#part of me has truly felt like it could fix everything in my family's lives & then the other part is like 'lmao WHAT' like i don't know shit

[bingbongsupremacy]

Lonely Pt. 1

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader Zombie Apocalypse AU

Warnings:

Summary: A few days after the zombie apocolypse took over Hawkins you lost everyone. Once you finally run out of supplies, you're forced to venture out into the town, hoping not to run into anyone and make it to safety alive. Unfortunately, life doesn't always go how you want it.

*Not Proof Read*

This Fic does not mention body type, weight, race, gender, etc. If I happened to mess up and add a pronoun or anything that could define the readers appearance, please let me know so I can fix it. Ty!

ABC List Stranger Things Master List

*****

People are evil. They truly. When things get rough the worst parts of us tend to leak out. Maybe it's from fear, maybe it's from adrenaline. Whatever it is, the worst parts of us tend to leak out, forever changing us.

Three days after the virus hit Hawkins my family was killed. A group of blood thirsty survivors tore through my parents' house, killing everyone. Well almost everyone.

I managed to get out. I'm not sure how, but I did. I ran until my lungs hurt. Until I felt like I would die if I kept going.

Flashes of Jason Carver, the athlete turned cold blooded survivalist leader, killing my parents running through my mind. The lack of emotions sent shivers down my spine. How can someone take the life of another and not feel anything? Not feel guilty or disgusting. Somehow the previous three days turned the cocky pretty boy into an emotionless killer.

The personality change is terrifying.

I managed to find a house away from the inner heart of Hawkins. Away from the people. Thankfully, whoever lived there left behind a good amount of food and water.

Unfortunately, food and water can only last so long. I knew this day would come. The day where surviving off of the pantries of nearby homes wouldn't be possible anymore.

Frankly, I'm not sure how I've made it 6 months on my own. I still struggle to kill the zombie things out there. I hide away whenever they come out, hoping they don't hear me move around.

I tuck the last few remaining bits of food into my backpack before pulling the heavy pack onto my shoulders. I do one last sweep around the house, making sure I have everything I need.

I tightly grip onto the kitchen knife in my hand. Hopefully I don't run into a hoard. There's no way in hell I could survive if I do.

I close the front door of the house I've been borrowing for the past half a year. I feel anxiety bubble up in my stomach. I'm scared. I can't deny it. What if I get bitten? Or kidnapped by Jason Carver's pack of assholes?

I have no choice.

The sound of crunching leaves beneath my feet and wind are the only sounds I hear as I step onto empty street. It's silent, the way it has been for months. The last time I heard something was when a small group of zombies wandered through the the neighborhood, managing to somehow stumble into every garbage can possible.

Any sign of human life is gone. The lack of animals is terrifying. Is everything dead? What if I'm the only person alive.

Will I be alone forever?

It's been hard being alone for so long. There's not much you can do when you're by yourself with no access to electricity or running water.

I never thought I'd say this, but I miss my fucking job. At least there I got to talk to people, even if it was a forced greeting.

I finally make it out of the neighborhood. Even though I haven't been this far out in months, I remember every road. I know exactly how to get to the center of town.

There has to be some place with food, right? There's no way Jason Carver could have gotten absolutely everything.

As I pass another neighborhood, I immediately spot the smashed in doors. Windows are shattered and belongings from inside and thrown around the yard. People have raided here.

In a weird way it gives me some sort of hope. Maybe there are people besides Jason and his friends that are alive. Maybe they'll help me.

Not everyone can be evil, right?

Not everyone is a murderer.

A few cars litter the roads, rotting people sitting inside. Some have turned and others are still, their bodies decomposing.

I finally make it to the entrance of main street. All of the surrounding buildings are smashed in. I pass a four car crash in the center of the road, dried blood staining all around.

The loud sound of groans fills my ears. A shiver runs through my back.

There's a zombie somewhere out here.

I turn onto a nearby street and immediately regret my decision. Dozens of zombies wander around the street.

" Fuck. " I mumble, fear crawling it's way towards my throat.

The heads of the zombies snap towards me, their dead grey eyes piercing into my body like a knife.

They have fucking super hearing or some shit. I'm fucked. I'm fucked.

I quickly turn to run down the street. The sounds of shuffling feet follows behind me. They're not super fast, but there's no way I'd be able to run for miles with them behind me. If I stop running they'd easily catch up.

Clenching the knife in my hand, I run as I fast I can off of main street. Maybe I can make it back to the house? Fuck fuck!

Fuck me. The side road is blocked by another group of zombies. My old neighbors, people I used to talk to every day, quickly turn their hungry eyes on me.

I'm so screwed.

I have two fucking hoards behind me.

I turn onto another street, hoping there's not another group on this street.

I'm so caught up in panic that I don't register the sound of a speeding car and gun shots.

A brown and white van speeds in front of me. The door opens as it quickly halts to a stop a few feet in front of me.

" Get in! " The man yells. His eyes trained on the group behind me. In his hands is a large shot gun.

I hesitate. What if this guy fucking kills me?

" Earth to girl, get in the fucking van! " Another man in the drivers seat yells, shooting the pistol in his dirty hands.

Fuck it, being killed by them might hurt less than being eaten alive.

I scramble into the van, immediately noticing the pile of tools and weapons laying around.

The man at the van door slams it shut. He clutches onto the back of the passenger seat in front of him as the driver speeds down the street. He turns his attention to me, immediately raising his gun towards me when the van stops jumping around.

I push myself against the van wall, fear coursing through my veins. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I should've just gotten eaten. " Please don't hurt me! " I keep the knife in front of me, hoping it'll help somehow.

Who am I kidding, a fucking knife won't save me from shit.

" Drop the knife. " The man grunts. His face is covered by a short beard. His long frizzy hair is tied back into a bun, his head covered with a battered hat. A small scar runs down the left side of his face, near his eyebrow. His eyes look familiar but I can't quite place it.

Deciding it's probably best if I listen, I carefully set down the knife. " Okay, okay. " My breath is shaky.

" Check for bites. " The guy up front barks, glancing back at us from the rear view mirror. His skin is covered in splotches of dirt and grime, his eyes are covered with a pair of dark sunglasses. His hair however, reminds me of someone; Steve Harrington. It's neatly put up, only a few stray strands framing his face.

I don't have time to question the looks of the man up front before the guy holding a shotgun speaks to me.

" Show me your arms and legs. "

I don't hesitate to shrug off my bag and jacket. I pull up the ends up my sleeves, turning my arms back and forth before pulling up my jeans. I let out a small wince when I notice a large gash on my ankle. I have no idea where I got this. Maybe I scraped it against something? "

" Where did you get that? " The shotgun man asks, nodding down to my leg.

" I have no idea. I had no idea I was bleeding. "

" Tie them, E. " The man up front says nonchalantly.

My eyes widen. " What? But I haven't been bitten! I swear to god, I haven't been bitten. I-I'll take everything off and show you! " I offer, terrified about what these men are going to do to me.

Guilt flashes in the shot gun holding guys' eyes. " Look, until we know you're not dangerous or infected, we can't take any risks. If you're clear, you'll be out of this in no time. " The guy pulls a handful of zipties from his pocket. " Please give me your hands. "

I hesitantly hand his my hands, seeing no way out of this.

The guy quickly ties my hands and ankles before putting anything sharp in my reach in a locked box. He pulls a small red bag out of the box and scoots towards me.

I try to scoot further into the corner of the van, tucking my arms into my body.

The guy notices. " I'm not going to hurt you. " He pulls out a Band-Aid. " I'm gonna clean your cut up. If it's not infected with the virus, it's going to get infected by some other shit. The last thing you need is an fucked up leg. " His tone is slightly softer than it was a few minutes ago.

I allow him to take a look at my ankle. His cold hands pull my ankles onto his lap before he begins cleaning up my cut. The anti bacterial wipe stings but not bad enough to cause me to wince.

" Good news is it's not deep. Probably a branch or wire that scraped you. "

I take this opportunity to study the mans face. Small dark bags rest under his brown eyes. Over grown bangs droop past his eyes, pushes aside by him every once in a while.

Up closer I notice the shirt he's wearing. It's covered in dirt and blood, making it nearly impossible to tell it was once white. My eyes trace the familiar design. The Hellfire Club.

I was never apart of it, but I'd heard of it. I'd thought about joining back in high school but I was too scared. I worried they wouldn't let me play since I'd be the only girl in the group or think I wasn't good enough to join. I let my fears get the best of me.

" Eddie Munson? " I ask, my eyes looking up at the mans' face.

His eyes meet mine, widening in confusion. " Yeah? "

A little bit of relief fills my chest. I was never friends with Eddie, but I'd worked on a couple of assignments with him growing up. He was always kind and for the most part, did his part of the project. I'm not exactly sure why he got held back. He was smart, he just didn't seem to want to put in the hard work needed to graduate. It was like he didn't believe in himself.

" I'm Y/N. You probably don't remember me, it was so long- " I'm cut off by him.

" From world civ! " His lips curl into a small smile. " I remember you. "

My heart jumps a little. I'd always had a small crush on the dark haired boy. He was one of the reasons I wanted to join Hellfire. He'd talk about it sometimes during our projects, making it sound so fun.

" Is that Steve Harrington? " I ask, glancing to the driver.

" It's me. " Steve replies, his eyes not leaving the road. " Sorry, I don't think I remember you, Y/N. "

I nod. " I was 3 years older than you so we never really crossed paths. " I feel slightly more safe knowing I at least semi know the people I'm with. " Did we lose the zombies? "

" Yeah we lost them a while back. " Steve nods, his eyes glancing back at the rear view mirror every once in a while. " We're going to need to stop for gas soon, Eddie. "

" Fuck. " Eddie sighs. " Of course we are. "

" Should've filled the tank up when I told you. " Steve rolls his eyes.

Eddie finishes bandaging up my ankle before gently fixing the positioning of the ties around it. " I was busy grabbing bullets. "

The van pulls to a stop and Steve shuts off the engine, making sure to take the keys out of the ignition. " Grab the tube. "

Eddie grabs a small bag. A small tube pokes out of the top of it, quickly disappearing when Eddie shoves it down. " We'll be back. " He reassures me before opening the back doors and jumping out.

I quietly lean against the van wall.

" Let's just cut them free. " Eddie's voice is muffled slightly .

" No fucking way, Eddie. I know you know them, but we still have to follow protocol. We keep them tied for at least a week. Until we know they aren't infected. Besides, we don't even know if they're dangerous. They could slit our fucking throats and steal our supplies. " Steve's voice is stern.

Eddie sighs. " They wouldn't do that. I know they would- "

" When was the last time you saw them, Eddie? High school? It doesn't sound like you guys were friends when they graduated. I'm pretty sure you'd be able to recognize them faster if you were. " Steve points out.

" Well, yeah but they're a good person. They wouldn't do that shit. " Eddie defends me, making my heart jump a little.

My stupid fucking crush is back.

" It's been years Eddie. You don't know them. It's been 6 months since shit hit the fan. People change, especially after all the crap that's been going on. They probably aren't the same person they were years ago. Look, nobody's going to hurt them. We just have to keep the ties on until with get back to the lab. "

Eddie gives up arguing. The two return and Eddie tosses the bag on top of the tool box. The van slightly fills with the scent of gasoline as Eddie and Steve close the doors. The source being the tube.

Steve rolls down the front windows, letting air filter through the van.

Eddie sits across from me, his shot gun next to him. " We're going to help you. " He reassures me. " We just can't risk that you aren't infected. As soon as we're sure you can get those off. " He glances down at the zip ties.

I nod. " I understand. Thank you for saving me. "

Eddie smiles. " Of course. Couldn't just let you die out there. " He leans back against the van wall, crossing his arms. " We've got a bit of a ride, sit back and relax. "

#fanfiction #fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington x plus size reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanart #stranger things #x reader #x female reader #x plus size reader #x chubby reader #x you #x y/n

[neverluckygoldfish]

52 -

The past two months have felt like a blur, stuck in a vicious cycle of relapse, recovery, relapse, recovery, and so on.

It’s been really fucking tough. I’ve felt like a zombie. Sometimes it feels like this is all life is, a weary merry-go-round until we die.

But after falling down 800 times and still getting back up on that 801st try - I’m in a much better place.

And I’m not beating myself up about it. Shit happens, we fall down. Sometimes we fall down and stay down because we’re so fucking tired of having to get back up.

I watched a looootttt of movies with happy endings as a kid. I did a lot of things alone and I never really noticed how much that influenced my way of thinking and my approach to life. I guess that’s where I started to believe that I had to live two lives. Because who I really am - my family didn’t like. As a woman of color, of immigrant parents, and growing up in a predominantly white neighborhood - I never felt like I found my place. I didn’t belong at home and I definitely didn’t belong in the outside world.

So we take that first drink or the first hit to forget we feel that way inside. And we keep drinking and using to keep forgetting.

And it’s where I started to believe that one day everything will magically work out so I just have to keep holding on to be saved.

I’ve spent so much time ignoring my body that trying to be present in it now, as an adult, makes me feel like a fearful little kid. Anxiety feels scary because I never learned how to manage it.

Ignore all the problems until you’re almost 30 and have a bunch of substance abuse issues and no one to turn to because you can’t trust the people who were supposed to care for you.

I’m just so damn tired of caring. Caring what people think - am I being nice and kind and do they feel heard and god forbid any one ever thinks I have ill intentions….

So yeah, my attitude lately is to block out the noise & do whatever I want to do. Whatever I know is truly good for my soul.

So I started a weaving again and have made some yummy food and am getting in a lot of snuggles with my dog. Also I listen to new music and take in the sunset. I take a long bath and put on my expensive lotion that’s saved for a special occasion because every day is a special occasion now that I am CHOOSING to be alive.

I realized I like having little projects. So I’ve been assigning myself shit to try because I’m interested in it. And that’s enough of a reason for me.

Isn’t the whole point of life to experience? And when you boil it down to that core, what really separates us from each other if we are all in it for the experience?

Am I sounding crazy?? Because I‘be never felt more enlightened and grounded in my sense of things.

Holy shit, it all makes sense now.

Or maybe this is all just one psychotic episode waiting to break loose. Lol. Hopefully not.

I’ve decided I don’t need some big overarching life goal - that I’m totally fine with going with the flow. I don’t need to have all the answers. In fact, forcing myself to think that way has actually cemented this “not good enough” belief.

Because when I think back as a kid and getting lost in the present - I was happy. I used to get lost in entertaining myself for hours. And the world (or my world) told me that was wrong. I wasn’t doing it correctly.

But I’m fine the way I am. You know? Like imagine if we could roll the tape back to before we ever started to hate ourselves or constantly try to “fix” our lives - how did we approach the world before everything was clouded by this inherent sense of “not good enough”.

It’s kind of jarring to realize that people don’t automatically think and know the worst parts of me and judge me by it.

It’s kind of jarring to realize that nobody really is that bothered by me. I’m feeling okay taking up my little space in the world.

I’m ready to care for that little girl who has felt so scared and uncomfortable all these years.

In some ways, I’ve never felt more free.

#self love #higher self #mental health #healing #recovery #sobriety #healing journey #addiction recovery #spiritual growth #alcoholism #depression recovery #self improvement #inner peace #nurture your inner child

[heavenlyakin]

Ken Ryuguji x Reader

Minors DNI

barely edited so be nice to me. here’s some short vignettes of some draken content (angst) that’s been in my head but I can’t manage to put together a whole fic. It’s inspired by “Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman.

cw: unrequited love, implied emotional cheating, implied family issues.

——

His first touch felt like warm water rushing over your skin, spreading and soaking you to your core. It was everything you ever needed to feel with someone else. His arm heavy around your shoulders, his grin mesmerizing. The wind blowing your hair everywhere seemed to disappear as you looked into his eyes and felt safe for the first time in years.

“Where do you want to go?” He asked, his voice as beautiful as the song on the radio.

“Anywhere,” you answered truly meaning it. You’d follow him to the ends of the earth.

—

The apartment was nothing to brag about but it was yours and his. Finally a home to calm your own and with the one you loved. It’d been talked about for a little over a year, something you both wanted. You’re saved every penny you could to afford the deposit and first months rent, now you just prayed you’d be able to keep it.

“What’s wrong, love?” Ken asks, picking up immediately on the stress you’re putting on yourself.

“Oh nothing, just wondering how we’ll afford this place.” You laugh, rolling your shoulders back to loosen the tightness that has built up over the last hour or so of worrying.

“We’ll manage it,” he kisses the top of your head, his fingers tangling in yours and pulling you closer. “We always do.”

—

“Just fix it, please! We need you!” Your sisters voice, cracking as she talks, continues to beg you.

“I just don’t understand what I can do from here, I’m so sorry.” You hang up before the guilt eats you alive.

“——-,” your name from Ken’s lips drags your attention away from your cell phone. Fuck, it’s 3 a.m.

You wipe your eyes and sniffle before turning to look at him. “I’m sorry I woke you up, it’s just… my sister. She called again. I’m scared for her,” you tell him.

He sits up, pulling you to his chest. “Shhh, it’s okay. You can’t save everyone, baby.”

—

Your eyes itch as you start to unlock the door to your apartment. You hear laughing as it opens and notice a group of guys and one blonde girl sitting on your couch. Your eyes narrow to see who everyone is but you give up. After picking up a double at work, you really can’t be bothered to scold him for having people over before asking you if it would be okay.

“Hey!” Mikey’s familiar voice greets you as you make int through the kitchen and into the living room.

“Hi,” softly you answer. “Ken, can I chat with you for a second?”

—

Not much has changed. Your sister is still calling you even though you’re halfway around the world and Ken can’t keep a job. You’ve been promoted at least and can take care of everything but it’s wearing on you.

As you’re thinking about him, he stumbles in the apartment, laughing as he picks his keys off the floor. You don’t react, just turning your tv show’s volume up a few notches. He ignores you, going straight to your bedroom and you turn the volume back down.

Your eyes well up, the smell of alcohol and perfume wafting in the apartment now. You don’t have the energy to ask where he’s been, honestly some small part of you is beginning to not care. You just can’t find it in you to ask him to leave yet.

#ken ryuguji #ken ryuguji x reader #ken ryuguji angst #Ken ryuuguji angst #ken ryuuguji x reader #tokyo rev angst

[sharlulu]

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

CONFESSIONS OF A SELFISH PERSON tw: violence, abuse, mention of drugs, confinement. Wolf Keum x fem!reader

You and him were so different. While he always appeared so free and careless, indifferent to the rules of the world, acting only on one's desires, you constrained yourself, chained down by the responsibilities and duties of an exemplary student and a responsible civilian. When did it start? Since when were you so obsessed with perfection? Since when did you strive to be so elegant? It was as if you had to have complete control over every inch of your body: from the tips of your fingers to every muscle of your back and face. You've taught yourself to speak eloquently, use complicated words, learn the art of subtle manipulation and persuasion. Yes, you've made elegance your sharpest weapon. It has become a part of you, a habit that couldn't be changed.

"My daughter, you won't disappoint me, won't you? Unlike that hateful man you would do anything for me, right? My dear, precious princess, you must always love me"

"Why? Why did you only get an 80 on your last test? It can't be that that's your highest potential, I know that you can do so much more! Then why? Why? Do you not care about me anymore? Do you not love me anymore? Didn't I tell you that as my daughter you have to be perfect? Or else why did I have to suffer so much just to give you a chance to live in this world?

I don't want to do this, I truly don't, Y/n. But it seems I should punish you a little bit. I've been too nice to you lately. How about this, I'll cut down your freedom and regulate your friendships more, alright? I am sure that you're like this because of their bad influence. After all, you had got a perfect score every single time before you met them. So listen to your mother, dear, I know what's best for you after all"

Is this love?

You've never met your father before, nor seen his face. Mother never mentioned his name either. She called him different titles: a hateful bastard, that man, unfaithful monster, horrendous sinner, a liar. Your mind thought of countless possibilities as to why your parents' relationship ended up so twisted and sick. Nonetheless, you were afraid to ask your mother, perhaps, in fear of losing her forever. She was your only family, so you loved her, that was natural, wasn't it? It was your duty to love her after all. But sometimes you hated her with every fiber of your being. That hate, however, had nowhere to pour out to. It stirred inside your locked box of emotions just waiting for an opportunity to burst out of its confinement.

It wasn't hard for you to study. Math came to you as easy as breathing. It was so strict yet flexible at the same time. It allowed you to describe the whole world. The "language of the universe" or so you liked to call it.  Perhaps the closest thing to perfection that you could possibly name. There was a certain beauty to it, something otherworldly, something so detached from the mundane.

You had a good memory. So good that you remembered everything you saw, read, heard. Even things you wanted to forget. There's no denying how useful that ability was to studying. Perhaps because of your intelligence mother took notice of you. She paid attention to you, even praised you at first.

Is this love?

Now that you think about it, she never saw you for who you were. She only saw a perfect daughter, a doll, a puppet to turn into what she could only dream of becoming. Your intelligence was the only thing that mattered to her. So her outburst about your imperfect score shouldn't  have come as a surprise. Yet you were still saddened. It felt as if your heart, which was already full of thousand wounds that you helplessly tried to fix with tiny plasters every night, was once again trampled on and broken into dust. Did you want her to console you? Comfort you, tell you that it was alright, treat you like a human being and not a genius for once? Perhaps. But she mercilessly cut away all threads of hope you had. You stood there in a trance, listening to her. Then you went out of the house to the streets. Aimlessly wondering about the desolate path. Where is everyone? Somebody? Please, I don't-

*Thump*

You turn to your left. A boy about your age was continuously hitting a vending machine. His violet ruffled hair swayed back and forth while he thrashed the poor  thing.

Wolf Keum. You've definitely seen him before, heard the rumors about him. But on that day you first interacted with him.

He was free. For that you envied him and admired him at the same time. How did he do that? Why didn't he give a damn about societal rules? How was he so honest to his desires, why was he so unrestrained by the world? Oh how jealous you were. Perhaps that's why there was no fear in you when you came up to him that day.  Enviousness and reverence were the only thing in your heart back then.

  "Could you please stop doing that?"

He looked at you incredulously. Yet no words left his mouth.

   "You are ruining public property and it's not getting you anywhere." A polite smile graced your lips.

   "If you paid for something and it got stuck there, I can help you get it out. Hitting the vending machine doesn't do anything to solve your  dilemma, don't you agree?"

His grey eyes scrutinized you for a moment and then he stepped away. "Do whatever you want " – it seemed to convey.

To be entirely honest, you weren't sure if your method would work. You squatted  down a bit and pushed the flap where people normally collected their items  at. Then you let the flap snap back down.  That was enough for his purchase to fall onto your hands. Standing back up,  you gave it to him.

 "There you go, no need to thank me~ But that's an old machine you've encountered. Newer machines are equipped with sensors  specifically to deal with this kind of problem. I wouldn't buy here anymore if I were you. There's no knowing whether something like this will happen again and what I did doesn't work all the time."

He still didn't say anything. Was he mute? No, that couldn't be true, he was Wolf Keum after all.

"I know. Thanks."

What a succinct answer.

 Was that a fateful encounter? You also lived nearby and took the same route to school. You just had to walk a tad longer than him, as your school was further.

You were the one who always approached him, striked conversations with him, tried to get him to talk or at least acknowledge your presence. If at first he was annoyed, then after a while he actually replied to you.

"Do you want to hear the music of space?"

"The hell is that?"

You chuckled at his inquiry.

"NASA created an instrument to hear sounds from space. I know, it sounds weird, outer space should be awfully quiet, right? Except it isn't. Sound does exist in magnetic vibrations. And the NASA team just converted it to a frequency that human ear can hear. Incredible, isn't it?"

"I have to listen to it first? Can't have an opinion on it, never heard of it before. How the hell do you even know that stuff?"

"Eh, internet is an interesting thing~"

At first you approached him just because of simple curiosity. However, your instinct told you to stay. And after a while you were finally starting to heal, feel alive and grateful for the chance to exist. However, your newfound salvation was as fragile as glass, bound to break at any moment.

Your relationship with him was definitely strange. Yet in his presence you were the most comfortable. You didn't mind that he always got into fights, you didn't mind that wherever he was, trouble always ensued. As long as you were with him, you could get a taste of his freedom, his world. In exchange you would help him get away from the consequences. Quite a balanced team you were. He who came up with ideas, you who thought out a plan, and both of you who would do some of the wildest things for fun. Being with him was liberating. He could listen to your talk, silently acknowledging you, ask  questions that made the gears in your brain turn. It was nice having someone to share all your knowledge with. Someone that never pretended to listen, someone that was genuinely interested. After all, Wolf Keum was honest to a fault.

"I've always wanted to ask you this," you begin on one of your regular walks.

He turned his attention to you.

"How do you curse so easily? How do you use those foul words without a second thought? How does it come as natural as breathing to you? When I try to do it, I suddenly become so conscious and awkward. As if  they don't suit me and rather than frightening they come of as bizarre?"

He laughed uncontrollably at that, while giving you a "are you serious" look.

"I asked a genuine question there! What's so funny in wanting to know more about your delinquent  lifestyle? It's true that I don't understand much about your way of doing things."

"Just don't overthink, I guess. Nothing else to it."

It was strange hearing that. As your existence was composed of carefully thought out and perfectly executed things. There wasn't a single moment when you didn't think about what you said or did.  As if you were always looking at yourself from afar, trying to find and fix all mistakes, no matter how small they were. And you liked that. You liked having a sense of purpose, a sense of responsibility. You liked walking with your back straight, head held high. You liked speaking articulately and confidently. You liked being able to convey your thoughts clearly while being refined. Elegance was beautiful and it was also one of your sharpest blades. Wolf knew that, so he found your attempts at behaving like a thug humorous.

　 *Slap*

It was the first time Mother hit you.

"You ungrateful brat! You say that you  go the library to study and yet what you do?! Hang out with a bastard? How could you lie to me like that?"

She was crying. Hot tears run down her cheeks and fell onto your bewildered face. It felt as if time itself stopped after her outburst.

She then dragged you, despite all your protests, to the basement of your house. Your muffled screams for help where shut away in a damp, dark room. It was terribly cold. For the first time in a while you felt genuine fear and hatred towards your mother. The box of rage that lay dormant for so long was once again threatening to open.

And yet you did nothing in the end. There was nothing you could do. The basement was empty. Just occasional sounds of water dripping, spiders crawling. There was no light, no way to measure time. It was as if the whole world had forgotten about you and you were doomed to rot there for eternity. You tried unlocking the door, yet your attempts were all futile. At first, the isolation was bearable. But after some time (you couldn't tell if minutes or hours or days have passed) it became intolerable. Without stimulation you felt like dying. You were hungry, thirsty and so, so lonely. You wanted to talk to somebody, you wanted somebody to save you from that place. You would give up anything just to see your mother again. After what felt like an eternity she finally let you out. She cried, apologized, hugged you endlessly.

"My little girl, I'm sorry. Mother had to do it, it was necessary. My Y/n, you have to understand, mother does it for your benefit. I didn't want to, but you had to be punished".

It was the first time she showered you with so much love. Is this love? You felt so happy, as if all your rage had never existed.  That feeling was addicting.

And yet you didn't stop hanging out with Wolf. You had to be a good daughter, so why were you lying to your mom? It wasn't hard to fool her, you just had to be more careful with your actions. Once again you realized how different you two were. Wolf would never lie to himself nor to others. He was honest, brutally so. And you were full of contradictions. You wanted to be a good girl for your mother, yet at the same time you wanted to be free. So in the end you could only resort to hiding the truth.

*Thud*

You fell to the floor. Mother's job wasn't going so well so she took it out on you. She always hit places that could be easily covered  by clothes. Your stomach, your back were all in purple bruises. You knew how to treat your injuries, you were the one who bandaged Wolf after each of his fights after all.

This was quite a frequent occurrence now. At first, you wondered if everything was somehow your fault, if this was retribution for all your lies. Then you understood that everything was inevitable from the very start. Mother's love is this love? was twisted, she always apologized to you after her every outburst but she never stopped either. Did she even love you in the first place? Or were you just a rag doll  for her to vent her anger on in the end? You couldn't understand. Your grades were good, you were well-behaved in front of her, so why? Why her love like that?

No, it was never love. It can't be love. Love is kind, not cruel, liberating, not constraining, strong, not weak. Love gives you wings, it doesn't chain you down. Love isn't blind, it gives you eyes to see. Love is gentle like the wind, it is never forceful, nor coercive. To love means to see the worst of somebody and still love them nonetheless.

Then what about your mother? Your mother closed her eyes on your suffering, refused to see you for who you were, didn't accept your imperfections. The love that your mother tried to shove onto you now looked like the twisted symptoms of a sickening society, a black stain in place of motherhood, selfishness masquerading as affection. Indeed, infatuation and obsession aren't love. You were foolish to think that those things were natural.

Then what about yourself? Did you .. love.. mother? Or was that just a mere delusion that you chose to believe. A defensive mechanism, as one would say. Did you hypnotize yourself to "love" her so that the sufferings would be more bearable? Perhaps not. She was your mother and your feelings towards her were real. Maybe you still saw some kindness and courage in that cowardly person. You loved her...

Of course, sometimes you hated her. Yet you never retaliated. The memory of being locked in that place was still so fresh in your mind. Perhaps your biggest fear was being abandoned by her, your only family, and be left completely alone.

　

"Wolf, we have to study. We must. That's....the only way, our only escape, our salvation."

"What's up with you all of a sudden?  'Tis a motivational speech or something? "

"No, it's not. I'm always serious and that was a genuine plea."

"What's up with you lately? You are acting strange." He looked at you with a hint of worry

You two were standing in a desolate alleyway. To be more exact, Wolf was sitting on the opponent he had just mercilessly beaten up and you were standing nearby, offering him tissues and sweets.

"I...Please promise me, that you won't abandon your studies. You're smart, don't let this thing here," you pointed to your head, "disappear. You may not understand right now, but it's the only way out! " You sounded so desperate. In a way, you wanted to reassure yourself, convince yourself that it was true. That you were correct in making studying the most important thing in your life. That you weren't wrong in placing all your hopes and dreams into it. That the thing that your mother valued most in you wasn't useless.

Wolf looked at you, as if seeing you for the first time. You were always so composed, you've never raised your voice like this before. Right now you seemed to be at a loss for words. As if you didn't know what to say, what to think. It was the first time he saw you so agitated.

"Okay."

You sighed in relief

The days continued on. Life was so dull before you met him, the invisible chains that constricted your world were only shattered to dust, when you started hanging out with Wolf. He was always in the spotlight, it was impossible not to see him for he shined oh so brightly. He showed you his world, he freed you. Even though you only met a year ago, he was already your closest friend.

He was so strong, unbreakable even. A monster that always stood back up no matter the number of hits. Sometimes you wondered as to how he could do that but you never gave it much of a thought. And that was your biggest mistake. The signs were all there, you just didn't notice them.

During night you sneaked out of your room to the playground  in your neighborhood. You didn't expect to meet anyone, yet  there sat Wolf. His eyes were dull, his head was bleeding profusely. There were bandages laying around, it seemed that he had tried to fix himself and failed.

"Just what happened to you?! Who did this? Wait, let me help you, don't move..."

You were crying, tears streamed down your face as you tried to bandage him, comfort him. You've never seen him like this. You were sure that nobody  could've gotten him into this state. He was so strong after all, just who in the world could break him? 

He finally started to talk after a while.

An abusive father. Alcohol. Usage of drugs. A psychotic episode. A beatdown.

These words flew through your ears as you came to a sudden realization. You laughed. You and him weren't so different after all. Your mother, his father — your situations were so similar that it was ironic. The rage that you had so deeply sealed inside the box finally burst out. It manifested itself in the form of cold fury. Wrath enveloped you and the gears in your brain turned.

"Let's kill him."

Perhaps you saw your mother in his father so you merged those two together. You couldn't kill your mother, if you did that, you would truly lose the last bits of humanity that you had. But you could help him kill his father and at the same time liberate some of your horrendous desires.

"Hmm, what shall the cause of death be~ Let's say... heroin overdose? A pretty common death for the likes of him. We will kill him with the very drug that he adores."

"What? What the hell are you talking about?" Confusion filled his beautiful grey eyes.

"It will be like putting him to sleep," you continued. "Except that when sleeping, our body remembers how to breathe. In case of heroin overdose your body forgets. He's so ill already, it won't take much for his respiratory system to shut down. Perhaps it will even result in heart failure. What do you think? Quite a merciful murder, don't you agree?"

"How about the consequences? What the f*ck should we do with that?! You think it's that easy to kill someone?!"

"Yes."

You take a deep breath.

"Wolf, your father was a nobody. He is remembered by no one, why would the police care about him enough to investigate it properly? With how corrupt they are in this place, I'm sure that we can fool them."

"Let's kill him."

It was strange for you to use your intelligence like this. And yet from start to finish you never once felt remorseful. Wolf, too, was strangely calm when you two planned the murder of his own father. You thought of an alibi, planned the time, the place, got all the necessary components. All to execute a perfect crime.

It was surreal. That year you two had committed an unforgivable sin, the horrendous crime of manslaughter. And nobody knew. Only you two bore the weight and guilt of murder. That made you even closer than before. For now you shared a secret that both of you would take to your graves.

　

"I want to be remembered. I don't want to be a nobody. I want people to mourn my death, I don't want to be forgotten."

"What's so bad in that? You are always worrying about such complicated things. Chill out. Don't tell me that you are starting a 3 hour long monologue on the meaning of life again."

"Oh please don't be so boring. That's why we are given 80 years of life, right? To do enough, to be remembered. I don't want to waste away and end like a certain person.  You think so too, don't you?"

"I guess so."

A comfortable silence enveloped you two. In fact, you've always loved these little walks through the night city. In these moments you've always felt the most free. Free to do what you want, free to talk about anything on your mind. And his presence made you reassured.

"You know, I've always wanted to be a doctor. A surgeon to be exact."

"Pffft, what, to save people? Now that I think about it, it kinda suits you. Kinda."

"Well, that was certainly very rude of you. I won't deny that I want to have their gratitude. But my reason is much more selfish than just saving people. You know, inside the operating room you have so much power over somebody's life," you closed your eyes. "People entrust everything to you, believe in you. It's funny how much control you can have over them. Whether they die or live depends on you. You are almost like a god?"

"You sound like you gonna murder your patients..."

"How could you! With all due respect, you are much more likely to murder someone!"

"And you are more likely to get away with it."

"That's ... true...So let's promise each other. To never go that far again."

You knew that after that day you both lost something extremely precious, something that couldn't be regained back.

Mother finally got another job and decided to relocate to another town.

"Let's stay friends forever"  was your last promise to him. "Let's not forget each other" was your request. He was probably the most important person in the world to you, your first friend, the person who had shaped you to be who you were nowadays. He was your savior.

"I wonder what kind of person he will become?"

A/n: yay, that was so long haha. This is my first fic(and  probably my  last), so please don't judge Σ(゜゜) It existed in my mind for quite a long time and I finally decided to write everything down. Basically the story takes place before the events in the webtoon. Mainly because I had no idea how to integrate Y/n into the webtoon story. So I guess this is like Wolf's past? I love this man so much, although he is a really bad person. But he is so charismatic? Somehow the relationship between Y/n and Wolf turned out to be more platonic than romantic, but I hope that wasn't too much of a problem (this author can't write romance although reads so many).

At first, I wanted to write y/n as a cold, aloof genius. Yet somewhere along the line she became so  flawed( a little selfish, has an inferiority complex, terribly lonely). I think, because she understands that, she strives to become perfect. As if that façade can mask all her flaws beneath. And because her life is constructed by lies, she finds Wolf's honesty very entrancing.

Wah, I love this man–

#weak hero webtoon #weak hero #weak hero x reader #wolf keum #wolf keum x reader #x reader #female reader

[hiraeth-witch-11]

Bond To Happen Part 11

Part 11: What if I'm a Mistake?

Warnings: the reader has passive suicidal ideation, lots of big feelings from trauma, mention of SA, canon typical content

Word Count: 3500ish

“You slept in the same bed as Billy Russo and nothing happened?” Karen asks in blatant disbelief, fingers stilling in your hair. You roll your eyes at her from your spot on the couch, head resting in her lap.

“That is what I said, Kare, 3 times now, I think. He’s a good guy, he’s never made me uncomfortable and he respects my boundaries.” Your tone is a little defensive.

“I know, sweetie. Honestly, he’s surprised both me and Frank with how he is around you. I just meant you both obviously have some sort of connection and I thought being that close might be what changes things up a bit.”

You relax at her words. “I was so tired, I passed out pretty quickly. I was just grateful the thunder wasn’t as loud after I fell asleep.”

“And if you both had been more awake?” Her words make you think.

“I don’t know if I’m there yet, Kare,” you say softly. “It’s not like he’s even actually said anything to show he’s interested either. There would have to be so much talking to even start anything romantic or physical and I haven’t told him everything about my magic. It would be too complicated and I don’t even know where I would begin…”

“Do you want me to just listen or do you want my thoughts?”

“Thoughts,” you mumble, focusing on the show the two of you have on in the background.

“I think you’re focusing on the obstacles instead of deciding whether or not you want to try,” Karen says kindly.

“What would I do if I did decide?” You ask earnestly.

“I think you gotta pick first, babe,” she answers with a smile.

“Ughhh, why can’t things just be simple. It would be so much easier if I actually got a real amount of energy from you and the rest of the gang,” you groan.

“Me too, but at least it’s been helping a bit, right?”

You nod, unable to voice the lie. You did feel better around your friends, especially when touching them, but it didn’t last. Even when you had tried opening your connection to their auras and actively feeding from them, the results had been disappointing. The moment they left the room, your fatigue would come crashing back down on you. You still spent as much time with your found family as you could, but it was about as effective as taking ibuprofen for a stab wound. You didn’t want them to worry, though, so you didn’t say anything. You kept yourself from truly putting words to it, but you had pretty much resigned yourself to your eventual death. Anything you tried now felt like it would be useless. A flailing of limbs as you ran out of air. You didn’t want that. You just wanted to be with your friends until you couldn’t anymore.

Billy was a fantasy, a white knight you were starting to daydream about swooping in and fixing all your problems. But you don’t think even he can help you at this stage. You’d probably have to be attached at the hip 24/7 to make a difference in your health. To be honest, you’d lost pieces of your will to live steadily over the last few years. The first when your parents disowned you. Another when a blonde man slipped something into your drink, a choice that led to his death. You think the biggest part of you gave up that night in the rain, surrounded by the bodies of men who saw you as less than an animal.

******

The days following you and Russo’s rainstorm adventure, he made a point to check on you twice daily. Often through a text in the morning and evening, but it quickly evolved into more. Billy stopping by your office to chat or share food became a regular thing. If he came into the office with a coffee, he always had an extra for you. Frank complained about being left out anytime he noticed. Turns out, you were right, Russo had a sweet tooth, so you would frequently find a tart or donut or some obscure miniature dessert on your desk during the week. 

Russo asked about your life, your family. A sore topic, it turns out, for both of you.

“They disowned me when I told them about all this,” You say, waving a hand and allowing a bit of your icy blue magic to be visible around the room.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Russo says earnestly.

“It is what it is. They told me I was as good as dead to them. They weren’t bad parents, though, so it was tough to accept they meant it. Up until they brought out the shotgun to make sure I moved all my shit out of their house. At least they waited until after undergrad to decide they hated ‘my kind’.” You leave out some details. Mainly that they called you a whore because of the details of your magic. At the time you thought you were some sort of succubus related witch. But you’d only ever had sex twice with a friend in college so you don’t think you can really claim either title.

“I grew up in foster care. Frank was the first family I ever had.” Billy admits after a few beats. His aura darkens at the memory, you can tell it’s painful for him, but the change in aura doesn’t feel uncomfortable for you like it should.

“Frank’s good people,” you say finally. “He’s a grumpy bastard, but he’s a real softie on the inside, I think, at least.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Billy laughs. “He’d pout for a week.”

“That is such a strange visual. Frank Castle pouting,” you snort, imagining it. “It’s weird to think that about this time 2 years ago, I didn’t have a single friend in the city and now I’ve got a whole little group. Never had that many people in my life before.”

“Surely you had friends in college?” Billy asks incredulously.

“Never more than two at a time, and most of them didn’t last long.” You shake your head. “It was okay though, I’ve always preferred the quiet.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt it then,” Billy says, jokingly moving to get up.

“No, no. You are a rare exception. Especially as talkative as you are,” you tease.

“Glad to hear you like me, sweetheart,” Billy says, smirking as he settles back into the chair. 

“I didn’t say that.” You feel your cheeks warming and rush to turn the subject back to him. “What about you? I bet you had a bunch of friends through school. You seem like a popular guy.”

Russo shakes his head non committedly. “I was just another pretty face in highschool. Same for the Marines, at the beginning at least.”

You can sense a little bitterness around that word. Pretty. He didn’t like it. His whole aura tenses as he says it. It was something you’d suspected before, but his aura had never confirmed your suspicions until now.

“Well, you started your own company from the ground up and you do a lot of good with it. I would say you have progressed past being just a pretty face.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” 

******

“Hey, Blue. Any plans for the weekend?” Billy asks, leaning against your doorframe.

“I was planning to get drinks with Karen tonight, but she has to work late so I’m deciding whether or not I still want to go.” You rest backwards in your chair and interlace your fingers over your abdomen, twiddling your thumbs as you think.

“Alone?” Billy arches an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah. Unless you want to come?”

“I’d love to.” Billy smiles at your offer.

Looking back, you probably should have just gone alone. With Billy next to you, you don’t really want to feed. Or you want to feed from him too much and have decided it wouldn’t be fair to do that to a friend without them knowing about it. Instead of feeding, you enjoy a strawberry daiquiri and tease Billy over his choice in beer.

“I don’t need to try it to know it’s gross, Bill.”

“So you’re judgin’ me without having anythin’ to back yourself up?”

“Objectively, I know my drink tastes better.”

“That’s ‘cause it’s sweet, can you even call it a real drink, sweetheart?”

“It has twice as much alcohol as yours does, and it actually tastes good. I swear you and Frank drink that shit just because you’re ‘too manly’ for anything else.” You use air quotes around the words and take another sip. “Try it and tell me you still think yours is better.” You offer him your drink. He raises an eyebrow and swaps drinks with you.

“Only if you try mine.”

You make a face, “Fine.”

The two of you drink at the same time and you grimace. “Yup, I stand by my statement. All beer is gross.”

“Yours is better,” Billy nods, taking another sip.

“I told you so.”

He hums and goes in for a third sip.

“Hey, get your own,” you say as you swipe your drink back before he can drink anymore.

“Why would I do that when I can just steal yours?” Billy grins.

“Absolutely not, William. I will fight you for it.” You finish your drink and the two of you talk for another few minutes before you are ready to call it a night.

An obnoxiously loud chorus of laughter comes from a group across the room and you wince at the noise.

“If you don’t like crowds so much, why do you go out for drinks instead of stayin’ in?” Billy asks curiously as the two of you get up to walk home.

You shrug, “I can’t become a hermit, Bill.” And you have to at least try to feed sometimes.

“Well I’m happy to come with you anytime you want company.” He eyes the room with disdain. “Or a buffer.”

He holds the door open for you and the cool night air hits you as you laugh in response to his words, “A buffer from what?”

“You haven’t noticed all the guys starin’ at you that whole time?”

“Like in a ‘thinking of harvesting my organs for the black market’ way or a ‘there’s something on my face’ way?”

“In a ‘jealous that you have company already’ way.” Billy moves to the outer side of the sidewalk.

You give Billy an incredulous look of disbelief. “In that case, it was probably meant for you, not me.”

“Most of them aren’t my type, sweetheart.”

“Most of them aren’t my type either.”

“What is your type then?” Billy asks.

You are my type, your mind supplies unhelpfully. “I’m not even sure if I know anymore. Most often, it’s women.”

“‘Women’ is a pretty broad category.” Billy grins.

“There are a lot of gorgeous women in the world and they all look different, I happen to appreciate different types of beauty.”

“I hear that. And when it comes to men?”

“My type gets more specific with men. Not that I’ve even dated one in years.”

“That specific, huh?”

“Yup. They have to respect boundaries for one, which feels damn near impossible to find sometimes. I can’t date anyone who’s sexist or racist or homophobic or threatened by me.They gotta be able to communicate their feelings effectively. They have to understand my whole weirdness with touch. And that’s not even adding in if I find them physically attractive. What about you?”

“I thought my type was anything on two legs,” Billy jokes.

“Come on, it’s not fair if I’m the only one revealing all my secrets.”

“So your type is a secret.”

“It might be.”

“In that case,” Billy chuckles. “I like fiery women- and men occasionally.”

You try not to let your surprise show at the admission. Sure, he had hinted, but he’d never outright said anything.

“If we’re talkin’ more than just a passin’ thing, I guess I gotta lot of the more specific descriptions too. I’ve just never really gotten around to a real relationship and figurin’ all that out. Frank keeps tellin’ me ‘quality over quantity.’”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never had a real relationship either. The closest I got was pseudo-dating someone for a month in college. It ended when I started flinching anytime they touched me. That was when this whole thing really got started,” you explain gesturing to your temple. “It sucked ‘cause I really liked them.”

“I don’t really like touch all that much either,” Billy starts softly. “There was this guy at the group home. I must have been ten, eleven at the time. When a grown man tells you that you're pretty, you know nothing good is coming. Let's just say, I wasn't interested in the kind of games that he had in mind. So I went after him with the stickball bat. Caught him good a couple times, too. Then he broke my arm. Got pissed off, ripped my rotator cuff in three places.”

You don’t know what to say, don’t know what you can say. 

Billy continues, “And the older I got, the prettier I got, and the more people wanted a piece of me in one way or another. When people want somethin’, they find a reason to grab it. Shit, you probably know what I mean better than most.”

You nod and look up at him as the two of you keep walking. “You didn’t deserve it, any of it, Billy.”

“Neither did you,” Billy insists, surprising you. You’d never told him what happened, never told anyone. Frank was the only one who you had even mentioned it to. You preferred to keep it buried. Maybe you’ve misread and he meant something else, but instinct tells you he knows, he sees you, he understands.

******

“It’s okay, Frank, it’s just a migraine. People get them all the time and still work,” you insist.

“How many days this month have you had a migraine this bad and still came in?” Frank asks, sounding pretty pissed at you. The lights in your office were as low as they could go and you had had an ice pack over your forehead when Frank came in unannounced as he had a bad habit of doing.

“I didn’t keep track. I don’t know why you’re upset, Frank, I’m getting my work done. This hasn’t affected the quality of my readings or reports.”

“Be straight with me, Blue. Are these migraines ‘cause of your magic?” He refuses to let you get out of this conversation with your excuses. The day or so after you’d returned from your trip with Billy, you had felt better than you had in months but that feeling quickly devolved into feeling worse. You’d had a taste of how good it could be and your magic was protesting. Even going out with him the other night was only a brief escape from the pain.

“Yes.”

“Shit, kid, I didn’t know things had gotten this bad. Does Bill know?”

“No and you won’t tell him. There’s nothing to be done and my job keeps me focused. I’ll tell him if it becomes a problem.” You keep your voice firm, trying to match Castle’s classic stubbornness. You didn’t want to bring Billy into all this, you don’t want him to worry.

“If you get any other symptoms. So much as a sniffle, you will tell one of us immediately. Tell me you understand,” he orders.

“I understand, Frank. I will, I promise.” You aren’t sure if it’s the truth.

Frank eyes you, as if he doesn’t quite believe you either. He eventually nods and leaves your office. Once he’s gone, you remove the ice pack from your face and sit up, reaching for your water bottle. Warmth trickles from your nose and you reach up to wipe it away absentmindedly, as if it’s an itch. You look down at your hand and assess the scarlet coating your skin.

“Fuck.”

******

You had a theory that Matt knew something more than he let on about your health. Sometimes he’d ask if you were okay, a deeper meaning in the words. Or he’d make a point to ask if you wanted to talk, if you needed any help. You didn’t realize how much his enhanced senses were picking up until he confronted you one night in the kitchen of his apartment while you helped clean up after game night.

“You aren’t okay, are you?” He states more than asks.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Matthew,” you reply coolly as you dry a dish.

“You’ve been brushing this off for too long, Blue, talk to me.”

“There’s no point, nothing is going to change this.” You gesture to your head, aura flashing.

“Bullshit. Have you even been trying? Have you looked for anything more concrete about your magic or your species?” Matt is struggling to keep from raising his voice in frustration.

“What is the point? I tried, but it didn't work. I gave up. There is no point in fighting anymore.” You aren’t as good at controlling your volume.

“The point,” he’s practically spitting in anger, “is that you have people who love you. You could have a good life. You just have to want it.”

“A life without real sleep? Without being able to sit in only my thoughts? Without any real chance of a life partner? In a country that’s would sooner collar me, or fucking burn me, than help me? What is the point, Matt?” You’re yelling now, tears slipping down your cheeks as you feel that quiet, ever present rage fill you. The rage of a queer person used to hearing slurs in hallways, bars, and family dinners. Of a woman who has been threatened and belittled and hurt by men who think they are owed something they choose to take. Of a witch who lost her family, her home, her dreams of the future, who was forced into becoming a survivor. 

And with this, you begin to face some of the pain you have forced so deep down into your mind. Everything you were, everything you loved, has been taken from you piece by piece. Your family was your only constant growing up, you’d always struggled to make friends. Your parents took that from you in an instant. You thought you would find freedom in your travels, but all you received was hurt and hate from the strangers you encountered. You finally finally settle in a city where you begin to feel safe, and then your rights are slowly stripped away. You hadn’t wanted to be alive in a long time. Even with your friends, your pain still festered within you like an infection you refused to treat. Sometimes you think death would be easier than this. Anything would be easier than this.

“You deserve to live, Blue,” Matt says softly, voice thick with emotion.

“You don’t know that, Matt. You don’t know what I’ve done to stay alive this long,” you shake your head furiously.

“Have you ever purposely hurt someone innocent?”

“No, but I-”

“Then it doesn’t matter. Do you think Frank deserves to die for what he’s done?”

“No, but-”

“Then why would you?”

“What if I’m a mistake?” You voice a fear that has followed you for so long, you can’t remember a life without it. Something that started small, when no one wanted to play with you as a little kid and grew as disaster seemed to follow you everywhere. “What if I’m wrong and that’s why this happened? Maybe this is nature’s way of self correcting.”

“Someone as good as you, could never be wrong, Blue.”

You break down at that. Full, heaving sobs as you lean over the sink, face in your hands.

“Can I?” Matt asks and you nod, feeling his arms wrap around you.You turn and cry into his shoulder, venting emotion that you’ve tried so hard to avoid, and he lets you. Rubs your back gently and murmurs kind words into your hair. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”

After a while, your sobs taper off, turning to heavy breathing interrupted with sniffles. You try to apologize for ruining Matt’s shirt, but he won’t let you.

“How long has that been building up?”

“A while,” you admit.

“I know I'm not one to talk about the whole, you know, sharing things and talking about feelings, but you know we’re here for you. Right?”

“I know, Matt.”

“I found some older stories and documents, Karen helped but I told her it was a surprise for you. They look promising, Can I send the info to you? Maybe you can look it over and see if anything clicks?” He explains once you’ve calmed down.

“Okay, I’ll give them a look,” you agree. You aren’t sure if your feelings about dying have changed much, but for Matt, for Karen and the rest of the people you’ve become so close with, for Billy, you can try.

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Billy Russo Taglist: @snowkestrel

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#billy russo x reader #the punisher #fluff #witch!reader #angst #daredevil #frank castle #magic

[starry-blue-echoes]

Shattered Glass has stolen my entire amount of focus.

Because my mind went to part 3 and- essentially the less evil versions of DIO's minions I'm cackling-

...but... Angst ideas because... yeah.

Since it's the rebuilding of the empire but with Stands... there has to be consequences, right?

...Holly Dies because of the arrow.

Iggy was a test for whether animals could get stands. ...he promptly escaped.

Also...

Could. Could the pillar men get stands in this since they probably survive part 2?

-👾

Y e s s s s s s s s s s s

and just. God the Joestar family in this AU give me so much brainrot. Because if you want to get technical, really only Jonathan had truly chosen to be evil. George II, Joseph, Holly, Jotaro, all of them could've been good people but the environment they were in forbade it. Since the second they were born they were being moulded to be The Next In Line, to be the next successor to continue the family legacy. Anything else was stamped out as quickly as possible

and just. Holly dying would be a mix of nothing and everything to Jotaro. Joseph would tell him her death was necessary, that if they didn't they wouldn't be able to rise to power again, that it's her own fault for being too weak......... and Jotaro would agree

but at the same time, he wouldn't

Jotaro loved his mother. He had to, he had nobody else. His grandfather was bitter and angry, his grandmother was barely any better, his father had left the second he realized who his wife was and may or may not be dead, and Jotaro had no friends because they needed to stay hidden and untouchable

He thinks she might've loved him back too

and out of all his family members and the people his family worked with, Holly always seemed the most affected by what they were doing. She was abnormally kind soft his grandfather would spit for the life they lived, and while she wouldn't hesitate to do what was needed she never seemed to take joy in it. She was simply..... indifferent. She wasn't nice, and she had more than her fair share of blood staining her hands, but in the quiet moments when they were alone and it was just the two of them, she felt kind. She'd tell him stories, show him fun tricks with Hamon, and hold him like he was the most precious, important thing in the whole world

Jotaro knew he was going to be powerful when he was older. His grandfather always said so, talking about how he was going to take over their fallen empire and bring it to new heights. And Jotaro decided he was going to do whatever it took to keep his mom happy and safe. Whatever she asked of him he would fulfill, and he would carve out a safe place for her with his own hands if he needed

She was soft and weak and he was big and strong. She'd protected him for his entire childhood, so now it was time for him to return the favor

but then she dies. It was her fault, yes. If she'd been stronger she wouldn't have died. Weakness had always disgusted him and yet.......

he thinks he hates his grandfather for talking about his mother like that

(weeks, months, years later when he witnesses Joseph's death by Dio's hands, Jotaro can't find it in himself to be upset the man is gone)

so he wants to find a way to fix it. A way to bring his mother back so she could live in the perfect world he wanted to make for her where the two of them could be happy together

and this desire ends up bringing him to Florida to meet a certain priest

(as for the Pillarmen....... I'll admit I'm not fully sure about their fates. Wammu is probably going to die, but I'm not sure about the others. I'm...... not even fully sure what they'd do if they did stick around to be honest)

#god this au has so much angst and it's just <3333 #shattered glass #jjba #jojo’s bizarre adventure #battle tendency #jjba part 2 #stardust crusaders #jjba part 3 #jjba jotaro #jotaro kujo #jjba joseph #joseph joestar #jjba holly #holly kujo #jjba dio #dio brando #jjba pucci #enrico pucci #jjba wamuu #wamuu #jjba iggy #iggy #sb answers #👾 anon

[thehighpriestess1]

This new chapter is such an emotional rollercoaster! I just have so many questions and thoughts!

I‘m so happy Gojo comforted reader after her nightmare and it was so cute how he was patient with her and didn’t bother her🥺 And I‘m happy the sneak peak was just a nightmare you scared me there! I just know that he was so happy that reader asked him about his well-being afterwards. They act like teenagers who have a crush for the first time🥺 it’s so cute. I also adore that they chose Jerry to be the nanny.

BUT

It was so wrong of him that he implied that reader is a bad mother. I know he’s overprotective of his son but she’s been managing everything on her own since day one. I think she just didn’t think anything of it. And Gojo is Gojo he takes everything what reader does to heart. Maybe because of his abandonment issues? But the way he ignored her after was just so sad. She even made him waffles as an apology and he sent them back🫣

I’m thankful that Jerry talked some sense into Gojo to prevent the worst. He really is the best character. Gojo felt so guilty that he even ate the soggy waffles😭 I hate how reader still sees herself as only the mother of Keisuke and that she’s only there because of him, but I can understand her doubts because the argument must’ve made her rethink everything :(

I’m just happy that they talked through and that they hopefully made progress. But I hope that the argument won’t give reader any trust issues in the end, due to the Yuri situation. Because I just know that there will be a lot of misunderstandings in the next chapter.

Gojos backstory is so sad. Especially the quote when reader returns to her room „But now you could see the wounded child behind his kind smile.“ This broke me😭 I don’t know if reader will confront Gojo about it but I hope she does. He should know that he’s not alone with all of his burdens. Because reader cares so much about Gojo and I think he doesn’t realise that. And now we finally know why Gojo wants to do everything to be a good father for his baby and why he‘s so scared to turn into his father.

I’m also happy that reader had a friend with while giving birth. I can understand Gojos jealousy though. But I was shocked that he let Hoshi get transferred to South Africa immediately 😭 Will we get to know why Hoshi calls reader Mia? Or was it just random?

I was so pleased that they had their time. But then everything was ruined! Yuri just gets on my nerves. Why is she so foul towards reader? I don’t know how long she has known Satoru for but she really thinks he owes her something. She’s acting like she knows him and deserves him more than reader. ESPECIALLY AFTER THREATENING HIS FAMILY?! I can’t with her. I desperately wanna know if the pictures are real or not. 🫣😭 Or how did she even fake them? Does she really think Gojo would take her after he threatened his wife’s and HIS SONS life? She must be delusional.

I Hope Gojo finds a solution for this mess. And I’m worried reader gets left alone again since you said that you had the same plans for Gojo as Gege🫣

I’m scared of what’s going to come, because how is Gojo going to fix this? I just want them to have a happy ending. They deserve it🩷

Thank you for writing August! It’s such an amazing story🩷

Can’t wait to read the last part!

Gojo can read the reader like a book! Especially when she is going through something and he knows (most of the time) how to handle it. For him she is like a delicate china doll that he must protect at all costs!

Gojo has somehow internalised his father's behaviour but at the same time he hates it. He knows that the reader did everything on her own. He saw the room where she lived and the sweaters she knit for Keisuke so now he feels like it's his turn to do everything (as her husband and Keisuke's father ) . Jerry saved the day. He truly did !

Gojo was jealous blog Hoshi but also insecure because he was there at the time.of birth and he didn't want to risk the reader getting too close to hoshi. All of this is his abandonment issues talking.

Yuri has accepted that she would never get Gojo. But she thinks if she can't get Gojo then no one should. Especially the reader because she blames the reader for Gojo's condition for that one year.

Like I said, the only similarity between me and gege is that we can't/won't let Gojo catch a break 😉

#gojo satoru #ash answers 🤍 #august✨

[cherryeol04]

Sorry! Not a request or anything but a part of me really wanted to see what’ll happen if y/n never chose to come back to the pack in taking control around chapter 8 i think?

I’d love to see your own little what if scenario, like maybe y/n slowly getting emotionless to the point where they dont want to move. Her wolf slowing down and only wanting to sleep in all day, kinda like listless

Just a little thought cause your stories got me hooked up!! And thank you!

OMG Anon! You’re the worst for even putting this thought in my head! But I mean….since you asked…hehe 😏

So in order for Y/n to not have gone back to the pack, I actually went back all the way to chapter 3 of Losing Control. And I think I made Y/n just a little more broken than in the original story. I honestly absolutely hate myself for writing this! Ahhhh!!! 😭 😢

Let’s all take a moment and be glad that instead of this timeline, we have the original one!

Hope you enjoy the little drabble, my love!

TW: This is very sad and has heavily references to depression and loss of the will to live. If this is triggering to anyone, please skip it! Remember that your mental health is important! You are loved!

The pain you were feeling was worse than the last time you had left the pack. At least last time, it had been your choice. Not that you had wanted to leave them to begin with, but you had thought it had been the right thing to do. You had been the problem. This time was different. It wasn’t you that was the problem, but they all seemed to think it was. The way they stared at you - the hatred gleaming in their eyes, piercing your soul. It was something you probably would never forget.

You had honestly thought everything had been fixed. You were a part of the pack and bonding with everyone. There was so much love. But it seemed like you had been deceived. Everything you thought was real was nothing but a lie, because if they actually care for you then they wouldn’t have tossed you away so easily. It didn’t matter if Jisung was dying or not! You don’t just kick out someone you claimed to care about! A person that others put countless hours into making feel comfortable - going so far as to create a nesting room for them as well. This wasn’t how you were supposed to be treated!

And yet here you were, alone in a dark alleyway. No home, no money; just a bag with the little belongings that you owned and even then you couldn’t say they were yours. Sure, they had been given to you, but they weren’t yours. You had nothing that was truly yours. In a little less than a year you had lost your family, friends and now the only other place you could call home. As cliche as it sounded, it felt like the world was against you. Your happiness meant nothing to anyone and you were destined to just be alone.

It was probably best you were alone. As much as your wolf howled in protest, pacing anxiously, you knew it was true. Because you didn’t want to put yourself out there again to be hurt. As the saying goes “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.”

Shame on me…

As day turned to night, you wandered the backstreets of the city that once was so warm and inviting, but now was a cold, cruel barren wasteland to you. You managed to find a decent looking group of people with a barrel fire that you could stay with to keep warm. It would have to be your home for now. Until you could find something better. If you could find something better.

Days turned to weeks, weeks to months and with each passing tick of the clock, you felt more and more mentally drained. Your optimism diminished quickly and left in its wake numbness. You stayed with the group all that time, occasionally scrounging for food to help pull your weight, but the more you thought back on your life and what it could be if only Chan and the other’s had actually loved you, the more hopeless you felt, to the point that sleeping on the grimy floor no longer bothered you. Instead, you laid there, listless - eyes seeing but not registering. You couldn’t feel the rest of your body and it felt almost as if you were floating.

You were just existing.

Your wolf had long since given up trying to motivate you to get up and go back to the pack. Its cries for Jisung finally dying out. In fact, your wolf had been silent for days now, motionless. A part of you wondered if it was possible to kill it. It seemed impossible, as it was an extension of you. It was who you were, a shifter. But what was a shifter without a pack? Or without a will to live at the very least?

Nothing.

You were nothing and they had proven that you.

As you closed your eyes, perhaps for the final time, you couldn’t help but hope that Jisung survived his attack and the pack was happy and healthy. Because while they may wish ill upon you, you only wanted the best for them. Because you still loved them.

You would always love them.

#cherry.ask #ask cherry #anon ask #stray kids #skz #fanfic #no control #no control universe #losing control #a different timeline #what if #angst #depression #read at your own risk #read with caution

[goatpaste]

tell me more about your hatred for sbr <- also hated sbr

ok i just awnser a BIG chunk of what i hated in that last ask, which is mostly surrounding the circumstances of the shit poor writing of lucy's whole character story line

but im like!! i really think the general plot was neat and fun! i like parts of it a lot! the main cast are GREAT the setting is FUN i like the set up!! i like their goals and stories!!

but then when they start digging into lucy's stuff in kansas city its just like.. man this kinda fuckin sucks!

theres some neat fun chapters here and there still ofc! i really love the sugar mountain arc it was SO good. i loved johnny and gyro way more than i thought i was initially and that was one of my favirotes in terms of a narrative i wish they told about like. OUGH

ALMOST ALL of them are chasing after this stupid magic corpse for different grand reasons to fix their lives. a magical cure

Johnny to fix his legs, diego to never be looked down on again and HP to make up for her sins

their all obsessed with this and cant focus on anything else

and the end of the sugar mountain arc was SO good with the "heres to having nothing"

This a group of people fixated on some grand goal thats just always out of their reach. never realizing their are connection to people right there with them that MEAN something.

i just think some places SBR has some story character narrative and other it just falls very very flat

then when it came to the end of it, everyone got such CHEAP deaths. Diegos was close to being something, but even then he dies and they cut away to Johnny and Gyro going, woooahh thats crazy.... anyways

AND HOT PANTS GOD DONT GET ME STARTED ON MY FEELING ABOUT HOT PANTS AND ESPECIALLY HOT PANTS AND HER DYNAMIC WITH DIEGO BECAUSE THATS JUST A WHOLE OTHER TOPIC THAT DRIVES ME CRAZY

BUT IT SUCKS you watch hot pant begin to crumble in on herself as she realizes she will never truly be absolved of her past and now is willing to die to do something good for the world. then just dies in a manner that if you blink you'll miss it. the amount of ppl iv seen say they didnt even relize Hot Pants died in the scene she died in? INSANE

Then the finale was like, fine. it was fine. it felt very much like the p5 ending in some ways, but if it has a lil more narrative and connections between characters or whatever?

we get a decent end scene from gyro before he goes.

THEN WE GET HIS GOLDEN SPIRIT LEAVING HIS BODY AND ITS TWO PAGES WERE HE BASICALLY GOES "take it sleezy :-)"

then goes away why johnnys on the ground spiraling

LIKE IT KINDA RUINS THE MOMENT LOL

AND THIS FINALE IS FINE OR WHATEVER

THEN THEY INTRODUCE THE ALT DIEGO FINAL ARC AND I REMEMBER JUST BEING LIKE

HOW MUCH MORE COULD THERE POSSIBLY BE TO SAY. HOW IS THERE MORE STORY

because let me tell you, i LOVE diego but those chapters made me wish diego was still fucking gone. alt diego SUCKED those chapters SUCKED there was literally no point to them

the scene with Johnnys dad reads like a "and then everyone clapped" kinda shit

and i think the ONLY reason they even did that fucking shit was to set up shit with the corpse and diego.. LIKE MAYBE IM READING TOO MUCH INTO IT, havent read jjl... but like IDK im like... you have a magic corpse and a dying diego in this room and put it into a special box to keep the corpse like a coffin.. set to stay sealed for 80 years... ok.. not gonna think about that and the potential for this diego i dont even like diego to return later or something. IDK I MIGHT BE CRAZY READING INTO IT. but the parallels to it and dio from pb and erina and everything is like... ok...

but it was duMB ALSO

the whole page about johnny going to Gyros home land jUST for his family to not even be there anymore. then be like, and that grand quest gyro was working on this whole time for that boy? well that boy was set free! gyros life and dedication to his choices payed off!!.................

then that boy died of a cold or some shit a few years later

WHAT IS THE POINT OF TELLING ME THAT

those last chapters was a wait of all of our time

#jojo #jjba #steel ball run spoilers

[canaryomenharbinger]

29 for the ao3 wrapped my beloved

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

I'm gonna be honest, this answer kinda got away from me :P I started making a list of my favourite lines from each fic, to help me choose,,, and now I can't choose. So instead I'm gonna choose one line/passage from every single fic I wrote this year :D I've split it into sections based on where I've posted the fic, to make it easier to read. If I had to choose one favourite, though... probably the first one in the list? I did my first fic rewrite this year and I think it went really well, so :P

Posted on AO3 (Suntooth)

He gazes up at the bedrock ceiling above him as he falls ever-faster through the Void, shimmering black stardust clinging to his arms as he reaches up and tries to touch the stars. (Ashes to ashes, dust to dust [REWRITTEN])

But denial is the strongest drug, and they act as if everything is okay. (iscariot, you fool)

A mass of vile soot, black, and eyes of Void / A mean, obscene creation; curséd soul / Its half-lid blinks keep time with hearts, so run! / Abscond, escape, evade, avoid its gaze. (putting pen to paper)

Even when the moon burned magenta in the sky and the wings on Grian's back changed from parrot to purple, he figured it was fine. (Meet Me In The Woods)

"We could prank him :3" Pearl said, a hint of mischief in her voice. (Grian was tired enough to not question how she'd said :3 out loud. It was par for the course with Pearl.) (Family)

"Iskall, you could not have done anything about a moon. You can't change what happened, no matter how much you want to, and all you can do now is live. For them. Okay?" (Verklempt)

Posted on AO3 (lopsidedhead)

It was buried underneath the residual panic and the numbness of his hands that had been clutching the bucket of lava, but it was like... it was like a deep instinctual pull, like a thread being pulled on, towards something, something he instinctively knew was a person, and the desire to maim. (There's Something In The Water)

His hands itched with the pins-and-needles heat of the curse, head full of burning cotton wool, and killing would be the remedy. (Until It Doesn't Hurt)

Ides cracked his eyes open, a dark film over his vision as he squinted at the ever-bright stars that glittered and swirled around his body. Tendrils of the deepest black were fixed around his legs as he floated in Void, although he felt nothing. (the light at the end of the tunnel (is sometimes the train))

The world is crumbling a hundred blocks or so away, trees disappearing into the aether as the world prepares to implode into itself, making way for the next iteration. In any other context, it would’ve been beautiful. (In Memoriam)

Not on AO3

You will never take me again. And if I have anything to do with it, you will not take my friends again either. You will not hurt innocent players any longer. Fuck you. (Dear Wormwood)

"Bad dream?" Ides whispered, and Lops only nodded in return, almost purring as Ides reached up and gently ran a hand through his hair. "It's okay. I'm here." (This Love)

He’s a completely normal human who just happens to need charging every night! And, of course, has Watcher powers, like every normal human. (Cysur Cyffur)

Maybe in some deep part of their minds, they truly hoped that they would win, together. Like intact glass in a tornado, unbroken despite the horrifying odds. (Bitter Water)

Unreleased (for right now) :3

The ice-cold Void scorched Ides’ lungs, and yet he still breathed in, pulling it into himself, wrapping his entire being in darkness. (Vide Noir)

Act cool, Johnnie.

“Hands off, bub!”

Great start. Not. Now he’s gonna hate you!

(Untitled WIP fic)

This got way too long LMAO

#somehow both of the unreleased ones are related to vide noir somehow (either in title or in subject) #oc #my writing

[starry-skies-116]

Incorporating Song Lyrics Into Character Development- "I Got No Time"

The first one’s obvious:

‘I got no time, 

I got no time to live,

I got no time to live and I can’t say goodbye,’

These lyrics are probably referring to the fact that Evan (CC/BV) had a falling out of sorts with his siblings very shortly before his death- always arguing with Michael, even his relationship with Elizabeth slowly deteriorating as the mental conditions of everyone in the family worsens.

All he was left with after that was a flat out broken heart.

‘I got no time’ refers to the fact that he felt like he hasn’t had any or enough time to truly live and experience life as a normal, happy individual, evidenced by the dream he chases- a future with his family, a normal, happy future of a happy life. He wishes for his innocence- his humanity, his dignity, back, and Gregory feels as though the only way he can have his life back is to have his family and home back.

‘And I can’t say goodbye’ is self-explanatory- he regrets not apologizing and saying goodbye to his siblings, even though he sucks at goodbyes and doesn’t want good things in his life to end, even though he understands that transience is inevitable.

‘And I’m regretting having memories, 

Of my friends, who they used to be,

Beside me before they left me to die,’

This lyric line seems to convey a feeling of personal betrayal lacking hatred- conflicted feelings, if you will. ‘Of who they used to be’ conveys nostalgia for simpler times- of carefree days of family, of friends, of when tragedy had not yet struck and all was well and mired in the mist of innocence and bliss. When Evan was still happy and intelligently shameless and without a care in the world. Before everything fell apart.

His ‘friends’ refer to a broad category of people whom he holds dear to his heart- his siblings, his parents, his plushies, the acquaintances he made at school, et cetera. Perhaps the personality change from bullied, quiet crybaby child to a badass and no-nonsense fighter with idealism and unbreakable spirit to boot was inspired by a desire to right wrongs, and to fix betrayals and broken relationships.

I mean, listen to that last line in the Fredbear Cutscene- ‘You’re broken.’

Maybe his desire is the desire to fix broken things… especially himself. So many wrong decisions, so many arguments, so much tears have led up to this point. What kind of a monster has he turned into in the process of trying to avoid them?

How much has his heart broken beyond repair?

‘And I know this is, I know this is the truth,

Because I’ve been staring at my death so many times,

These scary monsters roaming the halls, 

I wish I could just block the doors,

And stay in bed until the clock will chime…’

Fear, these song lyrics convey fear of the monsters, of the things that haunt him, and of the unknown. Evan is a child, so he feels helpless in the face of these nightmares- he originally didn’t have a plan to deal with them, imagine his panic then. He came from nothing- he felt like nothing. The nightmares symbolize his feelings of helplessness- of hopelessness, of not being in control of his own destiny, of his own worth and his own thoughts. This part of the song represents his darkest fears, his deep-rooted sadness and deepest regrets.

‘I have this urge,

I have this urge to kill!

I have this urge to kill and show that I'm alive…!’

This, by contrast to the previous verses, highlights the festering hate and rage hiding within Gregory. While he is very melancholy towards past memories and a future that never happened, and possesses strong love towards his family and friends, he is cruel, hateful and dissmissive- downright ruthless and draconic towards those that pose any threat to him, almost always acting on violent urges.

‘-and show that I’m alive’ signifies, again, his lack of self-worth, dignity and discipline. He is entirely self aware of his violent actions and his evil deeds, and yet he does such things anyways because he feels they are necessary to prove the worth of both his life and all he loves out of spite and undying devotion. Gregory/Evan is no coward, and he never, EVER stops fighting for what he believes in- however, that belief is fueled not only by idealistic, dreamy love, but by pure, unadulterated rage towards all those who hurt him. Who pushed him aside. Who disregarded him, never even thought that he existed.

‘I'm getting sick from these apologies,

From people with priorities,

That their life matters so much more than mine!’

Again, highlighting his own anger at people’s blatant infantilizing and patronizing of him and his struggles in his past life, and a desire to prove himself and his value in this one by finding his family and ‘fixing’ his life.

‘But I'm stuttering,

I'm stuttering again,

No one will listen and no one will understand…’

This may be an allusion to occasional doubt in his goals- occasional questioning of his ideals- however, his broken pride and broken heart always come back to spite him and force him to not accede to such pushback due to his immense grief and internalized rage and sorrow. In that hateful daze, he slowly begins to lose all sense of humanity in the process of ironically chasing his humanity- his dignity, his dream of family and home back together and happier than ever, always and forevermore.

‘Because I'm crying as much as I speak,

'Cause no one likes me when I shriek!

Want to go back to when it all began…!’

First two lines could be alluding to Gregory’s toxic and artificial need to remain ‘strong’ due to past bad memories of him being teased and bullied whenever he cried or complained, or had emotional outbursts. ‘Want to go back to when it all began’, again, alludes to a deep longing- a primal hunger for happier, simpler days.

‘So my flashlight's on, and stay up 'til dawn,

I got this headache and my life's on the line!’

Alluding to how Evan fought the nightmares consistently, avoiding them instead of tackling the problem head-on with brute force and simple, tactical intelligence, like he under the moniker of Gregory does.

‘I felt like I won, but I wasn't done…

The nightmare repeats itself every time!’

This line references how Evan fought the nightmares repeatedly, being lulled into a false sense of victory only for his fears to rear their ugly heads in front of him again. For his life as Gregory, it could be alluding to a false sense of joy when he realizes he’s been given a second chance at life via some miracle, only for his joy to quickly fade when he realizes the tumultuous environment around him, and the journey he has to embark on to seize and realize his destiny and fulfill his dream.

‘Got to keep my calm, and carry on,

Stay awake until the sun will shine,’

Again, literal need being ‘survive until 6 AM’ as Evan fighting the nightmares, metaphorical need being both Evan and Gregory needing to stay calm and persevere despite his circumstances and his harrowing anxiety and pain eating away at him alive, tormenting him and making him suffer every waking second.

‘But I'm not so strong, and they're not gone!

They're still out there to take what's left of mine!’

This line highlights the despair of Gregory/Evan, acknowledging his limits internally and breaking down in secret, expressing disdain and sorrow at the fact that the nightmares, the things that wish to hurt him, are not yet gone, and are still trying to hurt him, trying to take away his life- trying to take away his family, his only chance, what little he has left after such tragedy that scarred him so deep (C-PTSD).

So he picks himself up, and continues to carry on. And despite everything, he endures.

And he shall always endure.

#FNAF Security Breach #FNAF Gregory #FNAF 4 #FNAF Evan Afton #FNAF Crying Child #Evan Afton (CC/Crying Child/Bite Victim) #FNAF Project Samsara AU #GregEvan/GregBot/GregVessel #Golem/Android Gregory (Creation Gregory) #Reincarnated Vessel Gregory #Song lyrics analysis #My AU #Character Analysis #character development #Gregory angst #hurt/comfort #AU headcanons #can someone do an animatic on this it would be so good lol <3

[seemawrites]

Mother and Me

I look over to my mum while she’s deep in her sleep. I wonder what she could possibly be dreaming about. She looks so peaceful when she sleeps, nothing like I feel when I’m resting. But then again, people say I get the way I sleep from my mother.

Being the eldest daughter in any family is tough, but mine has brought me confusion in my everyday life. I always sit and wonder if I do enough for her, for them, but I know I don’t. I don’t go to family gatherings anymore, unless my mother tells me in advance and I have enough money. I don’t bother sitting and talking with the gossiping aunties, or the cousins who talk about the most mind-numbing basic shit possible. I don’t bother being fake and pretending the elders in my family are good people. I can’t be bothered because I really don’t care. I express myself fully no matter who is in the room. I may hold back a few things, but my attitude remains the same. But my mother. My mother can slap a smile on in front of anyone, and just do it. She does it all and more.

I have heard incredible stories about my mother. About the time she snuck out of her dad’s house to go to a party that her eldest brother was sneaking her out to. About the time she won a swimming race in her hometown, but her father was so angry with her that she wore a swim suit. About how she learned Arabic watching TV so when she moved to Saudi Arabia is would be easier for her. About how she managed to travel to Italy, all by herself, as a Muslim woman and youngest daughter of an African family.

I will never know the parts of her life before she had me, and I don’t think I’ll ever really know the parts of her life she keeps a secret after she’s had me.

When I was younger, I wanted to die. More than anything, that was my wish. And my mother didn’t handle it well. I wonder if she knew what she was doing when she spewed evil words at me, thinking it would make me not want to die. I wonder if she knows that I remember it like it was yesterday. I wonder if she knows I forgave her, because she came from a life far worse than mine, and didn’t have to opportunity to be sad about it.

Does she know that I won’t look at her less if she’s told me she’s had an alcoholic drink? That I won’t look at her less if she told me she’s done drugs? That she has cried tears that will fill rivers and grow taller than mountains because of sacrifices she made for her family? That I won’t look at her any less if she tells me she hates some of her family for that?

I sometimes wish desperately to turn to her and tell her, “I know mommy, I know more than you would’ve liked for me to find out,” Because she has turned to hate a lot of the ways I have turned to be like her. I don’t know if she even understands that I know she does.

She moves in her sleep and I hold my breath. She lets out a deep breath. She has sleep apnea and it gets worse the more stressed she is. She’s always stressed though, and I always worry. I try to tell her to let me help her all the time, and each time she shoos me away.

Maybe she knows that I have grown to understand not everything under the sun is so bright. Maybe she chooses not to believe it. Maybe she doesn’t know at all, because we never get to talk about these things.

I wonder where my mother would be if she ended up staying in Italy. If she had gotten the chance to live her life to the fullest without the feeling of family obligations battering down her back. I wonder how she felt when I demanded to fix my life for the sake of myself, with no one else in mind. I only wanted to get better when I wanted to get better. I never did it for her, and I wonder if she’s angry with me for that.

I would like to take my mother out to dinner, and get to know her a little better than she would allow me. I want her to tell me about her first kiss, or about the first time she ever felt so lonely that it felt like her chest cracked open. I want her to tell me about how she truly feels about her father, beyond the niceness she provides him since he’s dead now. I want her to tell me how she felt when her mother denied her the chance to go to Canada, simply because she was an unmarried woman. I wonder what it was like being married to my father, a handsome and successful man, and how she felt when other women used to chase him endlessly.

There are so many things I want my mother to tell me, and so many things I want to tell my mother. I want her to be able to be there for me in ways I had to sacrifice to be there for her as a teenager. There was a time where every time I broke down, she would break down with me, and tell me how horrible of a mother she is. I want to tell her I need to know her as a whole person before I can even begin to think like that. That I understand the difference between a bad person and a good person who does bad things sometimes. We are all human, and I wish she would allow me to look at her that way. I wonder if she knows how much of my own feelings I set aside in order for her to feel better about herself. I wonder if she knows that I allowed it because if she forced herself to understand why I was so sad, then she’d have to realise that it’s because of generations of trauma finally pouring onto me like I was being waterboarded in Guantanamo Bay. She’d have to realise the trauma’s that she carries deep down in the pits of her stomach, and has pushed down in order to be “resilient”. I wonder if she hates me for giving up resilience for my mental well-being.

People tell me to wait till I’m 30 to ask all these questions. But I’m 24 now, and I have lived outside of my parents home for almost 5 years now, and things in life have taught me we don’t all have till we’re 30.

I want to know who she is beyond her as my mother. I want to know her as the full woman that she is. The mistakes she’s made, the men that have hurt her, the drunk nights she spent with her best friends, the adventures she took without realising it would turn into one, the jobs she had to work to survive, the things she had to do to survive. I would write more things I would like to know about her, but I truly don’t know anything about her.

The confusion comes from how can I blindly love someone as a whole person if I don’t know how they are when I’m not around, how they were before I was around.

I wonder if she’s really okay. She says prayers help her, and she prays for us to be good every day. 5 times a day she does this. I have stopped doing this years ago. I wonder if she hates me for that too. I wonder if she’s okay with it but pretends to not be for the sake of being a “good mother”. Does she know I don’t care about family traditions? Secretly, I think she does, and she doesn’t want to talk about it.

She never wants to talk about anything. And I guess I have to wait.

#prose

[jfsant0s]

3.31.2023

I came across someone’s substack post and this quote has been ringing in my mind since January:

“The trick is to surround yourself with people who are free in the ways you’re not.”

---

Since graduation, I felt like I had to live my life a certain way to keep the peace. Whatever that peace was, it wasn’t mine. I wanted my parents to be proud of me; I wanted my brother to have someone to rely on, someone I wish I had during college; I wanted to feel like my actions were aligned with some bigger purpose. I had a falling out with God in the middle of college, but part of me still felt like there had to be a reason that everything turned out the way it did. There had to be a reason that I was living in Iowa post-graduation, reasons bigger than my individual decisions.

The summer after graduation and moving, the aerospace industry was still being rocked by COVID. I wanted to make close friends, like the bonds I had in college. My grandpa died from COVID. I didn’t feel safe in public spaces unmasked, unsure how much protection the vaccine could offer. I didn't feel like I could tell anyone how I was feeling: about graduating, about working full-time, about living in a new city, about my loneliness.

I felt like I was just existing. Floating at times. Waking up from a fever dream that was college, waking up in a body and state of mind that wasn't mine but was all I had. I felt like Stanley, stuck in a game that I didn't want to play, forced to make decisions that only led to fixed outcomes where I still wouldn't feel alive.

Fortunately, I got tired of spending days in bed. I got tired of the days blending together. I started choosing one thing to improve a week, and the weeks became months. Getting better sleep, eating at least two meals a day, eventually three, going to taekwondo, reading things I enjoyed, talking to a friend.

I started to open back up. I started to find people who were free in the ways I wasn't, in the hopes of tasting that freedom for myself. I so badly wanted to feel like I was free of my anxieties and my shortcomings.

I thought that I was finding my way back to who I was. I wanted to feel like myself again. I couldn't figure out where I began or where I got lost. I wanted to go home, but I didn't know where that was anymore or what I wanted it to look like. I am still trying to accept that I don't have to be ashamed of who I was. I don't have to start over or try to go back. Maybe I should embrace what happened, regardless of it was for a greater purpose or not.

---

Recently, I broke up with my boyfriend of two years. I didn't want to disappoint him or our families...but it just wasn't feeling right for me.

I want to move to a different city. I want to make decisions for myself, not for anyone else. I want to be seen. I want to be recognized as a whole person, not part of anyone else. I'm not completely absolved of my anxieties. But, I'm hopeful that trying to live more honestly and saying how I truly feel will keep me on track to being free. If not, I know I'm surrounded by good friends that are free in ways that I aspire to be.

[diavolosthots]

Felt like crying, so I came to you, my friend! Mc and Mammon went out shopping, specifically to buy gifts for his brothers, as an apology. When they get back home they are met with hostility. They berate Mammon until Mc screams at them to shut up, then rips into each of them for their treatment of Mammon. Then finishes with "Don't expect Mammon to stay here when he can live with me in the humanworld. I'm done with you. Mammon, lets go, you deserve better, love" and leaves w/ Mammon. Thank you!

You came to me because you felt like crying and that gives me two (2) things to think about. 1.) I'm apparently someone who people see as a tissue? 2.) My angst is just THAT good. Also! Apparently today is rain on Mammon day and I'm here for it not me avoiding my exam to write these things

Warning: uh.... Angst?

Soul-Searching (MAMMON X GN!READER ft. THE BROTHERS)

“You know, I’m proud of you for suggesting this.” Truly, you were. Mammon was your favorite and you felt for him, but you also completely understood where his brothers came from. At first, it honestly annoyed you as well; the constant stealing, the lying… You tried blaming it on his avatar, but even then it doesn’t explain the lying that comes with it. However, you do realize that it’s a habit and it’s a habit that is hard to fix, so instead of constantly getting onto him like the rest, you tried to understand him a bit more and give him some life advice. So far, you have managed to get Mammon to give back all the things he has recently taken from his brothers, and some of them even got an apology. You’ll be working on how to properly apologize, though, because oof, that was a mess. 

And now? Now you managed to take a small trip with him downtown to at least attempt to make things better. Mammon is now, or at least today, using his own money to buy some things that his brothers would be fond of: a new vinyl player for Lucifer (non-cursed), a new Ruri-chan t-shirt for Leviathan, a neck pillow for Satan because lord knows he has some cramps back there with the way he leans over and down to read his books. Then some perfume for Asmodeus that he had been swooning about, a gift card to Beel’s favorite restaurant for the glutton, and a heated blanket for Belphie. You were proud, truly, that Mammon wanted to do this. As a matter of fact, he was the one who suggested it. “Maybe… uh.. I could… ya know… buy somethin’ they like” is what he said. You were just excited and agreed to help. 

Now you were going back to the house with a few shopping bags and ice cream almost fully eaten. You paid for the ice cream, as a way to reward Mammon, and you’re sure he’s secretly thanking you for that because some of these items truly did burn a hole into his credit card, which is partially his fault. “Lucifer deserves more than some random vinyl player.” his words, not yours. Also “satan needs one of them neck pillows that massage it, too!” again, his words. So yeah, some money was definitely spent on these items, but… once again, you were proud. “I think they’ll love everything, Mam. They’d be fools if they didn’t.” Hearing you say that made Mammon feel a lot better, honestly, and a small rush of confidence came to the surface “Ya betcha they will! Nothin’ but the best from the Great Mammon!” You just laughed. 

However, upon arrival, it was a different sight. As a matter of fact, you barely made it through the door before Beel was grumbling something about Mammon eating his custard, which is true, but it’s just a custard? “MAAMMMOONNN!!” and then there was Lucifer who appeared so fast you wondered if he was even real. He went on a whole rant about how irresponsible Mammon is and how another bill came in the mail that talks about Mammon’s debt. Satan and Belphegor teamed up to show empty hands, which left both you and Mammon confused, but then “do you see anything here? No? That’s because you sold our belongings, Mammon!” Mammon can be lucky that Leviathan was still holed up in his room because he just remembered that he also, at some point in the past, sold one of Levi’s figures. Asmodeus came last and honestly he wasn’t mad, he was just annoyed. “I saw you go through my things, Mammon. Nothing was taken, but it was still so incredibly rude!” 

Next followed a screaming match which was basically just Mammon trying to defend himself, trying to show the bags and apologize, but none of them would have it. It irritated you. Yes, they had every right to be mad because personal belongings should stay with their owner(s), but at the same time, they didn’t even give Mammon a chance to explain, especially after he’s been holding the bags up and attempting to apologize. “You’re so stupid, Mammon” “StupidMammon” “so irresponsible. You know better than that. Do you need another time out session, Mammon?” “I can’t believe you’d go through my stuff again!” by now your eyes were twitching and the voices echoing off the walls surely didn’t help your case. One more word and you’d snap, surely, especially since Mammon’s hand is now shaking and you grabbing it did nothing at all. “We would be better off without you.”

Ah yes, there it is. The final straw. The amount of anger boiling inside you right now isn’t even manageable anymore and you’re surprised that Satan, as the Avatar of Wrath, has yet to notice it. “Shut up! Shut up, Shut up, Shut up! All of you!” You yanked Mammon behind you, almost protectively and Belphegor found the need to laugh at it. “Really? You’re going to protect him?” Oh, there. That’s your first victim. “Are you really that dense, Belphegor, or is sleep still clouding your brain cells? That is your brother you’re currently making fun of and I don’t know about you, but I was taught that family sticks together, blood related or by choice. So how about you get your head out of dreamland, take this stupid heated blanket that he bought for you, as an apology, and wake up for a second.” yes, you did throw the bag at him and then you pointed your finger at Beel. You’d regret later on that you’re tearing into him as well because Beel means well at the end of the day, but still, he was also part of this. 

“You’re my least worry, Beel. Honestly you’re too caught up in your burgers and brawns to care for a second that your brother tries very hard to be liked by all of you. Sad, really.” you threw the card at him too. As a matter of fact, you threw all of the bags right in front of them. “And then Asmo.. oh my God, first of all, the world doesn’t revolve around you. Shocker, I know. If you were half as empathetic toward your family as you are obsessed with yourself, maybe you wouldn’t feel the need to always go party and drink your life away. Oh, I’m sorry, did that hit just a little too hard? Can’t be harder than the hangovers you wake up with on a regular basis.” You glared at him before turning your attention to Satan. “Honestly, if you weren’t such a baby inside I may actually be scared of you. You always complain about how stupid he is, how he needs to just learn, but you? What do you do all day? You hole yourself up in your room and read about worlds that you wish you could enter. News flash: you’d die before you had the chance to say hello. People don’t like self-proclaimed assholes. Mammon IS smart. He’s very talented, too, but you’re too far up in Shakespeare’s ass that you fail to realize that everyone has knowledge in different fields of life. Give me a break.” 

Satan was about to retort but you already moved on to Levi. “and you! Let’s be honest, if it weren’t for you wallowing in self-pity and fake depression, you would have absolutely no personality traits. What are you again? The Avatar of Envy? How about instead of being envious of others’ accomplishments, you actually start working on yourself. It’s truly pathetic that a couple millenia old demon’s only purpose in life is ramen and self inflicted emotional pain. Seriously, what are you? A pitiful loner? I can’t even begin to empathize with you in any way, shape, or form.” Your blood was boiling right now and maybe if they hadn’t attacked Mammon like they did, you would’ve felt bad about Levi’s sad face right now, but there was still one person left to deal with.”

“And you… beautiful, responsible, way-too-good-for-you older brother, Lucifer.” He’s been glaring at you this whole time, arms crossed over his chest but you stood your ground. You’re not quite sure how you managed, but you did. “You call yourself the best, the most responsible. You constantly say this family would fall apart without you, but that’s not it, is it? I think you’re just lonely. You force these six to be by you, to respect you and borderline worship you. Not because you deserve it…” you chuckled, shaking your head, “no. You’re just so sad that Daddy and Michael left you, mocked you, that you turned your sadness into anger and took it out on these six, but especially Mammon. Why? Because you see yourself in him. You call him your favorite brother, but it’s not because he actually is… he just reminds you of everything you used to be: fun, reckless, and feeling. Now you’re just cold, mean, and bitter. Don’t bother calling yourself the mighty first because without him you would be neither. Maybe if you pulled that stick out of your arse and actually tried to get to know your brothers, maybe you wouldn’t be so lonely all the time. Family, right? That’s what you want. How about you start acting like one.” 

You shook your head after that, grabbing Mammon’s hand and kicking the bags in front of you before dragging Mammon back out the door. “Those are for you, by the way. Not that you deserve them, but they’re Mammon’s way of apologizing for all the things you accused him of the minute he set foot into the house. Have fun. We’re going to the castle and, if we’re lucky, to a real home.” 

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #mammon obey me #mammon #mammon avatar of greed #shall we date mammon #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon #asmodeus obey me #belphegor obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #tw angst

[blissfulparker]

Screwdriver→T.H

Pairings: construction worker!tom x rich!reader

Summary: in the hottest summer London’s ever experienced, tom and his team are used to help build onto your house. Working for the richest family in London, he gets a view of their daughter by the pool every single day. New day, New Bikini. And when you’re looking for sun fun and he’s looking for a break, you two know right where to fine each other

Warnings: explicit smut: unprotected sex, sneaking around, rough, Dom!tom. bit of dorky tom and a cocky reader 

Wc: 2k

A/n: thank you to the wonderful @tommyunderoos for the amazing idea that boy I’m running so far with. No thoughts. Head empty. Just Tom using tools all day😩

(Pic is not mine)

London's hottest summer day fell during the mist of June. Short skirts and crop tops made up your summer, letting loose and drunk every night was the best part. Or so used to be the best part.

While your summer was made up of fun, reckless adventures where you made a mess of everything, Tom cleaned it up. For his hands were all on deck for building the new section of your house for your family.

The name you hadn’t heard since high-school made a special summer reappearance. No longer was the boy scrawny, dorky, constantly fixed on his homework, but was now built and had a soft tan from the summer sun beating down in his skin. You never sought the boy out to be working in construction, for you always remembered him to be more brains than body but your father promised the team he was on was one of the best in town. They would get it done quick and fast and wouldn’t even bat an eye in your direction.

As you remembered tom differently, tom remembered you the same. Preppy-rich girl who was just a tad nicer than the rest. Still occasionally using him for his homework like the rest, you had at least told him ‘thank you’ and acknowledged him in the halls. He was just like every other boy, everyone wanted to fuck you but no one truly did for it was rumored you were a virgin all of high-school. None of that was his business but when he got the call saying the summer project was under your name he swallowed extra hard. Already imagining what you looked like now and how hard it was to control himself then. How hard it would be for now.

Working for you was one of his worst jobs yet. The physical work was fairly easy, your father only requested two extra rooms built on so the project would be over by late July the latest. But that wasn’t the problem, the problem was you sitting each day by the pool in a new tiny bikini. Taking advantage of the London’s sun right in front of his face. Rubbing sunscreen all over your body only made him wish his belt was looser around his pants. Oh how you would sometimes arch your back to stretch—

“Tom!” Nearly hitting his finger with the hammer so distracted, he pulled himself out of his daydream when he heard his brother's voice. “The screw!” He demanded annoyed watching him eye fuck the girl he hadn’t even spoken to yet.

“W-what?” He pretended it was the loud noise of the drill that distracted him but in reality everyone knew it was you.

“The goddamn screw! It’s inside! Go get it!” His younger brother at a higher distance than him, normally the two would’ve bickered for about a half an hour fighting who would move to get the screw. But Tom didn’t know if it was the summer heat or the baby blue bikini but he couldn't focus for the life of him.

The house was almost always empty, or just so large that the space the team took up was never a space the family wanted to be around for every time tom went in he could never find anyone who actually lived around there.

But the house was as big as his entire flat complex. You could so easily get lost in here.

“Fuck!” Tom cursed as he searched through tool boxes but never noticed you came into the room. Wearing the same bikini he watched you in outside, you wore a long unbuttoned-button down to cover yourself. Or at least try to.

“Everything okay?” Your voice angelic to his ears and makes him completely stop. Sure he grew, he was no longer the small boy but his shy heart around you remained the same.

“Huh? Y-yeah. Need a screw?” Why his words came out in such a questions was embarrassingly beyond him. You laugh at his words realizing how sexual they were beyond what he meant.

“No, I don’t need one. Do you?” You teased. The iced beer melted in your hand. The way your fingers tightly wrapped around the beer only worsened his thoughts of it being him—

“Y-Yeah, sorry. The tool of course. I need the tool—“ he hated himself for rambling so much. Making himself a fool in front of the girl he crushed on since high-school.

“I knew what you meant, I was just teasing tom.” His name fell off your tongue so effortlessly. His name. You remembered his name.

“You know my name?” What he thought was in his thoughts was said aloud.

“Yeah...you always helped me with my maths. Who would’ve thought that the boy so smart in maths but couldn’t do P.E. Ended up in a job like this?” As you hoped you were flirting, his face fell down a little remembering the high school years where he wasn’t like he was now. “Sorry, I just meant you were so smart—“

“This job includes math, don’t worry.” He has a pressed-lipped smile and looks away. You still stood in front of him with that tiny string bikini that he just wanted to pull apart. See just how sturdy that counter top was that you stood next to.

“Right.” Feeling as if you made a fool of yourself, you shift on your feet. “Well, I’ll let you get to it. Can I get you a drink? Water? Lemonade? Beer? It’s so hot outside you must be thirsty.” You offered and boy was he but not for water.

“I’d love a beer but technically can’t drink on the job.” He shrugs. You look down at the beer in your hand before holding it out, offering a sip to him.

“One sip won’t hurt. I’ll make sure to get you some water too.” You grew a smirk and he took the beer from you, his lips meeting where yours once were as he allowed the cold liquid to run down his throat. Giving him the boost he needed for the hour.

“Thanks.” Something about the thought of how his lips pressed against the lip of the bottle made you shift your legs. You felt yourself grow wet at the thought of his lips where yours once were and what else his lips could do.

“We should catch up sometime.” You said in a calm voice. The same nervousness he had when he found out he’d be working with you, grew strong as he nodded.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “We should.” Picking up the screw that was needed all along he didn’t know how long he would last standing near you. Another second would feel like another year going by.

Before he could get out though, you grab him by the arm. You always knew how flustered he got but you didn’t know it stuck years later. You remember when he would trip over his words while helping you in maths. Now you were both nervous of each other but knew what you both wanted.

“How badly do you need that screwdriver out there?” You set the beer bottle down. His arms so big in your hands, freckles painted down his shoulders, the tightness of the white shirt he wore that had marks all over it made you only want him more.

“I’m not sure, pretty hot out there the boys want to try and get done early so we can—“ His face was close to yours, lips so close you could almost lock them. He looks from your eyes to his lips before moving back a bit.

“Tom,” you cut him off. “I noticed every day you staring at me. I might’ve sucked at math in school but I’m not completely stupid.” You tell. He wants to touch you, god he wants to fuck you on this counter but he can’t. Not right now.

“They’ll notice if I’m gone for too long.” His voice airy and you move your hands to his waist to pull him into you.

“Then let’s see how fast we can be.” Your lips crash into his. His hands wrapping around your waist pulling you close. While his hands went to your waist yours pulled his face in more, making up for all the missed years.

“N-Not here.” He pulled back already out of breath. There was a bathroom close by, plenty of space, one that was open for the workers to use throughout the day instead of the port-a-potties outside.

Pulling you into the bathroom, he locked the door. Quickly having you against the bathroom counter. His lips pressing against yours as the belt of his tools drop to the floor.

“Waited so long for this,” he allowed you to kiss against his neck. “Ever since you started asking me for help fuck—“ with the slip of your finger, your binki top fell right before his eyes.

“Oh yeah? Why do you think I always asked you for help?” You tease as you only shut him up. His hand came to run his thumb over the tip of your nipple before you tugged at his shirt needing it off.

“Tom,” you moaned as paid no attention to your needs for his shirt but rather paid full attention in making you feel good. His lips pressing kisses down your chest until he takes each breast in, letting your hands run through his hair pushing him down more. “I need you, inside me.” You breathe out.

“So fucking hot.” He said more to himself as he turned you around.

Now having a view of both of you, you could see the mess you already made of his hair in the mirror as he took no time entering you. Giving you just enough time to adjust to his size before moving, your eyes fell close.

“Uh-uh,” he wraps his free hand around your neck and pulls you right into his chest. “Watch.” His eyes meet yours, his hand still loosely around your throat as he finds a steady pace to fuck you in.

You struggle to keep your eyes open as you’re fully nude in front of the mirror, only his shirt off but not enough time for his pants but he still made due. Thrusting his hips at a steady pace, burying his face into your neck pressing kisses as he pounded into you.

“Fuck Tom! Please!” You cried out as you felt yourself coming close so quickly. Your hand going down to your clit, he quickly moves it so that his can come down and finally watch you come undone for him.

“So fucking tight.” He threw his own head back before he felt you tighten around him. “Keep your fucking eyes open.”

“I’m gonna—I need to—“ you start to cry but he shakes his head only going faster.

“Not yet darling,” he looks at you in the mirror, how badly you want to hold onto him and use him to get off but you would have all the time in the world, later. Now he just needed you.

As you almost couldn’t hear him, his thumb rubs harder at your clit and he almost finally snaps you back into reality as his words loud.

“Cum! Now!” He nearly demanded from you and you did, coming undone under him as you felt your legs go weak and your eyes fall shut, not being able to keep them open as he caught his own high.

The two of you catching your own breaths, your hands planted on the counter trying to keep yourself up while he was still holding you, making sure you were okay.

You turn around, looking at the haze in his face and the glow in his eyes all caused by you. You let your fingers run through his hair once more before he hears the shout of his name.

“We should get drinks sometime.” You finally speak and he has a small smirk grow to his face. “When do you get off?”

“Well just five minutes ago.” He jokes, taking your innocent words and making them in a teasing manner. Your hand playfully slaps his chest. Reaching down to grab the bikini you came in with, you tie it back on with his help. “I get off at seven darling.” He kisses your cheek. His name called by his brother louder this time making him groan.

“I know a place we can go.” You bite your lip, you never saw this version of tom and couldn’t wait to see all of it.

“Oh yeah? The place I’m thinking of is closer to my flat.” He suggested and you almost whimper at the thought of a night with him.

He hears his name being called again and he lets out a groan.

“For fucks sake! Hold on!” He shouts, making you jump a little but get excited for tonight’s drinks.

“I think you need this.” You pull the screwdriver you see from his back pocket and hand it to him. He gives you a playful glare and reaches for the door. On the other side stands a curly redhead with a look that goes from angry to shocked when he sees you.

Tom doesn’t even pay the boy any attention as he walks past handing him the tool he needed all along.

“Found your fucking screwdriver.”

please leave feedback it helps me out!

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