#it might be a minute before i even start writing

[hellfiremunsonn]

Something About Her. Steve Harrington x Reader

Something About her.

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT

Summary: Steve is kind of obsessed with you, and you're kind of obsessed with him. Only ever watching from afar until a fight breaks out at the party you're both at.

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

Warnings: fem!reader, physical altercation, reader gets backhanded by homophobic male character, brief mention of blood, forehead gets slightly cut, reader has a vagina, sex but not sex? No penetrative sex, fingering, Steve is called a f***** and a queer in a derogatory sense by a homophobic character at the party. (I will star it out anyway just incase any of you are uncomfortable with that) (IF THERES ANYTHING I MISSED LET ME KNOW)

AN: Real quick, I don't condone using homophobic slurs towards anyone ever. This is not ME saying these things, it is a CHARACTER in the 80's saying those things. I myself am Queer so... ya know... I get it. NOT REALLY PROOF READ FOR MISTAKES JUST FOR THE VIBES (Huge thank you to my bby @rowanswriting for giving this a read through for me to make sure it wasn’t absolute garbage! love u <3)

Wordcount: 4k

Steve doesn't know when his fascination with you started, but he knows that once it did start he couldn't stop it. Anytime he was out at a party he was always looking for you. Subtly over the rim of his red cup, filled with whatever concoction that would get him buzzed the quickest. Personally he doesn't think it's stalking, because he doesn't follow you around any other time, but when he knows you're around, he's going to keep an eye out for you. Robin on the other hand, definitely thinks it's stalking and will make it a point to tease Steve about it whenever she can.

He's only talked to you a couple of times and the two of you wouldn't even consider each other friends but for some reason he always had to have an eye on you, and you always had an eye on him. 

Robin would constantly poke into his side and whispering about his "obsession" with you but he would just push her off and roll his eyes. Because someone as pretty as you would never look at him the same way. You were ethereal; Steve might actually believe it if you were from another world, considering he's had his fair share of experience of things that you'd think didn't exist.

He knows you watch him too. Praying you don't think it's weird for catching your eye one too many times, but being constantly enamoured by the way you move and speak, how you captivate everyone around you yet you're completely unaware of it. 

Robin decides that after watching the two of you eye fuck each other six more times that she's going to help. She skips over to you and you greet her with one of the brightest smiles he's ever seen.  The two of you talking together has four hands flying around with the dramatics of whatever story it is the pair of you have begun discussing and he's honestly surprised neither of you have hit one another in the face.

Steve still, stands with his back plastered against the wall, trying to ignore the dull thumping bass of whatever shitty music was playing, focusing hard on the way your lips moved, trying to get any sense at what you were saying. It takes him a minute to realize it's Robin you're talking to and he's more confused, zoning in on the way your tongue darts out to lick across your strawberry pink lips when he's interrupted from his thoughts by some beefy drunk, boy from high school trying to relive his glory days as he stumbles past him. 

He looks at Steve, looks at robin, and then back to Steve. He snickers "Damn Harrington, can't even get Robin to stick around with you? Maybe you are as queer as she is" he sways as he passes Robin and you. Robin freezes, before slowly looking back to Steve, praying tonight wasn't going to end with Steve beating someone up. Again. 

"Hey" Steves voice is loud, angry, startling almost everyone, despite how loud the music was. 

"Say what you want about me, but don't say shit about Robin alright?" Steve warns.

The drunken asshole makes his attempt to saunter up to Steve, getting far too close to his face before speaking "Or what pretty boy? Gunna get your boyfriend to come save you?" 

Steve can feel the hot air of his breath in his face, it reeks so badly of alcohol it almost smells like hand sanitizer. "Get lost man" Steve says shaking his head turning away from him, trying to distract himself from the prying eyes by above everyones heads, sipping his drink. 

What Steve doesn't notice is how ridged you've become and how hard your fists are shaking where they are clenched at your sides. 

He laughs, thinking he's won whatever show it is he's putting on for everyone and goes to leave before turning back to Steve. "F****t can't fight his own battles, what a pussy"

Before Steve can even fully turn around you've pushed past robin and are standing in front of the drunk, arm pulled back before your tiny fist makes contact with the dudes face. "What's your problem!" You yell.  Steve has never heard your voice so loud before. "You homophobic piece of shit? What decade were you born in saying shit like that?" Your hand hurts, like really bad, but you're too prideful to let him see you cry. No one is going to say shit like that about anyone around you, let alone Robin, or Steve. 

"Fucking bitch" he spits, blood filled saliva hitting the white tiled floor beneath your feet. His hand raises quick, and without a second thought he lands a single smack across your face with the back of his hand, and then walks away. You involuntary gasp at the impact, while the rest of the party goers shout and follow him but you can barely hear over the ringing in your ears, but you hope they beat the shit out of him outside. You feel a drip of blood form and start to slide down your face from where his large class ring made contact with the skin just above your eyebrow. Your hand trembles as it reaches up to touch the warm liquid before bringing your hand down to see your blood covered finger tips. 

When you look up, blurry faces stand around you, and they're all speaking at once, you're unsure where to look, or who to respond to when someone gently takes your hand, pulling you with them upstairs and away from the chaos below. Only when the click of the bathroom door locks do your senses start to come back and you realize you're standing in front of Steve Harrington and that tears had begun rolling down your cheeks.

At the same time you both blurt out "Are you okay?" and Steve laughs in amusement. 

"Am I okay? I'm not the one who sucker punched someone twice her size and is bleeding from her head!" he exclaims. He laughs again before muttering an "Oh shit" Grabbing at the nearest hand towel and running it under the faucet. "Come here, sit" he says patting the countertop. You watch him with wide doe eyes, pupils blown from the adrenaline coursing through you, but still you listen, slowly and a little robotically you lean against the counter, Steves large hand holding the side of your waist to help as you hop up onto the counter. He's talking, but you don't really hear him so instead you focus on watching him as he moves around the bathroom, finding things to help with the tiny wound on your forehead. 

He dabs the damp towel against your forehead quickly and abruptly. You wince and pull back, your two hands coming up to hold his wrist in place. 

"I'm sorry, shit, are you okay? I should have warned you first" 

"I'm sorry that guy said that" you say finally finding your voice, it's shaky and a little croaky but it's there. 

"Don't be, I've heard worse" he smiles and you let go of his wrist signalling to him that he can continue and so he does. "S'not so bad of a cut, just bled a lot cause it's on your head"

You laugh a little, and the relief Steve feels when he hears it skyrockets. "You've got quite the arm on you, more guys like him should be afraid of you"

You laugh again. "I've had some practice" you shrug and sniffle, pretending to play it cool. 

"Oh yeah? You beating up guys in the alleyways behind bars? Lemme see those guns" he pesters, lifting up the arm you used to throw your punch, and you flex it proudly. The muscle bulging and Steve gives it a squeeze. 

He wolf whistles. "Wow-ee that's some A plus muscle right there" he teases but short circuits when you look up at him. Mascara smudged just under your eyes from where the tears overflowed, cheeks rosy with a blush or from the adrenaline, he can't tell but his hand comes up to hold the side of your face anyway and he does everything he can to hold himself together when he feels you lean into his touch. 

"You're so pretty" he blurts, feeling the heat of your cheek under his palm when he says it. 

"So are you" you whisper. You can feel the trembling starting to begin in your bones as the adrenaline wears off, your body finally attempting to come down from the earlier altercation. Steve notices at the first twitch of your shoulder. 

"S-sorry" you stutter through your teeth as they begin to chatter along with the rest of your body. 

"Stop apologizing for things you can't control" he says taking your hands and placing them on the sides of his waist. He doesn't mean for it to be forceful or sexual when he does it, but his one hand comes between your legs and pushes them apart by your knees, positioning himself between them. "Here, hug me, it'll help with the shakes" He pulls you into him and you're thankful for the tightness of his arms around around you. You sigh into him, feeling the slightest bit of tension leave your shoulders. Steve notices and slides one hand to the back of your neck, pushing in just slightly at the base, massaging it until he feels your shoulders start to slump.

The groan that leaves you was almost pornographic, and Steve has to calm himself down immediately or you might be able to feel how much that little noise had affected him. Steve tried really hard, he did, but he's standing between your legs and you're so close to him that he knows if he shifted just a little you'd feel his dick press into your stomach. 

When the shaking starts to stop you lean back from him, head tilted up towards him but your eyes stay closed. Your hands still stationed on his hips, and Steve doesn't stop his fingers where they massage the base of your neck. 

"That feels really good" you sigh, eyes flitting open lazily. 

"Good" Steve says with a smile, his opposite hand coming up to push your hair back behind your ear. He watches as your eyebrows furrow slightly. 

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing" you lie. It's the adrenaline. It's like when you come down from a really big cry, and your body doesn't know what to do with all the feelings so it sends them between your legs, making everything in you ache for someone to touch you, for Steve to touch you. You shift on the counter, legs instinctively trying to close, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against the insides of your thighs, teasing you. 

Steve can feel your heartbeat pick up from where his fingers are still pressed against your skin, and he's watching you with curious eyes. He can sense it, he knows, but he wont make a move unless you initiate it, anything, even if it's subtle. But you have to be the one to start it. With one too many run in's with the end of the world, Steve knows that sometimes when the adrenaline wears off the only thing you want to do is fuck.

"Is it your head?" He asks "Does it hurt?"

"It's not my head" you say as you shake it. "It hurts a little b-but I'm okay, really"

Steve hums, his pressing touch moving from your neck and you have to stop yourself from whimpering at the loss. 

"Look at me" he says and you do, eyes darting back and forth between his. "I just wanna make sure you don't have a concussion" he widens his stance, sliding his feet outwards until he's just about your height from where you sit, his big warm hands come up and cup either sides of your face while he assess you.

A loud crash followed by laughter startles the two of you jump slightly. Your hands grip onto Steves waist harder and he's moved forward so now the two of you are pressed together, and he can see it in your face when his stubbornly hard dick makes contact with you.

"Steve?" you say quietly, and he's already preparing an apology in his head. "Um I know we don't really know each other" You swallow thickly. "But um" you trail off, glancing to your hands and where they rest, thumbs slipping past the hem of his shirt, touching the warm skin of his belly. He inhales sharply, and you look at him mesmerized. 

"Are you sure you're not concussed?" he questions "Or did that guy really hit me instead and I'm unconscious having a wonderful dream right now?"

You giggle and his cock strains in his jeans. 

"I don't wanna have sex with you though" you say quickly. "I mean now, right now, I definitely want to have sex with you, I just, not in a bathroom at a party? I wanted to- shit" You scrunch your eyes closed and take a breath before looking back at him. "I wanted to ask you on a date first"

"You wanted to ask me? Me on a date?" Steve says quietly. 

You nod, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. So shy, yet so brave.

'I'm fucked' He thinks. 'I'm going to fall in love with her'

"C-can, we um, can we touch each other? Is that okay?" your hands hold him a little tighter and his stomach tenses. 

"Y-yeah, please, can I kiss you?" he asks desperately and you nod, your hands finally reaching up to cup his face. He grabs you by the hips and slides you closer to the edge of the counter, your old converse hitched on the sides of his waist, pressed against his brown leather belt. Your crotch now pressed against his jean covered cock, and he realizes you've been wearing a dress the entire time he's been stood between your legs, and only now has caught a glance at the pretty pink panties you wear. 

You whimper when he kisses you. His lips soft and plump just like you had thought they would be, and the tiny groan he lets out goes straight to your cunt and your hips jump ever so slightly. You kiss each other feverishly, sloppy and quick. Every kiss, every smack of your lips, every move of his tongue has your stomach flipping and your hips rolling into him. He's grinding into you without a single care, he could cum like this and wouldn't dare be embarrassed about it when you look like that under him. How could he not. 

He does almost bust his load immediately when your hands go for his belt, quickly unbuckling it and tugging at the button and zipper until it's all the way down. He breaks the kiss to watch you do it. 

"Is this okay?" you ask, fingers dipped into the waistband of his boxers.

"You could do anything you want with me right now and I wouldn't care" He jokes. "So yes this is more than okay"

"Can you touch me too?" You ask with your baby Bambi eyes and god Steve nearly loses it. How can you ask him something so dirty but make it sound so sickly sweet. 

"God, yeah, of course I can sweet thing" he says sliding his hands up your thighs until he's under the hem of your red dress, it's covered in dainty little white flowers, and he thinks it looks perfect on you. He searches for the band of your panties before tugging at them until you shift, letting him slide them out from under you until they're dangling off your right ankle that is still stationed on his hip. 

His fingers slide easily through your slick and he groans. "Fucking christ"

You giggle again, sighing when he grazes your clit and your knees instinctively try to lock together.

"It's taking everything in me not to bury my face in your cunt right now Jesus Christ, look at her" he praises, watching his shiny fingers and the way they move against you, the way your hips twitch to meet them. 

"Her?" you ask.

"Your pussy babe" he says obviously.

Your entire body engulfs in heat, and you can't tell if you're embarrassed that he's talking about your pussy like it's a person, or if it's turning you on even more. 

"O-Oh my god" you say, your words slipping into a moan mixed with a gasp. Head tilting back until it hits the mirror behind you. 

"Jesus baby, let's keep your head intact alright?" he jokes, pulling you into him with one hand, placing it protectively on the back of your head as you bury your face into the crook of his neck while his finger traces your entrance. Your brain buzzes with electricity and you forget that just seconds before you were tugging at Steves jeans, but then he touched you. 

He circles your hole a few times, before easily sliding one of his fingers into you. You whine, open mouth, almost drooling where your mouth hovers against Steves skin. He leans back slightly, chin touching his chest to catch a glimpse at you to make sure the noise he heard come out of you wasn't a sob. But the thought of you crying because of his fingers? He can't imagine what it would be like to have you and your pussy crying on his cock.

"Feel good?" He teases. 

"So good" You moan, lifting your head from his neck, staring down to watch his finger curl into you. Forcing yourself to look away to continue your attention to his jeans. Hands shaky has they slip his belt through the loops, pulling at the button of his jeans and tugging the zipper down. You try your best to push his pants down enough to get your hand in so you can finally feel his cock but he's distracting. 

"F-fuck" you mewl, and it's high pitch and girly, and if you were alone you'd cringe at the sound. 

"Need some help?" Steve offers, stopping his movements and slowly removing his fingers from you, shiny and slick as he helps you to free his aching cock. 

"Thank you" you whisper. Once his cock is free you wrap your hand around him, thick, hot and heavy in your palm and he groans, tilting his head back a little before reaching a hand up to tap your cheek, ripping your gaze away from your hand to his eyes. 

"Open" hes looking down at you through his lashes, cheeks flushed a perfect pink and his chest moves quickly while you continue to jerk him off. You listen, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out and Steve huffs out a laugh as he slowly slides his two fingers into your mouth. The ones that were just buried in your cunt. You lap at them greedily, body buzzing from the approval when Steves hums in delight, head tiling to watch your mouth. 

You pull his fingers from your mouth with gasp. "I have an idea"

Steve raises a brow as you push forward until you slide off of the counter, turning around so your ass is how facing him, both of you looking at each other through the reflection of the mirror. Watching you as you lean your hips against the counter, pulling him towards you by his belt until he's almost touching you. Reaching behind you, you take his cock into your hand, stepping onto your tippy toes until its slid between your thighs, pressed against your leaking pussy. 

"Fucking without fucking" you say with a smile. Your hand presses lightly against him so the tip of his cock stays connected to you while Steve moves his hips. 

Sliding through your folds over and over as he mimics how he'd snap his hips against you if he were able to fuck you properly. It's probably the hottest things Steve has ever done with anyone, and he knows that he will think about this every single day until the day he dies, and he's absolutely content with that. 

His hands move to your hips, where he grips you tightly. Your dress sliding up with each thrust until the swell of your ass is exposed before him. Rippling with each thrust against his lower half, and he tries to stop himself, he does, but he can't. He lets his palm come down on your right cheek, a little harsh, and goes to apologize but the way your knees shake, and the moan that slips out from you tells him you liked it. 

"M'so c-close Steve" you force out. Your cheek is pressed against the cold marble top of the counter, and you're pretty sure you're drooling onto it but you couldn't care less with how good Steve is making you feel. "Steve I-" You can barely keep your legs up, but your trying. 

"Help" you whimper, and Steve knows what you need immediately. Wrapping a large arm around your waist, holding up most of your weight while still snapping his hips. 

"I got ya pretty girl" he mumbles into the skin of your shoulder. 

"Are you gunna cum Stevie?" You moan, silently begging he's as close as you are. 

"So close" he grunts. "Wanna see that face of yours when you cum, can you do that for me?" He asks sliding his hand into your hair until he's got a tight grip on the roots, tugging gently to instruct you to lift your head up. He doesn't want to be too rough with you just yet, not when you haven't properly been able to have that conversation. 

Lifting your head with his direction until you're forced to look at yourself and Steve in the mirror. He looks so pretty, face flushed, mouth slightly agape, his bottom lip slick with saliva. You could cry at how pretty he was. 

"Steve, Steve, st-eve, I'm gun-NAH!" you cum hard, all over your hand and his cock. Thighs trembling. 

"Fuck you're so hot" Steve mutters. "Gunna cum sweetheart where do-"

"On me, please I want it on me" You say almost frantically. Steve turns your around, helping you sit back up onto the counter so your legs are spread and he's stationed between them. Pumping his cock fast, the noise crude as it echos around the bathroom, slick with your arousal. 

"Fuck, fuck baby" Steve says through gritted teeth.

And you're smiling, and nodding, eyes glassed over and so fucked out, and he thinks he might marry you seeing the way you want him, and his cum so badly. He loses it when your hand joins his around him with those final few pumps, and his cum shoots across your stomach dripping down your connected hands to the base of his cock. 

He's panting and smiling, and trying to hold back a laugh, watching the way his cum drips down your body, down between the crease where your thigh meets hip, lazily flowing down to join the mess between your legs. 

You giggle, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you wait till Steve finally looks up at you. 

"You're insane" he laughs, grabbing your face with both hands and kisses you quick. 

"Only a little" you say between kisses. "Take me home?" you ask bravely. 

"Anywhere" Steve says quickly. he tugs his jeans back up, stuffing himself back into his pants, and adjusts his belt. You hop down from the counter and attempt to fix your hair so it looks a little better. Kicking one foot up behind you, you tug your panties off your ankle and turn to face Steve, shoving them into the front pocket of his jeans. Steve swoons at the sly look in your eyes, and the way you didn't even attempt to clean his cum off of you when the two of you turn to leave the quiet confines of the bathroom.

You giggle again when he interlocks his fingers with yours, letting him pull you along through the sea of people and out onto the front lawn down the street and only a few blocks away until you reached Steves house. 

"Yeah"  Steve thought. "I'm gunna marry her"

thanks for reading! <3

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[cameronspecial]

Hiii, love your writing 🩷

I was thinking about Single!Dad Rafe x reader. Like, how would they meet, how would his child react to reader and so on.

The Gymnastics Coach

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.2K

Masterlist

It smells like feet. That’s the only thing Rafe can focus on as he stands with only his socks on whilst his daughter patiently stands on his feet to wait. He holds her small hands in his and he wonders how he let Sarah convince him to sign Sloane up. Although, he knows it was quite easy for his sister to do because he would do anything for Sloane, except for maybe family gymnastics. Not only does the feet smell turn him off, but the stares from the older women are off-putting to him. Since Sloane was born, his playboy days are past him and he definitely isn’t going to start an affair. “Daddy, time for gymnastics?” the small blonde wonders, her big blue eyes blinking up at him. Rafe is glad there is no trace of his ex on his baby girl’s face. That woman doesn’t deserve any ownership of his girl. He checks his golden watch which is out of place to see there are still two minutes until they are called in. He smiles at her, “Almost, Little Warrior.” Her head flicks up and down and she goes back to looking forward. It was a mistake choosing the class that is during the work day. His tie causes him even more discomfort and he decides that he won’t be coming back. He’ll just sign her up for ballet instead or Sarah could take Sloane to the other classes. Rafe does prefer taking Sloane to her classes though because he wants to be there for his daughter.

Right at eleven o’clock, the door to his right opens and his breath is taken away by the beautiful woman who walks out of it. She may be wearing nothing special, her red work t-shirt and yoga pants, but she somehow makes it look like she is wearing a dress made for the red carpet. Her hair is thrown up in a messy bun with strands framing her face. All he wants to do is twirl those strands around his finger. “Welcome my little gymnasts and their parents! I am Y/N and I am so excited to lead you in Family Gymnastics,” a melodic voice greets and Rafe swears he has never heard anything so sweet. Hmm, so this is Sloane’s coach. He might have to keep her in the class after all. 

———

Y/N doesn’t know why she is so nervous. She is Sloane’s gymnastics coach, so she has met and interacted with the young girl before. However, this time is different because she is going to be talking to the girl as her boyfriend’s daughter. She takes a deep breath as she knocks on the large door. A soft giggle falls past her lips when she hears the loud swears coming from Rafe’s lips and can see his panic through the glass door. Sloane comes running to her father’s side with a wide grin on her face. He takes her hand in his and they both walk to open the front door. “Hey,” he salutes with a stressed smile on his face. Seeing the state that he is in causes Y/N’s nerves to completely disappear. The only thought she has is how to remove his distress. She steps through the doorway and gives him a peck, “Hi, what’s wrong?” Before the fellow adult can answer, a tiny tug on Y/N’s dress causes her to look down. Sloane looks up at her coach with big eyes and her arms are out, demanding to be acknowledged. 

The older woman smiles and picks the two-year-old up into her arms, “Hello, Sloane. How are you today, Pumpkin?”  The girl grins at the kiss placed on her cheek and wraps her arms around Y/N’s neck. “Good! Daddy and I are making dinner for his girlfriend, Coach Y/N. But Daddy isn’t doing a very good job,” she tattles, causing her father to grimace. Y/N chuckles at the revelation, “Is that so? Well, maybe I can help him with that.” She carries Sloane to where she assumes the kitchen is in because it is the direction Rafe came from with him following behind her. The sight in front of her truly is a show. The pot is overboiling and there is a slight burnt smell wafting through the air. This causes Rafe to begin cursing again as he runs to the oven to pull out charcoal disaster. He gives his girls a sheepish look, “This was supposed to be chicken parmesan.” Her heart flips at his attempt to make her favourite meal for dinner. “It’s okay. If you have the ingredients still, then I can help you this time,” she offers, placing the girl on the counter.

After an hour, the trio are able to whip up something edible and eat at the dining room table. “Daddy, where is your girlfriend?” Sloane questions. Pasta sauce is smeared across her face and Rafe knows he’ll be finding it in odd places during bathtime. Y/N takes it upon herself to answer, “Well, Pumpkin, I’m your daddy’s girlfriend.” Silence falls over them and this causes her breath to hitch. Sloane looks between her dad and her gymnastics coach, trying to process what was said. The tension is cut when a massive grin slashes across the toddler’s face and she throws herself into Y/N’s arms. “Yayy! I love you,” Sloane exclaims.

———

The approach of pitter patters causes Y/N to stir. She has been living at Tannyhill for two months now; however, she hasn’t gotten used to having so many people around her. Her eyes flick toward the window to see the moon is still out, so curiosity fills her. The footsteps finally reach her bedside and she feels the poke of a small finger. “Mommy, I had a nightmare,” the three-year-old whispers. Y/N will never tire of hearing Sloane’s new name for her. The mother turns over to see her daughter, “It’s okay, Pumpkin. You can sleep with me and Daddy.” She helps the girl into the bed and nestles the young one between her two parents. The both of them try to go to sleep, yet it doesn’t befall them. “I’m still scared, Mommy,” Sloane informs, cuddling into Y/N’s side. The adult sighs and looks at a bedside table to see a pen. This forms an idea in her mind. She checks to see if her boyfriend is sleeping and he still is. How he can sleep with their movements is beyond her. She reaches for a pen and turns them both toward Rafe’s bare back. He is facing away from them, so his back is a perfect canvas for the two of them. 

The two of them spent the night drawing on his back and giggling. Y/N had no idea how he didn’t wake up throughout the night. However, what the two of them didn’t know was that he had been awake the whole time. He stayed silent because he loved that the two people he loved the most in the world were bonding. So, when he woke up the next morning with new tattoos on his back, he pretended to be surprised and secretly grinned at the quiet laughter the two let out.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #dad!rafe #dad!rafe cameron #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe #rafe fic #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #outerbanks #outer banks fic #outer banks rafe #obx #obx fanfic #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obx fic

[georgescitadel]

George R.R. Martin on the process of creating A Game Of Thrones (1/3)

You hold in your hands the second volume of A Song of Ice and Fire… but not the second volume as originally intended. Although I wrote the opening of A Game of Thrones back in the summer of 1991, as related in my introduction to the Meisha Merlin edition of that volume, it was not until October of 1993 that I drew up a proposal for my agents to take to publishers. There is no mention of any book titled A Clash of Kings in that proposal. In 1993, I was under the impression that I was writing a trilogy.

Trilogies had been the dominant form in epic fantasy ever since J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings had been broken apart by publishers and released in three volumes. And the story that I wanted to tell divided quite naturally into three parts; much more so, in fact, than The Lord of the Rings, which is actually one fairly seamless narrative, and not a trilogy at all. I planned to title the books A Game of Thrones, A Dance with Dragons, and The Winds of Winter. I knew right from the start that they would all be large books. Huge books, even. But there were to be only three of them, and…and none were to be called A Clash of Kings. Sometimes the author is the last to know.

As I write this, I am halfway through the writing of A Feast for Crows, the fourth volume of my ‘trilogy.’ There is no mention of that title in my 1993 proposal either. These days, when pressed, I confidently assert that A Song of Ice and Fire will ultimately run to six books… but behind my back I know my lady Parris is smiling knowingly and holding up seven fingers. She may be right. Though I may dream of six books, plan for six books, work toward six books, the only thing that truly matters is the story. And the story needs to be as long as the story needs to be.

In Hollywood, the suits will tell you how long that is. A television show has to fit within its allotted time slot, of course, and you cannot beg, borrow, or steal an extra minute, no matter how much the story needs it. Running times are somewhat more flexible for films, though not as much as one might think. For the most part, the studios still want movies to run about two hours, so they look for screenplays of 120 pages or less, and demand cuts in any scripts that come in longer. My own screenplays and teleplays were almost always too long and too expensive in first draft, so in my later drafts, along with addressing the inevitable notes from studio, network, and producers, I was constantly trimming. In the end, I would deliver a shooting script that was the right length and under budget, but it was never a happy process… and I often went away feeling that the earlier drafts were the better ones.

The size of A Song of Ice and Fire was in no small part a reaction to ten years of trimming. I wanted to do something epic in scale, something at once grand and sprawling and complex and subtle, with a cast of thousands, huge battles, mighty castles, gorgeous costume, lavish feast, great rivers, towering mountains, vast fields… all the things I could not do in television. In short. I wanted to make a world. And for that you need a bit of room.

In my original proposal, I estimated that each volume of the trilogy might run as long as 800 pages in manuscript. The novels that I had written during the 70's and 80's, before Hollywood, had generally come in at 400 or 500 pages or thereabouts, so an 800 pages book seemed very lengthy indeed. The three books of the trilogy would be structured around the long, slow seasons of Westeros. A Game of Thrones would be summer’s book, A Dance with Dragons would take us through autumn, and The Winds of Winter… well, the title says it all. Even in the Seven Kingdoms, where a season can last for years, 800 pages ought to give me enough room to reach the end of summer and conclude the part of my tale, I reasoned.

‘Twas a lovely plan of battle… but no plan of battle ever survives contact with the enemy, it has been said. Writers know the truth of that as well as any general, though our wars are fought on blank white sheets of paper and empty computer screens. For the map is not the territory, the blueprint is not the house, the recipe is not the dinner… and the outline is never ever the book.

- George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings Limited Edition Introduction (2002)

#Ned Stark #Catelyn Stark #Sansa Stark #Arya Stark #Bran Stark #Jon Snow #Tyrion Lannister #Daenerys Targaryen #The Outline #A Game Of Thrones #George R.R. Martin #ValyrianScrolls #ASOIAF

[mrghostrat]

i’m not sure if someone already asked you this, but now that you posted flawless, you’ll finish atws? or you’ll start posting the editor au? so sorry if you answered this question before

yea i wanna focus on atws next because its been sitting there for too long. editor au is still in progress, much longer to go than flawless, and i might not even write it privately until i have the next chapter of atws done

but fuuuuck man, just to vent for a minute

i’m trying so hard and nothing is killing my motivation more than this fic. i can only ever write like 50 words at a time, and it’s pulling teeth for every letter. flow doesn’t exist. even after editing down this scene, or trying to skip past it and write the funner bits that come later. i think my inspiration is just dead for this world and it’s gonna take a playlist or multiple rereads or some other kind of external trigger to get me in the mood for it again.

i’m upset that i’m struggling with this world, but it’s also frustrating that of course it’s the one that’s everyone else’s favourite 🫠

i don’t think it’s demand avoidance because i’ve had so many days where i think about it and get myself amped up like yEAHH gonna write streamers today!! and then i open my doc, fully medicated and all, and everything dies on my fingers.

#ask a rat #ineffable streamers #vent

[astromaxi]

Hi!! I saw your post about being open to req's and was wondering if you could do a yandere jjk x reader one!

Snow leopard hybrid gojo would not leave my mind and i've been rotating a scenario in my head about reader smelling a bit too much of other men. But they aren't dating and gojo's is starting to go insane about it and so confronts reader bout it.

i mean you could do it without satoru being a hybrid, i don't really mind. i'm just craving for a yan gojo rn

I AM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE

HOLY SHIT- SCHOOL SUCKS

BUT I'M ALMOST DONE YAY

Warnings: slightly possessive Gojo, crappy writing, maybe full on possessive Gojo, Gojo having a scent kink thing, so mdi (?) 18+ (?), Gojo really loving your smell and but also calling you smelly (I’m scening a slight theme with my writing…)

As always lmk if I miss anything and this isn’t proof read so grammar mistakes 🫶

———-

Fem reader!

‘Jesus Christ I want to quit my job’ was all that was running through my head as I walked up the sets to my home, my feet crying out for relaxation after the horrible treatment of a 9-hour shift. All I want to do right now is to curl up in my bed and cry.

I open my front door, and at the same time, my phone starts to ring off. Huffing I close the door and set down my bag, I awkwardly shuffle through my pockets to see ‘Gojo’ lighting up my screen. An exaggerated sign escapes my lips as I answer the call. “Hello?” My horse voice spoke out, “I’m coming over! I see you off of work” a very happy Gojo responded to me, I looked down at my disgusting work clothes and the overall quality of how I felt, “Gojo- look, I don’t feel like hanging-“ “Great! I’ll be over in 5 minutes.” Was all I heard before the abrupt sound of the call being hanged up. I roughly made my way to my bathroom, if Gojo is coming over might as well look decent.

The thing with Gojo is, that he has been becoming increasingly clingy to me. Especially knowing days when I have work it’s almost as if there’s some sort of thing growing inside himself. I tend to brush him off whenever he buries his head into the crook of my neck, his long lengthy arms curled tightly around my stomach, or when he invites himself to stay the night but insists that I wear his clothes. I brush it off as Gojo being himself as he is usually very overly touching with everyone in his life- but sometimes- sometimes, it feels a little off.

I sighed as I heard my front door opening and closing I wrapped a large towel around my body. I run my fingers through my wet hair as I cringe at it being tangled up. I slip on an old hoodie and a pair of shorts, using the towel to dry my hair I set out of the bathroom and I’m immediately pushed against the wall nearby. My vision gets clouded by a mop of white hair and twitching light grey ears, as Gojo buries his head into the crook of my neck.

“Mm-Gojo!” I yelp in surprise as I place my hands on his solid chest trying to move him off of me

Keyword: trying

Gojo slips his hands down my arms, creating goosebumps in his wake as he grabs my hands with his own and places them around his midsection. His own hands find home on my hips as I feel an aggressive sign flow out of him. “M’ not Gojo, it’s ’Toru to you” his voice is horsed, and Gojo buries his head more into my neck- if that’s even physically possible. “You smell like other guys.” Gojo bluntly says,

I raise my eyebrows at him, my hands are mindlessly playing with his Snow White hair. “What do you mean ‘Toru?” I ask, the man-child before me lets out a groan. He raises his head from my neck and stares at me with his ocean-blue eyes. My heartbeat picks up as I feel my face heat up. Wordless Gojo tilts his head to the side, his eyes turn to something more obsessive. His pale hands travel up my body to cup my face, the air in my lungs gets stuck in there.

“You smell. Every day, every single day you always smell and it’s driving me insane.” He leans into me, our lips inches apart as his eyes dart down to my lips. “You should only smell like me, only be with me. I can give you so much baby.” His right-hand caresses the side of my face. I shake my head

“ ‘Toru you..” I let out a shaky sigh “You don’t want-“ “I know exactly what I want baby.” Gojo cuts me off, his breath growing more aggressive.

His lips move to the shell of my ear. “I want, no- need you baby. I need it so badly you don’t even know the depth of it” he whispers in my ear as he goes back to face me. “You need me to, I’ll prove it to you.” I nodded my head, allured to the words Gojo was feeding me, our lips connected as he immediately pressed the kiss. His arms cage me against this wall. My knees feel like they are going to give out.

“I’m going to show you just how much I need you baby.”

—————

A/n: this isn’t really that yandere, kinda forgot about that while writing this LMAO

#astromaxi #jujutsu kaisen #please please please #jjk satoru #jjk x reader #yandere jjk #jjk gojo #jjk asks #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #gojo x y/n #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo smut #gojo x you #hybrid #shitty writing #pls help #going to sleep now

[annaraebananawriter]

(Request) I Bet You Were the Best Brother

It's been a while since I posted a oneshot, so I hope this 5k one manages to make up for that.

As I've mentioned before, been going through a bit of a writer's block that is finally going away. Some it still lingers, but it is infinitely better. Feels like I can breathe again. So, everyone reading this that struggles with writer's block at the moment--know that it will go away. You will be able to write again. It's not a matter of if, only when. You will be able to write again.

Anyway, I don't have any other major life updates for you, so I guess I'll let you start reading now. Happy reading! Let me know what you thought!!

Fandom: Undertale/UTMV

Characters: Dream and Nightmare (Who belong to Joku)

Warnings: A character losing their memory and swearing and I think that’s it. Let me know!

Summary: Ilike_cringe (Fri 14 Oct 2022): "here is a request :>. Could you make it that nightmare might have hit dream tooo hard in a fight that (bear with me ) Dream lost his memory ( if you could could you add more spice \^o^/)"

Word Count: 5395

~oOo~

Nightmare wanted there to be a note that the fight started off normal.

His gang showed up, causing some ruckus. He hung out in the background observing, soaking in the new misery like a sponge, keeping an eye out for the tell-tale sign that the Star Sanses had shown up. In today’s case, that ended up being an arrow flying at one of his boys, which barely got dodged, the blue glow disappearing as it left eyesight. Grinning, he had taken it as his cue to join in, grabbing Dream by the ankles as he notched another one, and throwing him across the space.

Not too hard, of course. He didn’t want his brother out of commission quite yet. That was always the fun part about the fight, seeing him defeated. It needs to be drawn out a bit, though, for it to be really satisfying.

Dream recovered from the toss quickly, though he was soaked head to toe—he had unintentionally tossed him into the river. Whoops. The annoyed look on his brother’s face made his grin widen even more. They quickly fell into their routine after that, trading blows and insults, slowly moving away from the others. Another toss had them entering the woods, which resulted in a lot of fallen trees, a clear indicator of where they’d gone.

A cliff came into view, with Dream’s back to it. Nightmare didn’t take much note of it at the time, too preoccupied—his brother had just gotten a pretty bad hit to the back of his skull, making him stumble. Pausing for a minute, he gave him some time to get his bearings back before attacking again, pushing him closer to the cliff edge.

So…technically, this whole thing could be considered his fault, but how was he supposed to know what would happen?

The cliff seemed perfectly safe in the normal dangerous way!

This means the fight was going great until the cliff crumbled under Dream’s feet, making him shriek, eyes widening, his bow dispersing as he pinwheeled backward. Nightmare froze, staring at the now absent spot with eyes equally as wide, tentacles raised to strike.

Then it went silent.

 “…shit,” he hissed, automatically turning around in case his brother teleported at the last second to safety. It wouldn’t be the first time, so it shouldn’t be the last time.

No one was there.

He waited.

Still no one.

Maybe Dream was just in shock, still picking himself up. Turning back, Nightmare stepped closer to the cliff, small rocks tumbling after the larger ones from his movements. If he leaned over, he could probably tell…ah, no. Nope, that was just a bunch of trees. His brother was probably under those trees. Probably just picking himself up.

He’ll return in no time.

Nightmare just had to wait.

So, he did.

For one minute. Then two. Then…honestly, he lost track of the minutes after that, glancing back and forth around the clearing, looking over his shoulder at the cliff like Dream would just suddenly appear, having climbed up for some stupid reason. Any minute now, the fight will be back on, continuing as usual…any minute now…

…any minute…

…any—

Okay, so.

Something was wrong.

Turning back to the cliff, he glared at the edge. It was its fault this was happening. Why did it decide to crumble now? Particularly when Dream was on it? Why?

Now his brother was somewhere below, dazed as hell, without the clear thinking necessary to teleport, or injured badly enough to be unconscious—and as soon as that thought popped into existence, he shoved it away, then took time to quell the rising panic in his soul.

No, no, that’s not possible. Dream’s far more durable than that. Sure, it’s a cliff, and cliff’s cause damage, even to immortal beings, but still. His brother could heal, so shouldn’t that work on himself, make him more…invulnerable, or something? Unless…he couldn’t actually heal himself and he’s just been assuming that he could this entire time…no, that couldn’t be possible. Nightmare’s pretty sure he’d remember that if it were the case.

So…what happened?

Maybe…maybe Dream was just staying down there for a while.

He’ll probably join again in a bit.

Yeah, that’s probably it. So, he should really go back and help his boys. Hey, maybe Dream’s already there! Maybe he went to his friends instead. Makes sense, makes sense…

He should go help his boys now, he’s been standing here too long.

And…he wasn’t moving.

Why wasn’t he moving?

Dream’s fine. He’s back at the main fight. It’s something that’s happened before. It should be something that happened here. It’s fine. He can go back. So…what kept him here, staring around like his brother would magically appear, a tight feeling in his chest that threatened to steal the air away from his non-existent lungs?

Maybe…maybe he should just go down there, check on Dream—

That was another thought pushed away. No, hell no. If he gave in to that though, if he went down there to check, now, after too much time has already passed for that to be considered just moving the fight along, that’d be…that’s cause his brother to hope. Hope that things could go back to the way things were before the apples. He can’t go through the painstaking steps needed to crush that hope, put off the last stubborn spark that remained until he was sure it wouldn’t create another flame. Not again.

Besides, he didn’t even care. Not that much. Sure, yeah, he cared somewhat, always would—that’s just naturally part of being a brother. But the majority of how much he cared was in the past, before everything was plucked off a tree in the form of a black apple and devoured. That care no longer exists, taken over by the need to win all these fights, making the scales tip in his direction.

It just…didn’t exist. He didn’t care.

(Some days, it was harder to convince himself of this fact than others.

This was one of them.)

He didn’t care, so he should so rejoin his boys, and get out of this AU.

This time, he teleported.

It was an easy win. Dream never came back.

When it came time to go home, Nightmare couldn’t stop his gaze from wandering away from his boys, who were celebrating as usual, over to the trees. In the direction of the cliff, even if he couldn’t see it from here.

The tight feeling in his chest squeezed and squeezed. His tentacles flicked nervously behind him. For some reason, he kept thinking that now was the moment his brother would appear, now was the moment he could stop all this silly, stupid worry, go back to being angry. And the longer he looked, the more that thought wavered and shook, gathering speed as it transformed into a tornado that threatened to consume all of his other priorities until he made sure Dream was okay. But the only way to do that was to go and check, and leaving now would just make the boys confused and worried, which he could not handle right now.

Besides, he was sure it was fine.

He got them all home before he could convince himself otherwise, before the urge to make sure was too overpowering. To make sure he was really distracted, he holed himself up in his office, pulling out some paperwork—which wasn’t even real paperwork, just a bunch of sudoku and word searches and other puzzles printed out to make it look like he was working on important stuff.

For the most part, it worked. Kept his mind too busy to think about what happened.

Then he got to one particular word search that—and he is not joking or exaggerating this part—had three words at the bottom for him to find, all in a row, that read: ‘Dream’, ‘injury’, and ‘concussion’. Isn’t that just the strangest collection of words you’ve ever seen? The surreal coincidence of the words made Nightmare stare down at the page for a minute, completely gobsmacked. Who the hell was writing these word searches, and why the fuck did they include these three specific words on the same one?

It was like a sign or something…

Sneering, Nightmare tore the word search up into tiny pieces, sitting back in his chair, spinning around and around. Trying very hard not to think about the three words. And how his brother never came back. And how the yelp he let out when he fell just fell silent and how he never bothered to check and—

And now he was thinking about it.

“Fuck.”

Growling to himself, he stopped spinning in his chair. Then, he promptly stood and teleported back to the AU.

Leaning over the cliff again, he teleported down. His brother wasn’t anywhere in the immediate proximity—though, why would he be? This was all just a waste of time—so he started walking around, ducking under some tree branches. When he fell, Dream would’ve had to have landed somewhere around here…though he still wasn’t sure why he was searching.

His brother was probably gone by now. His friends probably came to collect him.

Why did he think he’d find him here, lying on the ground as if nothing happened? As if he just decided to take an impromptu nap, in the snow and in wet clothes and…

Oh. Oh, shit.

That was actually Dream lying there in front of him.

Fuck.

Almost tripping over himself, Nightmare hurried over, falling to his knees beside his brother. His hands hovered in the air around him, unsure what to do. “Dream?” he called, hoping to wake him up. Nothing happened.

Dream didn’t move.

For a soul-stopping moment, Nightmare actually thought he might be dead. Panic swirled in his chest, choking him, until he remembered that if they were dead, their body would turn to dust. Presumably, anyway, since they had no real way of knowing that until they…y’know…actually died, but still. The thought allowed him to gather himself enough to Check his brother, make sure of it. It said he was fine, if missing a chunk of health.

Nightmare breathed out, hating how shaky it was. “Idiot, making me worry for nothing…” he muttered to himself, looking down at his brother, frowning. Shaking his shoulder, he raised his voice a bit, eager to wake him up, make sure he left to wherever, hopefully back to his friends, and get home himself before his boys wondered where he went off to. “Dream. Wake up.”

No response. Dream was still. Breathing—he double-checked, just to be sure—but still.

Frowning, he shook him again, rougher. Still nothing.

Even unconscious, his brother insisted on being annoying. Scowling, he sat back on his heels. “If you don’t wake up, I’m going to kick you.”

Nothing.

Welp. His hand was forced.

Standing, Nightmare kicked Dream in the side—not too hard, of course, he’s not a complete monster. Just enough that he woke up.

Which he did.

Finally.

Nightmare rolled his eye to himself, crossing his arms as he watched his brother groan, coming to. A hand half-raised to his head before stopping, eyes blinking open and squinting against the light. His eyelights were paler than normal, just a hair bigger, too. He could see the exact moment they focused in, his brother clocking that there’s someone standing above him, but Dream didn’t panic, didn’t seem to be anything more than confused.

Dream blinked again. “Hi.”

Nightmare raised a brow bone. Seriously? That’s it? He fought the urge to roll his eye again. “What are you still doing here?”

His brother seemed to get more confused. “What?”

Wondering if the fall knocked loose some brain cells, Nightmare scowled. “What do you mean, ‘what’? You know what. What are you still doing here? This is, like, the most uncomfortable spot to have a nap.” Without waiting for him to answer, he continued, waving a hand around. He couldn’t let the opportunity to mock him go by. “And why didn’t you rejoin the fight? I thought you had a duty to protect the positivity in the multiverse.”

“Um…” Dream blinked for a third time, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. He laughed, nervously, like a reflex, and when he opened his eyes again, they were fuzzy again. “Sorry, you went a bit fast for me there. Could you repeat that?”

Ugh. Now he was just being difficult.

“You’re so annoying.” Nightmare said, stepping away. “Just get up and get out of here.”

Looking up at him, the words seemed to take a few minutes to sink in. Then, nodding, Dream tried to stand, movements jerky, as if he was figuring out how to move them for the first time again. When he stood, he wobbled, tilting over a bit before righting himself.

Nightmare realized he had stepped forward, ready to catch him should he fall, and retreated, tucking his hands back into his arms.

Damnit. He was slipping. He had to get out here, fast.

“I’m alright.” Dream said, clearly noticing his misstep. He was smiling. Nightmare had to look away before the sight made him feel warm inside. “Just a bit dizzy.”

“Whatever,” Nightmare said in return, leaving it at that.

Still smiling, his brother shifted on his feet, looking down at his hands and clenching them into fists a couple of times. His gaze wandered back up to him, and then away, looking around them with a curious, still confused, look. It was almost like he was trying to figure out where he was, as if he wasn’t just in a fight here earlier.

He couldn’t have forgotten that fast, could he? And what was he still doing here?

Shouldn’t he be opening a portal by now?

“What are you waiting for?”

Snapping back to look at him, Dream didn’t seem to understand the question. “Huh?”

Waving a hand again, tentacles flicking behind him, Nightmare’s scowl deepened. Why the fuck was he acting so weird? “Open a portal already and go home. Your friends are probably worried sick by now.”

(He ignored the voice in his head that said he was starting to get worried, too.)

“Right, right.” Dream nodded, trying and failing to look like he knew what he was talking about. “A portal…see, um, I would do that…but, uh…” Looking around again, shifting some more, his smile turned sheepish. “Well, I don’t remember, exactly, how to do that.”

Nightmare did not return the smile, unamused. He just stared.

What the fuck? What was he playing at? What was the point in drawing all this out? Nostalgia? What did he get out of acting so weird? What was going on here?

“Do you think this is a fucking game?” Nightmare asked, voice slipping off into a growl. His tentacles moved restlessly. He was getting agitated now. He just wanted to go home, get back to his puzzles, and maybe sleep for a week. But no, he was here, playing along with this stupidness, unable to get a grasp on what was happening.

Dream looked alarmed, holding his hands up and shaking them furiously. “No! No—”

“Then why the fuck are you wasting my time? I come out here, in the middle of the evening, to make sure you’re good, and you decide to, what, pull a joke on me?” Unable to curb his irritation, he shook his head, rubbing a hand down his face. “Stars, I hate you. I’m reminded now why I don’t bother doing this for you. You never take it seriously.” Turning he started to walk away, hearing Dream stutter excuses behind him.

He didn’t want to hear any excuses. He was done. He was going home.

“It’s not—I’m not joking,” Dream called after him, footsteps crunching on the snow as he chased after him.

“Of course, you are!” Nightmare sighed, in annoyance or anger or both of them combined. He didn’t care anymore. “You always are!” He didn’t bother stopping or turning around. Just continued on. And then he remembered he didn’t have to walk away at all, could just make a portal out. Turning his annoyance to himself, he raised a hand to do so—

“I don’t remember that.”

—and stopped.

The statement struck the right chord, making something inside him fall to the pit of his stomach, pricking him uncomfortably. Slowly, he turned to face Dream again, paying more attention. “…what?”

“I—I don’t remember that,” Dream said, tone so genuine, eyes so wide and confused and even scared that it seemed to create a physical attack on his soul. Raising a hand, his brother held it to his head. “I thought if I waited a bit, I might remember something, but I don’t. It’s all just…blank. I don’t know anything you’re talking about, like the fight or my friends. I place any faces to them or names or anything.” He let his hand fall, shaking his head as he turned his gaze down to his feet, speaking softly. “I just don’t remember.”

The words pushed Nightmare out of the present, sending him spiraling into the black hole opening in his ribs, right where his soul is. They pressed in on him, reverberating, turning into a high pitch that buzzed inside him, threatening to cut off his breath.

He didn’t want to believe the words. In fact, he was trying his absolute best not to. Excuses flew through, nitpicking through the explanation and finding words that betrayed the real truth. He told himself over and over that no matter what, no matter how injured he got, Dream would never allow this to happen. His brother would hold onto himself with an iron grip, too desperate to let go, and the Multiverse would allow him to hold on because it was just another being that favored him. They would not let their favorite Guardian lose his precious memories, not for all the stories it brought them.

No, it just wasn’t possible. He was lying—though the reason why was unclear, and nothing could really justify it, he had to be lying. It was a trick, a ploy, maybe even a trap. Yes, that’s it. Any minute now, the other Star Sanses would jump out, pull their weapons, and Dream would drop this façade and go back to pleading with him and when it didn’t work, when Nightmare lashed out in anger, he would pull out his bow and—and—

It just---it had to be a trick.

It had to.

It…

His eyes didn’t look like he was lying, though.

No matter how long he searched, how close he looked, it was a blank sheet of gold. He found confusion, yes, he found anxiety—nothing new there—but he did not find any recognition. Hope and helplessness, but no relief in having someone he knew find him. Even now, as his brother looked around the clearing, he only saw curiosity, as if he hadn’t seen this place before, as if he had just arrived, as if he had just woken up and was in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar faces. The eyes came back to his, smiled at him, and—

And they were still blank.

A ghost.

The black hole in his ribs widened, pulling him in faster. Digging his heels in, he resisted with everything he had, swimming back out. He had to confirm this, he told himself, had to make sure this was the truth. If there was any chance he did remember, whether that be his friends or his title or Night—

Well, Nightmare just had to find it. He had to.

He heard himself speak before he was fully back in his body. “Did you hit your skull?”

“Ah, maybe?” Dream tilted his head, reaching around to the base of it before retracting quickly, wincing. “Yes. Yeah, I did.”

“Turn around.”

Obedient, Dream did, and Nightmare stepped closer, observing the crack. It wasn’t as bad as he was expecting—certainly not as big—but it was still enough to make bile climb up the back of his throat. Swallowing it down, he darted his gaze around it, taking in the gaping black hole, about the size of a cherry, thinner cracks webbing out from around it. It had blood crusted on the edges, and he was sure that if he took the time to look around the cliff, he’d find matching spots.

Absently reaching out, he traced along the wound with his fingers. Stars, how he wished he knew how to heal. This would be so much easier.

Dream pulled away after his fingers made contact, and he let his hand fall as he turned back, already apologizing. “Sorry! Sorry, that just…really hurt.” He laughed again, but it petered out as he caught sight of Nightmare’s face. “Oh…that bad of a sight, huh?”

“You said…” Nightmare swallowed again, ignoring those words. “You said you don’t remember anything?” The feeling in the pit of his stomach clenched.

“No.” Oblivious, Dream shook his head. “The latest memory I have is of you standing over me. Before that…” Tilting his head again, his brother thought about it, ultimately coming up with nothing. No spark in his eyes. “Nothing.” He looked regretful, like he wished he could be of more help. “Sorry.”

There he went again, apologizing.

Nightmare was going to have to have a talk with him about that. He can’t keep saying sorry for things that he didn’t need to say sorry for in the first place.

First, however, was dealing with—this.

“So…” He didn’t want to ask the next question. It burned in his throat, made his tongue curl in preparation, the words too ugly to even think about. Why did it need to be said? He already knew the answer to it. Why did he insist on asking it when he knew what was going to be said? He would rather them stand like this forever than ask it.

That was a risk, though. And he would really like to get some sleep tonight—even if that might be impossible the longer this sank in. They should really wrap this up soon.

That meant asking uncomfortable questions.

Swallowing himself down, Nightmare let the question go. It couldn’t hurt to ask, anyway. “You don’t remember me?” The words lingered in the air, an odd hint of emotion to them, something fragile and vulnerable.

(He knew the answer to why he wanted to ask this.

Somehow, somewhere inside him, there was still a need that maybe something would be remembered. If the longer they talked, the greater the chance the memories would just snap back into place. That the hollow feeling of having someone you grew up with look at you like one would a stranger would disappear, replaced by joy or anger or tears, anything else.

Inside, if nothing else, he needed there to be a chance he’d be remembered.)

It felt like hope.

“No.” Dream answered, the shaking of his head feeling like salt poured into open wounds. He seemed disappointed in himself, upset he couldn’t help. For him, this was failing at giving someone what they wanted.

For Nightmare, this was confirmation.

(It felt like denial.)

(There was a stinging in his chest. Where did it come from?)

“Where you someone important?”

Nightmare automatically bristled. “I—” He stopped himself, glaring down at the ground while clenching his jaw.

His instinct was to say that, of course he was. He was Dream’s brother. They grew up together. They were, still are, two halves of the same coin, two halves to the same balance. Despite everything, that had to mean something.

But that wasn’t the truth, was it?

Not anymore.

Maybe one time, before The Incident, before the villagers came to them. It was just the two of them, after all. And Mother, but she couldn’t really say much, or do anything beyond existing. Maybe then they were each other’s most important person. And maybe it would’ve stayed that way had everything not gone to shit.

But the point was, that was in the past.

Whatever they had, it was gone. In more ways than one now…

Inhaling, Nightmare looked away, shoving his hands into his pockets. “That…depends on your definition of important.”

They had other people in their lives now. He had his gang, his boys. Though he often complained about their foolishness and called them idiots, not once had he ever wished he hadn’t met them. Dream, he knew, felt much the same about Ink and Blue. Neither of them would trade their friends for the world.

Even for each other.

“I was—” Nightmare sighed, rolling back his shoulders. “I’m your brother. Nightmare.” He forced himself to look back at Dream, even if the eye contact burned his soul with something uncomfortable. “Your name is Dream, by the way. In case you forgot that, too.”

“Cool!” Dream paused and gasped, beaming as he made the connection. “Our names match!”

“Yeah.” Nightmare said, forcing himself to smile back. “Yeah, they do.” Of course they did, he thought to himself. That’s the reason why they chose the names.

Brow furrowing, Dream tilted his head. “Wait, if we’re brothers, wouldn’t I just live with you, then?”

“What?” Nightmare felt himself frown in return. “Why do you think we’d live together?”

Strange, considering Dream didn’t even remember him.

(There was that stinging again.)

“I-I don’t know, I just…I have this feeling that brothers should be living together. That they need to live together. I don’t know why, but it’s a very strong feeling.” Dream raised a hand to his chest, hovering over where his soul would be. “When I think about you, um, that feeling gets all…strange.”

This caught his attention. “Strange?”

“Yeah.” Nodding slowly, Dream worked through it, finding what to call it. “I think it…I think it turns jealous, somehow.”

Nightmare stared.

Jealous…?

That couldn’t be right. Dream had to be reading it wrong.

There was nothing to be jealous about. His brother always had the perfect life. What more could he want?

If anything, he should be the one jealous. He’s the only one who deserves to be jealous. Jealous of the way people were always drawn to his brother over himself, the way people thought everything of the sun and nothing of the moon, even though they both shared the same light. It was his right to be envious, his right to look upon the past and view it with bitterness. It was his right to look at the present, now, when Dream still has his friends and his standing and still has everyone revolving around him.

At least he can find relief, find arrogance, in the fact that he found his own friends, his own group of people who looked up to him. It took years, it took work, but he found them.

He didn’t need Dream anymore.

(So, what if sometimes he looked at his brother and his friends and felt a longing to join them?

So, what if he found the way they laughed, the way they treated each other, a reminder that he’s done too many things to be treated like that again?

So, what if he’s tired of fighting all the time and wants to go back to how things were, while knowing that could never happen, while looking across the battlefield into golden eyes that reflected the same kind of feelings and—and…oh.

Oh.

Oh, they would never escape being peas in a pod, would they?)

“Hey, you mentioned my friends, though.” Dream said, brightening up again, looking around like they might just pop up. Not that he would recognize them. “Maybe we could find them and they could help me get home. What do you think of that?”

Maybe, Nightmare thought, looking away as well. He couldn’t lie, it would be nice to leave this place, and dump the responsibility of an amnesiac onto someone else. Especially the Guardians of the Multiverse, the coveted Star Sanses.

But something twisting in his stomach stopped him from agreeing.

He thought, all too suddenly, about how he came back hours later to his brother still lying in relatively the same spot he fell. Meaning Ink and Blue never came back to look for him after they retreated. You’d think, for monsters that claimed to be his best friends, they’d be out here the minute the battle was over, bringing Dream back home to be checked on.

Why should he trust his brother with those two, when they didn’t even search for him? They probably don’t even know he’s missing. They certainly don’t know he’s injured. He can’t help but wonder what their reactions would’ve been to this memory loss.

Too bad he won’t find out.

“I think they’re busy, actually.” Nightmare decided, making a split decision that he hoped wasn’t wrong. “And going to be busy for the week yet.”

 “Oh…”

Dream looked disappointed. Hurt.

The look on his face only solidified Nightmare’s decision. His tentacles curled in satisfaction. “You can come home with me, though. Stay for a bit.”

“Really?” Starting to brighten yet again, Dream seemed to hesitate, searching to make sure he was telling the truth.

“Yeah.”

“Awesome.” Dream’s smile lit up the forest, and Nightmare turned himself away before he found himself getting soft because of it. Raising a hand to open the portal, he heard Dream chuckle behind him. “I gotta say, even though I don’t remember it, I bet you were the best brother ever.”

The words were said so confidently, so…normally…it made Nightmare freeze. The portal wobbled in front of him, but stayed open, and he blinked at it a couple of times before he turned back to his brother.

His mouth was dry, for a reason he couldn’t yet understand.

“What?”

“Well, I mean…it’s like you said. You came all this way, in the middle of the night, to check on me. You were worried. And then, when you found me, you stayed to wake me up, even though you technically already completed your goal. You didn’t just leave. And you checked my injury without me asking you to, and told me my name, and now you’re offering to let me stay at your place.”

Dream’s smile turned smaller, more vulnerable. “It just seems like a very nice thing to do.”

Nightmare’s gaze was frozen, locked onto that genuine, soft smile. The last sentence played on a loop, ringing inside his skull.

A very nice thing to do.

In any other situation, the suggestion would be laughable.

But like this…

(There was that stinging. Again. Why won’t it just go away?)

He thought back to the fight that happened earlier. How he reveled in the pain he caused, how much fun he had taunting his brother. How often he attacked him, without worry or caution. How eager he was to throw him around into trees, back him up into a cliff. He hadn’t even thought about what might happen, too giddy, too smug. All he wanted to do was put him in his place…he hadn’t even cared that he was bleeding…hadn’t even reached out to try and save him when the cliff crumbled…

How long had Dream laid there, in the snow, still in wet clothes?

What did he think as he watched Nightmare watch him fall?

How can that be called nice?

How can what happened during The Incident be called nice? What kind of brother turned his twin into stone, and left him in a dead AU all alone, knowing full well that he would one day return? What kind of brother picked an apple he was supposed to protect in the first place? What kind of brother was he?

Certainly not the kind this Dream was talking about…

“Right.” Nightmare said, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. He understood why this time. He wanted to throw up. “Thanks.”

Dream didn’t notice anything wrong. Still smiling away. As always. Always. “No problem!” Rocking back on his heels, he started to look around as his attention span waned with no portal to go through.

Still, Nightmare did not move to open it.

Instead, he found himself changing tracks. Jumping train from thinking about how bad of a brother he was, to how good of a brother Dream was.

Is.

Was.

Stars, this was so confusing…

“You weren’t that bad of a brother yourself.” Nightmare said, and this time the words were better tasting. At least this way, something true would be said here.

Dream looked back at him, surprised, with a spark of confusion. Then, even if he didn’t know everything Nightmare was talking about, he smiled, taking it as the compliment it was. “Aw, thanks.”

Nodding, Nightmare finally managed to open the portal, letting Dream go through first. He hesitated to follow, looking around the AU again. For some reason, he felt like he would still find his brother, memories and all, waiting for him if he looked hard enough. But he wouldn’t. He knew that.

At least, he had to accept that.

That stinging again…

Showing it down once again, Nightmare turned and went home.

(It’s only after Dream is settled into one of the guest bedrooms—stocked with fresh bedsheets and a fresh pair of clothes for the next day borrowed from Nightmare’s own closet—and he’s back in the safety of his office that he lets his composure finally break. Choking, he slides down his door, hand clasped over his mouth to keep as quiet as possible.

It’s only then that he lets himself cry.

Cry about how he never reached out to catch his brother when he first fell.

Cry about what his brother thought before splitting his skull on a rock.

Cry about the stranger left in his brother’s body.

Cry about everything.)

#my writing #my fanfiction #fanfiction #oneshot #request #undertale #utmv #dreamtale #dream sans #nightmare sans #tw swearing #tw amnesia

[pet-slut-chrissy]

Mistress @owner-of-pet-slut-chrissy often has me do writeups about our playtimes because they might embarrass me, but today She wants me to write up a punishment so that everyone can see how good and compliant Her pet is..   it started out yesterday morning with a chat we were having before i was going out for coffee with friends, She was horny and telling me how She would have me dressed while doing chores for Her..  double dildo panties with the lush also in my pussy, the chastity belt locked over the panties, wearing my tack bra under my tight vinyl teddy, my highest heels, wrist cuffs with bells on them and a gag..  the lush would be on sound mode and She was thinking about how i would do while vacuuming! She was getting more and more turned on, then told me perhaps that should be my outfit for going out to coffee.. i started to panic as She was laughing, saying She would be generous and not make me wear the wrist cuffs or gag..   my mind was racing when She said i could choose two other items to remove.  i was trying to think but couldn’t, definitely the heels because of the weather but couldn’t decide what else, i was getting so flustered and couldn’t choose, She told me to hurry or it would just one item.  i guess i started overthinking and ruined the moment..  She finally said that She just wanted to see what my choices would have been, that She had another outfit chosen for coffee

i knew Mistress was a little disappointed with me, it was on my mind all day yesterday.  during the evening i ended up breaking a rule too .. not a major rule but still a rule.  i confessed to Mistress and i know She was disappointed in me for a second time in one day..   i had offered to do some corner time for the first disappointment which She accepted, and when i woke up this morning i found out what my punishment was to be for breaking the rule..  today i was to wear the complete outfit with all the accessories we had talked about yesterday, everything!  and i was to do at least 40 minutes of chores while dressed..

i wanted to do my best to make it up to Her..  it was so intense and it wasn’t long before i was whimpering, with every movement the bells on my collar and my wrist cuffs made noise and the lush responded, the painful feeling of the tack bra was constant, and both of the dildos were giving me a continuous fucking..  i don’t know how i did it but i did!  i took a lot of breaks as i did some dusting and putting things away, a little bit of vacuuming then mostly working quietly on paperwork..  i managed to make it to 53 minutes but it was so worth it when Mistress told me She was proud of me and called me a good girl.  thank You to Mistress for being my Owner, i will trust You and try not to overthink as much

a short update.  Mistress knew that i was left frustrated and horny, and just rewarded me with a playtime..  as She teased me with the pulsing wand and the lush we talked about what it would be like to go out in public wearing that full outfit, perhaps even adding the wand harness under a short skirt..  we both had 4 wonderful orgasms 

[pagetsgirl]

tutoring

contains smut!! mdni

warnings: smut, giving head, fucking your professor, office sex, shitty writing ngl

pairing: alex blake x f!reader (professor x student dynamic)

summary: Alex Blake's star student needs some tutoring, which turns rather spicy

a/n: dont be afraid to reach out to me if you have any prompt/drabble suggestions, but i’m not sure when i’ll get to them since im really busy with school

read on ao3 or below the cut

For the entire year you’ve been nothing but the most perfect student. You got full marks, was never late, always turned assignments in on time, and you were actually nice to anyone who sat around you in class.

So it came to you as a surprise, when in your second year, your linguistics professor, dr. Alex Blake, told you that you might need some tutoring, so you could get ahead of everyone else in class. You had her last year as well, and to say you had a crush on her was an mild understatement. So to spend more one-on-one time with her… it was an offer too good to say no to.

It quickly became your favourite part of the week. Every Friday evening at 6:50pm, just after your last class, walking towards her office so you’d be there 7:00pm, and then leave with pain in your heart at 8:30pm, while every bone in your body was shouting at you to chat with her for just a little longer. Your ears dying to hear her voice just one more time before going to bed, your eyes wanting to look at her once more, your hands wanting to roam over her body, discovering every curve and freckle on her delicate skin.

This Friday was no different. Almost speeding down the corridors so you could get to her office a little early, so that you two could catch up just a little more before starting the tutoring.

Arriving there at 6:55, which is a record, you knocked at her door, waiting for her approval of coming inside.

“It’s open!” Her slightly raspy voice sounded muffled from where you were standing. But even that could make your knees weak. The things she would whisper in almost the same tone, just a tat more sulkier, as her hands roamed over your body, her strap made hard thrusts into your-

“Are you coming inside or not?” A voice shook you out of your daydream, as Alex Blake stood there in her doorframe, looking down at you.

“Oh yeah, uhm of course,” You franticly speak out, putting your entire linguistics education to shame.

You followed her inside, your eyes focused on her ass, I mean her walls filled with interesting books you couldn’t wait to dive into (same goes for her ass, but that’s just a tat… inappropriate).

The rest of the lesson went smoothly, as you put your feelings on the side line, and fully focussed on the things she was explaining to you.

The last couple of minutes you get a little side tracked, now talking about your hobbies, as her hand brushed past hers as you were explaining how sharks can’t get cavities and some sharks can glow in the dark.

When it finally gets to the time where you should leave, she walks you to the door. As you turn your back towards her, you hear her say; “You think I didn’t notice you staring at my ass and boobs all semester?”

Your face turns a bright red, as you slowly turn around. “Fuck,” You mutter under your breath. She walks closer, and closer to you, her hands eventually landing on her hips.

She looked down at you, her eyes filled with something that almost looked like… lust?

“Professor,” You mutter out, your hands still awkwardly on your sides. “Tell me you don’t want this, baby,” She whispers, her hot breath brushing over your ear as she moves closer to you.

“Please, I want this,” You whisper out, your voice raspy from desperation.

“Good, then it’s Alex or mommy for you, pretty girl,”

Just as those words left her lips, she pushed them on yours, absolutely taking your breath away. It was soft, but she was also so dominating. It was everything you’ve ever dreamt of, and more. Way, and way more.

Alex pushed you backwards until she has you pinned to the door, her hands now roaming close to the bottom of your sweater. Your hands moving to tangle into her brown hair that was framing her face. “You sure you want to do this, baby?” The professor said as she pulled away.

You desperately nod your head, as your hands attempt to pull her face closer again.

“No, darling, I have to have vocal consent,” her hands played with the bottom of your shirt. “I- please, Alex, I need you so bad, please mommy,” The moment she heard that last word leave your lips, she pushed her lips to yours again, sliding her tongue into your mouth, exploring every single centimetre that she could reach. Her hands slipped into your sweater, discovering every curve until she reached your breasts.

Her lips travelled south, softly biting your neck. “Gosh, you’re so gorgeous for me, baby,” her voice radiated a warmth through you, that ended up all the way into your pussy.

She bit into your skin, making you let out a soft moan. “Please, mommy, I need more,” You pant out, your hands pushing her head down. “Shhh baby, I’ll get there, I promise,”

Her teasing didn’t seem to end, leaving a countless amount of hickeys and bite marks all over your neck.

Finally, after what seemed both hours and seconds, her hands grasped onto the sweater. “Can I take this off?” The brunette looked into your half closed eyes, her eyes filled with nothing but love and need. “Yeah, please,” the words came harder than you ever could’ve expected.

Finally, she took off your shirt. She stood there, allowing herself to take in this moment, cause who knows when the next time will be when she can see you like this (which will most likely be next Friday, if not sooner).

Your needy hands pulled onto the rim of her shirt. “Off,” you murmured. All Alex just did was grant you a smile and the little nod that allowed you to pull the shirt over her head. Your eyes scanned over her body, desperate to remember absolutely everything about her. Every freckle, curve and ‘imperfection’ that was scattered over her skin.

“You done staring, baby?”

“Mm, you’re really pretty,” you whisper, as your hands wander over her exposed skin.

“Oh, well thank you baby.” She kissed the tip of your nose, making you let out a small giggle. “I think you’re really pretty as well.”

Her hands slide towards your ass, “Take them off, please,” You practically beg.

“Your wish is my command,”

She quickly pulled down your trousers and underwear, throwing it somewhere on the floor. The linguist picked you up with ease and carried you to her desk, where she put you on.

The brunette immediately dove into your pussy, eating you eat like it was your last meal. Her tongue lapping up your juices.

It was just embarrassing as to how close you already were. Your thighs were shaking, you back arching and your hands pushing her head impossibly closer to where you needed her the most. “Mommy, I’m so close, please,” You moan out.

“Are you coming inside or not?” A voice shook you out of your daydream, as Alex Blake stood there in her doorframe, looking down at you.

#alex blake x reader #ao3 writer #fanfic #ao3 #criminal minds #smut #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #wlw post #wlw ns/fw #mdni #18+ mdni

[acid-ixx]

note: expanding on this post (please read it before reading this!) that i reblogged from @koinotame since it became a bit too long teehee <3 can't you see i love devoted little characters ? yeah, i do (only a little bit). i wrote this in like??? 20-30 minutes. tysm nana for introducing me for such a good idea. i might end up writing something about it.

they're made just for you, they knew from the start. so please don't wonder why they do everything for you— it's engraved in their very soul to be perfect— at least, perfect in your eyes.

it's worrying to be on an extreme level of obsession, they know that, but old habits die hard— and they're not even letting it die, no, they're kindling that flame of infatuation; making sure that your favor of them (albeit you not having a say using their body as your vessel) wouldn't fade away. even before you were transported into Teyvat, possessing the blonde's body as if it were yours, they would always be doing things to your preference. and the other characters wouldn't even know, even if you have placed them in your teapot, would they never know the pleasure of even knowing your favorite type of tree, or what type of minerals or ores you favor in mining, or your favorite dish that you just love to cook in-game.

and to have your thoughts directly blending in within the crevices of their mind? archons, they wouldn't ask for any better. your emotions are theirs to share, so whenever you feel repulsed by something, they eliminate whatever triggers an unpleasant reaction from you. you like the scent of a specific flower? whilst you're not possessing them, they would be busy collecting the blossoms in every corner of Teyvat. do you prefer a certain weapon type, with a specific color scheme, plush handles and lightweight/heavy material? you're in luck because the finest blacksmiths in store already have something skillfully crafted for you. sick and tired of rude npc's? let's just hope the system wouldn't glitch out once someone is permanently wiped from the world. they're yours to utilize, so whilst you're out, they're busy training their body to the extremes and only letting you (with your permission of course) come back once they've fully rested their vessel body.

it's scary thinking about it - for others, not them - just how much they molded themselves for your taste only. even the way you would talk seeps into their daily speech, making it slightly difficult for others to differentiate you two. ah, but that doesn't make you any less recognizable, though, since you're in every bit divine and they're merely there for your own pleasure. they're glad that they were your very first in everything related to Teyvat, that they have the power (and they're willing to grow stronger for you in every path they take) to protect you since, well, you technically share the same body. at the same time it's anxiety inducing, because throughout the course of their travels did they gain plenty of enemies— but don't worry, you wouldn't have to worry about the stench of blood, since that's the only time they'll take over the body without permission; just to protect you.

#🌷... yael's works #🍨... yael's talking #🌸 — yael's reposts #🧁... yael's misc. #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #self aware genshin #genshin self aware #yandere traveler #yandere aether #yandere lumine #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x gender neutral reader #wow i really wrote something long in the span of a few minutes #i really love talking to other authors and sharing ideas so !!! #just so u guys know im slowly getting back to genshin

[saras-almanac]

BuckTommyWeekend Day 2: A figure from their past

BuckTommyWeekend Day 2: A figure from their past

Title:  What we have

Fandom:  911 (ABC)

Pairing:  Buck/Tommy

Summary:  Buck had complicated feelings after they run into Abby. Luckily, Tommy is there to comfort him. For the prompt: A figure from their past for @bucktommyweek

Notes: I have a lot of thoughts about Abby and her relationship with Buck (plus just thoughts on her character in general). And this is a part of something much longer I’d written but it was just bits and pieces—the meeting, the aftermath, Tommy talking with Athena or Maddie, this scene—just too much going on and too much to write in a day when my brain was still coming up with the actual idea for this. So this is what I’ve got.  

Tommy hadn’t thought much of this meeting Abby at the time. Apparently she was in town for some meeting or other for one of her stepdaughters and him and Evan had happened to run into her as they were leaving the restaurant they had brunch at.

Evan had gotten a bit quiet but smiled and politely introduced him as “This is Tommy,” before Abby started telling him about her life. It was about three minutes of a quick catch up before Evan and him continued on their way out and honestly, Tommy hadn’t thought it was strange.

But now It’s been over a week since he’d last seen Evan and he was trying not to worry or get caught up in his own head about what this all might mean. He was off today, so maybe Tommy could convince him to meet up for lunch or at least just talk later today.

Thankfully the doorbell rang at that moment, pulling Tommy out of his potential spiral.

He opened the door and there stood Evan, holding two coffees and a bag of food.

“I brought coffee and burritos,” Evan said.

Tommy ushered him in and followed him to the kitchen. “It’s been a minute. But I’m happy to see you.”

“Me too.” Evan set everything on the counter, dropping his duffel on the floor, and then turned to him, basically wrapping himself around Tommy.

“Is everything all right?”” Tommy asked.

“Yes,” Evan said. “I mean, it’s getting there?”

“Would you want to tell me about what you’re thinking about?” Tommy asked, pulling away and gently pushing Evan toward the stool by his counter. “While you eat a little something.”

Evan sat down but made no move toward his food. He sighed. “I told you about Abby. My ex. The one we ran into a couple weeks ago.”

Tommy nodded. “Yeah. I mean, a little.”

“Right, well seeing her sort of threw me off—Not because I’m dating you or freaking out about my bisexuality and stuff,” Evan rushed to reassure him. “It just… I guess it just brought a lot of old feelings, things that trigged some old insecurities. And I wasn’t expecting it. I mean, it’s been years and looking back, it’s not even like we were really together together so I don’t know really what happened.”

“Feelings can be surprising,” Tommy said. “They come back around in the strangest ways sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Evan said. “But I don’t even think about her anymore. I don’t. I’m not like in love with her or want her back or anything--I swear.”

“I didn’t think you did, but thank you for the reassurance,” Tommy said. “Seeing people who used to play a big part in our lives brings up a lot of emotions. And that’s okay.”  

“That’s what Dr. Copeland said too,” Evan said shaking his head. “I called her because it just triggered a lot of feelings, feelings of insecurity that I thought I’d dealt with. But when you come face-to-face with your biggest failure those feelings can come back.”

“You and Abby not working out is not a failure,” Tommy said.

“I know that. Now,” Evan said. “But it’s what happened when I saw her again. It was my first relationship where I did everything right. I followed everyone’s advice, everyone’s ideas, followed Abby’s lead. I did everything I was supposed to. And she left anyway. Which, I don’t have to tell you made me panic and worry about you, about us.”

“Well, I’d argue that we haven’t’ done anything right in the way that other people would have it or do it,” Tommy said, nudging Evan with his shoulder. “But I also can’t’ say that we’ve done nothing right because a look where we are, what we have.”

“That’s what I realized,” Evan admitted. “At least part of it.”

“What’s the other part?” Tommy asked.

“So it’s like this,” Evan said, amping up and already starting to gesture with his hands. “I think I thought so highly of Abby for so long, right? She was this woman who was mature and knew what she wanted and had a whole life and still wanted me; it’s like she made me better or at least want to be a better man. And after she left, I was terrified that she’d taken that part of me with her, the mature Buck, the guy who was dependable and worthy.”

Tommy clenched his jaw because he hated hearing Evan talk about himself in terms of worthiness or usefulness. Granted, it was a bit of the pot calling the kettle black, but Tommy usually operated under a “do as I say, not as I do” policy.

“And seeing her again, seeing her with you just put so much into perspective for me,” Evan said. “I always thought of her as my first real relationship, but seeing her next to you, knowing what we have, how you treat me, it finally dawned on me that we didn’t have a relationship. Or we did, but like not the one I wanted, the one I thought we had.”

Tommy gently moved the coffees out of the way. “And what was that?”

“I thought we had this amazing relationship where we could be ourselves, someone I could share myself with and someone who wanted that too,” Evan said. “But I think I was just a physical presence for her during a hard time in her life. Someone who was there, who helped shoulder some of the weight, and then someone she just left behind because I didn’t matter to her. Not like I wanted to.”

Evan sighed. “And then I just saw her standing next to you and couldn’t help but think about all the things you know about me, the things you like about me, and I realized that she never really knew me at all.”

“It doesn’t sound like she did,” Tommy said gently, carefully. “Because if she had, I doubt she’d have been able to leave.”

“See and that,” Evan said, reaching over to grab Tommy’s hand. “You’d never do that to me. To anyone really. You’d never just take off, knowing you were done with me, without telling me. Yeah, it would crush me to lose you, but you’d still at least tell me. You wouldn’t leave me hanging on, waiting for any words of our future when you had no plans to come back.”

Evan squeezed his hand between both of his. “I just, I love you so much and I feel so lucky to have you in my life that sometimes I panic that I’m not quite good enough for you. And I want to be.”

Tommy reached out, cradling Evan’s cheek in his hand. “You are good enough. You’re more than good enough for me.”

“Even when I’m having a crisis and stupidly keep myself from you for 12 days?” Evan asked.

“Even then,” Tommy assured him, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead.

#i love supportive emotionally mature conversations so that's what we have here #might expand on this more in the future which is likely a thing i'm going to say for each of these since i'm writing them all this weekend #bucktommy #bucktommyweekend #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 fic #my fic

[rubiesintherough]

.

#(( ooc. )) #venting tw #negativity tw #...... husband came into the room and started a conversation with me. he talked for like five mins and then #when i got a couple minutes into a reply he cut me off #and said there were more important things he had to go do and didnt think the conversation would 'drag on this long' #..... i hate how often this happens. he brings up a topic. talks for multiple minutes at a time #and as soon as i start with a reply? welp suddenly he's done with that discussion and doesnt have time to hear me talk #🙄🙄 #anyway. in a not so great mood today even before this. so might not be replying to messages ooc much #bc i dont wanna pass on my bad mood to peeps. but will be trying to do some writing potentially

[sheliesshattered]

I’m just so tired

#things with my dad are getting significantly worse. with terminal brain cancer that's pretty much the only direction things can go #but his mental state is deteriorating quickly. multiple massive brain tumors will do that to you but now it's accelerating #I described it to one of my siblings that it's like Dad's mind is a big jigsaw puzzle and for a year now it's been clear that #the once-whole puzzle is breaking into pieces. for awhile the pieces were still pretty big and he could still carry on a conversation well #he might not remember it 15 minutes later but get him talking about an old memory or something he's an expert on and he could just go on #I've been calling him twice a week for months now. since Mom first suggested we work on writing a book together #in the month since we decided to give that up as a lost cause Dad has gotten noticeably worse. he's gone from losing his train of thought #to talking complete nonsense in a scrambled combination of old memories and things he once read about -- smaller and smaller puzzle pieces #and as things have taken a downward term I know from talking to Mom separately that Dad is also having a lot of trouble with basic self care #balance and bathing and eating and knowing where he is and all kinds of things. all of which is made worse by his memory problems #and by the fact that he outweighs my mom by a good 100lbs. so when he fell in the tub and couldn't get himself out she had to call for help #had to have a church friend who is more than a foot taller than her drive over to help maneuver my dad out of the bathtub #he's also getting obstinate and angry and saying that my mom and my nb sibling who lives with them are the ones with mental problems #all of which means I think they're going to need in-home healthcare ASAP. if not a round-the-clock facility. it's coming sooner or later #but Dad still hasn't officially retired so he's still on his own insurance which apparentlydoesn't have any coverage for that sort of thing #so Mom has to get him to file the paperwork to officially retire and then get him on her insurance. hopefully without a huge confrontation #and I feel like we're running out of time. that he's going to need that care before all the paperwork has time to clear once its started #I feel like we've been barely surviving horrific river rapids and now I'm the ONLY one pointing out that there's a massive waterfall coming #ignoring it won't make it go away or take longer to get here. it'll just hit us with even fewer preparations in place #I have enlisted the help of siblings so hopefully we can convince Mom of the importance of getting the paperwork started #but Mom is so mired in her own grief and busy with work (and she can't quit bc of the health insurance) and unable to get the help she needs #that it's tricky to bring up any of this sort of thing in a helpful way. and all the while Dad is getting worse #meanwhile I'm trying to deal with my own grief and manage my own chronic health situation. and still call Dad twice a week just to chat #and holy hell I'm just so TIRED

[torajira]

what's up subscribers it's like 3:30 so i'm gonna journal a little!

↓↓↓

#gnashes #things are slow and fast at the same time. let me explain: #my new job starts on october 17th (my mum's birthday actually) and this is. a big deal. #for one‚ it's my first job ever! secondly it's sn office job with like. good pay. like great pay in fact given i still live with my parents #and stuff‚ so absolutely COLOSSAL changes are coming... just‚ not yet! #the wait is the hard part‚ because that's when doubt manifests. what if i can't handle it‚ what if i have no free time anymore‚ blah blah #i've been doing my best to quell those feelings though‚ mostly by keeping myself distracted. #that's partly why i've fallen back into yakuza again in a manner that might suggest i have an anvil attached to my ankle! #(also last time i got into yakuza i couldn't properly because... nvm i cba explaining) #my computer is still having complications unfortunately. but the cpu+motherboard are still under warranty‚ so right now i'm just fighting #with amazon to get them replaced. so again it's just! a waiting game unfortunately! #my sleep schedule is completely DESTROYED at the minute. #i really need to get that in check before october #my main focus right now‚ project-wise‚ is the newport project. i've been reworking it again‚ rejigging arc 1 and 3 especially‚ but my main #goal at the moment is a new name actually! i never liked 'the newport project' anyway and it was always intended to be a working title‚ #not to mention‚ now that i'm doing a tnp rewrite (still doing that btw!) it's SO confusing having 2 ongoing projects with the same acronym #i keep clicking into my new prophecy folder instead of my newport project folder on gdrive and vice versa 🙄 #i'd really like to share more about it soon! #it's funny how much of it is fleshed out even though like 90% of the characters don't have designs yet. i guess thst just means i'm more #focused on the writing itself‚ which isn't exactly a bad thing. #but yes! i should. share some stuff #uh if you read this far i'm kissing your hands like you are nobility and i am a lowly peasant boy

[pepprs]

omg i was feeling better for like 2 hrs but then i saw a post on here that is like maybe the worst thing ive read all day. and now i am feeling despair again

#purrs #going to close this app and go watch minecraft build videos again bc that’s the only thing that distracts me rn. but it sucks. it sucks so #bad. how easy it is to be knocked down like this by a stupid post and how frightened and hopeless and small i feel. like wtf. and i know i s #said this but it’s like the mindset shift thing i rbed a few minutes ago right? like i am supposed to be the BEACON. i am supposed to have t #the hope and give it to people who don’t have it. but what do i do when /i/ don’t have it. that is antithetical to the entire enterprise. #and it does not bode well for our work working lol. like given what i know i should never ever doubt or fear or anything again. and the #sayings are literally brace yourself the world is broken and we’re braving the storm etc etc but right now all that’s going on in my head an #and heart are BROKEEEEEEEEEEEN!!!!!! STOOOOOOOOOOORM!!!!!!! HHEEEEEEEELLPPPPP!!!!!! and not like oh! brace. brave. ok yeah i can do that #and to be fair i don’t think anyone is feeling that way ever probably and that’s why you can’t be a beacon of hope if you haven’t known #hopelessness and don’t fight to overcome it every day. but right now knowing i need to be a beacon is only making me feel more hopeless. and #i know the beacon feeling bc ive been there before but idk if this will pass bc like uhmmmmmm… i live in the fucking death trap that is the #usa. but it might but also idk. i just am haunted by 2 things. number 1 that the most basic simplest thi ng s in life like starting a family #of my own and having a stable living situation might be out of my reach bc i was born at the wrong time. and number 2 that especially in the #last 2 years but also always there are such HORRORS happening and yet so many of them we don’t feel and it’s like out in nature the forest i #is still just the forest and it’s like for these birds and squirrels etc they don’t even know there’s a pandemic and nothing abt their lives #has changed in 2 yrs (that has substantially impacted their way / qualify of life anyway). and i know everything in my save tag refutes this #and also that if lia heard me saying this shit she’d say in effect why don’t you go write a poem and calm down. but part of me wants to feel #hopeless i think because there’s a security in feeling doomed bc to fight it takes strength and courage and is maybe scarier. but i am just #exhausted and grieving rn except the grief i am feeling is NOTHING compared to other griefs others feel and have felt. but yeah this is also #day 4 of living here again and maybe by day 14 or whatever i’ll be feeli ng stronger and more normal but the last few days have been so #fucking hard and so much about my life is different in ways that are hard right now. so i have to just deal with that and adjust and mayhe p #plunge myself into a piece of media like i have done w every other major transition in my life and somehow haven’t done w this one yet but t #that might just give me a break from my stupid broken brain and then i’ll come back and be normal. bc today i could barely get out of bed #delete later

[causticsunshine]

.

#thinking about finishing my 1d fics again and while with one super old wip i figured out how to write it sans heavy ot5 friendship dynamic #the two sequel fics for ‘swear i’ve known you since forever’ in ATSCO series…. oooh i fear i am Fucked #it’s not that i have beef with ot5 fic really it just feels weird for me personally to be writing it so #heavy handedly this many years on? and controversial take mayhaps but there are still plenty super involved ot5 fans out there putting out #mmm weird vibes? delusional even? not all of them ofc #but enough that i’ve seen especially on twitter and iii don’t want the association just bc i kept the dynamic in a fic i wrote lmao #(also i have some thoughts and opinions on things and people i did not have in the past too so! that doesn’t help) #i think for ATSCO i’m just gonna have to commit because i am Not rethinking a whole new plot for that series 4 years down the line #especially after i rewrote the whole plot like 5 times as well as the first fic in the series several more times as well….. #i’m not doing it again!! i’m not!! so if i DO finish either one of these fics specifically. please know if ot5 element stays in #moreso in ATSCO than the other one which has remained a secret 4 years on #know what i stand for and who i am… i know this matters to few but me but i’m putting it out there nonetheless #it’s still gonna be a hot minute before any fics get finished bc where my interests are rn and my focusing on art but! i stand by my word #and my fics are still intended to be completed! #(also sidenote i am. no longer replying to any update inquiries on here or ao3! i’ve already said why in the past that they #stress me out rather than encourage me so i’m gonna leave it at that! i honestly might even start to delete them from my inbox / comments #just because they get to me that bad like i literally avoid ao3 because of it so. yeah! pls don’t send me update inquiries <3) #alex talks

[keeps-ache]

mooooah than you could evah knowww all i want for chirstmaaahhessss, ieeeyissss youuuu0oou0oouo0ouyeaaaaAaa

#just me hi #[absolute gibberish for 4 consecutive minutes] #SPINNING #spinning SO FAST #or a relatively fast. it might depend lol .w. #//it's Saturday that's pretty cool !! #i like tuesdays more but saturdays are okay !! #//AH i'm teaching myself over the rainbow on the piany !! took me like 3ish days but i'm starting to smooth it out lol :3 :DDD #i keep getting D+F confused with F+A which has been. a Time hfbshf #and i get the sharps mixed up sometimes but that's okay because i'll get it eventually :D #//started rewriting p1nk space last night again because i do really love the story and i want to see how i could get myself to finish it lo #turns out it's easier to write if i'm reading too! that's interesting !! #//ooo i'm sneepy though hfvsh #i stayed up til 1 a.m. last night for some reason ?? i didn't even really do anything so ? #//also i think i forgot to say but apollo n i finished the 2nd twilight movie + i think i'll draw a thing for it before we watch the next #one lol #we had to take a break because he was fed UP with the squad's nonsense hbfshbafbvja #but he's been asking if we could finish it so :33 i gotta make my thing before i forget forever again lmao #//!! i have legos i just remembered #i have somehow amassed a decent amount so i'm going to add little things to my set. very neat!! #i have a pie and milk and some other things and stuffs i don't remember lol #//i am going to go now though! not cuz i'm gonna do anything but probably because i'm starting to lose focus here hsfbv #toodles ciao see you some time from now ! :>>