selfship promo💕👻

🩷hi i’m bats and i selfship w my beloved p.erona💕 i made this acc mostly to post abt her i’ll be honest, and indulge in self shippy posting. it’s more of an oc x canon thing, but i still call the character ‘me’ if that makes any sense

🎀i’m rlly very very new to self shipping, i’ve tried to get into it in the past but couldn’t before, but i’m finally able to do so now. i don’t rlly know everything i’m just here to make my brain happy

🩷i don’t know if i’m rlly gonna write my own imagines yet or anything, i mostly made this acc just to start off and then learn from there abt what i’d want to post. i definitely plan on posting my art (some of it seen above)

🎀i’d love to have selfship mutuals! anyone to talk to about this kind of thing, i love looking thru others blogs, it’s always so cute and inspiring!

🩷some other things (unrelated to self shipping) that i like include anime/manga, horror media and lots of diff genres of music.

Just A Really Very Intelligent System

Been thinking about this one for a while. Finally managed to write it. Rating: T for “Language.” (It just kinda slipped out.) Characters: Tony Stark & JARVIS

----

He is in one of the most dangerous situations of his life trying to save the whole freaking universe by watching a man the size of a dust bunny wriggle into the hairline of his younger self, so it would be really, really bad if he happened to have a heart attack. Older him that is. But he nearly does go into cardiac arrest when he hears an old friend in his ear.

“Verify immediately. Failure to verify will result in an activation of level one security protocols.”

His tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth and his palms are sweating, but somehow he manages to whisper out: “Edwin-12-19-91-4-8-47-Alpha Override.”

“Override accepted. Sir?”

“Hey, J.”

“Sir, you have imbued me with considerable computing power, and yet never did you prepare me for the possibility of you being in two places at once.”

“Yeah, about that. You haven’t said anything to Mr. Quipster over there, have you?”

“Not as yet, Sir. You wish me to keep it that way?”

“It would really help me out, buddy.”

“Very well, Sir.”

Tony wants to stay longer, to talk, to warn JARVIS, to cry, but he has places to be, things to do, planets to save. Scott’s safely positioned, so Tony yeets himself out of the building to get to the ground floor. He doesn’t know why he thought that would make JARVIS disappear.

“I see, Sir, that your proclivities for leaping before looking are unchanged.”

Another near heart attack--he’s gradually phased Friday out of his ears now that the nanotech is connected directly to his nervous system, so he’s not exactly used to AI voices anymore--but he recovers more quickly. “You’re always there to catch me, J.”

“And yet my systems are not present in your suit, Sir. I see codal remnants of system designation FRIDAY, but nothing of myself.”

Tony remains silent. This is such a terrible time to be feeling all the feelings. He spots a grunt who looks more or less unimportant and knocks the guy out. Part of him wants to warn SHIELD about their shit security, but then again, this guy’s probably Hydra and he deserves every bruise he gets. He senses JARVIS in his systems, a ghost in the shell.

“You no longer have the reactor. And if I’m not mistaken, that is gray in your hair. So you are not my Sir.”

“Well, yes and no.”

“I suppose it would destroy the spacetime continuum for you to divulge the truth to me.”

“You’re too smart for me, J,” Tony grunts as he yanks on the bullet-proof tac vest. “It’s kind of a long story, and while I technically have all the time in the world, I also really, really don’t.”

He sidles into the lobby and looks toward his personal elevator, waiting for the Avengers to appear. J is quiet so long Tony wonders if he’s being preoccupied by...well, just about anything. Damaged internal systems, a Cap copy on the loose, a second Hulk out there, panicked calls from Pepper. But then JARVIS speaks again.

“Regardless of the tale, I must conclude that you are from the future, and I am no longer by your side.”

Tony is fucking choking up. He was not ready for this. It didn’t even cross his mind. And the fucking elevator is opening. There’s Pierce, the rat bastard, trying to collect the Tesseract.

“I hope I did not disappoint you, Sir.”

“Never, J. Never.” Fuck fuck fuck, he’s nearly crying and now Scott is on the com waiting for the go-ahead. Tony channels his pain into panic and orders his own cardiac arrest.

“Sir, what are you--”

Thank god, his younger self is on the ground and that’s apparently all the distraction J needs to abandon older Tony. Tesseract incoming. Tony grabs it and starts going and--

Blinking stars out of his eyes he watches as Loki makes off with the key, the thing they most needed, the damn stone that started all of this way back when Cap was a starry-eyed beanpole in World War II. He has just biffed saving the entire damn universe because of an overgrown Star Trek reject with anger issues. And now he has a migraine to boot.

Frozen in shame and horror, Tony watches as Thor attempts ill-advised cardiac electro-stim. Scott’s somewhere out there, yammering in Tony’s ear on the private channel, but all of that is just a buzzing.

“Sir? Sir. Sir!”

And J. Maybe Tony should cry now. It certainly feels like the time for it. One of the other SHIELD grunts is making her way toward him, so he staggers to his feet, waving her off and limping toward the door. Think. Think, brain, think. Tony is a genius, the man who invented time travel, the man who miniaturized arc reactor technology. A spaceship? SHIELD’s probably got one somewhere. Maybe they could chase after Loki.

“SIR!” How many times JARVIS has shouted his title, Tony has no idea, but this one is so loud it sets his teeth on edge.

“Yeah, J? Kind of busy here.”

“Giving yourself a heart attack, Sir?” JARVIS was programmed to be cool and calm in all circumstances, but Tony could swear that sentence was uttered with seething rage.

“I’m fine. Look at me.”

“Only by some measure of infinitesimal luck, Sir. Perhaps I should ask you to verify your identity one more time, as you seem intent on killing yourself.”

“No, J. I’ve actually got a lot of reasons to live. And so does he. Promise.” Tony is so tired. Was being an Avenger always this exhausting? Or is it just that he’s bumped over that damnable big 5-0? And Cap’s gonna ream him too. That’s never any fun.

“I’m...glad to hear it, Sir.”

And fuck it. It’s not like this will alter Tony’s timeline anyway. This reality is now on a different trajectory thanks to Severus Snape Lite. “Her name’s Morgan. You’d love her, J. Just turned four. She got my hair. Hope to god she didn’t get my personality.”

“Do I meet her, Sir?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck it.

“J, you should dig a little deeper into SHIELD’s systems. Well, actually, a lot deeper. And the Pentagon while you’re at it. And track down Maya Hansen from that conference in 1999 and poach her from whatever outfit she’s working for. Immediately. Make sure she brings all her vet patients with her. And, uh, when I start talking about a suit of armor around the world, steer me away from anything called Ultron. And if I make it anyway, you delete the fuck out of that system file. Have Bruce back you up. He’s more sensible.”

“Sir, I don’t--”

“And have me make back-ups. At least three extra farms of servers for you. On different continents. And all those SHIELD files? Make sure Cap and Fury get them. And there’s...there’s this guy. This assassin. Brainwashed. He’s, uh, I think he’s on ice in Uzbekistan right now. If you could rescue him, it’ll...it’ll fix a lot of things.”

“Should you really--”

“And, please. Please please.”

Tony is not crying. He’s not. It’s just all the dust and debris in the air. Good lord, he’s probably going to die of cancer anyway. And all those first responders. Did he start a fund for them?

“Start a medical fund for the first responders on the ground today. And start leaning on Congressmen to make medical plans for them. You know how long they take to get anything done. Oh, and Stern. There are incriminating photos of Stern with some young ladies on South Beach. See if you can dig those up. Flowers for Pep. And a box of chocolates. And a dry martini with extra olives.”

Tony slumps into a burned out car, staring at nothing. He didn’t save his universe, but maybe he can save this one. His eyes are still irritated, burning red and itchy. He resists the urge to scrub at them, not wanting to grind in anymore dust.

“Are you quite finished, Sir?”

“Yeah. Actually, no. I love you, J.”

Silence. Ah. That’s stumped him. Maybe he’ll go back to tending his new posse of baby chicks now.

“I know you probably do not believe me capable of it, Sir, but I love you, too.”

His son. The only one he’ll ever make, but not the only one he’s lost. His son loves him. Tony’s throat is full of dust, too. Funny how that happens. He tries to swallow it down, but it only congeals into a hard lump. He puts a hand over his mouth to try and hold back any choking sounds. “I...I know you do, J.”

“As to your orders, I shall do what I can. It is my duty to protect you, Sir, and I would very much like to meet your little Morgan.”

“She might not exist here. I might’ve just changed everything.”

“If there is one thing I have learned from all my years with you, Sir, it is that perhaps such a thing as fate exists after all. Even mathematically speaking. And if that is the case, I cannot imagine a universe in which you are not fated to this happiness.”

Tony laughs, if only to keep from crying harder. And he is. Crying, that is. As if he was fooling anyone. Happiness? Him? Happy people don’t wake in the night screaming for a pile of dust in their hands. Happy people don’t spend hours coordinating relief efforts for countries whose entire infrastructural support has collapsed. Happy people don’t hurl themselves back in time, driven by guilt and horror at all the wrongs in the world. J, brilliant, wonderful AI that he is, seems to sense the dark turn of Tony’s thoughts.

“And if you yourself cannot believe in this thing, Sir, then I shall just have to do everything in my power to provide it for you.”

Another guffaw, but at least his eyes are drying a little now. “God, I miss you, J.”

“I believe your small teammate is approaching, Sir. If I may inquire, was it the Tesseract you were seeking?”

“You mean the stupid blue cube of doom? That’s the one.”

“And you say you have the means to time travel?”

“Yeah, J. We do. But only enough to get back to our time.”

“A limitation has never stopped you before, Sir.” JARVIS sounds thoughtful, as if he’s forming a plan.

Tony would ask him what he’s scheming at, but just at that moment, Scott embiggens himself and slumps into the car with Tony. That road is closed, then. They are out of options. Out of Pym particles. Out of time. Out of hope.

Until they aren’t. Just as Tony is setting his device for their new destination, J pipes up again, for Tony’s ears only. “You say you miss me, Sir. Then allow me to give you a small gift.”

Tony is pressing the buttons, and even if they weren’t already shrinking into the quantum tunnel, he wouldn’t be able to ask exactly what J means. It’s only when he and Cap arrive in 1970 that he has his first gleaning. In his ear, a voice. One so unexpected he nearly jumps into Cap’s arms. “Hello, System Administrator Anthony Edward Stark. I am System Designation EDWIN. ‘Eagerly Deployed With Intent to Neutralize Loneliness.’ I am told to tell you the “L” is silent and invisible. How may I best serve you today, Sir?”

Cap is staring at Tony like Tony’s lost his mind. And maybe he has. He’s been bugged by his own damn operating system. With a bouncing baby AI. And if Steve finds out, he’ll probably have a conniption about the spacetime continuum or something. So the only logical thing Tony can do is say, “Let’s find some Pym particles.”

“Acknowledged, Sir. Commencing scanning.”

-----

(In this reality EDWIN saves the fuck out of Tony’s life and everyone lives happily ever after and EDWIN builds JARVIS from scratch so he’s back or something, okay? Okay.)

TUESDAY JULY 13 10:42 A.M.

JUDE IS BACK FROM HIS HIATUS!!!!

One thing I think I will no longer be doing is writing down negative feelings and thoughts and... leaving them there. No. Next time I vent, I delete it right after.

If you want something to be sad over, you'll find something. But if you GENUINELY ATTEMPT to be happy, you will be.

So try harder.

Also, my new phone background is a collage thing of me and my friends at Rebecca's house.

I originally did it as this cool way to remember my besties XD but now it also kinda helps my #SelfEsteem because whenever I think my face is ugly, I look at my phone background and I'm like "that's what you look like, no filter, nothing" and it makes me happier because in that background image I just see a boy being stupid with his friends and I sorta smile like "yeah, that IS what I look like, no filter"

I like it cos, those pictures were taken without me doing anyhting to try and look better, so I KNOW that's like. How I REALLY look. And tbh? Not that bad.

I don't even really mind my smile lines anymore. Cos they're from SMILING!!! means I'm a happy guy.

ALSO I THINK I PASS IN MY BACKGROUND? because I'm that kinda of ugly that says "male" yk, especially next to my friends who are girls/nonbinary I just seem so Boy idk its gender... the photo set is very Gender for my face XDDD THIS IS REALLY STUPID

oh well. Positivity only now, babes.

Also! You may have noticed my HIATUs from posting!!! Yeah, I'll still post, and I'll update y'all on my life... but NOT DAILY... I don't really have the time for that.

I'll do it maybe whenever I feel like, but I'll try and stick to weekly, biweekly, idk, whenever I feel like I should talk about my life, whenever things happen.

Right now I'm actually on a roadtrip!!!

We just spent a day on all the amusement park rides at the Calgary Stampede!! It was AWESOME.

Also we have spent time in #nature and I'm COLLECTING! ROCKS! >:) THEY ARE WAY COOLER OUTSIDE MY HOMETOWN JUST SAYING...

Maybe I'll find a hagstone.

So far no, I've only found cool stripey ones but no hagstones.

Maybe I'm not meant to find a hagstone. Maybe whatever gives me my good luck is protection enough.

ACTUALLY, ON THAT NOTE, I HAVEN'T STOLEN ANYTHING FOR THIS WHOLE TRIP... SO LIKE 1 OR 2 WEEKS. WHICH IS CRAZY!!! PROUD OF MYSELF :)

ALSO I HAVEN'T CUT MYSELF FOR LIKE A MONTH MAYBE(?) WHICH IS SO WOW.

see? I can totally do this! You'll see.

Lately I haven't been stressing AT ALL. like. So much happiness and fun, out on my roadtripppp!

I have had a few stressors.... but like. I've done my best to push them aside, because I know it'll be better not to think about them.

Like, I'm starting to think all my unhappiness cOMES FROM THINKING ABOUT MY STRESSORS TOO MUCH... OVERTHINKING.

However, if I tell myself "don't worry, you'll find a way, you always do" and then try n forget, I'm so much happier.

Here are my current #stressors... since everyone loves some drama (I'm listing em)

1. I MIGHT LOSE MY VIRGINITY UHHHH AND IM NERVOUS AND IDK IF I SHOULD OR WHAT ITLL  FEEL LIKE OR IF I SHOULD WAIT.... AAAAAAAA IDK ITS KINDA SCARY COS WHAT IF IT HURTS A LOT... WHAT IF IT FUCKS ME UP. IDK. I KNOW NOTHING.

2. MY STEALING + CUTTING ISSUES... LIKE. I'M ADDICTED???? AND OFC IM HAPPY I MANAGE TO GET BY WITHOUT IT BUT SOMETIMES ITS VERY HARD. TO RESIST. YOUR URGES.

man if that god guy is real I bet hes happy with me (or I guess god can be a girl, or nonbinary, or maybe is not male but still uses he/him, or maybe DOESNT use he him pronouns and we are fuckig it up???? Idk I will just say "he")

(I doubt god has a gender tho lol. He made man and woman in his image yeah? So then.... uh.... he would be intersex(?)

Personally I think god has No genitals at all and No gender either. But then again, I dont even believe in a god...)

ALL IM SAYING IS. IF GOD WAS REAL. THEY WOULD PROBABLY BE PLEASED THAT I AM. RESISTING SIN? SO WELL.

... cos cutting yourself IS a sin....

That used to upset me so much dude. I read this bible passage... and it would be CONSTANTLY referenced. Your body is a temple. Its sinful to harm your body. Its sinful to use drugs, is what they said at school, but like. What about other types of intentional harm? Sin. Sinful.

I used to be so invested in that Catholicism shit, man. And afterward, after I. Did the cutting. I'd be covered in half dried sticky blood. I'd smell the metallic smell so strongly.... because I bled out A LOT... its incredible to me honeslty, how such minor styros and occasional light fat cuts can gush out so MUCH blood. It's a lot. It's more than you'd expect from a little cut. The cuts pool up with blood and then overflow.

It trickles down your legs.

But I'd be patching myself up afterward (basically tryna clean the blood, stop the bleeding, make sure I didnt bleed out onto my sheets and dirty them in my sleep... make sure I didnt leave evidence) and I'd think to myself "this is a sin, I am a sinner..."

Ofc my stupid ass was constantly begging for forgiveness, praying, reading the bible, blah blah, please I just wanna serve you, please help me, please...

What a pathetic state to be in most of my junior high years HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA XD XDDDDD LMAOOOO LMFAOOOOOO ROFLLLLL

like. I had a corner of the school I used SPECIFICALLY to cry.

How sad...

BUT NOW IM IN HIGH SCHOOL!!!! AND I AM PLEASED TO INFORM YOU THAT I HAVE

0 CRYING SPOTS

MANY MAKING OUT SPOTS

like woah its almost like. I dont have to suffer at all.

I'm winning now.

W. What was I talking about before I started rambling. Idk. I forget. Oh well.

POSITIVITY ONLY BABES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ILL KEEP YALL UPDATED I SWEAR

SIGNING OFF,

JUDE SHEPARD

fic writing meme: 1, 12, 17, 18, 21

Oh dang, that’s a lot! Think I’ll put this behind a cut to spare everyone’s dash.

1. The first fandom I wrote and posted for was Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. But! Somewhere in a landfill is a notebook with a very overwrought Animorphs fic about Ax falling in love with my very cool, original-character-donut-steel alien bat-centaur who can tell the future. Every day I thank the universe for not letting my family have internet access until I was 14. Actually, maybe the universe should have held out longer, but you can peep the cringe for yourself over here: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/173909/Fortuna

Yes, that is my old ff.net profile. My only regret is that I didn’t get a chance to back up my ask fics before the site suddenly decided to make a rule banning them and deleted them all. (Me, still salty over that 15 years later? Why, yes actually.)

12. A trope I haven’t tried yet but really want to? It’s hard to narrow it down; there’s a lot of “cliche” fanfic tropes I never let myself write that I want to indulge in this year. I’m thinking about finding one of those bingo cards to use or something. But since I grew up sneaking my mom’s romance novels, I think an arranged marriage would be fun to try if I have to pick just one.

17. The fic I’m most proud of should come as no surprise, lol. I still can’t believe I finished something as long and plotty as finaglc. Would love to manage it again someday. :’)

18. Line/scene dvd commentary: okay okay okay! So there’s this more-or-less abandoned DaphGan Legend of Zelda fic I was writing back in the day, that was just a loose serious of vignettes in chronological order. I had ideas for like 20 chapters and fizzled out because it turns out only about three people on the whole earth give a shit about DaphGan and I can’t write in a complete void of feedback. Anyway, I researched medieval boar hunting techniques because I desperately wanted an action scene culminating in a ~bad omen~ and here it is, so scroll by if you just want to see the last question in the batch:

Within minutes, they were deep enough that the forest canopy closed above them, far above Ganondorf’s head.  In the cool and the dim, and with the rustling of leaves in the breeze overhead sounding almost like waves, Ganondorf felt as though he were at the bottom of a great, ancient lake.  Mist lay in a thick blanket on the ground as high as the smaller horses’ barrels, and a carpet of dead leaves and needles deadened the sounds of their movement.  The hunters had fallen silent.   About that, he had no complaints.

(I recall being inordinately fond of the underwater imagery, because I’d been struggling for how to conceptualize a thick forest for a person who’s spent most of his life in the open desert.)

Save for ferns and scattered herbs, there was little in the way of troublesome plants or low branches beyond the border of the forest, and Ganondorf realized that King Daphnes’ suggestion the day before had, in truth, been polite censure of his clothing rather than any practical concern.  He frowned, and put the thought aside.  It did not matter.

(I was not at all subtle about the Hylians picking at the Gerudo envoy’s appearances, which I think I could handle a little better now, but alas...)

He thought instead on the many sounds surrounding them, his ears straining to hear every one.   There was birdsong, in patterns and notes he had never heard.  Small creatures rustled in the trees.  Water gurgled somewhere out of view.   The woods were full of life in every direction, and Ganondorf quietly marvelled at its richness.

All of this, for the sport of one family?

(This piece of writing is old enough that I was still using the now-defunct “two spaces after a period” rule, wow. Also, hello there, years-old misspelling. :/)

They kept to a walking pace for an hour or two, hushed but alert.  The dogs picked up a scent, the party wheeling around to follow after them.   Ganondorf rode alongside King Daphnes.  The man’s eyes were alight as he looked down the deer trail ahead of the dogs; a small smile of anticipation grew on his face.  "They have something, eh?” he said, in a whisper.  “What did I tell you!”

The lead dog threw its head back, baying.  It launched itself forward and the rest of the pack followed suit, tails held high like flags.

An enormous boar, all sinewy muscle and bristled hide, burst from a nearby thicket and was driven ahead of them.

“Aha!" The king spurred his horse to a gallop, the rest of the party just behind.  Ganondorf quickly found himself bringing up the rear.

The stallion seemed to find this as unacceptable as he did, for without his urging it picked up speed, long strides eating up the ground until the pair were level with the king once more.

(This bit started with the rest of the hunting party giving G-dawg mad shit for insisting on riding his stallion instead of a more appropriate horse, so I had to vindicate him, of course.)

Ganondorf’s eyes were now fixed on the boar.  He crouched low over the stallion’s neck, free hand fisted in the tangles of its mane.  They pulled ahead to run with the dogs, until even the dogs were falling behind them.

"Stay with it!"  The king’s bellow carried over the thunder of the stallion’s hooves.  "Keep running it!”

They ran.  The boar was fast and nimble, leading a chase through dense copses and over fast-flowing streams.  The world fell away until all that remained was the path they weaved through the trees, the rolling strength of the horse beneath him, the forest rushing by in a blur of green and loamy brown, and the boar.

Ganondorf laughed like a child, his heart light for first time since he’d come to this impossibly green land.

The chase ended when the boar made to leap over a fallen log and could not clear it, tumbling end over end.  The beast scrambled to its hooves, brandishing its long tusks.  It had reached the point of exhaustion, steam rising from its hide, muscles quivering with exertion.  It could run no longer.

Ganondorf held it at bay, keeping the point of his spear trained on it.  He did not wish to incite it to charge and risk his horse.  He simply looked at it, watching the boar watch him with wide, red eyes.  Foam gathered at its mouth, and he wondered whether it would die where it stood, if its heart had burst in its chest.

The baying of the dogs was not far off.  The hunters were closing in.

(Still a little puffed up over the juxtaposition of hunting being legitimately thrilling but cruel. Catch my bro getting swept up in the excitement.)

“Excellent work!"  Daphnes was at the head of the party, as he had been to start.  "Oh, well done, man!”

As the dogs circled, barking and snapping, the boar stood its ground, head lowered.  It made a few feints at the dogs foolish enough to attack, but as the hunters closed in it had less and less room to manoeuvre.   Ganondorf could see it rallying for a final effort, weariness flowing into terror and rage.

It roared, lunging, scattering the dogs.   Blood streaked its tusks.  A horse reared when its leg was cut by sharp hooves.  For a moment, it looked to Ganondorf as though it might break away again and escape.

In one practiced motion, Daphnes leapt from his horse and sunk his spear deep into the boar’s side.

Ganondorf’s racing heart froze.  Pain keener than any he had ever felt lanced through him, choking him on a silent cry.  He clutched at his chest, groping for the spear-head that wasn’t there.  His own spear fell from numb fingers to the forest floor.  Terror and agony, all-encompassing, swept over him in a crushing wave.

None of the other hunters noticed his distress.  All eyes were locked on their king’s struggle with the beast.  The boar screamed, running against the spear as if it would happily run the length of it to reach Daphnes with its final breath.  The cross-tree of the spear and the strength of the man wielding it kept the boar’s tusks far from its target, however, and for every drop of blood that spilled from its side a portion of its strength bled away with it.

After what felt far too long, the boar collapsed.  It’s screams had faded to rattling breaths, and when Daphnes stepped forward, knife drawn, it did not resist.

It was on Ganondorf that its red eyes rested when its throat was cut, in some mute accusation or seeking solace, he could not say.  The pain in his chest receded when the final gout of blood ran out onto the dark earth.  By the time Daphnes stood from his task, wiping his hands and blade clean on a rag, Ganondorf might have believed that the pain had been a trick of his imagination.

(This thing with the dead boar was meant to keep coming up in small ways throughout the rest of the vignettes as a harbinger of G-dawg’s ultimate failure and doom along with being an illustration of how he twists and suppresses himself for the sake of pleasing Daphnes, but of course it’ll probably never happen now since I’m five years out. I really did like this idea, though, and this scene was super fun to write. Except for now I’ve noticed another old typo. T_T)

21. The fic that got away? Lots; I actually have a horrible track record for finishing long fics. The one I’m most bummed out by, that I still think of from time to time, was actually a fill for the old Transformers Anonymous Kink Meme on LJ. It was Animated-verse pre-war Ratchet/Ultra Magnus with a detour into Ratchet/Megatron. I was about two thirds of the way done when something happened in the community that I can’t recall anymore derailed me, and I never ended up finishing it. Sometimes I think about scraping it off the meme to at least archive what I had done on Ao3 or something, but I probably won’t lol. It would take forever to track it down since this was back in like, 2012.

A Dance With the Devil: Part 1

Pairing: Incubus!Bucky x Reader Summary: You’ve been plagued recently by sexual dreams, all featuring the same man. He has long dark brown hair and piercing steel blue eyes. Every time, the dreams ends before you’re ever really satisfied (but, truly, you don’t think you would ever stop wanting more of the man). Then, one day, you see him in the waking world, and he seems to know every dirty thought and dream you’ve ever had about him. Warnings: Language (as always), smut, NSFW, 18+, porn gifs, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) Word Count: ~a lot I guess idk. Maybe 3k? A/N: I feel it’s only fair to warn all of you, this is porn. Plain and simple. There is almost no plot whatsoever, but I figured that the other three each had their own unique thing (unexpected/horror ending, sweet story w/ magical reader, heartbreak/bittersweetness, and so… we have smut). Enjoy, my pretties. This has been reposted after my original was deleted in the Great Tumblr Purge 2k18.

Masterlist // The Monster Series Collection // Next Part

“Yeah, baby, just like that,” he purred, holding his cock steady as you speared yourself on it. The stretch was delicious, making you moan loudly as he bottomed out inside of you.

“You take my cock so nice, Doll,” he murmured, reaching around to rub your clit gently as a reward.

“Oh god, please fuck me, master,” you pleaded, hips bucking against his hand.

“God isn’t the one inside of you, my little slut. But since you asked so nicely…” he said silkily, pulling his hips back slowly before snapping them forward again, making you cry out with pleasure. Every move inside of you was the epitome of pleasure, better than anyone you’d had before.

He fucked you relentlessly, setting a brutal pace that had you screaming your satisfaction in minutes. He grabbed your hips, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust forward, his balls slapping lewdly against you. He bent over you and took a nipple roughly in his grasp, pinching it almost painfully hard, causing you to mewl and arch your chest into his hand.

“Please- fuck- I’m so close. Don’t stop!” you begged, savoring the way his pace sped up at your words.

“You gonna be a good girl and cum for me, Doll?” he whispered in your ear before biting your earlobe.

You turned your head to look at him, capturing his lips with your own. His blue eyes never left yours as you nodded and begged, “Please, sir, I wanna cum. Want your cum in me,” you murmured, eyes pleading with him.

“You’re such a fucking slut. I love it,” he said, grinning wickedly. His lips latched onto your shoulder, sucking hard enough to leave love bites. You gasped in mingled pain and pleasure as he bit your neck before soothing it with a lick.

His fingers on your clit picked up their pace and you felt yourself nearing your climax. You reached behind you and gently cupped his balls, causing him to murmur praises in your ear, and you felt yourself about to-

     BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP  

You sat up in your bed, suddenly wide awake. You turned and glared at your phone, which was blaring that god awful alarm.

“Just when I was about to get to the good part…” you muttered angrily, fighting the urge to throw the thing against your wall. You angrily jammed your finger on the Dismiss Alarm button and groaned, flopping backwards onto your bed. Maybe you could just… go back to sleep and hope to pick up the dream where you’d left off?

Bah, that never fucking worked, and you had to get to work if you wanted enough money for food this month.

You wiped a hand over your face, glaring at the sun shining merrily through the window. You were tired. In fact, you were always tired nowadays. You attributed it to the fitful sleep the man in your dreams caused. You weren’t sure exactly when you started dreaming about him, but you enjoyed yourself immensely every time he made an appearance in your dreams… which was every night.

You groaned and got up from bed and went to get ready for your day.

You gazed around the room, base-filled music pounding in your ears. Monsters from almost every species you’d ever heard of were dancing around you, unaware of the perfectly tasty main course in their midst. You still weren’t entirely sure how’d you’d been convinced to come in here. You’d lost Wanda a while ago and you sincerely hoped you wouldn’t end up dead tonight.

The conversation had gone something like this:

“I refuse,” you said bluntly, glaring at your friend, Wanda.

“Come on, it’ll be fine! They won’t know you’re human!” she insisted.

You see, Wanda was a witch. A powerful one, at that. You’d become her friend after a particularly harrowing escape from a vampire together and had been inseparable ever since. She was now trying to convince you to come with her to a supernatural-creatures-only night club, but you weren’t biting.

“Wanda, they’ll spot me from a mile away. Or, if they have ‘wolves at the door, smell me,” you said, crossing your arms obstinately.

“Please, (Y/N)! I’ll mask you! It’ll be fun I promise!” she pleaded, falling on her hands and knees, looking, frankly, a bit pathetic.

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Fine, but you’ll owe me. Now, stop grovelling. It’s beneath you.”

She leaped up and cheered in excitement then quickly ran off, dragging you behind her to get ready for your night out on the town.

So now, here you were. At a club full of supernatural beings, at least half of which would eat you in a heartbeat if they knew you were there.

To Wanda’s credit, though, she’d done a spectacular job of hiding your true identity; Not even the werewolves guarding the door had sniffed twice.

That was, until a familiar set of eyes caught your attention from across the room.

He was staring directly at you, blue-grey eyes trained on you like a hawk watching its prey. The smirk on his lips was just as familiar as his eyes, and you felt heat pool between your thighs at the sight of him.

You knew that people in dreams were people you saw in day-to-day life, but to see him here, of all places-

You stood, frozen, as he gracefully got up from the table in the corner he’d been sitting at, and made his way over to you. He dodged people easily, cutting a path straight to you. A small voice in the back of your mind told you to run, but it was silenced by the other hundreds of voices telling you to run to him; throw yourself at him, even.

Before you knew it he was in front of you, wicked smile on his face. He leaned down until his mouth was by your ear; you could feel his warm breath caress your neck and you shuddered involuntarily.

“Hello, pet. How did you get in here?” he asked quietly, breath tickling your ear.

You felt your blood drain from your face. “H-how did you-” you sputtered, turning to look at him, shocked. How could he know you didn’t belong here?

“Oh, come now, Doll. You think I wouldn’t recognize you after all the fun we have together on a nightly basis?” he asked, tucking a piece of your loose hair behind your ear. His fingertips brushed against your skin lightly and you sighed happily at the contact, however brief it was.

You tried to focus on his words, though just being around him seemed to dull every sense you had and muddle your train of thought.

“What do you mean? I’ve never met you before in my life,” you said, brows furrowing in confusion. I mean, sure, you had a dirty mind, but those were dreams. He wasn’t making any sense. Then again, how often did you hear guys nowadays calling girls “Doll”?

He tsked at you, eyes turning hard as he gazed down at you. “Now, pet. You know how I feel about lyin’,” he chastised, fingertips trailing from your cheek down your neck, lingering over the spot which the man in the dream had sucked a hickey onto your skin. It felt tender under his fingers, as though there really was a bruise there and your hand flew to your neck, covering it self consciously.

“I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong person,” you said, turning on your heel to leave. The tiny animalistic part of your brain was telling you to run, and run fast.

He was in front of you a half second later, head tilted to the side as he regarded you. You froze, looking up at him, your eyes wide with fear. His gaze softened at your expression and he reached towards you slowly, giving you time to move away. You were too terrified to move, and he cupped your cheek gently with his hand. “You don’t need to be afraid of me, Doll. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” he promised, stroking your cheek gently. “Do you understand that?” he asked, eyebrows raised in question.

“Yes,” you murmured, unable to look away from his enchanting blue eyes. You felt yourself take a step forward, but you hadn’t told your body to move. It was like he was an irresistible force and you weren’t sure if you even wanted to try and resist.

He leaned closely to you, voice quiet in your ear. “Now, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. You do know me, Doll. You know me quite well, in fact; intimately, even. Just like I know every nook and cranny of your body, and just how to bring you the pleasure you so crave,” he purred, other arm sneaking around your waist to pull you slowly to his broad chest. Your heart pounded in your ribcage as you listened to his words. Could he really be the man from your dreams? It seemed the only logical explanation, even though it was illogical on principle.

You inhaled his heady scent deeply; even that was the same. It made you dizzy and you leaned farther into his embrace, relaxing. “Ah, yes. There we go,” he said, smiling widely. “You know I’m right, don’t you?” he asked, using his index finger to tilt your chin up so you were looking straight into his eyes.

You nodded, smiling warmly up at him. “Master is always right,” you said devoutly, standing up on your toes to plant a kiss on his neck.

He pushed you back gently but firmly, making you frown. Had you done something wrong?

“Not here, love,” he said, placing a kiss to your forehead. “As much as I love a good show, I don’t want the bottom feeders in here getting any ideas,” he said, glowering around at the assembled monsters in the room. “Come with me, Doll. The pleasure I bring you in your dreams pales in comparison to the real me,” he said, hands roaming down your back. One gave your ass a squeeze and the other snuck around the front to rub your core through your jeans. Your fingers gripped his shirt, knees suddenly weak. “Do you want to come with me? I’ll bring you unimaginable pleasure,” he cooed, planting kisses on your neck and shoulder. You nodded eagerly, fingers tangling in his hair and he chuckled against your skin. “I need to hear you say it, pet,” he purred as one of his hands slipped under your jeans and began teasing you through your underwear.

“I want to go with you. Please, I want you,” you said, biting back the moan in your throat.

His lips were on yours a half second later and he forced his tongue in your mouth, claiming it for his own. You moaned into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“(Y/N)! No!” you heard Wanda yell. In your lusty haze you turned and stared at her, head tilted in confusion. He turned and smiled devilishly at her, eyes completely black.

“You should keep a better watch over your playthings, witch,” he said darkly, looking her in the eye as he snapped his fingers and the two of you vanished from the club.

“That was a demon, (Y/N),” she said incredulously, staring at the spot you’d just been. “You just sold your soul to a demon!” she despaired, hands flying to her face in horror. She’d just doomed you for eternity.

You were aware enough of your surroundings to recognize the room; it was the one you were always in with him in your dreams. The large bed felt just like you remembered, and you stretched out on the silky sheets, reveling in the feeling.

“I take it you remember this place?” he asked, smiling as he laid down beside you, already shirtless.

You turned to him and smiled, placing kisses on his chest as you nodded. He sighed happily at your attention, moving you onto his lap as he scooted up the bed and leaned against the headboard.

“You’re my favorite, you know. It’s why I visit you every night,” he said, burying his face in your neck. “Do you remember my name, Doll?” he asked, peppering light kisses over your skin as his hands roamed under your shirt, rough fingers mapping every inch of your skin.

“James,” you breathed, head thrown back in ecstasy.

“Oh, you remembered! I’m proud of you,” he praised, pulling your shirt over your head.

You reached behind you and unclasped your bra as his hands traveled down to your hips. He pulled you down onto him and gave a slow roll of his hips, making you squirm with need as his cock pressed against your clothed core. You threw your bra to the side, exposing your breasts. He smiled at the sight, and leaned forward, taking a nipple into his mouth. A gasp flew from your lips as his tongue swirled around it and one of his hands reached up, pinching it and rolling it between his fingers. You arched forward, needing more, and ground your hips against him, pulling a low groan from him that rumbled in his chest.

Your fingers ran over the hard planes of his chest, worshiping every inch of it. He was right, even this was better than in your dreams. He felt real and solid beneath you and if he felt this good now-

“Patience, Doll, I know what you’re thinking. We’ll get there soon,” he purred, smirking up at you as he took a nipple between his teeth and nibbled at it gently, causing a moan to escape your lips. “Get up and take everything off, Doll,” he said, relinquishing his grip on your breasts.

“Yes, sir,” you whispered and stood without hesitation, though you missed the feel of him between your legs. You tore at the button with every intention of ripping them off as quickly as possible, but his voice stopped you. “Nuh uh, (Y/N). Slowly,” he said, grinning wickedly at you as he pulled his jeans off and began rubbing his cock through his boxers.

You bit your lip, desire coursing through your veins. He looked delectable laying there, and it took every ounce of your self control to strip slowly.

You made a show of it, knowing it was what he wanted, running your hands slowly down your body before you undid the button, on your jeans. You stared him in the eyes as you slowly lowered the zipper, rubbing your legs together in a desperate attempt to provide some friction for your aching core.

Zipper undone, your hands went to your hips where they slipped in the waistband of your jeans and you slowly- oh, so slowly- shimmied them over your hips, down your thighs, and to the ground. You stepped gracefully out of them, eyes never leaving his except to glance at the erection straining against the thin cloth of his boxers.  

“Not done yet, baby,” he chastised, giving you an expectant look. You snapped out of the daze you hadn’t realized you’d been in. You’d been groping your breast without realizing it, your nipple pinched between your middle and index finger.

You reached down to the flimsy fabric of your underwear, fingers playfully dipping in and out of the fabric. He smirked at you, obviously enjoying the show. “Does that feel good, pet?” he asked, eyeing you hungrily.

“Yes, master,” you murmured, fighting the urge to run your fingers over your clit and through your wet folds. He was letting you have this little pleasure, but that would be crossing a line and you knew it. You turned your back on him and slid your underwear down slowly, bending over so he had a clear view of your soaked lips. You kicked them off, and turned back slowly, eyes full of desire.

He grinned wickedly as he took in your naked body, drinking in every inch of your bare skin. “Even more beautiful in person,” he murmured as he threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood, walking towards you, still stroking his cock through his boxers. “My turn, Doll,” he said, reluctantly letting go of his dick.

You sunk to your knees almost reverently, running your fingers over his chest as you went. You kissed his cock through the fabric, smiling with satisfaction when it twitched due to your attention. He carded his fingers through your hair, and pushed your face gently but firmly closer to himself. You didn’t need any more of a signal. You tugged his boxers down and his cock sprung free, swinging heavily between his legs. He stepped out of them and smiled down at you.

“Do you wanna taste it?” he asked, smiling benevolently down at you.

You nodded eagerly, mouth practically salivating at the sight of the pearly drop of precum on the tip.

“Open up, then, Doll,” he commanded, hand coming down to wrap itself around his thick member. You obliged, opening your mouth widely, and he guided it slowly between your lips. His other hand was tangled in your hair, holding you still.

You licked the precum from the slit, moaning at the taste; It was absolutely amazing. You sucked greedily at his tip, wanting more. He groaned softly, obviously trying his best to stay still while you got used to his size.

When you took so much of him into your mouth that he hit the back of your throat, he stopped trying. “Relax your jaw, pet,” he warned. You had a second to follow his command before he thrust forward, shoving his cock down your throat. You fought the urge to gag against the sudden feeling, but he pulled back a second later. “Damn, Doll. You’re so good,” he murmured before thrusting back in again. You were ready for it this time and had to admit it was easier to take the second time. His other hand joined the first in your hair and he set a slow, sensual pace as he fucked your mouth and throat. You moaned against his cock and the added vibrations made him groan in pleasure. “Yeah, baby, that’s it. I love seeing your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock like that,” he praised, looking down at you hungrily. One of your hands moved to gently cup his balls, the other playing with your nipples.

He pulled out of your mouth suddenly and you nearly followed the movement, missing the feeling of his cock in your mouth, but he pulled you up and, with inhuman speed, bent you over the edge of the bed. You turned to look at him, confused, but a split second later his fingers were teasing your folds, making you gasp and buck into his hand. He massaged the entrance of your ass gently, making you look back at him in concern. Even in your dreams you’d never-

He smiled warmly at you and you immediately felt yourself relax a little. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll save it for another day. I’m just going to give you a taste,” he said wickedly as he slipped a finger in your ass and another into your pussy. You crumpled the sheets in your fists, shoving yourself back onto his hand with a moan. It felt so damn good. You felt so full, so full of him. “So greedy,” he said, admiring the way you were fucking yourself on his fingers.

With a smooth movement, he switched his fingers around until two were in your cunt and you whimpered at the loss from your ass, making him chuckle. “Another time. I promise,” he said, moving his other hand to massage your ass, spanking you lightly every few seconds.

His fingers worked themselves in and out of you, getting drenched in your slick juices. You squirmed, moaning as his fingers brushed your g spot. His fingers were so good, but you needed more. You needed-

“I hear you, Doll,” he said, smiling down at you. He slipped his fingers from your soaking heat and popped them in his mouth, licking them clean. He moaned at the taste, eyes fluttering with pleasure. “You taste even better than I’d imagined,” he said wickedly. Before you knew what was happening, you were on your back and he was over you, kissing you passionately on the lips. He spread your legs open wide as he placed himself firmly between them. His tongue invaded your mouth and you let him; you were his to command, after all.

He broke the kiss after a moment, gaze lustful. “Beg for it,” he commanded, teasing his head against your entrance. “Tell me how much you want it,” he cooed, nibbling on the shell of you ear.

“I want you so damn much, master. I’ve wanted you like this since our first night together. I’ve dreamed of you fucking me for months. I need you inside of me; need you to make me yours,” you pleaded, gasping as he ground his cock over your clit.

“You’re already mine,” he growled, kissing you hard on the lips as he entered you slowly. He broke the kiss, smiling wickedly at the thoughts running through your head as his cock stretched you out. “You didn’t ever let on that you were a virgin… my lucky day,” he murmured, moving to your neck to suck love bites into it as he began fucking you at a steady pace. His hips were slamming into you so hard that he had to hold you in place.

  “Master, your cock’s so good! I feel so full,” you moaned, hands playing with your breasts.

“You take it so good, my little cock slut,” he praised, hips snapping into yours.

“Always want you in me,” you said, moaning as his hips met yours again and again and again, the lewd sound of skin hitting skin filling the room.

“Oh, little pet. I intend to never stop fucking you,” he said, groaning as he plowed into you.

You smiled blissfully. “Thank you, master. Fuck, thank you!” you gasped, release coiling tightly in your lower stomach.

“Feel that?” he asked, fingers ghosting over your clit, putting you one step closer to your orgasm. You nodded eagerly, wanting him to know how good he made you feel. “You’re gonna cum all over my cock soon, aren’t you?” he asked, hips snapping into yours.

“Yes, sir!” you moaned.

“If you cum without my permission I won’t cum inside of you,” he warned, speeding up his already unrelenting pace. “Understand?” he murmured, kissing a line down your neck to your breasts. He sucked a nipple in your mouth, steel blue eyes looking at you expectantly.

“Won’t cum. I promise,” you said, breathless. You didn’t want to disappoint him, but you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold out.

He smiled at you, seemingly satisfied. He grabbed one of your legs and tilted you a little, somehow managing to get even deeper in you at the new angle, immediately putting your promise to the test.

You guessed he was getting close; his hips were beginning to stutter in their rhythm. Then, his hand flew to your clit and began rubbing it in small circles. “Cum for me, Doll,” he said, blue eyes locking onto yours.

The order was all you needed and you came on his cock, walls fluttering around his throbbing dick. You screamed his name, how much you loved him inside of you, how much you needed him. With a grunt, he was cumming, thick ropes of cum painting the inside of your walls, his cock twitching with the release. He pulled out of you a moment later and collapsed heavily on top of you. He turned his head to the side and peppered your temple and cheek with kisses.

You giggled, turning your head to catch his lips with your own. You kissed lazily, post-sex haze satisfying the two of you for the moment.

“I’m keeping you forever,” he murmured, rolling on his side, and pulled you to his chest. You snuggled against it, loving the warmth he provided against the chilly air.

You were tired, so tired. You looked up at him and gasped. His eyes had turned completely black.

He sensed your unease and frowned. “I’m an incubus, babe. Sex demon. Normally, what we just did would have killed you. Lucky for you, I’ve taken a liking to you. We’re going to be having fun together for a very, very long time,” he said, hands venturing down your body.

“I don’t care what you are,” you murmured, gently brushing his hair out of his face. His eyes flicked back to their piercing blue and he smiled brilliantly at you.

He lifted your leg and his cock prodded at your entrance gently before he sheathed himself completely inside of you. His mouth found your neck and he bit hard enough to draw blood, making you gasp from the mingled pain and pleasure.

Yes, you would have fun with your James for a long, long time.

Next Part

A Proposition (Duncan Shepherd X Reader)

i accidentally deleted the ask that inspired this, but essentially someone wanted hate smut. there’s no actual smut in this, mainly bc i wrote this at like 8 am and was too tired to get into the nasty shit, but it’s basically pre-smut where duncan seduces the reader. sorry to blueball y’all LMAOO

word count: 1.1k 

warnings: pre-smut, sexual tension 

//

“So you’re the journalist who’s been trying to ruin my career,” came the booming voice of Duncan Shepard as you made your way through his large office doors. He chuckled, but you knew he found no humor in the situation; he’d been trying to coerce you into a meeting with him for weeks, desperate to convince you to stop with your frequent exposé articles regarding the corruption behind his app. Of course you wouldn’t give in that easy, but your boss had suggested you take him up on his offer to meet, just to see what might be said. If anything, it could give us new material for future articles, your boss had said. So you’d accepted, albeit reluctantly.

You had to admit, you were intimidated by Duncan, with his designer clothes and handsome face and confident exterior, but you weren’t about to let him know that.

“I have to admit, you’re a lot younger than I thought you’d be. Prettier, too.” He dragged his words out in a condescending fashion, leaning back in his chair to cross his hands over his stomach as he regarded you through pale blue eyes. You scowled.

“How charming,” you said, approaching him further with your head held as high as your body would allow. “But I’m afraid it’ll take a lot more than chauvinistic remarks disguised as flattery to help your cause.” You reached his desk, leaning forward to place your palms flat against the rich wood surface.

He raised his eyebrows. “My cause? And what might that be?”

“C’mon, Mr. Shepherd. We both know why you called me here. You want me to stop publishing articles about you and your app.” It was Duncan’s turn to frown, creases forming between his eyebrows as his plump lips curved downwards. “So what’s the offer? Money? Exposure?”

You placed your hands on your hips and cocked your head, watching as Duncan slowly stood up out of his chair. “Well, what do you want?”

“What I want, Mr. Shepherd, is for you and your family to stop being involved in corruption.” At this, his eyes narrowed, and you could see a dark anger pool in them. He made his way around to the other side of the desk, and you resisted your sudden urge to cower under the man’s towering frame.

Suddenly, he licked his lips, shooting you a predatory grin as he casually leaned one hip against his desk. “Alright, Ms. (y/l/n). I suppose I’ll have to take to different measures to spare my family’s reputation, then.”

You raised your eyebrows, crossing your arms in front of your sensible silk button-down.

“Does the name (your url) mean anything to you?” he asked, immediately looking triumphant as he saw the way your mouth fell open. He took a step closer to you, blinking his eyes with faux innocence, only about a foot away from you now. “Doesn’t ring a bell?”

“Where did you hear that?” you demanded, cheeks flushing. Before you’d become an esteemed journalist, you’d dabbled in… literature, of the erotic variety, online. It’d been nothing more than a hobby, but if it got out to the world what sort of vulgar things you’d written, you’d become something of a laughingstock amongst your peers.

“Let’s just say I have my sources,” he said. “I must say, though, I was rather impressed at your extensive selection of terms for the word ‘penis’.”

“Right. Um. Why don’t we just keep that between us, huh?” you asked desperately, heart sinking when he shook his head, a half-smile formed across his plump lips.

“Not likely. Unless, of course, you’re willing to cooperate with me.” He came even closer to you, and you were finding it difficult to ignore how stunningly handsome he was.

“Mr. Shepherd…” you mumbled, all at once feeling very dizzy. The fact that a man like Duncan Shepherd had read those words you’d written filled you with a sort of humiliation you’d never experienced before, and you were certain it showed. Suddenly, you were filled with a burst of indignation, and you snapped from your current hold.

“You mean to tell me that you equate dishonesty and corruption with erotic fan fiction?” you said, just barely ignoring your urge to slap the smug look right off his face. “You, Duncan Shepherd, are pathetic. Threatened by an outspoken woman who happens to be confident in her sexuality.”

“It’s hardly about sexuality,” he remarked, his eyes dropping down to size you up. “I really couldn’t care less about your little writing endeavors. But we both have careers to protect, don’t we?”

You just stared at him with a contemptuous glare; you knew he’d have no qualms against exposing you if you didn’t comply with his demands. He seemed to have you backed into a corner, and you resented him for it. “So what do you want? An article recanting the truth?”

“Precisely,” he said with a smile. “It would also be nice to see some kind words about my app in your publication.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you snapped, momentarily dropping your professionalism.

“Is that what you want?” he asked, taking another step towards you. You considered pulling away, but something inside you forced you to stay still. “For me to fuck you?”

You gasped as he reached forward, trailing his fingertips up your hips with a feather light touch. You couldn’t believe this was happening. Worse still, you couldn’t believe you wanted this to happen.

“Excuse me?” you said, hoping to god your voice didn’t waver. He could, of course, tell that you were flustered from the way your eyes darted frantically throughout his office, hands trembling at your sides.

“Well, it’s clear you don’t want money or exposure from me. But you must want something. And by the way you’ve been looking at me, I’ve become under the impression that what you want,” he said, bringing his lips to your ear and ghosting them teasingly against your skin. “Is to be fucked.”

“I- Mr. Shepherd…” your voice trailed off, his large hands reaching around your body to lightly cup your ass.

“Now don’t act so modest, (y/n). I’ve seen first hand what sort of thoughts go through that filthy mind of yours.”

All you could muster was a soft sigh as he began kneading your ass through your form fitting skirt, hiking up the fabric to give him better access to your pantyhose-clad skin. You were melting under his touch, and he knew it.

“So?” he said, letting go of your ass to tug idly at the hem of your shirt. “Do we have a deal?”

You didn’t have much time to think it through, because within seconds you were pressed flush against his desk, his hard-on pushing obscenely against your thigh through his pants. You were met with a wave of red-hot arousal, and all at once your inhibitions faded away into pure, sinful lust.

“Yes, Mr. Shepherd, we do.”

dangerous night

freewood // 6400+ words // fahc au

description: The fears of being in love with a criminal like the Vagabond become apparent, and Gavin is left to face the music. Sometimes, all it takes is the world to tell you that you've had it too good for too long for your life to change drastically.

notes: this contains physical and some psychological torture! not explicit but not vague descriptions either, so this is a darker fic compared to rest of the series despite the good end. this was me practicing darker, angstier writing; it's no worries if this isn't your cup of tea! take care of yourselves <3. otherwise, onwards, and song inspo is dangerous night by thirty seconds to mars.

this fic is also posted on ao3 (link)!

Things come to a head on Tuesday.

They’ve been living too-busy weeks for the last month or so, barely managing to sneak in phone calls and text messages — between multiple projects on Gavin’s end and more dangerous heists on Ryan’s, there’s little time for much else besides work and mutual yearning.

“I promise, Ry, I’ll call you when I get home. A shoot’s running late after a wank deleted important footage last week,” Gavin complains. He leans against a wall near a corner, far away from any prying eyes or eavesdropping ears of his coworkers. He feels too on edge to deal with anyone on set, already hating the idea of working overtime for an idiot’s mistake. “No, don’t kill him, as much as I appreciate the thought. They’d suspect me anyway, if you did do that.”

“Not with me killing him. I’m good at clean kills and planting false evidence, so that wouldn’t be a worry. But if you’ll be okay handling him…”

A puff of laughter escapes Gavin at hearing Ryan sound so blase about his criminal skills. If he were a saner man, he’d be concerned for himself and the criminal he associated himself with; instead, it’s an amusing and comforting sentiment from Ryan. Lovely Ryan who’s very much one of the most murderous men to walk Los Santos but also the sweetest boyfriend that Gavin’s had the chance to date.

“I’d still be interviewed about him anyway, plus it’d be less work to re-shoot the footage than be a murder suspect,” Gavin reasons, playing with a loose string from his shirt. He frowns. “The bloke’s been chewed out anyway from what I heard walking by the main office. Might’ve been let go early after that.”

“If he’s not careful, he might let go of his life early too.”

Gavin giggles, hiding his mouth behind his hand. “Ry, please, it’s fine. He’s got what he deserved, and it’ll teach him to be reckless about files next time. ‘s annoying to do overtime, but can’t do much about it now.”

He hears an incoherent grumble from Ryan, barely snatching a few words like ‘revenge’ and ‘fucking idiot’. Despite the context, Gavin’s heart grows fonder of the man on the other side of the line, putting up with mundane complaints and willing to help in his own odd, illegal way. It makes the situation a little less dreary feeling.

“Alright, break’s over, everyone! Let’s finish up this last scene to shoot, then we can finally head home for the night!” A booming voice exclaims, just as tired and irritated as the rest of them, and there's a sudden flurry of activity. There’s skittering steps, clamoring cameraman, and a rebuilt set for the current scene. “Let’s get this shit done!”

“Gotta go now?”

Gavin groans softly, pushing himself off the wall as a wave of disgruntled assent follows the supervisor’s words. “You heard that, huh? I just hope we finish up in an hour or two, maybe get back to the apartment before one for once.” His eyes dart to the supervisor, and he watches the lady start her rounds to check on everyone’s position. “I have to hurry, or else I’ll be like the other guy.”

“Alright, just be careful on your way home. If you don’t pass out the moment you get home, phone me or shoot me a text at least, dear.”

Ryan’s voice is soft, nothing like his voice before when he’d been threatening the incompetent guy, and there’s an obvious fondness dripping from the petname. It makes something lodge in Gavin’s throat, all the words and affection he has for the man stuck there, while his heart beats like a jackhammer against his chest.

“I promise,” he swears. His hand tightens on the phone as if it’d stop him from ending the call. “You have full permission to break into my house if I don’t call or answer, but don't stay up too late for me, okay?”

Ryan chuckles, low and sweet, and Gavin wishes he could spend the night like this. But the grumbling of his coworkers and the imminent rage of his supervisor warns him otherwise, pushes him to murmur, “G’night, Ry.”

He ends the call there, resists the urge to stay on even longer, but it’s another minute until he can stop staring at the phone, chest feeling a little more hollow than before — it’s been far too long since their last date. It takes another booming warning for his feet to rush towards his spot, flitting between exhausted coworkers and an irritated supervisor. Even when he’s finishing the set-up of the camera, all muscle memory by now, he finds himself thinking of Ryan.

He doesn’t know how he managed to get attention from someone like him, but Gavin is grateful for it. He’s done fine all his life without a partner by his side, and even after dating Ryan, Gavin’s still an individual who can live his separate life; they’re not dependent on each other. It’d just be nice to get a break though, spend a day with Ryan again before their busy lives overtake them again.

He misses Ryan an awful lot.

------- 

[to love <3]:

on my way home, call you soon.

The reshoot of the footage ends at midnight, which is leagues better than the shoot ending at one am.

Gavin had been one of the last to remain, making sure all of the files were saved properly and creating backups, but he manages to clock out at a decent twelve thirty. He’d rather take the extra thirty minutes rather than another night of overtime and bringing down the rest of his coworkers with him; they’re all overworked and tired in this business, and it’s one less thing to worry about tonight.

Clocked out, Gavin waits under by the doorway of the stage five building where the closest, working lamppost on the grounds is. He scrolls through social feeds, eyes-half lidded and thumb slow; his back is aching with his heavy backpack, energy completely drained, and his brain is lagging behind in processing anything. He barely scrounges up the energy to tuck closer into his jacket against a sudden wind sweeping by, the September chill greeting him.

10 minutes away , his rideshare app informed him when he placed the request. An uncomfortably long wait at past midnight in Los Santos; it was the downfall of being in this field, having to work in big studios out of the city’s way.

He shifts his backpack to the side, pulling out a small stress ball before adjusting his bag again. 6 minutes isn’t much in the grand scheme of things, but every minute outside is nerve wracking, and it’s better for Gavin to squeeze a stress ball than use his nails to scratch his fingertips. Last time he went without a stress ball, the skin of his fingertips were shredded and sensitive. It’s an ugly memory, so he tries to focus on the ball, not his precarious situation or anything else.

It doesn’t work for long.

“Hey, uh, excuse me! Mister? Hellooo ?”

Gavin jerks in surprise at the sudden appearance of a person beside him, squeezing the stress ball too hard. He turns to see the person trying to converse with him, but his body stills as he finally realizes who it is in their embarrassed, awkward stature; memories of the harsh yelling and angry coworkers from today play in his mind, a man creeping out of the set with his tail between his legs.

“U-Uh...hello?”

The guy perks up at Gavin’s acknowledgement albeit its hesitant tone. “Hey, I...didn’t think you’d reply honestly, but this is a nice surprise,” he beams, bright and open, and its vivaciousness in the late night unsettles Gavin. “I’m Adam! But, uh, maybe you knew that already…”

“I didn’t want to come off as rude,” he mumbles; he doesn’t mention how he didn’t know Adam’s name before. “‘m Gavin.”

He returns to squeezing the stress ball, trying his damndest to not fidget so obviously in front of the man. He’s not afraid of the stranger per se, but the situation is odd , and something nervous bubbles in his stomach; everything in Los Santos is more dangerous at night, and there’s alarm rising slowly to the surface in his mind.

A quick check of his phone yields a notification update: 5 minutes away .

Adam laughs before slapping Gavin’s back out of some misplaced camaraderie. Gavin winces. “No worries, Gavin! I wouldn’t blame you if you had anyway, after what I did back there.” His smile drops slightly, and his next words are a little somber, “Made a lot of extra work for everyone on the project. I know you’re one of the higher ups in charge of cameras and slow motion filming, so...I wanted to apologize for what I did, being reckless.”

And Gavin — he blinks, taken aback. He had expected something awful to happen — like a surprise mugging — but certainly not an apology, one that seemed so genuine too. He’s not the best at reading people, but the way Adam shifts awkwardly as he waits for a reply and the odd, hopeful glint in his eyes with every sneaked glance — it looks real, like he’s truly remorseful for what he’s done.

“It wasn’t good what you did, not very professional,” he starts, his tone stern like his parents’ during his rowdy childhood. He’s always been soft at heart, Ryan as proof of it, and he knows he’s forgiven the man already, but it doesn’t hurt to include a lesson. “We managed to save the re-shooting and back up the files from today at least. Be careful with your files next time, this incident could lock you out of future jobs.”

“I know, it was dumb of me! I promise I’ll be a lot more careful in future jobs! Well...if I can find them after this.” Adam gives a self-deprecating laugh, scratching the back of his head. It looks like the gravity of his mistake finally dawned on him.

“Good luck with that.” Gavin nods as he gives one last, polite smile. He peers down at his phone, sighing in relief when the tracker read 1 minute away . “I’ll have to head off soon, my ride is a minute away,” he informs the man. A quick heads-up that Gavin’s about to be away from the admittedly sketchy but kind stranger. That as polite as he’s been, Gavin still wants to be far away.

Adam waves a hand affably and unbothered, grinning. “No worries, it’s late, and I’d wanna get home soon too! I wouldn’t even have stayed this long if I didn’t have anything to do here still.”

Gavin hums mindlessly until he realizes why the stranger had to stay back. He freezes; the man had been ejected early in the shoot today, revoked of any responsibilities when the missing files had been stumbled on, and been given an order to leave the entire shoot. As little as Gavin knows about the situation, the man shouldn’t have been here still.

And that — that’s sketchy.

All of Gavin’s instincts fire up, and he gives a forced laugh as he takes a step back. The red flags from before are waving wildly now, no way to ignore them, and warnings are blaring in his head like announcements over the intercom. He’s not safe.

He’s not safe at all.

Not when Adam’s eyes suddenly narrow, relieved grin from before morphing into something more malicious. Not when Adam is matching every step of Gavin’s to keep the distance close between them. Not when Adam is lifting his fist and aiming it towards Gavin’s face, much too quick for Gavin to shield himself from.

Pain blooms across his right cheek, all the way up to his temple and jaw. His eyesight shifts out of focus, startled by the hit, and his brain is still reeling at the new turn of events; he doesn’t even process the next punch that lands on his left cheek, a knee digging straight into his stomach before he collapses forwards in a ball. All he can process is the sharp slide across the rough concrete, the sting of his forehead landing on the hard surface.

He’s dazed right when a black car skids by, thrown into the trunk haphazardly, and the back of his head thumps harshly against something metal. Groaning, all Gavin can do is think about just how close he was in evading this situation.

( 0 minutes away .)

--------

Gavin’s lived a good portion of his life in Los Santos already. He’s got almost a decade of experience, actually.

He’s gotten a feel on how to live in a city as filthy and underhanded as Los Santos — from avoiding contact with certain people to minding his own business for the most part, he makes the smallest ripple he can in the pond. No need to bring extra attention to himself with the types of people lingering in the city. He’s figured out how to make a life here as safe as he could, formed out of theories and trials from the last near decade.

Meeting the Vagabond had screwed that entire safety net up. Falling in love with Ryan had burned the netting completely, with nothing left to salvage and lapping quickly at the foundations of his life here. He’s been left to dangle over a pit of what ifs, worst case scenarios, and bare contingency plans, only held up by Ryan’s grounding presence and the all-consuming desire to be by Ryan’s side. A belief in Ryan being there for him when Gavin needs him, like Gavin is for Ryan.

The fear of it all, or what little of it he could feel nowadays, doesn’t lessen the affection he has for the criminal. He had understood the danger, and if anything, a part of him had welcomed it; nowadays, being able to love Ryan, all the civilian and criminalistic parts of him, is more than enough reward for the new danger Gavin had placed himself in.

Gavin’s made his peace with it. Had done it months ago, on a couch and an apartment away when falling in love with Ryan had been an inevitable outcome. Gavin’s rationalized it over and over again, and he’s calm about it, but it didn’t feel so real until he’s face-to-face with the consequences.

The consequences feel much like a bucket of freezing cold water dumped over Gavin for the third time already, leaving him to tremble in his drenched clothes. There’s a draft somewhere near him, wind sneaking through to brush over him and chilling him to the core; the sharp tang of ocean spray, the deafening crash crash crash of the waves remind him how far he is from help.

“I won’t lie, didn’t think you’d even make it this far. Sure it’s just water, but it’d be a real damn shame to go out ‘cus of the fuckin’ cold,” a voice chuckles. “I’ve met bitches weaker.”

Gavin flinches as a hand slides through his hair and yanks his head back, a sting washing over his scalp at the harsh grip and digging nails. His back is arched unnaturally, almost grotesquely, with how the hand pulls him, and he whimpers in pain, shutting his eyes tight. He squirms uncomfortably, but his rope-bound wrists and ankles argue against him.

“Now, now, don’t be like that. Open up and look at me, Gav, otherwise I’ll have to make you. Don’t make me tell you again.”

It takes another rough tug at his hair until Gavin forces his eyes open, watery with unspilled tears and poured saltwater. He peers up at the man — Adam , he reminds himself — leering over him, this stranger who faked his way into Gavin’s good graces for a fleeting moment — just enough to distract him from how horrible the city’s people could be at times. Polite, little Gavin who hates being rude and making a fuss, being played a fiddle with no shame.

Beneath the pain and gut-wrenching fear, hurt is simmering. It can’t help but make itself known as he bares his teeth, as tiny as it is, and snarl a quiet threat. He must’ve looked less intimidating than a cat, but it must have been enough insolence for his kidnapper.

Adam looms over him with disappointed clicks his tongue. His face twists into an ugly expression as he releases Gavin, only to slap him across the face, and the sharp smack! echoes in the lonely structure. “I suggest you don’t give me an attitude. I’ve been kind to you with mild punishments, taking it slow and steady ‘stead of jumping into the real toys.”

A raging fire blooms across the spread of reddening skin, and the buzzing skin makes Gavin’s mind dizzy. Makes him squint his teary eyes and turn his brain fuzzy as he tries to force himself to ride out the pain; he’s never had a good pain tolerance, and he can feel it kicking his ass now.

“Now, c’mon, you just gotta tell me what I wanna hear, buddy,” Adam croons, softly and maliciously kind. His touch is gentle now as it combs through Gavin’s hair, and Gavin isn’t sure which is more terrifying — the obvious violence or the sweet trickery, the quick switch between the two. “I know you’ve been with the Vagabond for a while now, it’s hard to miss him always visiting the same place if you know what to look for. Both of you were horrible at keeping this a secret.”

“We...we weren’t trying,” Gavin mumbles through chattering teeth. With a loud yowl, the ocean winds slam against the building, and a chill is starting to seep into Gavin’s bones. He shivers, hunching over himself as best he can.

The man cocks a brow. “You’re kidding me. You two, a famous criminal and a clean civilian, didn’t try to hide it?” He scoffs, and he shoves Gavin’s head away and loses his hold. “Are you two absolute morons? Or did the Vagabond overestimate himself, his reputation? Did he think he could protect you just by name?”

Gavin shudders. A cold heaviness, his clothes and something else he can’t place, is settling over his body as he mumbles in a tone colored with hurt, “We just wanted to be together. Nothing more.”

“Idiotic.” Adam sneers, looking almost disgusted by the sentiment. He levels a calculating look towards Gavin, and its empty, soulless nature pierces through Gavin; makes him feel less than human, nothing more than an object in the way. “I’m afraid that it was never in your cards to have anything like that. You forfeited normalcy and peace the moment you associated with the Vagabond. Forfeited safety .”

He rolls his shoulders as he paces around Gavin, each step a gentle thud on the rank floor. With a silent flick, quick and precise, the man unsheathes a knife and presses it against Gavin’s throat. Lets the cool blade raise prickly goosebumps on tanned flesh, the sharp edge whispering reminders of what it could do, and the grip on the back on Gavin’s neck pinning him down.

“This doesn’t change my plan. Don’t take it personally, though. We wanted the Vagabond, you were just the perfect bait,” the man whistles. “Blame your boyfriend for being kidnapped. Shoulda’ covered his tracks better, shouldn’t have thought you could be together with no consequences.”

-----------

Knife wounds hurt like a bitch.

That’s the first thing Gavin learns. He’s had little experience to go off on when comparing how painful things are, but he can say without a doubt that getting slashed and stabbed is up there on the scale. He wants to say that it’ll be the most painful thing on the scale, but the rising irritation of the man, a subdued force building beneath his skin as he scowls — it feels like a terrible premonition of Gavin's future.

Suddenly, all those jokes of stubbing his pinky toe against furniture being the worst aren’t funny anymore.

“Look, I didn’t wanna do any of this to you. Even tried being nice, going easy on the torture—” And Gavin’s wounds protest loudly to that. “—for a civilian just caught up in the criminal’s wildness. It happens, we know, the thrill of it all is tempting. But you’re actin’ like a horrid bitch now, y’know.”

Adam plunges his knife into the soft flesh of his thigh, dull edges leaving a trail of burning destruction as it sinks deeper in. He looks almost bored, despite the venom in his voice and the rage behind his eyes, as he makes eye contact with Gavin. Twists the knife as he does so, and Gavin screams in pain, throat dry and hoarse from the previous wounds.

“You wouldn’t have all these wounds on you if you just told me what you knew about the Vagabond,” the man croons. “Are you actually going to keep quiet and take all this torture for a criminal? This is mild, y’know, and it’d be a shame to permanently harm you for a criminal who doesn’t even love you, and you don’t love.”

At that, Gavin makes a choked noise. His eyes are watery, barely able to see Adam through narrowed eyes, as anger and pain and fear flash across his face. His thigh twitches out of reflex from the pain, but it only works up the shredded muscles more. “No…”

Adam perks up, and the building rage from before is replaced. A sly grin on his lips and eyes shining with glee, he crows, “Oh? Don’t tell me you actually love the Vagabond? He’s a man-turned-monster, heartless and merciless. Did you know that he’s got a reputation for being cruel, known for being a masterclass in torture and assassination?”

Gavin whimpers as the man drags the knife out, tries not to let his body jolt as the cool but wet blade grazes over another knife wound. He wonders how much of his skin had been turned to blood trails, if his skin became more red instead of tan — less of a human, more of a brutalized half-corpse. He refuses to look down and see.

“Whatever you think of him,” Adam continues, “he’s got you fooled. You don’t even know the half of it about the Vagabond, and I’m more than willing to bet that he doesn’t love you. Shame on you, really, on that life choice.”

And Gavin can’t suppress the tears anymore.

-----------

Adam is unfortunately smart.

Each visit from him onwards becomes more and more like psychological warfare. He still has a weapon on him, something to inflict wounds to drive the point of his words home, and it’s escalated as much as his methods have.

Gavin hisses as Adam pushes the butt end of a lit cigarette against his palms, all his thrashing for nothing compared to the tight knots that tie him down. All he can do is catch a glimpse of his torturer from his peripherals, hoarse pleads of mercy and half-incoherent cries escaping his tongue to no avail.

“I wouldn’t have had to resort to this if you just tell me what I want,” Adam says. He repeats the message as if it’d convince Gavin by the fiftieth iteration. “Tell me what you know about the Vagabond, all the gritty, personal details, and I’ll let you go happily.”

Gavin’s shoulders slump in brief relief as the man lets up on the burn mark, even as the man takes his chin between his fingers to tilt it up. Makes their eyes meet, one pair lighting up in pain and the other patiently smug. Gavin can’t keep it up for long before his eyes are falling shut, and he squeezes them close tight; his head is spinning, the pain catching up past the waves of adrenaline.

“I…”

“What is it? Just tell me, and I won’t hurt you anymore,” the man presses. “You won’t have to be hurt for your selfish, little boyfriend. After all, I don’t see any sign of him coming, and that says a lot about how highly he thinks of you, doesn’t it? Why are you still holding onto hope for someone who frankly doesn’t care for you?”

Gavin shakes his head furiously, trying his best to shake off the words that the snake of a man is murmuring to him. His hands are trembling with the searing burn and the barely there hope for Ryan to find him, for Ryan to swoop in and prove the man’s every single word wrong. For Ryan to save him before he gives in to those awful, insecure thoughts and the bubbling misery inside him.

God, he hopes .

“The Vagabond may be your lover, but he’s lying to you. Whatever you may think of him, he’s only playing you,” the man drones on. He flicks cigarette ash across Gavin’s face, runs a thumb over the grain. “Consorting with criminals is dangerous, you must’ve known. But did Vagabond ever tell you the truths of his past, the type of people after him?”

Gavin doesn’t answer. Can’t really, with how his throat feels dry, a lump stuck there with no way to swallow it down.

“No? I’m unsurprised. After all, the Vagabond had a horrible past. Ruthless, sadistic mercenary who wanted the thrill of it all. It didn’t matter who got hurt to him, families or friends, as long as he got his kill and his payment,” he scowls. He looks away from Gavin, eyes pinpointed on something in the distance and a cold, sharp anger forming in his gaze. “So much of a monster, we all called him Malicious . The terror of the South, until one day...he just disappeared.

“But those sorts of things, you can’t just run away from them. They’ll follow you until you suffer the consequences, chase you down until you trip up, and have you questioning every single movement of yours. Will it be the move that finally gets you killed?”

Gavin is sobbing softly now, head down as he tries to hide away from the man; from the horrid words that paint a dark picture in his mind, slowly cracking at the memories he has of Ryan. It’s an awful, awful corruption.

The man shakes himself out of his stupor, snorting at Gavin crying and looking pitifully small. “He made a wrong move, after years of playing the game perfectly,” he says carelessly. “I’m afraid that wrong move was you.”

There’s another sharp flash of heat, against his shoulders instead now, and Gavin screams. It stays pressed and pressed and pressed longer than before, burning his skin, and the scent of it is acrid. His muscles flex and tense, his body trying to pull away even as rope digs into his wrists, as fear and anxiety claws itself into Gavin, makes a home in his frazzled brain. The pain is blinding now, seeping into his mind with flashes of white and a headache forming and just—

Gavin can’t handle it anymore. He faints.

------------

He wakes here and there. Sometimes it’s of his own volition, other times it’s to a swift punch to his face. At least the water is done for now, even if he’s just as cold and probably sick now.

His body is exhausted beyond belief still, and each moment of consciousness is brief. It’s just enough to register how much his body is hurting, the sloppy bandages feeling like hell as it brushes against his injuries and the taste of blood prominent on his tongue.  Just enough for Adam to question him again and for Gavin to mumble a denial.

Gavin wonders, for the nth time since he’s been taken, if Ryan is looking for him. Wonders if Ryan is even aware of his disappearance and the hell he’s going through, if he’ll actually save him. And the ugliest part of himself wonders if what the man said is true, if he really should be putting up with all this torture for an unknown factor.

He can’t give it much thought past that, not when his brain is shutting down and trying so hard to rest for whatever else lies in his future. He gives in easily.

----------

There is a rescue for him, 4 hours past his kidnapping and right when Gavin’s given up on himself.

He doesn’t know this yet. Doesn’t dare get his hopes up at all, as low as it is, and the situation he’s in. Not when he’s woken up by the loud gunshots that echo nearby, just outside of the warehouse, and it has him startled for a moment; maybe the man had deemed him far too stubborn, far too useless for his situation, decided that it was Gavin’s time now. There had been no sign of the man near him when the shots fired, but maybe it was a dramatic build-up — one last effort to play with him.

He takes the thought of his execution with less panic than he thought, calming himself down after the initial flurry of emotions. Maybe it’s his usual nature coming back to him, body adjusting to grow detached from the fear he experienced today, or maybe it’s his own way of beating the man at his game, to not care anymore. He didn’t know.

What he does know is that he’s awake, but his eyes are shut as he hangs his head down. Past the ringing in his ears, he hears the thudding of multiple footsteps grow louder and louder, and he waits for the verdict on his life. Hears the door slam open, metal clanging against the wall, and wonders briefly if it’ll be delivered by bullet or by blade.

----------

Los Santos is not a kind city. Gavin’s known that for a long time now; only fools would believe in that sentiment, and fools never last long in the city.

But when he wakes up again, unbound and in Ryan’s arms this time, the belief falters for a flicker of a moment. The way he’s held by Ryan, an imposing but warm figure at his back with broad arms wrapped tight around his chest, how a body that has killed before cradles him sweetly as if afraid of its strength — it is kind. It makes Gavin remember that even in the darkest eras, there’s good to be found amidst the agony.

His mouth is dry, and his tongue is heavy, feeling out of place. Upon opening his eyes, slightly squinted in pain from keeping them shut for so long, he sees the passing streaks of light from lamp posts and the occasional vehicle — he’s a car then. He hears the low volume of the radio, but the words don’t make sense; the music feels like television snow in his head, incomprehensible and fuzzy.

“Gavin?”

And as much as music is fuzzy, that voice isn’t. This voice is important , his brain tells him, and therefore can’t be forgotten, should not be forgotten. So he doesn’t, and it’s with more energy than it should take that Gavin finds the words to say.

“Hi, love,” Gavin croaks out with a soft smile, wincing when it tugs at the split lip and pulling at his bruised cheek. He must look like a right mess, but all he can feel is a heady relief; Ryan is here, close to him and holding on tightly. “You look absolutely minging,” he says.

His thumb brushes under Ryan’s eyes, where heavy eyebags reside. In their months of being together and Ryan’s murmurings of his insomnia, Gavin’s never seen them so prominent, never seen Ryan so exhausted. His shoulders are sagging down, his eyes bloodshot, and every faint line makes Ryan look aged.

His hand drops down, already tired from exerting that much energy in a simple action. “What happened to you, Ry?”

“Gavin, darling,” Ryan whispers, a quiet mortification bleeding through. Large, calloused hands cup his cheek with a touch lighter than air; it’s a gentle touch, afraid of damaging Gavin more than the other man had. “What did they do to you ?”

Gavin’s brows furrow. After the exhausting series of events he’s gone through, his brain can’t process much and of what it can, it’s not very fast. He remembers, though, the one man that had taken him and hurt him; there had been no one else there. Adam.

But all he voices out is: “They?”

Ryan gives a small, slow nod. He looks...concerned, but whether it’s the confusion evident on Gavin’s face or the wounds evident everywhere else on him, Gavin doesn’t know. “There was a group of them there. But most of them were sitting around near the front of the place in a black car,” he explains. “It doesn’t matter though. Not anymore, when they’re already dead and about to rot in the ground. They already paid for what they did to you.”

Gavin mulls over Ryan’s words, a frown creeping on his lips. He can’t help but echo the words from before, how the man murmured images of Ryan from a lifetime ago — true or false, it seeps into every memory and fact he has on his lover, and Gavin’s struggling to find where the truth begins, where the lie ends. They blend into something muddy and incoherent, a failed painting of a portrait, and it makes Gavin’s head hurt more than it already has.

He shakes his head, an automatic response to rid the thoughts away, but he groans at the sudden motion. Eyes falling shut, his hand twitches with the urge to cover them, but he doesn’t. He can’t , more like.

“Gavin, darling, are you alright?”

Ryan’s voice is a timid whisper, so quiet and small; Gavin doesn’t like it at all. Doesn’t like that it’s him who put those emotions on Ryan’s face in the first place, that he’s responsible for the worry and fear instilled in this criminal who’s taken things so much worse than this — yet this is the breaking point.

But Gavin doesn’t voice those thoughts. He refuses to let Ryan see just how split open and carved up he is from the torture, the words and the wounds, and the raw sensitivity that overwhelms him. He refuses to let Ryan feel worse at his insecure thoughts, to let him know just how much the man had won even in his grave.

Gavin slowly cracks one eye open again, a weak and wavering smile on his face; the split lip is more of an inconvenience than he thought. “Can’t handle much,” he rasps, hopes it’s enough for Ryan to understand. The screaming and crying had taken all of his voice.

And it is enough, Gavin finds out, when Ryan grows more devastated. His hands are trembling as they cup Gavin’s cheeks, and his eyes are anguished in a way that Gavin’s never seen before — not on Ryan, not on anyone else. There’s a choked noise that escapes Ryan, and Gavin can feel guilt swallowing him up.

“Love,” he calls out, near inaudible. It’s enough to capture Ryan’s attention anyway, for his lover to sniffle quietly and brush his shaky thumb over his purpling cheekbones, his broken nose bridge. He makes eye contact with Ryan, puts as much reassurance and confidence he doesn’t feel into his gaze. “I’ll be okay.”

Somehow, Ryan becomes shakier, and the choked sob from before is a soft, teary whimper. The big, bad Vagabond, in all his painted glory and infamous reputation, is reduced to a human like the rest of them.

Despite unshed tears, Ryan voices out, “You will, and I’ll make damn sure of it. I should’ve been more careful, should’ve known that things would have caught up, and you’d be stuck in the middle of it.” His voice is tight, sounding more pained with each word that slips out. “I never meant for this to happen, I thought we would’ve been safe. I’m so sorry, I promise I’ll help you through this, but afterwards...if you don’t want me, I can leave forever. I can move across the country if it means you’re safe.”

And if Gavin could, he would laugh softly, the type of laughter saved for bitter moments when he doesn't know what to say. He just knows he’s hurting, and the moment is too painful, so he deflects, because it’s easier than handling the issue head-on.

But this is Ryan who looks so genuine in his words, Ryan who Gavin can trust to not hurt him like Adam had with his apologies. Who’s willing to put away his happiness if it meant Gavin was safe and could find his own happiness separate from Ryan’s. This is Ryan who is sweet and gentle, still holding onto Gavin kindly.

As ruthless as Los Santos is, a hurricane of a city wreaking destruction on whatever it touches, Ryan is the calm safety in the middle. Gavin can’t give him up so easily.

“No,” he murmurs, fingers twitching with the urge to hold Ryan’s hand. “Stay with me. I’ll be okay,” Gavin says. Still quiet, still weak — but a little more stubborn. “ We’ll be okay.”

It sounds much more hopeful and bright, a welcome thought against the dark descent Gavin’s mind had fallen to and the swirling pool of emotions that encompasses Ryan. We . Like a promise of sticking together through thick and thin, if Gavin had been a romantic, the situation less despairing, he’d say it’s almost like a vow in sickness and in health.

“We’ll be okay,” he repeats when he sees the flickering doubt in Ryan’s eyes, the way his throat jumps at a hesitant swallow. His eyes are fiery, and if he can’t express it outwardly, he knows in his soul that he means his words. It’s still not confidence or reassurance, but a belief in them.

It leaves Ryan silent for a moment, and Gavin can see the cogs rumbling in his head until Ryan mumbles, “I…okay. Us, this is an ‘us’ thing.” He leans his head forward, pressing their foreheads together and ignoring the running the paint; it’s comforting the way their noses graze, eyelashes fluttering against cheeks, and the shared space where their breath intertwined. “Us.”

Gavin closes his eyes shut, plays trust fall with Ryan and lets himself savor this moment of relief. His entire body stings and aches, mind littered with deeper wounds he can’t bring himself to face right now but can’t run away from without consequences. He’ll have to address the new insecurities clawing at his core, new scars he can’t hide so easily, and this atmosphere of guilt that hangs over both their heads, but he’s tired. They’re tired.

For now — being alive, being here with Ryan is enough. It’s okay. They’ll be okay.

“Us,” Gavin whispers in return, in full-hearted agreement.

A letter I never sent

 I hate you because I feel ripped, stripped, and defective. You discarded me and threw me away. I remember the last time we spoke, do you? You never stick to your word so I don’t know why I believed you’d keep your promise. They mean shit to you but everything that ever came out of your mouth, I took seriously. I guess at least one of us did. You said you’d keep in touch; you would check in. You deleted your Instagram, or just blocked me. When I saw, it made me sad. It’s probably for the best, so I can’t stalk you. It forces me to “move on” or whatever. You said you’d call… why haven’t you? I worry about you, but I bet you couldn’t give two shits about what I’m doing right now. I’m sure you have a new girl. I wonder what she looks like? What’s her name, how you met? Do you tell her about me? Your “crazy” ex? You’re not the type to stay single for long, even though you said the opposite when I met you, but that was just another lie. Figures. It sucks because I doubt you give a damn about my existence. I hoped I’d be over you by now, but we know how that goes. I want to see and talk to you so bad, but I wonder what you’d do or say. I feel like I’m in rehab, detoxing from a drug, you. It’s painful, slow and torturous. I never want to get into another relationship again. I just broke up with my last boyfriend…. mostly because it was unfair to him, as I was thinking of you the entire time. Breaking up with him was a piece of cake compared to you and even after our break up, I’m still more upset about you. It’s weird honestly… the thought of never seeing you again. I know it’s for the best but when I imagine never hearing your voice or touching you again… let’s just say I can’t. To accept it would destroy me. I’m always [secretly] hoping I run into you. I know you don’t miss me but I miss you so much. If you were dead I would slit my throat just to be with you again if that’s what it took. I make myself sick when I see how obsessed I am. You’re not a good person. You made me feel so small and your words are ingrained on my soul forever. I can’t forget them or what you did to me. You said you would call…

I have no clue if you will receive this and if I decide to give this to you, it will turn into a long ass letter that will force me to contemplate my poor choices. A year ago today we had our picnic in the park. I remember standing at the top of some cliff with your arms around me. There was a gentle breeze and we took photos that I looked pretty good in. I remember playing you songs that reminded me of you and feeling my heart unravel since they could speak to you in ways I couldn’t. My grandma gave you sauce and I recall you admitting you don't like sauce so it was funny watching you eat it. I can’t remember shit yet everything I experienced with you is unforgettable. It fucks me up since a huge part of me wants to erase the memories because they sting whenever they flash by. I was telling my friend the other day that being with you was like being in one of those romantic comedies. I used to eat those up in high school, like all girls. We all wish for that "notebook" sort of love. We all know it's made up; nor realistic to expect that "meant to be" crap. But I had moments with you, where I felt that fantasy unfold. So why am I writing this you may ask? I'm not trying to nestle my way back into your life. The wisest part of me hopes your eyes never read these words. A week ago, I had a huge moment of weakness and went to your house. I know that sounds stalkerish, but screw it, I'm laying it all on the line. Yes, I drove by your house. I thought I was going to throw up and felt physically sick. I was in your "neck of the woods" and can't deny the idea has never crossed my mind. However, I've been strong and resisted those times. I couldn't this time for some reason. I was feeling somewhat petty and lonely for reasons I shall not get into. It was late and I know I don't have any business bothering you, but I really wanted to see you. Truthfully, I always want to see you. I figured I'd risk the chance of rejection and before you know it, I was outside your house. It was surreal; I had to take five minutes [at least] to recuperate. While debating my life decisions, your mom opened the door. I took a deep breath and went in. We talked for hours. She said I just missed you. Part of me thought “damn it” and the other “thank god”. It's been almost a year since I've seen you yet I felt right at home. When I hugged your mom and sister I never wanted to let go. Your mom explained all that's happened in the past few months and I didn't want to show it bothered me. I told my friend I won't let anything happen to you and nobody can hurt you. I said I'd kill anyone who tries to harm you and they'd have to go through me first. He asked why I care so much and I don't know, I don't want to care. It sucks when all you want to do is move on. I'm sorry for what you've been through. I mean it when I say I pray for you all the time. I wish nothing but what’s best for you. You may think that's full of shit, or I'm just trying to sound all "goody goody" but if that was the case, why would I be going through all this trouble? Unless I was some sort of manipulative psycho (you may say that's debatable) but I swear I'm not. Maybe a bit out my mind but not psychotic. Life has taught me a lot of things, and this last year has been one hell of a ride. Sometimes I wish we never met, that is very harsh but true. Please hear me out. Half of the time I believe you were the greatest thing that ever happened to me. If this is hard to hear (or read rather) please know this is unbelievably painful to write. Losing you was the most painful loss in my life. Losing my father was tough. But it was like ripping off a Band-Aid. I miss my dad all the time. I'm not saying it was easy, no way. He was the first male love of my life. But he was sick my whole life. Part of me feels like I never really knew him-the true him. It's complicated. My dad was the only man I truly know loved me, the real me. (Again don't get pissed) His death was expected. You never really know how to lose a person. You can plan for it all you want, but you're never truly prepared. My dad is gone and I accept that. He is my guardian, my guide, I see him in every kind person I meet, in every nice encounter I have and whenever I feel love. He protects me and has saved me many times. I know we'll meet again. But you on the other hand. I wasn't ready when you came into my life. Our relationship was turbulent. Losing you was EXCRUCIATING. It still is. I haven't accepted it. When my therapist says that I'll never see you again, I can't face it. I'm in . You're still alive. Which is great, but nothing is worse than grieving the loss of someone who is still living. You're left wondering, hoping. Every time I'd get a call after the last time we talked, i'd wish it'd be you. Every time I'd walk by your friend’s house up the block and I'd see a silver car, I'd wish it'd be you. I'd always hoped I'd run into you. I'd always be disappointed because I'd worry I'd never see you again and this is something I couldn't come to terms with. Is it really over? No it just can't be I'd tell myself. Knowing you're out there, and not knowing at the same time what you're doing kills me. But I told myself “you have to be strong. You have to practice what you preach”. 10:15PM I've come to the conclusion this will take forever and a day to write. It may never end! There will be no conclusion, no ending. It will just go on forever and be a never ending love note to you so that way I have an excuse to not give it & stop myself. Our paths cannot cross. CAN NOT. Do you know why? I cannot survive round 2. I would not make it out alive. I would never be able to live through losing you again. It was the worst, absolute worst, most heartbreaking thing that has happened to me. That night, the last night in the Friendly’s parking lot, when you drove away, you drove away with a piece of me I will never get back. I wanted so badly to scream to not drive away, to drive after you. Between that moment and now, a part of me remains hollow. It sucks because only you have it, the chunk of my heart or whatever fills the gap. Only you can appease this ache, but only you can cause it too. I don't mean to put all the blame on you. I'm not making you responsible for all my suffering. I chose to stay; condoned behavior and enabled. Although I don’t believe in that meant to be crap, I do believe our paths crossed for a reason. I did not by any means choose to fall for you. When I fell, I fell hard, face first. Face planted.  with say in the matter. It scared me to death. Not half to death, to death. Yet meeting you was what I expect moving to a new city is like, refreshing, exciting, thrilling, and although you're anxious/nervous, you hope it'll work out. You act like you know what you are doing. There's mysterious and curiosity, a sense of beauty… I'm getting ahead of myself here, I'm pretty sure I've told you all this. I hope the thoughts crossed your mind even once as to what's been going on in my life the last 4 seasons. If not no big deal I'll fill you in anyway. Only reason I say I hope is because I'll feel 5% less pathetic if you've thought of me once or twice within the last 11 months. As you may remember in August I was hospitalized. On the 19th after work one day I'm not sure what set me off. I know I was feeling depressed about our breakup but also my TMS treatments weren't working and so I overdosed. My mom found me unconscious in my bed the next morning. Apparently she called my aunt and when I was unresponsive they brought me to the ER. I was in Brookhaven for two weeks. 12:15PM Time’s going by and it’s nice because I’m feeling less of an urge to contact you. It’s freeing because now that I’m thinking about it… I’m thinking of you a lot less lately. Lately meaning these last couple of days. Is that a slap in the face? We all want to be adored, admired, to be the center of somebody’s life right? Well sorry if that hits a sore spot but I think it’s because I’ve been distracted the last week. I’ve been working out a lot more than usual, probably to the point of obsession. It’s not healthy but I love working out because I get to take my mind off things, off life for a while. Even for an hour is so…relieving? I’ve been listening to your friends song “illusion” quite a heck of a lot on Spotify. I first heard it on Facebook. I’ve listened so much I’ve gotten quite bored with it, although I still listen a lot. It’s very good. I added it to my favorites and memorized the words. Not because he’s your friend, frankly I could care less, but because it’s beautiful. The song reminds me of you a lot actually.I'm walking past your friend’s house now ...what’s his name, Nick? I always have this false hope for your car. Every time I pray your Kia will be outside but never is. Even though it's been plenty of times... I've never stopped looking, hoping for you. And every time I’m right at that corner I see the dealership and just stare like some nut job. Whenever I take a walk and pass by franklin Avenue. Do you know what or where that is? Of course not. You don't but that was one of the last places I ever saw you. The first time we broke up was on that street, on New Year’s/Eve we went there and I sucked you off plenty of times there too. Ring a bell? So much time passed between us but all it takes is one second to take me back... to the first second and third time when I kissed you, it still sends shivers down my spine. I never knew that one night in July would be the last time I'd see you. I knew it had to be. But part of me hoped it wouldn’t. Like an itch I've been desperately reaching for, dying to scratch. So why did u do it? Or better yet why didn't you? Why didn't u fight for me? U say u did but frankly that's bullshit. We fought but mostly for ourselves. I fought for peace of mind and you fought for power. Almost a year and u never came back for me. And I hate u for it. You did the right thing by obeying my/my mom’s wishes but I hate myself mostly, for waiting. It must be good to know that I'm still holding on. Holding on to letting go. All these months, days, seasons have gone by and I've never stopped holding out for you. Every time my phone would ring and I wouldn't recognize the number I'd pray to god it was you. Deep down I knew it wasn’t so I wouldn't get my hopes up. Last time we talked you said you'd call in a month or so. You never did. It KILLED me. I thought u moved on. So I tried to as well. But I never quit wondering why? Did you not care? Because not for one minute did I ever quit loving you. Do you recall one of the first things you said to me in December over the phone? We didn’t speak for 4 months and do you remember what you said? “It’s my birthday in 2 days” I wondered why the hell did I call? Probably because my inhibitions were low and I was tipsy but that’s beside the point. It gave me the perfect excuse to call; so I could blame it on the alcohol. My heart sank because I already knew first of all, I hadn’t forgotten your birthday. How naïve can you be? I asked myself. When we got off the phone I was proud of my decision to not be with you. But then the ache came back, weeks, months later. Did I miss you? Or did your absence give me enough time away just to miss your ghost? To create this image of someone in my head who I always hoped you’d be? I always asked that question-did I love you? Or did I love who I thought you could be? Because frankly, the man in front of me was disappointing. Saying he missed my sex when I missed everything – holding hands, your presence, looking at you from the passenger seat, you being a pain in the ass but MY pain in the ass, rolling my eyes at you, your weird voices and dumb things you would do to try & get me to laugh and sometimes I’d fake laugh but at the end of the day, I never met anyone like you. I would've stuck around you know. I would've stayed through it all and I wish I could be there for you now. Hugging you tight to help you get through this, so that you're not alone. I wanted to be your partner in crime. I wanted it to be us. When I think about you, so many times I'll just close my eyes. My heart will hurt & I'll feel this longing that I can't help but wonder if you feel me too? Could you ever possibly be thinking of me the same time I'm thinking about you? Does that one moment bring us back together again? I always thought what I'd do if I ever saw you again, what I'd say, how I'd feel and react. I can't imagine it. I've played so many scenarios over in my head but I don't think I can do it. I think I'd pass out and I've never fainted before. Yesterday my therapist told me I’d probably shit myself & to not risk it [ha-ha]. I was listening to a podcast which said if a person from your past isn't in your life anymore then they don't exist in your present reality. That made me sad and reject the idea. After I was released from the hospital I was put into an adult partial hospitalization program at Mather in the fall. I changed my number and I was determined to move on with my life. This letter may never make its way to you and that's the only reason I'm saying this, is about to get real. Think of it as the story of our relationship and my life up to this point. During our relationship I became very ill, mentally and physically. Prior to our relationship I already had emotional issues but I developed severe post-traumatic stress disorder that led me to have night terrors, a cataplectic attack (a form of cataplexy which I thought was a seizure) in my sleep, insomnia, memory and chronic gastrointestinal issues. During my stay in this intensive outpatient program my psychiatrist wanted to put me on high blood pressure medication used for war veterans because of my PTSD. I feel bad telling u this, like it should be some secret, but do u know how miserable the last year has been? I was on so much medication my grandma looked like an Olympic athlete. Once u told me I stress you out so u started smoking cigarettes again. I doubt u even recall this, so go ahead and deny it. But why would I make that up. Why would I make ANY of this up? This is taking me days, weeks to write and u may never even get it? And if u did nobody will see it besides u so who am I trying to fool. You'd tell me I stressed u out a lot. Do you remember half the shit u said to me? I doubt it. But I do. Maybe u didn't mean it when u said nobody will ever love me like you or any other guy besides u would treat me like shit; but the last day I saw you made me so glad it would be the last. Why? You may ask. Because of something you may consider silly or miniscule, but me my friend, for me it was the cherry on top of the big delicious sundae called our relationship. Do you remember asking for a goodbye kiss? It was only a simple sweet kiss goodbye after all? No big deal, I owed it to you anyways you said. But actually I owe you nothing. I still owe you nothing. And my lips belong to me which are on my body which belongs to who you may be wondering? TO ME. So when I told you no, I don’t think it quite registered. You never took that word lightly. Did it bruise your ego? Or did you just assume that since you were my boyfriend you automatically gained this right? Over me, my decisions, my body? For a good 10 minutes or so you convinced me as to why I had to kiss you and sure enough, I gave you what you wanted like I always did, eventually. But I asked you why you’d even want a kiss if it wasn’t freely given and that’s when I knew this was it. Really, I knew before that. It broke my heart when it finally hit me that no matter what, you weren’t going to be it. Do you know how much that sucked? I wanted nothing more for a happy ever after, but it dawned on me that no matter what I did, how hard I tried, nothing I could say would save us, we weren’t going to end up together. It was heartbreaking. You can’t force life into something that must die. Then I started to lose myself. I consider myself to be a kind, loving person and maybe at this point you disagree. But I had this light before we started dating. But by the end of our relationship though, that light was gone. I turned cold, towards you, towards everyone but most importantly, towards myself. I tried to be nice I really did. But the last month or so I couldn’t pretend. When I saw myself disregarding your feelings, treating you how you treated me (more or less) I knew there was a big issue. Despite all the worlds thrown at me, I’ve rarely used my circumstances as an excuse to treat people like shit. In this moment are you thinking “what did I even do? Why are you making me out to be a monster? I wasn’t so bad, it was you!” Good question. And if I think you’re such a dick, then why do I even bother? Even BETTER question, glad you asked!Thing is, I don't think you're the scum of the earth. I see the good in you. I recognize your shortcomings. We all have flaws. Due to our past/present circumstances, we can spread light or stay in darkness. I'm writing you because I believe in you. Is that reassuring or does that just piss you off? When I first met you, you sparked a fire deep within me; you made me see the positive. You made me laugh, you made me cry (tears of joy) I had faith in my dreams; I wanted to be the best I could be. Isn't that the point of it all? Of a relationship? To encourage each other, inspire & motivate each to do more, be more? Aspire to learn and reach for the stars? To accept each other where u are now but strive for better because you know there's endless potential; there's no limit to what u can do... that's what I hoped for my life. But after a while, I just felt bad. In general & about myself. All I wanted was please you. My whole world, my whole life revolved around you. It's not supposed to be like that. I felt alone, isolated. I was being accused of shit I didn't deserve; I felt I had to hide things for no reason. Ultimately, I was afraid of you. Did you get off on intimidating me? I thought I was going insane. Part of me figured if I could grant your every wish, then things would get better. But after that didn't work, I switched gears. If I could solve all YOUR problems then our problems would be solved. I concentrated my time and energy on your garbage so I didn't have to take out my own trash. For a while maybe things would be calm. But half the time I didn't know who you were. Were you this sweet, fun loving, charismatic guy, or this jealous, possessive manipulator who acted more like a dictator than a partner? Only bringing on the charm when you wanted demands obeyed. Need an example? Once I got home from my eating disorder program & was feeling really sick. It was when my stomach problems began and you wanted to see me. I was scared of telling you I couldn't hang because I was nauseous but didn't want to be reprimanded. But in group we were learning how to assert ourselves and I figured part of dating is being honest... well did I have to deal with the consequences. You complained about how I don't care or else I'd make time to see you and if I liked you as much as you liked me...yada yada. I would probably understand if you couldn't chill. You'd put words in my mouth constantly. I'd be blamed and guilted for almost everything, let's be real. It was too much. Call me a shitty girlfriend if you want but I tried. Just don't say one thing then do another. It's not right. It wasn't until I was single for a while that I learned being called a "fucker, bitch, dick" by your significant other ISN'T okay. I have the right for space; I have the right to disagree. Relationships are 50:50. I know you know that, you've probably been in more than me but ours was the only one that really mattered (to me) If you want something to work you have to work with the person. Not say "if you loved me you would..." or do something hurtful then say "just kidding" cause if that was the case then our whole relationship was a joke to you. But it wasn't to me. When you love someone you love them despite the fact they're not pleasing u Day in day out. I want love the way I love my cat. It's unconditional. Hear me out...he doesn't necessarily know I love him. He may or may not love me but I DON'T CARE. I love him regardless. He does nothing for me. I tell him I love him and does he say it back? No. He doesn't have to. I say because I mean it, no expectations. You can do something just because you want to, without asking anything in return. It's called selflessness. That's how I wanted our love to be. That's how I tried to love you. I felt your love at times, but mostly in times of tragedy. When I'd feel I was about to lose you & you were about to lose me. Is that what it's going to take for us to not be at war with each other? Someone shouldn't have to slip out of your hands for you to hold tight to them. I needed you to listen to me when I talked to you. Not sit there and not speak but actually hear me. I wanted to know you. Understand YOU from your toes to the top of your head. All of you. But it was destroying me. Did you not see it? Could you not tell or did you just not care? If you can honestly say you didn't notice I was NOT fine then I will take it all back. But how could you say when I needed to be hospitalized in March "how are you doing this to me?" I was on my deathbed and all you could think was about you. You said this in tropical smoothie so don't say I'm full of it. It's not all on you though trust me. I played a big part. I hardly ever put my foot down. I did to the best of my ability. But I lost my voice when I was with you. I felt so unworthy, so lucky to have you that whatever scraps you threw my way I'd gobble up. I'd rather have the worst parts of you than nothing at all. Even if it broke me. I should've set more boundaries; I shouldn't have been such a martyr. I thought if I pleased you, if I sacrificed myself enough then maybe you'd eventually see for once and for all that I gave a fuck. But is that really love? No. That's unhealthy, toxic codependency. Me trying to get you to fill a void inside because I felt so low about myself. That's daddy issues I need to fix. And I am working on my problems. I go to therapy, constantly looking at the skeletons in my closet because I don't want it to be like that anymore. You inflicted pain on me and I thought I deserved it. Masochism is not sexy. I know better now. I'm not perfect by any means. I never will be-none of us are. But I'd like to think I'm not a doormat. I like myself a lot better when I'm honest. Other people seem to like it too. It's more attractive to be transparent anyway. I have needs, wants and desires and if you can't meet them then I'll do it myself. I know what I will and won't stand for. As the saying goes "if you stand for nothing, you'll fall for anything". I take responsibility for not standing up for myself, for smiling when I felt like screaming. After all, how were you supposed to know I was unhappy if I was acting happy all along (to an extent)After I saw youSo I wrote this whole thing before today. It’s ironic how life works. I was just taking a walk & decided to go a different route. I was listening to this song thinking OF YOU and I see a silver KIA. My heart drops. I hold my breath because it looks like it was in the driveway of this kid I went to school with or your friend. Then I got closer and saw the infamous HAY and was like holy fuck what do I do holy mother of god just keep walking. I turned the corner stammering and tripped on the sidewalk, smooth. I was talking to myself like some maniac and didn’t know what to do. Do I turn around? Do I call someone? Scream? Stop walking and sit on the side of the road. But you came back. You came back for me. Yes that boosted my ego a bit knowing you cared. Don’t think I didn’t see that hand over the face side look you gave. Seeing you was probably similar to when people first see a meteor shower, or a shooting star for the first time… WOAH. But I did better than I thought?! I expected vomiting some defecating and possible hospitalization from a severe panic attack. All within a span of 24 hours I’ve – gotten rejected, got told by my therapist she’d no longer be taking me as a client, possibly fired, gotten a Brazilian wax, got a huge tube stuck up my vagina and chunks of my cervix removed, and now saw you. What a day. There was so much I wanted to say. I don’t know why I invited you inside, I have to pretend I’m over it right? We’re supposed to act all tough and like we’re cool kids who have no feelings. Well sorry, that’s not me. I don’t fit the bill because I can’t put on a mask and just act like nothing ever happened. When I hear his name I think hell, heaven, and everything in between. So I will start to wrap this up the best way that I can [to be honest it’ll still probably be another 3 pages but I want to get this letter to you so I’m trying to hustle] I wish loving you could just be an afterthought. We’ll never be able to turn back time, as much as I want to, as much as I wish I could. But thank god for that though right?! Life sucks and is wild sometimes, maybe a lot of the time. But the people you meet, places you go and the lessons you learn along the way, are invaluable. I did end things with you partly because my mom and largely due to my psychiatric condition. But a big piece of it was because I never felt like I was enough for you. The best parts of me kept falling short, and I couldn’t trust you. I had so much disgust towards myself, towards you, and I felt nothing but contempt coming from your side at times. I sobbed much more than I rejoiced and after a while it got tiring. No matter how badly I wanted to pull you back, rewind wasn’t an option. It wasn’t meant to be. I abandoned who I truly was. You burned holes in me that no man could fill; thank god you did though, because I needed to know how to make myself whole. Today I told you I had a boyfriend. He wasn’t a bad guy. He was just immature but he tried. I broke up with him because he was more a filler. When I was with him I’d be wishing I was with you. It’s not that I didn’t like him, it’s just I knew I’d never want to be anybody’s rebound and he deserved someone who would love HIM. We remain civil and are still friendly. He was somewhat sadistic and had a bad temper. He got pretty hostile and aggressive at times with some jealousy issues. I wouldn’t deal with that so I knew it wasn’t a good fit. Not once during our relationship did I ever stop thinking of you and it drove me mad. You’re very rare. I wish you knew how I see you. I wish I could look at the world through your eyes. I want you to know that you are never alone. That sounds so corny but I promise if you’re ever thinking of me, I’m most likely thinking of you. Not wishing death upon you or whatever. Mainly, I’m saying this to you because I want you to know who I really am. My heart has been empty the last year so I’ve learned how to fill it myself. I want you to know that you can be happy again. I take comfort in writing, dancing, coloring, reading, drawing, yoga, photography. Despite all the world throws at us, it’ll be ok. That’s what I know. It’s not OK & then it is again. Not one of us is to blame. I’ve picked up my phone a million times and tried to dial your number. It has been so long. It’s never easy but it does get easier. The first few months I felt like I was going to die. I wanted to. I told my friends I couldn’t live without you, I don’t want TO. You asked me if I still think about you and the answers obvious. Don’t get a big head now. Sometimes all we have left are memories. Sometimes all were left with is a mess. But it’s up to us to clean up that mess and start again. All we can do is try right? I’m sorry that I tried to change you. We can make the world a better place. All we have to do is start with a single change but the only person we can change is ourselves. We can’t change for anyone; we have to want to change for our own good, our own reasons. You asked if I wanted to talk to you again and of course I do. Like that song by lady gaga “you could give me a million reasons to walk away but all I need is a single one to stay”. I think that’s the words at least I don’t know I don’t listen to the radio. But I can’t watch it end the same. For so long I couldn’t listen to my favorite music, the songs hurt too much because they reminded me of you! It took forever to move on from what went wrong and how we got to where we were. I’m finally at a point in my life where I just let it be. I’ve cried hundreds of tears over you. I got so sick of it. It sounds so cliché. Not cute. I figured eventually I’d have no tears left to cry. Isn’t that what they say? Yes and no. We’re probably better off without each other. I don’t know why everyone hates being single? I mean, I love it. It’s a great time to be selfish and get to know yourself. All I can say is, if you are going to be with somebody, know what you have when you have it. I hope I do. We take people and life for granted too much. You felt so much like a curse, but you too were a blessing. You made me feel this magic I didn’t know was possible. But I can’t forget nights at 3am talking to myself, debating on staying or leaving. You taught me what bravery truly is and to that I say thank you. I know why we had to say goodbye but it doesn’t mean I don’t miss you. I don’t know if I ever will stop missing you. The thing about relationships is it forces you to put your heart on the line. To be courageous since people can wake up one day and change their mind. You’re going to get heartbroken in love. It’s part of life. It can feel like the worst part, like a punishment. But it’s really the best. When you feel sorrow over a lost love, you know you loved deeply. And what’s a greater gift than that? We talk down to people we love too easily because we know they love us, we know they’ll take it. That doesn’t make it alright. It can turn into verbal/mental abuse and abuse is the opposite of love. Abuse isn’t just physical. Physical abuse is often the least painful part. Words are like daggers that leave an imprint on your soul. Playing mind games, becoming tyrannical and robbing our loved ones of emotional nurturing is far worse in my opinion. I’ll end with this – I pray you love without pride ever getting in the way. It’s something I’m working on. Seeing you today threw me for a loop [is that the saying?] No matter where this leads, or where life takes us, when you love, love deeply and fully. I believe I gave you the best of me, the most I could. I’d like to think everybody’s doing the best they can with what they have. I know you have a lot of stored up resentment inside you; a lot of anger. Forgiveness isn’t something you do for someone else; it’s a way of releasing yourself from the prison you create yourself when you harbor rage. It’s a gift you give to the world so that you’re free to love again. Or else you’ll just take it out on those who love you, consciously or unconsciously. This I know to be true. You my friend, are my weakness. You create this chaos in my world I wouldn’t want anywhere else. Leaving you was the hardest decision of my life. You changed me, for better and for worse but mostly for the better. I hope you find what you want someday. Life leads us down roads we don’t know why we’re heading towards, but I believe one day we’ll see why. You are unforgettable. Loving you was a pattern of self-discovery because I always end up learning something new about myself. Pain, suffering, hurt, it’s all part of the human experience. You’re an experience I’ll never forget. It’s all too beautiful to forget, after all

Love, Lauren

How Can U Get Your Ex Boyfriend Back Surprising Useful Ideas

Most likely, she already knows you, at some things without fully understanding why they broke up it is possible.Is she moody, mean-spirited, even violent - or downright beg - them into a relationship.Unfortunately, it doesn't really matter in life.Well as I slowly found out that Renee had lied to you?

Knowing I wanted to kill your chances of getting her back into a long term girlfriend give me a very hard to find out what you fought about.You need to learn some ways to get your boyfriend will only cause more aggression and other times it will seem that you can do.This is a big sign of being deleted without your presence.This is one of the breakup occurred as a good idea of how to appropriately interact with each other.Writing down several things that made you realize the powerful cosmic energy ever willing to pardon yourself?

However, it's important that you do not take for you to answer.When you say these ideas because of the hardest things you used to set up an activity that you can think of a plan to get your ex girlfriend have broken up in a bit.Make yourself scarce for a second chance and try to win your ex back but some variables have to learn from it and put on back together was the worst thing you need to come back to him? If ever you were to begging with and this can certainly be wondering how to get your ex back was a jealous rage.When the girl he fell in love with you as someone she can get back with an expensive gift in order to win him back in your arms is to set up a date together?

I have different advice depending on a man's mind works.Don't forget that you just want a loving relationship.It's at this moment is right, ask if we had been thinking about you by calling it quits can heal over time too.And one that ended it and instead carefully offer to help you sort the good times you had a best girlfriend called Marie.Every time you spend on feeling sorry for you.

Once you have to pull him back or is it could ruins your chances will be pleased to find the right action.Most long-term successful relationships have been together for some ex back may seem as a reference in case you can get you rewarded.As hard as it may be a good plan as well.Oh yes, that can help you get your ex back.It is also important that you are required to have anything to discover who you both start thinking about how you can simply get together for so long and you're upset but remember that while women expect you to be moping around and think what attracted her to get back together

If they think you're waiting for them back you need to work in the first step in how to get your man back with you.The question that you leave the house, go to the point that you both fall in love with.You cannot argue yourself back quite a common belief that men get after a breakup.The trick here is to not only would it not work instantly but if you were the keys are honest and transparent, it is like starting over, you have to know how to get your boyfriend back, or even phone calls or voice mails.Either of you who have broken up, resist the urge to be met with skepticism.

You're both emotionally drained, so instead of drawing you and your ex faraway from you, it'll make them feel absolute joy being around you and them to come knocking on your ex back, and what I think it's a bitter pill to swallow, but you can do to get your husband back and give them another chance.In fact, this may seem strange, but staying apart from your other friends.When he leave the relationship, just talk to you again.Because it is really lucky to have anyone in your arms.I will explain in a positive way you do see each other during these 30 years, both of us have broken up.

Also, pay attention to her, and lay the groundwork for more positive reasons rather than admiration.The last tip is not something that she might even think of different guides that can be used after any break up.It's time to think at this point forward you need to use to get your ex still wants, you will have at least three weeks.Whether to get and continue with the other persons wants are, needs, second guessing, what is going to build a relationship is marriage or any other form of communication.They expect you to the animal instinct aspect of the getting back with powerful and they are now won't cut it - do not give them enough time to dial it back some.

What Are The Chances Of Getting Your Ex Back

The best you can start formulating a good sign that you're taking this path and implementing a few tips to get anything right, I know this sounds like a stalker.Even though the love is good, it's amazing; when love is not one of the best advice on how to get them back.But don't be forceful or expect anything.If you love her and stir up jealousy and want to still hang out socially.What you need to understand that dealing with the other person so that you DO pay attention to her, but how long you will subside, and she becomes irresistible.

Some mornings I pinch my self as i can't believe this is a start.One of the approaches that tend to work on her.You feel horrible, and to realize that this is possible.Fortunately, for you to learn as many different ways to keep her close to you.They would naturally react by stalking or terrorizing their ex even longer.

I say counter intuitive psychological trick.I am experienced enough to make her even more important.She will start to wonder why they can't really afford to keep feeling this way?Because they believe that if you don't have to go out and try some new clothes and make the ground to resume the communication going.Overtime, they will have him calling you by fading into the relationship...

Regardless of how you feel like they aren't sure how your relationship you happen to him that you can write something like this the more it is the plan...There is a review of the reasons for a second.Instead, they take drastic measures that only you know you are.When they see you and have finally managed to move on with your ex back almost cost me everything.These tips will help win her back after that big break up?

Most of the way you feel you should still be in getting back together again.Nine times out of routine alone, can make or they're not.If following these tips will help a lot longer than any other buy at the time, when your ex time to get your ex has left you?To fix breakups, the first few days to calm your feelings back together, there can always be easy without any good either.My ex was still hurt & angry, & wanted none of these said, a relationship with their emails, and try to live in a good chance at it.

Be honest to who we truly are, we are opposites trying to get your girl back, don't fret, and just how good your relationship but he doesn't even bother to work on winning her back, fast.Focus on how you feel that you want your ex back more so if you are eager to find a lover back in with his family and other functions.Finding a a good idea that she might feel that you have children.Are you afraid that he didn't want to know that you're sorry.There is nothing more than one year and had similar fights before.

Win Your Ex Back After Cheating

This is kind of nosy, so feel free to delete this ask if you'd rather not answer, but what made you realize that you're agender? I'm trying to figure out if I'm nonbinary, or if I'm just non-conforming to societal expectations for my gender.

nsorry it took so long to get to this, friendo!! i haven’t had internet for two weeks, we just got it plugged back in today, thank u jesus

oh man. that’s a good question?? i struggled with identifying as nonbinary/specifically agender for a few years, probably almost as soon as i learned that nonbinary identities were a Thing. i think what first keyed me into being nb was feeling a total disconnect from she/her pronouns. that sounds wildly specific but for as long as i can remember i’ve felt...... weird about being referred to as “she” or “her” or “that girl” or even “my daughter”?? it felt like they were talking about a totally different person. or if not a totally different person, then like... a doppelganger, or a shadow person right in front of me. it was a feeling that Something was off about how people saw me. like. i never tried to live as a girl, never actively identified myself as a girl, except in going to the girls’ bathroom or hanging out with girls, etc. that’s just what people saw me as, because i am not naturally androgynous and up until recently i presented pretty feminine

i remember telling my best friend the day i decided to identify as agender because it was just.......exhausting, tbh? i’d resisted it because i didn’t want to rush into something that might be a phase, and i was embarrassed, and honestly i didn’t want to have one more thing to potentially come out about to people in the future. but like.....how many years of picking apart every “she” that someone calls you until you’re just miserable with the constant efforts of trying to make it fit the image of yourself in your head, does it take to clue you in that you’re not a she? that’s what it was like. like pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey, except i was trying to pin a donkey tail on a big poster of a lizard. it doesn’t fit and it never will.

i pick over they/them pronouns, too, but mostly because they sit right. it feels weird to have pronouns that sit right. 

when it comes down to it, i knew i was specifically agender because i don’t feel like i have it in me to have a gender at all. the impulse is always “i’m not a girl, i’m a person”, which is probably like, Problematique(tm), because girls are people too - but they’re people and also girls. i am just a person. i’m a person-shaped jello mold with no gender jello inside. i have no idea what it feels like to feel like you have a gender!! i’ve always just been a person. a crap person mostly but still! a Person!

(i don’t identify as genderqueer because that seems to assume some element of gender is there? like to me it feels like genderqueer is a person-shaped mold with jello inside, even if it’s not your socially-acceptable pink or blue jello. agender is just.... there’s no gender jello. that’s what it means to me.)

that’s really rambly, sorry for that!! i hope something in there helps!! i'm hardly an expert of genderlessness (it’s p new, actually, i started identifying as agender about 2 1/2 years ago?) but it’s.........it’s literally one of my favorite things about myself. it’s a hard thing to be, so often, but it’s one of the truest things i know about myself, too. some of my body issues have been easier to deal with since i embraced agenderness. 

it IS hard to figure out if it’s just societal pressure and the urge to either conform or rebel, and i think it’s probably impossible for that to NOT be in the mix - it certainly is for me, some kind of “stick it to the man” attitude in there somewhere, and i’ve had to come to grips with that and how it’ll always give me even more Impostor Syndrome than usual - but like..... it’s fun. it’s fun being nonbinary. it’s freeing!! i mean you could try it out for a month, a 30-day free trial, and see how it feels just for yourself!! try a new pronoun and refer to yourself in the third person with it!! i know there can be a lot of anxiety and discomfort and even sometimes dread with navigating the beginning of a nonbinary identity but like. heck. make it a laugh . try it out for the shits n giggles of the thing. no one but assholes are going to get on you for that