#I’m angry and there’s no happiness. it’s just how i coped and it made me focus my attention elsewhere

[vers-1]

Not to sound so adolescent but I really do force myself to be happy sometimes. Growing up I had this strategy to just fake it till I make it. I figured that if I just ignore all the bad shit and focus on the good things I’ll only think about the good stuff. And it worked but it’s always temporary. I would work round the clock to distract myself and then once in a while I’ll hit a slump and can’t avoid the bad things. And they’re just there. I don’t try to processes it because I’m scared of thinking about it which makes me think about it all the time. Idk. You really can’t pretend you’re doing great. Well I guess you can but it doesn’t feel great or last forever. I’m not a happy person

[punkshort]

i’m the anon who asked about the request! if you decide to do it, i’d absolutely wait forever😂 it’s very angsty tho, so the idea was for outbreak joel who doesn’t get the happy ending. reader who was head over heels in love coping with his death, maybe flashbacks to show the moments of reader seeing him die? idkidk the idea is very vague, sorry if it’s too sad!! if so maybe reader seeing him die was just a terrible nightmare & he’s there waking them up & helping them through a meltdown?

i’ve been craving for some emotional torture for wtv reason😭😭 thank you for even considering requests!🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

Thank you for this request! It's my first one, so I hope you enjoy it. Also, I had to take the out you gave me and make this a nightmare because I am a big ol' softie and I won't apologize for it, but I will apologize for taking so long to write it 😂

I hate when you're right

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: After a heated argument with Joel, you finally convince him into leaving Jackson so you could explore a store for new clothes, and what happens could change your life forever.

Warnings: major character (Joel) death - but it is just a nightmare - don't read if you think that will still upset you, angst, language, violence, descriptions of blood/gore/death scene

WC: 2.5K

dividers by the one and only @saradika-graphics

You knew it was childish. You knew it wasn't essential. But you also desperately wanted to feel more comfortable, and was that really such a crime? To want to feel like yourself again? To want to wear clothes that you liked? That fit you properly? Jackson was well stocked with essentials, clothes included, but the clothes the men picked up on patrol were... utilitarian, to say the least. They grabbed the biggest and the warmest clothes so that it afforded more people the opportunity to use them, but you were beginning to grow tired of tucking men's oversized shirts into your pants, the material bunching up at your waist and twisting around as you walked, constantly trying and failing to feel comfortable in your own skin.

You thought Joel would be more open to the idea of heading outside the walls on your day off. You even teased him with the promise of picking up some new underwear, but he didn't fall for it. He fought you tooth and nail the whole evening, his voice lifting over yours angrily to explain how there's been an influx of raiders the past few weeks, that everyone agreed to lay low until they passed through, not wanting to draw attention or pick any unwanted fights. But you persisted. You always did, and you eventually wore him down when you threatened to leave without him.

Why was it such a crime to want to feel comfortable? It was just two people, you could lay low and go unseen, no problem. You've done it countless times before.

You had hoped he would have gotten over it by morning, but you were wrong. He hardly made eye contact with you during breakfast, skirting expertly around you in your kitchen, mumbling under his breath as he sipped his coffee and only shooting you angry looks when your back was turned.

The air was crisp and the woods were peaceful. You thought that would surely turn his mood around. He always appreciated being out with nature, living off the land. As much as he loved living in Jackson, he couldn't deny that part of himself that felt useful, that felt a sense of accomplishment by surviving out in the wild.

"C'mon, are you really gonna act like this all day?" you teased as you held up another shirt against your body before determining it was the right size and then tossed it in a pile with the others.

He was standing at the storefront window with his arms crossed and his jaw clenched. "Don't know what you mean."

You rolled your eyes and looked around the store, spotting a table of underwear with a grin. You lightly skipped over and tossed to the side the pairs that looked far too dusty so you could look at the ones underneath. Clearing your throat, you held up a pair of bright red stain underwear. He turned around and you saw it: it was fast, he hid it well, but you still saw it. That all too familiar excited look in his eye.

"Don't you like them?" you asked with a playful pout. He furrowed his brow at you like he was annoyed, and maybe he was, but you still saw the heat beginning to crawl up his neck.

"They ain't practical."

You gave him a defeated sigh and strolled over to your pile of clothes, your fingertips daintily holding the undergarment out to him. "No? Then what are they?"

His eyes shifted from yours to the red material in your hand and you saw his throat work as he swallowed.

"Useless," he croaked, and you narrowed your eyes at him. You got a little closer, letting the soft fabric glide against the back of his hand when you dropped your arm to your side.

"Oh, yeah?" you said breathily, and you watched his eyelids flutter at your tone. "Then I guess it wouldn't matter if I brought them home and let you rip them off me."

He stepped forward, a growl emitting from his chest, low and deep, when at the exact same time, you both heard shouting outside the store. Swiveling both your heads towards the glass storefront, your blood ran cold when you saw six heavily armed men advancing towards you.

"Shit," he muttered, his arm pulling your shoulder down just in time to avoid the cascade of bullets that rained down upon you. You laid face down on the rough carpet, covering the back of your head with your eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the shooting to stop. Joel tugged on your arm and you opened your eyes in a panic.

"Follow me!" he shouted, army crawling towards the registers, and you dutifully followed behind, your heart racing wildly in your chest.

Once you made it, the counter offering some, but not much, safety, the both of you pulled out your guns and double checked your ammo.

"Alright, when they stop to reload-"

"I know," you said, cutting him off. You've both been in this situation before. You knew what to do.

Holding your rifle upright and against your chest, you breathed deep, trying to steady your hands until the bullets slowed and you heard more shouting. Joel nodded to you and you both sprung up from the floor, pulling your rifles against your bodies in sync and lining up your targets.

Patience is a virtue. The amount of ammunition they wasted on the two of you was laughable when you each caught one of them between the eyes, leaving four against two.

You thought you would be able to get another shot off but Joel tugged your arm and you slinked back to the floor as a shower of bullets rained over you once again.

"You good?" he asked, and you nodded, gasping for air. Your hands began to stabilize when the shock wore off. You were in the zone.

Pressing both your backs against the small counter, you remained calm and waited out your attackers. Glass shards tinkled and scattered behind you. Bullets pinged against the metal shelving, ricocheting into the drywall.

"Assault rifles for two people? Really?" you muttered, more so to yourself, but Joel heard you.

"Told you this was a bad fuckin' idea," he said angrily.

When there was another brief pause, he looked to you again and nodded. At the same time, you rose up and took aim, firing on your attackers once again. Joel made his shot, you didn't. Three down, three to go.

"Fuck," you grumbled, reloading your rifle even though you still had rounds left.

"Focus," he scolded.

The men sounded like they were getting closer. Their voices were louder. Clearer. The shots were deafening. You prayed they weren't inside the store, because you hadn't planned an exit strategy. Without warning, Joel stood up and fired a shot. You heard a man scream and then a loud thud. It sounded like the man was just on the other side of the counter.

"That's not the plan," you seethed at him when he dropped back down next to you.

"Didn't have a choice, he was 'bout to jump us," he sneered.

Two against two.

When the shots slowed down, you held your breath, looking at Joel from the corner of your eye. He held his palm up to you silently, signaling for you to stay where you were. You heard boots crunching slowly against glass and your heart leapt into your throat. They were in the store.

You shot Joel a panicked look but he just shook his head, focusing on their footsteps, calculating how far away they were.

"Come out now and no one gets hurt," a man's deep voice called out. He was close.

Joel clenched his jaw and flared his nostrils. You knew that look. It was the look of a man who was about to do something stupid. But before you could stop him, before you could reach out to him and hold him back, he stood up and took aim.

One shot. That was all you heard when Joel slumped to the floor next to you, clutching his stomach as dark red blood poured from the wound. Your eyes went wide and you saw red. Without thinking, you stood up and shot, taking one of the two men down with a yelp. The remaining raider ducked behind a display, and you dropped your rifle in favor of your handgun. Crouching low to the ground, you inched forward, careful of any broken glass that would give your position away. When you were on the other side of the display, you heard the man's labored breaths. He was scared. He was out of his element. And you had him right where you wanted him.

Silently tucking the gun in the back of your pants, you slid your hunting knife out from your ankle holster. You took a deep breath and lunged forward, driving the knife deep into the man's chest.

He dropped his gun and clutched weakly at your hands, but it was no use. His blood poured from the wound when you yanked your knife out with a grunt, and you watched as his hands slowly slid back down to his sides, his eyes still wide open and staring up at the ceiling.

You smirked, feeling victorious for only a moment before you remembered Joel. Dropping your knife, you rushed back to his side, only to find his face pale and his hands stained dark red.

"Joel!" you cried out, pressing your palms against the wound, hoping to slow the bleeding. His eyes drifted towards you, softening when he saw you were alive and unharmed. That you were going to make it.

Panic consumed you. Your heart was slamming against your ribs as you fumbled with your backpack, trying to find your first aid kit through the tears.

"I love you," he whispered, and you shook your head.

"Don't start with that, you're gonna be fine."

"Baby," he said weakly, and you choked back a sob.

"Hold on," you told him, still searching in your pack.

"Look at me," he said, and your hands stilled for a moment before you dragged your eyes back to him, your lower lip trembling as you took in his deteriorating state.

"I need to-" you began, but stopped to take in a shaky breath. "I need to patch you up and get you to the horses."

"No, you don't," he said softly, and more tears spilled from your eyes.

"Yes, I do. I gotta-"

"I ain't gonna make it, sweetheart," he slurred, and you could see by the amount of blood he was losing that he was right. But still, you pressed your palms against the gunshot wound, your fingers slipping through his thick and sticky blood.

"Don't say that. I can't do this without you," you whimpered, and closed your eyes for a brief moment. You felt his fingertips weakly grip your chin and you forced your eyes back open.

"Yes, you can," he said as firmly as he could. He was so pale and weak and it was making your stomach turn.

You shook your head, about to argue with him, but he stopped you.

"You keep goin', you hear me?" he said, and still, you shook your head from side to side, small sobs slipping past your lips. "Don't let this world win. You... go on and keep fightin'. Please. Be happy, baby. For me."

"No!" you cried out, spittle dripping from your lips now, mixing with your tears. "I won't! I-I can't!"

"You can," he repeated, and gave you a weak smile. "I'm ready, baby. It'll be okay."

You squeezed your eyes shut tight, the tears leaking out, hot and angry on your cheeks as you sobbed over him, clutching his hand in yours so tightly, like if you squeezed hard enough, you could give him your lifeforce. Give him your breath. But moments later, his grip weakened and when you opened your eyes, his head slumped to the side and his lifeless eyes stared off into the distance.

"Joel!" you screamed, sitting up in bed, drenched in sweat with tears still streaming down your face. You looked to your side, where he normally slept, but he wasn't there. Panic squeezed your throat, your chest fucking hurt, but you flung the blankets off you and ran towards the door. Still not hearing any sounds, you raced down the stairs, almost tripping in the process but you had a grip on the railing to keep you steady.

When your eyes finally landed on his familiar form stretched out on the couch, his back to you, you allowed yourself to breathe a sigh of relief.

Reality came back to you now. You had your fight about leaving Jackson, but he won and you slept apart. You never left. He never got shot. It was all just a horrible dream.

You stumbled over to the couch, your tears unstoppable, the nightmare too vivid, too real. Your trembling hands clutched his shoulder as you fell to your knees on the floor, shaking him awake.

"What?" he grumbled, clearly still pissed off about your fight.

"I'm sorry!" you sobbed loudly, and when he realized something was wrong, he whipped around to face you.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

"I-I had-" you began, then you hiccupped, cutting yourself off. His face was etched with concern as he forced himself up and cupped your face.

"C'mon, talk to me," he urged, the fear in his eyes reflecting back to you as you looked at him, still not sure what was real and what wasn't.

"I had a nightmare," you finally managed to get out. "About our fight. That we... we went out like I wanted and-and-" you collapsed into another fit of sobs, your shoulders shaking violently.

"Hey, it's alright," he soothed, pulling you up and into his lap and rubbing your back. You pressed your tear stained face into his neck, inhaling deeply, grounding yourself. He was alive. He was here. Everything was fine.

"I'm sorry," you whimpered, your throat still tight but your tears were slowing down. "I'm sorry we fought. I don't wanna go out anymore. I don't need new clothes, it was stupid, I'm sorry."

"Shh, it's okay," he said, pulling you tightly against his chest, "I'm sorry we fought, too. I just wanna keep us safe."

"I know, you're right," you said, pulling back a bit and wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "Will you come back to bed?"

"Yeah," he replied with half a smirk. "'Course I'll come back to bed, baby. Don't cry, it's alright."

You let him lead you up the stairs and to your bedroom, your side of the bed still damp with sweat but it didn't bother you. Joel was safe and sound and in your arms and you didn't care if you had to wear a potato sack for the rest of your life, as long as you had Joel, nothing else mattered.

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[blues824]

Prompt 30 with past Lilia if that is possible! And having baby Sliver there just clinging to reader🌸💗

~ @toconolaw | 🌸💗 anon

AWWWWW!!!

You requested: “Baby, It’s Cold Outside…” from the Fluffcember prompt list.

Preface: Reader is human, and is married to Lilia, and is female.

Lilia Vanrouge

Ever since your husband had found Silver in the forest, you had become the child’s mother. You had become the happy family you had always dreamed about, and you wouldn’t change anything about it, especially not as you are feeding a bottle to Silver and Lilia is sitting in the living room armchair in your cottage.

Silver was getting so big. Not too long ago, he had taken his first steps, and the bat fae made a remark about how he would be a fine knight for the young prince. Speaking of, he as well as Queen Maleficia were common visitors in your comfortable domicile. 

You snapped out of your thoughts when you looked at the clock, and you realized that you needed to get started on supper soon. However, you would need to go to the market to get everything you needed. You wanted to keep it light for today, so you were going to make grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup. You started writing a list, balancing the pen in one hand and the baby in the other, of everything you would need. 

“Darling, I need to go to the market to pick up a few things for supper. Please don’t burn the house down while I’m gone.” You stood up from your seat at the dining table, carrying Silver to Lilia and setting him in his lap. You placed a kiss on his lips as you headed towards the door, but you suddenly felt something tug on your dress.

You looked down to see Silver, eyes tearing up, clinging onto your skirt.

“No leave, mama!” He said before starting to cry. You picked up the crying child, started to shush him, and you got kind of irked at your husband, going to tell him off, but he was right behind you.

“Dearest, it’s snowing outside, and you could get lost out there. We will be fine without supper, as we have other food in the house,” He took the crying child from your arms, starting to rock him back and forth.

“But I wanted to make tomato soup. I know of your love of tomatoes, and I was going to make grilled cheese sandwiches to accompany it. Plus, it’s something for Silver as well, since he can have a bite of it and start to get used to actual food,” You pouted. However, you felt like standing your ground on the matter.

“Y/N, I said no. It’s cold out there, and the last thing any of us need is for you to fall ill. How will our son cope without his mother?” He lifted the baby’s face up to his, pouting just as Silver was, making your heart break at how brokenhearted he looked… Silver, not Lilia. Speaking of, the child started making grabby hands towards you, his chubby cheeks were so cute.

You took him into your arms, showering his face in kisses as he started giggling, and that’s when you noticed that your husband had placed his hand on the small of your back and started leading you back to the living room.

“You little piece of-” You started, but he placed his hand over your mouth to prevent you from finishing what you were going to say.

“Watch your tongue, dear~ We have a child in our midst…” He said with a smirk. He knew that you would prioritize the baby, as you wanted him to have the best upbringing that you could provide, and whenever you were angry at him, he would use the baby as a shield.

“Fine, you win. But only because Silver doesn’t want me to leave,” You were still pouting, but Lilia sat back down in his armchair. You thought it was all over, when he suddenly pulled you to sit in his lap. You let out a squeal of surprise, and Silver was laughing again.

“My beloved family, with my beautiful wife and my handsome son… What more could I ask for?” He said with a dreamy tone to his voice, leaning in to give you a kiss on the lips.

“...A grilled cheese…” You said with a pout, making him laugh, a beautiful sound to accompany your son’s babbling.

[her-power]

So Called Chaos (Part One: Modern single dad! e.m x fem reader)

❤️‍🩹🚨‼️18+ Minors DO NOT interact ‼️🚨❤️‍🩹

Trigger warnings/content warnings: Talk of suicide, talk of death, grief, hurt, comfort. Talk of PPD/PPA. Smut will come later, not explicit but sensual I guess? (warning now) strong language, angst, fluff.

Summary: This takes place in modern times. Eddie & reader are in early 30s. Eddie is raising his two year old son, Hunter, alone while coping with the death of his son’s mother who he had a complicated relationship with. He runs into an old friend at the bookstore (the reader) and memories of their time together as teenagers flood his brain to a point where he cannot stop thinking about her and the what if’s. This blossoms into a beautiful rekindled friendship and potentially something more.

Word Count: 5.1K

Thirty-four-year-old Eddie Munson hovers over the crib, his eyes bloodshot, he was so tired, but he always made sure to watch him fall asleep. His sweet son, Hunter. He was turning two years old tomorrow. Two whole years. Eddie couldn’t imagine him not existing, even if it didn’t start out the way he wanted to. Hunter’s mother had died six months after he was born; it was a subject Eddie didn’t talk about with many people. Not even his friends. Olivia was sick, she was tired, she thought the easiest way was to just disappear forever. He was angry at her, but he had loved her. In a way they only knew how to love one another. 

Hunter was the best thing that ever happened to him. He reaches his hand over to his face, gently caressing the spot between his eyes, his brown curly hair lined his face perfectly. His lips puckered while he slept, and he would go into random laughing fits in his sleep. Eddie would tell him that it was grandma making him laugh from Heaven. He sighs, taking the video monitor and putting on the white noise machine. 

He walks downstairs and plops himself onto the couch. 

“You’re doing good, Eds.” The voice comes out of the shadows. 

Oh yeah, he also talks to the dead mother of his child. It was worse after she died, then it went away for awhile. Now, it’s been a daily occurrence. He isn’t sure if it’s his way of coping with her death or if he’s actually talking to her, but he wasn’t in the mood. 

“Go away.” He mutters. 

Olivia’s form reaches his peripheral vision, but he doesn’t turn his head. He couldn’t. The last time he did she didn’t look normal, she looked very dead. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispers. 

“You keep saying that and I honestly don’t think you are.” He laughs, feeling tears form at the corners of his eyes, he sniffles them back. “It was your choice to leave us. Leave me alone.” 

“I just want you to be happy, Eddie.” Her voice is fading. 

“Who says I’m not happy?” He grumbles, glancing at the time on his phone. “Go say happy birthday to our son and then stay away.” 

He doesn’t feel her presence in the room, and he’s almost relieved. Their relationship was complicated, even before she got pregnant. They were just friends with benefits, met at the hideout and it became a weekly thing. He loved her, but he wasn’t in love with her. She felt the same, but they tried to make it work when she got pregnant. He noticed a change in her after Hunter was born, she stopped going to her postpartum appointments, had denied that she was depressed. She was a wonderful mother, but she didn’t think she was good enough. She said so in her note, and it has taken him over a year to prevent himself from lighting it on fire. 

He was grieving, he knew that. But he was grieving more so for Hunter not having a mother. Like himself. Robin has been a big help. She would show up unannounced, demand him to take a nap or shower and she would take care of Hunter. He didn’t say many words but when he would see her, he would say “Teetee”, Auntie was too hard for him right now. He sighs and texts Robin: 

Been hearing her again. 

His phone immediately rings and he groans, sliding it to answer. “You know I hate talking on the phone.” 

“I don’t care. When did it start up again?” He hears the beeping from inside her car and her door shut.

“Robin, you don’t need to come here, I’m fine.” Eddie groans, falling back on the couch, his long hair falling out of its half bun. 

“When did it start?” 

“I don’t know, two weeks ago maybe.” He pinches the bridge of his nose as soon as hears Robin huff. Demanding in the sweetest way possible why he didn’t tell her sooner, and if he needs her to come over more. “Robin…Robin…slow it down. I’m fine. I promise.” 

“Well, I’m still coming over.” 

Eddie groans. “I was just gonna smoke a joint and go to bed.”

“Okay, smoke a joint, I’ll be there in five.” 

She hangs up and Eddie sighs, running his fingers through his hair. He gets up from the couch, taking the video monitor with him and goes into the two-car garage. He turns the light of the garage on, his truck sat idle in one of the spaces and his Sweetheart, drum set, and musical equipment sat in the other spot. 

He lucked out finding this house; it was a fixer upper, and they gave it to him 3,000 dollars below the asking price. He was able to finish the basement; he did it all himself, with the exceptional help of Robin, Steve and Dustin. It was a two-floor cape house; covered in wall-to-wall carpet. Ripping it up was easy, adding new flooring was not. Uncle Wayne had helped with the rest, and Eddie had settled for area rugs and the house came together beautifully. Hunter took his first steps in the hallway; he got his first bump on his head on the kitchen cabinet when he didn’t know how to slow down when he was “running”. 

Eddie chuckles as he rolls the joint, at the time it wasn’t funny, because Hunter was screaming, and Eddie thought he had brain damage. He remembers Robin saying, “don’t react, don’t react…be calm”. And once he calmed down, Hunter calmed down and went about his business, finding his toy bus and playing with it in the living room. 

He lights the joint, inhaling on it deeply and letting it out slowly of his mouth. He hears Robin’s car pull on the driveway and he carefully lifts up the garage door, her lights blinding him. He waves at her to shut them off and she flicks the high beams at him twice just to add some extra annoyance. 

She giggles, coming out of the car, holding two plastic bags of snacks and drinks. He takes them from her, immediately opening the popcorn. 

“You really didn’t have to come here.” He says, chewing on the popcorn and then inhaling on his joint. He passes it to her, and she takes it willingly. 

“I’m on vacation and Vicky is away for the weekend with her sister.” She passes the joint back to him as they walk back into the garage. “Plus, you need a day off.” 

“I’m on vacation too.” He grumbles, and he was, he took two weeks off from the record shop he co-owned just to spend more time with Hunter and potentially start writing music again. 

“Dude, I mean like a day off.” She says, passing him a soda from the bag. “Me and Hunter can have an auntie day, and you can go run errands or go scream in the woods.” 

Eddie chuckles. “Screaming in the woods does sound appealing.”

“Please just take the day for yourself, man.” She tells him kindly, both finishing off the joint and walking back inside. “You need it.” She peels off her jacket, it was springtime, but the nighttime air was still a bit chilly. 

“I don’t want to put a burden on you, Rob. He can be a handful, and it’s his birthday.” He tells her, moving his way to the living room to check the monitor. 

“He’s obsessed with me. He saves the tantrums for you. I’m not saying go out for the whole day, just go do something for you for a couple hours, and then we can have cake when you get back.” She pats his shoulder, and he laughs. They both sit on the couch; Eddie puts on a music documentary for background noise. 

He feels her eyes on him, and he turns his head to look at her. “Go ahead, ask the question.” 

“Are you really okay?” She asks him, pulling her knees up to her chest. 

He sighs, leaning back on the couch. “Okay in what sense?” 

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m okay when I’m with Hunter. When he giggles at something he finds funny, when he grabs my face just press his forehead against mine, when he hugs me. Nighttime lately has been…lonely, I guess.” He groans, hating that he was opening up like this, but Robin could unfortunately read him like a book. 

“Do you miss her?” 

“Of course I do.” He says, sighing loudly after he hesitates. “I miss having a partner, she was so good. And Hunter loved her…” His throat clenches, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m pissed at her for robbing him of a mother. I’m fucking angry, Robin. She had the help in front of her, I don’t understand.” 

Robin is silent for a moment. “Sometimes it’s hard for some people to get out of that darkness. Being in constant pain everyday and just trekking along. It wasn’t your job to save her, Eddie.” 

“I could never leave him like that.” His voice trembles. “He’s everything to me.” 

“And he was everything to her.” Robin says, leaning over to grab his hand. “But sometimes, that isn’t enough.” 

“Well, it should’ve been.” He wipes his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about her anymore, the more I talk about her the angrier I get.”

“Has Hunter talked about her?” 

And…we’re still talking about her. 

“Not really, he will stare at her picture and smile. His eyes twinkle like hers, that bright blue mixed with green. It’s beautiful.” He tries to smile. “I just feel like his life is already gonna be fucked up because of this and because I’m his dad.” 

“You’re a great father, Eddie.” 

He’s quiet. 

“I question it sometimes.” 

“Well, you shouldn’t. That little boy loves you.” She squeezes his hand. “I don’t know a thing about being a parent, but I know my parents, and they sucked. It’s not easy, but you’re doing your best.” 

He rolls his eyes, groaning, laying his head against her shoulder. “Can’t you just let me be self deprecating for once? I hate that you’re a nice person sometimes.” 

“I hate that you’re mean to yourself. You’re my best friend, and I wish you would just see what I see.” 

“I need to write again.” He sighs. 

“So, write. Go somewhere tomorrow and do that.” She rests her head against his. He pats her knee, sighing. 

“Fine. I will do that…after I express some more self-deprecating behavior.” 

“You’re so annoying, dude.” She laughs, shoving him away. 

“It’s your fault for wanting to be my friend.” 

***

Hunter had woken later than usual; he was happy and giggling and as soon as he saw Robin’s face, he squealed with delight. Eddie had put on one of Hunter’s favorite songs, Let’s Dance by David Bowie and the two of them danced and sang the song to him with goofy faces which made him have full belly laughs. It took Eddie a few pushes from Robin before she could get him out of the house. He wasn’t sure where he wanted to go, but as he drove, he realizes he hasn’t been to the bookstore in a while. He had bought a lot of his music books back in the day from there, along with anything that had to do with the Lord of the Rings. He pulls into the parking lot and steps out, adjusting his jeans and his Knocked Loose t-shirt. As soon as he steps in the doorway, he is hit with a familiar aroma of books. He forgot how soothing it was to just stand there and take it all in. 

He wasn’t sure where to go first; they had done a lot of rearranging of the place. He settled with heading to the children’s section first. He felt like a little kid himself, remembering how it felt to open a new book and see the pictures pop out from the pages. He had a pile in his arms, one of the workers had to give him a basket so his arm wouldn’t fall off. He found children’s board books called Baby Bowie, Baby Janis and Baby Elvis. He found a children’s book rendition of the Goonies and Back to the Future, as well as a cute store about a pack of baby wolves in the woods. He exits the area, completely distracted by his next his adventure into the horror section when he accidentally collides with a woman in the aisle. He drops his basket, as well as causing her to drop her pile of books. 

“Oh shit, I am so sorry.” He tells her, squatting down to help her pick up up the books. 

“No, no, I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” 

That voice.

Eddie looks up. 

Your voice. 

The two of you lock eyes; Eddie almost topples over. 

“Oh my god…Eddie?!” You squeal with delight, getting to your feet and Eddie follows, lifting you off your feet as he hugs your waist tightly. He was almost shaking; it had been close to twenty years since he last laid his eyes on you. 

He pulls away to look at you and he smiles. “You haven’t changed.” 

You blush. “Neither have you.” You curl a piece of his hair in your finger. He stares at you and is having a hard time trying to find words as he hands your books to you. 

“How-how long are you in town for?” He asks you quietly, still smiling. 

“Oh, uh…permanently.” You say with a small laugh. “I moved into my parents house…my mom died a few years ago and my dad had to go to nursing home.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” He says sadly, grabbing your hand. “I didn’t know.” 

“I wouldn’t expect you to come, Eddie. You got your hands full. How’s your son?” You smile sweetly at him, and his heart does a pitter patter. 

“He’s awesome. He’s two today. He’s at my house hanging out with Robin.” 

“Robin Buckley? How is she?” 

“She’s great, getting married next year to Vicky.” 

Eddie had heard that you were married a few years ago, but he didn’t want to pry when he didn’t see a ring on your finger and the admission that you were living with your parents. You smile, shaking your head and taking out your phone. “You probably should be getting back to Hunter. I would love to catch up though.” You ask him for his number which he gives willingly, and you send Eddie a melting face emoji and he giggles. 

“Got it.” He smiles at you, and you smile back. You sigh, going up on your toes to hug his shoulders. “It was so good to see you.” 

Eddie squeezes your waist, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut. It has been a long time since another man held you like this. You pull away and say your goodbyes, going your separate ways. 

Eddie is still dumbfounded when he gets home, he couldn’t believe he ran into you. Robin notices the look on his face, and he tells her everything. 

“Whoa dude, the one who got away.” 

“I mean, not really.” He says, moving Hunter’s curly hair out of his eyes and kissing his forehead. “The only thing that happened was we kissed, and that was short lived because the cops came to break up the party in the woods.” 

“Kissed key word. Steve and I had been rooting for the two of you that whole summer.” 

Eddie laughs. “We were just friends at that point.” He pulls Hunter in his arms, rocking him gently and he lays his head against Eddie’s chest, ready to fall asleep for his afternoon nap. Eddie stares at Hunter, taking him all in as he sometimes does. His beautiful round cheeks, his full lips. The dimples he got from Eddie, so much more prominent. His bright blue eyes stare into his, and his little hand goes up to cup his cheek and Eddie kisses his palm. Robin was watching her best friend from the background, knowing that his little moment he was sharing with Hunter was a moment just for them. Eddie begins singing a soft melody to him, and by the time he’s finished, Hunter is sound asleep in his arms. 

Eddie had placed him in his pack and play in the living room, covering him with his favorite blanket. 

“Go write some music.” Robin says gently. “I’ll hang in here with him.” 

Eddie nods, gently squeezing her hand. “Thank you.” 

Eddie walks in the garage, sighing as he takes a pack of cigarettes he had hidden in the cabinet. He barely smokes anymore, but when he needs to write something, a buzz from nicotine will usually do the trick. He sits down on the stool behind the drum set, laying his composition notebook on the snare drum, opening it to a blank page. He lights up the cigarette, letting the fire burn his lungs. He closes his eyes, slowly letting out the smoke. He takes the cap off his pen with his teeth and hovers it over the blank page. 

A sound of a beer can opening…

A cute laugh…

He stares off for a moment, remembering…

A long time ago…

Eddie sits on a broken tree limb, smoking a cigarette and sipping his beer, staring at the bon fire. He was seventeen, sitting by himself while watching his friends socialize. He wasn’t in the mood to socialize tonight; he was already in a bad mood, but Robin and Steve really wanted him at the party. His dad had called from prison, asking Eddie to wire him some money for his canteen. Eddie told him to fuck himself, and his father ended the call to tell him it was the anniversary of his mother Elizabeth’s death. Which he had forgotten about. And he was oddly overcome with so much sadness and grief he didn’t know how else to process it besides sulking. Eddie feels a presence next to him, and turns to see you, gripping an empty beer bottle. 

“Walk with me.” You mutter quietly. 

“What?” Eddie asks you, confusion setting in but also concern on why your hands are trembling. “Are you okay?”

“No.” You whisper. “I’m pretty sure one of the dudes over there drugged me…please just walk with me.” 

A burning rage fills up Eddie’s lungs as he looks over at the crowd of football players, passing small glances over at the two of you. Eddie couldn’t fathom why someone would do that…especially to someone like you. Eddie stands up, about to walk over there but you grab his denim jacket in a tight fist. 

“No, Eddie. Walk with me.” You tell him, desperation in your tone and Eddie lets out a sigh and nods. You drop the beer bottle when he takes your hand and the two of you walk down a dark path towards where the moon overlooks the lake. 

You lean against a tree; Eddie watches you as you take in a few deep breaths. He walks towards you, gently taking your hand. 

“Walk me through it, are you feeling it?” He asks you carefully. 

“I don’t know…maybe? My legs feel weird. I know I’m drunk, but my heart won’t stop racing. I feel like I’m gonna get sick.” 

“If you puke it will dial down the effects of the drugs.” Eddie tells you gently, the rage still burning. “Who was it?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You say, hiccuping and then holding your stomach. “Some douche bag.” 

“I need a name.” 

“No, you don’t, what you need is to hold my hair back because if you keep talking, I’m gonna throw up on your shoes.” You awkwardly stumble into him as you clench your stomach with your arm, and you feel the bile rise to your throat and the vomit come out like a faucet. Eddie’s holding your hair and gently rubbing your back as you violently puke behind the tree. When you feel like you have nothing left from your insides, you groan, leaning back against the tree. You didn’t feel like you were going to black out anymore, but the slight high was still there. 

“There’s…water…in my bag…” you tell him quietly. “Can you get it for me, please?” 

Eddie nods, going through your bag and handing you a steel water bottle. You chug it; Eddie tells you to slow down so you don’t puke again but you wave him off. You slide down to your bottom on the cool ground, your legs covered in dirt. “Thank you.”

“Now will you tell me who it was?” 

You giggle. “No. It’s over with. I’m the idiot who took a drink from a stranger at a party in the woods.” 

“Don’t victim blame.” Eddie tells you with a smirk. 

“I’m not a victim. You, Eddie Munson were my knight and shining armor who rescued me.” You giggle at how ridiculous you sound. “Sorry, I’m still drunk and I’m trying to keep it together.” 

Eddie laughs, sitting next to you. His heart doing a pitter patter as he stares at you. Steve and Robin had introduced you to him two summers ago. You had hung out together but never alone like this, he couldn’t get over your beauty. Even in the moonlight, your features were breathtaking. 

“Are you okay?” You ask him quietly. “You’ve seemed a little off all night.” 

Eddie is caught off guard by your question. “Yeah, I’m okay.” He smiles at you, taking out his cigarettes. 

“Those are bad for you.” You smirk at him. “Haven’t you seen those commercials?” 

“Yup.” He laughs, twirling the lighter in his hands. “I won’t smoke if it bothers you.” 

“No, it’s fine, cause I’m probably gonna ask you for one.” You laugh. 

“But these are bad for you.” Eddie teases and you gently nudge him with your foot. 

“Give me one.” 

Eddie laughs, taking two from his pack, and handing you one. He lights yours first, the flame illuminating your face as you inhale deeply, you only cough a little and you lean your head back against the tree. The two of you sit in silence, your anxiety was subsiding. His presence alone was making you feel safe, comfortable. 

“I was thinking about my mom.” Eddie tells you after a moment and you glance over at him, he’s not sure why he told you, he guesses he just needed to say it out loud. “Today is her anniversary…and I forgot. So, I feel like a shitty son.” 

You lean closer to him. “I’m sorry.” 

Eddie shrugs. “It’s just a lifelong thing I have to deal with I guess.” 

You inhale on the cigarette, letting it billow from your nostrils. “My dad lost both of his brothers during Vietnam. His older brother got killed over there and his other brother came home but never left until he took his life. I remember being young and asking him how it feels to grow up without them, how they stay the same age, and he gets older, approaching their ages year after year. I think I caught him off guard because it took him awhile to say what he said. But he said, ‘it feels like being trapped in a current, one side of the water is pulling you towards where you don’t want to go, and the other side is fighting against you. You can either swim with all your might to avoid it until you’re exhausted, or you can let the current slowly carry you. That’s what grief is, it’s never ending, sometimes it’s okay to fight against it, but sometimes it’s not. It’s just empty love’.” 

Eddie stares in awe at you, feeling tears creep up into the corners of his eyes. “Wow. I never thought of it like that.” 

“Me either, but I’ve also never lost anyone.” You sigh, glancing at his solemn face. “She must’ve been an amazing woman.” 

“Yeah.” Eddie hesitates. “From what I remember. She’s why I love music, so I guess when I play music or write songs, I take her with me.” 

You smile, and gently rest your head against his shoulder. He tenses a little but relaxes, resting his cheek against the top of your head. This felt natural to you, and it surprisingly felt natural to Eddie. You didn’t even know what time it was, and in that moment you didn’t care. You could stay curled next to him forever. 

“Will I feel like this tomorrow?” You whisper. 

His curly hair tickles your forehead. “You’re probably gonna have a headache in the morning. Drink a lot of water.” 

“I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there…or if my first instinct wasn’t to come find you.” You lean your head up to look at his face and he meets your eyes, his heart racing over how close your faces were. “Thank you.” 

Eddie smiles, gently squeezing your hand. “Don’t need to thank me. You could give me a name though.” 

“Nope.” You laugh and he sighs, shaking his head. 

“I’m gonna find out eventually.” He says, snuffing the cigarette out on a rock. 

“And you’re going to do nothing because I told you to do nothing.” You say, meeting his brown eyes, staring at them and he stares back at you. “Did you know that your eyes have a bit of gold in them? They’re beautiful.” 

Eddie blushes and giggles. “You’re just drunk.” He bumps you with his shoulder. 

“No, well, yes but…I never noticed them before.” You move your hand up to cup his face and he almost flinches. “There’s a lot I didn’t notice before.” 

Eddie swallows the lump in his throat, carefully turning towards you so your knees are touching. He lifts his hand to curl a piece of hair behind your ear and you tremble. You lean towards his lips, and he pulls back a little, cupping your cheek. “Are you sure? You’re still drunk, I don’t want you to—"

“Just kiss me, you dork.” You laugh and he smiles shyly. He leans carefully towards you, slightly trembling as his soft lips press against yours. A thousand volts goes through your entire core as you kiss him, and he wonders why he never got the guts to kiss you before now. The kiss deepens, and you push your body closer to his as he cups the back of your head. His other hand grips your waist, and you sigh, sitting on his lap. 

“COPS!” 

Someone yells as they run past you two, and your lips pull away quickly. You could hear the sirens by the fire and the sound of walkie talkies. The two of you scramble to your feet, you grab your bag, and he takes your hand, both going into a sprint through the woods. You couldn’t stop laughing, the excitement of kissing him as well as the adrenaline from escaping the cops was making you feel all kinds of giddy. When the two of you felt comfortable enough to slow down, you both end up on a quiet road, which was near your house, the silence was calming, and you had to catch your breath from the laughing. 

“That was insane.” You laugh. “I’ve never run from the cops before.” 

“It’s a cake walk for me now.” Eddie laughs, taking your hand as you two walk silently towards your street. Thunder booms over head, rain begins to pelt you both. You laugh loudly as the rain becomes torrential and you’re running again to the sidewalk in front of your house. He walks you to the front door, the awning shielding you both from the rain and you giggle, moving your wet hair from your face. 

Eddie laughs, picking a piece of a leaf that landed in your hair. You smile at him, clearing your throat. 

“I had a lot of fun.” You tell him and he smiles. 

“Yeah, me too.” He grins. “Are you gonna be okay?” 

“I’ll be fine. I’ll message you if I need you to pull me out of a black out.” You joke. 

“Don’t scare me because I will sleep outside your window.” 

You smile at him, gently patting his face. “Thank you for everything, Eddie.” 

Eddie gently cups your chin, smiling. “Don’t need to thank me.” 

You laugh, shaking your head, opening your screen door quietly. You stop at the door, looking up at him. You lean up on your toes, kissing him softly on the lips and open your front door. You wave to him from your foyer, telling him to text you when he got home safely. 

Eddie walked through the rain that night with a smile on his face, still feeling the tingle of your lips against his. 

It was a feeling he hasn’t felt before, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to lose it yet. 

Eddie groans, closing his notebook. He didn’t write anything, he was in a daze, thinking of you, remembering that kiss. The kiss that sealed the deal that you were the girl of his dreams, but then life happened, you never really saw each other again. But he always thought about you, always wondered what if, even when he was with Olivia. He sighs, taking his cell phone out of his pocket and scrolling to the text message you had sent him earlier. 

He didn’t know what to say, or what to ask. He didn’t know if it was too soon to reach out to you or if you were waiting for him. Coffee was innocent enough, right? He needed to find a babysitter first, only for a few hours. He couldn’t ask Robin again, he felt too bad, but he knew she would say yes. He felt extremely guilty suddenly; he shouldn’t be leaving him with babysitters. 

“Text her.” Olivia’s voice comes out of the shadows and Eddie gasps loudly, falling off the drum stool. 

“Fuck.” Eddie says, catching his breath. “Go away.” 

“Not until you text her.” He could feel her presence, and his hands tremble as he keeps his eyes fixed on the high hat. He knew she was right behind him, but he wouldn’t look. 

“You’re an actual nightmare.” He mutters, reaching for his phone. 

“Take Hunter with you if you have to.”

“No, I don’t want to confuse him.” 

“How would you confuse him?”

“She’s not you.” Eddie says, his heart slowly breaking.

“No, she’s not. But, Eddie…this will be good for you, for both of you.”

Eddie stares at the blinking cursor on the text thread, his fingers hovering over the keypad. He doesn’t feel Olivia’s presence anymore and quickly types up a message, hitting send.

Hi, I’m not sure if you have plans or not tomorrow, but would you like to meet for coffee in the morning? There’s a café near my house where they have cake pops that Hunter loves. I hope you don’t mind that he tags along.

She responds immediately: Why would I mind? He’s your son. Of course I would love to meet for coffee. 8am okay?

Eddie smiles. That sounds perfect. 

[lurkingshan]

Last Twilight Episode 12

A month ago, I never could have predicted that I’d be sitting here trying to assemble some thoughts to explain how on earth this show went so badly off the rails. I am truly taken aback by where this story landed, and I advise anyone who wants to think of it fondly to just pretend it ended at episode 9, and even skip the finale if you haven’t watched yet. Before I get into it, let me just start with a word of praise for the cast, who did a great job with their performances and kept this show afloat when the writing fell apart. And boy, did it fall apart.

In my view, this narrative had three main threads it was addressing: 1) Day’s journey to accepting his disability; 2) unresolved family trauma; and 3) Mhok and Day’s romance. And in the end, it failed on all three of them. I am going to dig into this and I am not feeling particularly nice, so if this is going to hurt your feelings I suggest you stop reading now. 

Day’s Journey

Just…wow. We have been afraid of this turn the entire time and trying to hold out hope that the show would not go there, but here we are. I started laughing out loud when we got to the end of part 3 and Mhon’s phone went off with an alert for a new eye donor, and then just stared incredulously at my screen as we time skipped AGAIN to a Day whose vision had been restored for years (last week I joked to @bengiyo and @waitmyturtles that once a drama starts using time skips it becomes addictive and they never stop, and—welp!). What was this entire show for? Why did we spend twelve episodes with Day grieving his vision loss, learning how to cope, and finally accepting his blindness only to completely undercut it at the end? The first part of the finale was so much about how he was thriving—finding a new career for himself and becoming self-sufficient and growing so much on his own—only to give us an ending that implied he could not actually have his happily ever after without his vision restored. 

And this is in fact the message they sent by coupling the return of his vision with the return of he and Mhok’s relationship, and giving us a happy ending rooted in his contentment at having his sight back. They even went back to the Last Twilight mountain to completely tarnish the thematic resonance of the original scene. Calling back to the beautiful memory of Day “seeing” the sunset and experiencing “a moment so good that you feel like you can live there forever” as he accepted his disability with this scene of him seeing the real sunset with his restored vision was so hurtful to me that I actually got angry. Day didn’t need his vision back to get a happy ending, and I absolutely hate what this communicates about disabled people’s capacity to live happy and fulfilling lives. This show has created many writing sins but this is the most unforgivable to me.

Family Trauma

The show began dropping the ball on this one a few weeks ago, but this finale put the nail in the coffin. We spent most of this episode at Porjai and Night’s wedding, an event that might have felt meaningful if the show had let us see any of their romance. I’m grateful to Mark Pakin and Namtan Tipnaree for their beauty and charisma because it’s the only thing that made me care about those scenes at all. Rather than actually being about them, however, this wedding was used primarily as a clunky vehicle to deliver heavy-handed messages about “second chances” to encourage Day to get back together with Mhok (more on that in the next section). 

I did enjoy the brief nods in this episode to the brothers continuing to have newfound harmony in their relationship, but where the show really lost me was in their attempt to bring Night and Day’s dad back into the mix and imply some sort of resolution between him and Mhon. Mhon, a woman whose perspective on their split we never actually saw, whose motivation for her choices and behavior toward her sons were completely elided by the narrative, who was forgiven and made peace with offscreen during a time skip. I was never given the chance to understand her or what this relationship meant to her in the first place, so why would I care about these scenes with her making her peace with this man? I continue to be so confused about where this show chose to spend its time, and why someone with Aof’s track record on developing strong and narratively important familial relationships dropped the ball so much with her. 

The Romance

Okay, let’s get into it, and remember what I said about not reading if this is going to hurt your feelings! My criteria for considering a romance successful is I have to believe the relationship is mutual, beneficial to both of the pair, and that the couple is prepared to weather future challenges. Last Twilight’s romance fails on all three fronts, and it all comes down to the total imbalance in the relationship that persisted right through the final scenes.

This entire narrative has been Mhok bending to Day’s will, giving Day what he needs, forgiving him for everything, and letting him make all the decisions about the relationship, and the finale was regrettably more of the same. In episode 11, Mhok made a mistake when he lied to Day about turning down the job in Hawaii. But he made that mistake out of grief and fear, and Day didn’t care—he unfeelingly rejected him and his pain and ended their relationship without a second thought. That was potentially forgivable as a momentary lapse borne out of instinctual hurt, and could have been repairable had Day reconsidered soon after and extended Mhok some grace. But in this episode, we find out Day blocked Mhok and refused to communicate with him again after that night, and has left Mhok completely in the cold for three years after he failed to be perfect one (1) time.

And this episode? Was on Day’s side in this conflict. Mhok is the one to return and start pursuing Day again. Mhok is the one to broach the topic of their breakup. Mhok is the one to thank Day for breaking his heart and tell him he did nothing wrong (y’all, I almost threw something at the screen). Mhok’s grief and trauma go completely unaddressed in this finale until they try to play the Rung card for one last moment of sentiment. Day cries to his mother about how he just doesn’t know if he can forgive Mhok. And in the end, Mhok makes the grand gesture, missing his flight to go to Day and stay in Thailand with him despite the successful life he has built in Hawaii.

The cognitive dissonance I felt watching this play out was extreme. I rarely see a writer misunderstand their own characters and relationship conflict so thoroughly. In order to believe in this romance we needed to see Day finally show some empathy for Mhok, take responsibility for his own mistakes, and be the one to make an effort this time. We needed to believe that Day has the capacity to be a supportive partner to Mhok even when he’s struggling. But Day didn’t demonstrate any of that, and so I simply don’t believe in this relationship. I don’t believe Mhok can trust Day not to abandon him again when some other major life event intervenes and Mhok is less than perfect. And that’s a shame, because the show really almost had something here with these two. 

And that’s all I got. What a disappointment this show turned out to be. If you need me, I will just be over here in my little corner imagining the Night and Porjai romcom that we never got and pretending the rest of this show ended several weeks ago.

[darlingsaturn]

Price’s Hot Spouse

Alex truly do look similar to Price.

Warning : dubcon, afab, unprotected sex, & implied cuckold.

Note : Part 2? +I EDITED IT! Sorry, i forgot what the nb word for Mr/Mrs while writing this😭

If anyone say that Alex is his son, i would’ve believe them. No question whatsoever.

But imagine this: reader is Price’s spouse who’s close with his colleagues and team. The TF members likes to come over, along with his trusted allies for a peaceful dinner at his house.

One night while the rest of the team were drinking away and sharing story, his spouse goes upstairs to rest for the night.

Since it’s already night time, you didn’t bother using the big light, only using the one on the nightstand. You were just finished showering and was about to slip on your night garment but felt a pair of hands hugging you from behind.

Based on the size of the hands and the similar body shape, you just assume it’s your husband and let him cope a feel.

“Don’t be too rough, love.” You warned him while holding back a moan from his hands that are massaging your breast.

Impatiently, he put on a blindfold over your eyes and you were a bit confused. John always says that he wants you to always look at him while making love. He said it turn him on when he see how hard you’re trying to keep your eyes on him with every thrust.

But at the same time, John is always the adventurous one, always suggesting new ways to spice up their love making. So, you figure it’s one of those nights.

You let him take the lead as he man handle you as he pleases. His move is a bit sloppy and clumsy, like he’s testing the water, but he is still gentle, something that your husband pride himself when it comes to you.

“Don’t tease me, John...” you groan impatiently. You felt him kissing you and stripping your towel in one harsh movement before putting your back on the mattress.

When your head meets the pillow, you hear rustling of clothes, meaning he is stripping down. Then his hand immediately latch onto your skin, as if he’ll die without skin contact.

You felt his cock twitching on your thigh with every noise that you let out. His fingers comfortably playing with your clit. Trying to open you up and prep you, but mostly because of his own needs.

After making you cum once with his fingers, he need to taste you. NEED IT. So he held your legs apart as he eat your pussy like a starve man. The sensitivity of just cumming and the warm feeling of his mouth just made you shudder in pleasure as you cum one more time, now on his mouth.

“Good girl.” He praised you as he lick your juice from his lips. His voice is different from your husband but you were too far gone to notice. You’re enjoying it, he can tell.

“‘M gonna take care of ya.” He murmur as he line his dick. Slowly he push his dick in and kissing your collarbone while waiting for your signal to move.

In your dazed mind, you do felt the difference of penis. For one, your husband’s dick is larger, fat, and veiny. Like an angry bull when it’s fully erect. But this man’s dick is leaning into large in length instead of width, although it’s still veiny.

“‘m wanna move...” he whined on your shoulder. Your thought doesn’t go very far since his dick keep twitching inside your walls. He can’t help it! It’s too warm, too comfortable, but also tight. He wanna feel more!

On instinct, you tap his shoulder twice, a code that only your husband knows, that means you’re ready.

It seems the man also knew this code and he start moving in and out of you cunt. Is he your husband then? You can’t think properly like this!

“Mmfh! S-slow down!” You moaned out. Instead of slowing down, he just goes even more feral. “Feels so good...! I’m sorry, i can’t slow down! I’ll make it up to you. I promise!” He stutter out his sentences as his move began going rapid but still on rhythm.

“Jo-“ His mouth catch yours, just as you were about to moan your husband’s name. His kiss is filled with needy lust and happiness. As if he’s been waiting for this for a long time.

You grab his arm and direct him to touch your clit since you want to cum too. And he immediately picks up on it as he begin teasing your clit while still moving his hips and kissing your lips.

His movement began going sloppy when he felt you clamping down on him. “F-fuck!” He moan into your mouth. “Wanna cum...” you whined.

He kiss your cheeks and lick the tears that escape the blindfold from your cheeks. “‘m gonna fill ya, yeah?” He mumbled.

You nods, waiting for the permission to release while your hands are on his shoulders, trying to find stability. Although he quickly reposition the two of you in a mating press, your hand are now on either side of your head as you held onto the sheets and legs are thrown onto his shoulders.

His movement goes bold but still sloppy before he squeezed your waist twice, a code that only your husband knows, that means to cum now.

He pour his seeds deep inside you at the same time as you cum all over his dick.

Both of you are sweating and out of breath but still keeping the position because he still want to feel you close. But he knows he need to lay you down, so he did with gentleness.

He pull out his dick and lay your legs on the mattress, giving it a squeeze of ‘well done’ before his hand went up to caress your still blindfolded face.

“I love you. God, i’ve been in love with you since the day Captain Price introduce his spouse.” His words made your heart skip a beat, and it’s not out of flattery but out of panic.

HE’S NOT YOUR HUSBAND???!!!

He took off the blindfold and kiss you lips quickly while you are still adjusting to the light. A few seconds passed by and you now can see the man in front of you.

You pushed him off of you as strong as you could, which is not a lot in the first place but even more after cumming three times. Regardless, he relented and moves away from your embrace, although not without a pout.

“ALEX?!” You could not believe that you just fucked your husband’s coworker!

“That’s a good show, love.” A familiar voice praise you. You glance to the side to find your husband smiling on the chair with his dick out and cum all over his hand.

“John?” You called for him. But your vision is immediately being violated by harsh light, as somone turn on the bedroom light.

After a few seconds, you regain your sight and saw John’s team and their allies in your marital bedroom. Their eyes are filled with lust and want. The buldge on their pants are noticeable but they seems to be more interested in you.

“John? What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, love. Should’ve told you beforehand, but the boys agreed on telling you themselves.” He apologized.

“Told me what?” You began asking nervously as the guys start smiling, even Simon from behind his mask.

“On sharing you, Mx. Price. We love you so much, we can’t handle not being yours anymore.” Alex kissed your open palm.

Your eyes widen and heart beating uncontrollably. You loves John, that’s for sure. But the others? You never even look at them more than just your husband’s coworkers.

“Don’t hurt your pretty head. We’re gonna make you love us, yeah?” Johnny approach the bed and start kissing your shoulder while caressing your arm.

John smile at you. “They’re good boys, love. Give ‘em a chance, will you? If you still doesn’t feel anything, we can just make it into strictly sexual or even stop it all together.” He assure you. “I just want my spouse to be worship like what they’re suppose to.”

“Can i be your second husband?” Phillip cheekily asked.

“That position is mine.” Alex retort.

“I’m fine with third.” Kyle interjected.

“Let’s start with boyfriends first.” Simon cut their chatters.

Alex, Johnny, Simon, Kyle, Phillip, Nikolai, Gary, Alejandro, Rudy, Sandman, and Frost. Knowing your husband, you might have to assume there’s more than them.

With a sigh, you smile at John and the boys.

“Anything for you, John.”

[borderlinereminders]

I post a lot about self-soothing and working on needing reassurance. And while it’s important to do, it doesn’t mean that’s how it always has to be.

I try self soothing first. Sometimes with my best friend, I know my feelings at her aren’t her fault. It’s something small that’s triggered insecurity even though I know it’s not rational. And I try to deal with the feelings myself first. But sometimes I can’t. And it’s okay.

In these cases, I usually go to her. I’ll tell her “I know it’s not rational and it’s not your fault. But I’m having feelings about x, y and z”. If possible, I’ll tell her what I’m looking for (like reassurance).

She’s always very happy to offer me that reassurance. She knows that I’ve come so far and worked hard and if she can reassure me, she’s often happy to in order to make it easier for me.

I’m going to share my most recent example under the read more for a real life example of how I applied this.

But my overall point is that it is absolutely okay to ask for reassurance and sometimes you need to. It’s just important to do it in a healthy way.

A few weeks ago, she was overwhelmed and busy. I offered to watch her dog for her while she was working. I didn’t get a response back because she was thinking about it.

And then I found out someone else was watching her dog.

I felt a lot of confusing emotions. I felt angry. I also felt insecure, like she didn’t trust me. I was frustrated at her and the person now watching her dog. I felt jealous.

I used skills to try and cope with these feelings. I didn’t lash out at her. I tried using logic to suggest alternatives to myself. Perhaps it wasn’t personal that she picked someone else. Maybe it was for logistical reasons. It was probably just easier for her.

I tried to sleep on it, but the feelings were growing. No matter what coping skills I used. Sometimes, the coping skills don’t work to self soothe or talk myself through it.

I was feeling annoyed for small things and I knew that it wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t done something wrong. But I decided to talk to her about it. I didn’t want the feelings growing and causing issues and they weren’t going to sort themselves out.

Here are copy and pastes from our actual conversation :

Me: My explanation for feeling hurt is that **** told me she was taking Storm and I felt hurt because I offered twice and you didn’t respond at all to it. It made me feel like I did something wrong to break your trust. I am really emotionally sensitive right now and I know I’m having an *extremely* heightened emotional reaction to it but I can’t seem to let go of the bad feelings. And I know it’s not your fault. But also it just feels bad and I feel like I need to tell you about these feelings because I can’t let them go on my own. I could really use some reassurance.

Her: That’s so valid.

If context helps you feel less BPD, I was actually trying to figure whether to leave Storm at home or bring her to you but I needed to know my new start time at work with the new schedule before I’d know if I could make the timing work to drop her off with you after the ferry.

Then *** was sad about the breakup with *** and I offered to lend her Storm as an emotional support animal. I know she really struggles with being alone when she is sad. And I decided I could do without my dog temporarily. I can see how it would’ve seemed like I preferred having **** watch Storm.

But your BPD is very valid, I probably would’ve felt the same way under the circumstances. I hope you have a great day and I hope you know I love you. Also that I think you’re great with dogs and would have 100% wanted you to watch Storm this week.

-

( The name of the person watching her dog are blacked out for privacy reasons.) While she didn’t need to share the context, she chose to do that so she could better offer reassurance. I also want to point out that she validated my feelings. My emotional reaction was heightened but she still validated me. She also then offered reassurance for my specific concern (that I wasn’t trusted). She was patient and understanding. I was valid to need reassurance but her reaction to it was super valid and why it felt so safe to seek reassurance from her.

[mimez-meme]

Defending hizashi chapter 420 (spoilers!)

(Please bear with me I’m not exactly amazing with my words or explaining but I tried, some of the points in here would have been mentioned before/talked about before)

Look im not saying what happened in chapter 420 didn’t annoy me a bit, like i was a bit angry at hizashi. But you gotta remember he has reasons for why he acted that way and it isn’t necessarily his fault? Idk

This man has been bottling up all his emotions for 15 years or more. Taking aizawa’s life way more serious then his, he wants to be aizawa’s protecter and make sure he finds happiness. He would do anything to make sure he gets that. (He also doesn’t view himself as a person he views himself as a third person if that makes sense) His reactions in 420 is a good example of what bottling up emotions can do to you, it can make you loose control when faced with those emotions, which is basically what happened.

Present mic CANNOT cope or deal with his emotions, half the time I doubt he knows how he actually feels He uses aizawa as a way to distract himself from the grief and his emotions, as he understands shota’s, and when aizawa is around he focus’s on him, not himself. When it’s just him, he will do anything to take his mind off his feelings by overworking, drinking ect. Now along with bottling up all his emotions he’s buried oboro, well not fully. He clearly isn’t over him but he’s trying to be for aizawa. He’s trying to get over his trauma. Because he’s built up all these emotions, made this persona, buried deep all his traumas and then being forced to face the worse trauma caused him to snap, beacuse he doesn’t want this, this isn’t how things were meant to be. He’s lost the patience to just move on, leading him to be violent and aggressive. Even aizawa was shocked when he snapped and told him to shut up and calm down in the car scene whatever. being forced to face him again clearly had an massive affect on him and he’s still trying to reject the fact that oboro could possibly be a villian cuz in his eyes villains don’t deserve to be forgiven they are horrible humans and don’t deserve second chances and he doesn’t want to believe his best friend who talked and told him about the ways and how they’re all going to be heros together, be a villain. Facing oboro once more has made all his emotions spark and like mentioned he cannot deal with that. Whenever he starts to show vulnerability he instead starts to act angry to cover up his true emotions with anger Because it’s better then being ‘weak’ and showing vulnerability infront of aizawa or others. His bottled emotions also seemed to of bottled up into anger, which is once more a common thing for those who bottle up emotions. Clearly hizashi is upset and hurt by all this but he refuses to show it. Now onto actually discussing chapter 420, killing kurogiri to hizashi is the only escape, only way to stop all these emotions, in this chapter he’s crying. And aizawa ‘points it out’ and when he does he responds with ‘I’m a man, men don’t cry!” However he doesn’t actually believe that he just thinks HE can’t cry because we see present mic attempt to comfort aizawa when he’s sad, he even punched the fucking doctor for making him cry. He wouldn’t do that if he thought MEN couldn’t cry. However it turns out aizawa wasn’t even talking about hizashi he was talking about Oboro/kurogiri, beacuse he’s crying. I’m sorry but it kinda felt like aizawa was ignoring hizashi then, and aizawa has never really acknowledged how hizashi really feels beacuse to him hizashi hasn’t changed all these years but to us we see obvious changes. (He said that in my hero justice 2)

Hizashi is facing so many emotions at once and like I said he CANNOT cope or deal with it, he has no distractions, it’s oboro and facing him again that’s making all his emotions spark, if your someone who’s bottled up their emotions for years and then one day your hit with a wave of them, and they suddenly they all come out whatever you will not know what to do. Hizashi is scared, angry, upset ect ect, it’s causing him to be violent. He wants aizawa to be happy, and safe but he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to kill oboro he wants to kill kurogiri but he knows kurogiri is oboro but he’s in denial. He doesn’t want to see Oboro has this villain but he knows deep down it’s true. (Now I’m talking about a different chapter, I forgot what one) When kurogiri dies/goes to save shigaraki we see zashi crying, he even said “thanks bud” when kurogiri opened a Portal for him to go to the battle field. At his point we see that hizashi seems to of finally came with terms of kurogiri being oboro but obviously he dies, if hizashi really wanted kurogiri dead he wouldn’t have cried? If that makes sense he wanted to save him like aizawa. Now beacuse kurogiri is dead present mic is going to have to carry MORE guilt probably more guilt then aizawa.

I still don’t think that was everything tho/ all his emotions. Like just think about how powerful zashi is, I think he was still holding back. Because he has been bottling them up for 15 years so there’s no way that’s everything. Yk?

His reaction was valid and in character for him.

The moment he shows emotions people hate him, like come on guys, Be so fucking fr. Like present mic is angry at himself, the villians ect. He couldn’t protect his friends, it was the villians who did this.

Thanks for reading!! And sorry if any mistakes or if some of it doesn’t make sense😓

‼️oh yeah he also has the black and white mindset and that’s believed to maybe be another trauma response‼️

[hvenart]

I absolutely love the new season of young royals. I also love how it furthered my disdain for out of touch rich people. They finally took full advantage of the setting of the show and showed how ignorant people with wealth can be.

You have Felice’s friend group who I and I’m gonna be completely honest CANNOT STAND. Like I like madison but frederika and Stella are so infuriating. Frederika has a knack for saying the most tone-deaf stuff that really gets under my skin and Stella is so blunt and just not in a good way. The way they almost got angry with Felice for calling out the toxic traditions and the bad school environment. It never affected them so it cannot POSSIBLY have been that bad. I love how they acknowledged Felice being one of the only black girls at the school and the friends just not getting it. Not understanding what the issue is exactly and just responding with ‘you’re beautiful.’ Felice knows she’s beautiful. She isn’t insecure she’s just calling out the biases of the teachers but she realises she’s not gonna be able to have a fruitful conversation with them so she just moves on to not make things awkward.This is so relatable for a black girl with an all white friend group. Sometimes the discussion is not worth your energy.

But they are NOTHING compared to Vincent and some of the other guys. The comments they made were sometimes so infuriating I had to pause to compose myself. They are a slightly different case since they actually full on faced the toxicity but especially Vincent refuses to cope with it and continues to traumatise students further(sure not as bad as he faced but initiations will always be disgusting)

The times he calls Simon a communist for simply speaking out about problems ( I don’t think my man payed attention in politics) yet will do a protest for a thing he’s not happy with cus hey how hard can it be poor people do it not realising how draining it can be (he should be happy they gave in so quickly cus he was not prepared)

And Wilhelm….

I’m probably gonna do a second post about him because I wanna get all my thoughts out before the final ep.

I love him but I love how Simon called him out about how he didn’t realise how privileged he was. Don’t get me wrong he faces a lot of problems because of it but he doesn’t understand some of the struggles. He saw the camping trip as just a bad night but Simon saw it for what it was. Two types of people with an incredible difference of wealth not being able to understand each other because one doesnt know how the world works. How much struggle the ordinary person has while they just see things as a given.

The lack of understanding between the two was always gonna cause conflict and honestly you can’t even blame them

(Though I will slightly blame rich people for being so out of touch with world issues but hey guess that’s just poor me talking who’s jealous of them)(Wilhelm tried his best and so did Simon)

[universesweetheart]

Your Umbrella (Dazai x Reader)

I love him. My baby, my love, my sunshine is safe and happy in my bed.

Wrote this before watching today's new episode! This feels rushed because I was too excited for the new episode to wait to write it out. Sorry babes, Dazai is my top priority.

Post episode Mars: I giggled and kicked my feet like a little girl! That was some gay shit, but HELLO DAZAI IS ALIVE! My babyboo ahh.

(Also did you guys see the chapter236 JJK leaks?! I shall write for Gojo...I'm coping)

Writing is how I cope.

In which we talk with Dazai while we both overlook the setting sun (see what I did there hehe)

Bye now - Mars ♡

Together on a bench, onlooking the sunset, you and Dazai sat in silent. The rays of the warm sunlight pleasant on your skin and face. The clouds, a pretty colour of orange and yellow. The blue contrast of the sky blended nicely.

“Why are you a detective?” you asked Dazai, you were in a sulky mood today, you felt… drifty, for lack of a better word. It was one of those days where you wake up and question your existence. Why were you you? Why did you want to do this job? Why did your life turn this way?

Dazai shifted his gaze to you, his eyes looking at yours. He let out a silent sigh before giving you a smug smile.

“Don’t I look like I belong here? Plus it’s quite interesting” He looked up at the pretty clouds and then muttered under his breath, “This job comes naturally to me”

“Brushing my teeth comes naturally to me but that’s because I’ve done it a million times” you stated, and you heard him chuckle.

“I suggest you don’t compare your little daily routine to my life darling” he snorted, eyes still on the sunset.

“Do you take pride in your job?”, you continued to probe. Your mind was curious, but your heart wasn’t. Your heart feared triggering him and making him angry, a product of your own troubled past. But you knew Dazai, you wanted to believe you did, and he wouldn’t snap like that. He was too much of an unserious person. But what if?

Dazai gave a small nod, confirming your assumption. He turns to look at you, “it’s because of my job that I’ve been able to accomplish many things” his smile smug, “Impressive, yes? Heh.”

“Many things like?” You seem to not take the hint to not go further but you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Handling guns” he jokes and you chuckle, it wasn’t even funny. His voice just made everything sound giddy.

“Have you accomplished happiness?” you tilt your head and look back at him.

Dazai freezes up but quickly basks it with a little laugh and turns backed to face the sun. A desperate attempt to avoid your eyes. “Do I look unhappy?” he muses, his voice teasing.

“I’d rather not judge a book by its cover. You tell me.”

Dazai laughs, “What a curious thing you are, asking me such a thing” he smiles, it’s not pretty you think.

“Should I be irritated by your little question or find it funny how straightforward you are” He asks you with a little smirk. When you don’t answer and just stare at him, he adds “Happiness had abandoned me, I’ll say, a very long time ago.”

Abandonment? Was this the closest Dazai will ever allow you to be? Desperate and lovesick, you grabble at any piece of crumbs he gives. It’s pathetic. You attempt to keep your cool, but you’re sure he knows how you really feel. He seems to always know everything.

“Doesn’t that contradict the philosophy ‘Happiness is found inside of us’?”

Dazai glances at you for a moment, then back to the sun, he let out a small hum of interest. You really had a way of surprising him, not that he’d ever let you know that.

“I suppose so, however the happiness I’m searching for cannot be reached. I assure you that.”

You stole a glance at his face, he seems to be reminiscing on something. Or maybe that was just another façade to lead you astray from his true feelings.

“Why not?”

With a bit of hesitation, he smiles, eyes bright. A change that catches you off guard, Dazai shifts closer to you. The edge of his trench coat brushing up against your pants. He lowers his voice several octaves, almost in a forbidden whisper, “Because I am searching for one thing that cannot be obtained.”

Your eyebrows shot up, “And what’s that? Dinosaurs?”, a futile attempt to lighten up the conversation. You wanted so badly a shred of him, the real him, but now that you think you’re getting it, you’re not sure. You’re running away.

Dazai laughs amused by your response, the corners of his eyes crinkling up as he closes them, letting the laughter overtake him. “Good observation, but no” he clicks his tongue playfully, “To put it simply. I am searching for one thing to fill…” he sighs out and shakes his head a little.

“Ah” he giggles, “I’m not sure what I’m searching for” he deflects. He doesn’t know if he should share, if he could bare to say it out loud. Because to say it out loud would mean to admit it. To acknowledge it.

Bullshit. You knew it was a lie. He was a liar. Damn your heart for falling for him.

Looks at him, “It’s okay” you said with a sigh, “I’m searching for myself in a way,” you decided to turn the conversation on you to avoid going to go down the road of awkwardness.

“The thing…I’m searching for doesn’t exist, love doesn’t exist.” He sounded like he was in pain. Like it pained him to say that. To tell you that. You find yourself feeling guilty, did you pressure him?

“Love isn’t limited, so again, why?” you continue.

Once again for the multiple time, Dazai laughs “Curious little thing indeed” he turns to look at you, “Think you have a chance, Bella?”

You find your face heating up and keeps your eye on the sun to avoid his gaze.

“Do you think you could meet my standards? They’re quite high” he teases and once again you think he’s deflecting. A big distraction to avert your eyes from peering at him.

He holds his head up high, his gaze on you unwavering. You aren’t looking at him, but the intensity of his eyes pins you to this old bench.

“Are they high to protect your heart?” you blurt you before you even knew what you were saying. “Sorry!” you instantly apologize.

Dazai was surprised by your statement, yes that was exactly what it was. He stayed silent for a moment, contemplating your words. “Perhaps,” he sighs, shall I take a chance? He questions himself, a battle between his brain. “I have set out expectations that I’m even unsure about myself.” He spoke and then stayed silent. He waited for your next words. His heart was pounding yet his face had a smug smile.

“Expectations are like umbrellas, they stop rain and sun from reaching us” you state, and then laughs.

“Indeed, but what’s your point?”

“Rain is like pain, yes your umbrella, your walls, protect you from it” you cross a leg over the next, eyes drinking in the sunlight. “But you miss out on the warm sun too.”

Dazai ponders to himself for a moment. It appears you’ve managed to grasp a greater sense of him. Did he underestimate you? No, he wouldn’t be so careless. “Quite the profound analogy you have there, it’s fascinating.” He smiles at you, “How did you come to this conclusion, might I ask?”

“You know, I like sun especially in the mornings and evenings, it’s like a warm hug” you fiddle with your shirt, “but I also like rain, though sometimes storms are too harsh for my umbrella.”

Dazai observed you for a while, the silence between you two comfortable. He noticed the light pink tinting your cheeks and the way you avoided his eyes. You had intrigued him, maybe he truly had a soft spot for you.

The silence was not comfortable for you, did you overstep? Did he find your analogy dumb? Your mouth acted on its own, “I always use my umbrella” you stated, “But one harsh storm broke it, and I was drenched with a skeleton of an umbrella” your eyes have this faraway look, he notes.

“And then the sun hit me and I wasn’t ready and I was scared” you breathe out, closing your eyes. Dazai thinks the sight is better than the setting sun, “But it dried up my wet clothes and wet skin and wet hair. It felt warm and…yellow” you laugh softly, “yellow is such a beautiful colour, yes?”

He hums, “Are you saying that you decided to get rid of your protection and walk and bask in the sunlight that you so adore” his voice is light and teasing. His eyes laser focused on you as if you’d burst open and come up with a new revelation.

“Yes, sun being metaphor for love. Rain for pain, umbrella for protective walls and wet for I guess, depression?” you break down your words, trying to make him understand. He already understands, he just loves your voice so much.

“To translate from my understanding, you’re saying you choose love regardless of the costs?” you nod.

“You fascinate me,” he admits boldly, “Do you have someone in mind?”

“Someone in mind?”

“For love, the person you choose will be a caliber of that, do you?” He shifts his eyes to the clouds. A blissful sight.

“When I say sun is love I don’t speak of lovers. I would say I’m my own sun. A lover would be a mirror, reflecting to me how bright my own sun shines.” Your lips presses together into a thin line.

“A mirror, I see” he chuckles. “Oh, you curious little thing” he smiles.

“Then can we test this?”

“Test what?”

“Let go of your umbrella and let me be your mirror,” he takes a hold of your hand, “Belladonna,”

“Osamu”

His heart stops when you whisper his given name. It sounded so beautiful falling from your lips. “Say it again” he leans in and connects your lips together.

[lightofraye]

You are ridiculous, you have proof of nothing, all you have is selective blindness and deafness. you just choose to ignore every instance in which Jensen shows affection to anyone who isn't Jared. it doesn't matter how many times he expresses that he loves his wife, or his other friends like Misha. or even his own kids. you just don't want to hear it. all the good things he has, all the blessings and the large amount of love surrounding him, you don't want to see that, you rather have a drama novel. you don't want to see Jensen as a real person, all you can see is the twisted version of him that you made up on your head, a poor diminished guy who needs alcohol to cope with his miserable life and whose only friend in the whole wide world is JP. so how does your little novel ends? maybe you should write it down and finally be done with it. does Jensen die at the end? does he kills himself? or perhaps he's murdered by Danneel.

Y’know… I was going to put off answering this until tomorrow, but no.

Because you actually said something so horrific it demanded a response.

You think that’s the fate Jensen deserves? I mean… did you really think he doesn’t deserve a happy ending? Because I never said that. You did.

In fact, the part about the kids baffle me. Where have I ever said he doesn’t deserve his children? If anything my heart has been broken by the fact he’s away so much—forced to be away—that his eldest daughter is crying over it.

And you say I don’t see him as a real person? Really? What’s the flip side of my perspective? The AAs who see him so perfect, never capable of making a mistake? Who of us doesn’t see him as a real person?

I see his flaws. To borrow a phrasing an anon used on another blog, I see his freckles. I see his slightly crooked nose. I see those adorable eye crinkles that come out in full force when he smiles

I also see the man who made a terrible business and personal decision years ago when he decided to pursue The Winchesters without involving Jared. I also see the man whose decisions on the set that nearly cost a man his life.

I see the man.

Not the perfect Ken doll y’all are so insistent he is.

He’s flawed. A real human being.

And no, I don’t think he’s really friends with Misha because he’s never seen anywhere outside of cons with him. And given what a blabbermouth Misha is, we’d know in a heartbeat.

Hollywood is full of users, anon. Leeches. Hanger-ons. And fanatical fans.

No, you’re right, I don’t believe him when he says he loves Danneel—but when was the last time he’s said that? Not “she’s perfect for me” or “strong woman”. When was the last time he said he loved her?

You’re allowing your irritation with me to affect you, anon. I don’t know why you and the others are so insistent on arguing with me. What would be the purpose behind it?

To dissuade me? To persuade me otherwise? Why? I’m not here to change your mind. I merely share my opinions, much like I’m sure you do on your blog.

The only difference is, I’m not going to pro-Jensen blogs or pro-Misha blogs or anti-Jared blogs and harassing them.

That’s the difference between us. I’m expressing my opinions on my blog and am at peace with allowing others to think and feel as they like on their blogs.

I only speak up and act when there’s actual bullying or harassment or threats of violence to others—because we should absolutely care about that, regardless of who it is.

Here you are, mocking me, calling me stupid, coming up with horrific scenarios you seem to think I believe Jensen deserves (really?).

I see the world for what it really is, anon. I try to balance that with a little bit of hope and faith that maybe humanity isn’t entirely lost. That by speaking up about abuse, someone will be saved. By pointing out dangerous lies, someone will open their eyes.

What is your purpose here? To be bitter and angry that maybe, just maybe, your perfect image isn’t perfect after all?

Be better. Do better.

Accept that I have a different opinion. Block me, block my tags.

Go in peace. I hope you someday find some solace in this world.

[sadstrever]

i’m still 114lbs. i feel sick. yesterday was an awful day, i came home and had an out of body chew and spit session. i wish there was more research on this part of ed’s, or just more people who talked about it because i can’t be alone in this. i refuse to believe i’m the only sick person who does disgusting shit like this. anyways the reason why i call it an out of body experience is because it’s almost like binging-just without all the swallowing of food. i came home and immediately started doing it and filled up 1 and 1/2 2 liter bottles with food. i spent 5 hours doing this without even realizing and pretty much emptied out my whole families fridge. the guilt i felt afterwards was worse than a binge in my opinion. not only did i totally waste SO MUCH food, make a huge mess, ended up with disgusting bottles of mush in my room, i also have to face the consequences of my family coming home to an empty fridge. but when they got home they were happy that i “ate.” god i’m such a fucking piece of shit.

anyways after all that i took 4 laxatives to try and get the guilt of wasting the food out of me. i woke up in the morning today in terrible pain but still had to go to class, cuz what am i supposed to tell my parents? “yeah i haven’t eaten in almost a month and basically just threw all the food we have out in the trash and i also took 4 laxatives, can i please stay home tehe?” so i went to 1 class and ended up leaving because the pain was so excruciating. straight from class i went to the gym and somehow burnt 900 calories because i guess that’s what guilt does to me. i had to take the bus 2 hours home afterwards(bus delays and i went to a new further gym location this time), high out of my mind. i’m home now and my stomach hurts but the laxatives finally did their job. i don’t want to keep doing this. 4 years ago i said i’d recover and then i didn’t. since then i’ve forgotten about recovery (with the exception of a few random moments here and there that i block out immediately), i am so used to living in this fucking misery that i didn’t realize how abnormal my reality is. i don’t want to be a bad person anymore. but i can’t stop lol.

this is what bothers me about the girls who romanticize this disorder SO MUCH, when much of the time they haven’t realized how difficult it can become. i know i’ve done this, even now sometimes as a coping mechanism. but man, i’m sick of it.

i have a friend who writes poetry and she wrote a poem about eating disorders that make me so fucking angry. the thing is, i’ve known her for years and she’s always had the best relationship with food out of most of the people i know. she’s naturally pretty thin(not too thin but normal) and she’s very open about her struggles. i know every single one of her stories, i know she’s diagnosed with adhd. that’s HER disorder, that i don’t understand so i DONT write fucking POETRY about it. a few months ago she kind of forced me into opening up about my eating disorder. after i did, suddenly she started writing these stories about her eating disorder-very very very suspiciously similar to mine. i obviously didn’t tell her everything but i told her about how long this has been going on and just my emotions about it. seeing her start to adapt my fucking disorder into her poetry disgusted me. she glamorized the fuck out of it and made me feel so stupid for ever opening up about it. she’s naturally skinny so she got a bunch of support from our friend group from it and i’m just upset man. i’m sick of living in misery while other people can use the idea of living in pain for attention.

i promised my best friend that in 3 weeks i’ll go back to therapy and try my best to recover. it’s not true. man it’s never fucking true. it’s never fucking over. unlike ms.deep-poetry-girl i can’t just fucking write this and log off and then eat a good warm meal and talk to my parents without them mentioning my body. i can’t wake up tomorrow morning and hug them without worrying that they’re gonna feel my bones. i can’t wear shorts anymore without people noticing the bruises. i can’t go to school and keep my focus because i have nothing to feed my brain. i can’t let anyone get close because soon enough they’ll be just like YOU. OR they’ll hate me for not wanting to get better. i can’t love myself like you do because of the disgusting things i do each day. i can’t wake up thinner and suddenly stop hating myself. FUCK YOUUUUUUUU GOD IM SO SICK OF IT GOD. whatever im done. just sick and tired.

[pinkrelish]

The yes policy truly breaks my heart. I couldn’t imagine being under so much stress like Eddie was when adrie was small. I’m so glad he got it somewhat under control as he learned to take care of her and she turned out beautifully considering

He’s such a good dad and I’m glad someone has told him that finally

yeah, he went through hell and has a tough time not blaming himself for it. coming off being accused of murder and worse, he sank into a deep depression in the months leading up to the phone call where a girl he hooked up with once in a haze of hormones and weed changed his life forever. especially before the internet, the familial and communal aspect of raising a baby was integral to being successful. you relied on advice, support, and necessities through word of mouth and generosity, not to mention having a range of dependable babysitters. eddie didn't have any of that. he isolated himself from his few friends and lashed out at wayne because he was the only one still around. he was angry all the time. he was hurting all the time.

eddie's not faultless. he made a few mistakes along the way, sure. but because his parenthood didn't look like other people's parenthood, he never saw himself as measuring up. no books or magazines featured a single father whose hands trembled when scooping similac at three in the morning, lips clenched to hold back the emotion squeezing his throat shut because he had just finally fallen asleep when he was startled awake to a routine cry, heart jack-hammering in his chest. they didn't feature families where two grown men shared a living room, and one slept on the couch. they didn't feature precious toddlers trying to dry their daddy's tears.

though, all that to say, him calling himself a shit father is partly a defense mechanism, so if miss mouse or anyone else sees his imperfect, not-featured life, he has the leeway of warning them. "told ya." maybe he doesn't believe he's a total failure at his core. he knows he's done his best, and adrie is safe and happy as a result, and he learned healthier ways to cope and mitigate the exhaustion of his little girl smearing spaghetti on her face when she didn't know the fear of groceries running low. his mental and physical health paid the toll, but since miss mouse came to the garage as an unbiased stranger and reassured him about these insecurities unprompted, he believes in the positives a little more. especially since he admires her, and cares about her opinion. (although he would never admit that in the first, like, four or five chapters lol).

his character arc throughout this series is very dear to me, to show the ebb and flow of healing against tides of mental health and not handling it well, to shine light on lives that get less exposure. there are some beautiful moments in the final chapter of this series that demonstrate how far he's come, and i can't wait to show that, too.

[cloudybuck]

9-1-1 8x07 thoughts

not that anyone asked but he’s my rant about the episode because it’s been a few days and i get more and more upset the more i think about it.

i’ve seen a lot of people complain about how brad and matthew got too much screen time. i agree to an extent. i think we should be focused on eddie and chris as that’s the biggest storyline but i also think focusing on brad is important depending on what happens this week.

in season 5, we got a lot of screen time with jonah. why? because he was important! imagine if they didn’t set all of that up and it came out of nowhere— that’s shitty storytelling. they have to focus on brad right now if what’s coming has to do with him.

now matthew. . . *angry shakes* what? so you’re telling me you’re going to introduce a new character— a probie— have athena be completely against the idea/him, make him bad, and then have her change her mind and ask for one? why not just give her *that* guy? it feels like a complete waste of a character! i think it would’ve been so much more fun if we got to see him be all power hungry and then be taken down a notch and have athena take him under her wing rather than waste him like that! what was the pooooint? it felt like backtracking.

the lightning strike callback. i wasn’t expecting them to do anything with it considering all they did for the well was have bobby make a joke abt eddie not being able to fit this time. i wasn’t expecting anything so i don’t really care but at the same time, you have these callbacks and you’re not going to anything with them? literally one line from any of the 118 would’ve made a huge difference! you had the well, then the lightning strike, and the guy with the rebar stuck in his head! HELLO!!! give me anyyyything!

my pros; ryan talked about eddie being “childlike”- oh i can see it! him goofing off with buck and his phone (buck asking bobby for help like a little kid hehe), eddie jumping over the couch when buck says it’s time for lunch, eddie filming bobby and brad at the end. then we got that scene of athena and hen!!!! i’ve missed their talks so much UGHHH I WAS SO HAPPY!! buck being in a baking frenzy to cope with his heartbreak and maddie and chimney handing jee over to him— buck finding out about them being pregnant?! looooved that!!!! i loved how much bobby was such a dad in this episode like again, with buck and the phone, and then again with the waitress. i loved that we got to see the characters we didn’t get in episode 6 since that was so focused on buck and eddie with a little sprinkle of madney.

i’m not very good at saying i don’t like something when i’m a fan of it. i feel like i’d be called a fake fan or whatever but i’m trying to get better at it. i love 9-1-1. i love all the characters (i do have a favorite though) and i get so happy when i see them because ***UGHHH*** i loooove them! it makes me so sad when they’re not being used to their full potential and being cast aside when their stories are impoooortant! this episode was very meh to me.

i was talking to my mom about my disappointment and she said it’s because i went into it expecting too much. not at all! i wasn’t expecting anything from the episode but i also wasn’t expecting nothing.

[meetinginsamarra]

mayprompts2024, #32 determined

Chapters 1 to 8 here on AO3

If you like the tattoo AU give it some love on my AO3, please. It would mean a lot to me. TYSM!

The remaining chapters will be uploaded one every following day.

+++++

White Pony Tattoo - Part Twelve (determined)

Sherlock was completely stunned by John’s angry rant.

For once, witnessing the fierce side of John’s, the fearsome soldier, the way he was bristling with furious energy and righteous anger about Sherlock deriding and loathing himself was simply spectacular.

Also, because thinking about what John had actually said, Sherlock realized with growing surprise that firstly, he himself had never seen it this way and secondly, that John had made a brilliant deduction Sherlock had been so far uncapable of observing and thus, John was pretty damn smart, too.

Sherlock blinked rapidly, trying to compute the new point of view.

“I’ve never thought about it this way before.” Sherlock said in a small but not unhappy voice.

“Obviously.” John commented gruffly and sat down in the recliner chair again.

They were quiet for the next hour, the only sound to be heard was the whirring of the tattoo gun and Sherlock’s occasional instructions for John how to hold the arm.

It was a comfortable and contemplative silence as each of the two men pondered what had been said and what there was to be learned from it.

Sometime in the midst of the tattoo job, Sherlock began to speak.

“The tattooing helped a lot, with coping, I mean.”

Then the dam of keeping his past inside broke quickly and Sherlock told John everything. He had not been right out rejected by John after confessing his junkie past and the ongoing struggle of resististing to cure the itch. He hoped that John would still not reject him after confessing how stupid and gullible he had been.

“I’ve been studying chemistry at uni and apart from the equations and chemical reactions and experiments everything else bored me. I had no other hobbies and I especially had no friends. All of my peers thought I’m was weirdo and an asshole and shunned me for very good reasons because I was both.

I always wanted to be perfect, to fit in. Just be normal. But I am not a likeable person, I’m abrasive and obnoxious and I see things that people want to hide and I hurl these into their faces so that they’ll leave me alone.

One day I met Darren on campus, a drug dealer looking for new clients and he introduced me to cocaine.

It was heaven, John.

The cocaine softened all of this. I could concentrate better. I was happy, really truely happy with myself and my life for the first time since I was a teenager.

Shortly after, I fell in love with my now regular supplier and he became my first boyfriend. Darren might even have really loved me but that didn’t stop him from taking advantage of me.

He soon talked me into using my proficient chemistry skills for synthesising Ecstasy and I didn’t think a lot about it because he gave me free cocaine that I had quickly become addicted to.

I’ve been on a continuous high for over one year and have been able to hide it very well from everybody. In fact, my peers had become more friendly and open with me now that I apparently acted like what was generally perceived as “normal”. Which only confirmed my belief that without the drug I’d never be able to function adequately.

I had developed a severe drug addiction in the meantime. I was injecting cocaine several times a day and the veins in my left arm were utterly ruined.

The first time I tried to shoot up with my left hand using the good veins on my right arm I accidentally overdosed. It happened to be right here in the shop. Back then, the locality had still been a café. Mrs Hudson had run it, serving coffee and the best home-made bakeries. She found me unconscious on the toilet floor, barely breathing. She called the ambulance and I died on the way to the hospital due to cardiac arrest but they could reanimate me just in time.”

Sherlock was grateful that all the while he talked John merely listened without any judgemental comments. Being allowed to finally let go of at least some of the hurt was a huge relief.

“While I was in rehab, I made the acquaintance of another recovering addict who was a very skilful tattoo artist. When we were both clean, I asked her to put the white pony I had designed onto my back. Her art of painting with ink on skin intrigued me and she taught me all there was to know.”

“And now you are here.” John stated.

“And now I am here.” Sherlock confirmed. “And I’ll do everything to keep being here.”

“Including to keep everybody from eventually becoming part of your life?” John asked quietly. It sounded a bit defeated.

Sherlock sighed. “So far, yes.” He looked at John. “But that might change.”

“I’d be very happy if it would.” John gathered his courage. “If you would let me into your life.”

They watched each other silently for a minute, examining their feelings and what might be found in the depths of each others eyes. The seconds stretched out, trickling by agonizingly slow.

“I’ll make you a deal.” Sherlock said, fiddling with the tattoo gun. “We’ll finish your tattoo now. You will let it heal thoroughly for two weeks and I will think thoroughly about all that’s been said today. We both have to be sure.”

“That’s okay with me.”

“And then, we will go out on a date and have dinner, if you’re still interested in getting to know me by then.”

John had already opened his mouth to strongly object that he could ever lose interest in Sherlock but was shut off by Sherlock’s gesture to keep mum.

Sherlock smiled softly and pointed to his shop sign. “No arguing, John.”

“Okay, fine, good.” John nodded and swallowed. Somehow, a tiny tear of joy at the prospect to have a chance formed in his eye.

Sherlock smiled some more. “Also, no crying, John.”

++++++

Two weeks later, John arrived exactly on time at “Angelo’s Italian Restaurant” to have dinner with Sherlock.

This time, John did not hover in front of the door, he did not hesitate, or oscillate around on the pavement.

This time, John knew what he wanted and what he needed to do. Determined, he opened the door, entered and saw that Sherlock was waiting for him at a candle-decorated table for two.

+++++

(and they tattooed happily ever after)

Thank you all for reading, liking and commenting. It's been great to write this!

tagging some people @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @lisbeth-kk @raina-at @peageetibbs

[moriartyluver]

HEY HEY HEY!!

i absolutely loved your beauty is terror boo on Wattpad and when I found out I did tumble, I rushed over here to find you.

anyways can we please have general dating hcs for Dazai?? Thank you sm in advance please marry me

A/N: thank you for your request nonnie! Took me a while to do this so I’m sorry

Character(s) :Dazai Osamu x reader

Format: headcannons

Genre: fluff

Prompt: general dating hcs

Warnings: general Dazai behaviour. Might be OOC

• Dazai Osamu was a strange man. Nobody knew what was going on inside that strange head of his. Not even his family or friends.

•I'd imagine you would meet him while attempting to commit suicide, hopefully trying to stop him. He's definitely like you since you had met.

•I think if he truly liked someone romantically, he's definitely be a bit shy about it and although he'd rather be more than friends, he's happy to be there for you.

•once you realised you liked him, you'd probably start realising that he didn't treat you the same way he did other people.

•Dazai would be scared of getting too attached to you. He knows that one day, everyone will leave. Nobody stays forever and he'd rather not witness you leaving him.

•he's already lost odasaku, I think he'd be really upset about possibly losing you too.

•he'd be desperate to impress you though. As soon as you'd walk into the agency's office, hems stop clowning around and show off his deep and amazing concentration skills.

•he'd also magically have money for food whenever you would be hungry with him.

•(he defo stole it from kunikida though.)

•He'd probably have planned out a very nice confession. If you're into mind games, he'd definitely have you go on a scavenger hunt of some sort but that's just what he had planned

•i think that he wouldn't actually do a fancy confession in the moment.

•ANGRYYY CONFESSIOONNNNSSS

•I love angry confessions.

•He'd definitely get upset about you doing something and there would be a small argument between the two of you and then you'd pull the "why do you even care?" Card.

•he'd be a bit surprised you had said that, seeing as you had a pretty good friendship. He'd say exactly that.

“-But you're willing to betray your friends. Why cant you just let me do this one thing-"

"-Because I love you!"

•(squealing)

•he'd go on a rant about how much he wants you with him but he's scared about what could happen to you.

•as much as he is smart, he doesn't expect you to feel the same.

•so when you meet his lips with yours, naturally he's very surprised.

•as for actual dating headcannons-

•wouldn't really flirt with anyone after you got with him. Actually, when he realised he liked you, you noticed that he had slowly stopped flirting with random women and asking for them to join him in a double suicide.

•the Ada isn't surprised. Everyone knew dazai liked you and they were relieved that you finally knew too.

•if you're a calm and responsible person, everyone's glad that dazai has you to keep him in check. I think he'd be more into that kind of person to be honest.

•they'd probably be a bit like "him?! Fr?!" Especially kunikida. Every time dazai does something stupid, kunikida goes to you and is like "how tf do you cope with that man? You need him on a leash"

• if you're a bit more extroverted and chaotic, Dazai wouldn't mind at all. He liked having someone with more energy than him. No matter how you're like, he will love you no matter what. The ADA and everyone else thinks you're a match made in hell.

•I feel like dazai wouldn't move in straight away but he'd have this thing where he'd use every excuse in the book to go to your place and cuddle with you before you fall asleep in his arms, before the two of you eventually decide to move in together.

•and it was unexpectedly expected.

•this man is a HOG. He is the worst roommate eveerrr.

•you'd be tidying up after him so often omg.

•living with him is fun though because he's quite a playful partner to be honest.

•teenage girl type of slumber parties, pillow forts, tickle fights. You name it, he'll do it.

•if you ever share a bed, he'll stretch out so much while you sleep that you tumble out of bed and wake up to hitting the cold ground.

•yet somehow, when you wake up, it's impossible to pull yourself away from his grasp.

•DATE IDEAS

• library dates. Definitely.

•imagine shopping at a supermarket with dazai. It'd honestly be so fun.

•coffee dates.

•he'd sometimes just be like "yo you wanna go out?" And you and him would just walk around Yokohama, exploring for a few hours straight.

•icecream dates. He definitely is a massive icecream fan.

• He's very affectionate in both private and public. The former is a lot more intimate and vulnerable though.

•sometimes dazai would just plop himself down onto your lap while you try working in the office.

•kunikida has tried to pry him away from you multiple times so you don't keep getting distracted by the brunette who would be hugging onto you like a koala and just mumbling on about his day while hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

•he also will hug you when he sees you, no matter where. That's just how he greets you. Also would give you gentlemanly hand kisses and kiss your forehead.

•if he ever gets jealous, he'll probably hug you by the waist and glare at the man or woman who seemed to be looking a bit too long and hard at you.

•he liked kissing you at the most random times just to see your adorable surprised expressions.

•in private, he is alot more affectionate. People like to say he'd be really handsy public and although I don't think he'd be shy to show how much he loves you, he's a gentleman who wouldnt just make out with you in the office of the detective agency in front of everyone

•as I was saying, in private hes a lot more vulnerable when he shows his affection. Whether it's hugging you from behind while you make breakfast or letting you kiss his scars underneath his bandages.

•he loves you alot and if anything ever happened to you, he'd be so mad. He'd get thorough revenge and everything.

•please give this man the love he deserves.  Idc what he does I love him