#because to me it's mostly like yeah. I recognize this because it's the story I had in my head and I wrote it!

[followsfrankiep]

Don't Worry About Her (Eddie Brock x Reader)

Summary: They always say, when a guy tells you not to worry about his girl best friend, you probably should. Izzy's wild and free-spirited nature has always contrasted with her best friend Eddie's quest for stability. Now that Eddie is engaged, he never expected Izzy to complicate things for both of them.

TW: Mentions of Sex, Physical and Mental Abuse, Anxiety, Trauma, Explicit Words, Cheating, Minors DNI.

Word count: 6.7k

A/N: HERE YA GO. Don't mind the incorrect spelling or grammar okay. Sorry to disappoint but no smutty part here bc our fave duo is on their version of "breaking up" or whatever u guys call it. Also, characters would often use "this" or "that" because they can't even label their own fucked up relationship. LOL. Just mind the warnings though. Very emotionally heavy and flashback heavy part of the story. I don't have a mood board for this chapter but this was heavily inspired by this song:

No pressure tag 💕 @rei-is-still-here @potter-solomons @feveredvisions @tickettride @lovebydaylite @dreamygirli3 @rach5ive (let me know if u guys want to be added as well 🥰)

Previous Part

Part 7 - Parental Figures

"We are live in 3, 2, 1!"

In front of the camera, what everyone sees is the Eddie Brock who is the charming fiancé, the fearless journalist, or the guy who always seems to have it all together. He is all smiles for the camera and for the people who recognize him walking down the streets of San Francisco.

What they do not know is he is internally screaming inside.

Four months before the wedding. A month after he and Izzy last talked and saw each other. He was restless. Eddie sat at his desk, fingers hovering over the keyboard, yet his thoughts were miles away from the article he was supposed to write. The cursor blinked mockingly at him, like a reminder of all the deadlines he was missing, all the expectations he was failing to meet. After some time of inactivity, unable to type at least a word, the picture of him and Anne as his screensaver popped up, his laptop in idle. He let out a frustrated growl, running a hand through his disheveled hair before slamming his laptop shut.

He tried to act all fine around her, giving the fiancé she once had, but it was the small things that caught her attention. Eddie buried himself in work even at home, never taking his eyes off his laptop, though he never seems to accomplish his deadlines on time.

When it came to the wedding preparations, he was a yes-man, well, more like a nod man. He was not at all enthusiastic about it. It became Anne's wedding rather than theirs. When she asked for Izzy's help with Eddie, he did become more present. He was at home early; he was able to attend all the necessary appointments they had, and most importantly, sex was back on the table. However, the man she loved was on autopilot. He was navigating life with her; their love boat was sailing, but Eddie, himself, was not there.

His heart was not there, it was with Izzy, and she was more absent in his life than she ever was before, even though he knew she was just one car drive or bike ride away.

His newfound best friend was an unexpected one: a bottle of whiskey and drinking it over the kitchen counter.

It wasn’t his style—he wasn’t the type to drown his sorrows in alcohol—that tonight, it felt like the only option. He drank on several occasions, mostly for the happy ones like boys' night out or when Izzy forced him to finish a bottle of beer during their movie nights. He did not like drinking during his down mood since it reminded him so much of his father, though it seems like as the days go by, the more he understands the numbing effects it has for the emotional fucking boulder he's been carrying inside.

"Eddie?" Anne called.

"Yeah?" He answered flatly.

He did not even spare a glance and it prompted her to step closer, her eyes searching his face for any sign of the man she used to know.

“Are you okay? This is the third night you've been drinking. Is there something wrong?”

Hell yeah something's wrong. Everything. He thought.

Instead, let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head as he downed the rest of his drink. “Just tired,” he muttered, the lie rolling off his tongue with practiced ease.

“Eddie, I—” she began, but he cut her off.

“Look, Anne,” he hissed. “Can we not fucking do this right now? I don't want to talk!”

She flinched, biting her lip as she nodded, retreating from the room. Eddie closed his eyes, the guilt washing over him in waves. He didn’t want to hurt her. He didn’t want to push her away. But every time he tried to stay present, to focus on her, all he could think about was Izzy. He took out his phone, typing another message to send her, knowing like the ones he had sent days before would end up ignored like this one as well.

Then he heard a sobbing noise coming from their bedroom...

Eddie sighed heavily, closing his eyes as the guilt crashed over him in waves. He hadn’t meant to hurt her and for a moment, he stared at the empty glass in his hand. He knew his emotions got the best of him again, and how is he going to explain his unreasonable outburst tonight? Setting the glass down, he followed her into the bedroom, as he saw Anne was sitting on the edge of the bed, wiping away her tears. He stood in front of her, his hand brushing lightly against her cheek as he tilted her face up to meet his gaze. Eddie leaned in, his lips pressing against hers in a kiss that was more apologetic than affectionate.

He was trying to convince himself as much as her that he wanted this and Anne she leaned into it, her hands reaching up to rest lightly on his arms. As if suddenly, everything between them was okay and he was still hers. Her fingers were slowly undoing his buttons, Eddie mentally sighed in defeat knowing where this would lead.

That night, all he could ever think about was Izzy. He had sex with his fiancé as passionate as apologies can be that night with his eyes closed. He had sunk to a new low, using the woman who loved him to chase the ghost of the one he couldn’t have. But he can't bring himself to do so without it. His best friend's pomegranate-tasting lips, the way her body moved in perfect rhythm with his, the way she moaned his name—he longed for all of it. Afterwards, as Anne lay beside him, the bliss came crashing down on him once again.

Anne is the woman he was going to marry. The woman he'll spend the rest of his life with. But there's this constant uneasy feeling whenever he touches her, it feels like he was cheating on Izzy instead.

Eddie stared at the ceiling, lost in his own thoughts once again. The last words Izzy spoke to him that night before she left replayed on his mind.

"Don’t come to the mansion, Eddie. I know you’ll try, and my parents won’t turn you away since they love you like their own. But I will. If I see you near that house, I swear to God, I’ll leave San Francisco again just to get away from you.”

Izzy had begged him, in her own way, to let her go. To stop clinging to what they had shared and to stop chasing a future that could never be theirs. But Eddie couldn’t. He loved her in a way that so consuming that left him hollow when she wasn’t there. And yet, he had chosen stability over chaos, predictability over passion—a choice he regretted more deeply with every passing day.

Since then, Eddie had been trying to reach her in every way he could—calls, texts, messages that varied from heartfelt to angry to pleading. But Izzy had gone silent, leaving him drowning in their goodbye.

Somewhere on the other side of San Francisco, Izzy was staring at the package that arrived a week ago. She did not want to open it since she already knew what it was. It was the dress and heels she bought using Eddie's credit card when they were still lovey dovey. It was a bittersweet reminder of the man, she was working so hard to avoid. She was not planning on going out that night yet she threw on the dres, wore the heels, and took a good look on the mirror inside her walk in closet. It looks so stunning. She imagined wearing this out with him, and felt a sting of pain in her chest again.

"Who says I can't wear this at home, huh?" she muttered to herself.

Izzy retreated back to her bed, still wearing the two grand worth of dress and heels, opened another tub of this artisanal popcorn her dad bought for her, and flipped through the TV for another all nighter of reality shows. She thought that at least the drama showing in her screen was paid for. The drama in her personal life was not.

"I'd like to get paid for being that dramatic." she grumbled, nose flaring, and popped another fistful of popcorn inside her mouth.

That was Izzy on a tamed night.

She carried her own burdens. Letting him go had been the hardest thing she had ever done, and yet she had done it, knowing it was the only way to save her bestfriend's engagement.

There were times she'd come home late and drunk from a party, wobbling her way up to her room. One time, her dad woke up cocking a gun at her when she accidentally broke a vase by stumbling upon it, thinking there was an intruder inside their house at 3AM. Turns out, it was their daughter who they barely recognized because of the smudged make up and messy hair. It got them worried. Usually, Eddie would bring her home in one piece, saving them both the head ache of dealing with their havoc of a daughter.

But what got them more concerned was when Izzy wouldn't come out of her room, obviously hurting. Her mom would wonder why it was almost past lunch time and she still has not come out of her room yet, seeing her deep asleep in her bed when she took a peak. Tubs of unfinished popcorn on the floor, crumpled can of sodas, and a salt covered blanket. All they can do was wait for her to open up.

That night. Bay Area.

She felt the numbness in her face creeping in as her jaw stayed tightly clenched. Izzy stood barely rigid, her fingers trembling despite her best efforts to steady them, her lips quivering with each confession.

She recounted everything. The conversation with Anne at the café—the guilt that had been breathing down her neck ever since, and the pain of realizing the role she had fully played in Anne’s heartbreak. The guilt she carried wasn’t just for Anne; it was for herself. For the ways she willingly stayed in Eddie’s life for so long and for the moments she knew she could have stepped aside but didn’t. She had taken something that wasn’t hers.

Her hands balled into fists, fighting the tremor that threatened to undo her entirely. Anne didn’t deserve the heartache she’d been dealt and Izzy knew that no words or apologies could make it better being the catalyst for it alll. When her words finally stopped, her gaze flicked towards Eddie, who was looking at her with an evident heart break and desperation. He knew where this was going and what has going through her mind, slowly nodding in defeat. His hand raked through his hair, leaving it tousled and even more disheveled as the wind blew through it, his gaze drawn toward the rippling water.

“Izzy, don’t do this,” he said, his voice low, almost pleading. “Whatever it is that we have, it’s not... it’s not just sex. You’re my best friend. You’re the only one who really gets me.”

“And that’s the problem, Eddie!” she burst out. “I shouldn’t be the one who gets you. She should. She’s supposed to be your fiancé, not me. This—” she gestured between them, her hands trembling—“this has to stop.”

She hated the heartbreak engraved into his features and the way she was standing here tearing his world apart even as her own crumbled beneath her. But she couldn’t stop knowing it was the right thing to do.

Izzy held her ground but Eddie knew her well enough to recognize the bravado she wore like an armor, but he also knew the trembling in her hands. And even from the pain of receiving her words, he couldn’t stop himself from stepping closer.

“You think ripping us apart fixes anything? None of us come out of this okay, Izzy. You don’t get to decide what’s best for everyone just because you feel guilty.”

“Don’t you dare,” she whispered sharply. “Don’t you fucking dare say like guilt is all I feel. You think this is easy for me? Standing here, telling you it’s over, while everything in me is screaming to just... keep going?!”

Eddie froze. He knew it. Deep inside her, beyond her words, he knew Izzy did not want to end things between them.

“Why can’t you just let it be what it is?” he pleaded.

“Because what it is,” her voice trembling, “is already hurting her, Eddie. She doesn’t even got a clue how bad this shit is. Do you know what she said to me today? Huh? She said she loves you so much she doesn’t know how to reach you anymore. She’s begging me to help her understand you, Eddie, while I—” Her breath hitched as she broke off, shaking her head. “While I’m the bitch causing it.”

He dragged a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated groan. “You think she gets me like you do? You think she’s the one who keeps me together when everything’s falling apart? No, Izzy. It’s you. You’re the one I call. You’re the one who keeps me breathing when I can’t deal with the rest of it. It’s always been you.”

It was the gut wrenching fact that it was Izzy trying to save his relationship with Anne from falling apart that made her stomach churn. And as much as he wanted to fight, as much as he wanted to hold onto her, he knew she wasn’t wrong.

But that didn’t mean he could let her go. Not without a fight. Not without trying to make her see how much she mattered.

And somehow, Izzy knew how much Eddie clung to her, but she also knew the reality of their situation. They had to stop somewhere at sometime.

“It shouldn’t be me, Eddie. It should never have been me. She’s the one who signed up to love you. She’s the one planning a future with you.”

"You don’t get to say that, Izzy. You don’t get to decide that whatever this is doesn’t matter.”

“What I know is that it can’t go on anymore!” she snapped, tears pricking at her eyes. “Not when it’s built on lies and cheating. Damn it, Brock, don’t you see what we’ve done?”

His chest sighed as he stepped closer. “I see that I want you, Izzy. You have no idea how long I've waited. I wanted you since that night you kissed me for nothing."

Her breath hitched, the raw honesty in his words was breaking her stand but she couldn’t afford to soften up to him again. She was determined to make things right.

“You can’t just throw that in my face. You’ve already chosen her.”

“I didn’t choose her!” he growled, his hands flailing in the air like a frustrated lunatic. “I fucking settled, Izzy. All I ever wanted was you but you were never here.”

A scoff escaped her lips as she wiped her eyes using the back of her hands while shaking her head. It was painful to hear those words. Why now? Why not before when it was just the two of them?

“Eddie, you proposed to her. You promised her forever. And now you’re standing here, begging me to let you keep both of us like that’s something sustainable.”

“I’m not trying to keep both of you,” he muttered. “I’m trying to keep you."

Izzy tried so hard to keep herself to stand tall, her hands balled tightly at her sides, taking a deep breath, she said. “It's not me you should keep, Eddie.”

His voice dropped to a quiet broken whisper. “And what am I supposed to do?” he asked. “Just... let you go?”

Her eyes glinted for the briefest moment, forcing herself to smile and nod slowly in confirmation.

There was a moment of silence that filled the space between them. Eddie’s chest rose and fell with deep breaths as he stared at her. He looked heart broken, hurt, and somehow in frustrated.

“You’re bailing out on me again,” he muttered. “You always do this, Izzy. Whenever things start to feel right, you find a way to blow it up.”

She narrowed her eyes at him with her arms crossing defensively over her chest as she stepped closer. “Excuse me?” she shot back. “Are you seriously accusing me of bailing? Of all people?”

Eddie stepped even closer. “Yeah, I am. You did it before when you told me to find someone else who could give me the stability you didn’t think you could. And now, you’re doing it again.”

Izzy let out a harsh laugh, her head shaking as she jabbed a finger into his chest, her voice trembling with anger. “Fuck you, Brock.” she spat. “Let’s get one thing straight—I didn’t bail. I told you to find someone who deserved you because I wasn’t about to play house with you.”

“And there it is... You keep throwing me fucking scraps—just enough to keep me close—and then you yank it all away when it gets too fucking real for you.”

Her hands dropping to her sides as she took a deep breath to calm herself. “You want to know why I’m doing this, Eddie? Because Anne asked for my help. Because you couldn't hold it together!"

“Izzy,” he said, his voice low, almost pleading. “Don’t—”

“No,” she cut him off. “You don’t get to tell me not to do this. She loves you, Eddie. She’s trying so so so hard to hold on to you, and you’re not giving her anything to hold on to. And I can’t—I won’t—be the reason she loses you.”

In that moment, as much as he wanted to fight back, to make her see that she was wrong, deep down, he knew she wasn’t. Izzy had chosen for him since she knew his answer.

A week later, the wedding preparations were in full swing since the date was closing in. Over the chinese take out containers, Anne handed Eddie this huge wedding binder she carefully crafted from her childhood imaginations to Pinterest wedding ideas. He was skimming through the book when Anne asked something that struck a nerve.

“I know you’ve already asked Izzy’s parents to stand in,” she began, his hands stilling as he registered the direction this was heading. “But... wouldn’t it be better if your dad came instead?”

Eddie hesitated, his grip tightening on the edge of the binder as he met her gaze. She didn’t know the full story—the depth of the rift between him and Carl, the years of anger and silence that he endured.

“The Knights have always been there for me. They treated me like their own when I didn’t have anyone else. It's only right to include them.”

“I understand that,” she said gently. “And I’m not saying they don’t mean a lot to you. I just wonder if... I don’t know, if tying them so closely to this part of your life could be complicated.”

Eddie ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly as he leaned back in his chair. “Complicated how?” he asked.

“It’s just... they’re Izzy’s parents,” she said finally. “And I know you’ve been close to her for as long as I’ve known you, but... doesn’t it feel a little... off?”

“They’re more than just her parents to me,” he said finally, his voice low but firm. “They were my family when my own father wasn’t there. That man can't even drag himself to my own graduation.”

The heavy emotions were starting to take over him again as he forced himself to take a deep breath before he continued. “It’s not something I need to reconsider,” he said, his voice softer now. “The Knights are my family. And that’s final.”

Anne nodded slowly, her gaze softening as she took in the tension etched into his features. “Okay,” she said quietly. “I understand..”

An awful amount of awkward silence filled their apartment and Eddie did not care. Carl Brock was a sensitive topic to him. He had to learn how to live without a loving parent because of that man, and he refuses to bring him in his wedding.

The next day, after a long day of work, Eddie was driving back to their apartment. The conversation he had with Anne regarding his father kept replaying on his mind, and he remembered that specific memory during their High School graduation.

He was standing alone in the auditorium, clutching his cap nervously, waiting for his name to be called. It was their high school graduation. His eyes scanned across the venue, each student had their own parents and guardians to come up with them on stage, yet his own father was nowhere to be found. He was still holding unto the tiny bit of hope that Carl would somehow show up there and be with him.

Izzy knew his father did not show up again. She’d been furious—not just at Carl’s absence, but at the fact that he hadn’t even bothered to make an excuse. He hadn’t called, hadn’t sent a message, hadn’t done anything to acknowledge his son’s achievement. Her eyes constantly peaked to her best friend's seat, seeing how he was still hoping that his father would miraculously swoop in.

"Edward Charles Allan Brock." his name was called up stage.

He closed his eyes briefly, taking deep breath to brace himself from the humiliation of having to receive his medals and diploma alone. No one there to accompany him, no one to share his achievement with. He moved forward, each step feeling heavier than the last. While walking slowly up the stage, he felt an arm loop around his, his eyes immediately flicked to see who was it.

It was Izzy's mom.

"I hope you don't mind, sweetheart." she said, giving him a soft smile similar to Izzy's.

He felt a heavy yet warm tap on his back and saw Izzy's father standing on his other side. "We're proud of you, son."

Eddie felt like his heart was going to burst. He did not expect Izzy's parents to step in as his. He hadn’t realized how much he needed this—not just the presence of someone, but them. Izzy's parents. The two people who had always been there for him, treating him like he was one of their own, even when his own father couldn’t be bothered.

When they walked him across that stage, for the first time, Eddie didn’t feel alone. He didn’t feel like the kid abandoned by his dad. He felt loved, supported—like he mattered. From her seat, Izzy was a force of nature. Holding the camcorder with shaky, excited hands, she cheered so loudly it echoed across the auditorium.

“That’s my best friend! Go get it, Brock!” she yelled, her voice full of pride, her energy infectious.

Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle softly, a small smile tugging at his lips despite the lump in his throat. Typical Izzy—always there to lift him up, even when he didn’t ask for it.

As the ceremony ended and the three of them walked off stage, Eddie found himself glancing back at Izzy’s parents. He didn’t have the words to thank them—not properly, anyway. All he could do was nod, swallowing the emotions threatening to spill over. But they didn’t need words. The way Mrs. Knight squeezed his arm and the proud gleam in Mr. Knight’s eyes said everything. They celebrated with him afterwards, even got him a graduation gift as well.

When the Knights dropped Eddie off at Carl’s house later that evening, Izzy’s anger boiled over. She didn’t wait for Eddie to say goodbye or for her parents to drive away. She stormed out of the car, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement as she marched toward the front door.

“Izzy, wait—” Eddie called after her, but she didn’t stop. Her dad started to follow, his protective instincts kicking in, but her mom grabbed his arm, shaking her head. “Let her handle it,” she said softly.

Inside, Izzy didn’t waste a second. She found Carl lounging on the couch, a beer in hand, the TV blaring some sports game. He barely glanced up when she entered.

“Are you kidding me?” she snapped. “You didn’t even show up. Eddie was waiting for you. Do you even care about your son?”

“Who the hell are you to barge in here and talk to me like that? Is he just following you around like a dog now? Who do you think you are, coming in here and running your mouth?” Carl hissed, face darkened, his grip tightening on the beer bottle.

For a young woman, freshly graduated from high school, Izzy’s fury ignited like a match. She was not taking this sitting down. Not with Eddie who deserved so much more than this. Her heart was broken just by seeing his face earlier.

“Dog? You call your own son a dog?" she scoffed. “Then you are a pile of dog shit, Carl. You don’t deserve to call yourself his father.” she spat, her voice trembling with rage.

There was not any ounce of respect left with her words. Carl then stood, towering over her, Eddie burst through the door, his heart pounding. “Dad, stop—” he started, but his father's hand was already raised, his anger boiling over.

The slap came fast, but Eddie moved faster. He stepped in front of Izzy, taking the blow himself. Izzy's eyes widened at the scene. The sting burned across his cheek, but he didn’t flinch. He stood his ground, his eyes locked on his father’s.

“Don’t you ever touch her,” Eddie said, his chest heaving. “You want to hit someone? Hit me. But don’t you dare lay a hand on her.”

Carl stared at him for a moment before scoffing and turning away. “Get the hell out of my house,” he muttered, collapsing back onto the couch.

But Izzy wasn’t done. She grabbed Eddie’s arm, pulling him toward the door. As they reached the doorway, she paused, her grip on Eddie’s arm tightening. She turned back to Carl, her gaze sharp, and without a word, she reached for a vase sitting on a nearby table—a harmless, decorative piece—and hurled it to the ground. The shattering sound caused a raucous as her final act of defiance that left Carl staring at her in stunned silence.

She didn’t say anything else. The look she gave Carl said it all: You’re a worthless piece of shit.

Outside, half way in the front lawn, Izzy spun around to face Eddie. Her hands reached for his face, her fingers brushing gently over the red mark blooming on his cheek. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, her lips trembling as she pouted. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, her voice cracking. “It was meant for me. I could’ve taken it.”

He chuckled softly despite the sting on his face. “I’m the one who got slapped, and you’re the one crying?” he teased.

Izzy’s lip quivered as more tears spilled over, and she pouted like a stubborn child. “Your dad is a horrible man,” she said, her voice breaking as she tried to hold herself together. But she couldn’t, especially when it came to Eddie.

Eddie’s heart ached at the sight of her like this. Izzy was the strongest person he knew, someone who rarely cried, who took on the world as lightly as she can, laughing her way out of the most ridiculous situations. But here she was, her tears falling freely—not for herself, but for him. And that, more than anything else, was what broke him.

Her parents stepped out of their car, the urgency in their steps shifting to alarm the moment they saw Eddie’s face. Her mom gasped, her hands flying to her mouth as she took in the sharp red mark on his cheek. Her dad’s expression hardened, restraining his anger as he approached them. Their questions poured as Izzy answered through stifled sniffles. It was a no-brainer for them—they couldn’t let Eddie go back to a house like that. Without hesitation, they told him they would cover his dorm expenses and any other needs he’d have in college, just to ensure he wouldn’t have to endure his father’s cruelty again.

Eddie froze, caught completely off guard by their offer. It was too much, too kind—something he didn’t think he could possibly accept. Shaking his head, he started to protest. But before he could get much further, Izzy broke down. She yelled at him.

“Just take it!” she yelled. “Don't be a dumbass and choose yourself for once!”

Eddie looked at her, really looked at her—at the way her face was streaked with tears, her lip trembling as she pleaded with him. She wasn’t just crying for him; she was crying because of him, because she couldn’t stand to see him hurt anymore. No one advocated for Eddie the way Izzy did at that moment.

“Alright. Stop crying.” he said quietly. “I’ll take it.”

As he pulled up to the apartment, Eddie shook his head, exhaling deeply with a faint smile tugging at his lips. No matter how much time passed, he could never think of that day without feeling indebt to Izzy’s parents since they had been more than just stand-ins—they’d become his own family in ways Carl never could. And Izzy, as stubborn as she is, had always been his number one. His chest ached, considering how distant they both are now.

Sliding the key into the lock, Eddie stepped inside the apartment, tossing his keys onto the counter, and running a hand through his hair as he closed the door behind him. The place smelled faintly of takeout, and he braced himself for another round of wedding discussions with Anne, his mind already beginning to shut down from the exhaustion of the day.

But then he saw him.

Sitting on the couch, legs casually spread and an empty beer bottle balanced on one knee, was Carl Brock.

Eddie suddenly can't move his legs.

His father looked older now but he was still carrying the condescending smirk he hated. For a moment, Eddie thought he was hallucinating, the ghost of his childhood trauma sitting in his living room, but then their eyes met.

“Well, if it isn’t the golden boy,” Carl drawled, gesturing lazily with his bottle. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

Literally, he was too stunned to speak.

But before he could say anything, Anne appeared in the doorway, smiling brightly. “Honey,” she started, “I invited your dad.”

Eddie’s jaw clenched, his chest tightened as emotions he’d tried so hard to bury began clawing their way to the surface. The apartment suddenly felt smaller around him as he stared at Carl, the man who had caused him so much pain, sitting smugly in the middle of his couch, drinking his beer as if nothing ever wrong happened between them.

He couldn’t decide which hurt more—the past he couldn’t escape, or the betrayal of the person who had brought it into his home.

“You’re looking good, kid. Thought it was about time we had a little chat.”

As if his father's words were an unpleasant smoke breezing through his ears, Eddie didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at him. His eyes immediately sought Anne, standing in the corner of the room.

“What is that doing here?” he asked coldly.

Anne flinched slightly at his tone but stood her ground. “I invited him,” she said, trying to meet Eddie’s gaze but failing. “I thought it was about time the two of you talked. He’s staying for a few days so you can... fix things.”

He didn’t look at him. His eyes were focused on Anne as she explained her decision, but Eddie could not hear her words. All he could hear was the loud thump of his heart from the anger bubbling up from a place so deep he almost didn’t recognize it. She brought him here. How ironic considering he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with the woman who was reviving his deep seated trauma. He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he finally looked at Carl.

Fucking ridiculous.

“Fix things? Really?” he said with disdain as he turned back to Anne. “He’s not welcome here. You should’ve talked to me before doing this.”

“Eddie, he’s your father. I just wanted to give you both a chance to—” she pleaded.

“To what? You don't get to make that call, Annie.” Eddie snapped, cutting her off. “He doesn’t care about fixing anything. He never has.”

The years of buried resentment, the disappointment, the anger—it was all in the surface now, demanding to be acknowledged. His father’s presence felt suffocating, and Anne’s attempt to reason with him only made it worse.

Carl chuckled then, leaning forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “That’s no way to talk about your old man,” he said, shaking his head mockingly. “Especially when your dear fiancé went out of her way to include me in your life. Funny though—you didn’t even tell me about your wedding plans. Imagine my surprise when I hear you’ve got that girl’s parents standing in for me.”

“You don’t get to talk about them,” Eddie hissed, trying to keep his composure. “They’re more of a family to me than you’ll ever be.”

Anne stepped forward, trying to talk some sense into her fiancée. “Eddie, please. He’s your father. At least try to show him some respect.”

Carl’s smirk widened at her words. He leaned back, crossing his arms as if enjoying the show. “I see your ‘friend’ has been rubbing off on you,” he said, his gaze fixed on Eddie. “How is she, by the way? Izzy?”

Eddie’s fists clenched at his sides, his entire body coiled with tension. The mere mention of her name coming from Carl’s mouth felt like someone had dumped gasoline onto the fire already burning inside Eddie. He was already sensitive just thinking about her, now he has to hear her name coming of out his father's mouth. He has been struggling to keep himself together without Izzy for more than a month now, and somehow, the universe found another way to fuck him over.

He was shaking in anger.

"Keep her name off your fucking mouth." Eddie growled.

As if Carl expected this reaction from his son, he leaned back with his legs spread, the beer bottle still dangling lazily from his hand, his smile widening.

“See, Annie?” Carl said, dragging Anne into his game without hesitation. “This boy’s been wrapped around his best friend’s finger since they were kids. Following her around, doing whatever she wanted him to do. I said this before but, it's pathetic, really.”

Eddie clenched his fists so tightly that his nails bit into his palms, his lips pressed into a hard line, and when he spoke again, his voice trembled with the effort it took to keep himself calm. “Get out."

But Carl wasn’t finished. Of course he wasn’t. “You’d be surprised, Annie,” Carl continued, his eyes locked on Eddie. “The things my boy will do for that girl. It’s almost funny.”

It wasn’t funny. It was cruel. Eddie felt the words hitting him like punches, each one targeting the weakest, most vulnerable parts of him. The room blurred slightly as his emotions took over him. He couldn’t stay—not with Carl’s presence polluting the air, not with Anne standing by him like he deserved to be there.

I can’t be here. I can’t breathe. Finally, Eddie snapped.

His voice rose, unrestrained and raw, as he turned to Anne, the betrayal still stinging like salt in an open wound. “Annie!” he shouted. “If that man is not going, I will.”

Carl chuckled softly that wasn’t just mocking—it was dismissive, like Eddie’s anger was beneath him and it didn’t matter. Anne’s hesitation only made things worse. She looked at Eddie, her gaze pleading, but her words felt like the final nail in the coffin. “It’s late,” she said gently. “I promised Carl he could stay. It’s for your own good—a path to healing.”

Healing.

The word twisted in Eddie’s mind. There was no healing here—not with Carl, not with the man who had torn him down at every opportunity. Without another word, he turned sharply, grabbing his leather jacket, his helmet, and his keys. The door slammed behind him. He was done. He stormed down the stairs to his bike, his heart pounding, his mind racing. He couldn’t stay. He couldn’t breathe. He was trembling but pushes to hold himself together.

Back in the apartment, Anne froze. She glanced at Carl, unsure of what to say or do. But the old man shrugged and said, “Let him be,” lounging back on the couch like he had every right to be there. “He’ll come home. He always does.”

His bike roared down the empty streets of San Francisco over the speed limit. He screamed his anguish into the void along the howl of the engine. He was angry. At Carl, for tearing open old wounds. At Anne, for betraying him in ways she couldn’t even understand. At the world, which can't seem to give him a break. His life should’ve been going well. He had a career, a home, a fiancé, a wedding on the horizon, and a best friend. Yet, piece by piece, it felt like it was all crumbling around him. The streets blurred past him, and he didn’t care where he was going. He just wants to be away from his father as far as possible.

That same night, Izzy was preparing herself to go to bed, tying her hair into a loose knot as she got ready for sleep. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she reached for it lazily, not expecting much at this hour. But when she saw Eddie’s name on the screen, she immediately straightened.

My father’s back.

That’s all it said.

"Fuck." she muttered. She didn’t need more details to understand the gravity of the message. She wasn't speaking to him for more than a month now but this time, without hesitation, she typed back:

Send me your location.

Her cab halted at the same place they last saw each other: at the bay area. She quickly crumpled a bill on the driver's hand as the bolted out of the vehicle. His motorbike was parked there. She walked around the damp sand, while the cold night wind blew through her dark locks. Good thing she was already wearing her oversized hoodie and sweat pants to fight the cold.

There he was. Eddie.

He was sitting there alone in the sand, curled into himself. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore was loud but she can hear the uneven sound of his crying. Her best friend was a proud, solid bull yet there he was, crying alone in the middle of the night, where no one could see him or hear how broken he felt. He hadn’t wanted anyone to see how far he’d fallen.

Izzy ran towards him without hesitation as she dropped to her knees beside him, the cold sand biting through the fabric of her sweatpants, but she didn’t care. Wrapping her arms around his shaking frame, she pulled him close, burying her head against his shoulder. The faint, familiar scent of wild honeysuckle perfume enveloped them. He didn’t need to look up to confirm it was her. The moment he felt her embrace, he broke even further, his sobs coming harder, heavier. She tightened her grip, her lips pressing against the top of his head in a soothing kiss.

“Let it out,” she whispered. “You’ve been strong for too long, Brock. It’s okay to cry. Just let it out.”

Eddie clung to her, his muffled voice shaking as he finally spoke. “Anne... invited him,” he choked out, his head still buried against her shoulder. “She invited him to the apartment.”

Her heart was breaking for him again, but she didn’t ask for more. She didn’t need the details. Whatever had happened, whatever had pushed him to this point, she knew it wasn’t something he could face right now. She took a deep breath to compose herself.

“You don’t have to tell me,” she murmured, her hand running gently along his back. “There’s no way I’m letting you go back there. You’re coming home with me to the mansion."

His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her closer as if she were the only thing keeping him together. His fingers clutched at the fabric of her hoodie, holding onto her like a lifeline. Izzy sighed deeply, pressing another kiss to his temple. She had avoided him for weeks now, keeping her distance out of respect for his engagement to Anne. But seeing him like this, so shattered and vulnerable—there was no way she could turn her back on him. Not now. Not ever.

The waves continued their relentless dance against the shore, but for Eddie, the only sound that mattered was her whispered reassurance and the steady beat of her heart against his ear.

It was her who advocated for him then. She fought his battles even though he did not need her to. And now, even without realizing it, she was saving him again, bringing him back to the version of himself he had nearly forgotten. Eddie felt like himself again with Izzy in his arms. All because of her.

[lewyn-martell]

.

[merge-conflict]

18, 74, 26 for the fic writer asks! 🖤

Questions here

18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

Yes. Yes. Yes.

I usually retitle a fic or chapter at least once. I used to sit and agonize over the coolest title and just could NOT move on until I've done it, but now I just relax because I know I can update it. Generally what it's named in my Scrivener project is just some sort of placeholder or feeling. My usual vibe is "lyrics from a song which vibes" (yes. it is often the mountain goats... but not always! sometimes it's brown bird.) or "common phrase, but changed slightly" or "technical in-joke". Whatever I find most amusing.

Recently posted a fic called "done dying" which was originally titled "anthem for the already defeated" both of them from song titles (the first is actually "When I Was Done Dying"). I wrote all of the "the binds that tie" (playing with "the ties that bind") before settling on the title, but in my drafts it was always 'sudo chown -R vim:vim .' (now the chapter title). I like to have my cake and eat it too whenever possible. For stuff I can't come up with names for I've started titling them 'scrap: brief summary' or something I think is grandiose or funny so I can stop obsessing over it and start writing lol.

74. You’ve posted a fic anonymously. How would someone be able to guess that you’d written it?

Gosh. I've been thinking about this lately, and I do think I have a distinctive style but it's hard to describe because it's just.. the way I write? I know I have a problem repeating adjectives like 'just' 'some' 'only' a lot, so that's one give away. My habit of just smash-cutting into the middle of a scene without much setup is probably another. My habit of using repetitive sentence construction to hammer in a point. My habit of writing too much damn banter.

26. Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

Tbh the damn things overlap was created to be each damn thing overlapping the next, a huge mess, very little time to breathe (condensing the canon timeline down to about two weeks of Valentine going through main storyline stuff. ~a week of which is actually in the the fic!) I wanted to write a story where you feel relieved when characters get to sit down or take a nap, and I think I've succeeded thus far.

Honorable mention to when her edges soften, where Johnny and Valentine hit the town and each other. Straight from "I'm not gonna fuck you" to competitively tracking the number of orgasms they've both had in the past 3 hours while fucking in alleyways and cars. That might qualify as a sort of wild ride. :3

[pixiexdusts-world]

Meet the Heffley’s

Rodrick Heffley x reader

Summary: Rodrick’s girlfriend meets his chaotic family, and Manny tries to steal her. She loves it anyway.

Word count: 1010

Notes: this is very random but I love Rodrick so I needed to write something

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Title: Meet the Heffleys

Meeting your boyfriend’s family is supposed to be a big deal, right? Like, one of those moments where you dress nice, bring flowers or something, and sit down for an awkwardly polite dinner while his parents judge you.

Yeah. That’s not how things work with Rodrick Heffley.

When he invited me over for dinner, it was more like, “Hey, my mom said you should come over and eat with us or whatever.” Super romantic. But I agreed because, well… I wanted to meet them. Rodrick talks about his family all the time, mostly to complain, but still. I was curious.

So, here I am, standing on the Heffleys’ front porch, wondering if I should have brought something. Probably not. This doesn’t seem like the kind of house where formal dinner etiquette exists.

Before I can knock, the door swings open, and there he is.

Rodrick smirks, leaning against the doorframe like he’s so cool. “Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to show up.”

I roll my eyes, stepping closer. “I’m on time.”

“Yeah, well, you were supposed to be, like, ten minutes late so I could say something sarcastic about it.”

I laugh and kiss his cheek, just to make him flustered. It works. His smirk falters for half a second before he clears his throat and steps aside. “Alright, come in before my mom starts thinking I made you up.”

The inside of the house is exactly what I expected. A little messy, with random shoes lying around, a stack of newspapers no one’s bothered to throw away, and a distinct family chaos vibe. The smell of dinner cooking comes from the kitchen, something warm and homey.

And then I hear it.

“Rodrick! She’s here?!”

Before I can react, a woman appears—short, blonde, and way too excited. I barely have time to brace myself before she pulls me into a hug. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! I’m Susan, Rodrick’s mom. Oh, you’re even prettier than I imagined!”

“Uh, thanks,” I manage, shooting a look at Rodrick, who just shrugs like, Yeah, this is happening.

His mom pulls back, holding me at arm’s length. “Rodrick never tells us anything about his personal life. You should’ve seen my face when he said he had a girlfriend. I almost dropped my coffee!”

Rodrick groans. “Mom.”

“What?” She waves him off. “I’m just happy to meet her. Oh, come in, come in! We’re just about to set the table.”

I follow her into the dining room, where a younger boy sits at the table, flipping through a comic book. He glances up, eyes narrowing slightly.

“You’re Rodrick’s girlfriend?”

“Greg,” Susan scolds. “Be nice.”

“What? I’m just saying.” Greg shrugs, then looks at me. “You do know he’s, like, the worst, right?”

“Hey, shut up, loser,” Rodrick snaps, dropping into a chair.

I grin. “Oh, I know.”

Greg blinks, clearly not expecting that. Then he mutters, “Huh. Okay.”

That’s when I feel a tiny hand grab mine.

I glance down to see a little kid—Manny, I recognize him from Rodrick’s rare stories about him—staring up at me with big eyes.

“I have a girlfriend too,” he announces proudly.

Susan gasps. “Manny! Since when?”

“Since yesterday,” he says, like it’s obvious. Then he looks back up at me and asks, completely serious, “Do you like dinosaurs?”

I nod. “Who doesn’t like dinosaurs?”

Manny grins, clearly satisfied with my answer. “Okay. You’re my second girlfriend now.”

Rodrick groans. “Oh my God.”

Greg snickers. “Dude, you already have competition.”

Manny tugs at my sleeve again. “Rodrick is gross. Do you wanna be just my girlfriend instead?”

Rodrick drops his fork. “Are you kidding me? Mom, tell him he can’t steal my girlfriend!”

Susan barely holds back a laugh. “Manny, sweetie, she’s Rodrick’s girlfriend.”

Manny huffs. “Fine.”

This is amazing.

Dinner is… interesting. The food is good—spaghetti and garlic bread—but the conversation is pure chaos. Susan keeps asking me questions about school, my family, my plans for the future (Rodrick groans at that one). Greg watches me like he’s trying to figure out why I’d willingly date his brother. And Manny? He spends the whole meal making dramatic faces at Rodrick and occasionally whispering, “Rodrick is a doo-doo head.”

Rodrick spends most of the meal making sarcastic comments and kicking me under the table whenever his mom gets too nosy.

At one point, their dad, Frank, comes in late, looking exhausted. He gives me a polite nod, sits down, and immediately starts ranting about something Rodrick did last week. Rodrick barely reacts, just shoveling food into his mouth while his mom scolds him and Greg smirks like he enjoys watching his brother get in trouble.

It’s loud. It’s messy. It’s so different from my own family’s quiet dinners.

And I kind of love it.

After we eat, Rodrick grabs my hand and tugs me toward the stairs. “Alright, we’re done here. Bye.”

“Rodrick, wait—” Susan starts, but he’s already leading me to his room.

The second he shuts the door, he groans. “I told you my family was annoying.”

I flop onto his bed, laughing. “I like them.”

He gives me a look. “You like them?”

“Yeah. Your mom is sweet, Greg is funny, and Manny… well, he’s trying to steal me, but other than that, he’s adorable.”

Rodrick snorts. “I knew that kid was trouble.”

I smile and lean in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Not worried, are you?”

He grumbles something under his breath, but I can tell he’s relieved. And maybe even a little happy.

Yeah. I think I’m gonna like being around the Heffleys.

[formulaonecrumbs]

could you write a Lando x reader where the reader comes from a low-income family and her childhood and teenage years were deeply affected by that? Her life started to improve a little when she began creating content on tiktok and instagram, but it still wasn't anything too surprising or luxurious. Lando came across her profile by accident, got interested in her, and they started talking. After a few weeks of chatting, they planned to meet in person, and Lando picked her up for their date. they went to an extremely fancy restaurant, completely out of the reader’s reality, which made her feel a bit uncomfortable especially because Lando acted like it was just a regular place, even unintentionally being a little rude to the waiter. she felt embarrassed to order food and ended up choosing the cheapest options (which were still very expensive). as the dinner went on, she started realizing that Lando was kind of snobbish, and pretty much everything he talked about involved a lot of money. that made her feel uneasy, especially because of the huge difference between the realities they grew up in

not used to this 🥂

Lando Norris x middle-class!reader

summary: lando takes reader to a restaurant way out of her comfort zone

warnings: rich boy trying his best, writer (me) not doing as the request says 🤗

A/N: thank u anon!!! i wrote this when u sent the request in and reading it back, i’m realising now that i didn’t really make him snobbish 😭 MY BAD. i can rewrite it if u want, all u gotta do is ask. i hope u enjoy it regardless. again it is unedited. love uuuuuu 💋

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

she didn’t grow up with much. not in the sad, movie-montage way—just in the real way. money was tight. bills came in stacks. school trips were “maybe next time,” and birthdays were handmade cards and discount cake. she never blamed her parents. they gave her everything they could. love, mostly. and that mattered. but still, it made her grow up early. taught her not to ask for too much.

by the time she turned nineteen, things had started shifting. not drastically. but enough. she’d built something on tiktok—honest, messy, creative little videos that made people laugh or feel less alone. her following wasn’t massive, but it helped. brand deals, a bit of income, enough to finally buy her own clothes, to take her mum out for lunch every now and then. it was progress. not luxury. but she was proud of it.

and then lando norris followed her.

she thought it was a joke at first. but no—it was him. real, verified, f1 superstar lando norris. and he didn’t just follow—he messaged. funny stuff, casual. asking questions. responding to her stories. talking like she was just another person, not some online profile.

weeks passed. they started calling each other. laughing for hours, sending stupid memes, talking about childhood, music, food. he made her feel like she wasn’t just from a different world.

until they met in person.

he picked her up in a sleek car that probably cost more than her entire life. he didn’t flaunt it—he just drove it, casual, like he didn’t even think twice. he wore simple clothes, but she could tell they were expensive. he grinned when he saw her, told her she looked amazing, even held the car door open.

the restaurant was… a whole other planet. chandeliers. glass walls. the kind of place where you feel like whispering. lando smiled like it was nothing. like this was just dinner.

“hope this place’s alright,” he said, pulling out her chair.

“yeah,” she said, heart pounding. “it’s beautiful.”

she meant it, but also… it wasn’t her. not even close.

the menu was in french. she didn’t even recognize half the dishes. she scanned the prices, eyes wide.

“order whatever you want,” lando said. “seriously. they do this wagyu something something that’s unreal.”

she gave a small laugh. “i think i’ll just get the soup.”

he tilted his head. “just soup? you sure?”

she nodded. “yeah, i’m not super hungry.”

he looked at her for a second too long. not questioning her, just… noticing. something in her voice maybe. or the way she kept folding her napkin over and over.

as the waiter came by, he asked, “still or sparkling?”

“sparkling,” lando said easily, then caught her eye. “wait—do you want still?”

she blinked. “yeah, i usually do.”

he gave the waiter a sheepish smile. “sorry—still water, please.”

a small thing. but she noticed. he noticed.

as the meal went on, he talked about racing, about travel, about how weird fame can feel. sometimes money slipped into the conversation—a fancy hotel, a car he tested—but not like he was bragging. just like it was his version of normal.

but even still, she felt it. the space between them. how far apart their worlds had been.

and somehow… he started to feel it too.

he leaned forward after a moment of quiet. “this place might’ve been a bit much, huh?”

she smiled softly. “a little.”

he scratched the back of his neck. “i just wanted tonight to be nice. special. didn’t really think about how… intense it might feel.”

“it’s not bad,” she said quickly. “just… different.”

lando nodded. “you can tell me if you’re uncomfortable. i don’t want you to feel weird around me.”

she looked at him, really looked, and saw the sincerity in his face. not pity. not guilt. just a boy who cared. who was trying.

“i don’t feel weird around you,” she said. “just… here.”

he smiled. “then next time, we’ll go somewhere with chips and ketchup packets.”

she laughed, and the tension in her shoulders finally softened. “perfect.”

“good,” he said, reaching across the table to gently squeeze her hand. “because i really like you. and i want to get this right.”

she squeezed back. “you already are.”

THE END :>

[zweigsangel]

ex fratboy! chris. smut-angst. 1.8k words.

it’s one of those late nights, and you’re standing there in the middle of a way-too-crowded, kinda messy party that, honestly, you only came to ‘cause your friends dragged you here. the air's thick with too many people, bad beer, and random songs blaring loud enough to drown out any thoughts you might’ve had. and that’s when you see him: chris. the ex you swore you were over. but like, really, are you?

it’s weird though, ‘cause he’s just chilling across the room, laughing too loud, his arm around some guy you don’t recognize, talking animatedly about god knows what. he’s got that same stupid, loose stance, shoulders relaxed, wearing that hoodie he always wore, the one you’d stolen a million times. you think— hope, he hasn’t noticed you, so you kinda try to blend in, sticking close to the wall, pretending to check your phone.

you weren’t always like this, all distant and tense. you’d meet up after his frat meetings, and he’d tell you all these wild stories about his brothers, like the time they tried building a slip n’ slide down the staircase and ended up getting written up by their advisor. you’d just sit there laughing so hard you’d cry, and he’d look at you like nothing in the world could ever compare. and for a while, it felt like he was it. but it ended, kinda messy, mostly because chris was…well, chris. he’d blow off plans, flirt with people at parties, and honestly, it just felt like he didn’t know what he wanted. or maybe he did, and it just wasn’t you. he’d show up late and drunk, ramble on about his deep thoughts on the universe, and then disappear for days, leaving you feeling like some kind of afterthought. eventually, you got tired of being the whenever person, so you cut it off. even if it hurt.

it’s been a few months now, and you’re doing your thing—focusing on classes, seeing friends, trying to move on.

but nah. of course he sees you.

“yo, wait up,” he calls, weaving his way through people, looking right at you. you try to act casual, like this isn’t a big deal, like you don’t feel your stomach flip. he stops in front of you, that grin still hanging on his face. “hey,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “long time no see, huh?”

“yeah, well, been busy,” you reply, shrugging. it sounds casual enough, but he’s still looking at you like he’s trying to read something on your face.

“you look good,” he says after a pause, and it’s so out of character for him to just say something like that, straight-up, that it throws you off for a second “uh...thanks?” you laugh, awkwardly. you know he’s probably just trying to be friendly, but you can’t help wondering if there’s more to it. “so...you still doing the same old chris thing?”

he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, looking away for a second. “i guess so,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. and then he kinda sighs, like he’s tired of the frat boy act, or maybe just tired of himself. “been, uh…been thinkin’ about you,” he admits, his voice low. “more than i probably should.”

you try to brush it off, folding your arms to keep your cool. “oh, yeah? that’s, uh, new.”

“i know, i know, i messed up,” he says, sighing. “just…never got you outta my head, y’know?” you can feel yourself softening despite everything. “yeah, well, maybe you should’ve tried harder.”

he looks at you, his eyes searching yours, and there’s this vulnerability there, like he’s finally ready to admit something he’s been holding back. “you think i didn’t? trust me, i tried. i just…i dunno. couldn’t do it.”

you don’t want to care, don’t want to feel that old pull, but it’s there, creeping up on you. he steps closer, barely an inch between you now, his gaze never leaving yours. “you want me to back off?” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the music. “just tell me, and i will.”

you could tell him to go. could shut this down, walk away, stay done with him. but instead, you shake your head, just a tiny movement, and he lets out a soft breath, like he’s been holding it in. before you can think, his hand’s on your waist, his fingers brushing lightly over your hip, pulling you closer.

the kiss starts slow, tentative, his lips brushing over yours like he’s testing if this is real. then his hand moves up, slipping around your back, and it’s like something inside you snaps. you grab the front of his hoodie, pulling him closer, and he lets out a low sound, his grip on you tightening as he presses his body against yours, his mouth moving over yours with more intensity.

“missed you,” he whispers against your lips, his voice rough, desperate. you barely register the words, just feel the heat rising between you two, feel his hands sliding lower, pulling you against him, his fingers firm on your waist, his mouth moving along your jaw, down to your neck, sending shivers through you. you tug him toward the hallway, away from the crowded room, and he follows, his hand gripping yours, letting you lead him through the maze of people until you push open the bathroom door, dragging him inside.

the space is cramped and a little dingy, but you don’t care. the second the door clicks shut, his hands are on you, pushing you gently but firmly against the door. his mouth crashes into yours, hot and urgent, and your hands find their way under his hoodie, slipping over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. you tug the hoodie off him, and he lifts his arms to help you, tossing it aside without a second thought, his hands already back on you, roaming down your sides, exploring every inch.

he kisses you harder, more intense, his lips pressing down your neck, his hands slipping under your top, that quickly joins the hoodie on the floor.

“god, i’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost a growl. “yeah? thought you forgot about me,” you tease, but there’s no real bite to your words. it’s playful, but you both know the truth behind it.

“never forgot. couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you,” he admits, his hands sliding up to your bra, deft fingers working to unclasp it. you feel a thrill of excitement mixed with nerves as it falls away, and his hands are on your bare skin, exploring, his touch igniting every nerve in your body.

“you’re, uh…sure about this?” he murmurs, his voice low, his hand coming up to rest on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. you don’t even hesitate. “yeah,” you whisper, barely able to keep your voice steady.

he lets out a soft, almost relieved sound, and his mouth finds yours again, hungrier this time, like he’s been holding back and can’t anymore. his hands slide down, finding the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down, his touch steady and deliberate, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. you step out of it, your pulse racing as his hands explore you, pulling you closer, pressing you against him.

you tug at his belt, fingers fumbling, but he’s already helping, working the buckle loose, kicking off his jeans. he’s back against you in a second, his hands on your hips, his lips trailing down your collarbone, leaving a trail of warmth and shivers in their wake.

he lifts you, setting you on the counter, your legs wrapping around his waist. “you okay?” he asks, checking in, “yeah, jus’ do it,” you whisper, barely able to hold back the urge to pull him closer, “please.”

he’s kissing you again, his mouth moving against yours as you feel him press against you, hot and hard, and you let out a soft gasp. “need you,” he murmurs, almost pleading, and that raw honesty sends a thrill through you. you nod, breathless, and he positions himself, sliding inside you slowly, giving you a moment to adjust. it feels incredible, every inch of him fitting perfectly, like he was made for you.

“god, you’re so tight,” he groans, burying his face in your neck, and the sound of his voice makes you moan softly. as he starts moving, the rhythm is slow at first, deliberate, and you feel every thrust, every movement building inside you. he’s murmuring your name, breathless, and the heat between you is consuming. you wrap your legs tighter around him, pulling him in deeper, urging him to go faster.

“yeah? you like that?” he asks, his breath hot against your skin as he quickens the pace. it feels electric, every thrust sending shockwaves through you, and you nod, lost in the sensation.

“so good, chris,” you moan, the words tumbling out as you feel that familiar coil tightening deep inside you. he leans back, looking at you with those dark, intense eyes, and it drives you wild. “gonna make you feel good, okay?” he says, and there’s something in the way he says it that makes your heart race.

with each thrust, the world outside fades away. it’s just the two of you, the heat of the moment enveloping you, and you feel that sweet pressure building, your body responding to every touch, every whisper, until you’re trembling around him, ready to fall apart.

“come on, babe,” he encourages, his voice low and rough, and you can hear the strain in it as he moves faster, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “can’t hold on much longer,” you breathe, feeling that familiar rush as he hits just the right spot, sending you spiraling.

“let go for me,” he says, his voice thick with desire, and the way he looks at you, his eyes dark and hungry, pushes you over the edge. with a loud gasp, you’re coming undone, waves of pleasure crashing over you, and he follows right after, burying himself deep as he lets go. the sound of his voice, mixed with yours, fills the tiny bathroom, and in that moment, it’s just the two of you, lost in each other, together again in a way you thought you’d never be.

as you both come down from the high, he pulls you close, resting his forehead against yours, breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. he doesn’t say anything, just lets the silence settle between you, a quiet, unspoken apology wrapped up in the way he looks at you, his eyes softer than you remember, like maybe he’s finally realized what he’s been missing all along.

and for now, it’s enough to let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.

[drdemonprince]

it's very weird for me because I hear all these stories from my peers about how they were preyed on, about how they were spending all this time stopping older women from killing themselves or being groomed. I recognize that there were people who tried to do this to me, but I generally rebuffed them. it was offline where my mother was abusing me emotionally and (I've come to realize) sexually, gaslighting me into literally thinking she could read my mind, and it was online where I was treated like a real live person with agency who could experience pain

so when I hear my peers saying "oh it's horrible for kids to be on the internet unsupervised, it's all full of groomers," I'm like... the people grooming me were the people outside the computer. the yaoi sex RP at like age 12 was actually a welcome escape because I was treated like a human

Yeah, I'm with you. I had a lot of adult online friends when I was a child and teen and it actually all worked out great for me.

When I was in 4th grade I was active in AOL's video game community, participating in caption contests weekly, and the host of the contest liked my humor so much that he gave me a dedicated spot on the site. He and several of the other games writers were completely supportive and appropriate with me -- they treated me like a funny kid and made me feel like I had something valuable to say, and never crossed boundaries.

After that I was super active on the Invader Zim Obsessives Anonymous forum, which was mostly populated with preteens but was run by a 25 year old woman. She was a big sister figure to many of us, answering our questions about what getting drunk felt like and what it was like to drive a car when we had questions or needed details for the roleplays we were writing. I wrote little raps based on each week's Invader Zim episode and she made a special thread for me to do it and cheered on all our creativity.

I was also really active on virtual spaces like There.com, Gaia Online and Second Life. I went to virtual dance parties with adults as well as teens, traded items, attended game nights and other events, and chatted with them on voice or via text. Sometimes I'd hear an adult talk about their real life problems that I couldn't fully understand but it didn't feel any different from like interacting with a real-world neighbor or friend's parent.

Throughout high school I was on other forums filled with both adults and kids -- the asexuality forums, several Zelda forums, etc. A writer in his 50s even asked me to start contributing to his politics & culture blog when I was 16, after enjoying some of the writing I had about atheism and politics on my Myspace. He & his fellow writers on the blog mentored me as a writer and helped me feel confident in what I had to say and that I had the right to say it.

If I hadn't had all these supportive adults in my life, virtually, I would have been a lot more ignorant about the world, more socially isolated, and I wouldn't have the ironclad confidence that I have in my writerly voice. I am the product of dozens of adults encouraging me, seeing the promise in me, promoting my creative work as something worth paying attention to, and taking my interest in the world seriously.

The only near miss that I had was when I was on Myspace, where an adult man almost groomed a 16-year-old me for a "modeling photoshoot" in his basement. I had a bad feeling and bailed. By then I'd had enough healthy experiences that I knew when something felt off.

I mourn for the old days of the internet, pre social media, and I do not think it harmed me at all to have free and unmonitored internet access. It was never the internet that was the problem anyway -- it was the social conditions that kids are typically trapped inside of.

[just-another-author-i-guess]

This is mainly a question (by no means am i telling u to not write a fic tho if u find it in u) cs the way u characterize judd in ur writing matches so well with the shows but do u think he’d be into CNC?

And if he was how deep into it do u think he would be? Something tame like somno/his s/o telling him to stop but he doesn’t listen (HE STOPS WHEN THE SAFEWORD IS SAIDDDD OFC) or the more extreme part like him chasing the reader around the house 😛

(this is if ur comfortable w cnc ofc 🙏)

Girl the way I had to google what that meant— 💀

Also I really like that question lol, I’d like to do a more like “in depth” story about it but I’m stalling SOOOO HARD rn I just wanna get back into writing so bad ugh 💔💔

(ALSO YES!! MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN BUT RN I GOT 120+ AND IM IN OVER MY HEAD SO ITS JUST A SLOW PROGRESS)

But to answer the question; yes, most definitely.

Warning(s): nsfw mentioned mostly, I know I was reading this shit when I was a minor but guys pls don’t I’m begging you 🙏 minors dni.

≽^•𐃷•^≼

<3 Judd is freakyyyyy and would literally love to chase s/o around with a knife.

<3 like in a loving way tho, but yes that definitely turns him on

<3 I think I wrote something about him fucking s/o to a horror movie and to take it a step further, Judd would love love love to be in that horror movie

<3 Halloween? No wdym, it’s sexy time with Michael Myers (a/n: entertaining my own fantasies here ngl)

<3 if s/o is into it of course. His mom and sister definitely installed both the fear and respect of women and/or future partners into him quite early

<3 it’s something Judd and s/o has talked about beforehand, but if you’re out and about, in college or whatever he WILL find you. He’s unemployed and lives with his parents, it’s not like he has stuff to do, not if he’s horny anyway

<3 he definitely gets off on giving s/o a little scare. It’s the thrill of the chase for him and he’s hard before he even parks the van

<3 you asked him to pick you up after work and he’s late. His van is pretty distinguishable so it’s kinda weird you can’t see it parked outside, so you start walking.

<3 He’s in a black hoodie and sweats, the hoodie drawn above his head when he starts following you. It takes a while before you even notice and with the hoodie above his head, you don’t recognize him right away.

<3 the faster you walk, the faster Judd walks behind you until he’s falling in right behind you. When he grabs you, you freeze and think about all the murder weapons Judd undoubtedly has in his room to cut off the dick on this creep when—

<3 “Judd! What the fuck!” He turns you around and presses you against a nearby building, pulls down his hoodie and looks solemnly into your eyes.

<3 “The fuck would you had done if I was actually here to kill you? You’re not safe alone.” He’s only half joking because despite the fact that he planned this beforehand, he’s now suddenly concerned about your safety.

<3 “The only one making me unsafe is you, fucking asshole.”

<3 There are other less extreme examples where he’s not dicking s/o down publicly (which as stated above is definitely thing he’d enjoy)

<3 y’all have the consent talk at some point beforehand, but he’s not gonna ask.

<3 if you’re showering, he’ll slip in behind you

<3 he’s so fucking hard already, pressing into your ass or the small of your back and he doesn’t say anything but “c’mon. Spread your legs, slut.”

<3 what happened to hello? How are you?

<3 he does feel a little entitled to do so, yeah, but he’s also just very horny and he likes to touch you a lot

<3 not like he’ll give you a hug or anything. He’ll grope your ass (I’m labeling him as an ass man it’s just how I feel 🙏) or if he’s feeling wholesome and shit, he’ll let his fingers lightly brush the back of your neck and your hair

<3 with the safe word thing, he’ll definitely only stop if you say that word

<3 he’s not gonna believe you at no, he’ll need the word because I do feel like he’d have a bit of a hard time cooking off sometimes

<3 doesn’t mean he won’t respect the safe word because he respects s/o obv

<3 as I said, he likes the chase tho so if he’s stalking you, chasing you or some other normal boyfriend activity, he’ll def not stop from you saying so

<3 he’s into knife play and shit so that’s why safeword is important because he doesn’t want to actually hurt s/o yk? But he also doesn’t take squirming and “juuuuddd, stoooppp” for an answer right away

<3 ofc it’s also about reading s/o’s emotions you feel me??

<3 but bro he is NOT afraid to get freaky, he’ll be down to try a lot of things and he’ll he even happier of s/o brings stuff to the table as well, he likes pleasing his partner

<3 I feel like he’d not be THAT into somno bc he likes it when s/o is awake, like he likes to see that slight fear and excitement in their eyes and even tho he’s not opposed to doing it while s/o is asleep he’s still like,,, rather them be awake so he can be a dick bc he knows it turns them on lol

<3 but yeah, to sum this messy not so great headcannon up I think he’s DEEP into cnc, like genuinely I’d say it’s his main style bc he wants to be a horror movie character lmfao 💅

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Hi HELLO I LOVE THAT GIF?? Who made him in the sims contact me immediately 🤝

Also it’s been a looooong while since I wrote for Judd and I feel like I’m kinda out of it haha. But I really wanted to get back into writing just something bc I’m still experiencing a huge burnout and feeling really shit about my writing and stuff bc I haven’t done it in a while,,, I’m super rusty rn 😭 I just wrote this on a whim it’s not even a real head cannon but I hope I answered your question?? Kinda?? I know it’s kinda tame but ahhhhh

But genuinely I really wanted to get back bc reading all the nice things you guys sent me and comment on my works and stuff??? Guys you are too good to me 🥹🤭 I genuinely really like the tiny mini community (if I can call it that?) around this blog and thank you so much for liking and commenting on my stuff!! It literally helps me so much— anyways that was cringe but like enjoy ok bye 👹

[tornioduva]

Dungeon meshi and body proportions

Ok, i'm feeling the rush i got from binging the manga this last week is starting to fade away, i'll be back to being a normal person soon i think. at least, that is before i find a new something for me to dive into uhuh.

Before that happens, i want to praise Ryoko Kui for one last think. The design of the characters!

For years i've expressed (maybe not so much online) my hate towards the "anime style", this homogenization of traits and beauty standards to an artificial degree, and the mass spread and consumption of it. yes, trends exist for a reason, this is not the first nor the last art current to be popular and i'm not the first detractor of one in history. I do think there is something uniquely harmful in this one though, and that is why i'm able to find the energy to be such a pretentious dipshit about it. That is a discussion for another day though.

All this to say that going through Dungeon Meshi and seiing these characters, plus (and in a way because of it) all the additional sketches of the daydream hour bonus sections, was such a breath of fresh air! (at least for what concerns japanese exported stories)

All i could say and praise in regard to character designs in general is perfectly expressed in this video, which i recommend you to watch if you want to hear my opinions (and the video author's too, uhuh):

I want to leave you though with at least one specific praise for me: Falin.

i've seen countless time people (online) just not understanding how people's body work, how much differences there can be and how proportions do distribute and affect the body. in anime I see a lot of short and tall people (mostly women girls) that share the same proportions despite their actual height, and that often leads to think "yeah, she is short" and than she's tall when around someone, or (most often) the contrary. same lenght of limbs, same head to body proportions, and little details like this.

Falin you can tell at a glance she is a tall woman before she's around anyone, even when she is standing near her brother who is taller than her.

Kui did her homework in studying bodies and variations, and, whether consciously or not, she differentiated her in body in subtle but fundamental ways: her head being slightly smaller than her body, the neck being fairly long, and her having somewhat broader shoulders.

I accept that there might be an element of suggestion at play here, considering also how she is dressed most of the time, but I really do think there is a direct effort at differentiation here.

This is the first time in a long time (in a series like this at least) where i've seen a woman carrying herself around others and the space around here kind of like a person like me, tall, would; at first i didn't think much of it, but then i saw her near other characters and....i don't know, i felt a warm, joyful feeling, seeing that i was right in recognizing that trait and being right.

I was especially happy in seeing her next to marcille. not so much for the height difference, but for how different they were in proportions and mannerism. A lesser manga i fear would have used marcille's body type and way of moving and interacting as the default for most other girls, but here she was uniquely herself!

Now, i could've used more extreme exemples to show how this author rocks in body types representations (while aknowledging there could've been even more diversification still), given there are far larger, taller and stranger women, but to me, nailing the little, most subtle details in such a chirurgical manner shows a greater level of mastery and comprehension. As such, Falin left me with a deeper fascination than most other characters.

Sorry for this wall of text, but i needed to let my happy thoughts go, so that i could be free again uhuh.

Feel free to tell me that i'm wrong, or that i should just accept anime media as is. i'm just really happy Dungeon meshi exists as is and i want Ryoko Kui to keep refining her craft, and drawing beautiful women and dwarves.

Plus, this was very much a stream of consciousness, i didn't go into technical details about what i think conveyed what i described, but if someone is interested, or does not get what i'm saying (while expressing it in a curious and gentle way, i won't respond to spiteful assholes), i'll be happy to make a follow up post in which i try to dissect this! For example, i didn't reread the whole manga to find examples of her, i just went to the wiki uhuh. in a follow up post maybe i'll try to go through chapters and pick more specific examples of her.

Anyway, have a good day!

[httyd-art-requests]

Heya! I wasn't sure if this was a legal request since it wasnt listed in your bio, but it is an official httyd video game

I'd love to see the goofy guy Patch from dawn of new riders! Chimeragons really made one appearance, became way too op, and then disappeared into obscurity. But look at the guy...he so ugly and goofy I love him

Your art is gorgeous btw!

( @yuendelahoya )

So funny story. I watched a playthrough of this game when it first came out in 2019, and it's been on my wish list ever since (mostly because of the flight mechanics lol) And now that I found these asks in my inbox again, I checked the Nintendo Store just in case, and it had a 55% discount??? So I got the game and spent the last 2 days playing it and now I'm a changed man (as of posting this, the discount lasts for 2 more days!)

Dragon #125 - MLM Patch (and Scribbler)

I hope they're doing well, wherever they are...

More thoughts and spoilers for the game under the cut!

I made Patch MLM colored instead of some other random Chimeragon, because the game has shown us that he can change colors with every rebirth, which I think is pretty neat :) It also explains why neither Scribbler nor Eir recognize Patch, even after he grows to be a Broadwing and then a Titanwing- if he changes his colors every time he hatches again, then yeah, no wonder they believed there's more than one Chimeragon

I knew what the big twist was going to be at the end because of the playthrough, but MAN does this game not hold its punches. The writers really asked "How can we elevate the Best Friends Forever thing to a whole new level?" and then made Scribbler witness the death and rebirth of his best friend, and now I have to draw these guys with literal tears in my eyes 👍

The sentiment that their friendship literally transcends life and death is so meaningful to me. Patch will continue to die and resurrect, and Scribbler will be there every time to welcome him and forge their bond all over again. The mystery of Scribbler's past, his involvement with Grimmel, and the open ending leave so much room for speculation and theorizing and it's just so incredibly up my alley, it's like it was made in a lab for me lol

This game ended up being a lot darker than I was expecting, but it was honestly so refreshing. The mechanics are simple enough for younger kids to learn, and the artstyle is very evidently targeted at kids as well, but some of the dialogue and the entire theme of death and inevitable loss feels surprisingly mature in contrast. They make you go to Vanaheim and hold a burial for Patch before he resurrects, literally what other kids' game does that?? /pos

Anyways play this game, it's a short and sweet little self-contained adventure, which accomplishes the one task it set out to accomplish: making me cry, specifically

[yuurivoice]

what do you think about the boys in the context of the state of the world? From what I've seen, you're a very reasonable and kind person, so I doubt they'd be on the wrong side of history. Do you see your creations as an act of protest in itself? Your characters are very unapologetically themselves, and youve tackled a lot of hard topics in very tasteful ways! a lot of ASMR artists(is that the right term?) seem to follow a lot of more toxic trends and roles for their characters, mostly pertaining to the prevalence of toxic masculinity. Your stories are the direct opposite of that, and I just think it's a really nice change in pace! All the love, happy early bday!

I feel like Evalas and the associated content will be a pretty loud answer for this, so I'll not go too in depth, but uh yeah I think they'd probably be pissed off right now. Because I am. 😂

Not that they're a bunch of saints. I just think you don't have to be pristine to recognize injustice, betrayal, and wickedness.

I have never been a "this is a space for escapism so I won't denounce evil ppl because what if evil ppl are giving me money" type of creator. I think my work makes some pretty clear statements about love and acceptance that in theory (unfortunately not always in practice) should go hand in hand with those opposed to vile bullshit.

For me, all art is political, and to strip the thing you make of any critique, inspiration, or experience is to simply strip the soul from the collection of noises and shapes you make.

I won't like...headcanon my way through how each character might feel in today's current events, but I know for sure they'd feel shame and embarrassment. I just recently traveled out of country for the first time in a long time and it really helps to get that outside perspective and see how varied and different other places are.

I'll spare you the rant I deleted that followed that, but essentially I wanted to stress that what is happening right now in America is not normal and should alarm everyone. Not to fear monger, but to look you in the eyes and say yes you are seeing what you are seeing. They are doing what they're doing. We are unfortunately standing at the precipice of great and terrifying change, and the best thing I can think to do right now is to tell anyone and everyone who will listen that they have been lied to. They have tested our complacency again and again, and if we just let it happen, I fear we cannot unfuck this.

Under no circumstances should the richest man in the world be holding court in the oval office or be granted executive oversight of government institutions. From the dawn of time we have told stories about corruption and wickedness. Cautionary tales of good versus evil are inherent to humanity.

If we can no longer recognize these things for what they are, we are well and truly lost. And that is a remarkable tragedy. In time, history will wonder how this could have happened...or we will rally, and turn back the tide. There are people who have been deceived, and we are at a point where we can't take a victory lap or be petty. Being right doesn't mean shit when there's this much at stake.

Maybe this sounds overblown to you. Dramatic. I wish it was the case, but this isn't like last time. At all. So don't put your head in the sand and hide. Have conversations. Share your concerns. Don't shut yourself in. Don't let the emotionally charged debate topics distract from the plain and obvious. Evil shit is happening and the structures in place to protect us are being dismantled for the gain of the most powerful people in the world. Fuck whatever hot button politicized bullshit your drunk uncle won't shut the fuck up about, when did he sign off on licking Putin's boots? Have that conversation instead of indulging in the bullshit and maybe we can win back some folks who've fallen into the nonsense vortex of podcast topics to get upset about. That's step one.

Well I spared you one rant and offered up another. Oops. 😂

I don't want to leave you with doom and gloom so I'll say this. Humanity can be very cold and calloused. Through our history we've done really fucked up shit, and turned a blind eye when things shouldn't sit right in your soul. I believe that if you carry the torch of hope and love you can ignite that in others. We are capable of incredible feats of love, just like we are hate, and if we can set aside our anger and bitterness long enough to reignite hope among our families and communities...we win. Those hearts are not out of reach. I won't believe we live in a world where hate cannot be overcome with love and compassion.

If you've been failed by those who should stand by you, support you, and love you, I beg you to not let your heart grow cold. There is so much more to hope for than that brokenness. Don't be overcome with fear and anger, but wield it as righteous passion and find your voice.

Whew. That's a proper yap session. You'd never guess most folks just wanna hear me moan. 😂

[markantonys]

3x06 thoughts! full-series book spoilers

cold open: i didn't realize how much i've been missing ishy until he showed up and i cheered! he was a gentle soul. if/when ishy is resurrected, i'm definitely hoping they'll keep fares fares rather than recast because he is just so wonderful, and then just not do the whole rand bodyswap thing at the end so that we get to see josha portraying rand's final moments in the show, as he and we deserve (though since min's Stabbening viewing does seem to imply that that wound will kill rand's body, i don't know. but there's a lot of ways they could handle the whole situation and it's a long way off, so i won't bother speculating now!)

the liandrin flashback was definitely heartbreaking, but on the other hand, i don't know if it really provided any new info that we didn't already know or couldn't have guessed about her backstory (since they've already told and shown us a LOT about her backstory at this point, we didn't really need every single remaining blank filled in, although it IS very interesting to see that she was snatched by ishy while so young before she even went to the tower!), so personally i think i could've done without it and used the time for something else. but since liandrin returning to her hometown is a book plot point anyway, might as well take the opportunity to flesh out her backstory (plus this scene also showed us the male a'dam statue, which helped us later), and i feel fairly confident that she'll die in ep8 since she's getting all this spotlight.

continuing on the tanchico thread, fun times were had this episode! i loved all the scenes of everybody dicking around in the city, although since there were so many shenanigans, i do feel like we didn't get quite as much forward plot movement in tanchico as i'd expected from their A-plot episode. but then, there isn't really that much that actually needs to be done in tanchico besides moggy encounters (check) and the museum showdown (set up thanks to info learned in this episode), so this plotline was always going to get the shorter end of the stick in terms of Exciting Plot Events compared to the waste & two rivers storylines which do have quite a few big events to cover this season, and therefore it does have time to have some breathing room and scenes of characters just having a good time. it is a good counterbalance to the heavy stuff going on elsewhere!

thom returns, and he and mat talk about rand, just as i'd hoped! and we hear that thom was morgase's court bard for a while and recognizes elayne, though no details yet on what type of a role he might have had in the family's personal lives. mat going "WOO!!! THAT'S MY FRIEND!!!!" when elayne was performing was SO cute oh my god <333 they were a cute little chaos duo this episode, but it was mostly just them doing stuff individually in the same location as each other rather than them having proper interactions with each other (contrast to nynaeve & min getting some good solo chats over on their side of the story), which i was a bit disappointed about since my main consolation prize for removing mat from the waste and losing cauthor interactions was getting to have matlayne interactions over in tanchico, and that's ended up not really happening. but i'll have to hope for bigger matlayne interactions in a future season should their paths cross again!

elayne and min also didn't really interact once again this episode, so yeah, i'm feeling pretty confident now that min is out of the polycule. but we'll see!

nynaeve letting loose and having a good time for once in her life haha bless her <3 and min telling that guy she foresaw he was going to marry jeaine in order to get info out of him when what she actually saw was that he is going to be killed be jeaine - very therapeutic for me who constantly wondered "why doesn't book!min ever even CONSIDER lying about a viewing in order to be able to use people's ironclad belief in her abilities for strategic advantage?" the show is doing a really great job at giving her more agency and showing her figure out how to use her abilities as a tool rather than having her be a powerless vehicle for prophecies, the way the books usually used her.

Mat's Admirer 100% wanted to fuck him, but unclear if mat was interested or even aware of this since he only cared about using the guy for info (though hey, when he comes back right at the end and grab's mat's hand to get his attention, mat did have kind of a "listen i am 100% DTF but unfortunately i'm busy right now" reaction in my opinion haha). i will claim minor cauthor rights in mat saying he was looking for a pretty necklace for a big strong man djfkgjh

the moggy-nynaeve-elayne scene was SO good!!!! 10/10 no notes!! zoe and ceara's acting was incredible here, especially zoe during the moment where nynaeve's brain manages to put up some subconscious resistance despite her still being smiley and docile on the exterior. all the setup earlier in the season of seeing what compulsion weaves look like from nyomi and hearing how drastically they can alter people's behavior when a forsaken-level channeler uses them did a good job making sure the audience would understand what was going on when moggy hits the girls with it here. and the beginnings of moggy's beef with nynaeve are established - she's shocked and pissed and intrigued that nynaeve was able to briefly resist her compulsion!

i'm left feeling that mat hasn't really had much more to do in tanchico than he would've in the waste, so i'm maintaining my guess that removing mat from the waste was more about making space for rand's story to focus on egwene/moiraine/lanfear than it was about creating a better story for mat. he kiiiiiiiinda hasn't done shit all season besides tick off a couple fanservice moments and there's only 1 episode left (though it should be a good one for him given his doorway appointment). haha, i also think that i differ from a lot of book-show fans in that i like mat the most and find him the most compelling when he's being angsty and pathetic, so the harder they lean on him as comic relief, the further he slips away from me even as most other readers are gushing about how he finally feels like himself. (and this is probably a place where my show-first origin shows, because my very first meeting with mat was his s1 version which i found deeply emotionally compelling, whereas a ton of book-first viewers didn't like s1 mat and thought he felt totally off from his book characterization. and it's not about the actors for me because i know donal can nail the emotionally compelling and deeper/angstier side of mat when given the chance! he just hasn't been given many chances for it this season compared to last season when mat was such a sad wet cat. but if we get s4, it should be mat's time to have focus, and rafe & co have always shown an incredible understanding of the true depth of mat's character despite s3 not having a ton of time for him to shine, so i'm really looking forward to an s4 that he has the spotlight in.)

switching gears to the two rivers. not much to say about it from me, but i enjoyed all the scenes! bode & eldrin healing alanna was very sweet - it looks like they're both channelers in the show rather than just bode, which is a neat change. i really really really hope we'll get to see them reunite with mat next season so that mat can catch up on all his family news!

perrin and faile's scenes were so good! in order to make their romance believable, we definitely really needed to spend some time with just the two of them talking about serious emotional stuff and bonding, so i'm very glad that this episode delivered on that front. the romance is still a little more rushed than i would like, but since i also felt that way with lanaeve in s1 and avilayne in 3x01, i just have to accept that this is the way the show does things haha and perrin/faile is the smallest offender of the 3 since it was just a very brief kiss that got interrupted, and i'm sure they'll have even more emotional bonding during the big episode next week before taking their relationship to a deeper level. and regardless, their dynamic is SO much better than it was at this point in the books!

super angsty change to faile's backstory, but it's a great way of telling us what kind of a person she is as well as giving insight into her upbringing (honestly, i might've found seeing this scene play out onscreen a more valuable Supporting Character Origin Story than liandrin's haha although faile telling perrin about it in detail was important for their relationship and that would've felt repetitive if the audience had already witnessed it firsthand). since her dad wasn't involved in the story about her mom and brother, it's a bit open-ended as to whether he survived that incident and whether he knows that his wife is a darkfriend and killed their son, so the door is open for him to arrive as an onscreen character in a future season but it's not SO wide open that he HAS to arrive. it feels flexible to me atm!

i was also really glad to see perrin tell faile about what happened with laila, and to see her offer him some understanding and reassurance. so far, these two are doing an amazing job at honesty and communication! well done team! i will be so intrigued to see how the laila trauma may or may not affect their relationship as it gets more serious (for example, i think we're all expecting it to be part of the reason why perrin gets so frantic and single-minded when faile is kidnapped).

moving over to the waste. rand & avi with alsera was soooooo sweet, i was melting! this scene served several good functions: it shows rand's good heart, it shows avi witnessing and feeling fond over rand's good heart, it shows rand's genuine willingness to learn about and engage with aiel culture, it shows avi witnessing his genuine willingness, and of course, it makes alsera's death at the end of the episode an even bigger gutpunch and really grounds us in rand's feelings during that moment (more on this scene later). if ep8 shows rand tending to the squash garden as he promised to do to meet his toh, i will never recover!

egwene learns some more about dream powers, and rand and moiraine finally talk after rhuidean, though moiraine still doesn't tell him about her alliance with lanfear. so once again, we have moiraine aware that lanfear is going to send trouble the group's way and choosing not to do anything about it, and this time casualties ensue, though unlike last time, moiraine didn't actually know what lanfear was planning, just that she was "sending a surprise". and i loved their convo about the power and rand suggesting that saidar and saidin might not have to be as different as Accepted Wisdom says!

the randgwene breakup FINALLY happened, but boy did they drag it out til the last possible second. i was fine with them wanting to spend more time on the breakup than the books did, but i'm not fine with it being an entire season-long arc that probably won't be fully emotionally resolved until 3x08 (if even then!) because the result is that both rand and egwene are, in some respects, lagging a full book behind in emotional development compared to where they should be at this stage of the story, and they are going to have to really play catchup next season. if we spent a WHOLE SEASON on the randgwene breakup, a good chunk of which was kinda showing that it's maybe not feasible or not a good idea for the dragon reborn to have a love life, how on earth are we going to convince the audience that rand should immediately bounce back and start dating elayne and avi next season? rand starting to dive into new romance only a few episodes after an extremely-emotionally-fraught breakup was finalized just feels like weird pacing, but hopefully the IRL time passage between s3&s4 would help it feel more organic for the audience. still, i just don't get why the show decided that the breakdown of randgwene needed 3 seasons but all the *endgame* romances can be introduced and canonized within a single season each time, and i'm not sure it's a decision i'll ever agree with even after seeing how everything turns out.

as for the actual content of the breakup convo, it felt to me like they were trying to do a "both sides have points" but it is very hard to make that feel balanced in the audience's eyes when one side's point is "you cheated on me with the most evil being in the universe" and the other side's point is "well you don't pay enough attention to me because you're always busy with your career". i don't think rand was TRYING to blame egwene or say "you pushed me towards lanfear by ignoring me", but it is very very easy to interpret it that way and interpret rand's side of things uncharitably based on the dialogue that's had. i do sympathize with both of them, as do other viewers who already loved rand, but for anyone who felt ambivalent or worse towards rand prior to the breakup, i'd imagine he's sunk even lower in their opinion because it is too uncomfortably close to real-world shit to hear a man express feeling neglected over his girlfriend not treating him as her #1 priority at all times (then again, people who already didn't care about rand continuing to not care about him isn't exactly a net loss). i mean, this was randgwene's issue back in s1 too so it's not anything new or out-of-left-field, but i wish rand's side of the conversation had leaned more on "you're obviously afraid of me going mad and you obviously don't trust me, and this makes me feel hurt and isolated and unsupported" - which, yes, i do think IS the main point he's trying to make, but they obfuscated it by having him latch onto "you keep choosing other priorities over me" as his initial grievance and that really doesn't make him look very sympathetic.

it's also a strange route to take somebody who is destined for a) a poly relationship and b) a poly relationship with two extremely duty-bound people. elayne & avi are going to present the same thing of having duties that are more important than their personal relationships and of not being able to treat rand as #1, so why have that be a noted point of romantic unfulfillment for him in his relationship with egwene? how are we going to convince the audience that rand is happy in a poly situation where his partners have other partners, after we've seen him express sorrow that he by himself isn't "enough" for egwene? again, feeling unfulfilled by getting the sense that you're low on your partner's priority list is 100% valid and reasonable, but it just doesn't strike me as something that suits rand's character in particular. but they had to take this angle with randgwene because they had to sell the idea that rand falls into lanfear's clutches because She's The Only One Who Understands Him.

i think if they'd instead done more throughout the season with egwene obviously being afraid of rand's mental state and rand obviously noticing her being afraid, and THAT is what makes him feel the most hurt with egwene and makes him more susceptible to lanfear's claims that she's the only one who accepts the dark parts of him, that would've worked much better for me in creating a balanced conflict between the two of them (because it's sympathetic that rand is hurt by this, but it's also sympathetic that egwene is afraid). that stuff IS there, but it didn't feel as prominent as the "i'm not enough for you and this makes me sad" angle, at least in the most recent randgwene scenes (perhaps because whenever the audience sees or hears about egwene's fear of rand, he is often not privy to it or she does a pretty good job hiding it from him; the only time i can remember him being aware that she's afraid of him is in 3x01 after the bubble of evil and also earlier when he assumed correctly that he'd terrorized her during her accepted test visions in some capacity).

but! this is all based purely off my own initial gut emotional reaction to the breakup convo. as it was playing out, i was thinking to myself "ugh, this isn't how i'd hoped it would go down at all, they're making rand look like a piece of shit" and i can't pretend that wasn't how i was feeling, but i definitely need to rewatch once the season is done and get a more careful look at what is actually said between them, and maybe i'll feel better about it then, especially since i'll be rewatching having seen the full conversation and knowing it ends up going in a better direction by the end of it even if it starts really messy AND having seen ep8 and knowing the final conclusion and emotional note randgwene is left on for the season.

speaking of that better direction, things i liked about the breakup convo: 1) rand ultimately says that egwene wanting More Than This Provincial Life is the very thing he respects about her, so that wins him some points back and reduces the "asshole who hates that his GF cares about things besides him" vibes*. 2) they make it very clear that rand had no CLUE lanfear's been torturing egwene and that he is extremely upset to find out about this (upset on egwene's behalf and realizing that lanfear is a lying liar who lies), so that's really good news! bit of a bummer we didn't have time to deal with the fallout of that this week and have to keep waiting (now TWO more weeks!), but definitely understandable that they want to save it for the big blowout between lanfear and the waste gang during the finale.

(*again, *i* didn't think of rand as this kind of asshole, it just strikes me that it would be REALLY easy for a lot of other people to think so based on watching that scene. ultimately, it comes down to, i don't think the show has done as well at making rand's feelings and his side of things clear to the audience as egwene's. it feels like it's much easier to see through her eyes than his on the situation. it feels like her perspective is much more intuitive and obvious at face-value than rand's, which requires some psychoanalyzing to understand. it feels like, if this were a book, the majority of randgwene's scenes this season would be written in egwene POV rather than rand POV.)

now moving on to the battle. first of all, sammael is obviously not dead and i'm gobsmacked that quite a few READERS think he is lmao (show-onlys being unsure i can totally forgive) of course they wouldn't have gone to the trouble of including sammael in the show only to give him 2 scenes and kill him immediately! this isn't the books where there's 13 forsaken and RJ can afford to blow through some of them in a few paragraphs, we only have 8 and we need to make them count! the show established clearly how hard it is to permanently kill a forsaken, ain't no way dropping a building on sammael was enough to take him out! i truly cannot believe that any readers actually think he's gone and will never be seen again!

he is credited for ep8, and currently he's unconscious and in rand's clutches. will we see him as rand's captive in ep8? that would track with the alleged audition script. could this lead into sammael taking asmo's role of being rand's captive teacher in s4? very possible, but also possible he manages to escape from rand in ep8 and goes on to be a menace in a wetlander city in s4. still, with the notable change that sammael is the weakest forsaken in showverse, that does make me lean towards him absorbing asmo (who is the weakest forsaken in bookverse) as being an easy target for rand to be able to keep as a captive long-term, even if a lot of readers get furious when anyone suggests asmo being cut haha we shall see!

avi busting in to save rand's life 🥰🥰🥰 (and egwene's too of course) and our first sight of her channeling! very exciting! i loooooove how much attention the show pays to giving channelers individualized styles: avi channels magic spears because that's the fight style she's previously been accustomed to. sammael channels with a giant hammer because he has a napoleon complex and is overcompensating for being the weakest forsaken.

and on that note, rand standing there decimating the entire building completely effortlessly, without even LOOKING at it, with his back to it as he's destroying it - stunning, gorgeous, i got chills. sammael getting his ass completely wrecked by rand while rand isn't even bothering to look at him would piss him off SO much and that delights me djfkgjh

and then the scene with alsera. oh my god!!!!!! this is the best scene of the entire season so far, for me. this is a better rand character moment than anything in 3x04 for me (don't get me wrong, 3x04 is a good episode, but as i mentioned at the time, it didn't feel like it was particularly about *rand* so much as it was about worldbuilding & lore & the aiel in general, so this scene with alsera was exactly the kind of impactful rand-specific scene i wanted). josha's performance just blew me away, it was absolutely phenomenal, and i've always thought he was doing great with rand but this was the moment where i really went "oh, yeah, he's going to NAIL late-series rand".

and i really liked that this happened in front of all the other main characters of this plotline, that they all bore witness to this huge moment of rand's emotional arc. moiraine stepping in to try and anchor him got me in the heart! i'm really craving a rand-avi scene in ep8 where they talk a bit about what happened; avi was the main person who witnessed rand's relationship with alsera, so she would make a lot of narrative sense as the person who talks with him about it afterwards, plus if we could maybe hear some of her feelings on rand's unhinged moment, it could help prod us a little bit closer to seeing why avirandlayne is a better fit than randgwene (or randfear). they've set up that egwene fears the dark parts of him and that lanfear revels in them, so it would be nice to see avi & elayne taking a middle ground of seeing and understanding and being prepared to handle the dark parts of him the way egwene can't while still firmly holding him to high moral standards and refusing to Make Him Worse the way lanfear wants to. i don't know, i could imagine ep8 having rand feel awful about losing control and scaring everyone, but avi approaches him and lets him know that she's not afraid of him while also encouraging him to work on improving his self-control. but a scene like this might be too much to hope for considering there's only 1 episode left for the non-perrin plotlines and so much to cover! even if it doesn't happen, it makes me happy to know that avi saw him at such a low moment and still will choose to love him and be with him.

on that note, i believe next week will be solely the two rivers plotline. nice to give the big battle its own devoted episode (i'm thinking happily of ROP 1x06 with the dedicated southlands battle episode, which i think is still my favorite episode of all of ROP so far), but boy is it going to be tough to wait 2 weeks to check back in with the waste plotline! another downside of dragging the randgwene stuff out so long and making it sooooooo messy and High Drama is that it feels like they've set up more than they'll be able to satisfactorily resolve in only one more episode, especially given how much other stuff needs to happen in ep8, but we'll see!

[angels-fantasy]

Top Secret Fiction Ch. 6

The Confrontation

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Description: After meeting the one and only pro hero Dynamight on a dating app, you two begin to see each other. Because of the dangers that come with his hero work, you both promise to be completely honest with each other from the beginning; though you can't help but keep one big secret from him.

You write fan fiction, mostly about him.

Chapter Details: deku makes an appearance here heheh. bakugou lowkey might like fanfics? but only if they're about him. scary confrontation 😟 reader is a bit sad and confused :(

Word Count: 1.4k

previous chapter

As soon as Bakugou got home, he opened his computer and looked up 'Bakugou x Reader'. What came up was a ton of links to different websites, one of the top ones being HeroFiction.Com.

Clicking on it, he scrolled through the sight and found many other original stories about different pro heroes.

While doing this, he learned that this was called fan fiction, which he'd heard about before, but he never paid attention to it because he didn't care.

Keeping the website open, he leaned back and wondered, were you writing fan fiction about him? You must've been, based on your notes. Did you write for other pro heroes, or just him?

A small part of him hoped you only wrote for him.

He sighed and rubbed his hands down his face, trying to think about what the hell he was going to do about this. Clearly, this was something you didn't want to tell him, meaning you kept it a secret.

And he hates secrets, but for some reason, this didn't feel too bad. He was almost... flattered, in a way. He was also curious and he just wanted to know more. But how would he even bring this up to you?

Deciding he'd need help with understanding this website, he called someone he trusted.

"Hey Deku. You know what fan fiction is, right?"

Blushing, Izuku replied with "Why are you asking me that Kacchan?!"

"Because I know you used to write that shit back in high school!" He explained, "Just tell me what you know about this site called 'HeroFiction.com.'"

A lightbulb went off in Izuku's head, "Oh yeah I recognize that name! It's basically a website for pro hero fanfiction. I've seen a few good ones actually-"

"Yeah okay, thanks." Katsuki said, cutting off his friend.

It was time for him to do more of his own research, specifically on this website.

...

When you woke up the next morning, you found yourself in your bed wondering how you got there.

Did I fall asleep? You wondered.

You cringed at the thought of Bakugou seeing you asleep and hoped you didn't do anything embarrassing.

Rubbing your eyes, you grabbed your phone from the nightstand and saw a text from Bakugou letting you know he had left after putting you in your bed.

You smiled at his thoughtfulness and texted him back a thank you, and an apology for falling asleep while he was over.

After tossing your phone down onto the bed next to you, you stretched and blinked away any leftover sleep.

As you were stretching your legs you felt your foot hit something softly. Wondering what it was, you sat up and looked at the foot of your bed, eyes widening when you realized it was your notebook.

But this wasn't just any notebook- this one had all of your notes for fics you were planning on writing.

You thought about how Bakugou brought you into your bedroom, and your heart sank to your stomach when you realized he probably saw your notebook.

"Noooo!" You cried and placed your hands over your eyes. "Kill me now..."

You prayed to any higher power out there that he didn't read anything.

...

Your prayers clearly didn't reach anyone because a few hours after waking up, you got a text from Bakugou that said, "Can we talk? ASAP."

Biting your nail nervously, you texted back "Sure" and asked when and where he'd want to meet up.

Quickly texting back, he told you he'd meet you at a cafe near your neighborhood in a few hours.

A little while later as you got ready to meet up with him you felt like you were going to cough up your stomach and die from your nerves.

You didn't want to accept it, but deep down you knew he figured out your secret. It was already terrifying trying to keep what you did in your free time a secret, but now that the person you wrote about knew, was even more terrifying!

It seemed as though your frantic thoughts made time go by even faster than usual, and it was now time for you to leave so you could make it to the cafe on time.

Taking a deep breath and patting your face, you stepped out of your apartment and began to head to the cafe.

...

As Bakugou sat at the cafe in the outdoor dining area, he tapped his foot anxiously as he awaited your arrival.

After his phone call with Deku and doing his own research (which just consisted of reading other fan fictions he came across), he came to the conclusion that he would accept this hobby of yours, if you were honest about it when he confronted you.

Since he had browsed the website a bit, he came across some stories that were actually decent (but also others that were very, very questionable and he really hoped you didn't write anything like that. ESPECIALLY not a story with him and that damn Deku).

He'd never admit it, but it boosted his ego a bit to know that you wrote about him, and he definitely wanted to read some of your stuff. He wanted to know if it was as good as some of the other ones he has read.

Suddenly, he saw your figure walking towards him and he was snapped out of his thoughts. He sat up straighter and placed his elbows against the table, leaning forward.

You sat down across from him silently with a shy look on your face. "So..." You said softly, "You wanted to talk?"

He cleared his throat, "Yeah. I'll just get to the point..." He said, before hesitating to say, "That night I was at your place, I saw your notebook-"

You grimaced, knowing exactly what he was talking about, and placed your hands over your face in embarrassment. "I'm sorry." You said.

Letting out a deep breath, you uncovered your face and continued to speak while looking down at your lap. "I knew this would come up eventually, I just didn't think it'd be so soon..."

Bakugou scoffed, "So when were you gonna tell me? Never?"

You frowned at his tone, "No! It's just not an easy topic to talk about Bakugou. It's embarrassing and I wasn't just going to say 'Hey Bakugou, did you know I've been writing fan fiction about you for three years?'"

He blinked. He could understand where you were coming from. In fact, he'd probably be more weirded out if you had told him that easily. But, even though you were honest now, it still doesn't shake his uneasiness about you keeping a secret from him.

Sure, it wasn't a huge, life threatening secret, but it was still something you kept from him. He liked honesty, especially in a relationship and it's something he valued heavily. A part of him felt like he should've known about this sooner, since it was about him for gods sake!

He sighed. "Before you go assuming things, I'm not mad at ya, okay?" He said, "I just... I think I need time to think about this alright? A few days at most."

You furrowed your eyebrows subconsciously, making your eyes look big and puppy like. Well damn, how was he supposed to stay away from you when you gave him that look?

"Okay." You spoke sadly, "I understand. I shouldn't have kept that from you, so again, I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "'S fine."

You rubbed your sweaty palms on your legs and stood up. "I'll give you time now, alright? Just, call or text me whenever you're ready." You said and gave him a small wave before walking back in the direction you came from.

As you made your way back, you thought about your talk with Bakugou.

If you wanted to keep seeing him, maybe you would have to stop writing. You were starting to really like Bakugou, and you didn't want a silly hobby to get in the way of a potentially serious relationship with him.

You felt your eyes tear up. It was hard to think about giving up writing. You had made friends through your writing, your own little community online. It was great! But realistically, could you keep this up forever?

That same night, you posted on your page.

Hi everyone. I've decided to take a break from writing for a while. I'm not sure how long it will be, but I will still leave everything here for you to read.

Thank you, xo.

next chapter

authors note

HIII omg im so sorry i haven't updated this fic in a while 🥹 this chapter was actually really fun to write and omg writing readers thoughts at the end lowkey made me sad!! how do you feel about it? pls lmk!!

love ya!

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(those in pink couldn't be tagged)

[krokonoko]

okay so a couple more nuanced thoughts about the whole JayVik thing

if you're not satisfied with the ending we got for them, I get it.

I know ppl have been handing this around celebrating that all the queers get something in Arcane but. I mean, MAN if this lineup isn't a perfect illustration of where there's still work to be done when it comes to equal treatment of queer relationships in media.

but at the same time, personally, I'm still mostly satisfied with what we got. and not because of "let men be platonic friends". cause jfc how often do we have to say it: they are never anything BUT platonic friends. "the moment is stronger because it's platonic" look, as a whole ass aspec person: shut. the moment would not have been cheapened by a queer kiss. but I digress.

the reason I'm alright with this might be because I expected worse. like, way worse. that, and also this moment did not feel cynical to me, or queerbait-y, or like it was trying to satisfy all sides. it felt very earnest to me.

and I haven't kept up with creator interviews or anything, but from what I've gathered, there seems to have been a certain. lack of unity? when it comes to how the different parties viewed the relationship between JayVik, starting with LoL's notorious reluctance to confirm male characters' queerness, and ending with statements from writers and staff being pretty contradictory when it comes to these two.

so personally, this looks to me like a situation that might be a bit similar to Korrasami. it's giving "we all know what this is, but this is as far as we can/are willing to go."

do I still think that's kind of unfair? yeah.

do I have a couple other gripes with Arcane, and esp its ending? you know it! (mostly as in. Jinx is not really dead. right? you can't be fr about that.)

but when I add everything up, I'm walking out of this with a very positive tally. and that includes JayVik. and I think recognizing that there's still work to be done is important, but I also think if you're handed one of the most epic queer love stories in history, even if it doesn't dare speak its name, it's alright to be happy about it!

[toska-writes]

Hello Toska!

I really enjoy reading your stories, they are really good! I see so many fanfics that swear, or have nasty stuff, but yours are good. I was wondering if you do requests? If so, could you do one with the Bad Batch (mostly Hunter and Crosshair) where the reader is a female Jedi? And the reader goes on a mission and risks their life to protect one of the Bad Batch but they get injured? Take as much time as you need, thank you for your time! :)

Yeah this may be from a few months ago…. But here we are

“Concussion Protocol”

Summary: concussions are risky business, and a certain “unconcerned” sniper makes sure everything this ok

Pairing: Crosshair x Reader (Platonic)

Warning: small mention of blood, throwing up I guess, nothing crazy

Word count: 1313 (I meant for this one to be a short blurb but whatever

Notes: I changed up the request a bit but it was just a small thing I wanted to write

The ringing was so loud. Though maybe it was so loud because everything else is so quiet. Or maybe you couldn’t hear anything else at all.

The only thing you did know is that if you kept thinking about this it would make your head hurt more than it already was.

And that was saying something. Your head felt like it weighed an extra 50 pounds as you were hunched over trying desperately to catch any breath and keep your head from hitting the floor.

Ringing, that’s all it was. For a moment you could hear your own thought and could have sworn something touched your shoulder.

You couldn’t tell, it didn’t matter at this point because in all honesty you couldn’t even tell where you are.

No no the something definitely touched your shoulder because it was a lot firmer this time. Your whole body shook with whatever was on your shoulder and if it wasn’t for something else grasping your other arm you definitely would have fallen over.

You looked over slightly, more even breaths rolled through you now, and finally something came into focus. A hand…. Oh that’s what was holding you up right now.

The shaky image of helmet comes into your view with a hand now place under your chin slightly lifting it up.

The way the helmet was moving you assumed the person hold be talking to you, it was either that or the world was spinning around you.

They looked familiar, whoever they were, but if you tried to think anymore you were pretty sure your head would pop right off. What did even happen? It was blurry looking back now.

Crosshair watched them for a moment, their eyes lost in thought finally trained back onto him but only for a moment before they drooped again.

He felt the growing weight of your face in his palm before you slumped over even more

“Okayyyy” He muttered more to himself since the calls of your name moments ago fell on deaf ears. The first thing Crosshair had to do was get you off of the battle field.

He was just lucky he saw you in time, the amount of now broken battle droids scattered around your unaware mind scared him. Scared him more than he would like to admit.

“I found them, I just need someone to cover me.” Crosshair spoke cooly into the comm, the panic rising in him however contradicted him.

A confirm from someone on the other side didn’t really matter to Crosshair at this moment, it mattered getting you to open your eyes again.

Finally the ringing died down, enough to recognize there was a voice coming from somewhere extremely close to you. It took a moment more to realize it was your name someone spoke.

The fight to open your eyes was hard. The dying light still hurt your eyes as they tried to adjust again.

“Hmmm?” Was all you could get out before you felt a thumb trace over part of your forehead.

It worried Crosshair of where this blood was coming from, he tried to keep in away from your mouth and eyes with his thumb for a moment.

The sound of blaster fire sounded closer to his head than he would have liked.

“Come on Crosshair go!” He heard hunter practically yell in his ear. Right he could worry about wiping your face later.

You felt yourself move off the ground slightly. Looking around you were about to protest to the person that you still couldn’t identify in your state, but the swirling world did not pair well with your head. This resulted in you quickly shoving your head towards the armored chest that held you.

A groan must have escaped your lips but a husked voice reassured you quickly. Wait no you definitely knew that voice, but for the love of maker a face nor name could make it to your brain.

A feeling did however, and it was warm in your chest- you had nothing to worry about if he was here.

“Where are we going?” You finally managed to slur some words together without moving your head too much.

“Towards the Marauder.” He spoke clearly to you, no more ringing seemed to disrupt your hearing. “Can you tell me what that is?”

The question struck you as odd for a moment. Of course you knew what the Marauder was….right? That didn’t stop you from thinking for a moment before you responded with “… a ship?”

“I’m actually impressed” was all that came from whoever held you as he started to slow down more. You couldn’t tell with your eyes closed when your surroundings changed but a quick tap to your check and you opened your eyes to the inside of a ship.

“Is this…” you started, a limp hand gestured around before returning with a thump to your lap. “ the Marauder.

The figure now crouched in front of you with on hand keeping you sitting straight up nodded once before reaching with his other hand a removing his helmet.

“Can you remember anything else?” He spoke softly and slowly to you, but you didn’t answer.

The man had a tattoo over his eye, one that caught your attention immediately.

You knew who that was. A smile broke across your lips and a small laugh forced its way through your mouth. A shaky hand of yours reached out to the side of his face with the tattoo. He let it happen and watched your face hoping for any recognition.

“Crosshair.” Finally something you remembered

The man, now you were sure was Crosshair, nodded ever so slightly again but the smirk was prominent in his features.

“I’m going to clean your head ok?” He rasped.

The smile couldn’t be swiped from your face either as you continued to smile at him. “Crosshair.” You spoke again. Just like the first time it wasn’t a question, you were sure.

He hummed as a response before pushing you back slightly and dampening a rag as he still was crouched on the floor.

“I’m tired.” It was the first and only thing you were thinking about or could think about. The pounding in your head and the swirling of the world was becoming too much.

“You just have to wait a few seconds for me ok?” The cool ragged touch your face and surprisingly didn’t burn. “I just have to make sure nothing too serious is going on up there.” He poked the middle of your forehead with his finger.

Crosshair deemed his work satisfactory enough when he could finally locate one of the many cut along your forehead. Grimacing at it he decided that it would definitely need stitches.

But you didn’t have to know that right now. “All done.” His nimble hands returned to your shoulders pulling you up. Your eyes once again opened, though you couldn’t fall asleep since Crosshair did anything in his power for you to keep talking to him.

“Is it nap time?” He almost couldn’t make out your words for a moment before he took your face in and sigh.

“Don’t tell Tech, but yeah I think you deserve a nap time.” Crosshair still planned to scan for more injury’s but could letting you sleep change a lot?

Before he knew it your body leaned forward and quickly crashed into his own, your head found its stop between his shoulder plate and his neck perfectly.

The words were soft now muffled into his skin but he could nearly make out “Thanks Crosshair.” The voice faded out towards the end but that what brought the smile back to his face.

Thought he was sure they would never hear it again small “ Of course ad’ika” was muttered into the air before he scooped the padawan up into his arms once again to move them someplace more comfortable.

————————————————————

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[kooppss]

Fucking Kim Taehyung (teaser)

Teaser for a still unnamed Taehyung series. This is from the first chapter — their, sort of, first meeting after many years.

word count: 500

He looks in your direction with a slightly amused expression and a crooked smile.

He looks a little surprised, but definitely not as much as you look. He raises his glass subtly as if motioning hello to you.

It can’t be.

Does he recognize you? Does he even remember you?

“You know him?” Sohee whispers in your ear, noticing something is going on with you.

It snaps you out of your shock a little.

You nod as you turn to look away from him. “Yeah, we knew each other in high school,” you reply quietly.

She gives you a questioning look as if saying, ‘That’s it?’ you shrug and turn back to look at the chairman and the new director.

Fucking Kim Taehyung.

From this point, you have no idea what the speakers are talking about. You just try to calm your beating heart and stop blushing like a stupid teenager.

You down a second glass of champagne as if it’ll help you to wrap your mind around the fact you’re standing in front of Kim Taehyung. You feel like you should pinch yourself, to make sure this isn’t a wild dream. How is that the reality of your life? How is it even possible?

When it’s his time to talk, you feel like you spiral even more. His deep voice fills the room. “Thank you, Mr. Roberts for your kind words. I’m excited about this new opportunity. I hope to lead the department through the challenges we have the following year.” He continues talking, you try to listen, you really do. But your mind is in haze. His voice has a calm confidence quality. He commands the room’s attention easily with his gentle charisma and natural charm. And probably the way he fucking looks, because normal people don’t usually look that good. It’s like he didn’t change at all.

He raises his almost-empty glass and smiles. You feel like he’s looking directly into your eyes as he says, “I can’t wait to get to know and to work with all of you. Thank you for coming.”

But you might be delusional. You probably are in delusion. You’re in some sort of hallucination. Because it can’t be happening.

Why does he have this effect on you? After all these years?

Everyone is clapping. You blink a couple of times and snap back to reality.

Sohee is looking at you with an amused look on her face while she’s slowly clapping.

“I never saw you blushing like that for a guy.”

You frown at her. “I’m not blushing. It’s just the alcohol,” you shoot back too quickly for it to be normal.

She chuckles and raises her hand in mock defense. “Okay okay, so will you go to say welcome?” she motions her head in his general direction.

You look to where he stands and can only see the sea of people surrounding him.

“Nah, I need to head out. I’m meeting Gabby at some bar.”

It’s not a lie. Mostly not a lie. You are going to meet Gabby. But if you head out now, you definitely will be there earlier than you told her you will.

Yet you know you need to get out of here.

So you say quick goodbyes to the people around you and deep out as soon as possible. Practically fleeting from the event.

Running away from facing a meeting you're not ready for. Not right now.

This is a very small taste of the story and the vibe. Let me know what you think and if you have some name suggestions ❤️