#all the people you hate or disagree with or yell at will still all be here after your glorious revolutionary political change

[ouidamforeman]

it actually doesnt matter what your political beliefs are. if u yell at people online especially people who are largely allies with only nuanced differences in opinion OR people you will not change the minds of you are just acting like a not very good person and you are not good at activism OR community building lol

[comicaurora]

When creating art, how do you deal with the fact that seemingly everyone's opinions and tastes are completely individual? Like, how do you make good art, when around 40-50% of what even is "good art" changes from person to person? Sure, we have points we can all agree, but I'm baffled by how three people can agree and disagree on the same pieces of media. I can like movies A and B, and feel like they're very alike, but a friend might love B and hate A and another friend thinks the opposite.

The confusion is because "good" is being used to mean several different things:

To My Personal Taste. If you like a piece of art, you could very easily describe it as good just because you had a good time with it.

Well Put Together. If a story is well-crafted, lacking in plotholes or contrivances, broadly carefully woven, makes sense the more you think about it, etc - you could deem it to be good because it's been put together well. If a work of art looks good, the light sources and shadows make sense with one another, the colors work well together, the composition has clarity, the anatomy is correct - then the work was put together competently and skillfully, and could be called good for this reason.

Objective Quality. When people describe a movie as good, this is usually what they are trying to judge. Whether an objective judgment can be rendered on something as subjective as art is something people have been yelling about for centuries. In my estimation, the quality of a work has to be judged based on what the artist was going for and how close their execution was to that goal. An attempt at photorealism might be seen as "objectively bad" if it doesn't look photorealistic.

And by the same token, "bad" can mean a BUNCH of different things:

Bad Because I Had A Bad Time

Bad Because It Didn't Deliver What I Expected From It

Bad Because It Hit Me With A Personal Dealbreaker

Bad Because I Couldn't Take It Seriously

Bad Because It Didn't Make Sense To Me

Bad Because It Said Something I Really Disagreed With

And many more. This is why I think it's helpful to unpack a story further than just "is it good or bad" because those judgments are almost always concealing a more interesting personal analysis. There are stories I find highly ineffective that are still professionally well-crafted and accomplishing the creator's goals. There are stories I enjoy the hell out of that are weighed down by ropey characterization and dubious values. It's usually more effective, in my experience, to narrow in and identify what parts of a work are working for you, and what parts aren't clicking.

[theoldsports]

SHITHEAD.

Art Donaldson x Reader.

warnings: a lot of them. 18+, slapping, begging, major angst, brat!Art, an argument with make up sex. Art is really manipulative because… he is a bit and we all know it. [Y/N] is very ill-tempered too. it’s dirty.

can be a part ii to SPONTANEOUS, or read as a standalone. this is my favorite piece of writing i have published on this account.

The bed was empty beside [Y/N]. She stared at Art’s empty side of the bed. The soft green sheets and mix-matched pillowcases went unoccupied. Not because he wasn’t home, but because [Y/N] hated Art so he had to sleep downstairs on the couch.

It wasn’t that she really hated Art. She did hate him right now. Not in a funny way. Their drive home had been silent. Poor Art didn’t know how to facilitate conversation that wouldn’t worsen the situation. His sorrowful eyes, but honest eyes kept glancing from the road to where [Y/N] sat in the passenger seat. The real showdown had started between them something awful when the door to their house slammed shut.

See, Art cried when he got mad. Or sad. Or profoundly excited. Their wedding photos were two-thirds Art crying and trying not to show that he was crying.

Art hadn’t cried tonight yet. That pissed [Y/N] off. She was furious and he seemed to feel absolutely zero discernible feelings about that.

They argued all the time. It rarely lasted all too long.

It was different this time. When [Y/N] started to say something cruel or shout or weep, Art got a little smaller, but he alarmingly stood his ground. He averted his gaze and said “I respectfully disagree,” or “What the fuck do you know about how I feel?” in a dangerously level tone.

Fighting with Art about this wasn’t fun. He was too cool about. He knew he was right. [Y/N] wanted to yell and scream because Art was so relaxed and condescending in his tone. When the man who had spent his teenage years getting referred at competition after competition as literally Ice tonelessly said: “Jesus Christ, aren’t you bored yet? What, going to over-explain the same information to me again, or…?” Finally, that had made [Y/N] drag herself to bed and yank the door closed violently enough that she felt the metallic vibration run all the way up to her shoulder.

And she was still laying there, staring at Art’s side of the bed.

At the Zweig’s party that night, there were a few hot topics in the Donaldsons’ sphere:

1) Lots of congratulations from people that had known them grow up, but hadn’t seen them since the wedding or prior.

This was mostly very kind. It dragged that smirk up Art’s face and caused his fingers to dig tighter into [Y/N]’s waist. That look of pride and tenderness on his face was more than welcome.

2) Lots of questions about Patrick. His lack of attendance was felt.

Both Donaldsons dodged these question as much as they could. Art kept an eye on [Y/N]’s liquor consumption. He knew how embarrassed she would be if she said something she regretted in front of Patrick’s family. Patrick had hurt them both, but Art’s heart went out to [Y/N]. Her world had been built around Patrick’s from a young age. Art was trying to engineer his own world higher around her so she wouldn’t be able to see the old place and people that had burned her over the walls.

3) “You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

With Art keeping an eye on [Y/N]’s drinking, she hadn’t really been keeping an eye on him. She just assumed he would keep his shit together. Art drinking in public was never really a concern. He wasn’t a big drinker anyway. At this point, his career mattered more and he was approaching his mid-twenties which made him feel surely less young than he had once. He wasn’t a casual beer guy either. It was Patrick who liked beer and Art who would have a moledo or something sometimes. Art did like white girl drinks, though. Tequila and fruity stuff. He had been able to shoot shot after shot of vodka like a pro in college at a season-end celebration.

Art was a tight-lipped man, but he was a giggly drunk who he got pretty comfortable talking out of his ass from behind a glass with an umbrella in it. Art was rarely comfortable with anything, so a drink or two at a party was welcome to him.

Another important point of context is that the largest point of tension between Art and [Y/N] was starting a family. They desperately wanted a child together, but they disagree on when. [Y/N] felt like she was fresh out of college, so she figured they had plenty of time. Art felt that he was fresh out of college, so he figured they may as well get to it.

Their arguments about this were once semi-regular. In the last four months or so, Art timidly bowed out and hoped [Y/N] would tell him when she was ready (sooner rather than later). He got tired of the low-tier shouting matches. Instead, he would pick fights about things that were decidedly lower stakes when he was bored.

Art had let [Y/N] field comments about family planning throughout the night. Unfortunately, when Art was polishing off a second drink, he ran his mouth a little bit.

Knowing he was the designated driver that night, Art did go easy. Art was also, like, five pounds. While he could hold his liquor with grace, he always got giggly. He watched with heavy eyelids as [Y/N] walked away to collect another drink following the dinner portion of the evening. The paper placecards with their shared last name emblazoned on them rested comfortably in Art’s inner jacket pocket to be kept as a memory.

Some guy who sold boat insurance and liked to rub elbows with talent was talking Art’s ear off. Art couldn’t remember his name, but [Y/N] would know it.

This was the precise moment that got Art in trouble.

Because when the guy whose name Art was sure started with an R said: “So! You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

Art said:

“Any day now, I hope. Tomorrow. I’m good to go. [Y/N] thinks now’s not a great time for her.”

He had said it with a smirk and a stupid little laugh. It was basically locker room talk. Big deal. He would’ve said it to Patrick with [Y/N] present in the room. This guy wasn’t Patrick and he was technically speaking behind her back.

Art had forgotten how close they were standing to the bar. He had forgotten that the frequency of his pitchy tenor was known to carry. He had forgotten that he was well known to be an instigator of fights even though he never actually threw the first punch. He had forgotten that he hadn’t been whispering. He had forgotten that this guy… Richy? Ronnie? was pretty much a stranger who had no business knowing their business.

Now, Art was sleeping on the couch and his side of the bed was empty.

Jackass.

[Y/N] stared still at the empty bed and didn’t know how to articulate her upset to an Art who had seemingly yet to feel ashamed.

She had a headache and was tired. But sleep wasn’t going to come easy and all she had to look forward to was a hangover.

Art didn’t really snore, but he was a heavy breather when he slept. The lack of his white noise made the A/C blowing and the stairs creaking too loud. Maybe all of this was on [Y/N] for making Art uncomfortable, she dared to think.

Then she reminded herself that it was Art’s fault for talking too much and for drinking when he knew he was supposed to drive home.

[Y/N] rolled over to face away from Art’s spot. All she could think about is how his hands always sleepily pawed at her to pull her back when she got too far away from him before he fell asleep.

“So, what’d you do?” Patrick asked.

“She hates me.” Art replied. It was almost a question.

“I asked what you did, not what she feels. She already told us what she feels and it’s that she hates you.” Patrick stated. When Patrick had stopped through town for a match, he had come by for dinner with, well, his best friends. This had been right after they’d gotten engaged.

Art sniffled. He didn’t want to cry in front of Patrick. Art would sooner cry in front of his own father. Both men would have laughed in his face, but it would have stung more from Patrick. “We got into a fight yesterday. A big one. Like, the first, uh, big one. She’s worried about the f—“

“The future? Please,” Patrick said bitterly. He frowned and his jaw tightened, but he combatted it by tossing Art a smile before the other man noticed the tension. “Stupid. You’re gonna marry her. You’ll play tennis. She’ll do her… columns? Articles. I don’t get what it is that she does—“

“She writes for—“

“Sure, yeah. You’re gonna have two kids so you can each pick a favorite one. And she’s gonna be a pain in your ass forever. Don’t be a pussy.”

Art sniffled again and stared at the floor. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. I didn’t think I did,” Art said meekly. “I don’t get it. She gets so mad sometimes. At me.” Patrick stared at him blankly. Art had to know that he was usually at least a little bit the problem.

“Did she do the thing where she calls you a—“

“Shithead bastard?”

“Shithead bastard.” Both boys said at the same time. Art dragged his hands through his hair and looked up at Patrick. Both of them quirked a smirk at the other.

“See,” Patrick started. “You’ll be fine. Fuckin’ go after her.”

“And say what!”

“Uh… ‘I’m sorry?’ You do that kinda shit. She’ll like that.”

It was impossible to know how long [Y/N] laid there. The clock was on Art’s side and she would get spitting mad if she rolled back over.

She could just go downstairs and tell Art to come back to bed. He was probably sleeping just fine.

“Hey, hon, you don’t hate me, right?” Art’s voice whispered in the darkness.

[Y/N] was fairly certain she had imagined it. She had not heard his sweaty feet on the stairs or his fingers against the doorknob. Quickly, [Y/N] whipped over to face the door behind her.

There was Art. His sweatpants sat low on his hips and his shirt was long gone. Clothing didn’t often survive the night on Art’s back.

Really, she couldn’t help but wonder how long it had taken Art to work through coming upstairs so quietly. “Mm?” [Y/N] groaned in question.

Art rocked his right shoulder into the doorway to lean. His arms were crossed and his eyes straight ahead on her from what [Y/N] could tell in the glow of the hallway’s thermostat. “Please just tell me you don’t hate me and I’ll let you go back to sleep. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

With a sigh, [Y/N] sat up and rolled her cracking shoulders back. “I don’t hate you, Art.” Her heart melted a little bit. [Y/N] knew it was immature, but her special attack in arguments since childhood was to bandy around the word hate a lot. Not that she had said it to Art tonight, but she had no doubt said it before. More than once. More times than she could count, maybe.

She was surprised Art had never asked this before. That surprise hurt in an a way that was too complex to describe. “I could never hate you.” [Y/N] continued, voice hushed only because it was dark out.

Art’s posture relaxed slightly. “You promise you don’t?” Said Art’s evermore crippling lack of self-confidence.

“I promise.” [Y/N] replied calmly.

“Okay. Thank you.” Art said in a small voice.

“I love you, baby. I don’t hate you. You shouldn’t have to ask that. I’m sorry I made you feel like you even have to ask that.”

Art frowned sharply. “No, I’m the one that should be sorry. You told me nicely not to talk about—“

“Don’t play that. You have to know you don’t feel like you did anything wrong, so you don’t have to invent a situation where you’re some horrible person.”

Art was silent.

[Y/N] continued. “I’m pissed because you told Randy,” RANDY. His name was RANDY. That’s it. “Our business. My business, really. He’s an asshole. It’s fine. Well, not now, but eventually. But you kinda martyred yourself on it. You don’t have to do that and I don’t hate you. You know I don’t… Right?”

“I’m sorry.” Art said quickly. He was gifted at making every single minor problem his own fault. He knew he was a little bit of an awful person for that, but he would die before admitting it. Art would hide behind his martyring habit as long as his cross could hold him, though. [Y/N] hadn’t noticed before this moment, but she could see the shining of his eyes in the digital blue-green glow. Tears. This time, less than obvious waterworks. Aw.

“I’m sorry. I’m still pissed at you for running your mouth, but I’m sorry too.”

Art nodded, said nothing else and reached for the doorknob.

Here is a frustrating thing about Art.

He said he was going to leave for downstairs once [Y/N] said she didn’t hate him. He started to make good on that vow. If he says something, he’s going to do it, even though he doesn’t have to do it.

“Come on,” [Y/N] called louder than she’d been whispering. “Come here, pretty baby.”

Pretty Baby by Blondie had been their wedding song. She had been calling him that for almost as long as she had known him. Saying it, or hearing the song always made that stunning, small crooked smile stretch up beyond his sad puppy eyes all the way to his ears.

Art’s kryptonite was pretty baby. They both knew it.

He turned to look at her with a slight blush on his cheeks, almost visible in the dark. Art shifted one of his feet childishly over the other in apprehension.. “Don’t make me say it again. I don’t like to ask twice.” [Y/N] reminded him.

After a hasty nod, Art was in bed before he [Y/N] blinked. The blonde sat bolt upright beside [Y/N] with his eyes wide. Hesitant, but coyly so. He knew this pattern. The agony and shame from her brutality would only last so long. Housepets loved to cause trouble for treat.

Not to say that Art liked to start fights so he could play some low-status lapdog that got to feel his wife’s fingers comb through his hair the way he liked as a reward for an apology. The man bit his cheek to avoid a devious smirk. A part of him did like to do that sometimes, though.

He always got away with it. He was such a nice boy.

[Y/N] rolled her eyes and leaned back into the threadbare pillows. With a finger, she beckoned Art nearer. Hesitation eliminated, Art flopped slowly down beside [Y/N]; she on her back, he on his side, facing her. Delicately, Art’s fingers dragged down [Y/N]’s arm to curl in her fingers.

Not long after that, his plush mouth climbed down from her neck. Then shoulders and collarbones. Then bicep. Elbow. Forearm and wrist. Down her hand to her silver-studded ring finger. Each kiss with accompanied with an honest and dutiful I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. He was sorry. Genuinely. Sorry for the upset he brought his wife, but not the cause. Art’s beautiful duel-colored eyes glanced up at [Y/N]’s blown pupils through her own fingers.

“I didn’t mean to talk about you like that… I just… I love you so much that I want more of you. That’s all, honey,” Art laid his head on [Y/N]’s upper chest and his mouth moved against the front of her throat. “I’m just a little stupid, huh…”

Under his lips, Art could feel the rumble of a laugh rip through [Y/N]’s throat. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair to hold him in place. “Do-don’t talk about yourself like that,” she mumbled and gave his hair a lovely tug with both hands. He whimpered. [Y/N] wanted to bottle that sound. Art would always remember what she said next and how she said it: “Only I get to talk about you like that… St-stupid.”

This was the version of [Y/N] he was going to remember when he thought of her every day for the rest of his life. That sentence, the way her hair hung from where he had pushed it away from her neck. The sting of the cold metal from her wedding ring on the back of his neck and the stone of her engagement ring pressing into where he reached his palm to place his hand over hers. There was just the wrong amount of clothes between them. Her eyes ringed smoky from the makeup smudges and the exhaustion.

“Say it again.” Art whispered, swinging a knee over [Y/N]’s thighs so he could stare down at her. His forehead pressed softly against [Y/N]’s.

[Y/N]’s mouth fell open slightly with a breathy exhalation. Holy shit. “What, pretty baby, you want me to tell you how stupid you are? You like that?” [Y/N] almost whispered into Art’s still lips. He was too shocked to kiss her back, but too turned on to pull away. Art whimpered louder than before. [Y/N] felt him nod.

So she didn’t hold back. “You think I need to punish you after you behaved like that today or something? You need to atone for what a moron you were, shithead?” [Y/N] kept her tone light enough to just about tease as her nose trailed along the side of his. Her objective was to belittle. Her nails slid down Art’s muscular, sturdy back.

They both knew Art was a masochist on his worst days. Did he get off on being degraded sometimes? Sure. But this series of events was ridiculously new and exciting for [Y/N]. And shockingly obviously for Art too.

His hips pressed into her pathetically. “What? Did you need help with something?” She asked innocently when she felt Art’s hard-on against her thigh. [Y/N] kissed him distractingly warmly for how she was treating him. Art’s head spun and he couldn’t seem to make sense of anything anymore. He had backed himself into the best kind of corner.

Across Art’s hips and side went [Y/N]’s left hand, to the front of his sweatpants. Humiliatingly, Art blinked tears out of his eyes and screwed them shut. His mouth opened and closed, but no intelligent sound came out. [Y/N] planted a kiss at the corner of his parted lips. His strong arms boxed [Y/N] protectively in from above, but she had him locked into place, really. “Baby, if you want something, you know you have to ask for it.”

“Nnh,” Art tried, eyes stuck shut. His attention was mostly spent hold himself up over his wife. His insanely gorgeous wife. [Y/N]’s other hand grabbed his jaw tenderly. He still didn’t look at her. Art was gathering his courage. “Yo-you already told me I couldn’t have what I wanted.”

With a sharp inhale, [Y/N] grip went from gentle to nonexistent. At the lack of contact, Art’s damp eyes crept open one at a time to see if his brattiness had overstepped the situation. His frightened eyes caught [Y/N]’s. She popped the side of his face sharply with an open palm. Art blinked and tipped his head to the side like a dog.

That was big trouble, huh?

“Fuck,” he said. Both of them panted in sync. “I’m sorry.” He meant it.

[Y/N] pulled Art’s face to hers and kissed him hard. “I love… you.” She said.

[yutarot]

SHES THE MAN [l.hc smau]

FINAL: 29 - you already do. wc: 1.4k

college esports fair — 7:29pm

somehow, ten had convinced you to watch the main stage tournament.

��ten, please, can we just watch 5 minutes and go. i really don’t want to bump into haechan right now, on valorant it was bareable but i wouldn’t even know what to say if i saw him in person…” you rant off to your bestfriend, stood next to you.

infront of you, ten and the crowd, was a stage with empty spaces for 12 contestants lined along the back, tbu’s esports coach, johnny suh, stood at the front with a microphone.

as johnny was beginning to explain the rules of game, ten whispers to you.

“sure. but it’ll be fine! trust me.”

you give him a suspicious glance but decide to go along with it anyways, finally tuning into the coaches speech after he had got the microphone to stop buffering.

“there will be two teams, team 1 and team 2.”

“creative.” you whisper to ten, who laughs.

johnny glances at you, somehow having heard you, before clearing his throat to continue. the people around you laugh.

“each team will be chosen by 2 of the college leagues finest captains. drumroll please?”

you roll your eyes before lazily drumming your palms against tens arm.

“ow!” ten yelps, but you only laugh as he brushes you off.

but your laughter is soon cut short as the two faces you wish would no longer exist, step out onto stage.

from the left, eric sohn.

and from the right,

haechan.

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding.” you murmer, but tens smirking. why is he smirking??

“boys, please choose the 5 players you would like to contribute in your team, taking turns. a coin flip will decide first choice.”

your heart is pounding and you have no clue why.

eric yells heads, leaving haechan to be stuck with tails.

“tails, tails, tails, please, tails.” you hear ten chant from beside you, but you dont ask why, you make a mental note to ask him later. not that you’ll have to, of course. little did you know it’d all become evident, very soon.

johnny flips the coin. “and its heads!”

ten swears to himself and you want to question him as to why he cares so much, but there’s a pair of eyes looking right at you that pull you straight out of your thoughts.

or should you say, two pairs of eyes.

“ten, we have to leave. i have a bad feeling about this.”

but ten only laughs in reply.

as either teams first 4 contestants get decided and called onto stage, you’re still begging ten for you to leave but he ignores you.

johnny calls out to eric to decide his final team member. “do you care to choose your last player, eric?”

he’s looking directly at you and you hate it.

you need to get out of there.

“yes i do. i know exactly who i’d like to pick.”

his attention turns to haechan. and for some reason, haechan looks angry. it’s like there’s some secret between eric, haechan and for some reason ten, that you don’t know about.

you find out why, the second the next four words leave eric’s lips.

“i want yn zhong.”

you feel eyes turn to you. ten beside you, clenching his jaw in anger.

“what?” you whisper. you want to say no, you want to call out and disagree. but haechan beats you to it.

“not happening.” haechan says. eric laughs in spite.

johnny picks up his mic. “do we have a disagreement here, haechan lee?”

haechan turns from eric to face johnny before finally letting his eyes fall to yours.

“i want her.”

you know he means he wants you on the team, but you can’t help but wonder if there’s a double meaning in his words.

he’s supposed to hate you, he’s supposed to despise what you did to him, all that you lied about.

but he wants you?

“then i guess that leaves us with only one option. the chosen persons decision. yn? choose. team 1 or team 2?”

your heart is racing. johnny is making you choose between your ex boyfriend and haechan. so as you walk up to the stage, you spent those 6 seconds deciding exactly what team you want to join.

as you walk straight over to him, he smiles. haechan smiles.

— 9:48pm.

you won. you did it. you finally beat eric.

you could nearly drown in the look on his face as he stormed off that stage the moment you had wiped out his entire team.

but finally, after all that had happened. you got your revenge.

not as chenle, not as anyone else. but as you.

and my god did it feel amazing.

to celebrate, you had jumped up, throwing your arms around the nearest person to you.

but it’s only now that you’re realising who that person is.

slowly, he breaks the hug to look at you.

“look…yn…”

“should we take a walk? i don’t really wanna argue in front of all these people.” you interrupt.

“argue…?” haechan asks under his breath. but your already off the stage, waving bye to ten as you walk towards the empty, turned off carousel. leaving haechan no choice but to rush after you.

wow, that game must have lasted alot longer than you thought.

sitting on one of the faux carriage seats, haechan takes a seat next to you.

“you still hate me, don’t you?” haechan starts.

you look up at him. “what?”

“you know, i kicked you off the team. got mad at you for no reason then just refused to hear you out.”

you’re silent. but he continues.

“you know, i didn’t believe it at first. you pretending to be your brother, but it all makes perfect sense to me now.”

“what do you mean?”

“you helping me with somi, finishing my homework for me when i forgot deadlines, logging into my accounts to finish levels. you were just being a good friend, and i blew it off over jealousy.”

you wanted to cry. you never thought you’d feel so much guilt, but now he’s laying it all before you as his fault…you don’t think you can stand lying to him about anything, any longer.

“im not mad at you haechan.”

his attention on you peaks at this. you pause before continuing.

“in all honesty, i thought you hated me for, well, you know, lying to you about who i was.”

your suddenly very aware about how small this bench is, and how dark it is around you. but he’s right next to you. and that’s something you’ve unknowingly been wishing for, for weeks.

“really?” haechan asks, and your surprised at his confusion. “you thought i was mad at that?”

and now it’s your turn to be confused.

if he didn’t hate you, and you didn’t hate him. what was all this for? why had you been avoiding eachother ever since he kicked chenle out? why had you blatantly ignored every chance there was to see him, if neither of you hated eachother?

unless.

you both liked eachother instead.

“yn, im not mad at you for lying to me.”

your breath stops at his words. he carries on.

“im mad at myself for not realising you were here, directly infront of me, this entire. fucking. time.”

it takes a moment for you to register his words, so you stay silent as you let him continue.

“so give me a chance to know you. the person who stayed up with me all night, the person who fixed my busted cheek. i wanna know you.”

you smile.

because there’s something inbetween all this that he’s forgetting. something that makes all of this a whole lot easier.

“you already do.”

his eyes never cease to leave yours as his hand grazes your chin. and slowly, under the light of the stars and the distant rumble of voices and game music behind you, he kisses you.

and it’s perfect.

through all you’ve been through together, finally you don’t have to hide. this moment is everything you’ve ever wanted.

more than beating eric, more than making the team, more than jaemins limited edition pokémon cards.

this.

for, from this moment on, being with haechan means one thing and one thing only.

you’ll never have to pretend again.

[mlist]

NOTES: and that’s it! thank you so much for following along w this story, i really appreciate every single like, reply and reblog you guys leave, it means the world to me that people enjoy what i put out! i really struggled with this ending and i sooo desperately wanted to give it a bad ending but @chenlesfavorite may have made me change my mind so you can thank her for saving that😓��� again tysm for following along!!! i hope you all enjoyed reading and i look forward to starting my jaehyun smau tonight!! 🫶🫶

TAGLIST - CLOSED - @lostinneocity @aek1ra @haechansleftshoulder @sunghoonsgfreal @cyjzzl @nanaxwi @neocrashed @candied-czennie @alethea-moon @vantxx95 @nerdsungie @morkiee @sthwaaberry @sunnystarred @p-d1ddy @starfilledgaze @markeroolee @polarisjisung @222brainrot @grassbutneo @minsugahh @daegalfangirl @injunnie-lemon @therealbobbyshloby @flwrs4marklee @jirsungs @donghyucksslut @junviadinho @minkyuncutie @multifandomania @n0hyuck @yehet267 @nctrawberries @neogothyuckie @snoopyjimin @yewshi @theyluvfrankocean @nanamyh3art @i03jae @ckline35 @hyuoonp @galacticnct @haechology @lttlekomori @cutiebambi @tynlvr @sunflowerhae @joyzluvr @taeeflwrr

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: an emotional rollercoaster

pairing: xander hawthorne x reader

synopsis: you hate rollercoasters but with a little persuasion xander manages to get you on one only you’d forgotten how badly you couldn’t handle them

warnings: dizziness/feeling faint

a/n: hope you enjoy 🤍🤍

taglist: @lovethornes @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @fleuriosa @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast

“No!” I exclaim for the fiftieth time , throwing my head back and laughing.

“Please,” Xander begs, pulling out his puppy dog eyes.

Usually they’d work but with what was at stake I was not about to let them win me over this time.

I turn my head stubbornly, “no.”

“Please!” he says desperately.

“Xander I already told you I’m not going on any of these,” I remind him with a smile.

I mean I wasn’t going to come at all, it was a miracle Xander got me out of the house. Theme parks were not my scene, I hated rollercoasters and people and crowds and basically everything about the place. Still, Xander had begged me to go and I had obliged. Damn those puppy dog eyes.

“They’re honestly not that bad,” he says, glancing up at one of the largest death-inducing machines of mankind.

“Nu-uh we had a deal,” I reply stubbornly, “I would come to the theme park and watch everyone else if I didn’t have to go on any of the rides.”

He looks at me pleadingly, “just one.”

“No Xand I hate them,” I deadpan.

“You could handle this one easily,” he rolls his eyes playfully pointing to one with about six loops.

“I told you about my rollercoaster trauma!” I exclaim, glaring at him.

“You were five and under the height limit,” he reminds me.

“And I still passed out,” I almost yell.

“Just one tiny weeny little ride,” he says, squinting excessively and making weird hand gestures as if I’d magically be convinced.

“No,” I chuckle, “how do you not understand that word?”

“He hasn’t since he was about two,” Jameson chirps in passing, walking off to a food cart with Avery, “you’ll get used to it.”

Xander jabs him in ribs as he passes and the turns back to me. A stubborn dog with a bone. Nearly as stubborn as me.

“Come on,” he sings, “you know you want to.”

I raise an eyebrow, “in what alternate universe is that?”

He opens his mouth to reply but I already know what he is going to say.

“The answer is no,” I reply.

“What if…” he grins with that mischievous Hawthorne look in his eyes, “…you ride this one with me I’ll buy you ten books on the way home.”

I stop. Physically come to a halt to process the possibility. Ten books. Ten whole books. It’s an irresistible offer and he knows it.

“Even the limited edition version of shatter me?” I test him.

I’ve been begging him for months and the only reason he’s said no is because I have five other copies at home. Even though I insist this one is a must, he strongly disagrees.

He sighs, his chocolate eyes flicking to me with a withered expression, “yes even the limited edition of shatter me.”

My jaw drops as I grab his arm and I almost start to jump up and down, “are you kidding?”

“One ride baby and it’s all yours,” Xander winks back.

There’s a long pause. I hate rollercoasters, I hate theme parks, I hate the thought of going on a ride but I love books, I love the shatter me series and I would love limited edition copy…

Decisions, decisions…

“Fine,” I grumble.

His whole face lights up and my heart swells, I love it when he looks like this, “you’re serious?”

“One ride for ten books one of which a limited edition, sounds like a pretty good deal for me,” I shrug, the nerves creeping in as I realise what I’m really getting myself into.

“So you mean for the whole of today I could’ve bribed you with books,” he says, staring at me like I was his world as he tucked my hair behind my ears.

“Probably,” I nod.

“Damn it,” he mutters.

I poke my tongue out and begin to walk again.

Xander laughs and holds my shoulders, softly turning me around, “the line is this way honey.”

He steers me over to an extremely lengthy queue leading to something I knew I seriously did not want to set foot on. I gape at the line.

“It’s worth the wait,” Xander explains, reading my expression.

“Indeed it is,” comes a familiar voice. I spin around to find Jameson behind me, joining the queue.

“Where did you come from?” Xander asks.

“The food cart line was too long and I got distracted,” he shrugs.

“And we’ve wanted to do on this all day,” Avery adds pointing up.

I stare at her, “this?”

“Yep,” Jameson nods, leaning on the railing, “so how comes Xander’s roped you into this one.”

“He promised me books,” I explain.

He grins at Xander, “smart one.”

He looks around, “where did everyone else go?”

“Lib went on the death drop again and of course Nash said yes to going with her practically with hearts pulsating in his eyes,” Jameson continues .

“She’s addicted to that ride,” Xander chuckles, shaking his head

I tilt my head to admire him. It‘s hard not to. I like to just watch him sometimes, the way the corners of his mouth twitch upwards every few seconds, the way his eyes light up when he talks to his brother, everything, I loved everything.

“I know,” Jameson hums in response, “Grayson and Lyra made a bet on who could walk in a straight line and not spill any water after the teacups, my money is on Lyra.”

“Mine too,” he says, “how does Gray think he stands a chance with all the pirouettes she can do?”

Jameson shrugs, “ he’s a stubborn idiot.”

“Not like you can say much then,” Avery smiles, batting her eyelashes at him.

Jameson slips an arm around her waist and pulls her in, “that one hurt heiress.”

“What a shame,” she murmurs, her gaze pinned to his green eyes.

From then on their conversation sort of blurs. There’s sound but I don’t identify any of the words. It’s all in the background, I’m too busy analysing the death wish to which I’d signed a forever binding contract to. How had I managed to be persuaded so easily?

“Don’t look so petrified,” Xander mumbles into my hair, wrapped his around me from the back and reeling me into his chest.

“It’s a little difficult,” I reply, not breaking eye contact from the rollercoaster.

“You might love it,” he says.

“Trust me when I tell you, I will not,” I scoff.

“I can’t believe he convinced you,” Avery says, shaking her head.

“I am magical like that,” Xander responds and I can hear the grin I loved so much in his voice.

“Sure,” Jameson rolls his eyes.

“Hey!”

I look at Jameson, “have you been on this one before?”

“Only a thousand times,” Jameson grins, “me and Xander used to stuff things in our shoes to surpass the height limit so we could go on with Nash and Gray.”

My jaw drops without my consent, “and none of you have ever died?”

“Well Gray’s a bit emotionally dead but-“ Jameson begins, when Avery whacks him and gives him a sharp warning look, “hey ow! let me finish! But that has nothing to do with a rollercoaster.”

“Good to know,” I sigh.

“You’ll be fine,” Xander soothes, rubbing my and own my arms, “don’t worry about it.”

“Unless you fall out,” Jameson smirks, “then you most definitely won’t be fine.”

Avery’s glare becomes more piercing and a fear I wasn’t used to seeing in Jameson flickers across his face. Usually it would amuse me to see him scared but right now I was too focussed on my own worries.

“Jamie don’t be mean,” she snaps.

“I mean it’s a fact if you fall out-“

“Pay no attention to what comes out of his mouth,” she cuts him off, addressing me, “I don’t half the time.”

“Ouch heiress you know how to cut me deep,” Jameson winces holding the left side of his chest.

Avery takes a step closer to him, tilting her head up softly to meet his gaze, a small smile laces her lips, “I know how to do a lot more than that.”

I watch them, wondering if me and Xander ever looked that in love.

“Guys, get a room,” Xander announces.

I wrinkled my nose.

“I didn’t even mean it like that!” Avery exclaims.

“Sure!” he rolls his eyes with a scoff.

I step to the side and tilt my head seeing the endless queue of people. If the queue is as long as I think it is I might never reach the front. Perfect I wouldn’t have to die on a rollercoaster, just in the line for one.

“How long is this queue?” I ask, changing the subject

“Not that long,” Jameson shrugs, “wait time’s only an hour.”

“An hour?” I gape in my surprise, “people queue an hour for this?”

“Says the girl who camped out when Holly Black came to a book signing,” Xander teases.

I fold my arms and stare at him with my eyebrows raised, “your point?”

“This is people’s Holly Black book signing,” he explains.

“This?” I almost yell in disbelief, “this death trap?”

“Precisely.”

I shake my head, “I will never understand people.”

“That’s what I love about you,” he winks.

I narrow my eyes as he takes the small of my back into his palms, “the only thing?” I ask softly.

“Of course not,” he grins, “but if I sat here and listed it to you we’d be dead before I got to the end.”

“How morbidly adorable,” I reply dryly, secretly melting inside.

He laughs, his eyes sparkling with something that made my heart race, “I love you.”

“If you loved me I would not be in this line,” I deadpan.

“And if you loved me you’d ride this rollercoaster with me,” he counters, poking his tongue out.

“See I never said I loved you back when you told me you loved me,” I shrug.

“Your eyes did though,” Xander replies, making my cheeks tint a gentle pink colour.

A smile breaks out into my face and steals away my features, “what did I tell you about reading my eyes?”

“Are you two quite finished?” Jameson coughs.

“No we haven’t snogged yet,” I snap back, “shut up.”

“I mean you can’t say a lot Jamie,” Xander adds, “you and Avery are x rated compared to us.”

“We are not x rated,” Avery steps in.

“Oh so when I walked in on you-“

“We’re in public Xander,” Jameson yells, panic and desperation flickering through his eyes.

Xander smiles satisfactorily, “that’s what I thought.”

“Let them have their moment Jamie,” Avery murmurs softly, taking his hand.

I look back to Xander, “where were we?”

“You were complaining about my eye reading tendencies,” he answers, flashing me a grin.

“Well,” I shrug softly, “it’s not fair you know what I’m thinking all the time.”

“You want to know what I’m thinking right now?” he whispers, forehead pressed against mine.

“Hmmm,” I hum.

“I’m thinking I want to kiss you,” he murmurs, his voice is low and in the back of his throat, making my insides go weak.

I let my lips nearly sit on his, “then why aren’t you?”

He smiles and slowly initiates this kiss. His lips brush over mine so gentle and tentative. His hands slide in my back, then around my neck and finally cupping my face.

“Has that helped with the nerves?” he asks a hint of seduction in his voice that he only used when we were in particular circumstances.

“You might need to do it again,” I say with doe eyes.

“I don’t want to traumatise too many kids we might get kicked out,” he chuckles.

“If we get kicked out that means I don’t have to go on this ride,” I beam.

“That’s why we’re not getting kicked out,” he says, booping the tip of my nose.

I sigh. It was worth a shot.

“It feels like I’ve moved nowhere,” I complain, peering down at the line that’s just as long as before.

“They’re very little steps,” he reasons.

I say, my aching limbs weighing like lead, “Xand my legs hurt.”

“Come here then…”

He opens his arms and I lazily lean on him like he’s my life support. He wraps his arms around me and brings me into a comforting hug. I’d always loved being in Xander’s arms, he was hands down the world’s best hugger. I felt safe and warm and loved.

“You tired?” he asks, probably noticing my eyes drooping slightly.

“Mhmmm.”

He laughs, “you look so cute right now,”

“Stop it,” I blush, shying away from his gaze.

“You do,” he says, “your face was all squished.”

“Oh thanks,” I reply sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

“I love it.”

“That is not a compliment,” I say, leaning back onto him again. My wimps of legs aching as if I’d never held my own weight up before.

“Here get on my back,” Xander offers.

“You want go piggy back me?” I raise my eyebrows, folding my arms.

He looks me dead in the eyes, as serious as Xander gets, “yes, I want to piggy back you.”

I hesitate before I remember who I’m dating, then I shrug, “okay.”

And with that I just casually hopped onto his back and rebranded myself of his personal backpack.

“I feel like a koala,” I murmur into his ear.

“Don’t koalas usually cling onto the front?” Xander asks.

I shrug, “I don’t know, I’m not a koala expert.”

I rest my head on his shoulder and slump onto him. I can feel my nerves growing. I’ve tried to suppress them and distract myself from feeling them but now they were on the rise the closer to the front we got. I subconsciously play with the fabric of Xander’s shirt rubbing the fibres gently between my fingers over and over in a rhythmic pattern.

“What’s wrong?” he asks me. He knows me so well it hurts.

“Oh,” I murmur, a little consumed in my own anxious thoughts, “no nothing.”

“You sure?”

I hum in response as we take another step closer to the front of the queue. From the amount of people in front of us I assumed we’d be in the next lot to board. I chew the inside of my lip accidentally piercing it, the taste of metal filling my mouth.

“Xand,” my voice shakes.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to do this,” I tell him.

He sets me down and places him hands on my hips, “what are you scared of?”

“Dying,” I reply immediately.

“Well that’s not going to happen at all and I can tell you that for sure,” he comforts.

“What if it does?”

“I won’t let it,” he replies, “besides we’re in the queue now there’s no turning back.”

“There is I can turn around right now and walk back that way,” I say pointing behind him.

Xander grins, “no no no, we are here now.”

We take another step forwards and the people infront of us begin to get on. We’re getting closer and closer to the start. My heart pounds in my chest, I can hear it roaring through my ears.

I stumble backwards in a panic, “I can’t do this, I actually can’t do it.”

“Yes you can,” he says gently, “I’ve got you.”

“Xander,” I exhale rubbing my temples, “I am freaking out.”

“Hold my hand.”

“Unless your hand has some magic anti-panic power that is really not going to help,” I exclaim.

“Good thing I’ve been brushing up on my sorcery,” he jokes with a witty expression.

“Xand I’m serious,” I hyperventilate with a deadly look in my eyes.

“Well you’re on it now,” he shrugs.

My jaw nearly drops, I’m sat on the rollercoaster and I hadn’t even realised I’d gotten on. I’d been too focussed on my mess of feelings that I’d been led on.

“I think I should get off,” I squeeze his hand.

“If you really want to you should,” Xander says with a soft look in his eyes.

I don’t move. My brain is telling me to but some force is pulling me down to my seat. Maybe I’m trying to prove something to myself or maybe I just really want that book. Whatever it is, I remain where I am.

I look at him with a determined sharpness in my eyes, “give me your hand.”

He beams widely and extends his arm, squeezing my palm in his.

“If you let go of me I will kill you,” I snap.

He tilts his head to the side and shoot me a lopsided grin, “I’ll never let go of you.”

And then it begins.

***

I had my eyes closed for the whole ride, screamed even when it had stopped and probably made Xander’s hand go purple with how tightly I was squeezing it.

The world spins as we get off and I stumble to meet the others.

“You’re looking a little pale there y/n,” Nash drawls, his eyebrow arched in concern.

“Feel dizzy,” I slur, panicked. I reach for my boyfriend, “Xand?”

My voice is barely a sound, you can hear the fear infecting every note.

“I got you,” he murmurs, supporting me with a hand around his waist .

His hand is warm against my side, still I can’t stand straight, “I hate you,” I grumble.

“I know,” he says, pulling me in closer so all of my weight is practically on him.

“I hated that.”

“I know.”

“I’m going to fall over,” I warn him, feeling my legs about to give way, “and my head really hurts.”

“Come here,” Xander tells me gently.

I wrap my arms around his neck and he lifts me up into his arms, bridal style. My heavy head lolls towards him chest and collides with it.

“I’m just going to close my eyes to stop the spinning,” I say, my words disjointed and distant.

“You do that sweetie” he leans down and kisses my forehead and I feel his grip tighten around me.

“What did you do to her?” Libby asks, I can feel her gentle hand on my forehead checking for a temperature.

“I didn’t do anything,” Xander defends, “the giant metal contraption to our left however, did some real damage.”

“You got her on a rollercoaster,” I hear Lyra say and I can imagine her jaw is dropped, given the many conversations we’d had on how I would never go on a rollercoaster.

“Biggest life regret,” I mumble, eyes still shut.

Xander explains, “I promised to buy her books.”

“Who knew she could be so easily bribed,” Grayson comments dryly.

“Never again,” I groan, burying my face into Xander’s shirt to block out the light. I can smell him, his scent. It’s sweet, it’s comforting, it’s home. My heart rate slows a little and I feel my limbs relax.

“She looks like she’s dying,” Jameson responds.

“Thanks,” I scoff sarcastically with all the energy I had left.

Avery snaps, barely half a beat after me, “Jameson that’s horrible!” I hear a thump and a dramatic ‘ow’ and presume Avery whacked him.

“I feel like I’m dying,” I shrug, regretting trying to support my own head.

“Geez Xand I think you broke her,” Lyra says.

“Then I’ll fix her right back up,” he replies.

“I think she’s past the point of fixing,” Jameson says.

“Nothing is past the point of fixing,” Xander responds, a hard determination in his voice.

“Do we need to call someone or get some help?” Libby asks her eyebrows pinching together with a maternal concern.

I try to shake my head and fail miserably, “I’m just dizzy, it’ll pass.”

“Give her a sip of water,” Nash advises handing Libby a bottle.

She gently lifts my head and tips some down my throat, making sure I’d swallowed before I laid back down.

“Better?” I hear her ask.

“Yeah,” I respond.

“You’re a pathetic liar sweetheart,” Xander says with a small laugh.

“Shut up I’m fine,” I reply, although I very much did not feel fine.

“I’m going to take you home.”

Guilt twinges in my stomach.

“No, no,” I rush, trying to sit up in his arms and failing miserably, “don’t ruin your day, just stick me on the floor and I’ll be fine.”

It’s a total lie but I don’t care. He shouldn’t have to miss out because I can’t handle something.

“We’ll see you guys a bit later,” he turns to the others, before beginning to walk towards the exit.

“Xander I’m fine, it’s fine,” I say, squirming, “put me down.”

“Stop talking sweetheart it’s going to hurt your head,” Xander replies planting another kiss on my forehead.

“Don’t drop me then,” I murmur helplessly, clinging to him even tighter.

“Even if my arms go numb there’s no way I’m letting you go,” he says.

I wince, “I was not built for rollercoasters.”

“No you weren’t my love,” Xander agrees softly.

I groan in response, the spinning getting progressively worse.

“I’m sorry sweetie,” he says as he tentatively strokes my cheek, “I didn’t think it’d make you feel this bad.”

“I did try to warn you,” I murmur leaning into his touch.

“I know I’m sorry,” he replies and I can hear the worry in his voice,

I fall back into his arms and close my eyes to relieve myself from the dizziness, “I don’t want you to miss out because of me,” I whisper, “I don’t want your day to be ruined because I can handle a stupid little rollercoaster.”

“I’m not missing out,” he reassures me, “I’ve got everything I could ever want bundled in my arms right now,”

“That was really cute,” I giggle, “and I’ll appreciate more when I’m not seeing stars.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, real guilt thickening his tone.

I had only meant it as a joke but hearing that rawness in his voice made something in my heart twist. My mind paints the ashamed look in his kind eyes. I despise the thought.

“Don’t feel bad,” I say quickly.

He forces a chuckle, “I do feel bad.”

“You know how you can make it up to me?” I open my eyes, and see double of him, not that I mind. Two Xander’s aren’t so bad to look at.

“No ,” he frowns, “how?”

***

I curl up with my special edition shatter me novel, taking in each word. I know it’s going to be the best reread of my life. I can’t help but keep flicking back to admire the cover. It’s the most gorgeous thing I own.

Everything stopped spinning around an hour after I got off of that death trap and I can actually make out the words.

I feel his eyes on me, I always can. I look up with a grin and to no surprise I’m right. Xander’s standing there staring at me, a small smile lacing his lips. He looks at me like I’m worth more than each and every blueberry scone in the universe, which is a big compliment from him.

He walks over and sits down beside me and I notice two mugs in each of his hands. One is decadently topped with whip cream, chocolate shavings sprinkles and a whole world of other things and the other was plain. I think it was safe to say who’s was who’s. He passes me a the non-embellished steaming mug and I can’t help but smile, “worth it?” he asks me, eyebrows raised at the book.

“For my mental health,” I begin slowly, “no, for this book, absolutely.”

“You’re a little odd,” he shoots me a very Hawthorne grin, “has anyone ever told you that?”

I move closer to him, “I may have heard it here and there.”

“But that’s why I love you,” he whispers cupping my face in his hands.

“Good thing I love you too then,” I murmur with a little laugh as his lips crash into mine.

hey lovelies!! yes I am alive!!

sorry this isn’t a req fic and sorry it’s taken me so long to get another fic out, I’ve had loads of tests lately and a busy time in general. hopefully I’ll be able to write more regularly when it’s all done but for now unfortunately it’ll be a bit hit and miss, hope you can understand <33

TIG masterlist

[gracieabrmslvr]

matt sturniolo hc’s !

matt sturniolo x reader

no warnings!

i lowk feel like he would be kinda dry in the talking stage

he’s kinda an awkward person so he would not know how to act

but besides that, the man is OBSESSED with you

okay but the way i see him an extroverted person

will definitely drive you anywhere you want to

BOY DOES NOT SAY NO TO YOU

“ i literally asked you to take me to target and you said no but when she asks it’s a yes?!” “ she has girlfriend priorities nick!”

“ do you want to go shopping with me today 🤗” boy will probably make a face but will still say yes

and if he does…. he’s in for a treat..

ITS FOR GOOD REASONS THOUGH

“ alr baby no more drinks let’s go” with a protective mom look on his face dragging you away

he’s such a mom to you

ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU GET SICK BRO

he will bring you anything you need, and will YELL at you if you get up

“ why would you get up! sit back down your sick!”

okay but your lowk a mother to him too….

he secretly loves it but never will admit it..

bro tells EVERYONE he hates pet names and shit like that but folds when you call him baby

baby, sweetheart,my girl, babe, those are the few he calls you

SPEAKING OF MY GIRL

bro addresses you to other people like that

“ yeah my girl really likes those” “ my girl’s over there” “ oh yeah my girl is friends with her but” and so on

he follows you around like a lost puppy

especially at parties

ok now let’s talk about arguments…

i feel like you both would be stubborn people so arguments wouldn’t happen frequently but sometime often

OVER STUPID STUFF

he’ll never yell at you though

but he gets kinda mean and you have to put him in his place…

“ god you just like to start fights for zero reason huh? ” “ you started this fight matthew!!”

oh but once you pull out the full name… he KNOWS he’s screwed..

“ i’m sorry baby” he’ll say after kissing you

hes buy literally anything for you

princess treatment to the MAX.

he’s brought you flowers every since you guys started dating

hand on thigh during car rides

he’s not very into pda but behind close doors he’s all over you.

he’s likes things being one on ones

your relationship would be so soft launched

either it’s from ur insta photos dumps or his stories

either way, everyone knows ur dating

he’s so “ you’re beautiful “ than “ you’re fine” TRY AND DISAGREE WITH ME

he knows you’re an a good looking person so i feel like jealously isn’t really there

he would only get “ possessive” if he sees the other person making you uncomfortable

HIS FAMILY LOVESSSSS YOU

like they absolute adore you.

you have facetime calls with marylou every month to “ catch up” but in reality your just talking about matt

if you have siblings, your siblings + parents love him

every time he comes over for dinner, it ends in him and your dad bonding over anything.

your mom gets mad whenever you get upset at matt bye

“ don’t yell at him like that!” “yeah don’t yell at me like that”

he’s such a suck up bye

YOU GUYS ARE LOCKED TF IN

i will add more later !

[rollinouttahere-writes]

WAIT WAIT Hear me out , what if Platonic Yandere! Strawhats ... As Mermaids/Mermans with Human!Y/n ?

Let's say people that Strawhats meeted either hated them or tried to kill them until they got into fish trap and Y/n sees that Strawhats are quite injured and can't get out so Y/n helps them then runs away because they are hella scared?

I hope this is good! I kinda rushed it so I could have it done before the end of the month.

(Don't) Face Your Fears

Yandere Merfolk Straw Hats x GN!Reader

1.8k words

Part 2

Deep breathes, you remind yourself. Deep breathes.

It was taking everything you had not to turn tail and run, but you stood your ground. You need to face this. You won’t be able to grow if you don’t. Waves crashed onto the shore ahead of you, the noise not allowing you to forget for a second where you were. The salty and fishy scent in the air was also a strong reminder.

You’re not even sure where this fear came from. You can’t recall some traumatic memory revolving around the ocean, you just hated it. The mystery of what hellish creatures lurked beneath the surface, the mere idea of being lost at sea, drowning, it all terrified you. 

All your life you’ve done your best to avoid the ocean despite living so close to it, but now you are trying to face it. You didn’t want to spend the rest of your life trapped by your own fears. What if you want to leave this island one day but can’t bring yourself to do so because you’re too scared to get on the boat?

You’ve made some progress, a lot really. Being able to stand on the beach like this was something you couldn’t have done a month ago. Tonight, though, you were going to take this a step forward. You hated doing this at night, but you were too embarrassed about your fear to risk people seeing you potentially freaking out over some water.

Your bare feet dug into the sand as you tried to will yourself to relax and step towards the water. It’s fine. Everything is going to be fine. You’re just going to wade ankle deep in the water and then call it a night. That’s it.

Ignoring the pounding of your heart and the sweat starting to form, you take the necessary steps, bringing yourself onto the wet part of the sand. You cringed at the sensation, not enjoying it even a little bit. 

You stood there and waited for the tide to come back in, forcing yourself to stand still. Finally, dreadfully, a wave comes in and laps at your feet. Your first gut response involves dry heaving and wanting to run away, but you endure. It’s barely touched you, you need to tough it out. 

Despite every nerve of your body violently disagreeing with this idea of yours, you take another step forward. More water rushes over your feet. It’s cold, but not freezing. It almost feels nice in contrast to the humid summer air. 

Now, you decide to wait here and adjust, forcing your breathing to even out again. As the minutes tick by, you find yourself not minding it as much as you initially did. If you closed your eyes, you could almost pretend you were simply soaking your feet in the river by your home. Maybe you’ll be able to enjoy this? Maybe.

Shockingly, you found yourself walking through the water. Not deeper into it, simply staying at the same depth and wading along the shore. The silence was peaceful, and you found that your previously thundering heartbeat was slowing to a more normal rate. Against all odds and expectations, you couldn’t help but smile slightly. This was incredible progress for you, and you were proud of yourself.

The atmosphere changes as you hear something in the distance. Splashing, and a lot of it. It sounded too loud to just be a fish. Was it a person? Was someone drowning? You ran towards the source of the noise. As you got closer, you could hear yelling over all the splashing, too. It sounded like several people. What the hell was happening?

“Hello? Is everyone alright?” You called out, trying to get a feel for what was going on before you got there.

The splashes stopped, but you did get a response, “Hello? Who’s there?” The voice sounded feminine and distressed. Scared even.

You were getting close enough to be able to start to make out the people. There were a lot of them, at least five, but they were moving around too much to be able to count clearly. All of them were caught in a net.

“I’m (y/n). I was going for a walk when I heard you guys, and I wanted to see if you needed help,” which they most certainly did. How did that many people manage to get caught in a fishing net like this?

“We do! Can you cut this net open?” A different voice piped up, this one sounding like a young boy. 

You could do that, there was a knife strapped to your belt that you kept there both for functionality and self defense. There was a problem though. They were deeper into the water than you were. If you went out to them, you would be waist deep. Much farther than you were prepared to go so soon.

Your hesitance didn’t go unnoticed. “Please! We need to get out of this! Some of my friends are hurt and we can’t treat them while we’re all stuck like this!” The same voice from before desperately pleaded.

Nausea rumbled deep in your stomach, but not just from the ocean this time. You couldn’t just leave a bunch of people to die because you were scared of a little water. Okay, a lot of water, but you won’t even have to swim. It’s going to be okay. You can do this. You will do this.

Forcing yourself to take deep breaths, you march forward. Miraculously, the rising water doesn’t crumble your resolve. You don’t look down at the water, purposefully focusing on the net ahead of you. You need to get them freed, and you need to do it now before you can have a chance to chicken out.

Unbuckling the holster for your knife, you unsheath it and get to work trying to cut through the thick rope of the fishing net. There was a lot of resistance, but you didn’t give up. The segment you were sawing your knife through snapped and you immediately moved on to the next one, vying to get a big enough opening for them to squeeze through.

There were loud cheers from a few of them as the net came undone enough for them to get out. They wasted no time and all headed for the opening to slip through. You held it open for them, wanting them to get out as quickly as possible. 

The first one escapes, and that’s when you feel it. Something large and slimy brushes against your exposed legs. What? That was just a big fish, right? Maybe even an errant piece of seaweed. As the rest of the group filed out, you felt the same sensation on your legs each time. 

These… These people were human… Right?

Chills were running down your spine as you questioned what exactly you were dealing with here. Before you could back away or ask questions, one of them approached you. He didn’t just come up to you, no. He full on threw himself out of the water and wrapped his arms around your torso.

“Thank you for saving us! We don’t get a lot of help from humans most of the time, so I’m really happy that one as nice as you came to our rescue!” This was the same boy that had spoken to you moments before to beg for help. He smiled widely at you, and the moonlight reflecting off the water was enough for you to be able to make out his too sharp teeth. As well as the fins on the sides of his head where ears should be.

Oh my God. Merfolk. This is a merman and you’re surrounded by more of them. Every rumor you’ve heard about them comes to mind instantly in one big violent pang. That they love nothing more than to drag any poor unsuspecting human they come across out into the ocean to drown them. That they would eat you after you died. That they could curse humans into becoming like them.

No. No no no nO NO NO!

With a scream, you shove the merman off of you and make a break for the shore. You get there faster than you thought humanly possible and kept running, not looking back. Fuck this. Fuck them. Fuck the ocean. Fuck everything you’re never going near the ocean ever again for as long as you live!

—

The merfolk could only sit in the shallow water and stare at your rapidly retreating and screaming form.

“I suppose they didn’t know we were merfolk when they helped us,” Robin mused.

“I like them,” Luffy was positively beaming despite being thrown off you seconds before. He’d crawled closer to the shore to watch you leave, his tail loudly splashing in the water behind him.

“Of course you do, you like everyone that looks at you twice,” Zoro scoffed, waving a webbed hand dismissively. He winced when the action strained one of his injuries, causing Chopper to snap at him to hold still.

“No, I really like them! I want to see them again! I bet that if we talk for a bit, they’ll come around,” Luffy nodded resolutely, already imagining what he’s going to say next time he sees you.

“How are you going to do that? I doubt that they’re going to go anywhere near the ocean for a long time,” Nami pointed out.

This gave Luffy pause, but only for a brief moment. His eyes lit up as an idea struck him, “There’s a river that goes through this island, right? I can use that to try and see them again. Maybe we’ll get lucky and they live along it!” 

“At least let one of us come with you, you have no tact throwing yourself at them like you did,” Sanji could tell that this would take a certain level of finesse that their captain absolutely did not have. No doubt he would up and drag you into the water with him if you were close enough to do so.

“You’re only saying that because you want to see them again, too,” Zoro splashed water in Sanji’s direction, extinguishing the cigarette he finally had a chance to enjoy. Naturally, this caused a fight between the two to break out, with Sanji slapping Zoro with his tail while Chopper was yelling at both of them to cut it out.

Luffy didn’t pay them any mind. While your form may have vanished from sight, he could still follow your scent. Even if you weren’t right next to the riverbed, he wasn’t opposed to dragging himself across land to get to you. Now that he had your scent, there’s nowhere on this small island you could hide to stay away from him.

[gaylordscooter]

Note This Down So I Don't Forget

Blue closed his journal and tucked it under his arm. He just finished up his entry on Epic Sans. He didn't actually know too much about him so he had to consult Cross.

It wasn't like he could talk to the source when he was missing.

Speaking of him missing, Blue turned his head, and saw the mistakenly-dubbed “protector of the universe” peeking over his shoulder to look at the journal.

He rolled his eyelights once he noticed Blue’s gaze on him. “I don't see the point in making an entry about that one.”

Blue squinted at him. “Because you killed him?”

Ink gasped dramatically, “Whaaat? Nooo!” He cleared his throat, putting on a serious face. “I didn't do that.”

“Sure.”

“You don't believe meeee!” He whined and draped himself over Blue’s shoulders.

“I’ll believe you when he’s found.” He shrugged him off.

“When he's found, you and I probably won't even remember this conversation!” Ink pointed out. He was shocked by his own words, regretting them the second he said them. It was meant to be playful banter but…

Blue deflated, looking like his namesake. He tightened his hold on his journal. His eyelights darted away. “Right,” he huffed.

Guilt showed through his eyelights. “I didn't mean it like that.” How else could he have meant it? Their horrible memories had them having the same conversations over and over like they were new each time. There was a reason they both wrote stuff down.

Writing stuff down could only do so much.

“it's true,” Blue said in a quiet voice.

Ink hated when he talked in all lowercase, because most of the time it meant he was sad or tired. Well, hate’s a strong word for someone like him. Speaking about someone like him, his faulty memory had a clear cut reason that made sense. He did this. He ripped his soul apart. He signed up for this, really.

But Blue? He didn't even get to choose. It wasn't his fault his universe decided to go on and erase itself.

“It's not your fault,” Ink said.

Blue looked surprised when he looked back at Ink, and then his expression melted into something more like concern. “No, no, Ink it isn’t either of our faults. You don't choose to have a shitty memory,” he almost laughed at the absurdity of that thought process. Really, forgetting stuff on purpose is hard!

“Well, I kinda did!” he argued. “Ripped my soul right in half, damning the consequences.”

Blue sputtered, looking even more concerned now. “You didn't know the consequences!” he yelled. He looked shocked at the volume of his own voice, but he continued, “You were just a kid! Looking for any way out. Even if you technically caused it doesn't mean it's your fault.”

Ink was confused. “But when I don't do anything to stop something it's my fault, how the hell does that work?!”

“That's not true either, people are just looking for someone to blame—”

“And! Epic was supposed to die! Why’s that my fault?!” Ink shouted.

Blue was stunned into silence. He studied Ink’s eyelights, they were changing too rapidly to discern any single emotion.

“I just…can't understand. Why are you my friend? I’m not a good…” he trailed off. “I’m not good. Do you think I learn anything from your kindness? I still do the same things. I still don't care. I’m going to keep sticking to what the creators want, okay?”

Blue sighed, “I know that.”

“So why don't you just leave like everyone else? Why stay friends with me when you know I’m going to disappoint you?!”

Blue put his hands on Ink’s cheeks making sure they made eye contact. “You don't disappoint me!” He looked distressed. “I’m not leaving you. I know you have your flaws but that doesn't mean you're bad.”

Ink scoffed, “A lot of people would disagree…”

“Well, they don't understand you, so their opinion doesn't count,” Blue asserted.

Right, because Blue totally understood him. Now that he thought about it, he kinda did…He definitely understood him more than anyone else. There were a lot less misunderstandings with him and it was always easier to explain things to him.

Why did he bother being so patient with him? It's not like he deserved it. Was it because he rescued him from his crumbling universe? That might've been it.

Of course his only friends were the “monster who literally couldn't hate anyone” and “monster whose life he saved”.

He was very likable, couldn't you tell?

“Hey Ink?” Blue’s voice dragged him back to reality.

He blinked, adjusting his demeanor so that he didn't look as pathetic as he felt. “Yeah, Blue?”

“Can I write something down on your scarf?”

“Oh!” he couldn't help but exclaim. No one else has ever done that before. There wasn't a reason to. He couldn't imagine what Blue had in mind. Leave it to him to catch him off guard sometimes.

He was the only one who did.

“So is that a no?”

“Yes—No? I mean—yes you can. Write on my scarf. But there's not that many blank spaces left.” He grabbed one of the tails of his scarf, scrutinizing for any free spaces. “What do you want to put, anyway?”

Blue grabbed his pen and clicked it. “A little reminder from me about how much I care about you.”

Ink’s sockets widened. Wordlessly he handed his scarf over to Blue, pointing to where he could write.

Blue used his journal as support underneath as he wrote. Once he finished, he signed his name below with a smiley face drawn next to it. “There you go.”

He looked down at his scarf and read his message.

“I’m glad we're best friends - Blue :)”

Ink was never one to get emotional, but for once a smile was able to come to him naturally. “Aw, cute,” he said. No, that wasn't enough, say what you want to say, you bozo. “I’m glad we're best friends too.”

[toysrguts]

MORE jeff hc's!!!!!!

thank u for the love on the last one i love writing these sm ^___^

•can fit like 11 cigarettes in his wide ass mouth at once

•half asian (his mom is chinese)

•his hair is really thin because it never grew back properly after being burned

•hates being wrong more than anything else on the planet. sometimes he knows hes wrong but will NEVER admit it and fight to the death over it

•bpd representation 💯💯💯

•something in my brain tells me he cant die. kind of like a johnny the homicidal maniac situation. he never gets caught and he never dies (he can still get seriously injured but he will always come back when u least expect it)

•always has to be in control of the aux in every vehicle hes in and is so obnoxious when his favorite songs come on

•also yells "I SAW THIS LIVE" every time a band he saw live comes on

•barks at random unsuspecting people through the open passenger window

•always stealing shit off his victims after killing. he has a whole ring collection because of it, and of course he steals wallets for weed money

•also steals from slenderman but you didnt hear that from me

•"saying jeff is a douchebag is like saying the sky is blue." -toby

•kind of guy that takes out his bottled up emotions on everyone around him and then hates himself for it

•wears the same gross outfit all the time. just grabs one of the 3 pairs of crusty skinny jeans from off his floor and of course the musty ass dirty ass torn apart ass hoodie

•smile dog is truly his best friend. he feels like nobody understands him like smile does. he loves taking him for walks in the woods while smoking a cigarette and having deep conversations with him (not that he actually responds but jeff knows smile can understand what hes saying)

•horror movie enthusiast, from obscure fucked up ones to super cheesy ones. he has a whole shelf dedicated to his horror movie collection

•has an addictive personality, which is partially why he has a drug and alcohol abuse problem and struggles with self harm

•rarely goes out in public because hes known to have violent outbursts. he once committed mass murder at a burger king because people were looking at him weird and EJ had to drag him out of there before the cops showed up

•HATES the light he literally duct taped over his windows so the light couldn’t get in (he forgot blackout curtains exist)

•his room smells like pennies, skunk weed, and foot stank

•is actually an incredible artist but acts like hes not. literally everyone loves his work except for him

•secretly loves cartoons. he loves taking bong rips and watching scooby-doo to escape reality :)

•has never had a healthy relationship with anyone in his life, usually just sticks to hookups

•its a miracle this man is still alive considering he survives off gas station snacks and week old sodas that have been sitting on his nightstand

•speaking of he once drank an old dr pepper after he forgot he put out a cigarette in it

•got a tramp stamp when he was blackout wasted

•writes random thoughts and draws little doodles all over his bedroom walls; it kind of looks like a mental asylum in there

•also his bed is literally just a blood stained mattress on the floor with no sheet and a singular pillow and blanket

•so fucking broke he will do anything for a hundred bucks

•writes the most foul hate comments under every post he disagrees with

•he loves video games, his favorite being postal 2 (hes OBSESSED)

[babyflorencee]

You're stuck with me

Regulus Black x fem!Reader

"I just don't understand why you're so upset over this," I said, with a confused expression.

"Y/n, how can you be so stupid? That guy was hitting on you harder than a hammer to a nail, and he was so damn obvious about it!" Regulus yelled, roughly running his hand through his Brown locks.

This had been going on for around 2 hours. All the yelling, screaming, and insults that were being spat at each other, just to prove a point, that neither of us was able to get across.

Why was Regulus so mad, you might ask? Well, he's mad because some guy at a diner asked for my phone number, and was just overall hitting on me the whole night, even though he was well aware that I was with Reggie. However, if it wasn't for Regulus' trust issues and lack of self-control, maybe we wouldn't have left the guy limp on the floor with a bullet between his eyes. "What? Am I not good enough for you so you have to go out and seek attention from other people!" he yelled, face red with anger.

Regulus has always been insecure about our relationship. He thought I deserved better, so when he said that, my heart immediately broke. However, I was still mad at him.

"Trust me babe, you're more than enough! But that's not what the problem is!" I yelled back, getting more and more annoyed with him.

"Then please, enlighten me with what the problem is!" He yelled, throwing his arms in the air like a madman.

"You want to know what the problem is? You're way too clingy, and you're jealous ALL the damn time. Like I get, I'm yours and only yours! Reg, we are literally engaged. I'm not going anywhere, so why the fuck can't you get that through that thick head of yours?" I yelled back, not thinking about what I was saying. However, what I said hurt him, and he wasn't about to let that comment slide.

"Jealous? Well, excuse me for not being content with the idea of another man's hands all over that body of yours. You know, the body that's mine, and only mine to see and touch!" The whole fight was pointless; we both knew this, but neither of us wanted to back down.

Regulus and I have been in a relationship for a little over 3 years. We very clearly loved each other with all our hearts. We have only fought four times in our entire relationship, but this fight was different, but in the worst way possible. The intrusive thought of Reggie and me breaking up started to seem less crazy.

"Listen, I don't like sharing. I never have, and I absolutely refuse to share you. I don't want to fight about this anymore. It's silly. Can we just agree to disagree that the whole thing is that guy's fault?" He said, as he opened his arms out for me, with a hopeful expression.

I didn't respond. I just walked over towards him, engulfing him in a tight hug. Regulus immediately starts burying his head into my neck, holding onto me as if I was going to disappear any minute. Once we pulled away, he refused to look at me, instead; he looked at the floor. "Can we cuddle?" He asked, his voice so quiet I could barely make out what he said.

"Of course," I took his hand in mine, smiling up at him.

Once we got to mine and Regulus' bedroom, I was immediately pulled on the bed, being crushed by Regulus' weight. After a few minutes of sitting in silence, I knew something was on his mind. "Hey Reg, what's wrong?" I asked, already having an idea of what he was going to say.

He sighed, rolling off of me so that he was on his side of the bed. "I hate fighting with you," he said, his voice breaking.

I pulled him into a tight hug, wishing that the fight had never happened. "I was scared, for a minute there, that we were going to break up," he mumbled, into my shoulder.

"Never in a million years," I whispered into his ear, entangling my hand into his hair.

"You're stuck with me," I said, laughing a little.

We lay back down, grasping onto each other as if our lives depended on it. "I'm glad that's over," Reg said, placing a kiss on my cheek, yawning.

"Night love," I said, rubbing his lower back until I eventually fell asleep.

[manheeiim]

chapter one: my last cheer

-- a ghostly love masterlist

September, 2003

I groaned as I shut my locker and adjusted my backpack. I was in no mood to go to cheer practice but really, I had no choice. I mean, I could skip, but my mom would definitely find out and she hated me missing practice so I already knew all the trouble I’d get into if I did that. I had no choice. So, despite how much I didn’t want to go, I trudged my way to the girl’s locker room.

I got out of my school clothes, into my cheer uniform and stuffed my bag into my locker, before shutting it and heading over to a mirror in front of one of the sinks to check how I looked. I attempted to put my hair into a ponytail but I just ended up failing miserably due to how distracted I was. I tried three times but it just wasn’t working out. I let out a groan, the other girl’s who were getting ready as well looking over at me as I aggressively took my hair tie off and put it on my wrist, once again, trudging out of the locker room annoyed.

I made my way into the gym where a bunch of mats were set up on the floor and a bunch of other people on the cheer squad were already here, stretching and warming up. I made my way over and started stretching, haphazardly. I had no energy to be here today, not that I ever really did, it was just especially bad today.

After ten more minutes, when everyone finally arrived, the cheer coach started talking. “Okay, guys! We’re going to start off with some tumbling. Get in three lines and I want the first people in the lines to do some cartwheels and so on.” The coach instructed us and so we all went to do as she said.

As I was standing in the front of the line, waiting for my turn, a girl on the team, Chloe, one of my close friends, tapped on my shoulder. I looked over at the girl who stood behind me in line. She was around 5 '4, she had straight medium-length blonde hair, fair skin that always seemed to glow, and dark blue eyes. She was so perfect. I was nowhere near as perfect as she was. I was 5 '7, had wavy or maybe even curly-ish dark brown almost black hair, my skin wasn’t as fair as hers, I had some acne, and dark brown dull eyes. I hated everything and anything about the way I looked. Guys at my school though, they seemed to disagree. They were always all over me and I could never understand it. I really couldn’t.

“You okay, Lucia?” Chloe asked with a small smile.

I wanted to smile back, I did, but I had no energy to do that. “Yep.” I lied as I turned forward, watching as the girls in front of me stepped off the mats, meaning it was my row's turn to go.

“Are you sure?” I heard Chloe say behind me but I just went and did the cartwheels down the mat, having no desire to talk about how I was feeling, especially not right now.

After tumbling and conditioning, we had to practice a bit for the spring pep rally that was tomorrow. I was one of the flyers tomorrow so I was a bit nervous, but honestly, I knew that I’d be fine as I had a lot of experience, thanks to my mom, and well, my teammates had never dropped me before.

When I flew and did a twist in the air, I didn’t exactly do it correctly which messed me up a little but still, as expected, my teammates caught me. I apologized as I never usually messed up. The coach yelled my name and motioned for me to go over to her.

“Lucia! What are you doing? You have to pay attention or you could get yourself seriously hurt!” She sternly told me.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry coach, I just have been-” I’m cut off.

“Uh-uh, no excuses. Get your head in the game and go up and do it again.” My coach says. I just look at her for a moment, “Go!” She then yelled and I ran to my teammates and went to practice again.

<3

The next afternoon, it was time for the pep rally. All the teams had to run across the field while the people in the bleachers cheered so, obviously, so did the cheer squad. The football team went before and us and everyone in the bleachers were screaming for them, stomping their feet, and just acting a fool. It was nice though, it meant they were having fun. I wasn’t.

“And now, give it up, for the Split River High cheer team!” The principal yelled over the stadium's loudspeakers. We ran out into the field, smiling and waving at the crowd and everyone was going crazy on the bleachers. We got to the center of the field and waved some more before running to the track to sit, watch the other teams go out, and get ready to perform for everyone.

We watched and waited for a little while before it was time for us to go out on the field and perform. Music being played from a CD started playing over the loudspeakers and we started our performance.

Things were going well, they really were. That was until I saw my mom, standing next to my coach, waving at me. Why was she even here? I didn’t want her to be here. 

After I took notice of my mom, I was distracted. I tried my best to not let it get to me though as I was literally performing in front of everyone and I had to go in the air in a few moments. I keep a fake smile on my face as I step onto my teammates hands. They lift me up and I go flying in the air. Once again, I did the twist incorrectly but instead of being caught, I fell on the floor in a bad position and everything went dark.

[starlight-bread-blog]

My Interpetation of The Southern Raiders: Part 2 – Zuko

Warning: The views expressed in this analysis will be somewhat uncritical of Zuko. If you aren't likely to agree, you aren't going to enjoy this post. This is your chance to leave. I probably won't have a debate for personal reasons.

——————

This is the second part out of a three part series trying to answer every question posed by the discourse on The Southern Raiders. If I take some things for granted, it's because I discussed them in part 1, in which I delve into A\ang's role in the episode. Today, I'll set my sights on Zuko.

——————

1. Was Zuko a negative influence on Katara?

No, he did not. When Zuko merely presents the possibility of tracking her mother’s killer, it cuts through her reply right to her already leaving. In literature, what isn’t in the text holds no relevance and is to be disregarded as mere speculation. We don’t see Zuko convincing her, therefore he had no influence on her, and that she made the choices she did because she wanted to.

All Zuko did later on was defend a decision Katara already made on her own. And in both the first and second disagreements with Aang she had the last word. Ergo she was making her own choice.

Additionally, before they enter the room of who they think was her mother’s killer, Zuko asks her if she’s ready. And when she finally spares Yon Rha, he supports her decision. If he were to influence her, he wouldn’t have done either of these things. He only wanted to help Katara heal and never brought up anything that wasn’t already there.

——————

2. Was Zuko being too harsh on Aang?

(1) That's cute, but this isn't air temple preschool. It's the real world.

(2) [Forgiveness]'s the same as doing nothing!

(3) Okay, we'll be sure to do that, guru goody-goody.

He was definitely disrespectful towards Aang's culture, although his disrespectful remarks are a response to Aang’s own disrespect, imposing his beliefs onto Katara. And he didn’t say that until after Aang compared Katara to Jet. It was still wrong to come after the Air Nomad teachings, but they’re not as insulting as people paint them to be.

And it’s not like he didn’t take them back by the end of the episode. Zuko had good intentions, made a mistake and learned from it. That’s how characters grow, through mistakes. (More on that later).

——————

3. What motivated Zuko to find Yon Rah?

He wanted to earn Katara’s trust. The show makes it explicitly clear.

Zuko: What can I do to make it up to you?

And so later:

Zuko: Katara mentioned it before when we were imprisoned together in Ba Sing Se, and again just now when she was yelling at me. I think somehow she's connected her anger at that to her anger at me.

I’ve seen many describe this motive as selfish or manipulative, but I have to disagree. He has no reason to do anything to earn Katara’s trust. He saved her life on that very day, is fully accepted into the GAang, and in this episode he found out that some of her anger at him is rooted in projection. But he still goes out of his way to do the impossible, to give Katara the closure she needs in order to put faith in him.

——————

4. Why did Zuko think revenge\murder would help Katara?

Katara is a kind soul and murder wouldn’t have helped her heal, but Zuko had good reasons to think it would have. He didn’t know Katara’s soul, she didn’t even consider him a colleague, at that point she hated him. However, he did see Sokka killing Combustion Man in The Western Air Temple. So he has no way of knowing whether revenge would help, but he’s under the impression that murder isn’t a big taboo at least for some of the GAang. (Edit: Katara threatened to take his life 3 episodes ago. He had every reason to believe murder could help her).

Moreover, he knows that the person who took his mother away from him will receive justice, and that it helps him sleep at night. Katara doesn’t have that, Yon Rha retired in peace. So he offers her the justice he knows helps him.

But the main reason why he thinks revenge would help Katara, is that she told him it will. Zuko plays a largely passive role in the episode, simply assisting Katara in whatever way he can.He’s only fulfilling Katara’s wishes, and she told him that her wish is to seek justice on “the monster”.

——————

5. Did the trip have an effect on Zuko?

It did. By the end of the episode, Zuko delivers the following line:

This is an important part of his arc of unlearning the Fire Nation’s black and white philosophy that values aggression above all else. He comes around to Air Nomad pacifism and non violent solutions from seeing them work first hand. And as the good (redeemed) person that he is, he admits he was wrong and changes his views. He grew as a character to become a better version of himself.

Edit: As I stated previously, Zuko didn't really know Katara until they went on the trip, which is part of why he thought murder could be of help. Now that he'd seen her journey in the episode, he knows her quite well (and won't make such offers again).

——————

In conclusion, despite the somewhat questionable nature of Zuko's actions in "The Southern Raiders", his underlying good intentions shine through. His role was not a devil on Katara’s shoulder, but a natural force backing up whatever decision she makes. And this allows him to emerge with a valuable lesson learned.

Continued

[hannamoon143]

Darkness is everything that remains

ships: hyunjin x fem reader

Genre: heavy Angst, Hurt/no comfort

warnings: death,crying,kinda depression ig,denial,su!cide,drowning,

words: 1,5 k

a/n: since these are heavy themes please don’t read it if you are not comfortable with any of them,cause i don’t want to trigger anyone with my writing. I'm sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes.Remember that you are a beautiful person,and never stop taking care of yourself.Drink enough,eat enough,sleep enough. I hope you have a great day. Enjoy <33

I just wanted something. Anything. I had everything till four months ago. But now i had nothing anymore.

I was dragging myself out the bathroom, only changing into some different clothes and then laying down at the bed. Our bed. And i wasn’t wearing just some clothes. It was my sweater.My sweater with the acrylic stains on it.I was trying so hard not to look at the wall in front of the bed. But i did anyways. Of course i didn’t look at the wall, i looked at the painting.His painting.

6 months ago

„knock knock“ i said,smiling at him while my head peeked through the door. „Come in love“ he didn’t look up from his painting but he smiled too.I could watch his smile forever. The depth of his dark eyes,the way his lips slowly turned upwards.

I went inside his room and sat at the chair besides him. „What are you painting hyunnie?“ i said,peeking over his shoulder. „It’s for our anniversary love, but now the surprise is destroyed. It’s the day at the beach.A stranger that was a photograph was randomly making photos, and he had to make one of us cause we were looking so in love he said.and he gave it to me. See? We are sitting there, the oceans breeze was making our hair go all messy but you still looked so beautiful. And you are holding the single rose i gave to you.“

While he explained it i looked at the painting. It wasn’t even finished yet, but it was beautiful.The colours made it seem so alive and i could see a happy hyunjin smiling at me with a loving look in his eye, while i was looking at the rose with a little smile, like it was the most precious thing i ever got. Of course it wasn’t. He was the most precious thing i ever got.

„Well i won’t disturb you then my love,wanna watch a movie together later?“

„Sure, you pick“ he said,smiling at me. Then he gave me a soft kiss with a hug, the acrylic paint now on my sweater too,but i didn’t care.

I couldn’t look at it any longer. I got up, slipping my shoes on and left my apartment. Our apartment. Where was i even going? I didn’t know to be honest. That means i did know. As if my body was mechanical i sat into my cold car, driving to him.

I got out of the car,walking to the love of my life Then i was in front of him. The past five months i never cried a single tear,gone entirely numb.But now? I broke down to my knees,starting to sob. „Why did you do this? Left me just like that? You promised me! You promised me that we would be forever together, hyunjin!Tell me,why forever is so short.“ I looked at all the flowers. From his family.From his best friends.From people that knew him. And in the middle of all these way to colourful flowers was the rose. Our rose. It was dried,and looked fragile. I took it into my trembling hands. „When you gifted me this,you said it stands for us.For our love. Where did all this go? Where did you go?“

The petals fell down on the cold ground. „No no no. Is that you trying to tell me that it’s over?! Are you trying to tell me that hyunjin? Because i disagree! You can’t just leave me like this,i won’t accept it. Remember you always telled me i’m so stubborn?And you were right! So i won’t give up!“ I yelled between choking sobs,trying to pick up the petals of the rose.

7 months ago:

„But you said i pick the movie, so i pick 10 things i hate about you.“ i pouted.

„Everything but this!“ hyunjin whined. „We watched this movie over five times only in the past three years and if i may remind you that since i know you we watched it fourteen times wich is way too much, i think i am allowed to say that we will watch something else.“

„But i love this movieee.and we didn’t watch it in the past four months soo-“

„What about we just watch The fault in our stars? It’s also romantic, and you like it too“

„But i wanna watch 10 things i hate about you!“

„You get to see my current artwork tomorrow if we watch something else.“

„10 things i hate about you.“

„I will get you everything you want when we go next shopping.“

„10 things i hate about you.“

Hyunjin sighed.But after a bit silence when i almost thought about giving in, because he looked annoyed for real now,he started smiling and just suddenly hugged me.

„Hey,is that another attempt to not have to watch 10 things i hate about you?“ i said, but with a giggle now.

„To be honest you are adorable when you are so stubborn.“ He said,brushing my hair out of my face betweent the cuddles,that were almost choking me. I acted annoyed and looked away but just had to start smiling when he planted soft kisses on each side of my cheeks.

„I love you,pabo.“i muttered into his hair.

„I love you too,my muse.“

Was it smart to go to his grave in the middle in the night? No

Was it even more stupid to drive to the beach in the middle of the night, with only petals of a rose and a bottle of water that was laying in my car for a year now? Yes it was.

I got out the car, taking the petals of the rose, that i wrapped up in an old hoodie of him. I walked towards the water.My mind was blank.I walked until my converse were soaked up with water.Now i was simply standing there and looking at the ocean. Looking at his promise.

8 months ago:

He broke the comfortable silence,that was only filled with the sounds of the waves.

„Do you see the blue ocean,love?“

i giggled. „Of course i can see it jinnie.“

He looked at me with a little smile,laying his head on my shoulder.

„If i am ever far away,then look at the ocean. Look at the waves always coming back to the sand of the beach. They will remind you that no matter where i am, or how far away i am, i will come back to you my love. I will always come back, because i love you, i always will. Never forget that.“

I looked at him.I simply looked at him and he started smiling.

„I love you too jinnie. So, so much.“

He smiled even more,kissing my forehead softly,and pulling me closer.

„I’m looking at the waves like you told me jinnie.And now? When will you come back? Cause i saw you.Saw how they put layers of earth on you. It didn’t seem like you would come back jinnie!“

I didn’t notice that i started crying again, and almost yelling the words into the cold night. I looked at the hoodie in my hands,with the petals of the rose in it. The worst was,it still smelled like him.Without thinking i went further into the freezing water.My whole legs were covered in the freezing waves of the ocean now.I smelled at the hoodie.I wanted to feel like everything would be okay one last time.Cause i knew that it wouldn’t be. This time he wouldn’t come home, craddle me in his arms, and let me sob into his chest. This time nothing would be okay again. I threw the hoodie as wide as possible into the turbulent water. The petals of the rose seemed like they were flying until they hit the water surface. i watched them get carried away by the ocean. Was this really the end?

The answer was yes. Yes it was,because nothing would ever be okay again.I didn’t want to live in a world without him. A world without love, without care, without comfort.

So i went further into the ice cold water. I went so wide until i was underwater. The waves, and the water were turbulent, because of the storm, that i didn’t even acknowledge until now. And i felt that i got carried away. Further into the darkness,further down. But i didn’t fight the water. Because maybe there was a little hope,that maybe after the darkness he would be standing somewhere, waiting for me.

So i let the darkness come.Until it’s everything left. Until my shattered heart stops beating.Until darkness is everything that remains.

a/n: if you know someone that might consider suicide or self harm help them. Sometimes a simple word,a text or a call can help.

[kyhgwts]

Draco Malfoy is a hopeless romantic, and i don’t care if people disagree. He’s such a great person to the person he loves.

You guys can’t tell me that Draco’s love language isn’t physical touch. Like sure gift giving is definitely a second, but physical is number one. He just can’t keep his hands off of you.

But that love language is ONLY given to you. Because he absolutely hates the thought of having his hands remotely close to anyone who isn’t you.

So being at a party, his hand on your lower back. Or being in class, both of his hands holding one of yours. His full weight laid on top of you, face buried into your neck when sleeping.

And, he always smelt like you and you always smelt like him. Your smells mixing, and becoming one of your own scents you shared together.

It’s not like he was clingy to the point it was overwhelming, he was just the right amount. And he knew how to make it so subtle.

As for his gift giving, it’s all meaningful it’s not just random gifts. They’re all meaningful, each and every one of them.

Say he finds out you like strawberries, then he would buy a small strawberry plant just for you. Or he gives you a super expensive locket necklace, and it stores a piece of the first flower that he has ever gotten you. He would even read a book you did, just so you can vent to him about it.

Sure he may seem like a heartless rich kid, but deep down he really knows how to show someone he loves them.

You hadn’t known how sweet and thoughtful he could actually be, until you started dating him. Even just the way he looks at you, it’s as if you could see the love in his eyes.

At a party, already having one too many drinks. He gives you a cup full of water leaning down to meet your eyes.

‘You getting tired yet?’ he asks, slight teasing in his tone. You smile nodding, his eyes so sweet. No one but you got to enjoy that look in his eyes.

You chug down the water he gave you, handing him the halfway full cup of liquor. He downs it, throwing the small cup away.

‘I think we can leave’ You yell at him, he grins guiding you out of the party saying bye to everyone you guys knew on the way out.

It felt like no one would believe you, if you had said Draco Malfoy was the most perfect boyfriend. For merlin’s sake, after your first date he kept your order from the three broomsticks in his wallet. After a while he had just memorized it, but he still kept the paper because he felt it meant too much to just throw it away.

He could be the definition of a person in love. He always went over the top for dates, and made sure they were perfect. It was weird in the sense that, he used to be so cruel and hate everyone (pretty much still does).

But you soon came to realize, he was excited to show his love to someone who actually wanted it. For the life of me, i can’t and won’t bring myself to believe Draco Malfoy would be a bad boyfriend. I just can’t do it. Because even though he’s been portrayed as the “bully and mean kid”, i don’t think he’d be that way to someone he truly loved and cherished.

[the-words-we-sung]

Thoughts and pictures - S3E5

And we're getting into the hard episodes...

This first scene is sad and terrible. The shot of the broken glasses and pink condom, the background so dirty and creepy... And my poor Wilhelm trying to deal with this new knowledge about his brother...

"You could say that W's lack of communication became rhetorical. [...] Was it a conscious strategy by W? [...] Maybe he was just in the wrong place, and chance decided his place in world history." -> So I have no idea what Valter and Henry are talking about but it's interesting that they say that just after the scene with Wilhelm and Erik's "words" during the awful initiation. Was Erik in the wrong place at the wrong time? (Also lack of communication: the big issue of Wilmon this season...)

Sara being immediately so suspicious when she comes back home to see Micke all happy and energetic. But also her little hopeful smile when he tells her she can drive him to the test to calm her nerves 😞

His mother is "trying to keep all of that" from him? Really? While his father keeps telling him he needs to be ready to take over? Ludwig sucks. And again telling Wille how perfect Erik was, that he didn't have this "darkness inside of him". Can't he ever have a real conversation with his son? Annnnd hanging up right when Wille was asking about Erik. I am so heartbroken for him 😟

I hate this scene >< Wilhelm is so mean to Simon. He lashes at him immediately. Simon doesn't even have time to answer anything and Wille is already accusing him of judging Erik. I know he's angry and hurt and lost but I hate how mean he can be in these situations...

I think it's really the moment that I realized how hard it was starting to be for me to believe in them as a couple. They can't communicate. Wilhelm is so hurt and lashes out at Simon as a result. And I've seen a lot of people saying how it was between Simon and Crown Prince Wilhelm that the communication was off and impossible, not between Simon and Wille, but I disagree with that: Wilhelm here is not the Crown Prince, he's a grieving teenager who's brother's perfect image just got shattered to pieces. And they still can't manage to talk.

Sara waiting for Micke to pick her up... Another heartbreak ><

Why is Wilhelm convinced that Simon was judging Erik?? He really didn't. And please please please, can't you just go back to your therapy sessions with Boris? You so badly need them Wille :/

"It fits you perfectly." In which universe did this blazer fit him perfectly Linda? xD Why did they choose something so big?

Sara breaking down... I had hoped for maybe a bit more, like an honest conversation between her and Simon before he forgave her, but the scene was still cute.

Wilhelm wearing a simple black jumper: yes please. He looks so good.

And another cute scene between them to make us forget how fucked up their relationship is right now... ^^'

And see? Wilhelm can decide some things and have his voice heard. He did well during his birthday ceremony thingy but then put his foot down and refused to have August come to his birthday dinner. He didn't yell, was very calm and assertive, and Farima said okay. The idea that he would be completely stuck behind a script to follow as Crown Prince (and then King) is absurd to me. He has a voice. He can actually makes things happen/change. (Yes I will die on this hill 😆)

(Okay the girls are just so cute in their little uniforms 🥰)

Cuties being friendly again !!

Gosh the difference between how lively the dinner at school is compared to the stiffness and silence of the birthday dinner >< And Kristina, girl, wtf are you doing... I know you're still trying to deal with Erik's death but was it really necessary to bring up how perfect he was during your other son's birthday >< Can't you be there for him? Can't you try harder to help him? To just be his mother when it's his birthday and he's officially introducing his boyfriend to you? 😩

I don't hate this scene between August and Sara. I appreciate the development and to see where they both are at that moment. Also this shot is very pretty!

And another bad scene between Wilhelm and Simon... Why does Wille keep being so mean? Again I know he's hurting so much but fuck. Why can't they actually talk to each other? Well, why can't Wille actually talk to Simon?

This scene between Wilhelm and his parents was so fucking important. So fucking needed. I'm just sad that it happened so late in the season. And that it didn't really change anything.

What can I say about this last scene? Edvin and Omar are incredibly good actors, their tear-streaked faces are heartbreaking. Simon breaking up with him was expected I guess at this point. It was really getting hard to believe in their relationship... But what a terrible moment to do it! I wanted something cute out of a scene when they're both in pajamas and sweatpants in Wille's bed 😩

So it is "easier" to watch these episodes now that I know exactly what's gonna happen, but it doesn't really make me like them more >< This episode was probably the first one that made me dislike Wilmon as a couple. And it's not a fun thing to realize ><

I'll try to wrap up this rewatch tomorrow with the last episode! (And I'm already trying to think about how I will deal with rewatching the whole show in the future, because this season is not giving me the happy happy butterflies that the 2 first did ><)

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! Part 37 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK OH FUCK!

TW- Violence

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, not hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @imusicaddict, @b00ks1ut , @mstiemountainhop, @awaterfalls, @lovememadly92 @lucyfromtheoldhouse @blueberry-ovaries anyone else please let me know.

We picked two replacements up on the way to the checkpoint, the two young men got into the back and chatted to Grant and I along the way. 

Grant was showing off to the young men telling terrible jokes and long winded stories. The two soldiers stared blankly at him as he finished his latest joke. 

The joke didn’t land from the silence of the back seat, their confusion sent me into hysterics, soon the replacements joined in too, not really knowing what they were laughing at. 

I think the boys just wanted to impress Grant, him being their senior and all. They laughed politely even when they had no clue what was going on. The men just seemed to be happy to be spoken to. 

We hadn’t made it to the checkpoint just yet but for some reason Grant slowed the jeep. I cast my eyes forward focussing on the scene ahead of us. Other cars were scattered along the sides of the road, some blocking the path altogether. My brows furrowed as I looked over to Grant who wore the same expression. 

The car pulled to a stop parking the car in the middle of the road. He had left some space between the scene in front of us and the car. We both dismounted the car, Grant requesting the men in the backseat to stay put as we walked closer to the cars scattered across the road. 

“You should get back into the car Em.” Grant told me, not looking at me as he spoke. 

“I think there is safety in numbers.” I disagreed with his statement, I wasn’t going to sit in the car and potentially watch him walk alone into danger.  

My gut swirled and my skin tingled, something wasn’t right about this situation. 

We approached the cars, I swallowed my gasp as it rose in my throat. Lying on the ground were bodies, multiple people unmoving in pools of blood. I looked at Grant, concern lined his features as he took in the same information. 

I bent down, my fingers finding the inside of the neck of the man closest to me. He was cold to the touch with no sign of life under my fingertips. It seemed he had been here for quite some time, as I tried to pull his eyelids shut but rigour mortis had already set in. 

Grant watched me, I looked up to him to shake my head, a silent exchange. We hadn’t uttered a word to each other since we had gotten closer, as if the sound of our voices would disturb a monster lurking in the shadows. 

As if my thoughts had been said aloud, a man appeared from the darkness. Goosebumps rose on my skin and bile in my throat. The way he moved was unsettling, as if there weren’t bodies laying at our feet.   

I didn’t recognise the man, but he wore an American uniform, so he had to be one of ours. Grant gestured for me to come close to him, we had been on separate sides of the road. His hand was outstretched for mine. I rose from my position slowly trying not to spook the man now standing before us. 

My hand reached out for Grants as he took mine, he subtly pulled me behind him, stepping in front of me. My stomach churned, my breathing erratic. The voice inside my head called for me to drag Chuck back to the jeep and leave. But I stood silently, a pace behind Grant, still gripping his hand like a lifeline.  

“You ok man? Do you need some help?” Grant asked tentatively. His voice in the silent night made it seem as if he was yelling. I tried to even out my breaths. 

Grant’s question made the man stagger closer to us. I felt the blood drain from my face as my eyes focussed on the gun in his hand. The man laughed, smiling at us in the darkness. That action alone sent chills up my spine as the hairs on my neck stood on end. My grip grew even tighter on Chuck’s hand. I was silently begging him to leave with me. But instead he did the opposite, dropping my hand to my side. 

He glanced over his shoulder, a weary look on his face, he was trying to distance me from the man. I bit my tongue, but I couldn’t urge my feet to move forward. I was frozen watching Grant approach the man alone. 

“They wouldn’t give me any gas.” The man's slurs pulled our gazes from each other. We watched him cautiously like a wild animal, we had no idea what he was capable of.   

The drunk man motioned with the gun to the people who lay lifeless on the ground. I had only assumed, but his actions made it clear. He had killed them. This man was dangerous. 

“Krauts!” The man bent forward screaming at the dead man on the floor. I begged for my mouth to work, for my feet to work but all I could do was stand still watching in pure horror. My heartbeat fought to muffle all other sounds in my ears. Tears pricked my eyes, I didn’t care if they were Krauts he took their lives in cold blood, over gas.  

Grant moved forward. I whimpered silently. I willed him to stop with my eyes but he wasn’t looking at me, he hadn’t taken his eyes off of the soldier. He was inching closer to someone we couldn’t trust, who had killed over something as simple as gas. If we weren’t careful we could be on the receiving end of the weapon he carelessly flung about. 

The soldier stumbled away back to his jeep, turning his back on us. I finally willed my feet to move forward. The crunch of gravel underfoot seemed to be louder than bombs with each step I took. Grant must’ve felt the same way as his head snapped over his shoulder to look at me. He subtly shook his head, he was going to handle this. I was going to fight him over it but our second of refuge was soon shattered. 

Grant walked closer again to the man. I let the cry of protest die in my throat. 

“I tried to explain, this fucking limey wouldn’t listen. I think he was a Major.” The man’s words strung together in a long sentence as he again motioned to the man who was clearly dead. The man was an American Major, fuck. We’re fucked. 

“Hey private, we’ve got a problem here.” Grant spoke in an even tone. All I could do was watch, tears pricked in my eyes. We needed to get out of here, but we were already in too deep, there was no way out of this.  

“You got any gas?” The private asked with a vicious grin plastered on his face. He acted like Chuck hadn’t even spoken. 

“Why don’t you give me your weapon.” It wasn’t a question, Grant was going to take the gun off of the man whether he wanted him to or not. Chucked stepped forward, his hand outstretched readying to remove the weapon from the man himself. I stood still, my hands clasped together, I could feel my nails digging into my palms and the sheen of sweat that lined my brow.  

“I guess I’ll use his jeep, I-I don’t think he’s going to be needing it.” The man wandered away, back to the jeep the Major slumped beside. 

“Hold on a second there alright.” Grant yelled at the man, surging forward. It all happened too fast or too slow. I wasn’t sure. It all became a blur in the end. Grant’s actions caused the man to swing around from his journey back to the car, he raised his weapon with no hesitation. 

BANG. 

The shot rippled through the still night air. I watched the bullet leave from the gun, straight into Grant’s fucking head. With a sickening crack his head took the brunt of the force, his neck snapped to the side. Blood splattered as Grant crumpled to the ground. 

My screams pierced the air as I ran forward trying desperately to catch Chuck before he hit the ground, but I wasn’t fast enough. His dead weight crashing to the ground. 

I sobbed kneeling beside Grant as I took his torso into my lap. 

“Grant!” I wailed, his eyes rolled back in his head as his breathing became shallow. I pressed my hand to the injury trying to stop the bleeding but his blood seeped between my fingers and onto my pants.   

I couldn’t hear anything over my sobs. I didn’t know if the replacements had seen what happened or if they were calling for help. I didn’t even know where the man had gone. 

Turns out I should’ve been paying more attention. A pained scream strangled from my throat. A hand firmly gripped my hair and yanked me backwards. The force propelled me back, as my hands scrambled to release the death grip that tore the hair from my skull. My legs kicked out from beneath me, the hand not giving me enough time to find my footing. I screamed in pain as I was dragged all the way to the jeep. 

I looked up to find him. The soldier. But he wasn’t just the soldier that murdered my friend and took other innocent lives. His eyes were familiar. I wasn’t close enough to see it before. 

He’s the man from the bar. 

*************************************

Chapter 38