#and there’s no excuse to do it with me because i’ve been so loving and patient and understanding with EVERYTHING

[starryylies]

What about Si with a reader who's giving him the silent treatment? I feel like at first he'd be like "fine whatever" but after like 10 minutes he begs his princess to talk to him

Silent treatment and Simon

Hii thank you sm for the ask! I loved writing it <33

Sorry if it got a bit self indulgent though.

It’s heavy on comfort so hope you enjoy!

You’ve been ‘off’ Simon could tell something’s going on but he couldn’t pin point why it’s going wrong.

Youve been ignoring him since he came home that night after his deployment, giving him short and curt greetings and replies a contrast to your sweet and elaborated ones.

He thought he’d let you deal with whatever you’re going through without butting in.

But no,

Just no

He couldn’t stand there and watch his baby look so down,

He couldn’t stand not hearing your sweet voice echo in the room.

He couldn’t stand the thought that you’re getting tired of him.

He was an overthinking wreck,

All possible ideas came to his mind as to why you’re ignoring him.

“Maybe she’s tired of me, ‘m a fucking mess aren’t I.”

“Maybe she found someone else, someone her own age. Nah fuck no, she wouldn’t do that. Would she..?”

His mind was going on overdrive and he broke down.

And now he found himself marching up to your shared room where you sat on your bed watching a movie.

He turned off the movie and put you on his lap.

“Love what’s happenin’ whys my baby ignoring me huh? Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

“Are ya tired of me?”

He croaked out the last question, tears welling up in his eyes.

You looked at Simon as if you’d seen a ghost

“You really think I’ll be tired of you? I’m here thinking yr’ gonna be tired of me” you confessed with tears welling up in your eyes now.

“It’s just that, I know I can be a piece of work sometimes. I probably just make life harder for ya so I thought maybe keeping my mouth shut wouldn’t annoy ya like I annoy others.”

Simon is hurt to hear you say that, how could you think you annoy him. He fights to come home so he can listen to your sweet voice and look at that pretty face.

And who the fuck told you you’re annoying?

He holds it in him to ask that later because he doesn’t want to stray from the conversation going on but he makes a mental note to give them a personal visit when you’re done

“I don’t even know why you’re with me there’s so many people out there who are better, prettier, more competent.”

“I’m nothing si,I’m not the girl you make me out to be. I’m so scared of the day you start seeing me the way I see myself”

Simon felt his heart break in pieces when he heard you say such cruel things about yourself.

How could he feel okay when the love of his life thought so badly about herself

How could he show you you’re the prettiest and the only woman that matters in his life

“Ya fucking stupid?”

He asked curtly, regretting his harsh words the second he spit them out.

“Excuse me?”

“No genuinely are ya fucking stupid, you fucking think I’ll get tired of you- the first and the only thing that’s ever mattered to me?”

“Fuckin’ hell lovie you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve seen and yr’ important person in my life.”

“Ya think you make life tougher for me? Ever since you’ve come in my life you’ve made it liveable, you made life seem something worth experiencing, I was just blood and guns before I met you, now I’m a person”

“Fuck id kill for you, die for you, do anything for you. You seriously believe I’ll ever get tired of ya? Because if you do I’m sorry to say you’re a fuckin’ idiot”

Tears prickle down your face as you hear his confession,

You’ve been feeling so insecure, so incapable and so unlovable these past months when simon was away, you’d forgotten how much he loves you.

You cried into his chest, gripping onto him and nestling yourself in his arms.

His beefy arms rubbed your back as he cood at you, telling you how much he loves ya and how he will never get tired of you.

[akookminsupporter]

The way Jimin Solos and Jungkook Solos are behaving over the voting for AYS is exactly why I find it so difficult to tolerate Solos as a whole. It’s not just tiring—it’s completely disheartening to witness the same self-serving behaviour repeated time and time again when it comes to Jimin and Jungkook together. They always seem to twist every situation to fit their own agenda, completely disregarding the bigger picture or the intentions behind what Jimin and Jungkook have chosen to share with us. Instead of taking a moment to appreciate the effort, thought, and heart these two put into their work, Solos turn it into yet another battleground to push their narratives.

I can understand that not everyone is going to love AYS. People are entitled to their opinions, and it’s fine if the show wasn’t your cup of tea. We all have different tastes, and that’s normal. But there’s a huge difference between simply not enjoying something and outright disrespecting Jimin and Jungkook for it. Insulting and dismissing something they wanted to do for their fans, something they made time for despite all their other commitments, and, more importantly, insulting something they were genuinely so happy to do—is crossing a line.

They wanted to give their fans a glimpse into their dynamic, their friendship, and a side of their relationship we rarely get to see. For them to share something so happy and honest, only for it to be picked apart and dismissed by people who claim to ‘support’ them, is just… sad.

This kind of behaviour only reinforces why I’ll never understand or respect people who act this way but claim to be their fans. Instead of celebrating what Jimin and Jungkook worked so hard on, these people find every excuse to tear it down, nitpicking the details or dismissing it outright because it doesn’t align with their version of events. It’s not only petty and ungrateful—it’s embarrassing.

Jimin and Jungkook didn’t owe us AYS. They didn’t owe us their time. They chose to share this with us out of love for their fans, and instead of seeing it for what it is—a gift, a moment of connection—some people have decided to treat it like a platform for division and negativity. It’s frustrating, it’s disappointing, and it’s exactly why I’ve never been able to take Solos seriously. At the end of the day, they’re not here to support Jimin or Jungkook as individuals—they’re here to serve their own egos and agendas.

For me, this goes beyond AYS. It’s a pattern of behaviour that rears its ugly head every time Jimin or Jungkook do something that doesn’t fit the narrow narratives Solos want to believe in or not, every time they do something TOGETHER. It’s exhausting to see people who claim to be fans constantly undermine and disrespect the very people they’re supposed to support. If you truly cared about Jimin and Jungkook, you’d respect their choices, celebrate their efforts, and appreciate what they’ve shared with us. But clearly, for some, that’s asking too much.

[babydollslibrary]

KARMA— JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

published: February 13th, 2023

summary: in which y/n’s ex-best friend has been gossiping behind y/n’s back saying that Jack should be with her instead, so y/n shows that karma goes both ways.

specific lyrics: “you’re talking shit, for the hell of it. addicted to betrayal.” and “ask me what i learned from all those years. ask me what i earned from all those tears.” and “karma is my boyfriend, karma is a god, karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend, karma’s a relaxing thought”

warnings: toxic friendship mentions, light profanity

GIF by teex

“did you hear about what Carley said last week?” i hear as soon as i sit down in my seat at brunch.

“no.” i shake my head. “what did she say now?”

“she was out with her friends, and Nicole and Jesper were sat by her at the restaurant; overheard her saying that Jack should be with her instead of you. apparently she’s convinced that he’s only pitying you and she deserves him because she’s ‘richer, prettier, and has more followers’.” Ryleigh says. “what a bitch! i can’t believe you were ever friends with her.“

“karma is a bitch, it’ll get to her one day.” i shrug. “she wasn’t much different when we were friends. claimed i ‘stole’ Jack from her because ‘she saw him first’, but he and i had already been dating by the time she saw him. we just hadn’t been public yet.”

“but, you’re literally the sweetest person i’ve ever met. i’m just saying, i don’t understand how you could’ve been friends with her for so long.” Darya chimes in, setting her mimosa down in front of her.

“i was friends with her since we were ten, she’s always been this way. a lot of my tears were from her hand. she insisted she would do things in the name of friendship and ‘bettering me’, but eventually, i learned that she was just a horrible person and i should stop excusing her actions. as i said, karma will get to her eventually.” i explain as i scan the menu in front of me. i know how Carley is. it doesn’t exactly surprise me that she’s talking bad about me, she used to do it even while we were friends.

“well, karma isn’t coming fast enough. that girl needs to be humbled soon.” Ryleigh exclaims and Darya nods in agreement. before i can respond, the waiter comes to take our orders and the subject changes.

**

i’m sat in glass seats at a Devils home game, waiting for them to come out for warmups. i switch between glass seats and the WAGS box every few games. i like hanging out with the girls but, i love to see the smile on Jack’s face when the Devils score. especially when he scores and he gets to look over at me and see that i watched and that i’m cheering for him. it’s not too long before warmups start that someone sits at the end of my row, and i look over to see Carley and one of her friends. i choose to ignore her and the looks i know she’s giving me. i have a right to be here, and she’s allowed to come to a game if she wants, i don’t control that. it’s when the warmups start that i have a problem with her. i’m looking down at my phone, texting Ryleigh when Jack skates by, banging a hand on the glass in front of me to get my attention. i startle, jumping in my seat and dropping my phone, and he laughs.

“hi baby!” i immediately recognize the voice yelling down the row. i look over to see Carley staring straight at Jack as he skates past her. he turns around, skating backwards and giving her a weird look before looking at me with a ‘what the fuck?’ face. i shrug my shoulders. what possessed her to make her think that calling my boyfriend ‘baby’ is okay?

i let the comment roll off my back, it’s whatever. i know that Jack has tons of fans, he’s talented, he’s hot, he’s sweet, he’s a total package, i get it.

“score a goal for me tonight, babe!” i hear her call out. that’s when my problem starts. and my anger only increases after warmups, when i overhear her talking to her friend. “eventually, he’s gonna realize how much better he can do than y/n. and i’ll be there with open arms when he does.”

i remind myself to stay in my seat. i’ve turned a blind eye to her glares, i’ve let her gossiping fall on deaf ears instead of making a scene or causing drama, and i know it’ll be worth it in the end. i was raised to remember that karma is a powerful thing, and that it goes both ways. you do bad things, something will knock you down a peg. you do good things, you’ll have good luck. it’s common sense. but apparently she didn’t get the message.

**

“babe, come look at this!” Jack calls to me from our bed. it’s officially the off season and Jack and i have been at the Hughes lake house for the past couple days. it’s been nice being surrounded by his family and even a few of our friends.

“what’s up, love?” i ask, walking out of the closet where i was picking out a cover up to wear out on the boat. i slip the sundress i chose over my head and pull it down over my bikini.

“come see what Bratter just sent me.” i flop myself down on the bed next to him, laying on my side and cuddling into him, an arm wrapping around his torso. he tilts his phone screen towards me and i read the text that Jesper sent him.

—

From: Jesper Bratt

took Nicole out to lunch and she pointed out a girl that she said is obsessed with you. said her name was Carley. heard her talking to someone, saying you guys were destined to be together 😂 even heard her say that y/n isn’t good enough for you? does this girl have nothing better to do?

—

“she really just won’t stop, will she?” my question is rhetorical but Jack answers anyways.

“she’ll get the message soon enough. i don’t want her.” his words make me furrow my brows but i nod anyways. “you ready to head out?”

“yeah, let’s go.” we stand from the bed, making our way out of the bedroom and down the stairs, meeting the others in the living room before heading down to the dock and onto the boat. i sit and watch as all the guys take turns wakesurfing, choosing not to participate and instead enjoying the summer evening air.

“babe! babe, c’mere!” Jack calls from the back of the boat, where he’s currently wakesurfing. i stand, walking over and bending over the back of the boat so i can hear him.

“look at you, superstar!” i chime, grinning at him. he laughs and shakes his head.

“no, i wanted to say that i wanna take you on a walk around the lake when we get back.” i admire his smile for a few moments, just nodding in response and watching his face all lit up with joy. this man makes me so happy.

i keep myself rooted in that spot until he decides he’s done and gets back on the boat, letting Luke take his place. he looks at me with a wicked grin and i know exactly what he’s planning to do, but the boat is only so big and he catches me quite easily. pulling me to him, getting me wet with the cold water dripping from his hair and body. i shiver and let out a squeal; halfheartedly attempting to push him away. i feel my feet lift off the ground as Jack moves over to the bench seats, sitting down and pulling me onto his lap.

“now my cover up is all wet!” i feign a pout, but all he does is laugh, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose.

“i’ll make it up to you. promise.” he squeezes me tighter to his chest and i shuffle down in order to lay my head on his chest, getting the side of my face wet in the process, but i don’t care. “i love you.”

“i love you too.” i smile, turning my head slightly to lay a kiss on his chest.

*

when we park back at the dock, Jack lets the guys know we’ll be back up to the house soon and pulls his hoodie over his head. he slings one arm around my shoulders, holding me to his side, and sticks his free hand in his hoodie pocket. we continue to walk along the lakeside in silence, just enjoying the last moments of sunset and the sounds of nature. i stop Jack a few times in order to point out pretty birds or various other beautiful nature moments. i let go of him once more, stepping closer to the water and letting him fall behind me.

“Jack, look at the way the sunset is reflecting off the lake! it’s gorgeous.” i turn to look back at him, checking to see i have his attention, but when i catch sight of him, one knee on the ground with a ring box opened in his hands and a watery smile on his face, my hands fly up to my mouth.

“y/n, i texted Quinn right after i met you, telling him i just met the love of my life. at the time, i thought maybe i was over exaggerating, but then i got to know you, and i knew i wasn’t. these past two and a half years with you have been the best of my life, and i was hoping you’ll choose to continue that. y/f/n, will you marry me?” his voice wavers, laced with emotion, and tears spring to my eyes.

“yes. god, yes! a million times yes!” i exclaim and he takes my hand, slipping the ring in my finger as he stands and i pull him into a kiss. my hands hold his face to mine and he grips my hips. pulling away, i wipe the tears from his cheeks and then mine. “i love you so much.”

“i love you so much more, pretty girl.”

—

@itsmey/n just posted

Liked by @_quinnhughes and 26,372 others

@itsmey/n summer nights 🤍

karma is so good to me

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@user1 THEY’RE ENGAGED?! THIS IS SO EXCITING

@_quinnhughes congrats guys! welcome to the family y/n

@itsmey/n thank you huggy!

@user2 OMG!

@jackhughes my forever girl ❤️💍

@itsmey/n so grateful for you

@trevorzegras congrats you two! happy for you guys!

@itsmey/n thank you, z! better clear some time from your summer golfing schedule next year!

[justiceiscalling]

i feel like something that’s not talked about enough in YJ (show) is the amazing plot line of roy (will) being a fucking clone. like oh my god to 13 year old me that was such a fucking plot twist—guarantee if i watched it now it would still be a plot twist to me.

like, wills a clone, he’s handling it terribly (like one would) but he knows he has to find the real roy, he won’t ever stop looking until he finds the real roy. and the heartbreaking part? he’s the only one.

ollie and dinah and dick and basically everyone could not care less about real roy. dick literally said ‘we did the math, we never even met real roy’ and just decided roy wasn’t worth looking for. and, kind of understandably (but also not), ollie gave up. but you know what’s really the worst part? the real icing on the cake? will finds him.

he finds roy.

will has to tell roy that his family, his team, gave up on him. nightwing and artemis and kid flash and them—they’re excused. because why would people who don’t know him look for him? but ollie? dinah? he met them. roy built relationships and partnerships with them and the only person who looked for him was a fucking clone. and not because the clone loved him or missed him, because will had felt guilty for stealing roy’s life.

i’m so sad how that story line kinda fell flat. we could’ve gotten so much more. i wanted to see roy adapting to this, i wanted to see more of will searching for roy. im not even going to lie, i wanted one of them to struggle with addiction. i think roy and wills characters are just so fucking interesting.

imagine a fifth season where real roy meets red hood jason. imagine how well they’d fucking bond. because, i’m not 100% sure but didn’t roy not age? so he’s around jason’s age. and, anyway, you just know those two have so much in common. they both also missed out on so much with being dead and kidnapped. plus, it takes away from the thing most people hate about the jason and roy friendship. in YJ, roy was never friends with dick. dick was friends with will, made it abundantly clear when he stopped looking for roy.

and since YJ’s pretty open to LGBTQ aspects… well i think you know what im implying. i’d be happy either way. jason and roy make good best friends—i really do think they could also make good more than best friends.

so, in conclusion, the roy-will clone storyline was the best fucking thing i’ve ever seen, even if i do wish they expanded on it more. if there’s ever a season five, YJ creators i am begging you make that happen, it’s literally the most incredible opportunity and would be such an amazing friendship (or more than friendship) to develop to show ‘hey real roy’s life isn’t all that shitty!’. of course, as a side plot to the whole wally’s-been-stuck-in-the-speed-force-and-isn’t-actually-dead storyline.

[hihomeghere]

Prompt 53 and 45 with javier?

Word Count : 1.2k

Warnings/tags : Cursing, angst, happy ending

Prompt: "You heard me. Take. It. Off.” "Do I look like I’ve moved on?”

Divider by @saradika

I couldn’t wait until tomorrow, so y’all get it a day early

Sean was back, which was cause for celebration. Everyone’s spirits were high, if not by the great news then by the copious amounts of alcohol that were flowing through camp. A slight chill blew through camp as the sun descended past the horizon. You could hardly feel it, your cheeks flushed from the beer you had gleefully partaken in. 

It felt good, having something to celebrate after all the damn hardship you’d been dealing with. The mess that happened back in Blackwater, on the run from the law and Pinkertons alike. Even if what you were celebrating was the return of a foul-mouthed Irish man, instead of some prodigal son. Although if you asked Dutch, they were one in the same. The evening had been going so well you had almost forgotten about Javier. Almost. But that infectious melody from his guitar strings had managed to wind its way over to where you were sitting. You could even hear it over Dutch’s gramophone. His voice carried through camp, as he spoke words you couldn’t quite understand, but ones that you could feel. Ones that made your heart clench painfully in your chest. 

You tried to better your mood, uncapping another bottle as you watched Karen and Sean. A small smile tugged at your lips, you were happy for her, truly. Even if she cursed his name half the time, you could see how much she loved the man. And he seemed to be pretty smitten with her, too. Told half the camp in too much detail about how he felt for her, well what he’d do to her. 

A bitter feeling started to settle in your belly as you took another swig, your own romantic predicament weighing heavily on your mind. 

Javier.

You huffed, pushing yourself off the crate you were sitting on. Perhaps you just had to get closer to the gramophone to fully block out his voice. You plopped yourself down on the grass in front of Dutch’s tent. Nursing your beer as Dutch spun Molly around.

“Lookin’ a little down there miss.” Arthur’s voice rang out, an easy smile on his lips. “Up we go” He said, holding out his hand for you to take. You sighed, letting him pull you to your feet. “Reckon you’ve had about enough of this.” He said, gently taking the bottle out of your grasp. 

“Arthur.” You huffed, shooting him your best glare. 

“Excuse me.” He chuckled, holding up a hand in surrender. “Would a dance make it up to ya?” He asked. You hummed, pretending to mull it over.

“Alright, fine. But only because you look so terribly lonely.” You said, your words relating to your own situation rather than his.

“Unfortunately miss, that is too true.” He said with a small chuckle, spinning you around in a small circle. 

“Why ain’t you dancing with someone you like?” You asked, your hand returning to his shoulder.

“I like you, now don’t I?” He said with a small pout.

“You know what I mean.” You said, rolling your eyes.

“Well I could ask you the same question.” He said with an amused huff.

“I don’t like anyone in camp.” You huffed, wishing you hadn’t said anything at all. Arthur had a way of drawing the truth out of you, too much like Hosea in that regard.

“You and Javier still hung up on that little quarrel?” He asked, furrowing his brows. “Life’s too short.” He shook his head, “One of you's got to be the bigger person here. Don’t let something as stupid as pride keep ya from each other.” You pursed your lips, avoiding his eyes as you danced. You knew he was right, you still loved Javier, even if he was a bastard sometimes. 

“You outta be wearin’ a coat, don’t need ya getting sick.” He sighed, pulling away from you to shrug off his jacket. He placed it around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “Think we got ourselves an audience.” He mummured into your ear, your eyes flicked upwards. You hadn’t noticed a certain guitar had stopped playing. You caught Javier’s piercing gaze, his lips pulled down in a frown. Arthur kissed your forehead before pulling away, and you swore you saw fire dance in his dark eyes. You tore your eyes away from him, walking towards the Pearsons wagon. You had to get something in your belly before the night was over, or you knew you’d regret it in the morning. But with the amount of butterflies currently swarming in your stomach, eating was the last thing you wanted to do. 

“Take it off.” You jumped, turning to find Javier standing a few feet from you. His arms crossed over his chest as he glared at you.

“Pardon me?” You asked, furrowing your brows as you tried to calm your racing heart.

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.” His tone was indisputable, his dark eyes shooting straight through you. You had once upon a time loved that they seemed to see through you, able to pull you apart at the seams. Now you just wished he’d look away. 

“The hell are you talking about?” You huffed, crossing your arms. 

“La chaqueta- the jacket.” He huffed, throwing his hand up. Irritation laced in his tone. You wrinkled your nose, looking down at yourself. Why did he want you to take it off so bad? “So Arthur’s your new lover, hm?” He growled, his eyes narrowing.

“My new lover?-“ You scoffed, shaking your head, “Do I look like I’ve moved on?”

“It seems pretty clear to me.” He huffed, motioning to his coat. 

“Oh lord, it was cold! It is cold. He was being a gentleman.” You threw up your hands, rolling your eyes. The two of you glared at each other, the air thickening as though a lightning storm was brewing. You gave in, shrugging off Arthur’s coat. “There, happy?” You asked, folding his coat under your arm. His lip twitched, but he didn’t say anything. “Unbelievable.” You muttered, pushing past him. His hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist. 

“If you were cold you should have come to me.” He huffed.

“And why’s that?” You snapped, “You made it clear there was nothing between us.”

“There is everything between us!” He said, tightening his grip on your wrist. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make sure you couldn’t escape from the conversation. “Everything. You have crawled under my skin, where I go- you go. Stealing my heart away like a damn thief in the night.” He was rambling, the words spilling front his lips like water from a font. “I wake and my first thought is of you. I cannot eat, drink, rest, without thinking of you. So do not tell me there is nothing between us.” His chest was heaving with each breath, his eyes wild as he stared at you. 

You threw yourself forward, crashing your lips against his. His facial hair tickled your lip, your hands grasping his face as you pulled him closer. He wasted no time in reciprocating your actions, his hands gripped your waist, holding you tightly against him. You only parted for air, panting as you pressed your forehead against his. 

“You are a foolish man.” You whispered breathlessly, looking up into his mocha eyes.

“For you? Always.”

[aclockworkreader]

i would love to hear your opinion on the “kallmekris” booktok discourse that’s going on rn (if you’ve seen it). i feel like there needs to be a conversation about how a lot of the books that are recommended on tiktok in the “spicy” book genre simply just romanticize abuse (a point brought up in the kallmekris YouTube video). it’s driving me crazy how many takes i’ve seen along the lines of “just let women enjoy things” or “they’re just books, it’s fiction”. which just feels lazy. i think people are refusing to think critically about this topic because they enjoy the books. but you can enjoy something while also acknowledging that it can be harmful. idk i would love to hear your thoughts!

i’ve mostly seen the discourse about the discourse loll. i think i’m a bit removed from most of booktok on my fyp. and i haven’t watched the original video, so i can’t speak on the contents of it or say whether i agree or disagree with her.

but this is a topic i’ve thought about a lot and i’ve even considered making a video on it, so i will say this:

i think we’ve seen, in the last few years especially, a significant rise in people refusing think critically about any content they consume. they always use the “it’s not that deep” or “let people enjoy things” excuse whenever someone has a valid criticism, or even just points out something factual about the content they enjoy. i’ve said this before and i’ll repeat it ad infinitum, but that’s anti intellectualism at work and it’s deeply dangerous. as you said, you can and should be able to enjoy something while understanding that it can also have problems. and i invite the people who really believe that it’s “not that deep” to stay and for a few minutes consider that maybe it is that deep.

i’m not sure if the original creator was talking about all “spicy” books or a particular genre of spicy books (like dark romance, sports romance, erotica in general, etc). but i definitely do think that some of the most popular booktok books do romanticize abuse. i’ve read enough colleen hoover to know that that’s true, and i’m sure her books are tame compared to some of the dark romance novels.

my controversial take (that i honestly don’t think is that controversial, i just don’t hear many people say it out loud) is that most of the people who are deeply obsessed with those booktok books have a ton of internalized misogyny to unpack—which is why they either can’t see or refuse to see the problematic elements within that content, because then they’d have to examine it within themselves. those books uphold and perpetuate deeply hegemonic ideas about gender and sexuality (particularly in cis, straight relationships) and many of their readers hold those same beliefs.

the way i feel about this is similar to how i feel about women and our relationship to wearing make up/removing body hair/etc. we’ve been fed this lie that we wear make up for ourselves and shave because it makes us “feel good” (i blame terfs and choice feminism), but with few exceptions, that’s not true. we do it because we’re trying to fit a social norm that was created to uphold heteropatriarchy. we do it as gender performance. i still wear makeup! i still shave! but i know that’s why i do it and i’m honest with myself about it. and the same goes for these types of books. you don’t like stalker romances simply because you think they’re dark and sexy. you think they’re dark and sexy because patriarchy has ingrained in you that men disregarding consent and overstepping your boundaries again and again should be acceptable if he’s attractive enough. you can still read them, you can still enjoy them, just think critically.

there are obviously nuances and exceptions to all of this, and there are stories that explore themes of abuse without trivializing or romanticizing them (ie. a lot of horror and gothic romance), but that’s a whole other conversation.

honestly, i could talk about this for hours and i have so much more to say so this is a really condensed (lol i know) version of my thoughts, but i hope it gives you a good sense of how i feel.

[nerdycheol]

Hii!! Can I request Vernon + "Is everything a joke to you?"

I'm a killer for angst and I just love crying to it 😭😭

😭 i am a sucker for angst anon, here is your request i hope i did justice to your thought --

The clock on the wall ticked loudly, its rhythm amplifying the emptiness in the room. You sat at the table, a half-melted candle in the center, next to a cake you had spent all afternoon making. Your phone sat beside you, untouched, except for the countless times you had checked it, hoping for a message or a call.

It was your anniversary—three years together—and you’d thought tonight would be different. You’d planned something simple, something special. But the dinner had gone cold, the wine unopened, and Vernon still wasn’t here.

When the front door finally opened, the sound of his footsteps was so familiar that it almost hurt. You didn’t turn around, not at first, letting him fumble with his shoes and sigh as he dropped his bag on the floor.

“Hey,” he said, his tone casual, as if he hadn’t just walked in two hours late.

You turned slowly, your face unreadable, though your chest felt like it might cave in from the weight of everything you’d been holding in. “You’re late.”

He blinked, glancing at the table for the first time. His eyes landed on the candle, the untouched food, the cake. “Oh.”

“Oh?” you repeated, your voice calm but trembling at the edges. “That’s all you have to say?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, already defensive. “I got caught up at the studio. I told you it might run late.”

“You didn’t tell me it would be this late,” you replied, your voice sharper now. “And you didn’t even think to call or text?”

Vernon sighed, clearly irritated. “I didn’t realize it was such a big deal. It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve been late.”

“No,” you said bitterly, standing now. “It’s not the first time. That’s exactly the problem, Vernon. It’s always like this.”

He frowned, his brows knitting together. “You’re overreacting. I didn’t miss anything that important—”

You cut him off, your voice breaking. “Not that important? Do you even realize what today is?”

He opened his mouth, hesitating for a moment, and you saw it—his realization. The flicker of guilt in his eyes. But it wasn’t enough.

“God,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. “You forgot. Again.”

“I didn’t forget,” he said quickly, but the lie was too obvious, too weak. “I just... lost track of time.”

“That’s not the same thing!” you yelled, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “You always have an excuse, Vernon. Every time. And I always let it go because I tell myself you didn’t mean to, that you’re just busy, that you’ll do better next time. But there’s always a next time. And I’m always the one sitting here, waiting, hoping you’ll finally prove me wrong.”

“Come on,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like, Vernon?” you demanded, stepping closer. “Because from where I’m standing, it feels like I’m the only one trying in this relationship. Is everything a joke to you?”

His head snapped up at your words, and for a moment, something flashed in his eyes—guilt, maybe, or frustration. But it wasn’t enough.

“I’m not joking,” he said quietly, though the defensiveness lingered in his tone. “You’re acting like I don’t care, but I do. I just... I have other things going on, too.”

“Right,” you said, your voice hollow. “And I’ll always come second to those things, won’t I?”

He didn’t answer, and the silence stretched between you, heavier than any words could have been.

You exhaled shakily, wiping at your eyes. “You know what? I’m done. I can’t keep doing this, Vernon. I can’t keep hoping you’ll show up for me, only to be disappointed every time.”

“Wait,” he said, stepping toward you, his voice cracking. “Don’t do this. We can talk about it.”

“We’ve talked about it,” you said, your tone firm despite the tears threatening to fall. “And nothing ever changes. I love you, Vernon, but I can’t keep loving someone who doesn’t love me enough to even try.”

[jo-harrington]

Corroded Coffin Fest Pop-Up: Birthday Boy Prompts: Gift, 21

Summary: Every year for his birthday, Eddie gets a special gift. When they stop coming, he feels an unexpected way about it.

Word Count: 1502

Rating: T

Warnings/Themes: No Upside Down AU, Friendship, Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Unseen Character Death

Notes: Thanks to @corrodedcoffinfest for another fantastic pop-up. I’m glad to be able to get back into these. I missed one and it was like I was missing a part of myself.

This entry is one that doesn’t make the most sense, logically, to a canon Eddie. But, like many other things, this is incredibly personal and something I’ve been wanting to write for a while. So I’m using this prompt as an excuse to do it for myself. It’s not my exact story, but it’s taking from both of my grandmothers. Nonna, who spoke English very well but couldn’t read or write it. And Babcia, who knew no English and I, of course, knew no polish. Still, she wrote novels in all of her cards to me. And my piece of shit father always refused to translate them. Eddie, you deserve all the love of a dearest grandparent, so I’m loaning you some of mine.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

He doesn’t know why he cares.

There are plenty of other things to think about today; it is his 21st birthday, after all.

But there are some things you just take for granted when you’re younger, and when they suddenly aren’t there anymore, you can’t help but realize the mistake you made. Hindsight is 20/20 and all that shit.

He used to only care about the crisp $20 bill that was tucked into the cards. A fresh note, straight from the bank. Used to buy toys, then candy, then books, then records. For birthdays and christmases and Easters.

Eventually he paid attention to the cards themselves. Pretty things with cartoons and pictures and, on birthdays, the numbers coinciding with the age he achieved. There were inscriptions inside, lengthy passages in fancy handwriting that he couldn’t read.

Not because they were illegible. He simply could not read them.

Dniu Urozdin. Wesołych Świąt.

Paragraphs upon paragraphs of words. And he wasn’t sure what they meant. Or the emotion that he was supposed to feel reading them.

“But who are they from?” He asked Wayne once when he was finally old enough for curiosity to spark.

“Your grandma,” was the simple response. But he knew no grandma, beyond old Nana Munson who passed right after his mom did. “I’ve told you that before.”

There was no return address for him to send a letter back to, no telephone number for him to call. Just a simple “Kocham cie, Busia” at the bottom of the novel his supposed-grandma wrote.

“Buss-ee-ah,” he pronounced slowly, and then looked to his uncle again. It felt wrong on his tongue. Not only in English but somehow also whatever that language was. He felt it in his gut. “Is that her name?”

Wayne scratched his chin, and looked at him sadly, then explained that he had only met Elizabeth’s mother once. Twice, at most? A small, elderly woman who spoke English very well—if accented—but apparently couldn’t write it much. He couldn’t remember her name or address or anything that would be useful in contacting her.

Of course, Al would have been some kind of help, but a long lost grandmother wasn’t exactly the first—or last—thought on any of their minds when the eldest Munson deigned to come to town.

”I’m sorry Ed,” Wayne whispered and mashed a hand on top of Eddie’s buzzed curls. “Maybe one day she’ll put her phone number in.”

Of course, by that time Eddie had developed some degree of self-loathing, and he chalked it up to a grandma who felt obligated enough to send a card, but didn’t care enough to really want to know her only grandson.

That’s when the cards started getting put away. In a drawer. Out of sight, out of mind til the next one came. Then the $20 bill would be slid into a wallet and the card would join the rest.

“Thanks Busia,” Eddie would whisper and offer a stiff and sarcastic salute as he slid the drawer closed. It never really felt right, but his hardened heart couldn’t care much more than that.

Jeff had seen them once, the stack of cards in his nightstand. He’d stayed the night and had been snooping.

“What’re these?” He asked, a laugh partially escaping from his mouth. A dozen greeting cards with illegible stories inside.

“They’re my lore,” Eddie explained, only slightly sarcastically. “I just haven’t leveled up enough to read them yet.”

“Guess you need to find a better DM,” Jeff joked back. He took one more look at the gently written closing, then slid it back into its home.

More time passed, more $20 bills spent.

But now, it was Eddie’s 21st birthday. Nothing in the mailbox. Nothing waiting for him on the counter amidst the bills and circulars. Nothing.

He didn’t think much of it at first. Distantly, during lunch, he wondered if the snowstorm that had blown through the previous week had delayed the mail at all. Because Busia’s cards always came through on time. Always.

So that had to be it.

And he tried to make excuses. Because it was just a card. Just a $20 bill. They weren't important; he didn't know why he cared.

Beer was drunk, weed was smoked, fun was had with his friends, who gifted him with new cassettes and a leather-bound notebook for him to write his stories.

But the next day, the only birthday gift waiting for him was a hangover.

Nothing the next day. Or the next.

“Nothing for me?” He asked Wayne anxiously a week after his special day.

And Wayne knew what it was he was asking for, even though he hadn’t said it aloud.

A hand was clamped down on his shoulder.

“She was old,” Wayne whispered. “Same age as Nana Munson, I’ll bet.”

The words rang in Eddie’s ears, an uncomfortable ringing, even as Wayne tried to blame the lack of a card of forgetfulness.

Because there had been a Christmas Card. And Eddie’s birthday had only been a month later. She wouldn’t have forgotten. Not after she’d sent one for almost two whole decades.

He sat at home late that night, in the dim light of his bedroom, trying to decipher something from those cards. Some kind of hint that Busia would excuse the lack of a birthday card. Maybe in a language he didn't understand, she would explain that she was having surgery or going on a trip, and that her birthday gift would be late this year.

Deep down, as he saw her beautiful handwriting get messier as the years went by, he knew why there was no card.

And he sat there every night, for days, amidst the only thing he had from his grandmother, mourning something that he never really had at all.

Jeff stopped by on the third day, backpack clutched in his hand, and he pulled the comforter off of his supposedly sleeping friend.

"Wake up! Come on, we've got character sheets to write! Gah, it smells like stale Cheetos and farts in here." Jeff laughed, then stopped, as he spotted the stack of cards beside Eddie's supine form. "Oh no."

"I'm feeling human feelings, Jeffy," Eddie groaned and curled up on his side. "Avert your eyes."

Jeff huffed a sigh and plopped down on the edge of the bed. "If anyone knows how many human feelings you have, Ed, it's me."

He tried to reach for one of the cards and Eddie had the audacity to hiss at him.

"What if I said I had a present for you?"

Of course, that piqued the older boy's interest.

Jeff heaved his backpack over his shoulder and rooted through it, searching for small object that he'd been keeping for a while.

"I've had it for a while," he explained. "I didn't want to...listen Ed I know how much you keep things close to the chest sometimes. But Timmy Kaminski was my lab partner last year, before we graduated. I recognized something in that one Christmas card. He calls his grandma 'Busia' too."

Eddie groaned and ran a hand over his face.

"I don't call her Busia," Eddie scoffed. "I don't call her anything. I don't even have a grand--"

But Jeff shoved a book in Eddie's face. A small yellow paperback thing, edges a little worn from being tossed around Jeff's backpack, but otherwise relatively new.

Polish to English Dictionary.

Eddie hesitantly took the book from Jeff and stared at it.

"I'm not gonna pry," Jeff said softly. "But obviously...obviously something upset you. Because of these cards. And last time...last time they upset you, you said that you hadn't leveled up enough to know what they said yet. So I decided I would take over as DM...and Level 21 is enough to start unlocking basic translation as a skill."

"But--"

"You know enough Klingon and Sindarin, you might as well learn what your god damn birthday cards say! I'll even help you, damn it!"

Jeff stared at Eddie expectantly.

And Eddie felt the pit that had formed in his stomach over the past few days begin to close a bit.

There was a pang in his chest as he sat up and stared at all the cards surrounding him. The little yellow book might as well have been made of gold, how much it suddenly meant to him.

"Thanks Jeff," he muttered, holding back tears.

"Of course, man," the younger boy nodded and patted a hand on his shoulder. "And if you ever...ever want to talk...you know I'm here. God knows I've talked your ear off plenty."

"Yeah you have," Eddie snarked, earning a scoff.

He was about to pick up a card, ready to begin the slow process of translating it.

However, an idea struck him, and he began flipping through the book.

Not an idea. Words. Simple words that he'd read over and over for years, let alone the last few days.

He reached the page, and he felt his heart grow.

Kocham cie. I love you.

*a handful of cards I had gotten over the years. I (proxied by my mother when I was too young to know) kept them all. The oldest card I have is from my first birthday in 1995. I hope she knows how loved they are.

[connorsnothereeither]

So uhm.. for a project I'm doing, what do the brink characters hand writings look like??? I may be fully hand transcribing and binding brink...

And I want to do the letters in their hand writing soooo

Oooh okay sorry it took a me a while to answer this I’ve been thinking about responses

1: HOLY SHIT that’s so cool I would love to see that project come together if you end up posting things anywhere 🥺 I’m working on a revised pdf version (and updating the ao3 version as I go) to print and bind myself, but hand transcribing is so sick omg /gen

2: I’m hoping these descriptors make sense because they do in my brain but describing handwriting is,,, kinda hard haha 😅 (going based on order of appearance of handwriting in the first book)

Jamie’s handwriting is neat and orderly but simple. There’s not a lot of flourishes to it, especially since often they’re transcribing things for Rae, so it’s very much “getting this information down quick but readabe”. I think they’re the kind of person who like,,, isn’t super consistent with their cursive? So there’s some print letters occasionally in the words but mostly cursive.

Rae’s handwriting is thin and scrawling cursive. He was taught elegant, flourishing handwriting, but over the years as writing has become about getting down as many notes and thoughts as possible, it’s become compressed and rushed and frantic. Most of the time it’s readable by others, but not always

Athena’s handwriting is sharp and scratchy and blocky. It’s a rough handwriting, almost. Probably more print than cursive.

I think Easton’s writing, is very solid and matter of fact, in a way. Like very clear, distinct print letters. They are making sure the words are getting across. It’s usually clean and clear but once they’re corrupted it starts to get shaky and rough.

Strawberri’s handwriting is almost like what Rae’s should look like. Curled and elegant swirling cursive. Flowery, even, if you’ll excuse the pun. I think unlike the others who are writing for notes and science and such, Momboo’s writing is much more relaxed and dignified, almost.

I think that’s all the characters who have letters or documents written in Brink?? But let me know if I’ve missed any or if you wanted me to go into other characters, or characters handwriting from the other books!!

And at the end of the day like,,, don’t take this as gospel or something you need to match, necessarily!! If you have a vision for what their handwriting is in your headcanon of the story, that’s just as much canon to you as my thoughts on the matter are to me! That’s the beauty of fan works and headcanons is that you can make it your own!! And especially with something as intricate as transcribing the fic there’s so much of your own feeling put into it, there’s not a wrong way to interpret any of the handwritings or anything like that!! 🫶🫶 /geb

[expelliarmus444]

"You Vex Me" : An Ominis OneShot

the first of my oneshot genre poll: first place - "something smutty".

CONTENT WARNNING: this content contains smut; characters are NOT minors, are eighteen or above and are at the end of their seventh year.

Kristen snuck out of her dorm room at the darkest of hours to go practice her potions in the hidden closet she’d found a few months prior. With finals and award season approaching, she was determined to out-do her number one class enemy, Ominis Gaunt, in the potions section. She was confident she could beat him in every other category, but potions was the one subject that twisted itself completely in her mind. After she’d found the spot, she’d set up a good potion table and practice in secret. If anyone was going to win the award of potion mastery at the end of the year, it was going to be her. 

She sprinted down the halls underneath a disillusionment charm, going as fast as she could without her mary jane shoes producing a noticeable sound. As she’d approached the door, she was immediately hit with a bad feeling. The handle was not in the exact angle she’d left it. She knew someone had touched it, possibly went inside. She looked around the empty hall before grabbing the doorknob and slowly pushing her way in. 

“You motherfucker,” she harshly released from her lips at the sight of Ominis Gaunt. “This spot is mine. Get out.” 

“Excuse me?” Ominis pulled his hands away from the potion table with an attitude to his voice that made her blood begin to boil like pasta water. “How dare you talk to me like that?” 

She shut the door behind her before laying it on him.

“How dare I? This is my spot and you fucking know it. The only reason you’re here is because you know it's mine. But guess what? Practice won’t make perfect anymore, too late. I’ve already perfected every potion inside and out. You’re going to have your own cocky, pompous ass handed to you when that award is given to me instead.”

She was lying, but she was hoping he couldn’t see through her facade. He was still much better at potions than she was. The one he’d been brewing in the room smelled much more correct than her version ever had. But giving up and shutting up was never on her agenda. Not when it came to Ominis Gaunt.

How wickedly cruel it was for him to be so handsome. The way his blonde hairs fell so perfectly from atop his head, requiring minimal effort. His eyes might’ve been incapable of sight, but they certainly were great at captivating it from others. Like two glass orbs of icy blue, swirling like waves. Waves that could swallow her alive. Even his complexion was insanely perfect, soft and glistening. His beauty marks were exactly as they’d been described, kisses of beauty placed on his skin by Aphrodite herself. 

How wickedly cruel of him to be so handsome, but so arrogant. Conceited. He was the picture perfect prince of the Slytherin house. An excellent example of how cunning Slytherins could be. For a Gryffindor, she certainly wasn’t feeling very brave as he smirked at her devilishly. He loved her anger, almost like he could get off to it. It fed his ego somehow, knowing he was the standard to beat. And of course, he wasn’t going down without a fight. 

“Why should I care about what’s yours?” He bit back at her. “Because so far, I don’t. And I never have.” 

“Do you think this is funny?” Kristen marched over to the table and threw his potion work off with her hands, watching everything shatter to the floor. “If you want a fight, I’ll give you a war. Stop playing games and get out!” 

He cackled. He laughed at her like a little boy tormenting another child on the playground. He shook his head with that stupid, cunning smirk of his. And as she’d watched him, she felt as though she were burning alive. She almost thought to drop the wands and fight with hands instead. 

“Oh, that’s rich.” Ominis’s laugh died down but the look of pleasure remained painted on his face like an original piece of Monet. “As if you’d tell me to get out and I’d just leave.”

She’d reached her boiling point then.

“You..” She stuttered over the words in anger. “You vex me!”

She’d stomped her foot on the ground as though she were a child throwing a temper tantrum. If he was going to make child’s play, she was going to fit the part. She was tired of being mature. 

“I do?” He’d cheekily responded to her outburst. “Tell me..”

He began to approach her closely, her back pressing against the edge of the potion table. And when he’d gotten close enough for her to hear his breath, hers began to speed up. The palpitating organ in her chest rumbled as loudly as a stampede, as she felt the air from his lips hit her ear. 

“Tell me how much.”

Something came over her that she’d never experienced before. She felt sick to her stomach, like a flock of forbidden forest butterflies had hatched in her abdomen and decided to live there. Her neck felt like it was being lit with a match after getting coated in the strongest liquor one could find. And the lower half of her body, the spot between her thighs? It had lightly begun to pulse against the fabric of her undergarments. 

She’d been fully trapped against the table at that point, cornered and taking in the scent of his cologne. Her silence made the room feel so much smaller. He’d pulled away from her ear and she was left to look at his painfully beautiful face. 

“You vex me too,” he muttered out. 

“Good,” she’d spat out the words with anxiety looming over her like a stormcloud. “I hope you loathe me.”

“I do. I loathe the fact that you’re almost as smart as me, maybe even smarter. I hate the fact that you came into this school and not only took my friends, but challenged my intelligence.”

She was surprised when the words came out of his mouth. Hearing them felt strange. It was almost as if he’d been admitting defeat. In any other moment, she would’ve loved to watch him squirm and surrender. But this? This had been different. 

They had entered an entirely different game with the words he decided to lay out next. 

“And most of all, I cannot stand the fact that I always think about you. I hate the fact that your voice replays in my head all day, and that the scent of your perfume when you walk past me in the hall makes me turn around. I despise the way I feel when Garreth and Sebastian flirt with you in front of me. I even detest the way you look at them, even though I am incapable of seeing it. Because I know you’ve never looked at me that way. So yes, I hate you. I hate you more than I’ve ever hated anyone in my entire life.”

Their lips crashed together like two sailing ships colliding amongst the waves of the sea’s strongest storm. It had felt like rain finally coating the desert after the longest period of drought. He had grabbed her waist with his large hands and pushed him against her body, as her own hands immediately gripped onto his locks of perfect hair. The room felt hot as their body heat built up from the contact. As he pressed further into her, she felt his hardness beneath his pants. 

She quivered as he pulled away from her lips and began kissing her neck, devouring her skin with the softness of his lips. 

“I hate you.” He repeated the words, muffled against her skin as she held back a whimper from the sensation. She could hardly catch her breath as she gripped onto him and pulled his frame closer. “I hate you because you aren’t mine.” 

As he kissed around both sides of her neck, trailing his mouth to her ear and then against her jawline, she pulled back slightly when he’d attempted to fall back onto her lips. 

“Make me yours,” she’d whispered out to him. “I want to be yours.”

“Fuck.”

He pulled his class robe off and onto the floor before he got to work on her clothes. First, he’d pulled her robes off of her shoulders. Then he’d undone the bottoms of her vest and ribbed open her shirt that had been buttoned up underneath it. She had no undergarments on, and her breasts had become bare in front of him. Devoid of sight, he immediately brought his warm hands to cup them as their lips met yet again. Both of them whimpered out in satisfaction. She’d loved the way his hands felt as he massaged them, and he loved the way they felt in his hand. It’d only made him even harder, throbbing in his pants and dancing on the edge of insanity. 

She’d lost her breath when he’d kissed his way down to her breast, immediately going to lightly suck on her right nipple. She moaned out as his tongue swirled against her skin. She felt an immense amount of wetness forming beneath her panties. Soon she’d found herself completely against the table and spreading her legs open for him, hoping he’d take the opportunity to lower one hand and play with her. And just as she’d hoped, upon him moving from the right breast to the left, he’d stuck his hand up her skin and begun to lightly rub against her clit. When he wasn’t amused with the amount of fabric in his way, he’d slipped his fingers underneath her panties and played. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” he grumbled out hungrily as he used his finger to swirl circles against her clit. She leaned all the way back and cried in pleasure as he began to increase his speed a bit. He let out the cocky, little laugh she’d been all too familiar with. But it had been driving her crazy in a different way now. 

“Yes..” She mumbled out as she gripped onto the table. “Fuck, yes!”

“You like that?” He’d teased her mercilessly. It had been obvious she was enjoying the sensation of him playing with her so intensely, but he wanted to hear her say it. 

“Y-Yes…” She was barely able to push out the words. He’d leaned in to kiss her again and she’d gone back into his hair, her hips grinding and her body shaking with his movements. 

He slowed his speed against her clit before stopping entirely, edging her as he began to gently rub his finger up and down the area. He’d toyed with her entrance a bit, watching her squirm, before allowing his finger to slowly slide into her. He rubbed the spongiest part within her and began to use his finger in a flicking motion. 

“Oh my god,” she moaned out in response to the pleasure she’d been experiencing. He sped his motions up just a bit more and she felt her face lose composer. He was so hard that it had almost become uncomfortable for him. But he wasn’t going to stop until she had been satisfied in other ways first. 

He kissed her lips hungrily, his tongue swiping around in her mouth as he fingered her with one hand and lightly pressed on her throat with the other. 

“Say my name,” he groaned against her ear. 

She erupted in the most beautiful cry he’d ever heard.

“Ominis!” She called out shaking, moving her hips up and down with his motions. 

The pressure building inside of her felt unlike anything she’d felt before. The pleasure had become so intense for her that she could barely hold back her moaning. She’d gripped onto the edges of the table so hard that her hands were starting to hurt. And with one final stroke in, she bursted on his hand. An ejaculation she’d never experienced before lightly shot up in the air and onto his clothes. Her heart was pounding and she barely had breath as he let out a laugh of pleasure and amusement. 

“Wow, you’re so hot,” he spoke. “I’ve never made a girl squirt before. But I guess you’re just that special, huh?” 

As she laid back onto the table in defeat, he unbuttoned his shirt and threw it to the floor. His muscle definition was glistening a bit from the splash. She gazed at his muscular shoulders and biceps, whilst admiring his defined pectorals. 

She didn’t even have time to think before he’d leaned in and kissed her again. He pressed against her body so closely that she could feel his heart beat. She used her hands to explore his muscles, enjoying the sensation of the raised sections before she brought her fingers down to the waistband of his pants. As he suckled on her tongue, he groaned at her touch. She unbuttoned his pants and moved her hands inside of his undergarments. 

He felt so hard in her hands that she couldn’t even think straight. All she could think about was how badly she wanted him to bury himself inside of her until he exploded. She took her hand and gently wrapped around him, stroking him. His lips ghosted against hers as he moaned out and took in sharp breaths with every stroke. She felt him grind his hips in the rhythm she moved her hands with. The sensation drove her crazy. 

“I want to feel you,” he whispered against her lips. “I want to feel how tight and wet you are against my cock. I wanna fuck you, Until you’re shaking and tearing up in pleasure.”

The words alone were almost enough to make her moan out. She felt the muscles of her insides contract and throb in excitement, practically beginning for him to fill her up and stretch her out. 

“Please…” She whispered. 

He pulled back with a half-lipped smirk.

“I will, but I’m not done yet.”

He moved his hands to her skirt and pulled it down her legs, pulling her panties with it. He opened her legs wide and leaned down, pressing his lips against her inner thighs. With every little kiss he left, he got closer and closer to the midst of her. 

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” 

“You don’t know how badly I’ve been wanting to do this.”

He placed his mouth against her midsection and began to glide his tongue against her clit, tasting her wet juices and humming against her. He used his hand to rub her thighs and touch her as his tongue swirled her into pleasure yet again. He lapped up her juices, ran his tongue up and down, and softly stuck it inside of her. After licking her insides for a few seconds, he trailed back to her clit and gave it a kiss. 

“I just had to taste you…”

He slid a finger inside of her again and swirled his tongue in ways that made her legs shake and her heart race. She gently grinded against his face, heightening the sensation further. 

“Fuck,” she cried out, playing with her breasts in her hands. “I want you to fuck me.”

He groaned and laughed lightly against her but refused to stop, attempting to get her off one more time. His fingers sped up again and she shook with intensity as she came close to climax. 

“You’re gonna make me cum!” She yelped out and bit down on her lip before shaking out an intense orgasm against his mouth. She leaned her head back on the table and shut her eyes, attempting to breathe. She could hear him pulling down his pants, and she grew excited all over again. 

She lifted her eyes and met her gaze with his hardened dick, upcurving slightly in appearance. It looked bigger than she’d imagined it. She was so hungry for it, she began to slide herself towards the edge of the table, waiting for him to mount. When he had, he used the tip to rub around against her clit and her folds. 

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked her to be certain, although he did not pause the gentle teasing. 

“Yes,” she said with confidence. 

“Beg.”

The desire inside of her erupted out like a volcano, spewing all over. 

“Please, Ominis.” She made sure the pleading was soft and sexy enough to coax him into filling her. “Please fuck me. I want you, Ominis. I need you.”

With her words, he slowly split her lips into different directions and pushed himself into her. She lost all air as she felt him sink in. The pressure and pleasure of simply his initial entrance made her head spin. She spread her legs as far out as she could and grabbed his hips, pulling him closer into her. She wanted him buried as deeply into her as possible.

“Fuck,” he groaned out as he slowly began to thrust inside of her. “You’re so tight.”

He grabbed her breasts as his slow strokes massaged her insides with ecstasy-like pleasure. The motion was soft, slow, and intense at first. But as he felt her with every stroke, he grew more needy of her. He sped up his thrusting and heightened the strength a bit. Soon, a steady rhythm could be heard amongst the sounds of their skin touching and her juices coating him. 

They were both moaning out, kissing each other's lips and gripping at each other's hair. He kissed her neck and moaned into it as he increased his speed yet again, feeling himself begin to climb up towards his peak. 

“Fuck,” he called out again. “You feel so good. You feel so fucking good.”

She took in rapid, shallow breaths.

“I want to make you cum.” She dug her nails into his back and wrapped her legs around him. “I’m yours, I’m all yours.”

He took her by the wrist with his hands and pressed them down onto the table, fucking her hard and fast. With every thrust, he felt himself unraveling. 

“I’m gonna cum,” he warned her. He wasn’t sure where specifically she’d wanted him to finish. He’d waited for her to give him an answer, just barely holding on. 

“Don’t pull out until you’re finished.”

He obliged, feeling himself completely come undone. She shook as she felt the pulsation of him emptying inside of her. Her chest rose and fell as she caught her breath, finally. He released her wrists and heavily breathed with his hands holding him up onto the table. 

“Do you still hate?” She teased him in his most vulnerable position. And he loved every bit of it. 

“Yes, I do. Because I’ll never be the same after that.”

They kissed and talked for the rest of the night until they fell asleep on the perfectly good couch that sat just a short distance from the table. 

The next morning, they had rushed out to class as discreetly as possible. Kristen threw her class robe on with haste and ran, not wanting to be late. She was completely winded by the time she made it into potions. 

“Where have you been? You were nearly late!” Poppy gave her a teasing little smile, glancing up at her once but eventually moving to do a double take. As Sebastian and Natsai came over, they had also looked painted in confusion. 

“What is everyone looking at?”

“Are you..” Sebastian began to question.

“Is that…” Poppy followed suit. 

“Why are you in a Slytherin house robe?” Natsai cut to the chase, beating her other friends to the punch. 

Foolishly, Kristen had run out with Ominis’s robe on. She hadn’t bothered to look and be sure. She was so nervous about being late that she hadn’t realized how loosely it had fit her. Before she could concoct a response, Ominis came up from behind her and leaned against the table with his school uniform on, absent of a robe. 

“Can you put us down as partners for the next project?” He asked. She didn’t even have to look at him to know that a smirk had been glossing his lips. 

The trio in front of her had dropped jaws and shocked eyes. 

“Deal.”

After all, there is a very thin line between love and hate.

okay so the oneshot genre poll is up. idk why im surprised "something smutty" won since y'all are FREAKS (but its ok i love u sm no judgements here hehe). so now...we shall ask who you want the star of the show to be.

i'll be going in order of most votes on the poll. so first will be the smutty one (38.9%), then cutesy romance (27.8%), a comedic take (18.5%), and a tragedy (14.8%).

you guys really saved the best for last because i already wrote the tragic one and i feel like i need therapy after writing and editing that one (so sad omg).

if you have any oneshot suggestions, comment below or hit my messages!!! i love to write everything except my assignments that are due (lol) so don't be shy!

xoxo au revoir love u

[the-woman-upstairs]

It’s just…so painful to watch Armand readily submit in order to obtain the love he so desperately craves. And while it’s most assuredly a manipulative tactic, it’s still one borne out of fear and desperation. He cannot lose this person he’s come to love and so will become whatever they want, do whatever they want just so they’ll stay with him. But it won’t be enough. No matter how much he acquiesces or seeks to control (himself, others, the environment), he won’t be able to make Louis stay with him in the perfect life, perfect self he built in the hopes of finally being loved. It will all crumble with Armand left alone in the rubble of what he created, the author of his own abandonment.

[starscreamingg]

Haha big robots amiright

(Click for better quality! :D)

[heartbreakfeelsogood]

[onika-t-maraj]

…

[opqrstuv04]

Going to see twenty one pilots tomorrow with my roommate and my dad and sister, and DNP in November :)) middle school is back in a big way baby!

[dadbots]

To do what I want and to do what makes me happy.