#It's terrible. I know. I am ashamed of it too

[thyandrawrites]

Do you ever read a characterization that just... aces a pov so well it makes you laugh very hard

Peak rin energy is using a cancer metaphor of all things to describe his relationship with his crushes. No exaggerations, this is canon rin to a t

[natugood]

One thing which has helped me better conceptualize self love and self care is thinking of completing necessary tasks/chores as giving my future self a hug.

Like today, I feel like trash. I barely had the energy to get out of bed. But on Monday this week I had a lot more energy that I wanted to channel productively, so I made a bunch of food and essentially meal prepped for the rest of the week. I could have spent that time reading or playing video games, but I had the energy to do things I knew I needed to do and would continue to need to do, so I did chores instead. Thanks to my actions on Monday, I don’t have to worry about what I’m going to eat today. I can just go to the fridge and grab pre-made breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks, and I can focus on resting and working to feel better.

On Monday I chose not to relax to give my future self a hug. And today, my future self received that hug from past me. I don’t have to do chores today because past me said “don’t worry future me, I love you, I can handle this.” And future me is saying the same thing to present me. Chores which I should do today (like laundry) can wait because past me did them and future me can do them, and future me also knows I needed rest, so future me is saying “hey past me, focus on resting and feeling better. Because you took care of yourself, I’ve got the energy to help you out!”

If I try to force myself to do more than I am capable of today, it makes it harder for future me to do the things they need to do, and just like past me, I know future me is trying their best and has my best interests at heart. The best thing I can do for future me is to rest and take care of myself so they can do what they need to do to take care of me, and they can take care of even more future me’s who also need time to rest and recover.

Sometimes it’s hard for me to stop working and rest because I just want to keep giving my future self hugs, because I worry that if I rest, I’ll make things harder for future me. But if future me doesn’t have the energy to do what they need to do, then they can’t help themselves or future versions of themself either. If future me has no energy, then not only will they not have the energy to function or do chores, but they also won’t have the energy to have fun and share their love with others.

It’s ok to take time to rest and relax. You’re helping your future self out by giving them the energy they need to succeed, and you’re accepting help from past you, who took the time and energy to make sure you could rest and relax when you need. Both resting and doing things you need to do are a way to say “I love you” to past, present, and future versions of yourself. Taking care of yourself is loving yourself.

And if you are doing your best but are still struggling, and you need more rest than it takes to be able to take care of yourself? That’s ok too! Then you know it’s time to ask for help. Asking for help is another way to give your future self a hug, and receiving help is receiving a hug from your past self. Taking the time to rest is important, and people you love know that. If they can help you, then the sooner you can feel better and share your love with them! Your past self shared their love with another person, and that person can now share their love with you by helping you and by helping you help yourself!

[munsonfamilyband]

I am a HoH Steve truther and I also firmly believe that he had to he dragged to get checked out the first time (Eddie said it was a date and he drove them to the ear doctor where Robin was waiting). He hates that he has to wear a hearing aid, but he’s glad it’s only on the one ear. Still, he hates it, it’s an ugly off white color and it looks terrible with his hair. He hates that people can see that something in him is broken. Logically he knows that he shouldn’t be ashamed of the hearing aid, Robin has told him that enough times, but he still feels awful whenever he sees it in the mirror.

He would regularly “leave it behind” when he went to visit the kids and he would go a couple days without it before the kids found it and gave it back, or Eddie and/or Robin realized he wasn’t wearing it and made him go get it.

That is, until the last time he left it behind at the Hopper-Byers house. He doesn’t see the Wonder Twins for a couple days after that, until they come rolling into the parking lot of Family Video on their bikes. Steve clocks them as weird immediately because it’s just Will and El, no one else. When they come in, Will looks nervous but El walks right up to the counter and grabs one of his hands, dropping something in it. It takes a second for him to recognize it, but he realizes that she’s returning his hearing aid. Only, it isn’t that awful cream color anymore, it’s been covered in colors and little flowers. Turning it over he sees a small crown with a baseball bat filled with nails going through it. Will, avoiding eye contact, tells him that it was El’s idea to paint it and so they came up with what to cover it in - they even called Eddie to get his favorite color (which explains the amount of yellow on the plastic). He also reassures him that they had Joyce help so that they wouldn’t get paint or marker in anything important.

Steve never takes it off after that, and every time he sees it in his reflection it makes him smile. (Years later when he has to replace it, he cries and calls Will to see if he can paint the new one too)

[priniya]

🔮 OPPOSITES ATTRACT

synopsis. a quiet slytherin and a loud gryffindor find themselves on a chilly evening, which results in something unexpected — at least for people around them. the oldest weasley’s daughter finds herself infatuated with nott’s only child and vice versa, even if their worlds seem so different, being apart just doesn’t feel right.

notes. theodore nott x weasley!reader. slightly sunshine x grumpy (pretend you’re a ginger if ur not). part 2 containing the date, thoughts?

theodore nott never thought he would be given a chance to love and be loved, upon all the terrible mistakes he has made. and maybe it seemed silly for a sixteen years old to say, but with an upcoming war, he wasn’t so sure if he could live through it.

theodore nott never thought he would have someone to call his own, someone to help him, when times get tough or someone who would understand him wordlessly. to be fair, theodore nott never thought he deserved anything like that, so the surprise on his face, when he found someone who was involuntarily willing to be his person was enormous.

he was walking around the crowded streets of the city, the dim lighting allowing him to see muggles running around with different expression on every other face he has passed — some of them were happy, cheering the slowly creeping holiday on them, some of them were exhausted and/or angry, probably from trying to find a perfect gift for someone and failing. just watching them gave him some sort of comfort, he had never had to look for gifts too much, his father wasn’t keen on being all festive and christmas was just any other day. the exception itself was looking for presents for his friends, which never had troubled him so much he looked exhausted.

he was in his thoughts, when he felt like he collided with someone. his eyebrows were squinted as he looked down on the red-haired girl, whose face was all red, either from cold or embarrassment. though, there was something so familiar about the girl that made him study her face for a brief second, the tea stain on his unzipped jacket didn’t seem to bother him at all, not as much as the familiarity of the girl.

“oh my god, i am so sorry, sir.” she let out ashamed that she didn’t look where she was going and that she probably ruined someone’s evening with her no sugar, lemon tea. it was then, when the familiar girl finally gave up and looked at the person she rudely bumped into.

“nott?” her words weren’t coated with layers of disgust and regret that out of all the people in london that night, she bumped into theodore nott. her words had surprised and confused undertones, almost as if she didn’t mind seeing him there. now, he obviously recognized his attacker — y/n weasley, a girl he sits behind in history of magic, a twin sister of potter’s best friend, someone who should hate him with burning passion.

“are you alright?” redhead’s question took him off guard.

theo was expecting something else, like a mockery of the fact that he was walking amongst muggles without hexing them all. though to be honest, theodore never hated muggles, well, yeah, he said some stupid shit, when he was younger and he was far from proud, but it was the need to appease his father. he definitely didn’t expect to see the worried manner in her, her brows scrunched as she tried to read his emotions, while standing in front of him in silence.

“theo…?” repeated y/n. he wasn’t alright and he didn’t know if he should show it. for merlin’s sake, he really wanted to get so much things out of his system, but venting to a weasley? he knew better than that — she would probably go around, and spread out the word about everything she heard from him.

nott was about to mumble something in response, when her eyes flickered with concern, demolishing all his justification why shouldn’t he talk to her for longer than needed. she was genuine, not caring that ron and harry weren’t on a good terms with him, she wanted to know, and help if possible.

so, theo simply gave up the act. “uh, no. not really.” he confessed, confirming all the suspicions she got to gather from observing him for a few minutes, when he thought of an answer. her expression changed from concerned to slightly sad, even.

before the boy could realize, he was sat in one of the small coffee shops beside her, a half empty, steamy cup of hot chocolate in his hands as they talked. something was so incredibly off about the way they conversed, first time in a while, he never wanted to conversation to end, just like when he was talking to his friends. his body itched at the thought that soon both of them would have to come to their respective houses and the talk would be just a memory that never happened again.

he had to admit that y/n’s presence was soothing. it was like the smell of a freshly printed new book, a cigarette on a foggy morning, a sensation of someone’s nails gently scratching the inside of his palm. the last one was a habit his mom developed to calm him down before she died, leaving him with an aching need for someone to find out about his perk and do it when he needs.

her muffled laughter filled his ears as he watched the girl cover her lips with a palm, he couldn’t help but smile. the gloomy atmosphere that he brought with his tiny vent was long gone, since she declared it her mission to make him feel better. so, since he wasn’t a big talker himself, she let him listen to all the stories from when she was growing up. even though he never experienced a family like hers, a family that cared for each other, it was comforting.

his eyes darted to the clock hung up on a wall, followed by hers and a long sigh that left his lips. his fingers ran through his curls as he parted his lips to bid goodbyes, though y/n was faster. “we could meet up here some other time, if you want.” she gave him a shy smile, the one he never thought he would see on her face.

y/n weasley wasn’t the shy type of girl, she was a big talker, a smart-ass with witty comebacks and a obnoxiously loud aura coating her small frame, though right now, upon his gaze that wandered around her face for quite some time now, she grew shyer.

“uh.” stuttered theo. “yeah, i guess it’s a good idea.” his reply made her smile go bigger, and in the back of his head, it felt like a reward for the decision he just made, some kind of reassurance that he did something good.

“perfect.” she grinned, taking the two of their cups and taking them to the shop’s kitchen, revealing that either she works there, or she’s just insanely crazy for barging into someone’s workplace as an unwanted stranger. “there’s a fireplace in the back.” weasley added, taking his hand in hers before he could even refuse (he wouldn’t though).

the tips of her long nails gently grazed his palm, when she led him the back, greeting a few of her coworkers. her touch on his skin ached, almost burnt, although if that’s what the insides of a normal, fireplace without floo powder felt like, he could grow to like it, only if a part of her body was pressed against his. few minutes later theo’s hand felt empty as he watched her disappear in green flames, having bid their goodbyes.

***

theo hated that feeling. this warm, strange feeling that coated his heart whenever he thought about the obnoxious gryffindor, who he met at those muggle streets. nevertheless, he found himself unable to think about someone else. he was replying to a letter pansy has sent him, and the only thing he had on his mind was y/n, he wondered if ginny told her about her little getaways with theo’s best friend, if all her brothers got back to their house, and — if she thought about him.

his hands throbbed. his fingers wrapped tightly around the quill, before putting it down on his deck. why on earth would he text her? it was one accidental meeting at some crowded street, one conversation that shouldn’t mean anything to them.

nott squeezed his eyes, the muscles on his face tensed as he focused on the paper in front of him, scribbling down a few words in his neat handwriting. a long sigh has left his lips, his eyes tracing the sentence he wrote for her. shit, why would he even do that? if any of his friends knew, he’d have been doomed — one weasley hanging around their friend group was enough, but he didn’t want to push draco nor blaise’s limits.

on a christmas’ eve, he went out for another walk, slightly hoping in the back of his mind that he’d accidentally bump into her again. this time, theodore would make sure to hear her laugh more often, to see her teeth, when she smiles or to watch as she gets shyer upon his gaze on her face.

his feet got him into a familiar looking café, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion — he couldn’t pinpoint from where he knew the place — and looked around. then, he heard it.

“theo!” a female voice rang in his ears. the boy turned his face, a smile slipping onto his lips as he realized where he was. the god damned café y/n was working at. “what can i get you?” a grin spread across her face, visibly delighted to see him there, almost as if she hoped for it.

her forearms laid on the counter as her body leaned a little closer, her hair pinned up in a ponytail that probably got ruined during her shift from running around the place, having a chat with each customer every now and then, a pinkish tint on her cheeks, maybe from the heat in the back or maybe, because he was there.

it took him a second to realize that he was staring with his mouth slightly parted. “uh—” he stuttered, getting a small, barely audiable giggle in response. “i just came to see you.” he blurted out. thank god his ears were covered by the beanie, because just by saying those six words got him all flustered.

“theo.” his name sounded so well coming from her. theodore wanted to hear it again, again, and again. it was melodic, like most beautiful song he’s ever heared. how could he get so whipped after one hangout?

“i hoped you’d come by.” she confessed shyly. “i have something for you in the back, could you give me five minutes? i gotta tell the manager i’m taking a break.” she beamed at him sweetly, rushing off to the back, taking off the green apron that hung on her waist in the meantime.

when she came back, she was still wearing the café’s shirt with a small, green logo, black jeans, and was carefully walking towards his table with a neatly wrapped package and on a top of that a plate with a big piece of some sort of chocolate cake, two drinks (the same as last time), and a cookie. her hair wasn’t in a ponytail anymore, ginger strands falling into her shoulders as she gave him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.

“you– you got me something?” a question left theo’s mouth, leaving him all surprised — the strange feeling warming him up from the inside. he took a big sip of the hot chocolate in front of him, hardly minding that he burnt his tongue, he didn’t want to say anything stupid. “y/n, we talked once and you… got me something?” he asked once again, not believing his own eyes.

the girl just smiled wider, passing the box towards him. “uh. yeah.” she answered, shrugging. “last time, you said that you never really celebrated christmas the right way, so… please open it.” she tried explaing herself, but gave up at the end, pushing the box further with her fingertips. “please?”

shit.

if she didn’t ask, if she didn’t give him those eyes and that smile. maybe he would be able to refuse, think of some lame excuse that wouldn’t hurt her feelings and give her the box back. but y/n was so sweet, and thought of him hard enough to prepare him a gift.

for half a second, theodore could see something flicker in her eyes, when his lean fingers gently pulled the green ribbon, ripping the gift paper afterwards. the gift turned out to be a sweater, a hand-made one that made the feeling come back to him.

the sweater was dark green, in the similar shade of his tie or the snake symbol on his robes, it had a large, dark blue letter T with a silver outline. his eyes scanned the piece of clothing, the corner of his lips going slightly upwards. “you got me your mom’s iconic sweater?” asked theo.

his mind was filled with different thoughts and emotions right now. he could never call y/n weasley a sweet girl, not because it wasn’t true, but because it would be an understatement — she was the sweetest, or at least somewhere in that range. his cheeks almost hurt from smiling at her, and never in his life nott had felt it.

“actually…” her cheeks started getting a little more pinkish than usual. “it’s based on my mom’s sweaters, i did it on my own. it might not be perfect—" y/n started rambling in nervousness, afraid that the boy won’t be happy about getting a meaningless piece of fabric from her.

“y/n, i love it.” theodore’s words were like honey to y/n’s ears, she gave him a small smile, not really expecting him to gently grab her hand out of sudden. the reason behind it? even theo didn’t know (probably to ease her nerves).

when he realized what he did, he wanted to take his hand back and mutter a quiet apology, the crime scene awkward as much as only possible. although, from the corner of his eye, he noticed that the pink on her face intensified, few more minutes of skin-to-skin contact, and she would turn into a tomato, so his hand stayed on hers, taking the chance and intertwining their fingers together.

“would you– uh,” the redhead started, stumbling over her own words, easily losing focus, each time his thumb stroked her hand, a tiny smirk hovering over his lips. “like to, uh, come here once in a while, you know… until the break’s over? keep me company, maybe?”

and he did. how couldn’t he? this girl was constantly on his mind ever since she bumped into him on the streets and spent literal hours at the café.

although, beside just keeping her company during the winter break — but also at school. he grew so fond of her (and believe me, it worked both ways) that cutting their fresh friendship short was something he couldn’t let happen. so… even though her younger sister was already swaying her way into theodore’s friend group, y/n seemed like a different topic.

theodore nott liked sharing. as unbelievable as it sounds, he really did. whenever he had something he enjoyed, he was willing to share, he was the type of person to give away his last cigarette to one of his friends, but the thought of sharing y/n weasley never crossed his mind. he wanted her all to himself, so… their hangouts always contained just the two of them.

small study dates in the library, late night walks around the courtyard, meet-ups in the room of requirement, picnics in the astronomy tower, while smoking some pot and cigarettes together.

back then, it felt strictly platonic. even if they called it their little dates, nott had a feeling they weren’t moving past the friendship line, while his emotions towards the girl were getting more and more serious. nevertheless, theodore was confident, but not confident enough to ask her out — to confess his silly crush without the fear creeping up on him that y/n would reject him and turn his dreams into nightmares.

***

the weather outside was getting better with each day until spending time inside the castle was unbearable. it was around the time, theo decided to finally push his luck and ask the girl of his dream out. ever since he woke up, he was nervously fidgeting with everything that got to his hands and when then classes were to start, it only got worse.

“you alright, theo?” a whisper left y/n’s mouth as she stood next to him in potions, her elbow nudging him lightly, trying to catch his attention.

merlin. the way his name sounded so wonderful on her tongue. if it wasn’t for the small attention-grabber, he would definitely accidentally ignore the question to daydream about how sweetly her voice is.

“no, i mean– yes, yes i am.” he stuttered. “i just– can i ask you a question?” she nodded, making his stomach turn around. “would you, uh– like to go out to hogsmeade with me? like on a date?” the question left his lips.

his throat went dry as he waited years for an answer (which was actually just about two seconds, theo’s brain just got really dramatic from stress), legs giving up, so he had to lean his palms on the table.

“f’course.” weasley grinned, not minding the blush that spread all over her face, just from the ask. “i thought you’d never ask, really.” she giggled, turning her eyes away for a second, before flashing him another beam of hers.

nott’s face was now bright pink. “i– what?” he was struggling to form a logical sentence. “you wanted me to–?” the boy was supposed to finish his thought, though it didn’t really sit well with snape who interrupted their little talk, postponing it until the evening.

the two of them were walking somewhere outside, laughing about something so insignificant, when the situation from classes popped into his mind. “so… about that date. you really want to?” asked nott.

he expected any kind of answer — yes, no, maybe, you should guess, nah — whatever was only possible. however, the feeling of her lips on his wouldn’t cross his mind. she kissed him. y/n has kissed him, leaving him breathless, when she pulled away.

“does that answer your question?” redhead chuckled, her fingers still curled up against the collar of his white shirt. he shook his head, still mind-blown. “yes, theodore faustus nott, i was dying to hear you ask me out on a date. whatever we have between us, i wanted it to move forward and go on a date with you.”

she laughed. “you really think i’d spend hours crotcheting a sweater for a guy i met few days earlier if i didn’t feel something? theo, i almost passed out when you touched my hand months ago.” another laugh left her lips that were now so close to his, clouding his mind with one certain thing.

upon hearing all those words, the boy couldn’t stop himself anymore, he pressed his mouth against hers, savouring the moment. cherishing the fact that she wanted him like he wanted her.

“the date is still a thing, yeah?” y/n smiled as her nose brushed his.

“you’re gonna love it.” he answered, grinning.

[penny00dreadful]

Before He Cheats

AO3

“Munson Home for the Recently Deceased, you stab ‘em we slab ‘em. How may I direct your call?”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds before a light chuckle crackled through the speaker.

“Is that really how you answer the phone?”

Eddie smiled to himself. “Got you to laugh didn’t it?”

“Suppose.”

“Plus, no one calls the landline anymore unless they’re trying to sell something. You trying to sell me something?”

“No. No, I uh… I’m looking for an Eddie Munson?”

“Only an Eddie Munson? Only one? What a terrible fate. Well you’re in luck, my good sir. This is he. What can I do you for?”

The voice on the end of the line gave a light laugh once again but went silent almost immediately after. 

Eddie stared at the wall in his apartment, waiting for something to happen. In the quiet he could hear the guy letting out little nervous breaths before one big inhale.

“I um. I’m sorry to have to tell you like this, I’d prefer to do it face to face but I don’t know where you live and you probably wouldn’t even want me at your house afterwards and I did find you on social media but it’s not something I wanted to do in DM’s, you deserve better than that-”

“Okay, hold on, slow down.” Eddie tried to ignore the panic starting to kick around in his heart. “Is someone dead? Is someone injured?”

“No! No, Jesus, I’m sorry. I told Robin that I’d be terrible at this but I couldn’t just let it go on without saying anything-”

“You haven’t really said anything. You’re just rambling.”

“Right. Sorry. Again, blame Robin. I’m around her too much. But… okay. Do you know Rick Lipton?”

Eddie felt the panic leave him, replaced only by irritation as he sighed through his nose. “What did he do now?”

“He… um. I’m sorry to ask this but are you his partner? Like, romantic partner?”

Eddie scowled. “And if I am?”

There was movement against the line, almost as if the other guy was nodding. 

“Shit.” He muttered before picking back up in volume again. “Listen, I didn’t know. He told me he was single and I only found out because Robin lives in the same building as you and she saw him with you and asked the neighbours and they said you’d been a thing for like two years and you have to believe me if I’d known I wouldn’t have touched him, I don’t fuck around with cheaters-”

“How long?”

Eddie had expected to feel betrayal or sadness, devastation or heartbreak and they were there. 

They were just lost under a tidal wave of anger and indignation. He was even surprised at himself that he didn’t feel more caught off guard. 

Rick had never cheated before (that Eddie was aware of) but he had always had a wandering eye and a few off-colour jokes about 'going to find someone more his speed’. 

They’d never really felt all that funny.

Maybe it was because their relationship had felt dead for the last few months. 

They barely talked, they just existed around each other. The sex had all but dried up as well and whenever they did have it, it was completely impersonal. Get in, get out, move back to separate parts of the apartment if either of them even bothered to stay over. 

More often than not one of them would make a quick exit back to their home.

Eddie had been thinking a breakup was on the horizon for a while. 

But that was no excuse to cheat. 

At least have the fucking decency to end the relationship first before going out and chasing tail. 

“Um, like four or five weeks." The guy on the phone muttered, clearly ashamed. "I’m so sorry Eddie, I swear to god if I knew I would never… I have- I have proof if you need it.”

“If it’s a sex tape I don’t think I want to see it.” Eddie was trying really hard to maintain his calm and not snap through the phone. 

If what the guy was saying was true, then he was an innocent party in this.

Didn’t make it hurt any fucking less though.

Didn’t make him any less pissed.

“If- no it’s not a sex tape.” The voice sounded scandalised. “Fucking hell, do people actually do that?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause, as though the guy was waiting for Eddie to continue but Eddie just let it hang in the air. He wasn’t ashamed. 

But he was definitely going to have to purge those files now.

“Okay well… It's just a photo. I posted it to my insta a week ago but he was really weird about it being up, which in hindsight makes a lot of sense, so I took it down.” He said, quiet and sad. “I can send it to you if you want.”

Eddie pursed his lips. 

“Please hold.”

He unceremoniously dropped the phone with a clatter, leaving it dangling from the cord, bouncing against the wall and probably blowing the guy’s ear out. 

Maybe in the morning Eddie would feel a little bad about that, but for now it just felt very satisfying. 

He rifled around in his bedsheets for his phone before making his way back to the landline. 

“Still there?”

“Yes. Ow, by the way.”

Eddie just shrugged, well aware the guy couldn’t see him but whatever. He wasn’t in the mood. 

“Send it on.”

Only a moment later his phone pinged with a notification and Eddie opened the photo.

Well. 

Shit. 

There was Rick, in amongst a crowd at some nightclub, plastered to the side of some pretty boy who looked like he had a regular workout routine. 

Ugh.

Eddie couldn’t handle gym bunnies, the amount they could bench or whatever was all they ever talked about. But this must be the guy on the other end of the phone. 

@King.Steve.Of.House.Hair

Rick had King Steve’s earlobe in between his teeth and from the angle of the selfie Eddie could see his hands were wandering.

It looked like some kind of Halloween night, if the teeny tiny little sailor outfit was anything to go by.

God damn.

But even so, Eddie still wanted to be sure that what he was seeing was… well. What he was seeing. 

“Steve, is it?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry, I didn’t realise I hadn’t given you my name yet.” Steve let out a nervous laugh, like he was expecting Eddie to jump through the phone and strangle him.

Eddie was fit to strangle someone but Steve wasn’t in his crosshairs.

“Don’t worry about it. Tell me, what does Rick have tattooed on his ass?”

“Uh…” Steve paused. “He doesn’t have a tattoo on his ass? Not that I’ve seen anyway. But I can tell you he does have his taint pierced. For some fucking reason.”

Eddie gave a quiet laugh at that, despite the monumentally fucked up situation and the final cracking piece of his heart breaking away. Rick had that piercing by the time Eddie had met him. He insisted he’d gotten it because it was sexy. Eddie was pretty sure he’d just lost a bet.

Eddie was no stranger to intimate piercings himself. He had his frenum done a while back. 

That one he’d definitely done because it felt sexy.

He looked back down at his phone, idly flipping through Steve’s profile and all of his other photos. 

He probably shouldn’t be thinking about how hot Steve was, how it was juxtaposed with a soft cuteness that almost felt like it didn’t belong to someone with such broad shoulders and defined arms. 

He hated himself for thinking about Steve’s attractiveness. 

It felt wrong.

Even though he was pretty much single now.

Even if Rick didn’t know it yet. 

But fuck him. 

He’d find out.

One way or the other.

And Eddie was nothing if not a drama queen.

But he wouldn’t do anything tonight.

No tonight he would just… hurt.

And smoke.

A lot.

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice came through to him. “You okay?”

Eddie swallowed, finding it a little more difficult than he expected it to be and realised he’d just been staring down at his phone in silence. 

The screen had gone black.

“Yeah.” He answered, his voice thick. “I’m fine.”

Steve hummed. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Eddie laughed. It was wet and sniffly and vulnerable and horrible. “What are you gonna do from over the phone far away… wherever you are?”

“I dunno. I could just… talk to you I guess? Help you plot Rick's murder?”

Eddie laughed again, a little brighter this time. "Yeah, that could be good. But if I'm plotting murder I want to be a little more comfortable." He unlocked his phone and hit the follow button on Steve’s account. “This conversation requires lounging, not standing by the landline.”

“Oh-”

“How do you feel about a video call?”

A notification popped up on his phone, letting him know Steve had followed him back.

“A video call is fine.”

“Great.” Eddie paused. He wasn’t even sure how to end this call with the guy his boyfriend of two years had been cheating on him with and who he’d just asked if he wanted to video call so Eddie could smoke his feelings away. 

He just didn’t want to feel alone right now. 

He could have called Chrissy or one of the boys to come hang out with him but that would require explaining everything over again and he really didn’t want to do that right now. 

Before he could think much more on it Eddie said a quick “Okay bye,” and hung up.

Steve knew the story and Steve had been wronged too and maybe they could just be mad and sad together. 

He unlocked his phone again as he walked back into his bedroom and hit the video call button, not even bothering to turn his light on, leaving himself and his room shrouded in darkness. He propped his phone up on his desk, angled towards the window where he sat on the sil and started to roll, using the streetlights streaming in the window to see.

Steve picked up only a moment later and Eddie got his first good look at the guy live in action and not through a photo online.

He was sitting at what looked like a kitchen table fully lit by the overhead lights, a pair of wire framed glasses perched on his nose and his hair messy and dishevelled, like he’d been stressfully running his hands through it, which he probably had been. 

Eddie didn’t know how stressed he would be if he had to make a call to someone to tell them their long term partner had been cheating.

He was leaning forward, elbows on the table in a cosy yellow sweater with a slight worry between his eyebrows. 

He looked so soft. 

Nothing at all like the nautical sea queen look he’d been giving in those photos. He looked comfortable and gentle and a little worried.

“Eddie?”

“Mm-hm?” He hummed, bringing the joint to his mouth and lighting it up before pushing open the window a little more and exhaling out into the dark rainfall outside.

“You okay?”

He shrugged. “I will be.”

“I’m not asking about whether you will be, I‘m asking about now.”

Eddie looked over and watched Steve as Steve watched him through the screen.

“Alright, then no. I’m not okay.” He took another drag. “I’m fucking pissed. I’m sad, I’m upset, I’m hurt, I’m angry, I’m disappointed and I don’t know if all of that is directed more at him for doing this to me or me for not expecting it.”

“How were you supposed to expect it?” Steve shook his head in disbelief. “No one should have to expect to be cheated on.”

“Dunno.” Eddie shrugged, looking back out the window. “Relationship was dying anyway.”

“Okay, and? That doesn’t make cheating okay.”

“Suppose not.”

“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. For my part in it.”

Eddie glanced back over, taking in the downward tilt of Steve’s mouth and his big sad eyes.

“S’not your fault. You were wronged too.”

“I guess, but…” Steve bit his lip and looked up from the screen, casting his eyes around his kitchen like something was going to pop out and answer whatever question was running through his head. 

Eddie waited. The guy had been very gracious so far and he seemed to genuinely feel bad for all the mess he’d been wrapped up in. 

“I…” Steve continued. “I know how this thing usually goes. You find out you’ve been cheated on and you still love your partner so you tend to focus all your anger towards the person they cheated with rather than the person who actually wronged you.” He looked down, fiddling with some kind of flash card on the table in front of him.

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” Eddie stubbed his joint out, happy enough with his current buzz. He was sufficiently mellowed, he hadn’t cried yet though that would probably come once he was in bed, but his anger had simmered down to a level where he didn’t feel like putting his fist through a wall but still angry enough to plot.

“I am, I guess.”

Eddie nodded. “This happened to you before?” 

That was probably rude. His filter malfunctioned at the best of times but when he smoked it was all but gone.

“Yeah.” Steve stared down at the cards in his hands. “My mom had to put up with my dad’s infidelity a lot. And my ex-girlfriend cheated on me a while back.” Steve paused before taking a deep breath. “Rick was actually my first attempt to get back into the dating world so…”

“So we can both be sad and angry together.”

“Yeah.” Steve smiled and Eddie stood up, plucking his phone from his desk and settling it on his bedside table, switching his lamp on and throwing himself face down on his bed, probably barely visible to Steve.

“We can be sad and angry together.”

Eddie glanced up. Now that he was closer to his phone, he could better see exactly what Steve was fiddling with, he could read some of the text on the card.

“Stevie.” Eddie sat up, moving closer to the phone and unable to stop the smirk running over his face. Steve’s eyes snapped up towards him. “Did you write out flash cards for when you called me?”

Steve’s eyes widened before he unceremoniously swept all the cards off the table in front of him, his cheeks turning a terrific shade of red and he leaned his face on his hand, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. 

“No.”

It was adorable. Incredibly dorky and adorable.

Eddie laughed, full on braying belly laughs, collapsing backwards onto his bed. When he peeked back up to look at his phone through his giggles, Steve’s face was somehow even redder. 

“Oh my god.” Eddie breathed. “That’s darling.”

“Shut up.”

“No, no. It’s really very sweet.”

“Ugh. Whatever.” Steve rolled his eyes but was still smiling, still had a blush lighting up his cheeks.

Eddie settled himself back against his headboard. “Actually, listen, let me ask you something.”

“Okay?”

“Does Rick know? Does he know that you know? Or that you told me?”

“No.” Steve answered, finally relaxing his fake nonchalance into real relaxation, folding his hands on the table and propping his chin up on them. “I figured if anyone had the right to rip his balls off it would be you.”

Eddie nodded. 

That he could understand. 

“I get that, but there’ll be no ball ripping from where I stand. No, I want to hit him where it hurts.”

“Woulda hurt me plenty.”

“Oh, I’m sure. But the only thing Rick loves more than his own balls is his car.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, he’s like, obsessed with that thing. It’s weird. It’s not even that nice of a car.”

“I’d love to say he has bad taste but considering he picked the both of us, I’m pretty sure his tastes are actually immaculate.”

“Just his decisions are bad.”

“Exactly.”

“Well.” Steve sighed. “I’d love to help any way I can. I hate that I was involved in this, in what he did to you.”

“To us, Stevie. To us.”

“Right, so what’s the plan then?”

“When are you due to see him next?”

Eddie pulled his van into the parking lot of the bar. It was halfway across town and a place that he never frequented if he could help it. Rick liked it though, always had. Eddie just liked other places around town more.

But it could be cute, he supposed. A small little country and sports type place that had a rainbow flag behind the bar and a small number of regulars who, according to Steve, wouldn’t do anything unless you got between them and their drink. 

He knew that Steve was inside with Rick, playing up the flirty angle and acting tipsier than he actually was to put him at ease.

Steve had mentioned one of his signature moves involved pool, bending over the table and wiggling a little bit to keep the attention on him. Pulling out a little pout whenever he missed a shot or asking for help to line up his cue.

Eddie would be more upset by the fact that he was missing the sight of it if he didn't know he'd have the opportunity to see it himself at some point in the future.

They had talked for so long that first night, long enough that the sun was starting to come up by the time they'd both dragged themselves away from their phones to sleep.

They’d talked about their families, their friends, what they were doing in life right now as opposed to what they had hoped they would be doing when they were teenagers. They talked about their school selves and their dating lives and as the conversation wore on Eddie found himself thinking again and again about how long it had been since it had felt so easy to talk to someone like that.

It had been a very long time since Rick had put any effort into getting to know him as he grew through their two years together, like he expected Eddie to stay the same person as he was at the start of the relationship.

After that first night where they’d figured out their master plan, he and Steve had just… kept talking. Throughout the rest of the week up until tonight, they were in almost constant contact, only really taking a break to sleep and work.

Eddie felt connected to Steve and in some roundabout way he was thankful to Rick for bringing him into his life.

He’d even met Robin in passing one day, living two floors below him, holding the door open for him as he tried to wrestle with grocery bags. 

She was so weird. He kind of loved her the second she opened her mouth. Honest, but with the sharpest tongue he’d ever met on a person. 

She had knocked on his apartment door later that evening to tell him Steve was calling over to visit and asking if he wanted to come around to meet him. 

Steve had apparently delegated the asking to her because he was too nervous to do it himself.

Again, adorable.

Steve was somehow even sweeter and even saltier in person than he was over the phone and Eddie tried hard, he tried really hard not to look too much or let his fucking horomones run away with him but Jesus. H. Christ it was difficult. 

The sweetness of his soft sweaters and polos, his gentle smiles and understanding words matched with his salty mean girl attitude that would slip out every so often and the bitchiest of eye rolls that made Eddie’s heart jump.

Eddie was also trying to feel bad about what was happening but honestly, he was losing reasons to care that much.

He hadn’t texted or called Rick once in the last week and Rick himself had never reached out which all at once made Eddie realise he was the primary communicator in the relationship and it hadn’t been reciprocated in a long, long time. 

Adding onto that was the knowledge that Rick was still fucking cheating on him and was in regular contact with Steve left Eddie only half heartedly feeling bad.

He and Steve would go over the screenshots of the conversation together every night and every night Eddie found it harder and harder to hang up the phone.

He was pretty sure Steve was feeling the same way. 

They kept just catching each other staring. Or smiling or, pulling back from touching too much and he was almost sure that as soon as Rick was out of the picture for the both of them, something was going to blossom.

Even now, with Steve inside, flirting up a storm with Eddie’s ex-boyfriend who didn’t know he was an ex yet, they would be ending the night together. 

Robin was waiting back at her apartment with an alibi ready if Eddie needed it though he suspected he wouldn’t.

Neither he nor Rick had a great track record with the police and it would be more trouble than it was worth to get them involved.

Speaking of, Eddie spotted Rick’s car, some souped up four wheel drive monstrosity of small dick syndrome sitting in the shadows and away from the cameras of the bar where Steve had convinced him to park with a suggestion of something happening in those shadows later on. 

He hopped out of his van and threw open the back doors, grabbing his bag of goodies before sidling around Rick’s car to wait.

When the chords of some Shania Twain number started to leak through the walls, the signal he’d been waiting for, the sound loud enough to drown out what Eddie would be doing, he dropped his bag to the floor.

Curling his keys into his fingers and with almost a skip in his step Eddie began to carve a stripe through the immaculate and expensive paint work. Working his way around to the drivers side, he lifted the key up before bringing it back down.

With a little bit of sickening glee, he hacked the word CHEATER into the side of the car, the side that would be immediately visible from the bar door and the side Rick would have to see every time he wanted to get in and get out of the driver's seat.

At least until he paid a bomb to get it fixed.

Eddie had connections in this town. Working as a mechanic here for years would do wonderful things to extend this pain. 

Rick knew fuck all about cars. 

Tucking his keys back into his pocket, he sidled back around to his duffel bag, unzipping it and pulling out his Stanley blade.

Unsheathing it, he gripped it tight in his hand and punched it down into the nearest tyre, listening with satisfaction as the thing slowly deflated before moving onto the other three.

A second Shania song had started up. 

He could hear Steve crooning out from inside, getting louder and Eddie knew he was running out of time. 

He pulled Steve’s baseball bat from the duffle and gave it a little twirl, the same one he’d seen Steve do when he’d first handed it off and he had tried so hard not to be attracted to it. 

He’d failed miserably. 

Maybe Eddie could deal with a gym bunny if that gym bunny was Steve.

With an almighty swing, he brought the bat down, shattering one of the headlights with an almighty crash that wasn’t quite drowned out by the karaoke inside.

Rearing back Eddie swung again, smashing the other headlight and while the music didn’t cut off, he could clearly hear Steve inside calling out for Rick to “Wait!”

Okay, only a few seconds left.

Pulling the bat back and letting the anger and betrayal and indignation flow through him, he brought the bat down hard into the windshield where it embedded itself, the spider cracks of the tempered glass making the thing practically opaque.

The bat was fucking stuck.

Eddie knew that if he was able to pull hard enough he would be able to release the whole windshield from the car but he didn’t even have the strength in him to budge the bat.

“What the fuck?!”

Eddie slowly released his hands from the bat and turned, looking at Rick standing in the doorway of the bar, his mouth hanging wide open in shock, unable to believe what he was seeing. Steve was standing just behind him, with one hand over Rick’s chest.

To anyone else it would look like a comforting gesture, maybe. A show of support. 

But Eddie could tell the hand was there to hold Rick back if he decided to lunge. 

Both Steve and Rick dragged their gaze over the flat tyres, the word carved into the side, the bat stuck in the windshield.

“Hey sweetheart.” Eddie called across the distance, feeling comfortable enough to turn his back to pick up his bag, trusting Steve to at least shout if Rick was about to tackle him.

“Eddie,” Rick breathed, still open-mouthed somehow. “What in the god damned hell has gotten into you?!”

“I wasn’t talking to you.” He slung the bag over his shoulder and held his hand out.

Steve patted Rick twice on the chest and stepped out from behind him. 

Rick watched him walk away looking even more bewildered than before.

With one hand Steve took Eddie’s and with the other he grabbed the bat, wiggling it a few times before pulling it free. 

They broke apart as they reached Eddie’s van, Steve climbing into the passenger seat and Eddie throwing his bag in the back before starting up the van from his position in the driver's seat.

He leaned over Steve to shout out of the window, “Have a nice life, asshole!”

As the van tore out of the lot, Steve stretched both hands out of the window, two middle fingers extended until Rick, still frozen on the spot, was out of sight.

When he pulled himself back inside, Eddie saw him glance his way, a huge grin on his face.

Eddie had a smile to match, whooping into the night as they sped down the road.

AO3

@geekymagicalpotato

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation.

[savannahsdeath]

hi i love your writing SO MUCH and idk if i requested this already but… do you think we can get a brothers best friend ellie?? readers brother DOES NOT want them together but they end up fucking when he’s asleep/not home. or reader goes to ellies house and eats her out while shes on call with reader’s brother?? either one is fine i would just love to see you write it

i think you requested that but i made it likee the brother didnt care so heres a second one🤭ill post the first one too tho!!

BBF!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! smut, almost getting caught

writers note: im sorry its so short whateva💔

You couldn't decide whether you like it or not.

Well, of course you did. Ellie never failed to make you feel good, her strap hitting all the right places while her hands caressed your thighs. She was rough, but not too rough. Degrading, but also praising. Basically, she was all you could ever ask for and more. What was there to hate?

But at some point, there was this little voice in your head telling you you're pathetic. Pathetic for liking this, agreeing to this and... just admiring her overall.

Because, jesus, 'she's my brother's friend. Best friend. What am I going to tell him?'

You, as the little sister, always let him insult you. Your opinion didn't matter, you gave up on trying to be important long time ago. You didn't hate him, he wasn't that bad. It was just sibling love language. He just couldn't be nice. If he knew about you and Ellie...

You were good at hiding it, though. When you first met her, you didn't believe she's really friends with your brother. Not to be mean, but you didn't thought he'll get along with someone who seems so... perfect.

'She probably has a shitty personality.'

That's how you explained their friendship. And you were terribly wrong.

After she visited your house once, she kept coming almost every day. At this point, you got used to that.

Oh, well, not exactly... There was some awkward situations, like when you exited the bathroom in only a towel wrapped around your bare skin and you saw her leaning against the handrail in the hallway. She only ruffled your hair and laughed at your embarrassment, seeing you blush and holding onto the fabric like your life depended on it. Maybe it did, actually?

It wasn't long after that before you began to wonder -'She can't be friends with my brother... can she?'- You started to notice more things - her kindness towards you, a tender touch here and there, and the way she looked at you made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. So what if she was his best friend? Would he really mind?

But what if he did? What if he found out?

Suddenly that little voice in your head was screaming louder than ever, and that feeling of shame and guilt crept up on you again.

But no matter how much of the guilt you felt, and despite the small voice in your head telling you you're pathetic, it felt right. You felt accepted. Accepted by someone who was perfect in every way. The thought of telling your brother filled you with dread, but it seemed so far away. You could figure out that little problem later, right? Just for now, you could feel a rush of emotions - mostly guilt, but also a rush of lust that made you want more.

More and more.

And she gave you more.

A quiet -'fuck'- escaped her lips as she saw your cunt throbbing against her strap. Her hands continued firmly holding you down as you didn't even bother to stay quiet. You felt so good... and so ashamed... You wanted it to stop but at the same time, you knew you'd beg for more if she would even simply slow down.

It was really your own fault.

This was the first time in ages you were left home alone, so you immediately invited Ellie over. First time you won't have to bury your face in the pillows. First time she won't have to shush you. First time you could actually do everything.

You were fighting your own thoughts, not knowing which one are the bad ones. You had no idea if you're doing the right thing. And you most definitely weren't but you were too fucked up to realize that.

Ellie chuckled, hearing your not-muffled this time sounds. "Were you always this loud? Jesus, how did we manage to keep this a secret for so long?"

The truth is, she wasn't silent herself. Fine, she wasn't a whining mess, unlike you, but still - the little 'fuck's and praises escaping her mouth weren't too quiet.

You continued squirming and whimpering about how big she is and how much it hurts, hoping it'll magically change, though you didn't really wanted it to. Or maybe you did? You weren't sure. Your mind continued the fight wether it's good or pathetic, none of the sides prevailing.

She clicked her tongue in disappointment, but her smirk told you how proud she really is. "I know, I know, so stop moving so fucking much." She said.

Her raspy, tired voice was enough to make you squirm again. You weren't used to hear it in these circumstances before, since it's obviously the first time she could speak loudly and clearly, without worrying about your brother.

"I said something, doll." Her grip on your hips hardened, almost aggressively pinning you to bed.

You heard the ring hanging near the door, meaning someone opened them. Just by footsteps you could tell it was your brother.

"Should I stop?" She asked with mock-concern and interest. You realized your answer won't change anything - maybe just the intensity of her moves, so you didn't waste your energy answering. That was a sign of your obedience and helplessness Ellie waited for. "Good girl."

She rolled you on your stomach and tangled her fingers in your hair, pressing your head into the pillow. She shoved it down with every thrust - every hit of your climax - to stop you from moaning. And of course it didn't work completely, but they faded enough to be inaudible outside the room.

She was intentionally going faster and faster. She loved playing with you, feeling the thrill of it, even though you didn't find it so amusing. You digged your nails into the tattoo on her forearm, hoping to slow her down.

"Ya know what will happen if he hears?" She didn't seem to care that your fingers were literally drawing blood from her body. "You'll handle it. Unless you want him to find out?" She whispered.

You immediately shook your head, pursing your lips and squeezing your eyes shut.

Then, your moment of focus broke as you heard knocking, on the door to your room this time.

"I'm back!" Your brother announced.

You asked him to tell you whenever he goes out or cames back, mostly so you knew if Ellie's free, since he only goes out with her. Today was the first time he went outside on his own and the poor guy had no idea she found a reason to visit your house anyway, just like he had no idea she did so even when he was home, in his room, right above yours.

The lack of response surprised him, so he knocked once more before shouting confused -'You there?'

Ellie looked down at you, daring you to answer, mouthing silent 'go on' in the most taunting voice she could.

"Yes! That's good!" Your voice was shaky and you knew he will notice.

He wasn't really caring, just curious, so he had to know everything. His first sentence sounded cute, like he really cared, but you figured out he's making fun of you as soon as you heard the other questions. "Are you crying? What, you weren't invited to some lame party? Or a boy you know for a week broke up with you?"

And what were you supposed to say? -'No, your best friend is fucking me for... probably more than an hour now, and her dick is probably bigger than yours, so I can't control my tears'

"Yeah, something lik- Oh, fuck off!" You screamed back, succeeding to pretend you're really hurt because of one of the pathetic things he accused you for.

He laughed. "Mhm- Whatever!"

The footsteps climbed up stairs and got silent. Ellie bit her bottom lip, holding back a chuckle.

"Does he really think of you so low?" Her hips slowed down again, but became more precise. "You did good, don't worry. It'll be over soon."

[equalseleventhirds]

"I don't understand how I'm losing," Reigen said, his hands flying over his keyboard. It was so late now—too late, maybe—if only he'd used the same technique as with the Player Killer from the beginning, he might have stood a chance, but he hadn't seriously thought he'd lose—

"Shishou," Mob said, "why is this so important? You already have second place from Twitter."

Reigen laughed, not at all nervously, and splayed a hand across his forehead. "You don't understand, Mob. The publicity from something like this, even a rematch, would do wonders for Spirits and Such. This is about business."

(He would never admit to his pride being on the line.)

"And anyway, who is this guy? A radio host? I've been on TV, you know."

Mob carefully did not bring up what had actually happened when Reigen made his television debut.

Ritsu had no such qualms. "When they exposed you as a fraud? That was publicity too, right?"

"Hey—!"

Serizawa leaned over Reigen's shoulder to see the computer screen, careful not to spill the tea he placed on the desk. "Oh, Cecil from Welcome to Night Vale? It's been a while since I listened to that, maybe I should catch up."

Reigen stared at him. "You? What? Serizawa?"

"Ah... yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Back when I was... well, when I didn't leave my room much, the podcast was popular. I guess it gave a sense of... community? Feeling less alone, even when you are." He shrugged. "Plus, hearing another gay man in a show like that was comforting."

"He's gay? Canonically?" Why can't I be gay canonically?

"Sure, he got married in episode 100. It was very emotional."

"I nearly died in our chapter 100—"

-- -- -- -- --

Well, listeners, there's still a few hours left on the poll, but I'm now leading at 56%! I must say, I did not expect this, especially after Twitter users so clearly forgot—or perhaps never knew—about my Tumblr Sexyman Origins.

But, that's neither here nor there. I certainly am grateful, if a bit bemused, about all of this, but let us not forget that this is all a friendly competition. Unlike the annual War On Christmas—and let us all take a moment to remember our fallen allies against that terrible holiday foe—this is a battle of kindness. Love, even. The love we feel for Tumblr, for our favorite sexy men, for pressing a button on a meaningless internet poll. The love we feel, listeners, for each other.

And in the spirit of that love and friendliness, I figured I'd get to know my opponent a little better! A bit of googling, which of course you know means searching via every search engine but Google, what with the Town Council imposing the Google Search Tax and getting all Night Vale IP addresses shadowbanned, has led me to... oh my, listeners. I do not know who made this, but Reigen Arataka has the single most beautiful professional web page I have ever encountered. It's... words do not do it justice. I am tearing up. This... I could not make anything better myself.

A-hem. Listeners, now that I've wiped away the tears such beauty inspired in me, I can now see that Reigen's website advertises his business, one Spirits and Such Consulting. Well! We may be rivals in this moment, but I am overjoyed to learn that Reigen runs such an innovative and important business! I am nearly ashamed that, while my opponent works to make the world a better place, I, a mere community radio host, am winning the sexyman contest.

Nevertheless, we must respect the polls. Not respecting polls could get us in hot water with the Town Council, or with the demigods of numbers who lurk in the sharp edges of percentages. So since I can't hand my victory over to him, I think I'll do what I can as a community radio host, and promote Reigen Arataka's important business!

So if you're a spirit in need of counseling, a ghost in need of therapy, or an eldritch beast in need of a shoulder to cry on, head on over to Seasoning City and pay our good friend Reigen a visit! I'm sure he'll be pleased as anything to see you.

[lavandulawrites]

In The Arms Of A Longing Man (rewritten)

Yandere Childe x reader

This was the first fanfic I have wrote. I was scrolling through my fics and I suddenly got the urge to rewrite it:))

Masterlist

Synopsis: Ajax can’t seem to let you go.

Word count: 1726

His dead eyes where something you wished you would never have to see again. Every day you prayed to whichever archon who might listen, the he would be gone. It was no surprise that the archons failed you as everything else in you life. Had you just realised that something was terribly wrong with him from the beginning, everything would have been different. If you hadn’t met him the day before your original departure, your life would be normal.

The ice cold Snezhnayan wind blew through the treetops, creating a whistling sound. You cussed at yourself for not wearing a ticker scarf, but you knew very well that Childe would be extremely mad disappointed if you didn’t wear the scarf he so kindly had gifted you. You could only hope that you wouldn’t get a frostbite.

“Hurry up soldiers!” the commander yelled. You and the other Fatui soldiers hurried as fast as you could in the heavy snow. Oh, how you longed for your warm little cottage that was safely hidden in the big forest by the little village you had grown so fond of.

You thought that joining the Fatui was a good idea. You had hoped then that you would be able to escape the poverty that had hunted you since you were born. You did in fact earn more than you ever had, but it didn’t take long before you soon regretted your horrible decision. You had realised then that you had been blinded by the hope of earning enough money to live a good life. You had been so blinded that you had not thought about all the cruel acts one had to commit in order to become a true Fatui soldier. You realised soon after arriving to Snezhnaya that you had been incredibly foolish and naive to believe you could avoid all the evil deeds. How could you be so utterly foolish? You were truly ashamed of your naive thinking.

You had to leave the Fatui as soon as possible. Today was the day you were going to tell your superior that you were going to take a boat back to Mondstadt the following day.

You were going back and forth in front of her superior’s office. You didn’t have any other choice. You held your breath and raised you hand to knock on the door.

“Hi! You’re [Name] right? You’re one of the new recruits if I remember correctly?” a voice behind you said gleefully. You jumped at the sound and quickly turned around to get a look on the person who the voice belonged to. It was Tartaglia, one of the Eleven Harbingers.

“Hello sir. Yes you’re indeed correct” you straightened your back and bowed deeply in respect.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be training with the other recruits?” the Harbinger grinned.

“Yes, I should, but I’m here regarding my position here in the Fatui. I’m going to quit” you looked down at the floor. The light blue tiles were wet, and a small puddle was forming underneath Childe’s boots. You didn’t know why you were telling him all this. Maybe it was because he was a Harbinger and you felt the need to tell him? His grin was gone and replaced by and unreadable expression. Had you gone too far by telling him? Probably, judging by his expression or rather lack of.

“Oh… really. May I ask why?” his lips were pressed tighter in a tight line. You really shouldn’t tell him the reason, but you definitely shouldn’t lie to him.

You sighed “I am really not fit for being a member of the Fatui”.

He hummed. “I see…” he looked disappointed. He turned in his heel and walked away down the dark hallway. He waved over his shoulder. “By then, dear [Name]” his singsong voice echoed against the empty hallways.

You tumbled back against the door. You were relieved that he didn’t scold you or worse… Still, you got a bad feeling.

The office door opened. The sergeant looked you up and down with disapproval. “What brings you here. And why is your uniform wrinkled?” he motioned for you to enter. You must have knocked on the door when you leaned against it by accident.

“Sit” he said and sat himself on a fancy leather chair behind his newly polished desk. He was waiting for you to speak up.

“You see sir, I have thought about it for a while and I have concluded that I will resign from my position in the Fatui” you said as you neatly folded your hands in your lap. You tried to put on an air of confidence, but you knew he could see right through you.

“I am sure you have” his tone mocking. “Why? Do you not feel honoured by being a soldier? Are you really that ungrateful?” he pushed his small round glasses up his nose. His eyes narrow and filled with anger.

“No! Of course not! I’m very grateful that I got this position. It’s just that I feel… like it’s not for me. The Fatui have use for someone better than me” you tried desperately to explain.

He scoffed “Well… I guess I can’t deny you since you applied yourself. It’s a shame really. You’re dismissed.” He waved his hand at you.

“Thank you for understanding, sir” you bowed and hurried out of the room. You sighed in relief. I really did it!

The next day you had finished packing and was on your way to the pier. The docks in Snezhnaya were freezing, but you couldn’t care less. Finally you were going home. You were about to board the boat, when a few Fatui soldiers surrendered you.

“We have orders from the Eleventh Harbinger to arrest you” the tallest of them said.

Your eyes widened and fear crept over your entire being. What on earth was going on? You hadn’t done anything wrong. “Why?” you asked and you prayed that you didn’t sound scared, but judging from your voice you did.

“You have leaked secret information about the Fatui to other nations” a broad shouldered man said. He was shorter than the others, but his strength was clearly superior. He was eyeing you up and down and his lips twisted into a mocking grin.

“What?! I have done no such thing! I swear on my life!” you pleaded. Your pleas fell however on dead ears as they forcefully brought you to Zapolyarny Palace.

The footsteps of the soldiers echoed in the seemingly endless hallways. You were shivering. Was this it? Were you going to get executed for crimes you did not commit?

After walking through the dark and cold hallways for what felt like eternity, you stopped in front of two giant twin doors. The doors were the only thing that separated you from you seemingly inevitable doom. The doors opened with a loud groan and the soldiers pushed you in. You stumbled, but quickly caught your balance. The inside was dimly lit, and the walls were decorated to an almost exaggerated state.

The Harbingers were standing in an half circle with the leader of the Fatui in the middle. Their eyes followed your every move and you had never felt so utterly helpless. As you kneeled in front off them, your legs almost gave out. The soldiers behind you followed your example and kneeled.

Pierro cleared his throat. “I am certain you understand why you are here” his gruff voice rung loudly in the spacious hall. You could only nod.

“I am highly disappointed. Such behaviour should be punished with death.” You raised your head and were about to claim your innocence, but stopped when you saw that The Jester was not done talking.

“Thanks to Tartaglia you are spared. Be wise and thank him properly.” Your eyes widened. “You will now be serving directly under him.”

Childe was grinning. You bowed your head. “Thank you for giving me a second chance. To that I am extremely grateful” your voice was quiet. You weren’t grateful at all. Now it would be impossible to leave the Fatui. Serving directly under a Harbinger was worse than death.

“I look forward working with you, comrade” his blue eyes full of indescribable hunger. You swallowed thickly.

“You are dismissed” Pierro’s voice stern. You rose to your feet and bowed deeply before exiting.

 

 

 

The icy wind didn’t get any better as you decided the mountain. The mission had gone smoothly. The snow creaked under your heavy boots. Fear was creeping up your back. You were almost home. You tried to calm your nerves. Maybe he wasn’t in his office? Perhaps his mission was delayed? You could only hope so.

The office door creaked open. You stepped inside with your back straightened. You were not going to show him any fear. The red haired man was staring out the window. He turned around and grinned upon seeing you. “Well if it isn’t [Name]” his voice was soft like velvet. His dead eyes boring into yours. Trying to peer into your soul.

“Hello Tartaglia” you bowed.

He raised an eyebrow playfully “What have I said about treating me so formally when it’s just us?”

“Right…”your voice flat as you eyed the Harbinger.

He walked towards you with a wolfish grin. He stroked your cheek gently. “Oh, how I have missed you…” he sighed. You didn’t answer. He curled his his arms around your and held you tightly. You didn’t dare to hug him back. He lowered his head and whispered in her ear “You can’t escape me now. Do you seriously think that the commander doesn’t tell me everything?”

Chills ran down your spine. He laughed coldly. “He told me that you were planning on leaving the group and and flee across the border. How utterly foolish you are” he sighed and looked you straight in the eye. His expression filled with madness.

He gripped your your chin firmly. “Do you know how hurt I was when I heard that? I can’t possibly let you go now. No you are way to naive for this cruel world” his features twisted in faux sadness. “Oh, how I have longed for you since the first time I saw you” his voice soft and his gaze tender. His lips pulled back into a terrifying smile. “I will never let you go.”

[reixtsu]

Lantern In The Shadows

Multi character x gn reader! Gender of reader is not specified.

Characters listed in the end!

Genre: Angst (comfort in the end)

Warnings: hints is self harm, mentions blood, darkness, self hate

He was the light within your darkness, a comforting lantern that stood upon your domain of blood. He was such a breath of fresh air, someone that you could tolerate in the cursed world you resided in.

However there was one thing that bothered you about him-out of all of the people he could have been with, why did he choose you?

In your opinion, you felt that there were plenty of better partners that he could have been with, and definitely have a healthier relationship with. You felt bad because it seemed like you were a burden to him, as you were always feeling down in the dumps.

Besides, you as the darkness did not want to dull the light that you loved so dearly.

The thought hurt so much, that 'he was making a sacrifice for the world by being with you'. You wanted him to be happy, to not deal with you since you were convinced you were a problem, something that should be wiped from this world. The aching in your chest only felt deeper day by day as you found yourself growing more and more distant from him.

Until one day, the medications were not seeming to work anymore. The emotions ran to its climax, and the feelings of negativity deep inside became shadows that blurred your vision.

The pain, it was too much to handle.

It was suffocating, as though you were drowning a cold sea of your own blood. You reached for the knife, hoping to dull out the agoney, only to be stopped.

"My love, what are you doing?" His voice was god-sent, a comforting tone that brought you back to your senses ever so slightly.

He looked at you with such softness, gently holding your wrist to prevent you from hurting yourself. 

Hot tears trickled down your face slowly, leaving traces of saltiness behind as you stared at the ground, ashamed to even look at his radiant gaze. "Don't look at me. I'm...so terrible."

His heart crumbled at your words, a wave of concern and protection washed over him as he took a step closer to you. "Don't say that. You're not terrible."

"But I am!" You cried out, tears falling nonstop as your throat felt dry from distress. "I don't deserve you. I'm such a terrible person, I made so many mistakes, and I never seem to do better!"

You coughed out the words that have been stabbing at your core every single day, but all you could see is blood everywhere, and your demons laughing at you, saying how much of a failure you were.

"I'm... a failure."

Warm arms wrapped around you and shielded you from the blood, demons, and darkness, suddenly making your cold, numb limbs feel lifelike again. Your lover kissed your forehead, a reminder that you were a treasure to worship.

"You are not a failure, or a terrible person," He whispered into your ear as he rubbed soothing shapes along your back. "You are such a great person with many great talents, values, and potencial. You might not see it yet, but everyone around you appreciates you. Take me as an example, I am so lucky to be with someone like you, who cares and takes care of me like no one else does. If you ever harm yourself, I will be devastated."

One sniff, then two sniffles. You tried your best to understand his words as he stared at you with love. You didn't really believe his words, but you knew that you could trust that he was being honest. The blood sea of darkness slowly seemed to fade away as the gentle light gave you a warm embrace.

In that moment, you knew you were loved, and you were worth his love.

    - KAVEH, kazuha, Tignari, Aether, lyney, THOMA, neuvillette, JING YUAN, Gepard, dan heng, SIGMA, Atsushi, Odasaku (BSD), your faves

Author’s note: This story is meant to be comforting, so I know that I may give some people triggers, it sure gave me a small trigger as I wrote this, but I want everyone to know that people are willing to help those in need, no matter the form.

[mashiraostail]

pls pls can i request a jealous halsin x reader/tav scenario … he’s been pining over you, you’re oblivious, and then when he sees some innocent platonic affection between you and another companion, all that pining boils to the surface. mayhaps some nsfw too if you’ll indulge me. pls the way you write him is simply… *chef’s kiss*…. magnifique ✨

hoooraayyy Halsin HOORAY!! I heart making men talk like flowery little victorian women writing letters to their husband say some fruity shit big man! Idk what compels me to make these so long that's why they take forever.

I have another ask like this and maybe I'll write him doing sum primal fuck shit but this was an itch i just had to scratch

It wasn't Gale's fault, it wasn't your fault either, it was his fault. Halsin knows this, he's honestly ashamed, he shouldn't be so easy to sway...he never has been before.

He notices everything, he notices the flirtation, the questions about the life he left behind, the fleeting touches, the way you always go to him when they day is out, you propositioned him, he declined. That was his fault. It wasn't the time, he had business he had to sort before he could indulge himself, and you couldn't hold that against him. He made it clear when he turned you down, it wasn't you, and maybe one day soon things would be different.

Even so, you were always chatting with him, smiling at him, touching him, gods you always touched him. It drove him mad actually, your hand on his bicep, on his chest, on his stomach when he said something particularly funny, you sat so close to him your thighs pressed together, your shoulders and arms, all of it pushed him to the edge. And the way you said his name after you laughed at his joke, "Oh Halsin.." When you see him again after a long day, "Halsin! How'd it go?!" You'd even hugged him, thrown your arms around his neck and shoulders. He'd held the small of your back and laughed heartily with you, maybe a few ales too deep. He swore one day soon things would turn a corner for the two of you.

You doted on everyone though, and you enjoyed closeness with all your companions. Normally he'd be happy to see you sharing your joy with everyone but lately it frustrated him. He wondered what was different, even though deep down he knew. It was you, he didn't want you to himself necessarily, he wanted you to understand how he felt. The more he waited to explain himself the more upset he became, and the harder he found focusing around you to be. He felt like he was always brooding, always lingering behind the group, because the sight of you slinging your arm around Karlach or playfully mussing Astarion's hair made his stomach lurch with uncertainty. He wrote it off as a disdain for societal labels and relationships but he felt unfair even doing that, lying to himself.

He and Jaheria were the last ones to return to camp that day. He was grateful to travel with her alone, though he lamented not seeing you he did not lament the emotions seeing you caused to crop up. When he returned you were sitting on a log by the fire with Gale, chuckling and waving your hands. He'd already begun to feel wary.

Halsin inches closer, he snoops a bit sure, he's not proud of it but he's been alive long enough to accept he won’t always be proud of his actions.

"No!" You sound surprised through your laughter.

"Yes!" Gale's tone was argumentative but warm as you held onto his arms. Halsin bubbled a bit, out of everyone Gale was the most likely to get the wrong idea...or maybe the right one if the way you were squeezing him was any indiction of things.

"Did you really misbehave so terribly when you were younger?? I'll have to ask Tara next time we see her, I don't believe you!"

"Am I so untrustworthy?!" Gale sounds affronted.

"Based on your stories?? Yes! Gale! You are!" You're squeezing him and shaking him so much the pair of you topple over the back of the log you're perched on, Halsin watches Gale kick his legs for a while as you laugh.

"You'll kill me," Gale stands up and dusts himself off, "and the rest of them too!" He gestures to his orb, "I don't know how sensitive this thing is!" He hoists you up by your arm.

"I'm sorry Gale, that was just so funny, I can't picture you a young mischievous wizard at all..."

"Well it's a good thing I grew out of it." He's smirking at you though, impishly. It makes you laugh.

"Did you?" You cover your mouth as you chuckle before reaching out and dusting his hair off, tucking the rouge strands back into place. "I don't know if I believe that either. You've certainly kept your impish charm."

Halsin feels his face warm, he watched the two of you bat at each other like school children. He kissed his teeth, rubbed his calloused thumb over the smooth back of his hand, anything to distract himself from the annoyance rolling over in his stomach.

"Who's to say?" Gale holds his hands up, a faux surrender, shrugging just a bit.

"Go to sleep Gale." You shove him, snickering, "you're delirious."

"Perhaps I am." Gale smiles at you, "goodnight my friend." The words hardly do anything to put Halsin at ease he can practically feel his eye twitching. Whoever said patience was a druidic virtue?

"Sleep tight Gale." When you turn away from him you see Halsin, who to his credit had no real reason to be standing there.

"Halsin!" You chirp happily at him and he feels his chest bloom at it.

"Hello my dear, we're back late today, I apologize. Did you need us?" He tries to squash the growing disdain in his stomach in favor of appreciating you as you appear before him.

"Oh no! Nothing Shadowheart couldn't handle." You wave back at her tent, "How were your travels?"

"They were fine. Unfortunately the Harpers really can't be trusted.." He peers over your shoulder, notices your tent moved to be beside Gales, which had never been the case before.

"I figured as much." You sigh, he watches your eyebrows turn upwards. "That's upsetting. Are you going to clean up for the night?"

"Yes I think I will." He glances to the stream behind camp, no one else was there.

"Can I come? I hate to bother you but I can't sleep, and I think I kept Gale up so long he was hallucinating." Your fingertips brush his arm as you chuckle, he glances down at the point of contact. He feels the skin there heat up as you pull away.

"You're no bother, my dear." He shakes his head, "come with me."

You trot happily behind him, unaware of his stewing just in front of you.

"So, what went wrong with the Harpers?"

"You and Gale are close." Halsin elects to ignore your questions.

"Oh?" You perch on a nearby rock as Halsin crouches by the stream, "Gale? I suppose we are friendly. He's very funny."

"Is he?" Halsin fights to keep his tone even, though you seem oblivious to it.

"Did you hear us talking earlier? I swear the more sleepy he gets the funnier he is." You're giggling, like a school child. Halsin feels his eye twitch.

"I did not hear you, I only saw you fall."

"My fault completely, I was going mad with it, it was so funny, Gale told me that when he was a younger student, at that fancy magic school he snuck into the-"

"Do you..care for him?" Halsin turns to you, still crouched by the running water below him.

"I suppose I do...like him yes." You sound confused, lost, which Halsin supposes is a good sign as you'll only tell the truth.

"You like him?" Halsin is looking intently at you.

"I do, he's..nice.." You look like you're entirely unsure about what's going on.

"You like him so much because he's..nice, then?" Halsin doesn't sound like he's convinced.

"Yes I think so-"

"Do you share a bed with him?" Halsin stands, he walks towards you perched on your rock.

"I-" He almost feels bad for the way a warm flush rises to your face as you look up at him.

"N-no we don't, we haven't. We're only friendly-"

"Do you wish to? Would you wish to?"

"N-no I don't, I wouldn't he...I-" You flounder a bit, "why do you ask?"

"It seemed a certain way." Halsin kneels, face to face with you on your perch, "I worried."

"Why did you worry?"Your holding your hands by your chest, leaning away from him, shocked but not leering, nervous..you were nervous. "Why would it worry you to know I shared a bed with Gale, that I cared for him in that way?"

At the realization of your nervousness he feels guilty, he puts his hands on your thighs, "I should apologize."

"Why?" Your face was flushed, your eyes were wide as you watched him, tried to predict his next move with no avail.

"I was selfish with you. With your time, with your care." He shakes his head, "I beg you to forgive me. To not let this ruin your opinion of me..I acted so poorly...and it..it’s embarrassing and dreadful and I beg for your forgiveness...You gave me a chance to have a piece of you, I turned you away. I know you don't hold that against me. You stepped aside and I am grateful that you did. The curse was my burden to bear, and I couldn't be distracted from it, not by you, or by anybody. You understood that, and I am grateful. Had you pushed me I would have..become distracted with you, I would have followed you wherever you went, and forgotten my duty."

"I understand Halsin. I'm not offended-"

"I know you aren't, and that's why I'm so grateful for you." He looks earnest, "but I selfishly believed that you would hold onto your want for me. That you would wait indefinitely for me to come to you. I held you to an unfair expectation, to the hope that you would not share your heart, or your body, with another. When I saw you today with Gale, I worried that I had given you up, that I had made a terrible blunder and I had lost my chance to have you. Gale does not seem the kind of man to be willing to share you, and I cannot blame him, nor could I blame any other for keeping you to themselves once they've had you."

"Why does that worry you? You did not want me then-"

"I did want you." Halsin insists, "and I do want you now, I've wanted you since the beginning but I knew you would consume me, that I would lose sight of what I was meant to do..but I've burned with it, you have enamored me completely and... brought out the worst in me, I'm useless with it."

"I'm sorry Halsin.." You hold his gaze, and cover his hands with yours.

"And you still apologize as if you have done wrong." He squeezes your thighs where his hands cover, "you have not, I am the one who lost sight of things, lost sight of what I wanted, who I wanted. I was so enamored by the idea of having you I cursed any obstacle in my way, rather than telling you the truth. That was my error. It was my error to believe you would hold onto your desire even after I turned you away, to believe that you would still consider me after I put something else above you."

"I don't understand Halsin.." You blink at him as he lifts your hands, "do you want to go our separate ways? Is this too much- I apologize if I was too forward back then, but we need you-"

"No," His forehead falls onto your knees, "perhaps I am not speaking clearly." He squeezes you again, "I don't want to be parted from you, not now, not ever... I want the opposite," he sighs, "I want you now, if you'll have me, if you can put my behavior..my feelings behind us.I know it was so childish of me. I’m so sorry my songbird..please find it in yourself to forgive me.” He looks up at you, he kisses the back of your hand, “you’ll break my heart if you don’t.”

"You haven't done anything wrong....Halsin.." You shake your head, "if you need to be forgiven then I forgive you, I'll always forgive you, but...I do not think you've done anything that deserves asking for it. We misunderstood each other..."

"You are brighter, and kinder than most, perhaps you're naive... or perhaps you understand things better than any of us." He kisses up your inner arm to the crook of your elbow, "I laid some sort of...childish claim to you, I believed I deserved you, your time, your body, your heart, more than the others, that you would come to me because...I don't know..I'm sorry, forgive me for treating you like a prize to be won, a piece of land to fight over you are...your heart is so much more than that, to me and to everyone that you meet." He barely takes his lips off your skin when he looks up at you and you feel your lungs empty of air.

"Halsin..of course I forgive you..” You barely get it out, you feel so breathless.

His lips pass the bend of your elbow and make their way to your shoulder, your neck, your jaw, his other hand engulfs your waist as he moves you from your perch and pulls you to his chest,

“do you? Really?” He’s at your jaw, "I was too much of an oafish brute to put words to it, to tell you, even when I should have, I adore you, I think so highly of you. I'm so taken by you.."

"I feel the same way Halsin.." You're breathless when you're face to face, your hand holds the nape of his neck, "I thought you wanted to...focus on the more dire things at hand so I left you to them, and when things ended and you didn't come to me I thought perhaps the fascination had passed and I did not want to trouble you again-"

"You did not trouble me then, you do not trouble me now,"  He sighs gratefully as he kisses you, it’s warm, his other hand leaves your jaw to press the small of your back, arching you closer to him.

“I have to have you..I’m worried I’ll die if I don’t.” He’s breathing quickly into your mouth with anticipation, “I need to see you.. All of you and..and feel you I-”

“Oh.” You felt gooey at that, of all the things you expected to happen today this was not one of them.

“And It has to be now you see I- I can hardly put my head on right when I start to think about you like that and it’s all I've been thinking of lately... I doubt I’ll even be able to get anything done properly tomorrow if you don’t set me straight.”

You laugh at that, “okay..” You nod, leaning down to him again, just slightly taller than him perched on his lap.

“Yes?” He sounds so perfectly hopeful.

"Tell me you want me, tell me this is what you want..to be with me..and for me to have you..even after all the things we misunderstood..that you’ll let me bed you, that you want me to..” He looks up at you earnestly, his eyes flickering between yours and you nod.

"I want you, I want this, Halsin, I always have."

He let's out a warbled sigh into your lips at that, already lowering your bodies to the ground, kissing you, sliding his hands into your clothes.

He was quick to uncover you, to toss your clothes off somewhere, to sigh gratefully as you did the same to his, you wondered what had gotten into him, but had no complaints either way.

He was lowering himself between your legs easily, kissing down your chest, lavishing your stomach with attention, unperturbed by the flush creeping down your neck.

"Halsin you don't have to-"

"Please, don't deny me now.." You aren't sure why you thought he would consider this a chore.

He deluged you with loving attention, his hands slid from the sides of your thighs up to the small of you back, pulling you closer and closer to him with each stroke. He groaned when you called his name, when you carded hair through your hands or held his face. Languid stokes of his tongue, paired with the slow curling of his fingers inside you. It felt like he was indulging himself with you, occasionally he pulls away, pressing the tall bridge of his nose to your tender skin, nipping at it, taking in deep breaths of you.

He retraces his path to your lips, long kisses and wide strokes of his tongue over your stomach, open mouthed kisses to your chest and collar, then he's taking your face in his hands, "Please-"

"You don't have to beg-" Your eyebrows draw together, "Halsin, I'm in no mood to deny you."

He guides your legs around his waist and slowly guides the head of his cock into you, a hand caging you in on either side of your head. You hold the nape of his neck, and his chest, begging him closer.

"Is it too much?" He sounds almost nervous, "are you alright?" He watches your chest and stomach prattle with deep, shaky breaths.

"I'm alright," You can barely get it out, "Halsin-" You're keening as he bottoms out. He ducks into your neck smattering loose kisses and bites along your skin.

"You're singing for me again," He's sighing into your skin, pulling you closer to him, "you sound so beautiful like this..." He rests one of his hands on your chest, pressing his thumb gently to the divot between of your collar bones, feeling you suck in deep, needy breaths in time with the rolls of his hips into you. Your skin is red under his thumb, flushed with arousal, nervousness, every time he moans, or pulls you into him he feels his hand rise as you take in a deep breath.

He pulls one of your legs over his shoulder and noses at the soft skin of your inner knee, he can feel your heart beating under his hands, he can feel your eyes on him, sliding down his chest and abdomen, back to his neck and jaw then to his eyes again. His hand rises and falls rapidly with your chest as you chant his name, he free hand guides the small of your back upwards as you arch into him. Your hand holds his on your chest, wrapped loosely around his wrist, your other flutters between his arm and chest.

"I'm here," Halsin breathes it out as your leg coils tighter around him, "I hear you, singing for me." And you were, hopelessly chanting his name between long rolls of his hips and every time you felt his index finger slide down the divot of your spine, "you're doing so well my songbird.." He sighs dreamily at you, as if you weren't coming undone below him.

You wrap both of your legs around him as he guides you up into his lap with the hand on your back, your arms lock around his shoulders easily and he groans into the crook of your neck, "hold onto me, I need you close." You can feel his breath down your chest, warm thankful sighs sliding down the sliver of space between your bodies.

His hand feels worlds larger on your back than you had fantasized, he uses it to guide the roll of your hips into his, his other hand holds the back of your neck, pulling you desperately closer. He sang you praises, pulled you greedily into his chest and kissed you when you cried out particularly loud until you felt yourself tightening around him, coiling in your stomach. You felt your nails dig into the back of his shoulder, he didn't seem to mind.

When it becomes too much, when that feeling in your stomach snaps and breaks you crumple into him, you tuck your head beneath his chin, you practically cry for him. When he finishes, which is hardly a few seconds after you, he drags his hand up you back, over your waist, then presses between your shoulder blades, you hear the hoked off groan that he lets into your hair.

You kiss him again, holding his jaw in two careful hands.

"I'm sorry i've kept you up dreadfully late." Halsin's hands still slide needy over your back and waist, pulling you ever closer to him.

"It's okay it..was worth it I'd say." You laugh, "what's brought all that on? Now, after everything?"

"You didn't notice how I'd been brooding? I'd hardly been myself."

"I thought you disliked the city, I was worried you were going to ask to part from us. Astarion disagreed though he wouldn't tell me his theory."

Halsin laughs a bit at that, and after all the desperation and apologizing, it was a welcome sound, "That was for the best I think."

"Perhaps. Were you really jealous of Gale?" You leer back at the idea, "he's nice and all but he really doesn't hold anything over you."

"I was not jealous of Gale just because you found him to be..nice and funny...there are plenty of nice and funny people here." He lies and looks away from you, which is how you can tell he's lying.

"Ah. I see." Your hands rest on his chest, "sorry I misunderstood then." You're grinning anyway. You swipe his hair off his forehead, and in that moment he decides he was fair to be jealous of Gale, even fleeting touches left him feeling lavished with attention.

"Let's clean off." He turns into your palm.

"Can I spend the night with you, in your tent?" You look up at him as you stand.

"Of course." He's smiling at you, another welcome change, "you don't need to ask. I'm here whenever you need me, call for me and I'll come." He leans down to you, "I'm sorry I didn't come to you sooner." His thumb traces the shell of your ear as you kiss.

"Don't worry now, you're dramatic." You chuckle into him, "would you really have died?"

"There was no sense in risking it." He lifts you by the back of your thighs and makes his way to the water with you, "better to be safe.”

[nicksbestie]

Dress - C. Sturniolo

Summary : AU where Chris is a frat boy, you're his girlfriend that he brings to their formal, and he's obsessed with the dress you chose.

Warnings : 16+ content. i am not responsible for the media you choose to consume online. smut, makeouts, p in v, fingering, overall very loving/sweet scene

Word Count : 3758

Pairing : Chris Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : @bratzforchris and i were discussing this idea... and so it was born! hope you enjoy!

You had sworn to yourself in high school that you were never going to be the person who was always at parties in college.

It wasn’t your scene, you weren’t going to be that reckless, and you didn’t like being around drunk people. You’d promised yourself and your family that you would be safe and responsible, and if you were to go out, you wouldn’t take things too far. So how did you end up in a frat house every weekend, drunk out of your mind, stumbling back home? The college pressure has gotten to you. You didn’t feel well, you were struggling in your classes, so you turned to the one thing that got you to get a normal amount of sleep, and that just happened to be passing out drunk way too often than you should have been.

It wasn’t helping you, but it was keeping you from having to think about it too much, because instead of laying awake in your dorm, staring at the ceiling until three in the morning, the taste of alcohol was coating your lips, and all you cared to think about was the next cup you were picking up. It didn’t even matter what was in it. As long as it wasn’t laced with anything, you would down it easily. You were going down a terrible path, and everyone who encountered you for more than a couple nights in a row could see that. Your roommate had tried to talk you out of going out so much, but you had ignored her, choosing to brush her advice to the side as you continued to do what you were doing. She had resorted to keeping you as safe as possible, knowing that she couldn’t control you, but she was always there after the parties, helping take care of you and making sure you got home safely.

She was there every morning after as well, holding your hair back when the alcohol hit you as soon as you woke up, helping you clean the makeup from the previous night off of your face. She would lay out medications for you, making sure you drank water to help soothe your unavoidable headache, and all of the care would come with a gentle reminder that you shouldn’t be doing this. You would always listen but never actually take it to heart, and luckily, she was still always there. She didn’t give up on you, but she knew pushing you could risk pushing you farther into the state you were already in, so she took care of you in all the ways that she could. But eventually, she wasn’t the only one doing so. You were always at the same frat house, so a lot of the boys knew you by your face, not much by your personality, or even by your name. There was one boy, however, who always made sure to have his eyes on you. 

Chris had noticed you since the first time you had ever showed up to a party hosted by his fraternity, and he wasn’t ashamed of it. You were beautiful, but he was way too drunk to approach you. His confidence was definitely increased by the alcohol, but he also knew from experience that hitting on a girl while he was wasted probably wasn’t the best choice, and he saw that you had someone with you, even though it was another girl. He had seen you every time you came into the frat house, and he had stayed sober solely for the reason of eventually talking to you. He noticed just how drunk you had been getting, and he kept his eyes on you so that if you needed help, he could be there. And eventually, his moment came. Your roommate hadn’t been there for you one night, because she didn’t know that you had come to a party this night, having had an evening class. So when you were basically stumbling down the front steps, he had rushed to make sure you didn’t fall. 

It had all started there. He walked you home that night, making sure that you were okay, and when you had slurred over the words that invited him in, he accepted, solely for the purpose of not leaving you drunk and alone. He knew how it could look, so he kept his distance, laughing with you and spending time with you until your roommate got home. When she did, she couldn’t deny that she was shocked to see someone she didn’t know sitting on her dorm floor, but Chris rushed to explain that he had only come in to make sure that you didn’t wander off the second that he left. He introduced himself, leaving as soon as he was sure that you were safe, and every time you returned to the frat house, he was making sure that you were always within his sight range. He walked you home multiple times after that, really getting to know your roommate, and they became good friends. 

The two of them combined had been the reason that you stopped partying so much. You still went out occasionally, but you were stone cold sober, and you only went to hang out with Chris. After a couple more weeks of this, Chris finally got the urge to ask you out, and you had accepted with a wide smile. It had been an amazing night, complete with him walking you home, having the route he had walked so many times memorized, dropping you off with a promise to see you the next day. You were infatuated with him, admiring the way he had kindly taken care of you for longer than you had ever noticed. He genuinely seemed like a good person, and he had taken everything so slow, knowing that you didn’t take very well to things moving quickly. He had been so supportive in your journey to get sober, and he and your roommate were everything to you. 

So that brought you to now, your roommate helping you curl your hair as you were getting ready for Chris’ fraternity formal. You had finally decided that you wanted to go to one of them, and your anxiety was racing, your heart pounding in your chest. When you had really begun to get to know Chris, you realized just how popular he really was, an incredible contrast to your social life. You weren’t a nobody, but you certainly weren’t one of the people who was recognized in every class you stepped in, giving out high fives in the hallways, and having hundreds of people show up to your parties because they wanted a chance at speaking to you. However, he never let the popularity get to his head, and that was one of the things that you loved the most about him. He was genuinely a good person, but dating someone who was so popular as being someone who was not still made your heart sink. 

People knew you were friends with Chris, but they didn’t know that you were dating him. The only people who knew that you and Chris were dating were you, Chris, and your roommate, as you had kept it very under wraps. You weren’t going to lie, you had heard some of the drunk comments that the frat brothers in Chris’ fraternity had made about him hanging out with you, and sometimes they stung, so you hadn’t come out about the true nature of your relationship with him. Chris had understood, and had no problem keeping it between your close group, knowing that regardless of who knew about the two of you, you were still his girl, so the approval of other people didn’t matter to him. You were a hopeless romantic, and Chris really was everything that you had ever dreamed of, but you were also a firm believer in the fact that relationships flourished better when they were quieter. 

This was the first time that you were going out publicly as a couple. You had actually suggested it, knowing that Chris had asked a couple of times if you would ever consider it, and originally, you had said no. But now, you felt like you were ready, feeling like as long as you were with your boyfriend, it didn’t matter what anybody else thought or said about you. It may be cheesy, but you had the people who mattered to you the most, and everybody else could deal with it. Chris had been over the moon when he heard your decision, excited to take you out, and knowing that you would look absolutely stunning in whatever you chose to wear. Your roommate was careful not to burn you with the curling iron, touching up your makeup for you before leaving the bathroom to pull your dress off of the hanger, handing it to you for you to slip on. You zipped it up as far as you could, it catching on the fabric near the top, so you stepped out of the bathroom to have your roommate finish zipping it up for you. She smiled as soon as she saw you.

“You look beautiful, babe. Chris is going to lose his mind.” 

You smiled back, turning around so she could help.

“Do you mind? I couldn’t get it all the way up.” 

“Of course not!” 

The second she went to finish zipping your dress, there was a knock at the door. Your dress was zipped up enough to stay perfectly positioned on you, so she went to open the door, smiling when she saw Chris. 

“Oh, you should let him do it. Come on in, she’s almost ready.” 

Chris stepped into the room, immediately seeing you as soon as he got through the doorway. His jaw seemed to hit the floor, eyes widening as he took in your appearance. 

“Baby, you’re stunning.” 

You smiled at him, waving him over. 

“Can you finish zipping up my dress?”

He nodded, immediately moving behind you and making sure that he didn’t pinch your skin as he slid the zipper up to the top of the slit of your dress. He noticed the dress was backless, and he would’ve lied if anyone had pointed out that his hands were shaking. He couldn’t believe that he had gotten so incredibly lucky. He didn’t know what he had done in one of his past lives to deserve such a perfect person in his life, but he would do it a million times over if it meant that he got to have you for eternity. You sat down in your desk chair to put on your heels, and when you were struggling a little bit, he didn’t hesitate to crouch down and help you, since your dress was making it difficult for you to see the straps on them. He stood back up, offering you his hand, and pulled you into a kiss the second you were steadily on your feet. He smiled, pulling back, eyes looking directly into yours.

“You’re gorgeous. I got so lucky.” 

You smiled, playing with the lapels of his tuxedo.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” 

It was at this point that your roommate rolled her eyes, coughing to get you to acknowledge the fact that she was still here.

“Alright, break it up, or get out of here. Go have fun, okay?” 

She pulled you into a hug, whispering a reminder to be safe, as well as a reminder that she was so happy and proud of you. Before you left, she threatened Chris that if anything happened to you, she would murder him, before you pulled him out of the door, yelling back at her to stop scaring off your dates. The walk to the fraternity house was a good time for you and Chris to spend some quiet moments together. The sun had slowly started to go down, but it was still warm enough out for you to really enjoy it all. Your anxiety was fading as you walked with him, knowing that he wouldn’t let anybody do anything to hurt you. You tried to completely squash all the remnants of your anxiety, reminding yourself that you’re going to go enjoy a party with your best friend and your boyfriend all in one, and you were going to remember it this time.

You would be a liar to say that you didn’t feel the eyes on you, that you didn’t hear some people whispering about you, but most people were very kind, a lot of the other girls at the party complimenting how beautiful your dress looked. Chris reminded you every two minutes that you looked gorgeous, placing a kiss on your head or lips every thirty seconds. It really was one of the best times you had ever experienced at a fraternity house, and you were completely sober to enjoy it all. You were on such a high from having a good time with your boyfriend that you felt like you could be drunk, like nothing could bring you down, like nothing else mattered. Walking out of the party a little early, wanting to enjoy the rest of the night privately, you two began the walk to a common green on your campus. You checked your phone, smiling when you saw a text from your roommate. 

bestie <3 : i’m staying at my boyfriend’s tonight. figured you guys would want some alone time. i  love you!

You showed it to Chris, noting the way he smiled at you, laughing at his boyish reaction. You spent a little more time with each other, enjoying the general peace of each other’s presence, before getting up to go home. Walking back to your dorm, giggling like school children, with your hands clasped together, you felt like there could be nothing better than this. Confirming that Chris was with you as you entered the dorm building, you both moved quickly up the stairs, you having to pause to unlock the door. He pulled you into a kiss as you entered, shutting the door behind the two of you as you both stumbled towards your bed. You were standing in front of it, breaking the kiss to breathe, and to take your shoes off, as Chris’ hands now had one holding your side, and one toying with the top of your zipper.

“Can I take this off?” 

You nodded, kissing him passionately before answering.

“I only bought it for you to take it off.”

You could feel the shaky breath than left his mouth against your lips as he fumbled with the zipper slightly, finally getting it and gently but firmly pulling it down. The straps of your dress loosened around your shoulders but didn’t fall, right on the edge of slipping off, and you felt warm hands move up and slide them down, removing your dress completely as he helped you step out of it. You hadn’t needed to wear a bra with this dress, since it had internal padding, and you could hear another breath leave your boyfriend, though this time it wasn’t shaky, and instead, was one of awe. He’d seen your body before, as you’d changed with him near multiple times, and this wouldn’t be the first time that you had slept with each other, but Chris would swear that you got more beautiful the more he saw you. He adored you, every part, and he tipped your head back so that he could start placing blooming bruises on your neck, loving the way you reacted to his motions. 

Your knees eventually went weak, sitting down on the edge of the bed before the two of you moved fully onto it, albeit slightly ungracefully. You weren’t very adventurous people, keeping your nights together quite simple, as Chris hovered over you, placing kisses down your chest. You pulled him off only to remove his clothes, nearly tearing them in the process. Chris’ fingers played with the hem of your underwear, slowly removing them from your legs, continuing his trail of marks all the way down to your lower stomach, right above where you were growing desperate for his touch. You lifted your hips, a small gasp leaving your lips as he gently sucked another hickey, this time on your inner thigh. He left a couple more, running the tips of his fingers over your clit, alternating gentle taps on it to listen to your pretty whimpers. When you raised your hips again, whispering a plea for him to stop teasing, he took mercy on you, moving back up to kiss you again.

He smiled against your lips as he swallowed the moan that left your lips as he used his lips to heighten the pleasure of the firm movements and pressure on your clit, caused by his thumb. He messily made out with you, making the transition from simply touching you to fingering you, starting with just one, warming you up, loving the sounds you were making, feeling them vibrate against his mouth. It wasn’t long until your hips were pushing back to meet every movement he made, and he pushed in a second finger, beginning to curl them as he detached your lips, wanting to hear all the noises leaving your mouth. He didn’t stop moving his fingers, loving how beautiful you looked when your eyes were fluttering shut, your head slightly tipped back, and your back beginning to arch. He smiled at you, kissing your neck again.

“God, baby, you’re soaked.” 

You whined at his words, a little bit louder than you would have liked to, and Chris quieted you down by kissing you again, increasing the speed of his fingers, feeling your hips lift against his. It took all of his effort not to grind down against your touch, kissing you harder. He swallowed every moan and whimper that left your mouth, enjoying just how reactive you were. He kept his ministrations going until he felt you clenching around him, pulling off of your mouth to hear your moans quickly rise in pitch, before removing his touch. You whined, pushing your hips down to try and chase the feeling, but he didn’t let you.

“I want you to cum on my dick, not around my fingers.” 

You pulled his body impossibly closer to you, feeling him push his boxers down to relieve some of the immense tension in his pants. He removed them as quickly as possible, adjusting how he was on top of you, a hand coming up to run his thumb along the side of your face, holding your jaw, admiring just how pretty you were under him. He’d seen this sight before, but he would never get tired of it. He brought his hand back down to rub at your clit, giving you pleasure to distract from the slight pain of him slowly pushing into you. He kissed you deeply, not daring to move faster than you were ready for. He let out a deep groan when he bottomed out, feeling you echo a moan against his lips. He stayed as still as possible, fighting the urge to bury himself in you, giving you as much time as you needed to adjust to the stretch. As soon as you gave him the okay to move, his breathing was shaky, overwhelmed by just how good you felt around him.

“Oh my god, baby.”

You could only whimper in response, the drag of his cock against every perfect spot bringing you to tears of pleasure. You felt full, your sweet spot being abused as he slowly built up his pace, gaining speed. He was groaning into the side of your neck, his hips building a steady rhythm as you fell apart on his dick. He knew exactly what angle to hit, bringing back the stimulation on your clit. As he did so, he felt you tighten around him for a split second, gasping at the unexpected pleasure that rode through him, his hips jerking of their own accord before returning to the rhythm he had set for the two of you. As his perfectly angled thrusts gained a little bit more speed, you could feel your orgasm swirling in the pit of your stomach, what felt like a coil crunching down and getting ready to snap. Chris knew the signs of you being on the edge, and he added more pressure to your clit, feeling the way you were beginning to consistently clench around him, speaking into your ear.

“So good for me, baby, make me feel so good-” 

His voice broke against your ear, a whimper of his own slipping through as the rhythm of his hips began to falter. The praise that he kept trying to speak, the breathless “good girl” that slipped from his lips, did it for you. Your finish felt like it knocked the wind out of you, tightening around Chris’ dick, back arching harshly as you cried out his name. He completely lost control at this, hips desperately jerking as he chased his own release, you whining as you felt it inside of you. He was breathing heavily, but so were you, as you basked in the glow of your orgasms. After a couple of minutes, he slowly pulled out, whispering apologies as you winced in sensitivity. He kissed you to distract you, before grabbing some of the wipes off of your nightstand and beginning to gently wipe the evidence of your night off of your legs. You were exhausted from the party and now the sex, mustering up the energy to speak.

“I love you.” 

He pulled back, smiling at you.

“I love you more. Let me take care of you, okay?” 

His aftercare was short but sweet, rubbing your legs so that they hopefully wouldn’t ache too much in the morning, carrying you to the bathroom where he sat you down on the toilet, gently helping you and himself clean off with a damp washcloth after you peed. You were both spent, and a shower could wait until the morning, but at least this way you weren’t tired and gross. He had you back in bed quickly, but not before helping you into some soft clothes. He had a couple pairs of sweats, boxers, and shirts at your dorm, so he pulled clothing back on, pulling you into his arms and kissing the top of your head. You laid in comfortable silence before he spoke, the last thing that would be said before you fell asleep.

“I love that dress.”

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for kicking my boyfriend out because he keeps using my toothbrush?

🪥 (to find later)

I (25)F share an apartment with my boyfriend (23)M. my boyfriend is the crazy environmentalist type (he insists on only buying secondhand clothes, he times both of our showers and gets mad if I go over the limit, he only takes the bus or rides his bike even though it takes SO much longer and his parents offered to buy him a car and they can totally afford it. I’ve tried to convince him to tone it all done multiple times but he refuses to budge and I just put up with it because other than that he’s a pretty good guy and we have a lot of mutual friends). Recently he’s decided that toothbrushes- of all things- are super unsustainable and he wants to share one. I think this is disgusting and I’ve told him that, but he keeps using mine. On top of that he brushes his teeth really hard and it ruins the bristles which means I have to go buy more toothbrushes which upsets him even more. I even bought him some fancy “sustainable” bamboo toothbrushes in an attempt to compromise but he wont touch them. A couple nights ago I went to go brush my teeth after a having a really long day and I found MY toothbrush super frayed and lying on the gross counter even though we have one of those toothbrush holders on the mirror. I’m ashamed to admit that I completely lost it and starting yelling about how that this was the last straw and I was tired of his “environmentalist bullshit” and that I wanted him out of the apartment immediately. Long story short he packed up most of his stuff and left to go stay with his parents (which I find super satisfying because he’s mentioned multiple times how he thinks its embarrassing that his 19 year old brother still lives at home). I blocked him on everything and then yesterday he came to the door banging and yelling about “wanting his lizard back” (which he apparently forgot when he left). For context: It was his lizard when we moved in but I’ve ended up doing all the work (cleaning the cage, feeding it, replacing broken heat lamps, etc) because he always claims he’s “too busy” to do it. So I told him I’m keeping the lizard because I know he’ll take terrible care of it anyways.

I was talking to one of our mutual friends afterwards (who apparently talked to him first) and she thinks that I’m being unreasonable. So, am I the asshole?

[melrodrigo]

The Other Side Of The Door - V.C.

Vada Cavell x Fem!Reader

Summary: Vada’s been a questionable girlfriend lately, and you’ve decided you’ve had enough.

Warnings: Angst, Vada is kinda toxic in this, mentions of drinking

Word Count: 1.2k+

A/N: Inspired by TOSOTD by miss t-swizzle herself. I hope u angst monsters r happy, I don’t write angst very often. Also! Did not proofread this, sorry bout that

“Leave.” You say, face stoney and eyes narrowed. You ignore the voice inside of you that says this is a terrible idea.

Your girlfriend blinks back at you, taken aback by the venom in your voice.

Her expression changes from happy to crestfallen in a second, and it takes everything in you to not immediately take back what you’ve just said.

“What is this about?” She asks, eyes wide.

The minute your girlfriend had waltzed into your room, whistling to her favorite Juice Wrld song, she had been met with the sight of you sitting on your bed, arms crossed.

“What is this about? Are you kidding, Vada?” You seethe, too pissed to have any sort of filter anymore.

She gulps.

“How about it’s about the countless times I’ve had to drag you back home because you were drunk shitless, doing god knows what with god knows who, without any explanation whatsoever.” You’re standing up now, sizing Vada up.

“It’s about the amount of times you’ve ignored me this whole week, never answering texts, never picking up my calls. Am I even your girlfriend anymore?” You press, rambling as if everything that’s been pent up inside you for weeks stars spilling out all at once.

Your girlfriend pales as you monologue, eyes darting to lock on anything but your face.

“But-“ She opens her mouth and closes it a couple times, searching for something to say.

You cut her off quickly. Unwillingly to let her have any say in this.

“Quite frankly, I’ve had enough. So if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to leave.” You tell her, pretending you don’t see the way her eyes are starting to water.

She’s as still as a statue for a good minute or two, contemplating what she wants to do. You can practically see the cogs turning in her brain.

One more glare from you has her rushing out your room and downstairs. You can’t help the pang in your chest as you watch her leave. After everything, you still want her to stay.

Stupid girl and the grip she has on me.

Nothing quells your bad mood for the rest of the night. You spend dinner shooting back one word responses to your mom’s inquiries, irritable.

You tuck yourself into bed, check your phone for a message from anyone—okay, maybe you wanted to see if Vada had said anything, but nothing. You huff and pull the sheets over your body, closing your eyes shut and forcing sleep to have its way with you.

-

Somehow, in the morning, you wake up even more annoyed. Whenever you’ve had fights with Vada before, the morning after she’d be all over you; begging for forgiveness and blowing up your phone.

You’re ashamed to admit you like the attention.

Today, nothing. Not a single call or text from your normally oh so talkative girlfriend.

As the day goes on, you start feeling mournful. Regret courses deep through you. You sit and stew in your feelings until you can’t think of anything else.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said all that.

It’s a sad Sunday that’s spent with you staring at cute photographs you’d taken with her months prior, and jumping at the sound of any notification. It’s pathetic, but you need her. You don’t remember how long it’s been since you and Vada have had a day apart.

You’re stuck. You miss her so much, but your stupid pride won’t allow you to text first, or to go find her, because what would you even do? You’d been the one to apologize first too many times. This time, you decide it’s going to be up to Vada.

You sleuth around for the rest of your Sunday. When you finish dinner and storm to your room, your turmoil has turned into spite.

“If you don’t call in the next 5 minutes I swear I’m breaking up with you.” You hiss to the phone, staring intently at Vada’s profile picture, as if she’s just going to pop out of the phone by sheer will of you wanting her there.

After a minute of this, you set the phone down and take a deep breath. You turn your phone on do not disturb and pick up a book. All this drama has you feeling like you need to reconnect with nature a bit.

It’s a book Vada herself had recommended you, which was funny, since your girlfriend barely read shit. You hate to admit she has good taste. You glide through the pages easily, happy for a distraction.

Minutes turn into hours, and before long, you notice that the light is starting to dim down and the sun is starting to set. You also hear the tiny pitter-patter of rain hitting the roof.

You get up and walk to your window, face still buried in your book, and gently ease it open, hoping to find some comfort in the fresh air and smell of wet grass.

What you get is not that. A pebble, the size of your pinky comes hurling, too fast for even your reflexes to react.

It hits you smack dab in the face, making you loosen your grip on the book and dropping it. You groan, rubbing the part of your nose that stings. You hear a tiny oh shit below you and you peer out your window so fast it gives you whiplash.

The sight of Vada standing in the rain, her hair messy and her bike discarded on your tiny front yard brings out a lot of mixed emotions in you.

Finally. Goddamn, finally.

She looks sheepish as she speaks. “I’m sorry!” She squeaks. “I didn’t mean to hit you- I swear. I was just trying to do one of those huge romantic gestures where the guy gets the girls attention by throwing pebbles at her window ya know? But it ended up being kinda fun and I didn’t see you when I threw that one-“ She says, speaking so fast you can barely understand her.

When you don’t answer, it’s almost like Vada remembers what she came here for. She straightens up, wiping her palms on her loose graphic tee.

“I’m sorry. I really am. If you would hear me out, I’ll explain everything. I promise. I’m sorry for not coming to my senses earlier, and I’m sorry for not paying you enough attention. I love you, I’m in love with you; you know that. More than anything.” She yells, almost screams so you can hear her clearly.

You feel your walls crumble immediately. How were you going to deny your sweet, loving, albeit sort of confusing girlfriend of your love? It was no use. She always wins when it comes to you.

You sigh.

Vada waits patiently, shifting on her feet and shivering slightly from the cold.

You gesture for her to come in with your hand, and you have to stop yourself from laughing at the joy that sparks across her face immediately.

She sprints in, saying a quick hello to your mom- who probably heard everything, and runs up the stairs, practically tackling you onto your own bedroom floor.

She’s soaked, and you can already feel the water seeping through your own shirt, but you don’t care. Vada’s wrapped herself tight around you, like a baby koala. She’s trembling slightly, and you notice she’s crying.

You place your hand on top of her head, rubbing gently. You murmur sweet nothings into her ear.

She tilts her head up to look at you, eyes all red and puffy. She looks so pretty like this.

“I missed you so much.” She gushes.

You grin lazily, happy to have your girlfriend back in your arms.

“I missed you too, baby.”

[emperor-kumquat]

Fandom, WTF

It's not just X; it could happen here too. My fucking god, a Transformers YouTuber almost did the unspeakable last night because of cyberbullying. Because people who claim they are being heroic are doing such terrible things. And they do it so damn fast.

(The YouTuber is more stable and safe at the moment)

You don't need to know the exact details, but the person made a post on X that was a little iffy. Not discriminatory to anyone, not an inappropriate picture or anything. The kind of thing that SHOULD have led to a discussion to change his opinion. And that's what the some other YouTubers and I did, we talked to him, and he regretted his words and changed his mind. Just like that. So fucking easy.

He wanted to write an apology and tell everyone he understood the issue now, but he was struggling to. His account was reported and suspended over and over. In the end, he did manage to write that apology on X and tell people he changed his opinion. That kind of thing can happen when we act patiently and try to guide people! But before then, other people were DMing him madly on Discord and X to say horrible shit, show gore, tell him to die. People were photoshopping a convicted criminal's face onto his profile pic. Friends severed ties without even talking to him. People doxxed him and someone left him a threatening phone call.

These people probably loved the excuse to do it. They would happily slap a label on someone then act dramatic about it. They pile on the hate because "that creator deserves it", they think.

How can you do any of the above and think you are a good person??

What on Earth happened to giving people the benefit of the doubt? Out of all the ways a statement could be interpreted, why do people choose the most negative instead of the most positive? When drama hits and your friend is involved, how can you leave without at least hearing the other side of the story? How can you forget that you may be harassing someone who has mental health or is neurodivergent?

It's like people love being mad. They want to put a bad label on someone, like some kind of "_ist", "_phobe", or a "p*do". They don't need much evidence before attacking. Here on Tumblr a while back, some people very eagerly wanted to harass me. They called me transphobic. The reality they didn't care to find out: I am trans, I make trans activist videos, I go on the front lines countering anti-trans protests in Canada while getting screamed at by conservatives for hours. Get real. If you are so quick to hate someone and label them, you were probably just eager to misinterpret anything they said to get a chance to be angry. You don't know them and you are not a sensible, fair person. They act like a pack of wolves if they can tell themselves it's justified. It is NOT justified. They should be ashamed. They are just bullies hiding behind a hero’s mask.

[alastor-simp-page]

I am in Love with Charlastor

Look at these cuties walking through cannibal town arm in arm. THEY ARE SO CUTE! HE'S SUCH A GENTLEMAN! OPENING THE DOOR FOR HER!! AHAHAHAHHAA

No kidding. You know what I'm done dancing around the daunting Charlastor ship. I'm just gonna do it.

Shoot me some prompts if you would like. But I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna write it. It might be terrible BUT LETS DO IT! Starting with one-shots first, ha. I'm not that confident to plunge headfirst into a Charlastor fic YET.

I don't know why I love Charlastor. I think I love it more than RadioApple. It just has that exciting feeling to it. Two people on opposite sides of everything: the pessimist and the optimist (Obviously Charlie). The one who wouldn't hurt a fly and the one who would kill someone if they looked at them the wrong way. Charlie's smiles are sincere and she wears them all the time. Alastor's smiles are a way to deceive his enemies and he wears them all the time. The absolute sweetheart and the tall dark brooding psychotic gentleman. And for some reason they look so DAMN GOOD TOGETHER! And the ship is even more spicy because Lucifer despises Alastor.

I am not ashamed to admit it: I love the dramatics. Charlie and Alastor are meant for the stage. Why not have their lives together be a twisting turning show? (I do not want this in real life) ITS ROMANCE! GIVE ME THE DRAMA! GIVE ME THE ANGST!

Okay one more gif:

Side note its random but Its Always Sunny in Philadelphia is a FIRE SHOW! Oh ha I just realized Charlie is in this gif too. SEE CHARLIE SUPPORTS ME! CHARLIE MORNINGSTAR (Not Charlie Kelly) BELONGS WITH ALASTOR!

Damn it, I'm yapping on tumblr when I should be writing.

[irenadel]

And if the devil… 10/10

Aemond Targaryen X Maid!Reader TW: For the aftermath of DV Thank you to @barbieaemond for letting me use her beautiful gifs to make this lovely fic banner. As promised am tagging @prettyduckling22

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

It is raining heavily when the queen finds you. The lantern she holds aloft barely lets her and her father see you and they dare not come any closer. Her son’s dragon is wide awake, making a dreadful rumbling sound somewhere deep in her gullet. There is a soft, hazy glow all along the beast’s underbelly, like dying embers, like a fire you make the mistake of considering dead.

Alicent feels like her entire body has been turned to lead, soft and infinitely heavy. She hears her father hold his breath and knows, at least, she is not alone in her terror.

He does not leave her. He holds her shoulders steady and Alicent is grateful for that.

“Aemond…”

When Vhagar picks her head from the ground, moves it like Alicent imagines avalanches must move, she is still making that wrathful, rumbling sound. The ground shakes with it. Her legs feel like they will not carry her weight and she wants to weep, like a child, when the dragon opens her mouth to breathe hot and humid and carrion-like upon her.

She wonders if this was the last thing her son saw with both eyes, before that terrible night where it had all begun to go wrong.

“Try again,” her father whispers in her ear. Always try again. Never a moment’s rest.

“Aemond please,” she croaks out, the feeble light of her lantern trembling in the wind. “I’ll be quick.”

The dragon makes another noise and Alicent finds it to be the most awful of all, for she feels it, to the bottom of her belly, a heavy, nauseous weight, a near human moan of pain. When Vhagar cocks her massive head to better look at her, Alicent nearly cries in fear until she sees those eyes. Always they had seemed beady and lizard-like to her, predatory and unknowable, but now they just seem miserably tired.

For a moment she feels ashamed.

I trusted you with him, the ancient, watery eyes of the dragon Vhagar seem to say to her. I trusted you with him and always you have failed me. First the eye and now this…

She breathes the words between near-clenched teeth and it is a wonder to her that the dragon seems to understand as she turns from her and to her father behind her. She advances without him, without even looking back at him, unable to explain the price of going under the great dragon Vhagar’s wings to him.

He would not have paid it anyway. He has never paid it for her.

When she finds you and her son laying against the wall of stinking, warm scales she almost pays it again. She covers her mouth and traps the words behind her fingers. 

I’m sorry, she wants to repeat, but finds she cannot. Not when confronted with her son’s bloodied face years ago, not now that he doesn’t look at her, you in his arms, wrapped in his green cloak, kept warm by dragonfire, dry by one leathery wing held close to the dragon’s body. She barely recognizes you in the gloom under Vhagar’s shadow. Ugly, scrawny thing that you had been. Remarkable only for your strange coloring and the princess’s favor. You had made Helaena happy and thus the queen had tolerated your ill manners. You had been smart and obedient and made yourself scarce when you had become a problem and Alicent had been grateful for the discretion if for nothing else.

Now she feels ill looking at the blood upon your dress. She cannot tell much else with her single lantern’s light and she almost doesn’t dare whisper it: “Is she alive?”

Aemond’s hand stops, halfway through caressing your short, matted hair. There’s dried blood all over one side of your face, your temple and cheek having already swollen black and blue. Your eyes are closed, your hand holding onto the prince’s neck is swollen too, white-knuckled and clenched.

He still does not look at her.

“You can leave now,” he answers and Alicent does not know his voice in that moment. Wants to shake some sense into him as she has done to his brother so many times. A man’s voice, with a petulant boy’s demand.

“She needs a maester, Aemond,” she tries again, not even knowing if it would not just be wiser to let this all die down. Let things take their natural course and help her son mourn, later, once the danger is over.

Aemond is speaking to you, low and gentle, in a soft, kind tone Alicent hasn’t heard from him since he had both eyes. Some of it must be High Valyrian, the rest Alicent cannot recognize. There is a cadence to it, like music. Through it, she hears Vhagar howl again, sees the pebbles on the floor jump with the monstrous vibration of it all and knows she cannot.

Who knows what would be left of her boy if she lets him lose one more thing?

“I’ll bring the maester here,” she capitulates, kneeling down besides the two of you, just to get a better look at you. A fever, she feels when she dares put her hand on your ruined cheek. But you breathe at least. When she gets up to leave, she feels the tug of her son’s hand on her wrist, terrifyingly strong and uncaring, but is glad that he should at least look at her now.

“It was a lost babe,” he says, his voice that of a man, she realizes now, because all emotion is gone from it. Alicent’s heart turns to ice. “A beating and a punch to the gut.”

She had not fled Vhagar when the hoary old thing had turned to her, but she flees her son now. You and her son.

Things have a price, the septons had said sometimes, when she was young and naughty and free. She thinks of Aemma Arryn and her own four living children. She thinks of her daughter, white-faced and grim in spite of the healthy, beautiful babe she had borne. When she ignores her father’s imprecations, when she drags a young and discrete maester to the seaside cliff where Vhagar nests, when together they try to pry you from Prince Aemond’s arms and succeed only in getting him to carry you gently, ever so gently, back to the Red Keep, she thinks of the price of things.

An apology she will never speak to her child but only to his dragon.

A girl’s life. A boy’s soul.

She is done letting her son pay the price and she tells her father as much. He can handle the gossip and the angry lords. It matters little. If he cannot, then perhaps her son’s dragon will.

The prince waits.

He watches a young, redhead maester unstick the clothes off your body and sponge the blood off your skin. Grand Maester Mellos is too important to bother with you.

He listens and seethes. His mother behind him, eyes moist, looking to him though he cannot answer them.

The young maester tells you the blows to the head are the most worrisome. That and your coming cold. He does not use the word babe when he says there should be no lasting damage, it was an early pregnancy. He gives you willow bark tea for the pain and makes you sweat out the rest of your fever. Rest and food should put you to rights, he says to you. He speaks only to you, firm but gentle, not to the prince standing besides your bed, sword-straight and impassive. He is too cautious and well-mannered to let more than pursed-lips betray his anger at whatever royal mistreatment has befallen you. He has no qualms in telling you to call him if you were to have need of moontea, even with the queen and prince balefully looming over him and his patient. Aemond almost likes him.

The queen tries once to suggest moving you out of the prince’s quarters. She does not try again.

The prince waits.

He will allow no servants to tend to you, no one but the queen and maester. When necessary, he will change the linens on his bed himself while you sleep, the way you had taught him to do with his own royal father. It frightens him, how deep your slumber is.

The prince sleeps as close to you as he dares, curled up like a dog at the foot of his own bed. He crawls in it when you are asleep, unwilling to give you the chance to chase him away, soaking up your lingering warmth, too ashamed to ask for it, too desperate to forgo it entirely. He almost thinks he need not bother.

Because the prince waits and still you will not speak.

Your face has gone from black to green to a sickly yellow. You sit in a prince’s bed. You eat the bread he gives you and drink the stew he spoons into your mouth. Sip the warm tea he brings you while you stare at the sheets and say nothing.

Aemond is too miserably aware of how low he is willing to stoop for your voice to attempt speaking to you himself. He has considered it all. Shaking it out of you, with a shout and a curse. Dragging his brother to this room and killing him for you, for himself. Bringing his sister here. Her children. Taking you in his arms again and taking you to Vhagar, flying across the sea, to anywhere that will make you speak again… smile again…

You are slipping from his hands, as far away as you were during those first few days when he would skulk outside closed doors and steal away snippets of your voice, low and husky, singing foreign nonsense to his niece and nephew.

But he is too tired now to summon the outrage he used to feel, at you owning comfort he could not reach.

So the prince waits… until he can wait no more.

“Please,” he says to you, as you sit and stare. “Please…”

You still say nothing. But you do look at him. You reach for his hand and he lets you have it, for as many hours as you need it, even as it grows numb in your grasp. You hold its warmth to your belly, as if the blood of the dragon could thaw the cold residing in there now.

He looks at your glassy eyes, your white-knuckled hand and his own on your belly and he knows what he must do. He should have done it long ago, the first time he had ever seen the blood on your split lip, the bruises on your pale skin. He should have known better than to let himself be distracted by the beauty they revealed to him. He kisses your forehead before he does, trying not to tremble at the brief taste of your skin. He is a man starving, with hunger’s implacable ruthlessness.

When he returns, he drops your cousin’s severed hand upon your lap. The hand that took a prince’s son from him. Prince Aemond One-Eye himself, a bruise of his own on his face, hair wild, eyepatch and dignity forgotten. What he will never forget again is the sound a man makes when Valyrian steel cuts through his flesh and bone.

You do not understand. For a moment you are so stunned and angry it knocks the numbness right out of your lungs. You look at your prince, watch him fall to his knees, lay his head on your lap, besides your flesh and blood, and almost forget to make sense of the words when they come out of him. Westerosi is only your second tongue after all.

“I would have you sing again,” he says with the hoarse rawness of a man who has just discovered all his cruelty to be bravado. “I would have you laugh again.”

And it is awful, to think Aemond would not know that there is no blood that could buy back your soul. Awful but not surprising, that he should not know pain and sorrow could only beget more of themselves. You had known this of him, the first time you had ever seen a sapphire hiding pain. You try not to think of Angus, still a boy, still as much a boy as Prince Aemond himself. You try not to think of what a hand means to a working man and not to a prince. You try not to think of the bridges he has burnt or the ties he has severed for you forever more, when he severed tendon and marrow.

Because if you start thinking of it, you will find yourself fiercely glad that he did.

You will find within your breast a cry of vicious triumph, that sounds to your mind like a Dothraki screamer. Nothing that could ever bring you comfort. Nothing that could ever pay for the death of your dreams, or your hopes, or your love for a boy who had been your boy until he wasn’t.

Nothing that would help.

But still, Aemond had done it for you. Useless, the mother you had barely known had called it in the far reaches of your memory, when men beat their breasts and swear death to you.

Useless perhaps, but he had done it for you.

He lets out a sob when your hand runs through his hair.

“You have no coin,” you say to him and he near cries in relief at the sound of your voice. “To buy back my joy. There is no joy left for me in the world. I have nothing.”

You’ve taken it all from me, you do not say. With black steel and my kinsman’s blood. No hope now, to go back home.

Good.

You think of getting up and not looking back. You think of sailing the poison water and finding your way back to the land of your father, to endless grass and sun-baked earth. You see life unfurling before you, empty and safe. A man maybe. A strong rider who would give you strong children instead of moontea and grief. Small, boring children that do not eat your insides with fangs and claws and fire.

Aemond burrows his face into your lap and crushes your borrowed shift and sheets in his bloodied hands.

You know you cannot. You have no home left but him.

“You’ve nothing I want, Aemond One-Eye. Nothing to pay me with but one thing.”

You see him whip his head off the bed to look at you, the nightmares and dread written clearly on a face too young and beautiful to bear them, warring now with desperate hope. You take this face into your hands, this face you have cherished and cursed, and hold it close to yours, grip tight enough to keep your hands from shaking.

“You,” you breathe and he reaches back for you, hands flying to your neck and gripping you as close as you grip him, choking back a cry of savage joy. “You are the only thing I will ever want again. The only coin I will take. I have nothing but you, nothing. So you will pay me with your life. Swear to me… swear you’ll live forever.”

Easy promise for a king’s son, you think. Easy to think you would go first, of toil or hunger or sorrow. As long as he lived it would be alright.

“I swear,” he answers as he lets you taste the tears off his lips. “Forever.”

I almost cannot grasp I am done with this. It's been consuming my life for the last couple of months. I've been virtually possessed by the idea and I am just glad I was able to surf the wave until I could finish it. Extra chapter and all. I think I've got a couple more Aemond porn one-shots in me that I've started and will probably try to finish. Some Helaemond X Reader and some Aegond X Reader if anyone wants to hear a little bit more of this verse... or at least the shoddy AU I have to conjure to get the pretty Targaryen people to fuck without killing each other. Thank you so much to everyone who commented and left likes. ...not that I will ever admit to obsessively refreshing AO3 and tumblr for likes but yeah... You guys are the best T_T thank you