Jaehyun’s mischevious gaze to you.

“Everything’s perfect,” he replied, shifting his seat as he turned to face you. “I was just thinking of how you’ll pay that risotto.”

Eyes widening at his statement, you felt like a prey trapped in your predator’s lair. “I promise to pay it, sir! No worries!”

“When?”

“Soon!”

“But I want it now,” he said, almost in a whisper. His gaze was never leaving yours, although a little uncomfortable with it, your boss—your crush, staring at you with a sultry look on his eyes, how could you look away?

You felt his hand caress your cheek, and slowly he lean forward, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

Though it only lasted for a moment, it felt magical, at the same time, forbidden, but you absolutely loved how his lips felt upon yours.

“You think I never noticed the way you look at me in the office?” He whispered, and at the sound of his husky voice, you felt your cheeks rose warmer and heat between your inner thighs.

“Why don’t we stay at my place tonight baby?”

do we want a part 2

#nct jaehyun scenario #jaehyun drabble #neowritingsnet #jaehyun fic #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun #jung jaehyun #nct #nct imagines

[garbageshepherd]

What to do when someone is experiencing a psychotic break or episode

(From the perspective of a verifiable psycho)

This guide comes with the preface of:

If you dont have a psychotic person in your life (who is probably already telling you these things) you really. Dont need to insert yourself into most situations where someone is disconnected with reality. As such, im mainly focusing on crisises (in this context a crisis means someone does not have adequate/qualified support to work through a breakdown)

#1 Dont call the fucking police.

Police officers are not mental health specialists, they are regular people at best and paranoid sadists at worst who have guns and license to kill when they "feel threatened", who have had maybe a couple hours of psych training that relies on pseudoscience/bad psychology and fearmongering.

If you call the cops they WILL escalate, they WILL handle it badly, they PROBABLY will traumatize the person, they will LIKELY assume drug use, and an already vulnerable person might die

If you call the cops on a psychotic person and that person dies, idc how good your intentions were, it is (partially) your fault

(Just add a whole mess of exponents to that statement if the psychotic person in question is visibly queer or a person of color, especially a transfemme person or a Black man, but *any* mentally ill person is endangered by cops)

#2 CONSENT

consent doesnt magically disappear when someone is in crisis, and not all psychotic episodes = crisis.

Talk to them!!! They are still a human person!!! Theyre still "in there". Use the rest of this guide to communicate as effectively as you can. Ask before you do anything--before you involve anyone else, before you touch them (at ALL, even a hand on the shoulder needs consent), before you move them, etc. ESTABLISH if they are in crisis. ASK if they want help or attention. ASK if they feel unsafe. ASK ASK ASK.

Crisis is relative!!! For a lot of us, a different experience of "reality" is normal every day business that we live with. Do not assume someone is in crisis unless they tell you. Do not assume they are in pain unless they tell you. Ask if they want help but do not assume they even need intervention unless they consent to it.

#3 do NOT tell them its not real

When im curled up in the corner screaming and in pain, or even sitting catatonic on my bed bc I'm too paranoid to move, shaking me and telling me its not real isnt going to help.

I know its not real. A LOT of psychotic folx know its not real. That actually adds to the problem, because being told "its not real" isnt going to magically make my brain stop fucking making shit up, ok? If im somewhere else and saying shit that doesnt make sense, talking about people youve never heard of, gods angels faeires etc.: dont tell me its not real, ASK. QUESTIONS. A person who does not experience the same reality you do is still a person. Consent does not disappear. We are people whether or not you understand us.

What does that look like? I might be yelling about my friend mike. "Whos mike?" You should ask. Ill tell you that mike is a minor deity and a good friend of mine: you should imagine youre having a conversation with any other person talking about a friend of theirs. "Are they nice?" "How did you meet them?" "Where are they from?" Are all good. Its very context dependent. Listen. Communicate.

The sense of normalcy I am offered when someone asks placating and mundane questions about my celestial headmades does a LOT more to assuage my panic and fear when im in crisis than people telling me its not real amd that i need to "snap out of it"

Imagine a psychotic crisis is like barreling down the highway in a car. Trying to "snap" me "out of it" is dropping a concrete block in front of the vehicle to halt it: my body is going to keep going, smash through the windshield, and do a Lot more damage than say, cutting the engine and letting the car lose momentum on its own.

However, i might ask someone if something is real, if they can see something, etc. If this is the case, be honest, but dont be an asshole.

"No, I cant hear it" "no, i dont see anything jn thr sky" "no, that doesnt seem real to me".

Honest, nonjudgemental.

Its four in the morning so im gonna wrap this up, but I will leave by saying:

Someone having a crisis is as much your responsibility is as mutually agreed upon. If someone is having a psychotic episode and you insert yourself and they tell you to fuck off, even if that person gets hurt afterwards, it is not your responsibility.

Psychotic people are PEOPLE goddamnit which means we always have inate autonomy and our consent or lack therof must be obeyed. We are responsible for our actions. You are not a savior. Etc.

#oh god its four am #may be experiecing psychotic symptoms rn lmao #virgie is a psycho