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samandcolbyownme · 6 months

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Summary: Anon request - “Heey, i hope u're good and i hope u're accepting requests. I'm in love with ur works and i was wondering if u could write a very smutty piece about Sam and the reader being best friends (she's living with snc, bc they've been best friends all their lives). Maybe lately both Sam and the reader start noticing each other a lot more than before, like y/n is studying one night and Sam comes back from his run, they have a late night snack and it's all blushy and cute. But the upcoming days there's a lot of sexual tension between them until Sam just decides to put an end to their friendship to become more. I hope it's ok ♥️”

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, unprotected sex, angst, hair pulling, choking, scratching, oral (f rec), fluff with filth

Word Count: 5.7k | Not Edited Yet

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

You sat on the couch, lap top on your lap as you typed up your paper for school. It was quiet since Sam and Colby went out to meet someone about a possible exploration, so you put your headphones on to drown out the silence.

You were too zoned out on getting this thing written that you completely missed the text Sam sent which stated that they would be home soon.

After ten more minutes of typing, you close your lap top and stand up, letting out a scream as they laugh, "Honey, we're home." Colby says with a laugh and you sigh, "I see that."

Sam smiles at you, and you hated when he did that, mainly because it made you fall more in love with him, and you couldn't do that.

You guys were best friends.

Emphasis on the friend's part. You knew them, pretty much your whole life, and even though they haven't ever really said it, you knew that it would even be weird to talk about it, or so you thought.

"How was the meeting thing?" You ask as they walk over towards you. Sam shrugs, "They're going to let us in, it's just a matter of finding out when exactly." He plops down onto the couch, "Get that paper done?"

You sit back down, opening your computer back up, "Almost. I need like two more paragraphs."

"What's it on again?" Colby asks turning your computer towards him, "Geoengineering technology? You are way too smart for your own good."

You laugh and you can see Sam staring at you lovingly but you don't want to get your hopes up, "Yeah, sometimes I wonder if that's why I get headaches, too much knowledge up here."

Colby laughs, "You know you don't have to go to school right? You can just fully commit to joining the xplr squad."

You roll your eyes, "We've been friends for how many years? I've been a part of that squad before it was even thought of."

Sam laughs as Colby nods while laughing, "You got me there. I'll give you that one." You smirk and look over at Sam, "Did you beat your time this morning? I wanted to ask but I had to leave before you got back."

Sam sighs, "yes and no. I did but not by much, so.."

"You'll get there. You have plenty of time." You smile at him and stand up, "I have an evening class tonight so I'll see you guys after five or so." You walk up to change, and right before you enter your room, Colby speaks, but it's not as quiet as he thinks, "You gotta tell her, bro."

You perk up, curious as to what they're talking about.

"There's no way. No, Colby. I can't just spring that on her." Sam argues back and his voice goes quiet, making it hard for you to hear.

You shake the thoughts out of your head and continue in to get dressed. You throw on a pair of jeans, sneakers, and one of the new hoodies from Sam's collection.

You grab your backpack and head back downstairs, "I'll see you guys later, do you want me to grab dinner on my way back?"

"Yeah, that'll be good." Colby looks at you and nods, "Get whatever, you know what we get." You smile and nod, "Okay."

Your eyes meet Sam's and he smiles at you. He loved seeing you in his own merch. You are his favorite model, but you didn't know that, for sure.

Sam's eyes stay on you as he watches you search for your keys,"by the microwave, y/n." You look over and lo and behold they're there, "Thank you!"

He yells out a quick, "Welcome!" as you leave the house. You make your way to your car, the thoughts running rabid through your mind,

He's got a girlfriend and he's going to ask me to move out because he knows I like him and it's weird.

You get in, sitting there for a moment before starting your car and driving to campus.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"It's not weird at all." Your friend Lacey says leaning back in her chair, "You've been friends for a while, and I always say the friendship stage is the most important thing before dating someone. And you my friend, have it perfect."

You sigh, "But the way they were talking I just... I feel like he's going to tell me he is talking to someone and he knows I like him and- Gahhhh." You groan quietly and take a deep breath as she leans over, "I've witnessed you and Sam together in a room full of people, and I can tell you that he doesn't look at anybody the way he looks at you."

"Really?" You ask, her words giving you a little bit of hope and she nods, "Really. And just a little f.y.i, best friends don't look at each other the way you and Sam do."

You smile slightly as you think about what she said, "I just don't know how to tell him, like.. my anxiety about the friendship ending gets the best of me because I don't want to lose him, and I know him and Colby are a package deal, so I'd lose them both and it just-"

"Take a breather. Why don't you talk to Colby about it? I'm sure he knows a lot of their end."

You shake your head, "I couldn't do that. I feel like Sam is the one I need to talk to or not at all.. I just.. I just have to get over myself."

As your professor starts talking, you keep thinking about everything, but little did you know, Sam and Colby weren't editing videos like you thought, they were having almost the same conversation you and Lacey were having.

Growing up, the adults would pick on you and Sam for claiming to be just friends, and for a while there, it was really true, but as you got older, the truth was covered up.

Each video you have done with them, the fans have pointed out things about you and Sam. Some would be simple comments, basically what Lacey said, about how you look at each other.

Then others would be making a big deal out of you picking to run to Sam after something scared you during the investigation. Most of the time it's because Sam is right there, you'd run to Colby too if you needed to, but who are you kidding, Sam is your safe place so of course you'll run to him first.

You never commented back to it, because that would just lead to more confusing things, so you just brush it off most of the time. You've never say anything to Sam about it because you know more than likely already seen them, and if he hasn't said anything, why should you?

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You pull your phone out as you walk to your car, texting the group chat, I'm just going to go somewhere close, I have to study for a stupid test tomorrow and I don't want to be up all night.

You toss your backpack into the passenger seat and get in, reading Colby's reply, that's fine

Sam replies after, whatever is easiest for you.

You set your phone down and start driving, going where you need to go before heading home.

You see someone walking towards your car which makes you kind of skeptical about getting out. You reach up to lock your doors until you see the big X on the front of it, letting out a sigh of relief.

You push open your door and lean your head out, "Don't scare me like that."

"Like what?" Sam asks as he pushes his hood down, giving you a smile. You get out and stand up, "Walking towards my car when it's almost dark out with your hood up."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I just threw it on, I figured you'd need help carrying stuff in." He takes your backpack from your hands and slings it over his shoulder, "Anything else?"

You shake your head, "No I can get the rest. Thank you."

He nods, smiling at you for a few seconds before cleaning his throat, "Colby is hungry so we should probably get back in there."

"Of course he is." You laugh, grabbing everything else before walking inside with Sam. You wanted to blurt it out on your way up to the house, but it was like you couldn't speak at all.

"Finally." Colby teases as you walk in through the door that Sam held open for you, "Thanks." You mumble quietly, going back to normal volume when talking to Colby, "There was a line, I'm sorry."

He laughs as he points to you, "Don't let it happened again."

You salute him, "Yes sir, Colby sir."

"Yeah that's right." He laughs, making you laugh and Sam smiles as he enjoys how comical you and Colby are.

After dinner, you find yourself on the floor of the living room with your books spread out across the rug, "I'm so screwed." You mumble to yourself, "I should know this."

"Have trouble there Einstein?" Sam asks as he walks over to the couch and sits down. You look up at him and nod, "This stupid surprise test, that actually isn't a stupid surprise because I knew about it, I just forgot.." you laugh slightly, "Will be the death of me."

"Just relax, don't overdo it. When was the last time you took a break?"

Him being so caring makes it harder, no one has ever cared about you the way Sam does, "dinner."

"Y/n that was two hours ago." Sam laughs slightly and sighs, "Take a break, go shower or something. Reset and come back."

You push yourself off of the floor and sit, "Maybe you're the one who's too smart for their own good." You stand up, stretching and Sam can't help but notice your shirt ride up your stomach a little bit.

He shakes his head as his voice is low, "If that was the case then.." he trails off as Colby comes down the steps, "you're having a party and didn't invite me?"

"Yeah, you can help me study. We'll call it a study buddy party." You laugh as Colby stands right back up after sitting down, "No thanks. I'm out."

You laugh and toss your pen down, "I'm going for a shower anyway. I need a break." You hike it up the stairs and when you look back, Sam looks away from you quickly.

You look away smiling and make your way to the bathroom.

After a while of being upstairs, finding things to do to avoid going backstairs to your books, you sit down on your bed and lay back.

You think about what you want to say to Sam, or more of what you need to say.

You decide you're going to talk to him. Right now. You get up, and walk down the steps to find Colby sitting alone on the couch.

"Where's Sam?" You look around as you walk over to Colby. He looks up at you, "Said he was going for a run."

You look at the clock, "it's almost ten pm?" You furrow your brows, Sam usually never goes on late night runs like this, "Is he okay?"

A smirk grows on Colby's face and you point, "No. no. Don't even."

He holds his hands up, "My lips are sealed." You roll your eyes and look at your books, hoping to change the subject, "Can you just help me study for a little bit?"

He sighs and sits up, "Fine."

An hour goes by and Colby went up to work on some editing, leaving you alone in the kitchen as you worked on making yourself a snack.

You whispered questions to yourself, answering them, then celebrating when you got the right answer.

You hear the door open and Sam walks in, freezing slightly as he wasn't expecting you to be up, "Oh, hey."

"Hey." You smile and turn back towards your book, "How was the run?"

He shuts the door, shrugging as he sets his phone and headphones on the counter, "Not what I expected really."

"You want to talk about it?" You go back to putting peanut butter on your banana slices and he walks over, looking over your shoulder as he reaches around and takes one, "i don't know how to talk about it."

You nod slowly, "I know that feeling."

He leans against the counter, "We've been friends for a while, y/n."

You glance over at him, a small smile resting on your lips, "Longer than a while, Sam." He chuckles and nods, "a lot longer than a while."

You set your knife down, licking your lips as you work your the courage to ask what you want to ask most.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" Sam asks, reading you like an open book, "You can always talk to me. Or Colby. You know we both care so much about-"

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

He's taken aback slightly, "What?" He laughs and shakes his head, "No, no. I don't." He looks up at you, crossing his arms, "What makes you think that I have a girlfriend?"

You turn towards him slightly, "When I went up to get ready before my class.. I heard Colby tell you that you have to tell her, and I didn't.." you trail off, sighing as you close your eyes, "Nevermind."

Sam stares at you for a few seconds, "Oh.." he chuckles, "That.. yeah no.. that was about a girl who I've been talking to.." he follows up quickly, "..but not in the way you think."

You nod, your heart sinking slightly, "Ah, I see."

"Yeah, I have to tell her that I'm not interested in her." Sam tilts his head towards you, "She hasn't gotten the hint yet, and I don't want to be douche about it."

"Yeah, no of course not." You smirk slightly, "You're only mean to me." He laughs, "Well yeah, but you know what they say.." He sighs and leans over, taking another banana slice, "if a boy picks on a girl?"

You try to fight a smile, but you fail so you look down, "I've heard that saying before."

"Then you can probably put two and two together." He smiles at you as you look up at him, "I'm going to bed, we have to meet someone in the morning about the exploration."

"Maybe don't be up so late."

"Could say the same to you." He winks and jogs up the steps, leaving you to ask yourself, does Sam like me back?

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Over the next few days, the energy between you and Sam was different.

You felt drawn to him.

And he felt drawn to you.

You looked at him with so much love, and lust. You needed Sam, now. It felt like you were aching for him, but after the kinda, yet not-so cryptic conversation you had with him the one night, you just weren't sure what was in store for you and Sam.

You've been flirty, almost feeling like you and Sam were closer. You would pass each other and his hand would land somewhere on your body, usually your lower back, and it would send a shock up your spine.

"Morning." You say walking down the steps, "How'd your investigation go?"

"Sam, why don't you show her the footage?" Colby says nudging Sam's arm. He takes a deep breath, "I don't think.."

"You're coming back with us tomorrow night. That's all I'm saying." Colby holds his hands up, shaking his head and you look at Sam, pointing to Colby, "What's he talking about?"

He licks his lips and sighs with a smirk, "Come on. I'll show you." You nod, following him back up the stairs, "Did it go good?"

You follow him into his room and sit on his bed as he sits in the chair infront of his computer, "It was a loving spirit, basically, so yeah, it went good."

You lean forward slightly, eyes on Sam as he clicks on things. A shy smile grows on his face, "I know you're not looking at the computer."

He slowly turns his head towards you and you keep your eyes on him, "So what if I wasn't?" He cocks his jaw to the right as he smirks, "Never said it was a bad thing." He nods towards the computer, "Come here."

You stand up, moving over to stand next to him. You press your hand on the desk and lean down slightly, watching as he presses play.

You can tell he's watching you, but he's waiting for your reaction.

"Can you repeat that for us please?" Sam asks on the video. After a few moments, you hear your name, clear as day and it wasn't from either one of the guys, "What the hell?"

You look at Sam and he holds his hand up, "Just wait."

You look back at the screen, "Something moved in that doorway." You lay your finger on the screen and Sam leans forward, "What? No way."

"Rewind it... yeah.. there stop." You glance at Sam and nod towards the screen, "Now watch." He presses play, eyes on the screen and he leans back, eyes wide, "How did we miss that?"

You laugh slightly, "I don't know."

He watches in shock, "Why don't you ever come with us anymore?"

You hoped this question wouldn't ever be asked.

"School, you know that Sam." You look at him quickly before reaching for the mouse to hit play, but he stops you, "That's the fake, I don't want to talk about it reason. Tell me the real reason."

You stand up, letting out a quiet sigh, "I just didn't want to get in the way." He tilts his head, "In the way of what?"

You shrug, unsure of what to say.

"Is it the comments? About us, and what people think we are?" Sam crosses his arms and looks up at you. You laugh nervously, giving him a nod, "I guess so."

He chews on his lip, "Uh huh." He smirks and leans forward, "Well they'll have a hay day with this." He clicks play and pulls you to sit on his thigh.

You lean forward, listening to Colby speak on the video, "What does y/n have to do with this?"

".. Sam .. it's time .."

You furrow your brows, continuing to listen to the video,

"Sam.. Sam.." you see Colby grab Sam's arm and Sam looks terrified, "Colby.."

"Sam.. she's a good spirit.. she's made it known she doesn't want to hurt anyone." Colby assures him, "you think she's telling you that you need to tell her?"

"Tell who what?" Sam shoots back and you look back at him. He's resting his chin on the palm of his hand and you look back at the screen.

"Y/n.. tell y/n that you like her more than you're letting on, man." Colby's voice is low, almost like they tried to keep it a secret but forgot the camera was rolling?

"Yeah, yeah. You're probably right, Colby.. I just.. how do they know that?" Sam is confused, "I just don't.. oh my god.."

"... together..."

"Should y/n and Sam be together?" Colby asks, "If you say yes, make that little light go off for us." Instant light and Sam pauses the video, "Lady Zeroni was known as a match maker back in her day but it turned deadly when a man who wasn't happy with the person she chose for him came back and went on a total murderous rampage throughout the entire house."

You lean back slightly, "So what you're saying is..." you laugh slightly and rest your hand on the top of his chair, "A ghostly matchmaker is saying we should.. what? Be together?"

Sam stares up at you, "The whole time, I kept thinking about you. Here alone. Like we don't know what we deal with sometimes and when your name is said, my immediate thought was you in danger and I just.."

You listen as he trails off, "When I asked about you having a girlfriend, I was scared you were going to ask me to move out because of how I feel about you."

"Wait.. how do you feel about me?" He tilts his head and tries not to smile and you laugh, putting your hand over his face, "Shut up."

He takes your hand off his face and holds it gently in yours, playing with the ring that's on your middle finger, "I'm scared as hell to want you.." his voice is quiet, "But here I am.." he looks up at you, "..wanting you anyway."

You look up at him quickly and your eyes meet his, "I know that feeling, too." He smirks slightly, letting out a breath of air, "We've been friends for a wh-" he stops himself, smiling as he corrects his words, "We've been friends for our whole lives basically, and I just.."

"Don't want to ruin the friendship?"

He nods, "Exactly."

You nod, "Since we're being honest.. I don't know when it happened, but all I know is that you're the first person I run to when I'm scared, happy, sad, anything." You tilt your head, "I mean, when we're doing a video, I run to Colby too, but mainly because he's close, but everything is just.. it's just very different with you."

"You look at me way different than you look at Colby, I know that for a fact. Actually, Colby was the one who brought it to my attention and I honestly tried pushing it off because I wasn't sure if it was too weird.. like we've known each other for so, so long and we've reached that max level of comfortability with each other... it's just.."

"It's a real amazing thing, Sam. Not many people, or should I say, many people would kill to have the type of relationship we have." You run your hand through his hair, and he closes his eyes, "Lacey told me that best friends don't look at each other the way we do."

His eyes flutter open and he smiles, "Colby told me the same thing."

"And I read the comments on our videos, and I just didn't want you guys to stop getting views or have your name being drug through the mud because we were being too touchy with each other."

He pulls you closer, "Your safety is my number one priority during those and if me keeping an arm around you while we're in some sketchy ass haunted house makes you feel secure, then I'm going to do it."

You smile, laying a hand on his chest, "I may have overthought a lot of it."

He nods, "Oh me too, one hundred percent."

He runs his bottom lip under his teeth, "I've been waiting years to do this." He slides his hand up, pulling you in so he can press his lips gently to yours.

Your hand moves to his cheek as you deepen the kiss and he pulls back, scanning over your face as a smile forms on his lips, "Now that I think about it, we'd make a great couple."

You tilt your head and scrunch up your nose, "You think so?" He pulls you in to kiss you, mumbling against your lips, "Know so."

You hum against his, "You know what else?"

"Hmm?" He tilts his head back to rest against his chair, looking up at you as he waits for you to tell him.

You stand up, his hands still on your hips, "We know everything but one thing about each other."

He raises an eyebrow, "Oh yeah? What's that?"

You slide your hands to his, "Come on." He stands up, following you over to his bed, instantly picking up what you're laying down for him, "Mm. Are you sure?"

You turn around, slipping off your sweatshirt, "You have no idea how long I've thought about getting you into bed, Golbach."

He chuckles as he slips his own shirt off, "I think I have an idea, y/l/n." His hands lay on your hips and he gently sits you down on the bed.

You lay back as his body moves over top of yours, his hips resting perfectly between your knees. It's like you were made for each other.

"Tell me what you want, babe." Sam's voice is low as he moves to kiss down your neck, "I'm all yours now."

You felt a wave of calmness wash over you before you take his hand and slide it to your throat, "Prove it."

He smirks with a slight hesitation before slowly tightening his grip, "As you wish." His lips crash into yours, kissing every once of skin he can as he makes his way down to the top of your sweats.

He bites your waist band, looking up at you as he lets them snap against your skin with a smirk following the release, "Can I take these off?"

"You don't have to ask." You go to sit up and take them off, but he presses a hand flat to your chest, "Let me, do it baby."

You bite your lip, nodding as you lay back down.

His hands slide up your clothed thighs, squeezing them before slipping his fingers between the band and your skin, "I want to take my time with this."

You needed him now, but you understood.

"Okay, baby." You whisper and smile down at him, lifting your hips as he tugs your sweats down. His lips part slightly, leaning little open kisses up your legs.

He moves back up, hovering over you he grinds against you, "You have no idea how many times I've thought about you.." he leans down and kisses you, "Thought about you."

You smile, "I relate."

He kisses down your neck, "When you came down wearing one of my hoodies, I wanted to make you so late for class."

"Would have been worth it."

He smiles and brushes hair from your face, "Fuck, why'd we wait so long?" You shrug, "Good things take time, Sam."

He smiles and looks from your lips to your eyes before leaning down to kiss you. He rolls over and you follow, straddling him as your lips reconnect with his. You grind down on him, low moans escaping the seal of your lips on one another.

"Please." You whimper out, "I need you."

Sam grips your neck, squeezing slowly, "Say it again."

Your lips form into a smile, and you whimper. "I need you."

He sits up, wrapping his arm around your back, "You're so fucking beautiful." His lips press to yours, moving slowly as he uses his arm to make your body move.

You wrap your arm around his neck and grind down, moaning his name quietly. He leans back, "lay down for me."

You move and lay on your back, watching as Sam strips the rest of his clothes off, "Take them off for me." He nods towards your panties that are still on your body and you comply by taking them off and kicking them off the bed.

"You know, I've also thought about being between those legs.." he gets on his knees, moving towards the middle of the bed by your feet, "multiple times actually.. I was so close to pulling you into the bathroom at that party we went to last week and getting on my knees for you.." his eyes move up your naked body with a smirk, "You looked so fucking good."

Your heart skips a beat, remembering that, even in your drunken state at the time, Sam wouldn't stop looking at you.

"You should have." You whisper watching as he kisses up your legs, alternating sides with each kiss, "I wouldn't have minded."

"Trust me, the next party we go to, I'll make it happen." He winks before dipping his head down and taking your clit between his lips. You let out a gasp, laying a hand on the back of his head, "Sam!"

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling slightly as you arch your back, "Oh god, yes." You moan as you grind your hips against his face, whining out how good it feels.

His tongue sinks into you and you pull his hair, causing him to groan against you. Your other hand searches for something else to grab for leverage.

His hand throws your leg over his shoulder and your heel instantly digs in to pull him closer, "Fuck, Sam. Sam. I'm so close."

His fingertips dig into your skin, pinning you down as his tongue works its magic inside of you.

Your eyes roll back and your back lifts up off the bed as he brings you to orgasm, "Shit shit shit." You moan out, "Fuck."

He pulls away, immediately coming up to kiss you. His cock rubs against your pussy and you reach down, rubbing it up and down your soaked slit a few times before he pushes his hips forward, his cock slipping inside of you for the very first time.

You both moan, clinging to each other in anyway you can.

He slowly pulls out and slowly slides back in, taking in the feeling of you, "Fuck, you feel so good."

"S-Sam.." you press your chest to his, "Fuck me. Please."

He smirks and tilts his head, watching your face twist with the best pleasure you've ever received, "Fuck, yes." Your nails dig and drag up his back, "I love you."

Sam leans up, stopping his thrusts as he looks at you. Your face goes shocked, "I-I don't know where that ca-"

"He smiles and leans down to kiss you, "I love you more than words can say."

"Then show me." You say quickly before you press your lips to his, "and you don't have to be gentle with me anymore, Sam."

He smirks and shakes his head, "You're fucking perfect." His lips crash into yours and he pushes his hips all the way into you, moaning lowly against you.

He slides a hand down your body and hooks his arm under your knee. He pulls it up and the new angle causes you to gasp, "Fuck."

He starts out thrusting slow, but quickly builds up to a faster, punishing pace. He tilts his head back, moaning before looking down at you.

He sits up slightly and reaches his hand down to cup your chin. His thumb slides across your bottom lip and you part them instantly.

He watches as you take his thumb between your lips, hallowing out your cheeks as you suck. He groans lowly, "I'm never going to get tired of you in this position."

You smile, teeth gently biting down on his thumb and he takes a sharp breath, "Oh yeah. Never getting tired of you in general."

He pulls his hand away and lays beside you. You automatically roll over, straddling him to ride him. You tilt your head back with a moan as his cock slides back inside of you.

His hands immediately grip your hips and help guide you up and down, "Fuck." His eyes are glued to his cock disappearing inside of you, "Doing so good, baby."

Your eyes light up at the praise and he raises his eyebrows, "Like a little praise do we?" He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, "You're full of surprises aren't you?"

"You have no idea, Mr. Golbach."

He sits up slightly, "But I will."

He bends his legs up and your hands press to his knees as you bounce up and down, "Gonna cum." You whimper out as you slide all the way down and roll your hips, cursing out as you cum.

Sam is in awe of you, his eyes are moving all over your face, your body, "That's it, baby. Good girl."

Your eyes snap open and you lean down, kissing him as you move your hips up and down, "Only for you."

"Say.. say it again." He drags his fingers up your leg, "Please."

"A good girl, but only for you."

He flips you so you're back to being on your back and he's on top, thrusting into you, "Fucking right."

You smile, moaning out as you wrap your legs around his waist, "Fuck, fuck yes."

"M'so close." He mumbles into your neck, "Fuck. You're so good to me."

His thrusts slow down and turn kinda sloppy as he gets ready to break the grasp of your legs locked around him.

He pulls out to cum on your stomach and you lay there breathing heavy. He lays beside you, kissing your shoulder for a few seconds before standing up to grab you something to wipe off with.

He comes back, hanging you a towel with a smile. You take it from him and smirk, "What?"

"You're my girlfriend." He smiles and bites his lip, quietly celebrating. You tilt your head, "And you're my boyfriend." You smile at him and wipe up, tossing the towel on the floor before being met with a Sam laying his body over yours, "Should we go break the news to Colby?"

You sigh, "I can picture his celebration dance already."

Sam peppers kisses all over your face, getting you to laugh, "You're so cheesy." You turn your head, pecking his lips, "One of my favorite things about you."

He smiles and tucks your hair behind your ear, “You.. are my favorite thing about me.”

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

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sophiamcdougall · 2 years

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Oh my God. Where do I -- how do I -- OK, @pensierosatanista, I'm going to try. @becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys is sure to do a better job than I can, but I'll try. So you know how Boris Johnson has a habit of just blatantly, brazenly lying, right? Like "there were no parties in Downing Street during lockdown." "I am shocked and appalled to find out that there were parties in Downing Street during lockdown! I had no idea whatsoever this was going on." "I am shocked and appalled to find out I was at all of the parties..."

So all his ministers put up with that, loyally spouted the line that there's nothing to see here and no one did anything wrong and even if there were teensy, insignificant breaches of the so called "law" who even cares? So it's not surprising that Johnson concluded he could just carry on lying (and degrading any lingering standards in public life) indefinitely. So recently the Conservatives dramatically lost a couple of by-elections, BOTH of which happened because the sitting Conservative MP was forced to quit after he did something gross and sexual. One was caught watching porn in Parliament, the other, much worse, was convicted of assaulting a teenage boy. So a few days ago it came out that one of the Whips had got drunk and groped a couple of men. Rather unusually, the culprit promptly resigned from his role as Whip, although not as MP. It's grim to say it, but in itself, this probably wouldn't be such a big deal. The problem was that 1) Johnson didn't immediately sack him as an MP 2) the guy had done it before. H'd been formally investigated and everything. Johnson, on cue: I had no idea he'd done it before!! Various MPs: OK, wait. Yes, you fucking did. It was reported to you. I was there. You made jokes about it. You hired him anyway. Johnson: OK, maybe. I mean, yes. I forgot. Who can keep track of all the sexual assaults their subordinates have committed, amirite? Various other MPs, live on TV: The Prime Minister had no idea it happened befo-- oh. Oh, he now admits he had, you say? Huh. Well. I look kind of stupid now. And it wasn't the first time versions of that, (MPs going out to defend Johnson only to find that whatever line they were pushing had collapsed before the interview was over) had happened either. So yesterday, the Chancellor Rishi Sunak and the Health Secretary Sajid Javid both resigned, saying they just couldn't take the lies and toxicity and, y'know, the small matter of the culture of drunken sexual harassment, any more. Now it may be true that they really can't stand serving under Johnson because who could? But mainly what they mean is "I'd like a shot at being Prime Minister and if I don't get out now, I'm going to be associated with all this shit forever and that is bad for my personal brand." Historically, just one major minister resigning saying "I can't serve under this Prime Minister" has always meant that PM is toast. So ... the floodgates opened. Since then it's been averaging out at nearly two resignations an hour. Partly because people who've been sick of Johnson for years finally felt they had permission to do something, but mainly because it's either get away from Johnson as fast as you can or go down with him -- staying = saying "Yeah, judge me and my competence for any future office by the fact I approve of this dickhead". And even before all of this happened Johnson was staggeringly unpopular according to all polls. As I write we're up to forty-six resignations. Keir Starmer, the leader of the opposition, came out with a clearly workshopped-to-fuck but still good line "a sinking ship fleeing the rat."" Any normal Prime Minister would have resigned after the first two! Any normal Prime Minister would have resigned before any of this happened!

Johnson, you will have observed, is not a normal Prime Minister. Trump-like, he is currently insisting he's never going to go. This is somewhat less terrifying than when Trump did it because we don't have guns here and even when he DID have a crazed personal fanbase it wasn't that rabid and he doesn't have it any more. But technically, the rules currently say the Tories can't get rid of him for at least another year. That's not a big problem, as they have the freedom to change those rules and are going to by Monday. But technically, they could vote to remove him as leader of the Conservative party ... and he'd still be Prime Minister. And there would be nothing they or we could do about it! This would be completely unprecedented, a gigantic constitutional crisis, and in that case we might be stuck relying on the fucking Queen to save us, which is obviously a) is pretty dire for a so-called democracy and b) what if she doesn't. It probably won't actually come to that? (...will it?) He has just made a lot of enemies all at once, including the crazy own goal of sacking Michael Gove, his scheming long time frenemy/nemesis, who is the one the Murdoch press really likes. The 1922 committee is "preparing instruments of torture." And although it's true that this is not a normal way for a PM to behave -- a lot of PMs have said "Fuck you all! I can totally survive this!" in various crises, only to quit the following day. So everything's a little terrifying and he might take us all down with him, but it is also spectacular and hilarious and it's preventing the government from actually doing anything. And so today was the headiest and most electrifying day I've experienced, politics-wise, since November 6th, 2020.

#UK politics #Boris Johnson #ukpol

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be-with-me-so-happily · 10 months

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Not Another Time

ONE SHOT

[ or Part 2 of Could We Not ]

<< Request >> "I loved could we not. Can you maybe also write when that guy came running on stage and he maybe pushes reader out of the way or something like that😅" - anon

<< Request >> "Omg PLEASE could you do more parts or ‘could we not’ literally loved it!!!" - @loza--may

Summary: Harry is used to things getting crazy on tour. What he wasn't ready for is how much he misses YN during the Latin American leg of his tour. But at the Rio de Janeiro show, he needs to expect the unexpected.

AN: Highly requested part 2, which I wasn't expecting but am so honored to have written for you all. Sorry it took me FOREVER to write and post this. I hope you like it.

Warnings: Some explicit language, attempted attack by a fan, mild head injury

Not much can shake Harry when it comes to wild moments on tour, throughout his entire career. There once was a fan hiding in a trash bin, dildos thrown at his face, wedding proposals, canceled shows due to illness, and there was even a time when a girl tried to dolphin her way onto the stage, back in the early days. But he still loves it, loves it all. It's titled 'Love On Tour' for a reason.

Now, he's in Latin America. Any and every performance here has such a special place in Harry's heart. He has a 'brasil' tattoo on his thigh, after all. However, the time is a little different.

The horn players have not accompanied the band for these shows. No trombone, no saxophone, and no trumpets. Which means no YN. No sweet but subtle winks onstage, no flirtatious comments backstage, no seeing her bright smile, no hearing her pure laugh, or getting lost in her beautifully deep eyes. No gazing at her lips and wishing so desperately that he could kiss them again.

Unfortunately, their first kiss was their last. Harry hopes that's not forever. But after it happened, he got sick, putting a crimp in his plans to further things with her. When he recovered, their time was taken up by those last few shows in Los Angeles. Then he was off to Mexico. And she wasn't.

Needless to say, her absence is very apparent. To him, at least.

So, like he has done every show since Guadalajara, Harry checks his phone after getting dressed. He wants to make sure he hasn't missed any 'good luck' texts before going on stage, but a disappointed sigh releases as he sees that he has no new messages.

"Alright, H. Ten minutes." The stage assistant announces.

Harry nods, handing his phone over and grabbing his mic pack from the sound tech. The band gathers around for a little pre-show ritual and Harry feels the tug on his heart, wishing there were four more members in their huddle, so there could be one particular member tucked under his arm. But he commits to staying focused on his performance, to put on a good show for the people of Rio de Janeiro.

Despite a few fans fainting in Bogota, things have been relatively smooth so far, and this night should be no different. All he has to do is get out there and get through it.

"Do you know the words to this one Rio?" Harry shouts to the crowd as the band begins to play 'What Makes You Beautiful'.

Despite his efforts, this song always makes him miss YN. The trumpets in the backing track just don't do this song, or any of the songs, as much justice as when she is there, with him, playing live. The other three too, of course, but he has always been able to distinguish her trumpet from the other horns, and he would always dance near her while this song played. Without that, without her, it's just not nearly as exciting.

As he begins the second verse, Harry moves to his left, twisting around to tug on the mic cord that feels as if it's caught on something.

"I don't know why you're being shy…" Harry's eyes shoot up and then around as a security guard strides past him, settling his gaze on a figure charging towards him. "And you turn away when I look into your eyes."

It's like a flash. He is walking, then swiveling around, moving over, and then backing up into another security guard. All within a matter of a few seconds. It takes a moment for him to fully understand what's happening, as multiple crew members grab hold of the man.

Watching him be dragged offstage, Harry moves back to the center mic, still in shock of what happened but still wanting to continue the song.

He glances over to each side of the stage, shaking the disbelief away when he meets the gazes of a few of the band and crew. Each one reciprocates the sentiment, yet seem to keep their caution, as a few of them motion over that way. Harry turns back, just for a quick check, and notices a small group of people gathered in a huddle. He turns back to the crowd. He trusts his team, he knows they are handling whatever it is, and he won't let this one moment take away from the show. It can't stop him. It won't stop him.

As the song ends he takes a quick moment to gather himself and take a breath before turning to the crowd.

"Well that was different…" He states sarcastically, though truthfully. It's probably one of the more accurate ways to describe that moment, especially if he's trying to keep this a 'family show', as he always claims. "Is everybody okay?"

The fans laugh and cheer, seeming to answer his question with the same disbelief he feels.

"I'm shooketh… I'm shooketh!" He exclaims, receiving another laugh from the audience. At least they are recovering and feeling good. Now he can recover and feel good too. He twists around, looking from one side of the stage to another, meeting the gaze of a few security guards and crew as he does so. "Thank you, thank you. You saved me!"

That's when he catches it. The glimpse of a familiar face, of YN's face, off to the side of the stage, among the small group he had noticed earlier. However, her expression is not one he's seen before. Well, only once before. It's pained, again, but this time it looks worse, and Harry feels his stomach drop.

He transitions into a quick acknowledgement of his band members, his mind wanting to focus solely on the one who wasn't even scheduled to be there, but as soon as he's done, he takes advantage of what's next.

He uses the band mic to let everyone know he'll be off to the side while the extended introduction to 'Late Night Talking' plays on the screens, and once the lights dim he swiftly makes his way over.

"YN. What's-... what are you-… umm, hi." He fumbles, his thoughts racing with so many questions. He didn't even know she'd be in Brazil, or at the show, let alone on the side of the stage, and now she's standing there in front of him, with an ice pack on her head.

"Hi." She chuckles minimally, hurting Harry's heart with the lack of usual enthusiasm and joy. "I came… to surprise… everyone."

"Well, you did that!" He exclaims, managing as best of a smile as he can. His gaze travels from her eyes, to her lips, and then up to her head, and his expression immediately drops. "What happened?"

"It's nothing." She attempts to play off, much like the last time he saw her injured. "Don't worry about me."

"That's impossible." He retorts. "What happened?"

"The guy… the fan, just… knocked me down… on his way out with security." She shakes her head, scoffing, though Harry feels as if she's directing it towards herself more than anyone else.

"Okay. Umm… go backstage and get checked out." He states, his ears picking up on the music, knowing he'll have to return to center stage in just a few moments. "I'll… I'll see you after, yeah?"

"Harry, I'm fi-"

"Just do it!" He exclaims, immediately wincing as he watches her eyes widen with surprise. He's never talked to her like that, never even raised his voice even remotely in her direction without it being out of excitement or flirtation. But he cares about her, and now he will only worry more seeing her there in pain. "Please."

She nods, opening her mouth with a reply, but seemingly deciding against it.

Harry gives YN a quick kiss on the cheek and hustles back over to his mic stand, shooting his gaze to the side for one last glance of her as she walks out of sight.

It's not as if he's going to stop worrying, but maybe it'll be a little less than it would if she were still there watching him. He knows she'll be taken care of, and he'll see her when it's over. Right now, he needs to get through the rest of it, preferably without any other issues.

"... on a Summer evening, what is happening? An-... you're the end of… we are going to stop the song."

Technical difficulties. During 'Watermelon Sugar'. Of course. As if Harry's mind wasn't already somewhere else. He knows it's an easy fix, hopefully, but it's just another thing added to the existing thoughts already causing chaos in his mind. He's a professional, sure, but everyone has a limit and he just doesn't want to find out where his is.

Get through it. That's all he has to do, just get through the next song, the show, and the night. Just get through it and then get to YN.

'Love of My Life' is next. Thankfully it's a slow song, so he can calm his mind and body down, even just a little, before the break in the set. And at that point he can finally regroup.

It works, for a moment, until he notices that some fans need help, and despite making his team aware, they are still there struggling. He lifts the mic stand up and turns his head back, motioning with his finger, with some intensity, for someone to help them and get them out of there.

He feels himself spiraling, just a bit, and has never looked forward to the end of a song as much as he is tonight.

As Harry waves to the crowd, with a mouthful of water, he impatiently waits to spit it up in the air, thank the crowd, and get the hell off stage.

The crowd continues to applaud and cheer as he says goodbye, turning around and using the last bit of energy he has to run backstage.

He stops among the hustle of the crew, realizing he isn't sure where to go, or where to even start looking for YN. The most likely place is his dressing room, so he swiftly shuffles his way there, doing his best to acknowledge anyone he passes by that congratulates or compliments him. He feels bad, he usually takes time with each person, always grateful for their work and feedback. But not tonight. He only has one person on his mind. One person he wants and needs to see.

He swings the door open and takes a quick scan of the room, finding no one. Not anyone. Not her. He runs his fingers through his now very sweaty hair, inhaling deeper to catch his breath and figure out where to go next, where to look next.

He takes a seat on the couch, elbows resting in his knees, and glances over to the table in front of him to find a note that wasn't there before. He grabs it immediately, blinking the salty moisture out of his eyes as he looks over the words.

"Hey H.

Went back to the hotel.

Hope you had a great

rest of your show!

- YN"

"Fuck." He mumbles, suddenly remembering how he yelled for her to go backstage. Well, he could argue that he only raised his voice, but in that moment, that hectic moment, it didn't matter. He shouldn't have done it at all. And truth be told, it would've made the entire night better if she had stayed. But he yelled, and sent her away. Now all he wants to do is go to her and make it better, make her feel better.

After the fastest shower and outfit change of his life, Harry found Jeff and discovered that his manager helped YN get there, so he knew which hotel room was hers. At least Harry didn't have to spend countless hours searching all of Rio for her.

He stands in front of her door and takes a deep breath, nerves on edge as he knocks, and fully prepared for her to open the door and ask him to leave. Immediately.

"Harry?" He hears, causing his gaze to lift from his shoes to the woman in front of him. She's dressed in cotton shorts and a t-shirt, looking comfortable and yet more beautiful than he's ever seen her. He just wishes she wasn't also holding another ice pack to her temple.

"YN." He breathes out, unable to form any other words as he looks her over, hopefully more subtle than he fears it might be. "Are y-... how… I mean, umm…"

The sweetest sound grabs his attention and he watches her step aside as she lets out a small giggle.

"Come in."

He nods, and without hesitation steps into the room. The sound of the door closing causes him to swivel on his heel, and his eyes stay fixed on YN as she motions him over to the edge of the bed.

"What's up?" She asks, casually, removing the ice pack and placing it down beside her.

"I, umm, wanted to check on you." He answers, not convinced his volume was even loud enough to be heard. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore." She swiftly responds, and he cringes at the lack of emotion with it. Even though it was only one word, he feels as if he knows her well enough to know that's not her normal tone. "Hit my head when the guy knocked me to the ground."

"I'm so sorry, YN. I didn't know you were there tonight, or I would've…" He pauses, looking down to where his nails pick at each other. "I don't know… I could've done… something…"

"No, Harry, I'm sorry." She states, causing his gaze to shoot back up to find hers filled with, what looks like, embarrassment. And maybe even regret. But definitely with insecurity, which is not something he's used to seeing from her. "I shouldn't have come."

"Oh." His heart drops.

"I feel like I may have been in the way. Well, I was for that fan…" She states, the smallest smile lifting the corners of her mouth, despite the roll of her eyes and shake of her head. "But I definitely didn't want to be in yours."

"No! I'm glad you're here!" He replies, without hesitation, and watches as her eyes widen, now allowing him to see the depths at which they usually take him to.

"You are? Because it seemed like…" YN clears her throat, confirming for Harry that she is in fact nervous. Not confident. And it seems to be his fault. "It seemed like you were upset when you saw me."

"No! Not at all." Harry replies, his frustration with himself appearing in the crease between his brows. "I wasn't upset seeing you there, I was upset seeing you hurt. Really upset. I didn't mean to yell at you. I'm sorry."

"It's fine, H. I'm alright."

"I know. I know that. I just… I was worried for the rest of the show, wondering if you were okay. It was torturing me."

"I didn't mean for that to happen. I'm really sorry." She lets out a sigh, and it almost breaks Harry's heart as she drops her gaze and squeezes her eyes shut.

"No, don't-... that's not-..." Harry lets out a low growl in frustration. He doesn't know how to express what he means, and if he even should. But at this point, he doesn't know if he can hold back. "It was torture because all I wanted to do was fix it for you. Like last time."

"Like last time?"

He hears her breath hitch, and his heart races more, feeling each beat thump against his chest. They had shared a kiss the last time she got hurt. They spent the rest of the night together, hanging out and talking until the sun was almost rising. But then nothing. Was that it? Was it just a one time thing, just a momentary thing after an adrenaline-raising show? No, it wasn't. Not for him. And she needs to know.

"I… like you, YN. A lot. And that night… meant a lot to me." He fully turns his body towards her, gaining a fraction of the confidence for himself that he has always seen in her, and since she is now there in Brazil, he won't waste another minute without sharing his heart. "We didn't really get to talk much afterwards, or see each other even, but I just need you to know that… I want to be with you. If… if that's something you want too."

Harry watches as she pulls her lips inward, hoping that the expression he sees underneath is pleasant. Pleasant for him. But he suddenly realizes that if she doesn't feel the same, he doesn't want to lose her. For the band.

"If it's not, no problem. We can move past it." He swallows the lump caught grasping against the walls of his throat. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable, and don't want you to leave the band over it. You're very talented, YN."

"Thank you." She replies, looking over at him with those gorgeous eyes and a tenderness she's never given him before, and despite him offering to move past his feelings, for the sake of his heart, he desperately hopes that she feels the same. He wants her to only look at him like that from now on. "And that night meant a lot to me as well."

"Yeah?" He responds, shifting in his spot at the edge of her bed, with all the giddiness of a lovesick school boy.

"I want to be with you too, H."

His palms fly up to her cheeks, receiving a warmth from them that flows right to his chest. His gaze flickers to her lips, yearning for them, desperate for them.

"Are you going to kiss me or not?" She chuckles, and his heart swells from the self-assurance that she always expresses, that he has fallen for.

He grins, wider than he ever has, but only for a moment. He's not going to wait any longer. He leans closer, and her eyes close, pursing her soft lips to meet his in a gentle kiss.

Her hands run up his arms, applying pressure as they move over his shoulders, and connect behind his neck. She pulls him closer, and his tongue teases her lips before she parts them, each sighing as they deepen the kiss.

His chest tightens, this time out of need for air, so he pulls back, only leaving enough room for a breath, and smiles as he hears her release her own, happy exhale.

"How are you feeling now?" He asks, resting his forehead against hers as one hand strokes over the hair covering her temple.

"Much better. I do need to rest now, though." She whispers. "But, you know, I may have a concussion…"

"That's not funny."

"No, it's not. It's very serious." She pulls away more, hands still behind his head, and his mind fills with worry. Worry and confusion, as he watches her smile reappear through her solemn expression. "I should probably have someone stay with me tonight. To make sure I'm alright, of course."

"Of course." He smirks, feeling his heart burst, following as she scoots up the bed and rests her head on the pillow.

He does the same, laying down to face her, and sees her eyes begin to flutter shut. It's been an exhausting day for the both of them.

"Come here." He whispers, opening his arms for her to settle in, wrapping them around her body, and pulling her to his chest. "You doing okay?"

"More than okay." She utters, drowsiness now coating her words. "Thank you, for fixing things."

"Anytime." He replies, placing a tender kiss on top of her head. "I'll fix things for you anytime."

A silence falls between them, and as he hears her soft breaths leave her even softer lips, Harry hums in contentment, allowing his own body to succumb to the rest it now needs too. He shuts his eyes, and one last thought appears as he feels himself happily drift off to sleep.

Despite all the chaos, this night didn't turn out so bad after all. With YN, it's been the best one yet.

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copperbadge · 18 days

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One of the things I used to do when I was having creative difficulties was to declare a moratorium on creation -- say to myself, "Well, you're blocked or frustrated with everything. Maybe no more writing for the rest of the month," and then no matter what, I would commit to doing no more writing until the set date. I was just giving myself permission to take a little space without guilt, but once I'm not allowed to create, I tend to want to, so it's often been not just restful but rejuvenating. I have other coping methods that I've built, so I haven't had to do it in a long time, but apparently it still works.

The last two weeks have been a lot of travel, socializing and work, and I haven't had a ton of time or space to myself. It's been for good reasons, and overall very positive, but I've done essentially no fiction writing, especially since before that I was getting Royals/Ramblers out the door and pulling the Omnibus V2 together. But this morning I sat down before the day really began and realized I did actually want to write. I didn't get to actually do much because R and baby U woke up and I wanted to cook breakfast and hang out with them, but at least I wanted to write, and had a vague idea of how to attack it.

Life keeps feeling unreal -- I keep thinking something's profoundly off, and then realizing yeah, I've been putting my entire normal existence on hold for weeks on end. Even when I've been in Chicago I've been sick and work's had some unusual challenges, and there have been a few novel personal life events. A lot of what I have done has also been laced with an anxiety I don't normally have to deal with, for one reason or another.

Tomorrow are the last few hurdles -- I have to get to the airport and I have a non-direct flight to Chicago for the first time in over a decade, which are always stressful. Once I'm home, it's just the usual travel recovery: laundry, cooking, reassuring kitties. I have to get through the rest of the week's work, but at least there's nothing too intensive. The weekend is mainly free, though I'm going to try and see if I can see a few people socially and do some shopping for a party I'm throwing the following weekend.

It does feel like the hits keep coming, like this hectic pace is just my life now, but I know that I'll be home, with time and resources I haven't had in a while, and things will slowly ease up. I was telling myself I had to hold on until April 10th, and really it's going to be more like the end of April before silence truly descends, but at least after tomorrow I'll have time to write and finally the motivation as well.

I do feel sometimes like there was a "normal" that I had established which started slowly vanishing after the ADHD diagnosis, and I'm not sure I'm equipped to build a new one in the same way. That said, I'm sure I'll settle back into a groove once I'm sleeping in my own bed for more than two nights running.

It feels like the space I had carved in the world for myself now doesn't quite fit me anymore. It's a neutral kind of sensation -- not comfortable, but not painful, and equally not very productive. But it's not like I evaporate if I don't figure it out immediately, I suppose.

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bonefall · 5 months

Note

i know u dont rework arcs untill theyre complete but im very excited to see what you do with a starless clan, theres so much exciting things happening in this arc to work with. do you have any changes you already know for sure you’ll be incorporating?

No for-sures. I don't want to make any for-sures. I have ones I'm feeling but I don't want to call ANYTHING a for-sure yet. I need to find out what the ending is, WHERE this is all going, because I have a strong philosophy in my writing that a story is like a spear;

IT'S ALL ABOUT GETTING TO THE POINT.

But we are 4/6 of the way in, so I CAN start talking about thoughts!

I'm actually leaning pretty heavily towards axing Nightheart as a POV. There's still time for the books to turn around and justify it, BUT HEAR ME OUT

(Saying AS someone who is a Nightheart Enjoyer)

So far I'm really feeling that his character would benefit from us never being inside of his head, or seeing what he's been going through. As much as I WILL stand by that I enjoyed books 1 and 2 and liked his perspectives there, I'm starting to think that it would serve the story a lot better for Sunbeam and Frostpaw to be guessing just as much as we are.

We'd get introduced to Nightheart on the journey for catmint.

Sunbeam connects with him immediately, because she's tossed on this mission while she's in the middle of a swirling tide of drama. With nothing but Clerics and a hardened Rootspring to the left and her ex-bestie (exstie) to the right, he's really her only other choice for companionship. She's chronically unable to stop problems before they get out of hand, the sort of person who becomes frozen by indecision, and then here comes this Glorious Bastard

In her eyes, he's so caring, and bold, and fun! He's the first one to jump headlong into danger, to really be interested in her problems and just let her talk, and his story is so heartbreaking! A mother who's so hard on him... and his Clan is so mean all the time, but he wants to prove to all of them that he's more than just Firestar's descendant... but he was so brave to choose his own name.................

And then, when she follows him into ThunderClan, she learns he fucking lied. She changed Clans based on SOB STORIES

When she first comes, no one knows what he's been saying behind their back. Even if they did, they don't want to start trashing Nightheart right to his new mate's face. But then he LEAVES, and Sunbeam will bring up,

"Maybe it was because you were hard on him?"

And then Sparkpelt tries to agree, just to take blame onto herself and stop all this, but Finchlight's had eNOUGH and ends up setting the record straight;

"No this is DEFINITELY another tantrum. He already ran off once before."

"NO he didn't pick his own name, he stopped the whole ceremony to complain and Bramblestar gave him a compromise"

"MEAN to him?? I had to do HIS WORK because he couldn't STAY ON THE GROUND"

"Oh he's buckling under the weight of his legacy? that must be so hard. I was cat-fifteen when i punched my first fascist and he was wearing the face of my grandpa."

"His mom aba-WHAT?? ABANDONED???? OUR MOTHER WAS EXILED AND HE STAYED HOME!!!!! WE WERE CAT-FIFTEEN!!"

With this false hope shattered, Sunbeam is thrown into a devastating situation where... her mother was right. She was tricked. And now she's stuck in this new Clan without any of her old friends, without this mate who was too-good-to-be-true, the ONE impulsive choice she's made on her own in her WHOLE LIFE turns to ashes in her mouth. She can't go back, either, because Berryheart would NEVER let her live this down.

But... it's okay.

It's a slow shock, to make a choice SO impulsive and SO self-concerned, and find a safety net below her. It's going to be okay. The trials are fair. The cats of ThunderClan interrupt and speak over each other, but, that teaches her to be more assertive. Sparkpelt and Finchlight are not the mean assholes that Nightheart built them up to be, and they'll support her no matter what she chooses to do with her possible mate.

I want Nightheart TO get better, but, in order for that to happen, he has to face, and, more importantly, ACCEPT consequences. He needs to develop the maturity to say, "I acted like a brat and didn't appreciate what I had. and I'm sorry. you don't have to forgive me."

Bottom line being, Nightheart is striking me lately as a character that works best as unpredictable, because we have NO IDEA what's truly in his head. It would be interesting for him to have a novella later, but as it stands, his POV has consistently just been a duplicate since he joined ShadowClan. We gained NOTHING from splitting the Frostpaw Journey of the newest book in half POV, and VERY little from splitting the ShadowClan one into half POV.

I might reduce the POVs to 2, just Sunbeam and Frostpaw, or change Nightheart's to Lightleap. If I NEED 3 main characters, then they should all be a consistent camera on different parts of the conflict.

Again. I do not commit to changes until the arcs are done. Nothing in BB!ASC is set yet.

But here's some other little things I'm thinking,

Bramblestar is VOTED out.

He does not step down. The little "game" he played with Nightheart to create a situation to yell at Squilf, who hasn't been his mate in a long time in BB, was the LAST straw for ThunderClan.

They had sympathy for him before that point, because of what he went through with Ashfur, but his leadership was long and controversial even before the Impostor.

And there's a really strong sentiment that IF Bramblestar had been a good leader... they would have realized he was possessed sooner. So, there are those who partially blame him for the tyranny of the Impostor.

Basically; enough is enough.

Berryheart's hate group has ACTUAL consequences. Someone gets killed; probably Antfur, who survived the last arc to die here.

More fights. This arc has been too bloodless. Already planning SEVERAL sudden, random brawls in RiverClan as tensions boil.

Heartstar is going to be MORE controversial. Not controversial enough in canon imo. I don't like how Leaf and Squilf seem like they have "hypothetical" issues with the invasion instead of being able to point at REAL ones.

riverclan didn't forget how to do the chores they've done their WHOLE lives, no. I'm going to talk about POWER VACUUMS and create ACTUAL factions that begin to coagulate in RiverClan.

if we're going to have a brainless plot about how "Well Ackshually democracy has enough problems to make us reconsider not having unaccountable, tyrannical dictators, because a vote could maybe be called over One Single Issue" then I'll talk about shit like the spoiler effect, mob mentality, and factionalism. Get the hell out of my way ERIN I'll cook

No Smoky. Society has progressed past the need for Smoky. No Smokyng Area.

Whistlepaw should to try and take care of her ALONE, not trained enough to take care of SUCH bad wounds and barely able to keep her trembling paws straight, and Frostpaw realizes that she's making her watch her own friend die.

Is this how her life is going to end? slipping away under the paws of someone she loves, for what? pride? to do what her mother told her-- trust no cat?

As she TRUSTS Whistlepaw? Trusts her SO much, that Frostpaw will force her to be the only witness to her death?

FROSTPAW CALLS THE HUMAN

...which in BB, is a team of researchers. She drags herself to them, and collapses. This is why they just HAPPENED to have the proper equipment on them; they're WILDLIFE VETS.

Not sure how I'm going to handle Frostpaw's Journey though. In BB, the Park Cats are already a foundational part of Clan Culture.

In all honesty, while I HAVE to praise the fact that the Erins have FINALLY created ONE outsider group that isn't malicious or defenseless... I don't much care for them.

sending frostpaw on a side quest to what's essentially a big DOTC reference. Look! It's that group we introduced in the last 5 chapters of our latest glorified recap! cooool.

We're just going to get nothing but fucking founders in every dream from now on. I'm SURE of it.

As a consolation prize to myself though I will be writing cool angel scenes of the absolute BEING that Riverstar has become in heaven.

Riverstar (normal cat): "Elder Bones I'm going out!"

"not dressed like THAT you're not!!!"

Riverstar (the manifestation of the river, the rain in the sky above, and the abyss below, and how through water we are all truly connected as one being): "better?"

I will probably keep the Park Cats and rework them significantly, but I'm leaning pretty heavily towards Frostpaw visiting a LOT of places. A holy pilgrimage.

ESPECIALLY one of the Tribe's three wards; the River Ward. The Tribe of Rushing Water believes (it's even in the name) that water connects all things.

So I think it would be really fitting for Frostpaw to learn from MANY perspectives, starting with this philosophy put forth by the River Ward.

And she realizes-- that's what Riverstar is, as well. As a being. He is mentoring her on this pilgrimage, while barely saying a word. She can feel him wherever she is, because he isn't JUST the God of the River.

He is connection. He is peace. He's water. Too much and you'd drown, not enough and you'd thirst.

#BB!ASC #better bones au #Bone babble

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ilynpilled · 8 months

Text

GRRM on morality, heroism, villainy, and parallax in ASOIAF:

Time magazine wrote of you, “What really distinguishes Martin and what marks him as a major force for evolution in fantasy is his refusal to embrace a vision of the world as a struggle between good and evil.” Do you agree?

I think the struggle between good and evil is central to fantasy and, indeed, in some ways, central to most fiction. It's certainly a worthy subject for fiction. But I regard the struggle between good and evil as being waged within the individual human heart. […] You know, the greatest monsters of history, as we look back on them, thought they were the heroes of the story. You know, the villain is the hero of the other side, as sometimes said. That doesn't mean that it's all morally relative. That doesn't mean that all things are equally good and evil. I think there is good and there is evil in the world. But you know, it's sometimes a struggle to tell one from the other and to make the right choices. I've always been attracted to great characters, maybe because that's what I see when I look around the real world, whether I read about it in history books or the news or just people I meet. I mean, all of us have it within ourselves to be heroes. All of us have it within ourselves to be villains. We've all done good things in our lives, and most of us have also done selfish things, cowardly things, things that we're ashamed of in later years. And to my mind, that's, I don't know, the glory of the human race. We're such wonderfully contradictory, mixed-up creatures that we're endlessly fascinating to write about and read about.

via

In your work, you have essentially captured Mikhail Bakhtin's concept of polyphonic fiction, where the characters are equal, and the reader can root for any of them. This has been impossible to convey on the TV series.

I wouldn't say all the characters are equal, but they have (hopefully) human traits, especially the viewpoint characters. I have seven viewpoint characters in the first book, and each book has a few more. So, by now, we're probably up to 12 or 13 viewpoint characters, and those are the ones where I go actually inside their skin, so you're seeing the world through their eyes. You're hearing their thoughts. You're feeling their emotions. And I try to paint over those viewpoint characters, and some of them are noble and just, and some of them are kind of selfish, and some of them are very intelligent, and some of them are less intelligent and even stupid. But they're all human, and I want to portray their humanity. […] I think the battle between good and evil is fought all over the world, every day, in the individual human heart, as we all struggle with the choices that define us and define our lives. And we have to choose what we are going to do, and sometimes the choice is not easy; it's not this absolute juxtaposition of the good guys and the bad guys. And I wanted to get to that with my characters, and show some of the difficulties that they face.

via

Another element I liked about the series was the moral relativism of many of the characters. Too many Fantasies rely on the shorthand of truly evil villains in the absolute moral sense, but your characters, while they might commit terrible acts, generally do so either from short-sighted self-interest or because they truly believe they are acting for the best. Was this a deliberate decision, or is it just more interesting to write this way?

Both. I have always found grey characters more interesting than those who are pure black and white. I have no qualms with the way that Tolkien handled Sauron, but in some ways The Lord of the Rings set an unfortunate example for the writers who were to follow. […] Before you can fight the war between good and evil, you need to determine which is which, and that's not always as easy as some Fantasists would have you believe.

via

Do you purposely start a character as bad so you can later kill them?

No. What is bad? Bad is a label. We are human beings with heroism and self-interest and avarice in us and any human is capable of great good or great wrong. In Poland a couple of weeks ago I was reading about the history of Auschwitz - there were startling interviews with the people there. The guards had done unthinkable atrocities, but these were ordinary people. What allowed them to do this kind of evil? Then you read accounts of acts of outrageous heroism, yet the people are criminals or swindlers, one crime or another, but when forced to make a choice they make a heroic choice. This is what fascinated me about the human animal.

via

Martin's realm is not one of unambiguous heroes and villains. His characters, from royals to peasants, tend to be ethically mutable. So-called good people, like the noblemen Ned Stark, his son Robb Stark or the indomitable Daenerys Targaryen ("the Mother of Dragons"), make terrible mistakes - out of weakness, pride or an overly rigid sense of right and wrong. And horrible people, like Jaime Lannister, known as "the Kingslayer," do terrible things and then, over the course of several books, reveal themselves to be capable of heroism and sacrifice.

As we're discussing this in the theater, Martin quotes Shakespeare's "Julius Caesar" from memory: “The evil that men do lives after them ;/ The good is oft interred with their bones.” Then he adds his own version: “We shouldn't forget about the evil that good men do. But we shouldn't forget about the good either,” he says. “I do think a society needs heroes. They don't have to be flawless.”

via

Your books have a very strong storyline associated with the atonement of sins. For example, the way of Jaime Lannister, do you yourself believe in karma?

I don’t believe in karma per se, although sometimes I have my doubts because sometimes I think I see things that could be explained by karma. But no, I don’t really have any beliefs in the supernatural. I do believe in the possibility of redemption. And I believe that human beings, all human beings, are grey. And I try to remember that when I write my characters. We are all heroes, we are all villains, we all have the capacity for great good and we all have the capacity to do things that are selfish and evil and wrong. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference. In your lifetime, you can be both. And it’s making choices that defines us as human beings. There’s this sensation of compartmentalism. This eagerness to judge everybody based on the worst thing they ever did, not the best thing they ever did. And you know, I think Shakespeare in "Julius Caesar" wrote “The evil that men do lives after them ;/ The good is oft interred with their bones.” And sadly that’s true. And I think it should be the reverse. We should remember the good things and the noble things that people did, and forgive them for their failures and moments of selfishness or wrongdoing because we all have them. When we forgive them, we are essentially forgiving ourselves. Redemption should be possible.

via

Are there any characters that you've kind of fallen out of love with, that you just don't, you know, get excited about any more?

I still love all the characters. Even some of them who aren't very lovable. At least the viewpoint characters. When I'm writing in the viewpoint of one of these characters, I'm really inside their skin. So, you trying to see the world through their eyes to understand why they do the things they do. And we all have, even characters who are thought of to be bad guys, who are bad guys, in some objective sense, don't think of themselves as bad guys. […] “What evil can I do today?” Real people don't think that way. We all think we're heroes, we all think we're good guys. We have our rationalizations when we do bad things. “Well, I had no choice,” or “It's the best of several bad alternatives,” or “No it was actually good because God told me so,” or “I had to do it for my family.” We all have rationalizations for why we do shitty things or selfish things or cruel things. So when I'm writing from the viewpoint of one of my characters who has done these things, I try to have that in my head. And I do, so there's an empathy there that makes me love even people like Victarion Greyjoy, who is basically a dullard and a brute. But, he feels aggrieved and sees the world a certain way. And Jaime Lannister and Theon Greyjoy, they all have their own viewpoints. I love them all. Some I love more than others, I guess.

Who do you think to be the most important characters?

They're all important. I don't favor them, or I don't think of them in terms of importance. The viewpoint characters in the first book I have are Bran, Tyrion, Catelyn, Ned, Jon Snow, the two girls Arya and Sansa. There is the core of the Stark family plus Tyrion to represent the Lannister family. Then I have Dany on the other side of the sea, Daenerys Targaryen, whose story runs parallel and some ways doesn't connect to the others, but some day I'll eventually bring those two stories together. In each subsequent volume I drop some of my viewpoint characters and add new ones. Although the same core still dominates, the cast changes somewhat, and I like to do that. In the third volume which you haven't gotten to yet (he refers to me) I have a new viewpoint character. He's been a major character, but now you see things for the first time through his eyes. Which I think changes your perception of things somewhat. I like to play that kind of game, because we all have our own way of looking at the world. Something occurs and two people witness it. They might have very different versions of what happened, and very different explanations. I like to play with parallax in my fiction, and get different versions of the same thing.

via

A Song of Ice and Fire has much of the complex texture of authentic history, both generally and in its specific echoes of actual historical episodes. What laws and principles (if any) in your view govern human history, and how has your understanding of historical processes shaped the series?

Historical processes have never much interested me, but history is full of stories, full of triumph and tragedy and battles won and lost. It is the people who speak to me, the men and women who once lived and loved and dreamed and grieved, just as we do. Though some may have had crowns on their heads or blood on their hands, in the end they were not so different from you and me, and therein lies their fascination. I suppose I am still a believer in the now unfashionable "heroic" school, which says that history is shaped by individual men and women and the choices that they make, by deeds glorious and terrible. That is certainly the approach I have taken in A Song of Ice and Fire.

A Song of Ice and Fire undergoes a very interesting progression over its first three volumes, from a relatively clear scenario of Good (the Starks) fighting Evil (the Lannisters) to a much more ambiguous one, in which the Lannisters are much better understood, and moral certainties are less easily attainable. Are you deliberately defying the conventions and assumptions of neo-Tolkienian Fantasy here?

Guilty as charged. The battle between good and evil is a legitimate theme for a Fantasy (or for any work of fiction, for that matter), but in real life that battle is fought chiefly in the individual human heart. Too many contemporary Fantasies take the easy way out by externalizing the struggle, so the heroic protagonists need only smite the evil minions of the dark power to win the day. And you can tell the evil minions, because they're inevitably ugly and they all wear black. I wanted to stand much of that on its head. In real life, the hardest aspect of the battle between good and evil is determining which is which.

via

When you are writing the different conflicts in Westeros, do you personally pick a side? Or feel that one side fights for a more just cause than the other?

Yes, certainly. I mean, I’ve often said that I believe in grey characters, I don’t believe in black and white characters. But that’s not to say that all characters are equally grey. You know, some are very dark grey, and some are mostly white but they still have occasional flaws. I’ve always been fascinated by human beings and all of their complexity— even human beings that do appalling things, you know, the question is ‘Why?’ And it’s interesting to get inside their head and see why. Some of my viewpoint characters have done some incredibly reprehensible things: Theon, for example, or Victarion Greyjoy. Why? Were they born a monster? Weren’t they born like a cute little kid wanting to be loved and all that? We all start out that way, right? But things happen to us on the way that lead to junctures in our lives where we make decisions, and those decisions and the consequences of them color everything that comes after. You look at [historical figures] and what’s the verdict on these men? Are they heroes, are they villains? Are they great people, or people we should despise? I mean, they are fascinating characters because of their complexity.

via

“I don't concern myself over whether my characters are “likeable” or “sympathetic.” (I had my fill of that in television). My interest is in trying to make them real and human. If I can create a fully-fleshed three-dimensional character, some of my readers will like him/her, or some won't, and that's fine with me. That's the way real people react to real people in the real world, after all. Look at the range of opinions we get on politicans and movie stars. If EVERYONE likes a certain character, or hates him, that probably means he's made of cardboard. So I will let my readers decide who they like, admire, hate, pity, sympathize with, etc. The fact that characters like Sansa, Catelyn, Jaime, and Theon provoke such a wide range of reactions suggests to me that I have achieved my goal in making them human.”

via

“You want the reader to care about your characters — if they don’t, then there’s no emotional involvement. But at the same time, I want my characters to be nuanced, to be gray, to be human beings. I think human beings are all nuanced. There’s this tendency to want to make people into heroes and villains. And I think there are villains in real life and there are heroes in real life. But even the greatest heroes have flaws and do bad things, and even the greatest villains are capable of love and pain and occasionally have moments where you can feel sympathetic for them. As much as I love science fiction and fantasy and imaginative stuff, you always have to go back to real life as your touchstone and say, ‘What is the truth?’”

via

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lightlycareless · 2 months

Note

Could you please spare some child au or high school au hc? Please I’m so hungry 😔 /hj

Hello dear anon!!

Well, I've decided to write a lil thing for the child au :> It's the au that I have most neglected, mainly because I don't get any inspiration for it 😭 (idk, just... nothing comes to me, you know?)

BUT I did manage to get this, mainly from my experiences... or maybe that was just me. Either way, I remember taking pictures of just about anything and posting them to my myspace (OOOF) soooo........ enjoy :>

warnings: none, fluff. plus a little something I wanted to explore at the end.

Happy reading!

“—A camera!” Naoya grins as he proudly shows off his newest acquisition, a gift from one of his grandparents; the latest digital model found in the market!

And perhaps something the adults might’ve wanted to wait a bit longer before getting, or at least put up some resistance against Naoya’s never-ending fits when it comes to impressing you…

“What do you think? Nice, right?”

You stare at it for a few seconds, before giving him a big, bright grin and a nod.

“Yes!”

Naoya’s heart flutters—his purpose accomplished.

“I knew you’d be able to recognize excele—exclen—excellency!” he boasts, whether he knew the meaning of that word meant or not, is a mystery for both.

“What are you going to do with it?” you curiously ask. You’ve never had a camera, even though you’ve long expressed your interest for it, (your parents were a bit more… sensible when it came to spoiling you.) Nonetheless, what Naoya’s got was also yours, much to their chagrin.

“Take pictures, of course!”

“But of what?” you pout, frowning.

There’s actually so many things he wishes to do with his new camera, things that he’s partially done already, from taking pictures of the new figures he’s got from his favorite anime to the drawings he’s been slowly working on to impress you…

However, he had a reputation to maintain, and such, he gives you the response he thinks will make him look the coolest, straight from Naoaki’s —his oldest brother— book.

“I don’t know, just, whatever I guess.” He shrugs, copying every mannerism, down to the tone, to impress you.

But to you, he only appeared absent-minded, as if he was foolishly failing to realize the great opportunities having a camera presented!

And thankfully, you’d come to his aid. Unknowingly creating a win-win situation for the two.

“Oh, I know! We can take pictures of us doing cool poses!” you grin. “Like the ones in my brother’s posters!! Or that anime you were watching the other day!!”

“That girl group?” Naoya twists his lips, not very… fond of your idea at first, until the frown on your face rectifies his response. “I mean—If that’s what you want…”

Of course, what he said wasn’t what he felt, for the moment you grabbed his hand with your soft one, tightly holding onto him as you led him towards your room, he was nothing but willing to do what you desired.

He’d silently observe you take out a few of the magazines you managed to sneak out of your brother’s room (Ren’s very aware of it, he just lets you keep them, happy to share his enjoyment for the Spice Girls.) and get ideas of what poses to replicate—down to the smallest details.

Naoya’s commitment had some limits, though.

“I don’t know if I want to do that one…” Naoya murmurs, slightly embarrassed, fearing what he’ll look like before you if he accepts…

“Why not? I even got the clothes!” you encouraged. Kind of. They’re your best attempt at something like that. It’s the thought that counts, though.

But in the end, you let Naoya not take part in the activity, solely because he got an even better job to do—that is, being your own personal photographer.

A camera is something that you’ve always been allured to, especially the instant ones where you can get the picture immediately after, so to hear that your best friend is getting one, and that he’s more than happy to share this adventure with you, is like a dream come true!

So, the two begin to take all kinds of pictures, with just about any pose you could think of, and landscapes to choose from; getting more and more ideas the longer this photoshoot went on.

Eventually, Naoya would also feel comfortable enough to take pictures with you; although truth to be told, he was hoping to get one either way, realizing that by doing this… he’ll have a piece of you to take come.

The thought of keeping your adorableness through pictures is enough to fill his heart with this growing sentiment he has yet to discover as love—or perhaps completely understand, achieving so until much older…

When he isn’t fretting about your increasingly worrisome choices, that is.

“Take a picture when I’m jumping down the edge!!” you’d say. “I’m going to do this cool pose like in Naruto, so be ready!!”

“Y/N, wait!” He cries, camera unprepared, while fearing for your wellbeing. “What if you get hurt?!”

“I’m a ninja! I can’t get hurt!”

The number of scares you’d put him through that day are ones that he’ll never forget, the mere thought of them enough to send shivers through his spine…

But even then, he didn’t complain much. Because he was nothing but happy see you smile and laugh, proof that his decision was the right one, yet again, just to show how well he’s gone to know you—already planning what to get when you eventually grow tired of the camera…

If he doesn’t destroy it first when his brothers eventually discover his embarrassing photos.

“Naoya, come here please!” You’d call from another room, a request that was immediately granted just a few seconds after when he crosses through the doors.

“What is it, my love?” Naoya asks, throughout the years, his determination to please you has never dwindled.

“Look what I found!”

“Oh, its—”

The same camera he got all those years ago, the first one he’s got. A relic of his childhood, in other words.

“The camera, that one! Remember?” you say. Rummaging through the moving boxes has been quite nostalgic as of lately, but you never expected to see something so… ancient, no offense meant. “Wow, can’t believe it’s here…”

“Me neither…” Naoya says, somewhat… nervous.

“Think it still has pictures from back then?”

Naoya immediately turns red.

“No!” he shrieks, making you raise an eyebrow. Did you forget, perhaps? “I mean—It’s old, who knows if the battery or memory are any good.”

“Let’s find out then!” you grin, quickly standing up to look for a compatible charger.

Naoya tries to stop you, kind of; he doesn’t really put that much of a fight whenever he sees you this enthusiastic, although he wishes he could’ve for once, considering how anxious he felt for the impending moment the camera turned on and revealed all those embarrassing pictures he innocently took back then.

To when you giggle graces his ears, amused by his antics…

But when the camera beeps on, he’s received with… well, nothing. Just silence as you diligently flick through the photos, each one received by your intense gaze that makes him wonder if perhaps the camera didn’t work anymore…

Until noticing the fluster in your cheeks, then did Naoya dare to ask what’s wrong.

“Y/N, is… everything ok?”

“Naoya… did you really… keep all these pictures?” you ask, slowly turning around to see him, revealing your burning face.

“I… did.” He silently admits, unsure where this is going, but convinced it wasn’t good. “I… well, you liked them, so I thought I’d keep them, in case you wanted to see them again, of course. I didn’t know you wanted me to… delete them.”

It’s funny to see that even when married, Naoya is just as anxious when it comes to openly expressing his feelings—he’s gotten better at it, of course, the two were now living in the same house together, hoping for a baby…

But maybe it’s the inner child in him, the one that never got to express his feelings back then, didn’t know how. Even though he wanted so, so much.

Which is coincidentally, the same reason that made your breath hitch to your throat, heart skipping a beat when realizing that Naoya, all this time, has…

“—You’ve always cared for me, haven’t you?”

Naoya blinks, caught off guard by the direction this conversation was heading; but even then, he nods, admitting what you confessed.

You knew that already; you wouldn’t have married him if that wasn’t the case.

It’s just that… to be reminded that Naoya always had your wellbeing in mind, probably since the moment he met you… melted your heart.

Truly, you had found your soulmate.

“Enough to even… take these silly pictures of me!” You add, it’s your turn to be embarrassed by all the goofy pictures you made him take; you knew you were nothing but a child back then, actions like these more than expected, but now that you were an adult… you can’t help but wince, covering your cheeks with your hands as you continue to fret. “Oh my god, Naoya—how did you even put up with me back then??! Seriously, look at this one!! It’s all coming to me now—I think I got hurt, didn’t I? Or at least that’s how it felt…”

“I guess I just liked you too much.” He says, a smile on his face.

“I guess you did.” You giggle. “Guess you must’ve had it real bad if you were willing to make silly faces with me! Though you looked far cuter than me, but then again, you were always good-looking.”

“What are you on, love? I don’t think either of us looked good.” he snickers, leaning down and looking at the camera. “Definitely not you on that photo.”

“Hey!” you gasp. “No need to go that low!”

“Or what?” he smirks. “Gonna make me take more pictures of you?”

You gasp. “I’ll take this as blackmail, then!” and then, you stand up, sprinting past the door and away from him, hoping to get a copy of these pictures onto the computer and let your evil scheming commence.

“Huh?! No you’re not!” Naoya says, running right behind you, eventually catching up to you and taking the camera away from your hands.

But you meant no harm, of course, not when the presence of them filled the two with nostalgia, fondly looking back to the moment the two were nothing but kids, yet, unknowingly fated to be with one another.

It’s always meant to be that way; to be happy together, whether in the past, the present, or the future.

One the two have yet to create, now as a family.

Which neither could wait for it to happen.

Naoya and YN growing to be together is the ultimate endgame. I will not discuss otherwise :) also, Naoya might be holding onto those pictures in hopes of showing them off to their future daughter, just to get back at her (Naomi is not thrilled, at all. It's probably the first time she thinks of her parents as weird)

Oh, I hope you enjoyed this little thing 🥺❤️ thank you so much for sending in this ask, the child au is 😭 the fluff I need amongst these times of angst haha.

Anyways, I will try my best to write the Naoya b-day one shot :> In between requests and updates.... you know... eheh.

Thank you so much for your patience, take care, and hope to see you soon ❤️❤️❤️

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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astermath · 9 months

Note

The touch starved prompts are making me be in my feels :') If you're still open to requests for them, can I have either "how long has it been since someone hugged or?" or "you don't need to earn my affection, not now and not ever." with Steve? Those two really hit hard for me... :')

omg i almost completely overlooked this ask i'm so sorry! the first one i answered not too long ago with this oneshot, but i'll happily write the second one!

send in some touch starved prompts! ♡

word count: 1K

You’ve been sick for two days already, and frankly, you’ve had enough.

It’s not that you feel bad for missing out on work. Seriously, you could have used a break from 10 hour shifts a long time ago already. And you don’t really have any other commitments you regret not being able to attend either.

No, Steve is taking care of you.

And it’s very conflicting.

On one hand, you love it. He’s your boyfriend, of course he takes care of you. He makes you soup, makes sure you have a blanket and a nice hot water bottle at your disposal, does everything around the house. It’s like heaven. Well, almost like heaven.

Because you can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of guilt about it all.

It’s stupid, you know it’s stupid. You would do the exact same thing for him if he was sick.

But there’s this awful feeling gnawing away at you, making you feel like he’s slaving away for you and that you’re ungrateful, that you don’t deserve it. That he doesn’t even like taking care of you, he just pities you.

That’s why when he comes to sit down next to you on the couch, reaching out for a cuddle, you pull away.

You don’t dare to look his way. You know the expression on his face already, a mixture of confusion and hurt. Mostly confusion. You’re sick, maybe you just don’t want to make him sick as well?

“Come on, we can cuddle, right? I’ve got a strong immune system, I won’t get sick from giving my girl some attention now.” He chuckles, but you don’t give in. It’s starting to concern him now. His sweet girl, not wanting to be enveloped in his arms? Maybe your sickness has gotten to your brain, or he’s done something seriously wrong.

“Hey,” He ducks his head under a little so he can get a look at your face, but you turn away. “What’s up baby? Did I do something?”

That makes you look at him, because you can’t have him thinking your insecurities have anything to do with his actions. He’s perfect, literally the dream boyfriend. And yet you feel like he’s being too good for you right now.

Your eyes are watery, and that you cannot blame on the illness. Steve’s expression softens, and he suddenly feels a lot worse for joking around just now.

“It’s just— you’re being so nice to me, and I… I don’t know…”

“Peach… If I’m doing something wrong, you can tell me. You know that, right?”

“No, it’s— you’re not doing anything wrong, it’s just—“ you sigh, sniffling a little. “Feel like I don’t deserve this.” you pause, eyes quickly darting his way and back. “Like I don’t deserve you.”

Steve’s facial expression contorts into one of worry and confusion in a matter of seconds. “Oh, baby… C’mere.”

He reaches out, wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders and pulling you flush to his chest. The warm scent of his cologne overtakes your senses, and you can’t help but feel comforted by it. His large hand rubs over your back, gently, soothingly, and he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Y’know, sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve you.” He mumbles against your hair.

You scoff; why would the Steve Harrington ever feel that way?

“Seriously, like,” he leans back a little, still holding you, “I used to be such an asshole. And you knew me back then, you’ve seen me during my worst times, when my ego was bigger than Hawkins itself, and you still decided I was worth your time. The fact that you stuck with me all that time, that really does count for something.”

You close your eyes to reminisce for a moment. He’s not entirely wrong, he was an asshole, but if anyone is the living proof that a person can change, it’s Steve.

He looks down at you, eyes full of love, glad to see you're starting to come out of your insecure cloud of thoughts.

"You know, even if you're not sick, you don't have to earn my affection."

Your head peeks out of the embrace he has you in, all curled up on his lap. Your eyes are a little glassy from almost crying, and though he hates seeing you sad like this, you do look so pretty.

"Yeah?" you ask, voice a little fragile.

"Yeah," he replies, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, "not now," peck, "and not ever."

You giggle softly, returning the gesture. The kiss deepens by the second, your lips melting together in what you could only describe as "getting lost in each other". And that's exactly what you do, because while his tongue slips past your lips and your fingers slide into his hair, you forget all about the sickness you'd been so tormented by.

Your eyes open suddenly, a soft gasp erupting from you as you pull away. "Wait, no-- no, I'm sick Stevie!"

He simply chuckles in return, pulling you in again before you can protest. "So what?" he mumbles against the plushness of your lips, "if I get sick, you'll take care of me too, right?"

"Duh," the tip of your nose rubs gently over his, "I'll make you chicken noodle soup and everything."

"Good, so," he shifts your positions, laying you down gently under him, your back flat onto the couch, "a bit of kissin' won't hurt."

You grin, the pure love and affection flooding your body making you forget all about being sick. "You're impossible, Harrington."

"You love it." He leans down to peck your lips once more.

"Yeah," your arms wind around him, "you got me there."

tag list ₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

@palmtreesx3 @inkluvs

#stevemath #aster writes stranger things #stranger things steve #steve stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington concept

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merakiui · 6 months

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thinking about fwb fics and even though i already wrote one for floyd (omegaverse fwb) i'd like to write one that's more fleshed out (like contractual codependency and tmdg).

azul's fwb was contractual and done out of a need for something (reader needed more resources for keeping ramshackle in good shape and azul wanted a convenient cover so drugging her with love potion would be seamless).

jade's fwb is defined by "you're not him, but you look like him and so it will do." he benefits from it because he gets to spend time with you and he uses your love for floyd to his advantage to get you to do things you'd never do with him.

for floyd's fwb fic i'm thinking,,,, ex-boyfriend floyd who becomes your rebound after your most recent (now ended) relationship with [insert twst character here]. part of me wants to make it jade for sibling rivalry antics, but then i also like the idea of it being someone from the basketball club. maybe you've dated everyone in the basketball club (everyone: jamil, ace, floyd) and you're back to who you began with initially: floyd. maybe you agree casual sex is fine because neither of you have feelings for the other, right? floyd's just in it to have fun and so are you. there's some sort of yandere to be found here... ;;;;; but then i love cheesy and fluffy romances. orz it is my greatest weakness, as is an angst-tinged romance.

i need to write floyd slowly realizing it's not just the horny grip that has him acting so goofy. he's genuinely in love with you and those feelings have stayed with him even after the two of you first broke up. i need him to realize the reason he gets so angry whenever he thinks about you with anyone else is because he's jealous and wants you all to himself; because he loves you and the thought of you being apart from him makes him shrivel with discomfort. i need him to be conflicted about the fwb because by mer standards the two of you would have been a mated pair already (because recurring fwb isn't a very common relationship dynamic in the sea. at least, not in the waters he's from).

i need him to know all of your favorites without faltering because when floyd likes something he commits it to memory and he really likes you. i need jamil and ace to be rooting for him in their own ways and maybe the lot of you can still be healthy friends despite being exes. :D i need azul and jade to scheme and push you closer to floyd so you can be more than his fuck buddy. maybe a little "kiss the eel" mischief in the mostro lounge. >:)

OHHHHHHH. perhaps that's it!!!!! azul's fwb was "no saying i love you." jade's is "don't let floyd find out we're doing this." and so maybe floyd's is all about no kissing because kissing makes it too real (in reader's opinion). the idea of floyd, who is so physical with his affections, having to withhold kisses (on the lips).......... aaaaaaaa he's going to go crazy...

but most of all, i want to write floyd fucking you in mer form because he never got the chance when the two of you were first dating because maybe he was worried he'd do something silly like admit his true feelings (also another thing he never got to tell you when you were dating). :O hmmmm,,,,, floyd wrestling with being "that silly guy who you sleep with every now and then" and actually wanting to be "that silly guy who is your forever and always." yummy!!!!!! he's so in love, but he's struggling to open up with raw, real feelings because he's so used to just being a goofy guy who never shows those sides of himself and he's not used to feeling vulnerable and and and and AAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!

i will file these ramblings away for potential future fics hehehehe.

#meraki mumbles #forgive how wild my ramblings are #as you can see i am plotting and outling as i write orz #i love fwb trope <3 i want to write it for many characters

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mrsnancywheeler · 1 month

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Okay the same reader as the fight one but imagine if someone in the band sees how much they fight and offers to take her off his hands…or goes to her about it

long blurb with mentions of drinking, drugs, smoking, and nsfw topics

me about to write another long ass blurb, but thinking about eddie pining after reader and always watching, thinking about how she could do so much better then billy fucking dunne

you're always fighting and leaving until billy calls you back or you get bored again so you show up. rarely is there apologies, sometimes he tells you that your his muse and he needs you around as some sort of half apology to say you're not replaceable with just any groupie. but you let it work on you because when things are good, they're good, he's kind, and loving, so sweet, but the bad is the worst it possibly could be. and for how you tell yourself you've always known he wouldn't pick you forever, wouldn't settle down and that you were okay with that, you just know you're lying to yourself. because when you find out that last fight you had where you stomped off afterwards and spent a couple of hours sitting in a diner crying, billy was busy getting sucked off my some other groupie, you think this might be your limit. for all you've said you'd never actually even dreamed of even looking at anyone else and the pain in your chest is so immense. it only gets worse as you listen to billy and the rest of the band perform some song her wrote about you, a confirmation of his feelings without him having to commit face to face with you. it makes your blood boil when he's singing about how regardless of everything he'll always pick you, always want you.

so when everyone finishes and he's smiling looking over at you with a, "so, what'd you think, baby?" and you pull out that slow clap you hope he knows he's done fucked up because the rest of the band sure does. and he doesn't ask if you're okay or look too concerned, just annoyed, scoffing slightly, "what now?"

"I think you're a liar and the whole thing is fucking bullshit!" You announce

"don't do this right now, we're trying to rehearse." his frustration only serves as fuel to your fire, and you look around the room to see the awkward glances around the room, eddie glaring holes into the back of billy's head.

"what? do you want me to say you did a great job, give you a kiss and hug, and then scamper off so some other girl can suck you off? is that what you want billy?"

"not right now. if you're not gonna sit there and do what you're good at, then get out of the studio. go spend some of your daddy's money, you'll get over it."

his dismissivness makes you want to scream. how dare he. why did you have to fall for someone like him? "like you've said, I'm sure you can find some other groupie to give you praise and attention. you're the fucking worst, billy."

you're storming out of the room, followed by his voice, "you're not the only pretty girl! one of so fucking many!"

you don't know how long you've spent sitting on the cold cement, back up against the building as you smoke a cigarette. trying desperately not to cry because you just want him to love you the way movies told you men loved. but this wasn't a movie, he was a fucking rockstar and you were in fact just another groupie who he was sick of. the way you wanted to cry was embarrassing and you quick wiped away any stray tears when you heard footsteps approaching.

"mind if I join you?" and there was eddie, trying to give a comforting smile. you shook your head and he sat down, your offered him a cigarette which he took, for a while it was silent. "you deserve better."

you laughed, "yeah, maybe." no, you knew you did, but you didn't want better. you were too attached to billy dunne. "did he call some kind of break or did you just storm out? bet he'd love that."

eddie chuckled, he loathed billy, so the latter would've been just fine with him. "called a break." you thought about how right now billy was probably busy getting fucked by some other girl, some other groupie who had patiently waited her turn. you didn't mean to sniffle, but you did. suddenly eddie's lips were on yours, you wanted to lean into the soft, loving comfort but you couldn't. it felt wrong.

"eddie-" you muttered as you pulled away.

"he doesn't see you like I do, you deserve to be treated so much better, and he's stupid for not being able to see that. just because he's the lead singer doesn't mean you have to be stuck as his groupie, especially when he treats you like you're disposable."

"eddie, I can't do that to him. it's wrong."

"he does everything he can with other girls except fucking them, you're allowed to have something."

"well, I'm just me and he's billy goddamn dunne."

"he's just billy dunne, and you're strong, perseverant, beautiful, funny, compassionate, the whole damn package." you snort through the laughter which makes him smile, and you feel bad because he's sweet, you like him, but you've had a taste of billy and are desperately trying to hold onto ship. "he's too lucky, let me give you what you deserve-"

"what's going on?" billy's voice interrupts the rest of eddie's speech that you honestly might have fallen for, if you focused on the actually being able to constantly feel appreciated by some someone. eddie glares at the other man.

"we're talking." you say softly as billy walks closer. he holds a hand out to you expectantly.

"come inside with me, baby. let's talk in private." eddie's eyes are urging you to refuse, to stay with him, but you don't heed the look. so you take billy's hand a and let him lift you off the ground.

and it's hard to miss the way eddie gazes at you after the that, the way he comforts you post arguments and reminds you not to take it to heart, and you feel bad that the way you burn for billy is a forest fire compared to the way you burn for eddie. and he spends his days waiting for you to realize billy was never worth the struggle and to have him instead.

@nomorespahgetti

#wanda 💋#finnick odair x reader #billy dunne x reader angst #billy dunne angst #billy dunne x reader #billy dunne #djats x reader #eddie roundtree #anon

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soulfulazrael · 2 months

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I think the Vs being in the same season as Heaven was such a massive error. Seriously they barely showed up and the stakes got fucked because honeslty what threat do the Vs actually pose? Charlie herself could probably bitch slap them and even if she didn't want to, she could cry to her daddy and have Lucifer to do it and then shred Angel's contract in a paper shredder. They already sent Heaven packing, the Vs themselves don't pose a threat and would need some other op villain to prop them up(Probably Eve or Roo or whatever).

Like all Vox did was get pissy at Alastor and for some reason has a crush on him? Like this just feels like fan service for shippers? Like can we just have people be rivals? And Velvette sang. Val is the only who did anything and even then, it doesn't really go anywhere because they shove this heaven stuff in at the same time.

Yeah. I think this is the example of how little patience Viv had when it comes to Hazbin Hotel. Yes. She had no clue if she was gonna get Season 2, but she should have adapted and instead of shoving everything into one season she should have tried to make season 1 feel like a cohesive and well done story that has a beginning, middle and end. Treat it like a one season series like Over The Garden Wall where while she cannot put all of her ideas into it she can put in some of them and give them time necessary for them to be developed into something great.

To me they should have cut MOST of the plot lines and put in maybe only Angel Redemption where you can focus on it. Let this one idea be focused on and be well developed. Let it be the overarching goal of the season. Redeeming your first sinner and make it feel impactful so even if you do not have a season 2 you still have one cohesive story with beginning, middle and end that can end on an impactful and hopeful note as you explore what it means to redeem someone and feel the weight of redemption when it finally happens. You can explore in depth the most important element of the story, the thing that this story is build upon and what the titular Hotel is all about. Redemption. Through that you can delve into Angel's character, show his flaws and issues that he has to overcome, sins he committed in life he has to atone for and get over and people that he hurt through them. Delve into this idea and explore it as much as you can and when redemption happens you know how much it takes to redeem someone and what it means. And then if you DO get Season 2 you can show this happen a lot faster with more sinners and that would lead to sense of progression around which you can write more drama. Maybe with Charlie who may be getting more and more conflicted as she sees people she grows to care about go away.

Also this allows you to take more time with character interactions. Make them more varied. Maybe through trying to get this one person redeemed you can have everyone contribute in their own way where you can either learn more about them, Angel or both and around that can be made unique interactions between ALL of the characters and it lets you explore more of the hotel which helps you care about it. And it also can lead you to introduce more characters, but those would be all centered around this story and one goal, making it make sense and be cohesive when they show up. It would immensely help with character interactions which are LAUGHABLY sparse as characters barely interact with one another besides the ship pairs like Vaggie and Charlie or Husk and Angel where neither of those even have much of a chemistry at all and require the audience to already be invested in those. Which makes the entire cast feel very shallow. Not to mention that we barely spend any time at the hotel and we see barely any location inside it besides the main hall so when it finally is broken we feel nothing as we barely got to know that location. And it's fixed in ONE song. That's not how you do it. Think about it. All of those emotional beats. First redeemed sinner. Death of Pentious. Death of Dazzle. Destruction of the Hotel. Appearance of Heaven. All of it feels WEAK as none of those ideas were given proper time and so they are barely noticeable. And that was the ONLY chance Viv had at doing those. And she wasted them on this rushed season.

And let me tell you. If I had a choice between putting all of my ideas into one story and almost all of them being underdeveloped and bad in execution or putting fewer ones and letting them be developed into something great then I choose the latter. People may not see all of my ideas, but those they will, they will remember and looked back at fondly. Something I DO NOT think will happen with this.

My idea for seasons of this series would be like this:

Season 1 - redeeming first Sinner who is Angel Dust and main villain is Val. Exploration of Angel and many other characters through trying to get him to achieve redemption where each character gets explored as they try to help out in their own way and either you learn more about Angel or a member of the cast. Ends on Angel ascending and Val beaten and killed by other Vees who in this version may be abused by him and they end up being antagonists of next season.

Season 2 - Other 2 Vees become antagonists as Charlie is now redeeming far more sinners, but she starts to grow weary as she realizes she will be alone eventually which Alastor also exploits to corrupt her. Ends on maybe Velvette being killed as Vox himself may find a way to also attain more power and Charlie becomes more corrupted and destroys a lot of her work while Alastor regrets his actions.

Season 3 - Dealing with Vox and fixing Charlie. Heaven is now being more hinted at and Lucifer himself is now far more involved (who is not as positive character as in the show). Eventually leads to Heaven getting closer as Hotel stops working during this time and population increases again.

Season 4- Heaven and Hell in conflict as everyone tries to fix their mistakes. Maybe ends with both Heaven and Hell now rejecting the main crew as maybe at the end Hazbin Hotel becomes actual Purgatory where sinners can be judged when they die. Abandoned by both Hell and Heaven Charlie and those who remain can forge their own paradise and their own purpose beyond Mandates of Heaven and Cruelty of Hell.

Just an idea

#hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critique #hazbin hotel critical #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #vivziepop #hazbin hotel rewrite

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chaithetics · 9 months

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Lean on My Arm as You Break My Heart

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader (GN or fem) Word count: 2.9K Chapter/content warnings: 18+ MDNI! Angst, pining, previous established relationship, mentions of a wound, steamy kissing (I think that's it). A/N: this is my first time writing for Matt! I adore him and so many writers have done brilliant pieces for him so I'm pretty anxious. I had this idea come to me after listening to Mitski and part of it is influenced by her song 'I Don't Smoke' which just has angsty relationship vibes. I do plan to write more for Matt and for those fics to be better (definitely some fluff I do think of myself as more of a fluff writer, I really struggle with angst). I'd really love feedback! As always comments, reblogs, asks etc. are more than welcome.

Matt knows you’re home, he can hear your distinct heartbeat that’s committed to memory. He’d be able to single it out in any crowd as well. He also knows that you’re awake, you always were. While your insomnia hadn’t been the most practical for your life, it had been extremely convenient during your relationship.

He knocks on your bedroom window, it’s no longer kept unlocked for him. He remembers when it always was at night for when he'd go on patrols, he wonders when that stopped and when you started locking him out.

You hear the knock and it startles you, causing you to jump and drop your book in bed. You know it's him. You haven't spoken or seen each other in close to two months but who was counting? You sadly were.

You stayed frozen in your bed, wondering if the knock was a figment of your imagination as you felt like you were spending your days waiting for him to come back. It wouldn't work out, you knew that. But the thought was more than enough for your pining heart. You waited a few more seconds, if it really was him maybe he'd just go. The locked window was a hint he could pick up on surely.

Maybe he'd think you're asleep or that you're not home. He knew you were there, he heard your heart beat and he heard it spike when he'd knocked. He knocks again and he hears your sigh.

You get out of bed and walk over to the window, you pause for a second before deciding to open the curtains. You see Matt and can't help but sharply inhale. You knew it would be him on the other side but it still somehow hurts even more than you expected. The thought of him had been enough to burn the flame bright but seeing him and having him mere inches away with only a thin window of glass separating you both was doing so much more for that flame.

He doesn't knock, he just stays there, perched on the fire escape, he heard your feet and the curtain open. You hadn't opened the window yet though. He's still devilishly handsome, even in that suit that ended up separating you and obscures the face of your Matt.

"Go." It's a single syllable. A single word. It's the most you could get out without losing all dignity, you want to say more but you don't trust yourself.

Matt notices the falter in your voice, it's not cold and cruel but it's a noticeably colder tone than you'd ever spoken to him in before. He taps the glass of the window gently with his finger.

"Please?" He asks, it's soft, almost too quiet. You can't say no to him. You wonder if Matt still knows that, if it's what he's thinking and why on earth did he come here? And why tonight?

You bite your lip and nod to yourself as you silently unlock the window and then open it, taking a couple of steps back as he climbs through. He's graceful and swift as ever but it's clear that he's injured himself based on his balance and gait. The landing wasn't the best Daredevil one you'd ever seen.

"What happened?" You ask.

"It's fine, just a few cuts." It's quick, dismissive of his pain as always. It almost takes you back to when you both were a couple and this was the regular night life.

"I'll go get the kit." You respond quickly as you watch him, it's conflicting having him back here.

"You still have it." He's flattered and he's hoping for anyway in. He misses you and he can live in denial a bit longer, let the fuse short circuit again in another month if you'll let him.

"It's just- it's just practical." You say flatly, he nods with a slight smirk that you don't see as you turn. "There's some of your clothes in the bottom drawer if you want to change." You say it quickly, feeling butterflies in your stomach as you speak. You quickly walk off to avoid seeing his reaction, you can't face it so you make your way to the bathroom to get the first aid kid that had been generously stocked with everything he'd ever need that you'd used in bandaging him up a million times before.

As you're gone he makes his way to the dresser, he's kind of surprised that you still kept some of his clothes folded neatly in your dresser. There's nothing of yours in that drawer, he wonders why it's so isolated, is it to not cross-contaminate the scents? He wouldn't mind wearing a reminder of you after so long.

He pulls a pair of sweatpants out and puts them on and then finds a t-shirt, he'll put it on afterwards. He has a cut across his chest so there's no point in putting it on.

Matt sits on the bed after changing, resting his hands on the sheets. They've been washed and changed since he last slept in them but he can still tell from the scent and texture, they're the same sheets he'd slept in with you once upon a time. That he'd kissed you in, made love to you in, recovered in and held you in. There's something comforting in that, he closes his eyes and if he tries hard enough he can pretend this is just an ordinary night. That nothing had changed.

"Couch please." It's too domestic, too normal and too tempting to have him sitting on that bed that you shared with him for so many nights and mornings. The fact that he's shirtless doesn't help either, it wasn't purely physical with Matt, it was a deep emotional connection as well but the physical chemistry and attraction had never been deficient. Having him here but not was an ache deep in your soul, one you can feel in your bones, just for him.

You could kiss him. He's taken the mask off now, you could run your fingers through his hair. And you could kiss him till you couldn't think about anything but his lips. It's too easy to fall into the same patterns. You know that and you won't let yourself get hurt again. You just hope the couch won't lead to so many temptations.

He makes his way to the couch quietly, it surprises you, you'd expected some quip in response, a tease. But there isn't one and you don't know what to make of it. You don't know why he's here, it's just delaying the inevitable and suffering again.

He sits on the couch, his head is tilted down, you don't know why. Is it out of guilt? Sadness? Pain? You sit on the couch next to him, your bodies facing each other with only mere inches in between them. It would be so easy to break the distance, crawl into his lap and melt into his embrace.

You shake your head slightly to break the thoughts, your eyes scan down to his pale chest where you see the bleeding cut. It's a few inches long but it surprisingly doesn't look too deep.

"Is it okay if I touch it?" You ask softly, his head tilts up for a moment at the sound of your voice. Then he nods, his head tilts down again with a small blush as you start to clean the wound.

In a normal relationship this should've phased someone but it didn't, you had become somewhat desensitized to how bizarre the situation and occurrence of it was somewhere along the lines. Definitely earlier in the timeline than not. He grimaced a little as you touch the wound to clean it.

"You're going to die before you can even consider retiring from your day job." You say quietly but sternly as a response. You're too tired to have a filter.

"Sweetheart, I think that one's on capitalism and anyway-"

"Don't." You cut him off with a sigh as you rub your temple, trying to school your emotions. "You know what I mean Matty."

He hums in response with a small, dry chuckle. The tone you have upsets him but the fact that you still call him Matty melts him a bit. It's what he needed. You don't get how he could find this funny or amusing.

You sigh and start to bandage the cut now that it's been cleaned, out of habit your fingertips gently dance along the pale skin of his pec for a moment careful not to touch the wound. It's muscle memory and your cheeks heat up at what you've just done.

It's taken Matt back, his heart skips a beat and he smiles at the sensation, you start to move your hand away and he frowns at that. He swiftly catches your wrist in his hand before you get the chance to completely pull it back. His grasp is firm but gentle, it sends a shiver up your spine.

"You know, I'm stronger than you give me credit for." You whisper. You don't know if it's a challenge, its something you say with numerous potential meanings waiting waiting be analyzed. He definitely had more manpower than you and you had no intention of challenging his hold as you both anxiously awaited the other's next move. The tension was thick enough that you could cut it with a knife.

"Matty." You whisper softly after swallowing, Matt's had people call him that his whole life, he should be used to it but nobody says it like you do. His name sounds so different and so right when coming from your lips. He brings your wrist closer to his face, you can feel his breath on your wrist for a millisecond before he kisses it.

The kiss is gentle but extremely hungry. It's always what Matt does, he kisses the parts of you that he finds delicate. The details, the parts of you that other lovers would ignore, wouldn't even think of. It's all in the details for Matt.

He kisses you like he hasn't had a meal in months, has he been touch-starved like you have since you parted? Is he as lonely as you've felt, was this a desperate plea for a bit of attention? Connection? Love…? His lips burn across your skin and you let out a little whimper.

"Matthew."

He stops, it's the fact that you've used his full first name. He knows that he came here on a wild chance. But he'd missed you and felt so empty without you, without you in the same bed as him when he did sleep. Those meaningless but smile-inducing, day-brightening texts throughout the working day. He needed this, he could live in what you'd call denial that maybe you two could work it out. He didn't know but he needed it, he needed to believe it tonight.

"Is this what you need? To be mean?" He asks, gently letting go of your wrist.

"I'm not being mean- I'm trying to be practical here Matt." He was making you feel so many things and you didn't know what to do with any of them, with each breath and moment you looked at him you felt more and more of your self control slipping away.

Some part of Matt knows that you're not being mean. You weren't a mean person and you especially never were a mean person to him. Sure you hadn't ended on the happiest, most amicable of terms but that was just how it was for him. It only feels mean because you're being distant, you're not as welcoming and loving as you normally are. You have these boundaries that are preventing you two from going back to how you were a few months ago. He needs that, he needs you and you need him but you don't need the pain.

"Because fine, if you need to be mean. I-I can take it. Just please?" He says, his eyes are glassy, you think you spot some unshed tears there and it's crumbling away at your walls more. You watch him like you're seeing him for the first time, or maybe the last. It could be either, you're not sure.

You bite your lip as you put a hand to his cheek, his short stubble prickles against your hand, you haven't felt that in so long and you can see him relax so much just at that sign of affection. The tension is melting off of him.

You slowly move your hand down so it now sits on his shoulder and before you can even think of what to say to him his lips are on yours. For a millisecond it's surprisingly gentle and then it's a desperate clash. Your fingers thread through his hair and then tug as you feel him bite your bottom lip. His hand finds itself onto the small of your back and he pushes you into his lap so you're now straddling his waist.

His kisses are hungrier than what his mouth was when it was kissing your wrist before. He's starved and it feels like he's desperate to consume you. Each moment that his lips are on yours is making up for a moment when they weren't. His mouth works to your jaw and then down along your neck, it's messy, sloppy and desperate.

It feels so right but you know it only will while it lasts but you can't tell him to stop because you don't want to. You'll hate yourself for it in the morning though, you know that for certain.

Why couldn't this work out? Matt was perfect in almost every way. He was sweet, intelligent, witty, handsome, he had a respectable day job. Day job. Everybody who met him was instantly charmed. If it just wasn't for damn Daredevil you thought. It has started to get too much, Matt was becoming more reckless, restless, obsessive and you could see him spiraling. Everything had become unpredictable. You'd never wanted him to give it up but it got to a stage where he was too distant and it had become too much.

"You know I love you right?" He asks as he presses a kiss to the top of your shoulder, you close your eyes wishing reality to go away as you thread your fingers through his hair.

"Matt." You whisper out silently.

"I miss you." His voice is more raw when he says it but then he sucks on your neck, stealing out a moan. If you were in your right mind right now you'd wonder if it was to distract from the emotion he was letting out.

"I miss you too but-"

"We can make it work, we're good together." It was true, throughout your relationship you had been good together. Your loved ones had wondered why it hadn't worked out, he'd always been so perfect and doting and you couldn't tell anyone the real reason why.

"But-"

"We'll find a way." He says and you don't say anything.

No matter what you say, your heart will just crumble some more and you don't need anymore heartbreak tonight. You're not sure if you're heart could deal with shedding any more tears for Matt Murdock.

Your hands leave his hair and he groans at that, they move to his cheeks and you bring his face up from his neck and kiss him again. Equally hungry to his earlier kisses. His lips taste metallic and slightly chapped. But it's a taste that's dizzying and he meets you with equal fervour.

Maybe you should give it another chance, it feels so right being in his lap with his lips on yours, your teeth and tongues clashing together, spending the early hours of a weekday on the couch like this.

You continue to kiss and tug on his hair as his arms wrap around you. Maybe the desperation is just so tangible.

"It hurt me a little that the window was locked sweetheart." He admits as he breaks away for a second to catch his breath before crashing back to your mouth, his arms are still wrapped around you and one hand snakes down to squeeze your hip.

“Give. It. Up.” You pant out in between kisses.

You're both too desperate but you don't regret saying it. He just kisses you, he won't. He never would and he never will. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't respond but you know the answer. His silence is an answer and it's a loud enough one.

You might regret this in the morning but right now, you don't care although that's a lie as you feel pain over his silent answer. It just makes the kisses desperate and sloppier.

Once you're done with each others bodies on that couch, the couch you had hoped would avoid a situation like this from occurring you sigh. You wonder if he thinks you're breaking his heart or what he even thinks of you right now. But you just sit there on that couch together, and as he leans against your arm with his head resting on your shoulder, he's just breaking your heart.

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Tags: @thornbushrose

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