#been a while and i feel like i will be attacked for this

[slapmeshigaraki]

: •̩̩͙ ໋ "let me take care of you, hm?" •̩̩͙ ໋:

Every bone in your body ached, throat stinging as you swallowed. Your eyes squinted, the brightness of the overhead light stinging them. It was too warm, your thighs sticking together underneath a thick blanket with a familiar scent. You shifted in place, willing your body to move slowly, but before you could sit up, a voice cut through the silence.

“No no no, be still.” The silver haired boy spoke at a volume slightly louder than usual. He wasted no time rushing over to where you laid on the couch, the fabric making indents in your skin from how long you’d been laying there.

“Xavier, I can’t feel my legs. I have to get up,” He shook his head.

“You’re weak. You need to eat before you try to move around too much.” You scrunched your nose as he sat on the coffee table beside me, a bowl of an ambiguous substance tucked in between his hands. He stirred it slowly, steam pooling off of the spoon. He blew on it once or twice before extending it for you to try.

“Xavier, who made that?”

“I did,” Your stomach turned at the thought. Xavier couldn’t boil an egg properly. The thought of a meal prepared by him had you feeling worse than before.

“I’m not hungry, really. I’m fine. I think I just need some water and-“

“Baby, please. I just want you to feel better. Try one bite for me, yeah?” His face softened, eyes wide as he stared at you, the spoon still pointed in your direction, taunting you, daring you to take it into your mouth. You took a deep breath, unable to deny him when he pleaded so sweetly, before leaning up and taking the metal spoon between your lips. You chewed it slowly, waiting for a foul flavor to attack your tastebuds, but it never came.

“Do you want some more?” You nodded hesitantly, curious to taste the flavor again.

“Is it good?” You took another bite, the warm broth of the soup soothing your throat and coating your insides. You nodded once more, leaning in.

“You know you don’t have to feed me, right? I can do it myself.”

“I know, but I want to. Is that okay?” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper as your eyes locked.

“Yes.” A faint smile crept across his face at the admission before he reached the spoon out again and you let the warm liquid caress your tongue.

“Sweet girl, always so strong. I love getting to be here for you like this. Taking care of you when you need me makes me so happy. You know that?” He said, picking the towel up from beside him and wiping it against the corner of your mouth, your lips almost touching from the close proximity. He put the bowl behind him, his soft fingers resting against your face, before lifting your back up slightly and sitting on the cushion beside you. You laid your head against his lap, finally closing the gap between your bodies.

“You worked so hard in the battle yesterday. I knew your body wouldn’t be able to handle all of that stress. Why didn’t you let me just do all of the work, hm?” he asked, as his skin made small, rhythmic circles against yours.

“I want to help you whenever I can. I don’t want to see you get hurt while trying to watch out for me.”

“Do you not think I can multitask?” There was a hint of laughter hidden in his tone.

“I do, but I just don’t want to burden you by making you do so.” The humor in his expression was gone as his gaze searched yours.

“Taking care of you is not a burden to me, in any capacity. You get that, right?”

“Yes…” His eyebrows scrunched together at the response before his palm found the back of your head. He slowly brought your faces closer together. Your heartbeat seemed to stop in your chest as your lips met his. You closed your eyes, melting against his touch before he pulled back without any warning.

“Let me take care of you, hm?” Suddenly, you felt a cool touch beneath the warmth of the blanket as his fingertips danced across your chest, making the hairs on your skin stand up as he trailed them from your collarbones and underneath the fabric of your shirt. His light eyes never left yours, studying every contortion of your face as he continued touching you.

“All you have to do is ask for help, pretty girl.” The words caught in your throat as his fingers tenderly massaged your nipple, twisting it softly back and forth between his fingers nonchalantly. The heat beneath the blanket only grew as you fought against the desire to rub your thighs together.

“I want you to help me, Xavier.” As the words left your mouth, his fingers moved to the other nipple, pinching lightly before continuing the same pattern.

“Aw, do you? You might have to be more specific. How will I know what you need from me unless you say it directly?” Your legs seemed to spread on their own at his words, knees falling apart as your pussy ached from his voice.

“Touch me,” You said, no, whined.

“I’m already touching you, silly girl. Do you not want me to touch you here?” His fingers stilled completely against your heaving chest before they found their way toward your face again.

“Open,” His tone was dark now as his index finger gently tapped against your bottom lip. You immediately let your jaw hang open, sticking your tongue out a little. He slid two of his fingers against your flesh, collecting your spit onto them until they glistened with the wetness as he pulled them back out.

“Tell me where you want my fingers.”

“On my pussy, please.”

“Aw, please?” he said, his tone mocking yours, “My sweet girl, you don’t have to beg. I’ll help you anytime you ask.” Without wasting another second, he slid his hand under the fabric once again, sliding beneath the waistband of your shorts.

“Poor baby, you’re so wet already. Were you too scared to ask for me to take care of you like this?” Your eyes rolled back as his slick fingers ran up and down between your lips.

“You don’t have to be nervous to ask for my help baby. I just want to take care of what belongs to me.” The pad of his thumb made slow small circles on your clit, the wetness causing it to slide around beneath his touch.

“Even this little clit is scared to ask for help, she keeps running away from me.” A low moan fell from your lips, your back arching as you tried to push your hips into his touch.

“Xavier…”

“What is it, princess?”

“I- I need you to make me cum.”

“Aw, what a big girl for me saying what she needs so directly, so cute,” he said before sliding his middle finger inside of you. His thumb continued its movements as he slowly pushed himself in and out, curving his finger slightly, causing even more whines to spill from your lips.

“Is that the spot? Is moving my fingers like that gonna make this tight little pussy cum?” His pace quickened.

“Answer me baby.”

“Yes, yes I’m going to cum.”

“Whose pussy is this?” Your thighs started to clamp together around his arm the faster he slammed into you. His slender digits curled inside of you deeper than you’d felt before.

“Yours Xavier. It’s your pussy.” Another finger forced its way into your hole.

“Aw, pretty girl. Don’t tense up, relax. Let me inside, c’mon princess. Thought you were gonna let me help you, hm?” He stalled his movements, giving your walls time to stretch around him.

“That’s it, calm down. Let that pussy open up a little for me, yeah?” You nodded slowly, lost in anything that he said, the heat between your legs the only things that you could focus on any longer. He began moving his fingers again, hitting that same sweet spot inside of you that made your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Xavier, I’m gonna cum. Don’t stop.”

“Good girl, cum for me. Give it to me. I want you to let go all over my fingers, baby.” You moaned his name, hands reaching to stop his movements as his fingers continued to fuck you through your orgasm, every twitch of his digits overstimulating you.

“Xavier please, I can’t take it anymore.” He slid his other hand beneath the blanket, forcing your thighs apart.

“But I thought you needed me baby? This pussy is still drooling all over my fingers. I have to keep taking care of you until you aren’t scared to ask for my help anymore, hm?” he whispered. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as that same sinister smile stained his face.

♡ a/n: super busy week tragically, senior year of college is kicking my ass smhhhh. sooo since i won't have time to write anything fresh i thought i would post some of my older fics here :))) they are heavily unedited ngl. i'll probably do two others this week since valentine's day is coming up and i won't have anything better to do lmao,, there's one's for the meanie! series for caleb and sylus. anywayyy lotta yapping this time mb,, have a good day angels !!

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 11

Ch 12 is done and I'm kinda foaming at the mouth to give it to y'all- but I need to wait to finish ch 13-

Enjoy!

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 11 >>next

Finding The Immortal was harder than expected but you weren’t surprised. Cecil worked The Guardians to the bone, you were sure. Nevertheless, you found him in the end, quickly flying next to him to greet him.

Surprised, the man looked at you before giving a small, weary smile while greeting you back. “This may sound crazy and like I’m digging into your life, and I understand if you don’t wish to speak about it, but I really need-“ You stopped as soon as he grabbed your shoulders, making you both stop midair and face each other. “It’s okay, take a breath.”

“See- that’s the thing! I don’t need to breathe, I don’t need to eat, I can’t die because I’m immortal like you due to magic and I need to talk to someone who gets it because this past week I feel everyone’s been acting crazy and it’s making me feel crazy- And- and I’ve lost you.” You looked at the shocked man. “You’re immortal?...”

“Yep.” You nod. “… Long story?” The Immortal asks slowly, getting the same response in return. His beeper goes off and without even looking at it he turns it off. “That may have been important.” You pointed it out, but he just chuckled and smiled. “This is important too. I’m sure the others can do well without me for a bit. Now, how about we talk over some food? I know this little family dinner in Las Vegas.” You relaxed, nodding at his suggestion.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“- and then he just tells me to be careful around certain magical weapons because they might hurt me- Like dude, you told me I’m immortal, taught me a bit of magic, and then dipped telling me to see him in a week at the same spot- he could have at least given me a way to contact him after telling me that something might kill me!” You sigh and take a bite of your burger and fries. “You were right, by the way, this is a great spot.”

Immortal chuckles at your complaint. “At least there is someone who is helping.” He furrowed his brows as he also ate bits of his steak. “Or is trying. I had a mental breakdown the first time I realized that I’m not aging and keep defying death.”

“Two days after I had a panic attack thinking about how everyone I love will eventually die, even Nolan and Mark- sure it’ll take a few centuries but that’s still nothing to immortality! The old bastard has been acting weird since I told them too, and Luthor keeps annoying me about his blasted party- which I’m like 90% sure is a front for my birthday- and today I’m supposed to meet the British bastard, but before I have to visit someone else-”

“Breathe, it’ll be fine, you’ll live.” The ancient man tried to reassure you with a small joke about the situation. “I can’t give much advice about this- your immortality seems very different from mine, and to be honest, I never actively think about it considering how sensible of a subject it is. Especially the ‘how many people will pass right by you’ topic. It’s…”

“Terrifying?” He sighs and nods at the completion. “It’s nice to know I’m not alone anymore, and that you thought I’d be the best person to talk about it with.” He plays with his food. “Therapists say that it’s good to talk about your feelings, right? I think it will be great for us both to talk openly about it- I don’t have a phone, but I do hang by the hero memorial stone every other Sunday- if, you know-“

“I’d love that, thank you Immortal…Abraham? Have you chosen a new name?” As your soft smile turned to a confused look the man only laughed, assuring you to call him whatever. Perhaps after that many years, names do lose their importance, or maybe it was the fact that he never had one when he was born in the Stone Age that could be translated to New World speech. “The honey pancakes are to die for, by the way.” His choice of words makes you snort with amusement.

“…You and Lex Luthor are friends?” He asks, a mix of confusion and surprise filling his tone. You just give a long sigh. “Friends is such a strong word…”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You waited patiently in front of the manor’s front entrance, smiling once the doors opened, immediately being greeted by the butler. “I’ll never hear you call me by my first name, will I Sanford?” You teased the older man as he led you through the halls. “I fear not, ma’am.” He smiled as he bowed, leaving you once you walked by him, getting closer to Samson.

You set the little box of treats on the accent table in between the two armchairs as you took your place across Samson while you both greeted each other. “How have you been? How’s that suit going?” Your soft-spoken questions are met with a defeated sigh and a shrug. “It’ll take two more days.”

“You know… You don’t need the suit or powers to do some good. Let me finish, please-” You quickly interrupted. These men were always so quick to jump the gun. “You’re rotting here. I’m not telling you to drop the suit but in these two days, you could go see the outside. It won’t kill you. There is this kid, Adam. He is staying at the hospital I volunteer at and he’s quite a big fan of Black Samson-“

“He’d be disappointed to see me-“ You swiftly but gently tapped his foot. “He’s one of the kids you saved when you lost your powers, Sam. He saw you lose your powers and still hold up kilograms of ruble just so he could have a chance at escape. That boy admires you now more than ever. You need to face things and it’ll be better for you if you do it before you feel like you’re worthy again just because you’ve got powers again.”

“That’s harsh, kid.” Samson almost pouted. “Learned from the best.” You shrug and he smiles. A moment of silence passes between you two before he finally asks where the hospital is.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

John was on his tenth cigarette, he was showing great restraint, really. He knew he made a mistake in asking Zatanna for help, but he seemed unable to do the opposite lately. They both had been arguing for an hour, Constantine knew that the girl would take to Zee like a cat to catnip, but this was making him regret letting Zatanna know more beyond a magical kid needs help. “I’m just saying- maybe Batman should know, she’s his kid-“

“The numpty has been locking her up in his mansion and ignoring her for years, her daft siblings too. The rogues had to raise and give her the attention Bruce wasn’t willing to.” He scratched at his chin before taking another puff.

“Maybe Bruce-“ John didn’t let her finish. “Don’t. Don’t you dare finish that, Zee. She’s just a kid- a kid who ran away because she thought Batman would kill her. Between the two of us, you should know better. You’re giving him too much grace.”

“Are you two mind reading or just mean mugging each other? Sorry for being late, by the way. Was finishing my project and lost track of time.” Your voice broke the two from their argument.  Zatanna looked at John with a raised eyebrow. “She doesn’t look like the little kid you described.” John clears his throat, brushing off the comment on his manipulation before he introduces the two. “I thought it would be good to expose you to different kinds of magic-“

“You’re ditching me.” John choked on his words as you crossed your arms, quickly denying the accusation. “- It’s just- I- Zatanna is a great Elemental mage, I thought you’d like to learn more about Umbrakinesis-“ Zatanna, at John’s rambling and pleading look, stepped forward. “It’s nice to finally meet you, John spoke highly of you.”

You gave her a gentle smile as you came closer and landed in front of her. “I doubt that, though, it’s nice to meet you too. Love your shows.” Your eyes moved to Constantine. “So, you two are going to teach me how to manipulate shadows? Can I learn the other elements and the mind-reading thingy you both were doing?”

“Telepathy, love.” John sighs as you give him a blank stare and double down. “Mind-reading thingy.” Zatanna chuckles softly at the look of pure defeat on John’s face.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Dinner was quiet. For the past week it’s been awkward, especially as Nolan kept missing dinners and breakfasts, and seemingly avoiding you and Mark specifically. “So… how has your day been?” Debbie asks, trying to lighten the mood.

“Amber and I got together, like- for real. And I mostly dealt with small stuff today. Robberies, Elephant Man, three times, the sort… Did dad text or- call, at least?” Mark mumbles, tired and slightly sore. Debbie shook her head. “No, but I’m sure he’s fine.”

You shrug once all eyes are on you. “Talked to Immortal about- you know. Also trained my magic some more and found out some elemental magic just hates me. Water tried to drown me…” You glared at the glass as you spoke, getting up with a groan after you finished half of the food. “My everything hurts. I’ll go sleep, thanks for the meal mama.”

“Aren’t you going to wait for dad?” Debbie asks softly, trying to hide her worry. You just shake your head and take your plate to trash the remains and put it in the sink. “Nah. He wants to act like the sperm donor, he’s going to get treated as such. Besides, gotta check up with my friends in Gotham. Good night.” You waved her off, not noticing Mark’s brows furrowing.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

While Hal was gaging as he encased the mangled body of The Joker, calling for the Watchtower to notify Batman that Joker had been found, Red Hood and the Sirens were celebrating, well- Jason and Harley were.

“Batman is going to be angry.” Pamela sighs in her wine glass. “Batman? Angry? Why, he’d never.” Selina joked, laughing before sipping on her own wine glass. “He’ll bust a vein when he finds out it was our little hero who did it.” Selina’s eyes catch Jason’s figure as he tries to climb onto her coffee table. “Wait- No! It’s-“ She and Pam cringe as the table wrecks to the side, the man’s body making a loud thud as he kisses the ground.

“Broken.” Catwoman sighs. “You good kid?” Ivy asks, almost being drowned by Harley's hysterical laughing. “I’m amazing! Best day of my life!” He slurs, giving two thumbs up before dropping his hands and groaning. “B-man is going to be so mad.”

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou

[dollzites]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ “THE LOVE ART CREATES”

୨ৎ pairing: boyfriend!seunghyun x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff! sweet! cute! and everything you need

୨ৎ summary: you’re an artist who has always loved art and how it makes the soul feel. seunghyun? the same way of course but you’re much more on the.. well, shyer side and it gets in the way of things when he’s always asking to see the art you’ve created. number one rule? never be shy around the art genius himself.

୨ৎ from myeong: hello hello!! so excited to take this request since it’s so adorable and sweet! thank you for requesting it and I hope you can enjoy it!! x

— ᧔•᧓ being able to sit in a room for hours upon hours wasn’t for everyone but you? it was most definitely for you. the art that you created whether it was a simple painting or drawing was so special to you and it’s been that way since you were a very small girl. having a gift is something a lot of people wish for and your gift was creating such beautiful art pieces to share with the world but.. in your case it wasn’t that at all. sharing your art wasn’t something you were familiar with. being an extremely shy girl wasn’t always ideal but it always happened that way for you and you didn’t push it.

— ᧔•᧓ seunghyun was the most supportive boyfriend you could ever ask for. he was gentle, sweet, kind, and never pushed you to show him the art you’ve created even if he so badly wanted to see it. he wanted you to be ready but that doesn’t mean he won’t try to steal a few glances here and there at what you’re doing. to him he thinks of it as cute and can’t get over it.

— ᧔•᧓ “can I just see a little bit of it? you don’t have to show me anything you’ve finished but maybe a little something that you’re working on?” he would ask while you stood there biting your lip trying to decide if you wanted to show him something not finished or not. it made you feel bad especially when he was so sweet about it all so when you slowly nodded your head he felt like he was on the moon! (literally!) his eyes grew big and he did everything he could to not embarrass himself from being so overly excited. too excited.

— ᧔•᧓ showing him the first piece you finished a few weeks ago was a bit difficult for you because of the low self esteem you felt while finishing it. was it your best? not at all but seunghyun thought the opposite. his long fingers sliding down the painting in a slow manner allowing himself to enjoy the art you created.

— ᧔•᧓ “this is breathtaking.. why didn’t you show me this sooner? I know you’re shy and all baby but, look at this! it’s beautiful. the colors you’ve chosen go so well together.” seunghyun wouldn’t be able to put the painting down. he woukd continuously praise it and make sure you know that it was such a good piece.

— ᧔•᧓ he would finally put it down to pull you into a tight hug wanting you to feel the warmth and love from him that you adored so much. “please continue showing me your art, hm? you do so well. I can’t believe you won’t try to sell it! I just know that you could become a little star.” his words always helped you through the darkest thoughts and feelings. “you’re my little star how’s that sound? my sweet little star.”

— ᧔•᧓ from then on you continued showing him the pieces you created but the shyness didn’t disappear unfortunately. each time it would take a bit of time to show him but he would wait patiently like the amazing boyfriend that he was. deep down seunghyun loved it when you got so shy to show him the piece. he would reach his hand up to grab the back of your head and pull you into his chest so you could hide from him.

— ᧔•᧓ “you keep acting this way and I’ll have to attack you with so many kisses. I know you’ll like that but I won’t be able to stop myself.” you’d giggle in his chest while he continued looking at the piece praising it and taking pictures of it so he could show anyone that asked about you and what you did for fun/a living.

[soangelbaby]

Is it possible to write a imagine Clark Kent x bimbo girlfriend…?

ꨄ rini’s note ; ahh tysm for the request !!! i loved this a lil too muchh so hope u enjoyy my angel babe <33

clark had always been drawn to those who were more than they seemed. beneath the layers of the small-town boy who never really let his guard down, he was a sucker for someone who could keep him on his toes.

you were playful, teasing him in that way that made him flustered but also feel a flicker of danger. you knew exactly how to get under his skin—flirty, cheeky, and endlessly confident. it wasn’t just the way you dressed, though. sure, your sexy mini skirts and body-hugging tops left his eyes lingering a little too long, but it was the way you owned your every move. every conversation had an undertone of seduction, but it was balanced with that sweet, innocent aura that kept him entranced. he liked that you pushed him, liked that you didn’t ask for permission before turning the heat up.

clark walked beside you entering the doors of smallville high, eyes flickering ever so often to your corduroy mini skirt paired with a halter top that’s just a little too tight but accentuating your figure anyway, and heels that make your legs look endless. “you’re really give the campus a heart attack today, huh?” clark murmured in your ear, his arm tightening around your waist. you giggled, grinning mischievously while twirling your hair in your fingers, “what can i say?” you shrugged, “i just love turning heads, would you rather them not look?” clark rolls his eyes, fingers dipping into the fabric of your top, he leaned closer—just enough for you to feel the warmth of his body, “you’re gonna get me in trouble. people can’t stop staring at you,” he glances around the quad, “and you’re out here loving it.” the possessiveness in his unmistakable, even as he tries to appear unaffected.

you just laugh, nudging his shoulder, “what’s the matter, clark? you jealous?” snickering, but there’s no doubt you enjoy seeing him like this. he glanced down at your lips, your teasing smile, and his mind buzzed with a mix of temptation and desire. “not jealous. just… don’t get too comfortable, you’re mine and i don’t share.” it was the kind of power you had over him, something that made him question his own control. but he liked it. he dropped the ball, his free hand cupping the back of your neck, pulling you closer. his lips crashed into yours, hard and hungry. there was no hesitation, no playing games. just pure, raw chemistry.

“i didn’t think you were the possessive type, smallville. guess i’ve got you wrapped around my finger?” you mumble, barely pulling away from his lips, fingers tracing the edge of his shirt. for a second, clark lost himself in it, his hands sliding to your hips, gripping you tighter, needing to feel every inch of you against him. he wasn’t used to being so out of control, but when you were around, everything else seemed to fade away. clark’s breath hitched as your soft lips brushed against his jaw, then down his neck. the mix of your sweet perfume and the way your body fit so perfectly against his was driving him crazy. “you know, no one else can handle you the way i can.” you smirked, a wicked glint in your eye. “i don’t need anyone else. just you, clark.”

[littelovelunette]

this one isn’t smut, but could you do vi and reader having an argument, and vi raises her arms in exasperation, and the reader flinches and has a panic attack because of past childhood trauma, and vi comforts reader and makes sure they’re safe

Promise Me

Contains implied PTSD, trauma, mentions of abuse, sensitive content

This one feels personal…

Vi had been letting go of herself, pit fighting and getting drunk, it made you sad.

You knew she was suffering deep inside and she was hurting but acting the way she did, hurt you as well. You just wanted her to put things in the past and move on with her life but she didn't seem like she was interested in doing that anytime soon.

You both weren't in an exclusive relationship, it was more like a random hookup where you both caught feelings somewhat and now live together. It was weird but you never found her sober enough to talk it through.

You were watching Vi stumble into the living room, clearly drunk as the bottle of alcohol fell out of her loose grip. The bandages she had on her arms and the chest bindings were all soaked with blood and sweat. She looked awful.

“You're drunk. Again.” you said, your tone clearly fed up and angry.

Vi only hiccuped a little and slurred a response back, “Looking so pretty while so angry.”

You rolled your eyes and walked over to her, sitting down at the couch, pulling her by the wrist so she would sit down beside you. “I don't understand. I'm trying to help you but you're not letting me. You're ruining yourself going down this path of painless self destruction.

While I wouldn't exactly say it's completely painless.” You pointed out the bruises and cuts she had from the fights.

You hated her being like this. She was just as good as an alcoholic by now.

“Stop nagging me,” Vi simply said, getting off the couch instead of letting you patch her up like she usually allowed while she was drunk.

You got up, now even angrier than before. “Vi,” you called, “I'm not nagging, I'm only saying you should take care of yourself. How do you even tell yourself you love me if you can't even bring yourself to love you?”

Vi groaned a little, “Blah, blah, blah, I'm too tired to go through your shit right now. Can't I just go to my room and take a fucking nap?”

“No, we need to talk about this.” You pressed despite knowing she was drunk. She was drunk pretty much all the time. What difference would it make if you questioned her about it now?

Maybe she would change, maybe she wouldn't. Instead of waiting longer for pretty much no results, it was better to just know now.

Vi huffed and crossed her arms, eyes bloodshot due to the alcohol, “What do you gotta say? Spit it out.”

“You need to stop all this fighting drinking, it's not a healthy coping mechanism,” you said, crossing your arms as well as you eyed the other woman.

“Healthy coping mechanism?! Look around! We're in the Undercity! Nothing’s healthy here if anything!” Vi yelled, her voice raising, making your heart pound against your chest almost painfully. You hated seeing her so drunk… and verbally hurtful.

“Do you wanna be like all the junkies we see out on the road?” You asked, trying to maintain a calm collected tone.

Just then Vi raised her hands in exasperation and you took a step back, flinching and hiding your face. Vi completely paused seeing you do that.

“Love,” she said, her voice an octave lower, she walked closer, hand hovering over your shoulder as if scared to break you, “Love, what's wrong?”

“N-Nothing,” you pushed her away and walked into the shared bedroom, trying to collect yourself.

Her raising her hands like that brought back bad memories. Pain. Screaming. Begging. To just stop. It felt like something was stuck in your esophagus and you couldn't breathe properly.

Forcing yourself to swallow the growing lump in your throat, you stared at yourself in the mirror. A small, barely visible scar on your left eyelid, the bruises that littered your legs. It was like every other memory you tried to bury deep away, away from your everyday day and mannerisms, they were coming back to haunt you again.

You could almost hear the screams and the begging behind your eyes, somewhere in your head and you weren't sure if you were being sane right then.

Something was bothering you…

“Sweetheart,” Vi walked into the room and cupped your face making you look up at her, “Tell me what's going on.”

You let out a breath, a shuddering breath as the imagery of blood, darkness, tears flashed through your brain at once making you flinch and try to pull again but Vi didn't let you.

She wrapped you up in her strong arms, hands caressing the soft locks of your hair and even if she was sweaty, bloody and reeked of alcohol you couldn't help but find love within her hug. And acceptance.

You knew she was always there but it was harder to open up about something so sensitive if you've buried them deep long enough.

“I'd never hit you. Never.” Vi said, kissing your head and making you look at her again to ensure that you understood what she said.

“Pinky swear?” you managed to ask in a low voice.

It broke Vi’s heart that you needed that much reassurance despite her saying she wouldn't hurt you ever, making her wonder just how many levels of hell you had been through in the past.

“Pinky swear…”

[fawnhart]

rafe getting sugar a puppy ! ㅤ⭑๋ ࣭

It’s been a month since you showed up in Fawnridge with Rafe.

the last you heard about Outer Banks, was that your parents were making a scene at the police station, crying and carrying on like you’d been kidnapped. the cops just shook their heads, probably sick of hearing it.

You were an adult.

You left on your own.

Case closed.

Of course, that didn’t stop the rumors.

Mrs. Maggie, queen of town gossip, though she was always a nice soul to you, she sure had a lot to say about it over at the annual neighborhood picnic.

“I’m tellin’ you, her mama was screamin’ about demons takin’ her baby. Said God told her she needed to be ‘cleansed.’” She said stuffing her mouth with another chocolate covered strawberries “If you ask me, that girl was smart to run.”

“Oh, bless her heart, I woulda’ done the same” Mrs Dolores had sighed “You think she’s safe livin’ with Rafe though? That boy’s got a past.” The twiggy old lady said while sipping on her pink lemonade

Mrs. Maggie just huffed “Well peter tells me he saw them that night but y’know that son of a guns got bad eyesight, so who knows….Anyways, Past or not, at least he ain’t trying to drag her back to a bunch of crazies!.” she whispered harshly

That’s the story people have settled on. You ran away because your parents lost their minds. Maybe they’re right. Maybe they’re wrong.

Either way, you’re here, and you’re not going back.

⭑.๋ ࣭

The day he brought home the puppy, you nearly had a heart attack.

You had been curled up on the worn-out couch, half-asleep, wrapped in one of the blankets Rafe had let you steal from his room. The breeze from the wind drifted through the open window, mixing with the scent of the blueberry and vanilla candle you had bought and the faintest trace of his cologne. It was peaceful until the door swung open, and in walked Rafe, looking way too smug for your liking, a tiny cream colored ball of fluff cradled in his arms.

“What do you think?” He said grinning, his nose bridge and cheekbone stained with a streak of soot. He’s probably supposed to be at the fire station right now.

You sat up immediately, blinking at him in disbelief "What is that?"

He raised an eyebrow, like the answer was obvious "A dog."

"A dog?" you repeated, as if he’d just walked in with a live grenade. "Are you serious?"

He sighed, stepping further into the apartment, the puppy’s tiny tail wagging excitedly "Dead serious." He set the puppy down on the floor, and it stumbled a little before trotting toward you, pink tongue peeking out as it sniffed your leg.

You stared at it, it was a long haired dachshund, your heart betraying you with how fast it was beating. It was stupidly cute. Fluffy beige fur, big brown eyes, floppy ears that didn’t quite match its tiny body. It looked up at you like it had already decided you were its person.

You glanced up at Rafe suspiciously. "This some kind of trick?"

His jaw propped open, like the question actually offended him "What? No. This little man was stuck in a pipe down by the fish shop. The fire chief let me keep him"

"I thought you said the landlord has a strict ‘no pet’ rule" You said confused

“We just wont tell him" he said simply, shoving his hands in his pockets. His voice was even, but there was something underneath it—he was nervous "The company might be good."

You looked away, suddenly feeling exposed. The puppy whined, pawing at your leg, and you hesitantly reached down, letting it sniff your fingers before gently running your hand over its soft fur.

"We don’t have to keep him," Rafe added quickly, like he was preparing for you to refuse. "But I thought you might want-"

"I’ll keep him," you blurted, surprising even yourself. You could feel him staring at you, but you kept your eyes on the puppy, swallowing past the lump in your throat. "But if he pees on my bed, he’s heading straight to your room"

Rafe snorted "He’s, like, two pounds. Relax."

You shot him a glare, but it didn’t have much bite "What’s his name?"

He shrugged "Didn’t name him yet. Figured you should."

You looked back down at the tiny creature in your lap, watching as he curled up like he already knew he belonged there. A small smile tugged at your lips before you mumbled, "Chip."

Rafe tilted his head "Chip?"

"Yeah," you said, lifting your chin stubbornly. "Like a chocolate chip"

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head "Alright, Chip it is."

⭑.๋ ࣭

Two days later, you were dragging Rafe into the tiny pet shop on Main Street, determined to give Chip the absolute best life possible.

"This is ridiculous," Rafe muttered as you practically bounced toward the dog sweater section, Chip peeking out from the tote bag slung over your shoulder "The dog is fine."

"Ugh! You’re ridiculous," you shot back, flipping through the tiny sweaters with laser focus. "He needs a wardrobe"

Rafe exhaled sharply, crossing his arms as he stood behind you like a grumpy bodyguard.

The store was small, shelves stacked high with treats and toys, the scent of kibble lingering in the air. A couple of older ladies near the checkout counter kept sneaking glances at the two of you, whispering behind their hands.

You could already hear the town gossip forming.

"That’s Rafe Cameron"

"She’s the girl sleeping with him, right?"

"Are they…?"

You rolled your eyes, pretending not to hear them, while Rafe just ignored them completely. He was good at that.

"Okay, what about this one?" You held up a tiny baby blue sweater, pressing it against Chip’s fluffy body. He yawned, completely uninterested, his puppy breath hitting you, but you grinned "You look so handsome."

Rafe made a face "It’s a dog, Sugar, not a toddler."

You scowled "First of all, his name is Chip. Second of all, you’re just mad because he’s cuter than you."

Rafe scoffed, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was holding back a smirk "Whatever. Just hurry up, can’t believe I’m spending my break buying dog clothes." He muttered

You ignored him, dropping the sweater into the cart before moving on to the treat aisle. You were hyper-focused, scanning the options like it was life or death, while Rafe leaned against the cart, looking deeply uninterested but still following you anyway.

By the time you reached the checkout, your cart was full. Dog food, a fluffy white dog bed, the sweater, a tiny heart-shaped tag with Chip’s name engraved on it. The cashier, a girl around rafes age with a curly blonde bob, raised an eyebrow as she rang you up.

"Didn’t know you were into the whole ‘happy family’ thing, Rafey" she said, voice dripping with something you didn’t like.

Rafe’s expression didn’t change, but you felt him shift behind you, his presence solid and unwavering "Just get the total, Kelsey."

Her eyes flicked to you, her lips pressing into a tight line "That’ll be ninety-four fifty."

Rafe handed over the cash before you could argue, and as you gathered your bags, Kelsey leaned in slightly "Guess you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger, huh?"

You narrowed your eyes "I guess you don’t know what you’re talking about, huh?"

Her mouth opened slightly, but you didn’t give her the chance to say anything else. You turned on your heel, brushing past Rafe as you headed for the door.

Outside, the air was warm, the smell of smoke and fried food drifting from the food shacks down the street. You walked a few steps ahead of him before finally grumbling, "that girl sucks" you said tugging your little blue dress down

Rafe chuckled, falling into step beside you "Jealousy looks ugly on you"

You shot him a look "Jealous of what? Her?"

He didn’t answer right away, just kept walking, hands stuffed in his pockets "I don’t know," he said after a beat "You tell me."

You frowned, but before you could respond, Chip let out a tiny yawn from inside the tote bag, snuggling deeper into the blanket you had tucked inside.

You sighed, shaking your head "I don’t care, you can do whatever you want." You said not sure if you were convincing him or yourself

Rafe smirked, but he didn’t push it "Yeah, alright."

And as the two of you walked back toward the apartment, the sun dipping low over the road, you felt something settle in your chest,

something warm.

© 𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[tvckerwash]

hmmm I agree it could've been a way to show ambessa's cunning side, but having her be the mastermind behind the attack at all honestly feels...somewhat disingenuous to her character the more I've thought about it. ambessa's thing in season one is that she never lies about her motivations, and is in piltover because she genuinely wants to advise jayce and mel in a time of war—the problem is that she's so blatantly self serving and only doing so for her own goals that it makes it difficult for us as the audience to trust her or her word in any capacity.

for example, is ambessa wrong when she tells jayce that the council is the problem? the mind hiding behind the body or whatever it was she said? in my opinion, no. we've seen that the council was consistently an issue, and jayce himself had been growing more and more frustrated with them over the course of the season, among other things.

I want to be clear though that I'm operating along the lines of "what story beats can be cut or changed to make season two more consistent with season one" over "how can we make the existing plot of season two make more sense while still hitting all of the same beats", as while I think act one is salvageable with changes, acts two and three? nah those gotta go—but that is just my opinion as a guy on tumblr dot com. 

renni's attack on the memorial service would still happen, but instead of it being directly initiated by ambessa it could be because renni was pissed the other barons decided to work with the dude that killed her son (as lbr the only reason ambessa was such a central figure to the plot of season two, alongside mel and the black rose, is so riot could make them champions and sell a book). ambessa would then still use the attack to try and weasel her way into a position of authority in piltover’s government, but there'd be more focus on her battle of wits against mel.

if the chembarons aren't removed from power, then caitlyn would have no need to launch a strike team to take them out and dismantle shimmer since they’d already be doing it, and therefore she would have no need to use the gray. like I don’t think I need to explain why having “the good guys” in the eyes of the writers use chemical weapons is bad and needed to be handled with a level of care the they clearly were not capable of, especially when the only other characters we’ve seen use it as a weapon were silco and jinx respectively. 

IF they wanted to keep the gray, I would’ve kept it as an environmental pollutant and connected it to the forgotten dying firelight tree plotline instead of using it for shipping drama, and they could even still keep said plotline connected to hextech! 

Jayce could have seen how strong, cool and collected Caitlyn was during that attack. Let her save him at some point. I think she could have convinced him to make her Sheriff after that. Plus, Jayce folds like a house of cards any time someone he loves asks him for anything lmao.

one of the things I truly despise about season two is how people have been gaslighted into thinking jayce has no backbone and is incapable of being assertive and putting his foot down when that is not the case at all. go rewatch every interaction he has with marcus and every council meeting he's in after he becomes a councilor.

jayce already knows how capable cait is too, but whether or not she’s capable doesn’t change the fact that he cares about keeping her (and piltover!!!! he's the security guy!!!!) safe above all else. she’d end up as the sheriff eventually, I’m just not convinced it's a position that she’d be given by jayce. I could see mel or ambessa being the ones to suggest it and jayce being outvoted on it though, just swap the fucked up chest thumping dictator scene with an incredibly tense council vote.

I also think jayce being too occupied with viktor as an excuse for anything is...ehhhhhhhh because season one was constantly showing us that jayce took his position as councilor and the responsibilities that came with it very seriously to the point that he was pretty much never at the lab anymore.

anyway I don't think vi needed to break up with cait the way it happened tbh, especially because it was so obviously done for drama and nothing else. this is maybe a hot take but imo caitvi has always been the weakest relationship in the show as it functions entirely off of tropes and ship bait instead of being organically developed. they do not feel like two characters who have any real chemistry together—they feel like dolls having their faces smashed together.

any split between them should've probably revolved around vi's struggles with trying to find a new identity for herself and her remaining loyalty to jinx as her sister (and how it represents her relationship to zaun)—it's important to remember that vi is more ideologically aligned with silco than she is with vander in season one, and getting past her desire to save jinx and the "all enforcers are just asshole criminals in fancy uniforms" was going to take some character development.

the easiest and most tragic answer is to prove silco right—jinx has changed too much for vi. we've already seen her be incredibly distressed over witnessing the brutal violence jinx inflicted on the firelights in episode six of season one for example, so don't give jinx a redemption arc (because she really didn't need one, let her be a bad guy) and make vi see that her mayhem needs to be stopped because people are getting hurt. don't give her a badge immediately either, have her work alongside them like she did with jayce during the shimmer raid, and let vi be the one who decides to put it on of her own accord, not because caitlyn asked her to do so.

The thing that bugs me most about Caitlyn's arc is how obviously she was forced into the position Jayce had been set up to fill.

Jayce was the de facto head of the council that Sheriff Marcus (keep that in mind) reported directly to for city security.

He was the Golden Boy, Man of Progress, beloved by everyone in Piltover for the invention of Hextech! Charismatic! Handsome!

They didn't NEED martial law. After Jayce emerged unscathed from the terrorist attack, most of the council dead, Piltover would have been falling over itself to give him sole authority regardless of him wanting to quit the council right before the attack.

And Jayce should have been beside himself with rage! Jinx turned his invention, his dream, into a weapon that nearly killed him and the two people he loves most! Mel and Viktor, at the same time! She ruined his peace deal! (And killed Silco, but for some reason Cait and Vi never tell anyone about that)

But nope. He's just sad, and tries to talk Caitlyn down from wanting to kill Jinx.... Like wtf!! Where did his passion go?? His recklessness? Caitlyn got it all.

Let's say he's still reeling after killing the kid in his shimmer raid and fearing the consequences of violent intervention. Fine. But then there is the attack at the memorial. Now it's bigger than Jinx, and his entire city is threatened.

Picture the end of episode 1, with the council gathering in the basement after the memorial attack and it is JAYCE marching in to announce the strike team, with Caitlyn and Vi beside him, with their shiny Hextech weapons.

They didn't need to give Caitlyn political power. She could have become Sheriff under Jayce! She would have had nearly the EXACT same scenes. She doesn't get a single moment where she acts like a political leader in Act 2 anyway!

We never see her do anything the sheriff wouldn't do, which tells me this was a late change to cram all the remaining story into one season, to every character's detriment. If Caitlyn had just been following Jayce's orders until running into Vi, her flip would not have felt so jarring.

She loves Jayce as an older brother, she's grieving her mother, she and Jayce could have BOTH been manipulated by Ambessa. Let Caitlyn be at the forefront of all the awful shit she's ORDERED to do, instead of ordering it HERSELF.

By giving her ultimate authority instead, the few clipped scenes of her redemption, her "I know" and letting Jinx go free are nowhere near enough to get the audience back on her side. As evidenced by how many people hated her arc this season.

[love-byers]

i've seen a few anti-byler people say they view byler the same as percy and nico from percy jackson, meaning that both dynamics are just a tool to reveal one character's sexuality. and i think that's interesting because i've always thought the opposite

if you're not familiar with percy jackson, percy is of course the main character, and nico is a recurring side character introduced in the third book (there are 5 books total). in the sequel series, heroes of olympus, it is revealed in the fourth book (of five total) that nico once had a crush on percy.

nico's crush on percy was undoubtedly just a tool to reveal the fact that nico was gay. so let's go through the several differences between these two dynamics, because it's actually in byler's favor

first of all, percy and nico have a four year age gap. when they meet in book 3 nico is 10 and percy is 14, so this comparison is automatically garbage. will is literally 2 weeks older than mike. needed to get that out of the way at the beginning lol

aside from that, mike and will are best friends of 7 years when s1 begins. they became best friends on the first day of kindergarten, they are extremely close, they hang out every day. mike's entire arc in s1 is about finding will. we see how he defends will behind his back, how devastated he is when he thinks will is dead, how he clings to the first bit of proof that he may be alive even though no one believes him, how happy he is when will is found. he runs into will's hospital room and lays his head on will's chest. and we all know about s2 byler...

in the first pjo book, we have no idea nico exists, and neither does percy. percy bonds with annabeth (his love interest) for the entire story (as well as every book besides the third because she was kidnapped at the beginning, and percy's sole motivation was to save her. sounds familiar...).

pjo spoilers ahead (its been out for 20 years come on...)

in the third book, nico is absent for the majority of it because percy leaves camp on a quest with bianca, nico's older sister. bianca dies on the quest, and at the very end of the book percy tells him what happened. nico is devastated and blames percy for her death. the few times percy and nico interact in the 4th book, their arc is entirely centered around nico accepting bianca's death and the fact that it wasn't percy's fault. in the final book they briefly team up at the beginning and make peace, and nico fights on the good side in the final battle. percy and annabeth have their first kiss in the 4th book and start dating at the end of the 5th (looooong situationship)

nico doesn't appear in the first book of the sequel series. he does briefly appear at the beginning of the second, and then leaves to go off on his own business. he is absent for basically all of the third book because he was trapped in a jar by a titan (long story). but percy and the others save him at the end. in the fourth nico is a main character for the first time. he's present for the whole story (while percy and annabeth are stuck in tartarus) and heavily involved. this is the book where we find out nico had feelings for percy. nico and another charcter, jason, are attacked by cupid and cupid forces nico to admit that he had a crush on percy, therefore admitting that he is gay, outing himself to jason. then in the fifth and final book, nico narrates about a quarter of the chapters so we get his more insight on his thoughts and feelings. he feels like a mistake for being gay and feels like he'll be alone forever. when he had a crush on percy he viewed him basically as a superhero. percy was an older, stronger, powerful demigod that protected him, and nico idolized him. but at this point in the story nico is essentially over it. near the end of the book, nico teams up with a guy his age named will solace. and there's a scene in nico's last pov chapter after the final battle is over where nico tells percy that he used to have a crush on him, but that he's over it and percy isn't really his type anyway (lmfao). and then nico walks over to will who had been waiting for him, obviously symbolizing him moving on from percy and choosing will. and in the trials of apollo series we find out that nico and will are dating. (solangelo my bookies<333)

how is this in ANY way shape or form similar to byler??

percy and nico do not have the depth and backstory that mike and will do. percy does not give nico a tearful monologue about how asking nico to be his friend when they were children is the best decision he's ever made. percy and nico do not agree to go crazy together. percy does not tell nico that home isn't the same without him. percy doesn't emphasize that they are just friends. nico isn't the one to push percy into confessing his love to annabeth. nico and percy don't spend every single book attached at the hip. percy doesn't choose to stand with nico instead of following annabeth when the world is ending. percy and nico barely bond at all. their relationship is complicated. they are borderline enemies in the 4th and 5th books (the hate is one sided, but nico has also yet to earn percy's trust), but they become allies and friends in the end.

percy and nico are a good example of a character's feelings for another solely being a tool to reveal their sexuality. byler would be an awful attempt at that. there is unnecessary depth and development. mike and will's bond is a plot point every single season, which would be pointless if they don't end up together. nico had a crush on percy. a crush. it is only every referred to as a crush. will is in love with mike. deeply, devastatingly in love, and always will be. percy was not the only person capable of making nico not feel like a mistake. nico never said he needs percy. nico never says that he's lost without percy.

IF I EVER HEAR P*RNICO EQUATED TO BYLER AGAIN I WILL DRINK BLEACH ON INSTAGRAM LIVE FOR EVERYONE TO SEE AND I MEAN IT. miss me with that bullshit

[hufflepuffsthunderdome]

Bikini Bottom

Schlatt x Fem!reader Summary: Reader is anxious about the scars on her legs, and struggles with wearing a bikini to the pool. Schlatt just wants to reassure them and remind them how beautiful he thinks they are. Content: she/her pronouns, fluff, angst w/ comfort, panic attacks, self criticism, body image issues, scars, allusions to self-harm or injuries (nothing specific), kissing A/N: This was based on this request from the lovely @imgayandvoreethatsall it was such a cute request I got a little bit carried away writing it so it is loooonggg.

You feel your lip wabble as you eye yourself in the mirror, tilting your head to the side as you take in your reflection staring back at you. Mocking you. It was a scorching week in LA and everyone was making use of the pool that came with the Airbnb you were staying at, as they had been everyday the temperature had hit anywhere near 80 degrees.

It was a gorgeous pool, with a huge patio, deck chairs, glass fencing overlooking the LA hills, one of those stupid waterfall things that all the rich people had. You'd been spending most of your week feeling shit, despite the gorgeous background, lounging on a deck chair in your t-shirt and shorts, trying to keep your eyes glued to the pages of the book you were reading. Every now and again though, you'd look up and just eye your friends having fun in the pool. The chuckle boys were here, filming some stuff, Tucker, his wife, Ted, his girlfriend, Schlatt and a number of other mutual friends they had invited to hang out, including you.

You couldn't help the jealousy in your eyes as you looked at all your friends as they seemed to glide around the pool without a care in the world. It wasn't their fault, you loved them dearly, but it's true when they say there's a certain type of person in LA. Tall, slim, tanned, stunning. You'd watch your girlfriends as they'd sit next to the pool, their long, slim, smooth legs danging in the water, their bleach blonde hair tossed back as they laughed, sun shining off their pearly white teeth. God it made you feel ill.

You had gotten out of it all originally, when the pool talk came up, "oh I don't have a swim suite," you had told Ted, cringing at the disappointment on the faces of your friends as you shrugged softly, "I'll come sit out there though."

But as the temperature kept ticking up, your friends kept asking, and by god did you wanna use the pool. So you bit the bullet, fucking chewed and swallowed that thing more like, and went out and bought a bikini.

It was cute, you had to admit to yourself as you look at yourself in the mirror, and if it was anything else you'd be fawning over yourself in it. It was some ruffly thing that hugged your chest great, high waisted bottoms cupping your ass and stopping just below your belly button. As cute as it was it did nothing to cover your legs.

You feel the tears well up in your eyes as you look down at them, sucking your lip between your teeth to stop the flood gate from opening. Long scars litter the sides of your upper leg, some red, some pink, some white, staring up at you mockingly. It 's embarrassing, walking around with these stupid lines on your legs. While everyone else is model esque perfect, you're covered in the permanent reminder of your past. Of pain and suffering that taunt you, knowing you've missed that chance at perfection.

A soft knock at the door startles you away from the mirror as it creaks open the tiniest bit at your silence. "Y/N?" you hear Schlatt say, his accent thick on his tongue as his tone is soft and gentle, "you ok?"

You hum, as you quickly scramble for your shorts, pulling on the board shorts over your legs as you open the door, plastering on a smile as you look up at Schlatt, "hey, I'm good yeah."

He laughs as he moves out of the way, letting you step out of the room, "I thought you got lost in the bed sheets."

You laugh softly as you walk with him out to the pool, tugging on your shorts when you feel them ride up the tiniest bit, "I was just hyping myself up." you admit softly as you feel your face warm up at your confession.

"For what?"

“You know,” you say as you motion down to your bikini, stomach tensing when you feel his eyes trail down your body. Schlatt next to you swallows thickly as he looks over your body, admiring the way the bikini top hugs your chest, the way the shorts hang off your hips so enticingly.

“You coming swimming?” he asks, as he snaps his eyes back up to your face, furrowing his brow at the anxiety on your face. Your small nod is all he needs before a grin is breaking out on his face and he's hoisting you up into his arms the second your feet hit the outdoor patio. You squeal in delight as you thrash around in his arms, his gaze loving as he beams up at you as you squirm. “Look who I dragged out,” he calls out excitedly as your friends cheer, ignoring your shrieks of protest as he strides over to the pool, howling with laughter as he unceremoniously drops you into the water.

Everyone's calmed down a bit as the afternoon wears on, lounging in or around the pool as they chat happily. You're standing over with Schlatt and your friend Amy as you all chat, your body pressed up next to Schlatt as you lean against the wall.

"I wanna get a photo," Sophie, a girl you don't know super well says excitedly as she stands up from her towel. Some people excitedly shuffles over to the fence of the property, overlooking the hills, Amy grinning down at you when she pulls herself out of the pool, "you coming?"

You hesitate as you look at her outstretched hand, going to reach out for her to help you out before Sophie's valley girl voice cuts you off, "maybe the next one Y/N? Like we love a 2000s chic board short look but... this one's for the 'gram," she says as she stares at her phone, not even looking up at you, "you know how it is."

A tense silence falls over the pool as your friends stare at Sophie in shock, a few people you don't know super well humming in agreement, as you let Amy pull you out of the pool none the less. You look at Amy to see the shock already on her face, turning to meet Schlatt's eyes and see the anger burning behind his iris.

"Fine," you mumble as you push the shorts down your legs, taking a deep breath as you push yourself forward and walk over to where the girls are lining up, "am i 'gram ready now?" you say, sickly sweet as Amy laughs next to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder.

Schlatt stares in awe at your confidence, as much as he can tell you're putting it on. He loves seeing you like this, unwilling to take anyone's shit, it's hot in a way he's not brave enough to admit out loud. He lets out a low whistle as he moves over to the other wall, closer to where you're all waiting to take the photo, "yeah Y/N," he says as he claps, smiling to himself as he watches you blush and turn your head into Amy's neck to whisper something to her. He wolf whistles at you while you take the photo, not so subtly hyping you up as he admires you, watching as you laugh at his antics and cling to Amy as Tucker snaps pictures of all of you.

"That was incredible," he says, a proud grin plastered on his face when you get back in the pool, "you've got the biggest balls of anyone here, shutting her up like that.”

That makes you throw your head back and laugh as you sink back into the pool next to him, placing a hand on his bicep to help you in, "thanks for hyping me up."

"You don't have to thank me," he says sweetly as he takes a gently hold of your waist and helps you in, "that's what I'm here for."

Sophie didn't even end up posting the photos, you think she got her ego hurt a bit by everyone teasing her about her 'gram for the rest of the afternoon. But Amy did, and you couldn't stop tearing over them.

They were cute photos, some of the group, some of just the two of you she had taken, but god you couldn’t stop looking at your legs. You should've put your shorts back on, Amy wouldn't have mind. you should’ve asked her even to edit them, she would’ve said yes, but you couldn’t face the embarrassment. Instead, you just sat here, feet danging in the water as you zoomed in on yourself, not even daring to open the comments.

"Hey," you hear Schlatt's voice say as he approaches you from the house, hand coming over your shoulder to hand you a bottle of something that you take eagerly. He smiles down at you as he sits down, rather ungracefully next to you, legs joining yours in the water with a splash, "you alright?"

That's something you always admired about Schlatt, his ability to turn it off and just be with you when you needed it. He was undeniably loud and in your face when he wanted to be, but he had this ability of reading the room like no one you've ever met before, knowing when you needed someone to just sit and talk. You look up at him and nod as you sip your drink, turning to look back at your phone next to you.

"What's wrong?"

You let out an annoyed groan as you lay back on the tiles behind you, unlocking and handing him your phone. There's no point hiding it from him, he has a way of reading you, you might as well just show him.

He scrolls across the pictures Amy posted, smiling to himself when he sees the one of you with her, tilting your head back and laughing, "what's wrong with these? They're cute."

"Cute?!" you say as you look up at him wide eyed, "omg cute?! Look at my legs," you groan, "ugh it makes me wanna puke."

"Your legs?" he asks as he glances at you, face scrunched up in confusion before he looks back at the phone, "what's wrong with your - oh," he says as his eyebrows raise when he notices what you're talking about.

"Oh god it's so bad isn't it?"

"What? No, no I didn't mean it like that," he says as he zooms in on your legs, taking in the sight of the scars littering them that he's never really taken note of before. He's seen them sure, but he's always been too focused on the soft curves of your thighs to ever really notice.

You're both silent for a while before he speaks, "is this why you haven't been swimming with us?" You just nod as you take the phone back from his hands, zooming in on yourself again as you sigh.

He glances down at you next to him as he takes in your sad expression, feeling his heart ache as he watches your slumped figure stare intently at your phone, "you have an even bigger dick than I thought then for earlier."

You laugh softly as you roll your eyes, looking up at him as you nudge him, sitting up again. "But seriously," he continues, "I'm proud of you," he says as he looks down at you, taking in the way your face is lit up in the dim blue light of the pool.

"Really?" you whisper back, leaning into his side the tiniest bit as you seek out his warmth.

"It's not easy, putting yourself on display," he says as his eyes flick down to your legs for the tiniest second before meeting your face again, hand twitching at his side as he fights the urge to reach out and touch you, "especially when you're worried about something like that."

You nod silently as you fully lean into his side now, resting your head against his arm as the two of you enjoy each other's presence. It feels nice, to feel seen like this, to have someone who notices you, faults and all, and is here anyway.

"When I started gaining weight, it took me ages before I was willing to swim without a shirt on again," he admits as he snakes an arm around to rest on the tile next to your hip.

"Really?!" you ask as you look up at him, turning slightly to rest your chin on his arm as you watch him stare down at the water.

"Oh yeah, like so long," he nods as he moves his legs in the water, watching the way it ripples around his movement, "I was just convinced that everyone would be staring at me the entire time," he shrugs, "and like, sometimes people do you know? I'm not gonna lie... but most people didn't even think twice about it. And if they did they didn't care."

"Do you think anyone noticed my legs today?" you ask as you pull away, looking up at him pensively as you think back on the day. It's hard to remember if the burning of people's gazes on your body was real or just your anxiety convincing you it was.

"Honestly?" he asks softly and you nod, "probably not. Like not in a bad way, just like, I don't think most of our friends really pay attention to that sort of shit."

There's a moment of silence before he's laughing as he looks down at you, "I know I for one was more focused on these puppies," he says as he dramatically and blatantly staring at your chest, "awooga," he says as he hangs his tongue out and dramatically pants.

"I hate you," you say as you fall apart laughing, pushing him away from you and watching him dramatically fall into the pool.

"Don't look so hot and we won't have a problem," he laughs when he comes up to the surface, laying on his back and flailing a bit as he attempts to float.

"You're so unbuoyant?" you question as you stare at him confused, howling in laughter as he flails around.

"Oh yeah like you can do any better," he says as he faux glares at you, fighting the smile creeping onto his lips at the sound of you laughing.

You bite your lip as you smile giddily, pressing your hands against the edge of the pool and slipping into the cool water as you feel it envelope you, "I'm a goddamn pool floatie, I'll have you know."

You lay back in the water, and let yourself float, the rhythmic pattern of the pool jets whirling through the water as it surrounds you, calming you. Your breathing sounds impossibly loud as you take long and deep breaths, but you open your eyes to find the night sky staring back at you. It's not often you see starts in LA, but the few twinkling in the night right now ground you. It's just you, Schlatt and the sky right now, the way you like it.

You flip back over and dunk under the water, pushing your hair back out of your face as you swim up and smile up at Schlatt, "told you so," you tease, but find him already staring at you.

He's looking at you, lips parted slightly as he leans against the wall of the pool, arms resting on the side as his eyebrows raise when you meet his gaze. It makes your heart stutter as you swim closer to him. His tongue swipes across his lower lip as you approach, hands coming to rest by his side as he looks down at you, sinking down into the water so he's closer to you.

"I'm glad you came in with me," he whispers as he smiles softly down at you, almost nervous to break the silence in the air, "I know it's not easy," he takes a deep breath as he gently brings a hand down to touch your waist, "you look amazing though."

You let out a dismissive scoff and shake your head, turning to look off into the distance as you feels Schlatt's eyes stay locked on yours, "thanks," you whisper softly, not really believing it yourself.

You feel his large hand, surprisingly delicate, take a hold of your chin gently and turn your head to look back at him. His eyes stare down at you, soft and loving as you feel the warmth rush to your face as you gaze up at him, "I mean it, you're so beautiful."

He leans in closer, just a tiny bit, but it's enough to make the water ripple around you. His hand moves from your chin to cup your cheek gently, other hand moving under the water to hover over your outer thigh. You feel the water move and you let out a shaky breath, as you bring your hand down to touch his, gently pressing it into your skin. His large hand lays delicately on your thigh for a second, before pressing into the skin ever so slightly as his thumb rubs along your cheek, "you're the most stunning person I've ever seen."

The way he says it, so soft, so earnest, filled with love and unspoken words, makes you let out a shaky breathe you didn't realise you were holding as you move in closer to him. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean into his hand, basking in the feeling of his warmth, his hands on your thigh, soft breath hitting your lips.

You're so caught up in the feeling of each other that you hadn't even noticed the door slide open, or the sound of wet footsteps running towards the pool until a tidal wave of water wallops you and Schlatt as Tucker and Ted laugh manically when they resurface.

"Ever the good timing fellas," Schlatt mumbles, apologetic eyes drifting to you when you swim away from him.

You had made your escape the night before, clambing out of the pool into the dark, where you could secure a towel around you and bask in your safety under it's cover and sinking into the group inside to chat happily with your friends.

Now however, as the sun rose over the horizon, you found yourself looking over your body the same as yesterday. The scars on your thighs stuck out to you like a sore thumb, but you felt better today, more confident. No one would notice and if they did, they wouldn't care, you told yourself. At least Schlatt wouldn't care, he had your back.

"Here she is," Amy squeals excitedly from where she's lounging in the pool when she sees you coming, flopping off the floatie with an excited giggle as she pushes her sunnies up her face.

"And looking fucking fine as hell I might add," Schlatt says with a grin on his face as he walks out of the house behind you, just loud enough for you to hear, bottles of beer in his hand. You roll your eyes and scrunch up your nose as you steal a beer from his hand, walking over to join your friends in the pool.

The day goes on, the sun beaming down on everyone, and you find for the first time in a long while, you're able to forget about your body. Forget about the way you look and the things you hate about it and just exist. It's not perfect, but it's a start.

Schlatt watches from the window in the kitchen of the airbnb as you play with some beach ball someone found, passing it around to people as you grin happily. He just stares, beers he came in to get getting warm on the counter as he just stands there and watches you enjoy yourself. You look angelic; sunkissed and carefree, something he hasn't seen from you in a long time.

"You'll burn a hole through her head if you keep staring," Ted laughs as he walks into the kitchen behind Schlatt, putting the beers he got out back in the fridge and grabbing cool ones instead.

“Can you blame me man,” he says, not even trying to deny that he was staring, he's played this coy denial game when Ted's asked about his feelings for you for too long to care anymore, "she looks great in that bikini."

“That's what's making you act so clingy?” Ted asks as he stands next to Schlatt, taking a sip of his beer as he hands one to Schlatt. Schlatt just nods, watching the way you move as you jump up in the water to grab the beach ball.

Ted lets out a whistle as he watches too, "I can't blame you dude," he says as he takes a gulp of his drink and dodging away from the friendly punch he knows is coming, "she is pretty hot."

More people had trickled into the Airbnb for the rest of the afternoon, as the sun slowly began to set. People you didn't really recognise, friend of a friend kinda people that were just so LA, as Schlatt had said after escaping a conversation with some surfer looking dude and retreating back to your group.

Ted and Amy had been bouncing around the new people who've rocked up, you're not sure if they're their friends or if they're both just social like that, but you, Schlatt and Tucker had retreated to your safe little corner of the pool, to just chat happily.

“Come on you lot,” Ted says as he comes around the pool to your corner, “stop being antisocial.” He whisks you all over to a large group that has formed around a tiny, shitty little fire pit, where chairs had been pulled over to form little groups.

“Some fire,” Tucker scoffs as Ted forces you all to sit down next to him, with a few other people who are chatting to each other.

“The whole city will burn down if you even think of anything bigger,” you laugh as you eye the tiny fire pit, the light from it casting you in a warm glow as you feel the water on you begin to dry in it's slight heat.

Seeming to notice your precence suddenly, the rest of your new little groups introduces themselves and begin to join you in on their conversation. They're talking about some movie they worked on recently that Ted is fascinated by, and you smile and nod along to as you listen to their stories.

They're a very sweet group, you get to know them for a while as they chat, but they're not the most tactful. They had said some weird things already, that you can tell weren't meant to be mean, but just weren't thought through before they slipped out. Something about Tucker being a bad guy for joining the military, and Schlatt's accent making him sound uneducated or some shit. Stupid stuff that the guys shrugged off.

Something you couldn't shrug off though, were the looks they kept giving you. The not so subtle glances you'd catch when they'd look at you, eyes blatantly drifting down to your legs everytime you'd talk. Unlike yesterday, you couldn’t convince yourself this was in your head. This was happening right in front of you, obviously and without shame.

They kept doing it, just openly staring at the scars up your thighs whenever you talked, as if you were nothing more than a spectical to gawk at. You weren't sure if they were even listening, or if they only pretended they were so they could get another look to judge you.

You knew what would happen, the second you all left they'd start whispering, what happened to her? How did she get those scars? Just sitting there like that, out in the open?

You couldn't breathe proeprly, your chest getting tighter everytime you felt their eyes burning into your skin. Each time they'd turn to look at you it felt hotter and closer, as if they were silently telling more poeple to look. To turn and stare at the freak, to point and laugh at your scars. God it was so embarrassing. You felt disgusting.

"I'll be back," you blurt suddenly, interupting Tucker as you stand up, knocking your chair over in the process as you fumble to pick it up, throat feeling tight when more people look over at the comotion. You push your way through the group and book it into the house, finding the first room you can, luckily a bathroom and locking the door behind you.

You tear a towel off the hanger and wrap it around your waist to save yourself having to look at your scars anymore, hands shaking as you attempt to secure it. You grip the counter as much as you can as you double over, heaving chest attempting to breathe as you stare down at the sink, gasping. Your head feels like it's spinning, eyes struggling to focus on anything as you look up at the ceiling, panting and weezing as you try to calm yourself down.

The door handle jiggles and you choke back a gasp as you try to stay silent, short shallow gasps escaping your lips as you try not to choke. It jiggles again and you manage to cough out, "occupied."

“It's me,” Schlatt's concerned voice comes from the other side, "can I come in?”

You let our a choked breath as you reach blindly for the door, unlocking it and stepping back against the wall as Schlatt pushes the door open and steps inside, shutting it behind him.

You stare up at the ceiling, throat tightening more as you feel his concerned eyes on you, heaving to bring in a breath as you refuse to look at him. It's a heartbreaking sight, to watch you like this, watch your face scrunch up in pain as you struggle to breath. He reaches out a hand gently, hovering it just over your shoulder, "can I touch you?"

You nod urgently as you finally lower your gaze to look at him, sputtering as you feel the spit pool in your mouth as you cough and choke, doubling over as you try to calm yourself down.

"You're ok," he says softly, watching you with concerned eyes as he slowly lowers you to the ground, which you happily oblige, going to pull your knees up to your chest to sooth yourself before he stops you, "sit up straight if you can."

You follow his soft instructions as your brain throbs, hazy from the lack of oxygen you're taking in. You preen at his soft praise, "that's perfect, now breathe with me ok."

His voice shakes with nerves as he watches you struggle, hands gripping your shoulders firmly as he keeps his face infront of your eyes, taking a deep breath in and nodding as you attempt to follow. "Perfect, that's perfect."

He sits with you for a while, breathing with you through the panic attack until you can breathe on your own. He feels his own breathing return to normal when you slump your head back against the wall, eyes shutting from exhaustion as your chest begins to rise and fall in a steady pattern.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks, looking at you with furrowed brows as he keeps his arms firmly on your shoulders. He doesn't wanna push you to talk if you're not ready, but he desperately wants to know what happened to make you feel this way.

"They were staring," you say, voice barely above a whisper as your face scrunches up as the painful burn of their gazes return to your skin.

His face morphs to one of realisation as he glances down at the towel around your waist, heart aching at the pain across your face, "shit, Y/N," he whispers as he pulls you into a tight hug. His strong arms wrap firmly around you, bringing you closely into his chest as he buries his face in your hair, rubbing your back when he feels you exhale a shaky breath into his chest. He just wants to keep you here, in his arms, where he can make sure you know how perfect you are.

"I know it won't help with how shit it feels," he whispers into your hair, "but seriously fuck them," he presses a gentle kiss to your head as he asks, "was it that lot we were sitting with?"

You just nod as you burry you head further into his chest, trying to escape the world. His arms tighten again around you and you feel your heartbeat in your ears as he holds you firmly against him. You barley make out what he says over the static in your brain as you melt against him, something about their personalities being faker than their teeth.

"At least you're fucking real," he says as he pulls away slightly, keeping his arms tight around your waist, "real and strong... and fucking perfect."

His words warm you up from the inside as you gaze up at him, sucking your lip between your teeth as your stomach flutters. You are real, and so is he. Right now, the feeling of his arms firmly around your waist is more real and more important to you than anything else outside this bathroom.

He watches you, eyes drifting down to your teeth as they chew in your lip, his thumb coming up to gently tug it free. Running the pad of his thumb across the smooth, soft skin of your lip he can't help the way his lips part, the way his breathing gets heavier as he takes in the sight of you, "so perfect," he whispers again as he leans in.

His thumb moves from your lips and is replaced with the soft warmth of his lips against yours, gently ghosting over yours, giving you a chance to pull away.

You pull your arms free from where they're sandwiched between you two and wrap them around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You push your lips firmer against his, melting into the kiss as you push yourself against his.

Schlatt lets out a breath into your mouth he didn't realise he was holding, your lips moving against his as he poured all his love and devotion into the kiss. He wanted you to feel beautiful. To feel safe. To feel loved. He pulled you closer again, flush against his chest, sure you could feel his heart beat against yours as your lips moved in tandem. He felt the spark that everyone talks about, that spark that he always thought was some sappy shit, but right now feels so real.

You lift yourself onto your knees, kneeling with him so you're closer to his height, lips staying locked together. He was warm, and gentle, taking his time to move his lips against yours in a way that reminded you that he was here for you, nothing else. Just you, as you are. The towel shifts from your waist and drops down your legs a bit, leaving you in your bikini and him in his shorts, warm skin pressed against each other. His hand comes down to lay gently against your thigh, soft and gentle against the scars there, and you don't move, you don't flinch or shy away, instead, you lean into him more.

He pulls away panting softly, his hold firm and loving on you as he whispers against your lips, "you're so perfect."

For the first time in a long time you believe it.

[utilitycaster]

A couple things before I do this as I said I would here

I’ve decided it’s more effective in the long term to bring up a handful of people than everyone who’s ever been obnoxious, mostly to maintain ongoing leverage, ie, maybe if people leave me alone they can get away with their lower-key shitty behavior, and if people don’t, then they won’t.

Do not harass nor send hate to the people I've mentioned; take the high ground. Blocking, vagueing and openly going “what the fuck is wrong with that guy (gn)” however is chill, but I won’t be taking anons personally that are pile-ons on these people because that is not the point of this exercise.

Similarly I just delete anon hate or post it if I have a funny enough response for it but it won’t elicit this kind of thing for various reasons I don’t care to get into right now.

If my good opinion is important to you, really, the quickest way to lose it is to treat me expressing my own opinions on my blog as a personal attack on you. I wasn’t specifically judging you until you decided I was; now, I will ruin your day or week and I won’t feel sorry.

Now, I’m going to be honest. The reason I haven’t done this earlier despite the shit I and many others have waded through all campaign is that the vast majority of people who engage in harassment, hate, or “how dare you exist and have opinions that aren’t mine, don’t you know the world revolves around me” will then immediately make a post like this, such as the loser who led to this: (rest below the cut)

source

To be clear I do hope they get whatever presumably important medical procedure this is and I too am in opposition to transphobia on an active political level, however, if you take your own shit out on me, a random woman on the internet, I will continue to fight for what I believe to be your fundamental human rights like gender expression and healthcare but there is no right you have that prevents me from calling you a stupid thin-skinned loser and that I feel sorry for anyone who has the misfortune to love you as I suspect you’re incapable of truly returning it, and also your blorbo still sucks. This has been: if you attempt to treat me even slightly like your punching bag, I punch back.

With that in mind let’s go to the people I’m talking about today. If you're not into this, skip the cut.

I think it goes without saying that warrior/inrecovery was an embarrassing blight on this fandom and imo/dna shippers’ steadfast laxity in taking out the trash is yet another reason why this ship ain’t it chief. I’m posting all of the aliases under which they attacked me and others, but they flamed out during the Laudna addiction metaphor and hopefully got help, though as you can see their blog for the past like, decade, is them attacking people over femslash ships, so idk if it’s gonna stick, pals. Anyway, they have a distinctive style so hopefully if they ever rear their ugly head again I’ll be able to get and post an IP address. I did have some suspicions about Tulsa OK but they are not sufficiently founded. Anyway: you can also find them under tlb/wc (they use that one to make death threats); thatguy/10592; clearcowboy/angel; screechingalpha/nightmare; and holysoul/enthusiast, all of which are still up and have the evidence as of posting

Honorable mention to the person who called me a hypocrite for checks notes liking callowmoore more than Imo/dna (series of asks from November 11th, 2023 in which they harassed not just me but many people who had simply interacted with my posts). I have my suspicions as to who it was [noted tar pit from Westphalia, Germany absintheheartbeat, who I also think sent this Dorym ask] but as I have no proof that’s really all there is. While we’re talking about generic tar pits disconnectedkat is a discourse blog that is just generally a piece of shit and is one of those people who clutches pearls about HOW DARE YOU TRY TO WIN AT FANDOM WITH LEFTIST CAUSES ignoring the big elephant in the room of “countless C3 fans lecturing incompetently about this being a revolutionary anticolonialist narrative and how we’re just status quo loving conservatives and then crying when we point out that they are being shitty in real life.” If you are one of those people reading this and finding yourself getting huffy, do take a look at the people mentioned throughout this and ask yourself: are you okay with them? Because if so, then your issue isn’t “it’s mean to call people stupid and attack them on a moral basis”; your issue is “it’s mean to call me stupid”, and you are part of the problem, and, moreover, I am in your walls.

Theshepardshuffle deactivated but I do want to point them out here just to note that I have in fact suffered more than Job and been more steadfast than any US Marine at the hands of imo/dna shippers for the sin of saying “this ship isn’t very good.” I’d also want to point out that they are why I started checking on people I’ve blocked. See, this is a side blog, so if you block me I cannot interact with you, but I can still see you, and our buddy shep joined tumblr, blocked me, and then posted discourse about me constantly not realizing I could literally see it (and to be clear. I know people I have blocked can see this. I hope they do.)

Anyway, the main event: let’s talk about noted racist idiot hecate astralley/wright (main blog bone/heat), to my knowledge a white American cultural Christian, seen here (archive link if they delete it) mocking someone who found Bells Hells’ behavior justifyingly reminiscent of a conquering colonialist army as their family experienced, and horrifying for it (note: this mention is made with everypigeondeserveslove’s knowledge and permission; they are well aware of this bullshit). Hecate decided it was a good time to be a truly unfeeling piece of shit about this in the service of checks notes convincing people that Bells Hells was an anticolonialist narrative. They did, to be fair, just start reading Wretched of the Earth, so they do know who they’re talking over. I mean about. They also accused me of, when I pointed out this article’s discussion of history and whether it was written by the victors, Godwin’s law, which is not really what that means (saying ‘this phrase has its origins in a lot of hateful groups who used it to evade their responsibility in historical events, and also even if history is written by the victors, that doesn’t mean every alternate viewpoint is automatically wrong’ is simply factual), then turned around and claimed, in a truly stunningly insolent case of putting words in someone’s mouths, that criticism of Imogen and Laudna on the basis of their unkind actions was akin to calling them degenerates (archive)to the point that people were confused. This is an ongoing pattern with that circle; you’ll see it with cringefae/compilation too of just. Making shit up. 

What you need to know about them is in the end they’re mostly just a hypocrite and a loser. They’re really into 9/11 jokes, which to be clear I’m not personally squeamish about, but I also don’t go around screaming about how cruel the fandom is to Aeor, a city that is entirely pretend, while joking about real-life civilian deaths. Absolutely terminal case of caring more about pretend people than real ones. As for the idiot part, interesting to claim at one point that Orym would be saved by the Wild Mother and should, and this is a direct quote from someone who, again, is only now reading the first book listed the “Notable Theoreticians And Theories” list on the Postcolonialism wikipedia page, that he should “read theory” and then claim to have Gotten It From Hearthdell after spending much of the intervening time, as discussed, arguing for the deaths of the gods. In fact, I recommend looking back through their blog in depth for a combination of tiktok-brained politics, an utter lack of empathy, and Consistently Getting It Wrong And Lying And Pretending They Didn’t. 

Second person is cringefae/compilation. When they’re not throwing tantrums interspersed with gifs of the pink My Little Pony, or throwing different tantrums about Kipperlily Copperkettle, or throwing different tantrums about Essek and Verin Thelyss existing within the narrative, you can find them throwing tantrums about how everyone but them is a bigot, often in the main tag. This has been commented on by the general fandom, and it is notable that even others in their circle often won’t touch their vent posts (also many of said posts directly attack others in their circle, which is funny to me). Now I’ll just keep it very basic: I think what’s going on is that cringefae does not think they are a very good person, deep down, but is trying to project an image of being a very good person, and so they have decided that people in the fandom, of which I was public enemy number one before they seemingly discovered the native text block function, are the Real Bad People, and don’t seem to have the ability to process. Now the thing about cringefae is that if you dislike a character OR like but would enjoy them experiencing some fictional horrors and that character is not Essek Thelyss; the Briarwoods; a character I personally like such as Fjord when they are on the warpath (they actually seem to personally really like Fjord and I think high key hate that I like him because they have basically no consistent identity other than contrarianism; they do not seem to like anything, really, other than possibly the pink My Little Pony); or a white cis straight man that they do not headcanon as not that, then they will call you a bigot. Now: you may notice, with a quick perusal of their blog, that they believe Ludinus Da’leth to be a racist who started a race war, which would imply Essek Thelyss is nonwhite, but they have definitely argued against this as well, and recently argued both in favor of Ludinus having a redemption arc and also that they don’t believe in zero-effort redemption arcs, because again, there is zero logical coherence other than attacking people they don’t like for whatever reason. I don’t even have links; just scroll down their blog for a few minutes and you’ll get the vibe (bad). They too have a tendency to make up a guy and get mad at that guy (and have to clarify they're just making shit up in the notes); possibly to assume the worst of the fandom in order to feel better about themself. And whereas I think astralley/wright might know deep down they're attacking real people to defend pretend people and hoping no one will notice and call them on it, cringefae seems to be genuinely too stupid to understand the concept of "it can be interesting for a story to be tragic." They also tend to frequently insult the positions of people in their circle and conflate everything they don't like into one person; again, horse-immorality (deactivated) was one of the loudest "bor'dor is a dog" people and cringefae liked them and now is like IT'S SUPER RACIST TO SAY BOR'DOR WAS A DOG because again, it's not about any position, it's just about finding some arbitrary scapegoat and attacking them so that you can feel righteous, and in doing so, they become a cesspit of a person.

I think the kindest thing you could say about cringefae is that in their incoherence it all kind of cancels out, and absolutely no one really seems to take them seriously. They seem entirely unaware of the concept of crying wolf and how maybe if you say that a woman who checks notes happens to openly prefer the canon art of Jester, Yasha, and Imogen to fan redesigns, canon art that was checks notes designed by women and checks notes drawn by women is a “soft MRA” you might be wildly irresponsible in your accusations to the point of eroding an ability in the fandom to actually point out misogynistic views (also, hanging out with astrall/eywright does kind of fuck your image as caring about the oppressed). It’s accusations as a tool against the people they’ve decided are The Bad Ones. And really that’s the thing. I know we’re all online here, this is explicitly my fandom sideblog and I try to keep it light on politics not because they’re not vitally important but because I do see Tumblr largely as an escape and not as a news source, but I would bet good money this is someone who doesn’t like, do anything other than post. Anyway, just kind of a stream of nonstop constantly shifting incoherent bile worth a block. One of those cases where you're like "have people...just put up with this person in their fandom spaces forever? why? don't fandoms deserve to not have a missing stair like this?"

[rauspberries]

just a friend - s.r.

spencer reid x bau liaison!reader. pt two to still a friend.

summary: you thought love was dead to you, locked away -- until you realized its in all the little things.

tags: afab reader, late seasons reader, mentions of themes present in criminal minds, slight hurt/comfort, fluff, later seasons reid

word count: 2k

notes: part two to still a friend! so much shorter because my brain keeps frying every time i type. not the proudest of it but ohhh well.

hiii @reidswrld

It had been a month since you had gone back to work. One month of countless therapy sessions, one month of reassuring hugs from Penelope and one month of recurring nightmares and panic attacks, much to your dismay.

You thought it would go away with time. That speaking about your experience with friends and a licensed therapist would help release you from the burden your subconscious loved to carry. You wished that you could lock it in a cage, push it to the back of your mind like many members of the BAU had done with their own trauma, but you couldn’t. You had always been too emotional.

Your job required you to look at cases similar to yours on a daily basis. Abductions, tortures, murders, a few done at the hands of spouses, partners. Every time you saw a photo of a victim strapped to a chair, you were reminded of that dreaded night in your kitchen, gun to your head and dread sitting deep in your gut.

While things had surely gotten better, you weren’t at your best. You pasted on a smile at work, fluttering around the desks in the bullpen and trying to hide your feelings from the gaggle of highly-proficient profilers. For the most part, it worked. Despite you knowing that they could see right through your charade, they tended to dial back the amount of concern they showed for it.

Except for Spencer.

Ever since you had finally pulled yourself off of his couch and into a new apartment, he had been watching you like a hawk, and you didn’t mind it. His company had become just as soothing as a warm cup of tea. There was a normalcy about the way he cared for you, so hidden and yet so obvious.

Spencer wasn’t the type to do big displays of affection, nor the largest fan of physical touch. While he had his moments, like his warm thigh pressing into yours on the couch or his hand snaking around the back of your neck for a reassuring squeeze, it was obvious that he preferred small acts of service instead.

He hadn’t stopped giving you annotated books. All of them sat on their own shelf in your new apartment, a shelf he had helped you pick out, carry inside and build. He had insisted on organizing them in some type of order, like alphabetical order or by author, but you refused. You kept them on the shelf in the order you received them. It was like a time capsule, looking at the notes he used to write in the margins and how much more personalized they had become over the weeks you two had spent growing closer.

There were also other things. The vase in your kitchen always had a fresh bouquet of brightly-colored flowers in it, usually centered around your favorite color. He called you at night when he knew you were attempting to sleep, knowing you’d struggle to succumb to your exhaustion, fearing the worst. He had never been a fan of movies that didn’t provoke some type of intellectual discussion, yet watched all of your rom-coms with a furrowed brow and a focused pout of his lips. When you had been particularly upset one day, he had taken you to the nearby animal shelter, watching with a ghost of a smile as you giggled at a puppy licking your face.

For him, it had always been about your happiness. For a while, you thought he was just being friendly. Other than the regulating kiss he had placed on your lips on his couch, Spencer had never shown any interest in pushing you any further, only interested in your well-being and the state of your mental health.

For a while, you would admit that he was right to do so. Calling off dating for years, finally dating just to find out he’s a murderer and then calling off dating due to your trauma was a valid reason to not consider your best friend a viable option for a relationship. But it was hard to ignore his care, his tenderness. The things he said without actually saying them. It wasn’t a question on if Spencer liked you back — the question was when either of you would feel brave enough to act on it.

One night, you slept on his couch. You had spent the evening watching all of the romance movies that made you cry until it exhausted you. Spencer had laughed at your extremely empathetic reactions, causing you to laugh until your stomach hurt, shoving at his shoulder with whiny pleas for him to stop.

Half-conscious yet leaning towards sleep, you recall where you are. Your arm aches slightly from laying on it, a strand of your hair tickles your cheek from where it’s trapped against the pillow, the pant leg of your pajamas is pulled up to the middle of your calf. You’re on Spencer’s couch. You’re safe.

That is until you hear the click of a gun, the cool feeling of metal on your forehead.

You gasp so hard you choke on air as you sit up, blinking rapidly as your heart thuds against your chest. You cough at the sudden intake of oxygen as you look around, taking in your surroundings. Spencer’s apartment. Green walls, dark wood, deadbolt on the door. You’re safe, you’re okay. 

“Hey.” A soft, raspy voice comes from near the foot of the couch. You look up to see Spencer, standing in the doorway of his bedroom with the collar of his t-shirt askew and his long curls a mess atop his head. It’s obvious you’ve woken him, especially with the way the heel of his hand automatically rubs at his eye. “Nightmare?”

You shake your head, guilt eating at you for disturbing him. “No, Spence. Just coughing. Go back to sleep, it’s okay,” you insist, not wanting to be a bother. With your jobs, a full night’s rest was a luxury - you didn’t want to take that from him.

Despite your dismissal, he steps closer, looming over the back of the couch as he looks at you. “You’re cold.” He notices, eyes focused on the slight tremor of your bottom lip and the way your fingers clutched at the thin blanket covering your lap.

Nose wrinkling, he turns to head towards the front door, grabbing a blanket off of the arm chair a foot away from it. He returns to your side just to drape it over your body, his fingertips brushing your shoulders as he pulls it up to your chin. You open your mouth to protest, but Spencer just shakes his head as he taps at your shoulder. “Sit up,” he instructs gently, voice barely above a murmur.

And, of course, you listen, moving your back off of the arm of the couch and giving him enough room to slide behind you. His long legs stretch on either side of you, caging you in, as his hands find your shoulders, guiding you to lean back against his chest. 

You react without thinking. You’re sinking into him like you’ve never felt the touch of another before, knees pressing into his as you lay your cheek upon his chest, letting yourself be soothed by the soft thudding of his heartbeat. His arm wraps around you tightly, one hand lying upon your ribcage while the other slowly traces your spine. 

“You won’t be comfortable lying like this all night.” You mumble, eyes already fluttering shut as you try to commit the feeling of lying against him to memory. “You’re too lanky for this couch.”

Spencer hums as if considering, shoulders raising in a slight shrug. His eyes aren’t focused on your face at the moment, instead watching his hand as his fingernails drag along your spine, goosebumps following in their wake. “I feel pretty comfortable right now, actually.”

Scrunching your nose, you open your eyes, chin tilting up just to look at him. “Liar,” you tease, the corners of your lips pulling up into a soft, sleepy smile. It had taken a while for a smile to appear on your face again after that night. Spencer never wanted to see it go away.

His focus finally moves from his hand to your face, eyebrows raising. “Would I lie to you?” He questions, the same taunting lilt in his tone.

You press your lips together at that, shaking your head the best you could with just how much you had molded into him. There’s an uncomfortable swirling feeling in your stomach at the way he glances down at you, solidifying the fact that was what happening right now was real. It was both a frightening and reassuring thought. “No. You wouldn’t.”

A hum rumbles in his chest in response. The hand on your back creeps up to the back of your neck, slender fingers threading into your hair as his nails brush soothingly against your scalp. You’re not sure if it's the exhaustion that makes him so suddenly touchy, but you don’t mind it. You’re convinced you could lay here forever, just like this.

“Thank you.” You murmur softly, index finger dragging along his skin from his elbow to his wrist. He doesn’t even twitch, just as relaxed as you are. It made warmth spread through your body like wildfire.

“For what?” He responds immediately, although his tone stays just as quiet and calm, a sleepy murmur to it.

The soft material of his shirt scratches against your cheek as you look up at him again, his eyes diverting to catch your gaze. “Being here. Being so nice to me. I know that’s your nature, but I feel like you’ve gone past the requirements for a supportive friend.” You trail off with an amused smile, although Spencer could see the sincerity in your eyes.

His lips tilt up at the corners in a sleepy smile, hand falling back to the middle of your spine. “No problem at all. I’d do it any time, any reason.” 

Looking up at him, you find yourself trying to memorize everything about him. The soft slant of his nose, the stray curl that stuck out like an antenna from his mussed curls, the wrinkle around his mouth from smiling. They’re all features you have found yourself finding comfort in, even before the last few months. He’d always been there, whether you had noticed it or not. Inviting you to movies you had no interest in seeing, even if you really wanted to, or staying late in the office when you did just to spin around in the chair on the other side of your desk while he babbled.

Subconsciously, you’re leaning into him further. Before you can think about it, your chin is tilting up higher, nose brushing against his tentatively. You can hear his sharp intake of breath, feel the heave of his chest underneath you, but there’s nothing that indicates him pulling back. 

So you go for it.

Slowly but surely, you press your lips against his. It’s meant to be quick, fleeting, however his hand is quick to skirt back up your spine, holding you in place with a hand at the nape of your neck. The kiss stays smooth, steady, almost agonizingly slow. It’s stable – you’re not surprised.

It only lasts for a couple moments before you’re pulling away, not wanting to seem like too much. Immediately, you lay your cheek back against his chest, letting a giddy smile twitch at your lips at the sound of his quickened heartbeat against your ear. “You’ll stay right here tonight?”

“Mhm.” He hums in response, fingernails brushing against your scalp again. “Go to sleep. I’ll be here.”

Usually, you’d question a promise like that. Wonder if it was genuine, if you’d wake up to be disappointed. But now, being lured to sleep without a fear that nightmares would follow you, you don’t have the time to question it. 

Frankly, you don’t want to.

[yanderelovebites]

More isekai batsis because I love it so much.

So mine in particular doesn’t go by Y/n to the bat family since it is an isekai but when she’s by herself she will refer to herself as Y/n. Her Isekai name is Illia Birdges-Wayne.

I didn’t go too deep into the details of Damian’s obsession yet, just vague stuff so that’s what this post more or less is.

I’d like to say that Damian has a somewhat emotional-incest connection to her. He will not get physical as he’s been raised better, but there are signs-blatant signs I’ll add, that if they were not half-siblings he’d try. Once it’s obvious to Damian she understands he legitimately cares for her as I do feel Damian could tell her walls were still up, he’d be over the moon in his own lack of enthusiasm way.

When Damian and her start going to school together, it’s definitely more clear as well. Damian deals with her ‘friends’ at first to be close to her. He doesn’t like them and batsis isn’t truly friends with these ‘friends’ either. Their use is to keep her social standing up and Damian can see it.

While in a lot of fanfics Damian would egg the others on, as do they in turn, I don’t think Damian would exactly agree with any academic manipulation. If anything Damian thinks it’s the stupidest thing in the world because he doesn’t see it as just affecting her. As I’ve mentioned, he sees her friends as to keep a social standing. He sees them not as her friends, but pawns. As far as he’s concerned, her pawns are his too. So it legitimately upsets the little dude. I can just see the family trying to fuck with it and Tim back tracks because Damian put a venomous snake in his computer chair. They fuck off when it came to school after that because who wants to fuck with that.

Also this attempt would be without Bruce’s knowledge. He actually shuts Tim and Dick down on these attempts. Also scolds Damian in his perspective but it literally does nothing in regards of convincing him that his sister’s friends aren’t pawns.

He would tell his mom about her too. He won’t shut up, to the point she jokes about it sounding like he’s telling her his crush rather than a sister, but Damian disregards that statement.

If they were older, Damian is the brother who scared off any boyfriends since he’s always with her in public. If she somehow snuck it behind his back yes he’d be upset, but he would take it out on the partner. Now, Damian doesn’t worship her—even if he sometimes comes off like that.

These two would at some point using Arabic, Japanese, Korean, Irish and mandarin would make a code language that no one else in the house understands. At first Bruce thought it was just Arabic so he learns it and realizes it’s not just Arabic. So he figured out some of it is Japanese and mandarin, but can’t figure out what the other two are. It’s also the fact the two learned all of these, of course some they already knew, just so no one else could understand what the hell they were saying.

And just as he doesn’t want anyone dating her, he also gets offended when guys don’t won’t to. It’s even worse if they have an actual reason that doesn’t involve him. How dare they claim you’re too skinny? Too fat? The list could go on.

I can also imagine once Damian and her are comfortable enough, Damian would help “Illia” train in the martial arts she’s taking since Damian would have been trained in them from a far younger age. One day they come to dinner with bruises and gives everyone a panic attack and they’re like “What’s wrong? Damian was helping me train.” Followed by Damian complimenting an improvement but then going straight into what she needs to improve next.

He’s so damn attached. Sure he cares for the rest of the bat family but she has a different place in his life than them. They’re the people who mentor him, they’re the people he fights crime with—she is who he can go to and just be his age for damn once. They can only teach him how to be a Robin, her? She shows him what a Wayne is. There’s a difference whether they’d like to see it or not.

Next person I’ll get into (and how their obsession evolves) is Bruce. This is in order of who gets obsessive first to last btw.

[typewritingyip]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Twenty Six - Feelings

Part Twenty Five

———

Pilots seem to come from all walks of life, it really depends on how or who recruited them. As the death tolls rose, they started scouring the Earth for compatibility in every place that was reachable by both government agency and private industry. 

Compatibility testing is not standardized across the planet, across agencies, or private companies. 

Those first few years a significant portion of pilots were underage, found more compatible than older people, the youngest pilot back in the start of the program was registered at thirteen years old. After years of regulation, it was made mandatory that pilots must be of the same age to enlist to become a pilot. 

As the number of attacks increased and the number of pilots was rapidly decreasing, many of those regulations were repealed in certain countries; namely the US. 

It is legally viable to become a mech suit pilot as young as fifteen in the United States if they are found compatible. One private company accepts people that young for compatibility testing, while the written test is now given with the selective service paperwork to boys once they turn eighteen. 

The written test is offered with voter registration, but not required. 

—

Archa Three was in a system with two nearby stars, the one the planets actively orbited around and one of an extremely close system. At night the sky would shine with the distant planets and stars, Bluestreak was enjoying the night sky in the quiet. Arm around Sunstreaker’s shoulders, staring at the stars reflecting in the water. 

It had only been a few minutes from when Bluestreak went quiet to Sunstreaker falling asleep, the suit slumping just enough to alert him. Ex-venting slowly, he kept his arm comfortably around Sunstreaker, staring at the horizon.

Until his comm buzzed and he nearly growled. Answering silently, “What?” The bite in his voice would have been enough to scare most people, but the voice on the other side of the comm laughed. 

Though he was still laughing, it took Prowl a moment to clear his voice, “I apologize, I didn’t realize you were so invested with your overnight watch.” Bluestreak’s face burned, “Oh just shut up, fragger.” Prowl chuckled lightly again, shaking his head a bit.

Prowl and Jazz were on the edge of Paraxus, as Jazz had left Iacon sometime during their hectic day, leaving Sideswipe and Breakdown on effective lockdown in the Iacon apartment. Paraxus though the city was still rebuilding from the war it had become a tactical hub at the start of the battles with the Quintessons, realizing it could not and would not remain neutral to destruction again. 

“How is Sunstreaker handling the change in command?” Prowl was keeping his voice down, likely meaning even on internal comm that Jazz was asleep somewhere nearby. Glancing down at the sleeping mech, Bluestreak smiled a bit, “It’s going like you thought it would.” Humming, Prowl fell quiet for a moment.

Bluestreak leaned his cheek against Sunstreaker’s helm, turning up his sensors. Checking the perimeter cameras and sensors with a quick scan, humming then, “He’ll be fine, just has to communicate.” He could almost feel the teasing from the other end of the comm, “That’s why I paired him with you and Ironhide.” Rolling his optics, Blue tucks one servo against Sunny’s side.

“He’s been angry, really angry then so calm. Is that normal or something that’s just Sunny?” Prowl ex-vented slowly, and Blue knew he shifted his weight. One of the mechs few tells, “So, not just Sunny?” Humming again, Prowl shook his helm slowly, “When Jazz went through overuse, it wasn’t this bad. But for him it was fight or die, he couldn’t show who he was. With Sunny and the others, they are out of their suits enough that every time they go back in it’s worse, but this is how they do things on Earth.” Venting shallowly, Blue shifts closer to Sunny, who seemed to move closer and lean more into him.

Looking back out at the ocean, Bluestreak stared, “They're more stubborn than a miner from Tarn.” Prowl’s comm cut out briefly, likely to choke back his own laugher which brought the slightest smile to his face, after a moment Prowl returned, “That is certainly one way of phrasing it, so then, how are things going for your relationship?” It took everything in Blue to not make a sound, gears grinding painfully as he adjusted in his seat.

Prowl just waited, probably wearing his stupid smirk on his faceplates, “It’s fine. Thank you for asking, you slagger.” The chuckle rang through the comm, “These things change and grow, human relationships are different from ours, not horribly so but different enough.” Venting slowly, Prowl stared out the window of the habsuite he was in, Jazz sleeping on his shoulder like Green would, “You have to have meaningful conversation, not just talking at him.” Blue rolled his optics.

The sand was warmed from the suns in this system, but even now away from the heaters it was starting to cool quickly, “We talk.” Prowl hummed, “Sunstreaker is the quietest human I have ever met, versus you.” “Hey!” Trying to hide his grin, Prowl cleared his vocal components briefly, “I am just saying, you two are different. That’s not a bad thing, it just means you both have to have patience.” And Bluestreak’s face burned, glancing down at Sunstreaker. 

Though he could see him, he knew the real Sunny was asleep somewhere safe, tucked inside the suit and away from the toxic and corrosive things this planet seemed to be blanketed in, “Yeah, patient.” He vented before looking back out at the ocean, nodding a bit, “I’ve gotta get back to watch, say hi to Jazz for me.” Prowl glanced over at his own companion who was sound asleep, “I will once he wakes up, keep a vigilant optic Bluestreak.” Bluestreak hummed before disconnecting the comm. 

He checked over the cameras and sensors, nodding a bit before going back to scanning the horizon. The way Sunstreaker reacted to the Quintesson ship was more than instinct, it was personal anger. 

It would be something that they’d have to talk about some cycle, but Blue figured it would be the same one where he explained the so-called inside joke, “Ah, Primus.” he chuckles lightly and shakes his head a bit. 

—

Staying connected to the suit while asleep was not smart or safe, but many pilots had done it before and many would do it after Sunstreaker was gone. It exacerbated overuse symptoms and increased the chances of the crash, but sometimes it was easier than dealing with the after effects of disconnecting.

The suit jolted at the same time Sunstreaker did, still connected even in his sleep, and he was gasping for air. He couldn’t see as his cockpit was shrouded in darkness. 

A hand collided with his chest and he tried desperately to grab it, “No,” his voice was choked, struggling to get air in and out, the hand on his chest shoved him down, “Relax!” Sunny wasn’t familiar with whatever the muffled voice was saying. Finally, he hits the emergency start up for his visual feed. 

Ironhide was over him, pinning him to the sad, practically snarling at him, “Online! Fragging online!” Sunny’s visor brightens just a bit as the rest of his external feeds kick online, sand was spraying all over them, “What the hell?” Ironhide pulls him up and points, “We’ve got company!” He stared for a moment before swearing and online the rest of his suits systems, “Damnit, damnit!” He grabs hold of the controls and adjusts the suit to standing.

The beach was in chaos, it was just shy of morning and there were craters everywhere. It looked so much like the field in Santa Monica. Sunstreaker finally got his head up and stared for a long moment, it was only one ship but it was doing a lot of damage, meaning Sunstreaker had probably pissed them off.

Ironhide still had him by the shoulder and pulls him back behind cover, “When I put you on overnight watch that doesn’t mean give it to Bluestreak so you can recharge!” Hitting the sand again, Sunny groans slightly, “I didn’t mean to fall to sleep! Fuck, alright, just let me handle this.” He slowly rolls and pears over their cover at the ship that was shooting at them. 

He could just see Bluestreak tucked in cover, holding his shoulder with his rifle leaned against his side, “Goddamnit, I can’t even get a decent nights sleep.” With a deep sigh, he adjusts the extension for his bracers before going over the cover and towards the gunfire.

—

Sand was still blowing against his suit and it had been hard to sleep, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Hound had disconnected from the suit for the most part, but kept a screen up with the external feel along with a hold on Mirage’s arm.

He was sitting on the floor, helmet off and eating while watching the outside for the clearing of the storm. Every few minutes Mirage would shift them both and send him tilting the other direction. If he got motion sick, it would make the experience only mildly unpleasant. Right now, he didn’t mind.

The external audio was turned down, mostly wind noise, but some of it was Mirage’s murmurings. Some of it even sounded like praying. Sighing slowly, Hound leaned against the side of his piloting chair, adjusting again as Mirage’s grip shifted again. Grabbing his helmet, he pulls it on before turning on his comm and pinging Mirage.

It took a second for Mirage to answer, “I thought you were asleep.” Hound smiled a bit and leaned his head back against the arm of his chair, “I slept for a bit, but after a while the wind isn’t just white noise anymore.” With a hum, Mirage shifted again, “Are you comfortable?” He chuckled lightly, “Yes Mirage, I’m alright.” Hound sighed slowly. 

The wind was still howling, “How close to sunrise are we?” Hound closed his eyes for a moment, breathing slowly, “Only a few klicks or so, least it should be.” Hound nodded then hummed, realizing his mech wouldn’t move, “And then we find the source of the storm?” Mirage chuckled lightly, “If there is one, yes.” he sighed slowly and held Hound that little bit closer.

Hound slid a bit on the floor and tried not to laugh as he adjusted, “I really am fine Mirage, sandstorms happen on Earth too.” But the mech remains quiet and Hound’s breath caught, “Mirage?” There was a moments pause, “Yes?” Sighing slowly, Hound stood, “Do they have storms like this on Cybertron?” And Mirage sighed shakily, “Not where I’m from, no.” Hound stared at his visual feed for only a moment longer.

Back in his chair, he connected with a bit of a jolt and moved quickly, trying not to hurt Mirage while he moved them both. The wind was trying to shove his suit back to the ground and Mirage wasn’t much help, wiggling and thrashing before finally they had switched places.

Hound was now pinning Mirage to the ground, though not face first in the sand, and Hound’s mech was cradling the poor man’s head, “You should have said something.” He really couldn’t see Mirage, the sand was that dense in the dark, but he had him on infrared, “You were asleep when the storm hit and I couldn’t wake you. I was fine.” Hound scoffs and shakes his head, “You’re insane.” But he continues to hold Mirage’s head away from the ground.

To be fair, Hound knew if he wasn’t in his mech, it would be incredibly awkward to hold any person like this. Watching Mirage’s face get warmer on infrared was proving that fact, but he just held on as still as the suit would allow, “Back home, I’m from essentially a desert. I only lived there a few years but it’s still home.” Mirage’s optics turned towards his visor, though Hound wasn’t sure if he could see him through the storm.

“We didn’t get storms this bad and there wasn’t a ton of sand, but we’d still get them. We’d also get the densest fog you’d ever see.” Hound just hoped that his talking would help keep the poor guy calm, he sighed slowly.

Clearing his throat a bit, Hound lowers his head slightly and closes his eyes, “On Earth, more specifically back home, out in the fields on the really windy days we’d get very weak tornados that would really only move the dust around. They were small and harmless, but they’d still send sand and crap into your eyes. Uh, they were called dust devils, I think. But it could be the most clear and beautiful day and it would be ruined by the fucking sand.” His helm lightly touched the edge of Mirage’s chest plating.

Mirage was staring, just able to see Hound through the sand and to say the least was deeply embarrassed. It was one thing to be frightened by a sand storm, it was another to be comforted by the most oblivious mech in the universe. His own hands had been stiff at his sides, as Hound’s had held his head just above the sand, the poor mech's elbows buried in sand. Slowly, painfully slowly he’d rested his hands back around Hound who just kept rambling on about Earth.

It really was a comfort to listen to him, and Mirage smiled softly, brushing a hand lightly up Hound’s side, “Earth sounds so nice.” Hound looked up, visor brightening, “I miss it, sometimes.” He sighed slowly, shifting slightly in his chair while keeping the suit as still as he could. His implants felt like they were burning and the skin around them was swollen, “But the work is here. I wouldn’t wish to be there, when there’s so much to do here.” He smiled a bit, “Do you feel better?”

Mirage really wanted to punch the oblivious idiot, “Yeah, I do.” Hound smiled, “Good, I’m glad.” He lowered his suit’s head back down, “Get some rest Mirage, I’ve got you till the storm breaks.” Mirage stared at him like Hound had grown a second helm, the mech was insane and oblivious. Rolling his optics a bit, he vents out.

Tapping a few things in the controls, Hound locks up the suit, keeping it in place. He doubted it was the most comfortable thing for Mirage, but it might be the most comforting. Yawning, he removes his helmet and tosses his legs over the arm of his piloting chair, “God, it had to be the middle of the night, didn’t it?” Mirage chuckled in the dark, “That is the way things go.” And Hound smiled, closing his eyes.

—

The room was pleasantly dark and the bed decently comfortable, his arm thrown over his eyes. Since it was just himself and Sideswipe, the apartment was almost pleasantly quiet. It had been hard, the first few days of bed rest but his overuse symptoms had been limited before the concussion and he had yet to be back in the suit since. 

Almost all overuse symptoms were gone, though Breakdown had experienced them in the past. His were slightly different from the Americans, as his implants didn’t bleed or drain, as most of the skin around them had been cauterized. It was only once on loan to MECHA did any of his integrated hardware get updated. 

Almost all of the new stuff was still in fact new. For the twins, their implants and things were only a few years old, Hound and Jazz had had them for almost or around ten years, as had Breakdown with his original integrations. The ones for the upgrades though, those only came about in the last year or two, they would still itch and burn.

Right now his right arm was burning and he thought about getting up to get some water to put on it, but Sideswipe’s music was being played at unbearable levels in the living room. 

So, Breakdown just turned over and tried to go back to sleep. 

Sideswipe was playing his music while checking through part of the wiring on his suit, nodding along to the few familiar sounds from home that were withstanding. At the end of the week, if Breakdown was cleared by Jazz, he’d be shipping out to join Megatron and Hound while Sideswipe was still wondering who on earth this Elita-One person was. 

They couldn’t be that bad, most of who he’d met had been nice enough. Sometimes a little scary but he doubted anyone reached Megatron’s level of intensity. 

The little comm on the wall started to ping, which would go ignored until Sideswipe could get his helmet microphone working again, so it would just sit there and ping. He swore loudly as the wires he connected burned his fingers lightly, kicking his assistance suit off the table.

Breakdown covered his ears and turned into his pillow.  

— 

It wasn’t particularly hard to disable its small shuttle craft, these were run of the mill and more typical back home than they had been in the nearly seven months that they’d been among the Cybertronian’s. Then again, they were fighting an army of these freaks compared to the one or two that was able to topple an Earth city.

Sunstreaker was breathing heavy, mask back on as the air in his tanks was starting to drain with the exertion, “Fall back!” He throws his arm behind him a bit, tangled with the Quintesson, whose ship was above them and still laying down covering fire through the cybertronian camp, “Sunstreaker, don’t be stupid!” Ironhide was behind him, just barely covered by an overturned crate and holding his arm.

It was singed and sparking painfully.

Barely sparing a glance over his shoulder, Sunstreaker drags his blade across one of the tentacles of the Quintesson, splattering his mech in that familiar disgusting green, “Ironhide, fall back and get the others to a safe distance! That ship isn’t going to be able to stay up there if it uses up all its energy on the covering fire!” The Quintesson quickly tugged him back and screamed, trying to pry at his plating. 

Someone yelled loudly and several blaster shots came incredibly close to Sunny’s visual feed, one camera cutting out with a flash as he swung around, foot colliding with the beak of the enemy. It shrieked and reeled back, Sunny bringing one of his bladed bracers down on it again, splattering more green across the light sand. 

There was no more yelling behind him and he could finally focus on just the fight, Ironhide pinging him to alert him of their retreat location. With a bit of a smile, Sunstreaker dove at the monster again, pulling at its limbs with a horrific squelching noise. Wrapping its limbs around his arms and pulling, tearing them away from the alien and cutting them when they wouldn’t give, it screamed and tried to get hold of his legs again.

He stomped on it and headbutted the thing, though he thought for a second he heard his visor crack, another camera was quick to pop offline, which he doubted was a good thing. Sunstreaker was still able to maintain his entire visual feed, resorting to auxiliary cameras.

This particular specimen had denser skin than other Quints he fought, harder to pull apart and nearly impossible to cleave in two without Sideswipe there, but he was still trying. Spraying the beautiful beach in green as the ship above lets out its final pathetic shots on the distant sand, its menacing hum turning into a pathetic whine. 

It started to let out an alarmed sound, which caused the Quintesson to look up and gave Sunny the perfect moment to jump forward, arm going half way deep into its body. It gurgled briefly, spraying the front of his mech greener still, before its tentacles fell from around Sunstreaker and it’s body gave way. It almost dragged Sunny to the sand too.

He hardly had a moment to catch his breath before turning than diving the other way, the absurdly large scout ship crashing onto the beach where it’s energy cells were quick to explode upon impact. Spraying the once beautiful organic paradise in a horrible mix of technological and organic shipwreck. Leaving the beautiful beach on fire. 

The concussive wave hit last, slamming into Sunstreaker’s suit like a perfectly placed punch, enough to knock the wind out of him.

Laying in the sand, the water comes up and brushes over parts of his mech and Sunstreaker tried not to laugh. There, on the beach, staring up at the brightening sky, it really did remind him of home for a long moment. 

Chuckling and sitting up, he rubbed a hand over his covered face, moving to remove the oxygen mask before stopping. Starting. The hand of his mech had glass sticking in its seams, a light blue glass, “Oh shit.” He didn’t know how bad it would be, but that would be a part that would be incredibly difficult to replace or explain having to replace.

With a shove off the ground, he pulled up the coordinates sent to him by Ironhide and started that way, a few mechs already appearing from around the area to try and start putting out the fire. A few had upgrades that were able to put down extinguishing agents.

Sunstreaker kept walking, even as a few people he knew stopped to gawk at him, which was not a good sign to be able to explain this away.

It got even worse when Flatline came running up to him, the mech was large and intimidating but an incredible medic, “Sunstreaker, you need to stop, just hold still!” His hand lightly grabbed Sunstreaker’s suit, and Sunny pulled back, holding up his hands lightly, “It looks worse than it is, I swear.” Poor Flatline looked horrified, “There are going to be mechs who actually need your help, cause of the explosion and stuff.” Sunny added lamely. 

This was not going to help his case, even as he kept backing up, now in the tree line and edging close to where Ironhide had ordered the retreat to. More mecha were gawking at him or even gasping, this was bad, “Sunstreaker, it is more than just appearing incredibly painful, your optics,” “Are fine! I swear, it’s just the visor, I think. I can see.” He tries sidestepping the medic, when sends him colliding with his commanding officer. Today was just turning into the perfect mess.

Ironhide looked ready to yell when Sunstreaker turned to him, before going pale, or cold, Sunny wasn’t entirely sure which to describe it as for a mech, “Sweet primus, how are you still standing?” Sunstreaker winces, “Is it really that bad?” Ironhide gawked at him as someone nearby was sobbing.

”That bad? Kid, your visor is shattered and you’ve got a graze that took out part of your finial.” The sobbing got louder, “Oh Blue, he’s alive! Calm down, for sparks sake.” Ironhide sighs slowly, staring, “Does it hurt?” Sunstreaker could only offer a shrug and the truth, “I don’t feel a thing, but I was designed that way.” Flatline made a strangled noise and Ironhide looked ready to either pass out or murder mankind, he wasn’t sure which at the moment, “Come on kid, sit down, let Flatline at least, at least cover it.” Nodding a bit, Sunstreaker slowly sits.

Flatline filled most of his visual feed in the next second, “I don’t have the parts to replace this,” “I don’t think you could if you wanted to. A lot of your stud won’t integrate with our systems.” Flatline looked to Ironhide, who could only nod, then Flatline swore and started to put god knows what across his suit's visor.

It went quiet for a bit after that, Ironhide disappearing out of Sunny’s field of view and Sunstreaker couldn’t move without being growled at. Intimidating indeed. 

It was only once the shattered visor was mostly covered and Sunstreaker had adjusted his cameras did Ironhide reappear, with Bluestreak to his left looking horribly distraught. Sunny smiled and realized that Blue wouldn’t see it before sending him a ping, which opened far faster than would be humanly possible. He still offered a smile, but it didn’t seem to improve Blue’s mood.

Ironhide cleared his throat a bit, “Sunstreaker, I gave an order to Bluestreak here to fire on the Quintesson when he had a clear shot.” He pauses and looks at Blue then back at Sunny.

It honestly looked Sunny way too long to put two and two together, he paused before staring with a slightly slack jaw, “Wait, Blue shot me? In the face?” Bluestreak made a pained noise, “To be fair, he was shooting the tentacle that was trying to wrap itself around your face that you were ignoring. The second shot just hit your face since the first one severed the thing.” Nodding slowly, Sunstreaker goes to rub his face in thought and three mechs were quick to grab his arm.

”Don’t touch it! It’s only a cover till you can get it repaired.” Flatline was glaring now, so Sunstreaker slowly lowered his hands. Ironhide sighed deeply, “This could have been a lot worse, if we were using the weapons from the war.” Nodding for a moment, Sunny looked to Ironhide, “You’re not using the weapons from the war?” “Primus no, those things were designed to kill us. To go through cyber-mater. We only use the new stuff now.” He nods a bit, clearly worried but unwilling to show it. 

Bluestreak’s hand lightly covered his mouth, “It’s… It’s only supposed to-to hurt organics.” His voice wavered and rose, but Ironhide’s hand came down, “See? It’s nothing personal, kid. We all get shot by an ally at some point, though it’s usually Mirage as the high caste bastard can turn himself invisible.” Bluestreak looked at Sunstreaker, clearly still distraught and horrified, but Sunny nodded a bit and moves over, taking his hand, “I’m not hurt, I swear.” Ironhide and Flatline shared a look.

With a deep sigh, Ironhide rests a hand on Sunstreaker’s shoulder, “I think it’s fair to say you're off punishment Civi, just, get some rest while we try to recover anything from camp. Try to recall Skyfire and the shuttle to get the pit out of here.” He nodded a bit before going off, barking orders again.

Sunstreaker stared after them, “That Quintesson comms station was at camp.” Bluestreak took his hand and held it tightly, “That doesn’t matter.” Looking at Blue, Sunny shakes his head lightly, “I’m not hurt Blue, it just busted up a camera or two.” But the pain on Bluestreak’s face wouldn’t be going away any time soon, “But you look hurt and I caused it.” Sunstreaker sighed, leaning his head against Bluestreak’s shoulder.

Even though they were in the tree line, the waves were still audible, “I’m human Blue, whether I was hurt or just my suit, we both know this is what I was made to do.” Bluestreak’s grip held tighter, “I hate that you pilots feel the need to live and die for this.” Sunstreaker smiled sadly, “What else would there be to live for? When your world would die if you didn’t at least try.” He sighed slowly, running diagnostics.

They sat there, silently, Bluestreak looking both at the suit and the human in the corner of his visual feed, unable to stop thinking about the fact that his gun was re-designed specifically to kill organics. 

———

A/N

So I basically wrote this all tonight, cause I lost track of time and forgot it was Monday after posting an earlier chapter on Ao3. I was busy today anyways.

It’s not likely that I’ll have part 27 for you guys on Friday, just cause I have to write some personal statement for applications this week.

Also also, earlier when I mentioned it being action and fluff? Yeah, I have written up till Sunny was just starting the fight with the Quint, I did not anticipate the later part of this chapter.

Sunny’s visor for his suit has a small chunk taken out of it, right near where his right eye would be, and it had spider webbed the glass. It’s not a pretty picture, plus the tip of his finial thing had been sheered down. I promise if you look at @cosmique-oddity ‘s art for Arcturus you’ll know what I mean.

Uh, anyways. I hope you enjoy this late chapter. P. 25 didn’t do great last week so we’ll see?

Also I have no idea who Flatline is. I know he is a decepticon medic from IDW and I needed a medic that could be on Archa three with them.

TAGS!

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @childofprimus @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @dimencreasatlas @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @starscreamloverfr @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette @blue-wrens @sirassban @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @osqindaxend @xervias @azulabutterfly @fryseem @spring-mc @echo-circuit @aghostsnail @wooblewooble @ask-glory-haddock-and-others @nonsscarpheap @magichats @iminahole247 @omgflyingderpywhale @pour1tin @thetrexartist @naaaafam @elegantmantaray @emichusai @waterlilykitty @diabolichare

And once again thank you to @keferon for this amazing AU

[eliza-and-her-monsters]

the tortured poets department

Info Post

Moodboards

Part I

Prev Part < - > Next Part

Contains/TW: omg lesbians guess what?? WE MADE IT Y’ALL!! this chapter WILL BE NSFW and you should know the drill by now but STILL- MINORS DNI! you are FINALLY getting smut… glorious beautiful wlw lesbian sex 🙏 it IS millie’s first time however she is not infantilized or completely clueless about sex and i’m trying to not make her overly innocent as well. this chapter will also contain some texts in the beginning/smau type shit, brief discussions of self harm/scars, anxiety/panic attacks, and a good old fashioned menty b! also some brief 3rd person/ellie pov at the end of this?? anywaaaaays… hope you enjoy! <3

WC: 5.9k i was a yapper in this soz 😭

Part VII

false god

I was still shaking as I clicked my phone off and peered at my reflection in the mirror. Vi’s shirt was way oversized, the sleeves easily hitting my elbow and the edge easily brushing my mid thigh. Ultimately, I was still mostly covered and I think I would’ve been okay with it. If it weren’t for the fact that she hadn’t seen all the scars yet.

“Ummm… hey Vi?” I questioned, cracking open the door just a mere inch. “D-Do you have a jacket or-?”

“Are you still cold?” She wondered, eyebrows furrowing as I saw her approaching the door. “I turned the heat up for you before we came in, can you not feel it yet?”

“Well, I mean- I can it’s just…” My voice shook as I seemed to trip over every word, barely even able to string them together. But thankfully I didn’t have to do much before I felt her hand slipping around my wrist, and the tiniest instinctive flinch I felt myself do was very telling.

“Baby, you don’t have to hide those in front of me, alright?” Her thumb just barely brushed over the scarred skin as I felt the door to the bathroom naturally swinging open, tracing over the individual lines that were slowly fading yet still clear and raised ever so slightly. “You’ll talk to me first if you ever wanna do this again, right? Or it doesn’t even have to be me… me or Ellie or Caitlyn or Jinx or- literally anyone-“

“Violet, I promise.” I spoke, feeling like her full name would add some sort of strength to it. The stronger a promise the more of a reason I would have to not break it. “I- I promise. I-I haven’t even done it in like a month. There was an incident over the summer after I got out of the hospital but Ellie caught me and hasn’t let me be alone with sharp objects since so… her and Caitlyn definitely have precautions.”

Vi let out a heavy breath and nodded, she didn’t want to linger on the subject or pry but I could tell it scared her. And I hated it. How I even managed to scare somebody like Vi. “I just… I really really- really care about you, Mills.” She spoke, stuttering over her own words like she wanted to choose different ones. Nevertheless though she didn’t bounce back to change them or anything. She just simply placed her hands on the side of my face as she pulled me in to place a firm kiss to my forehead. “I know you don’t need it,” She spoke next, arms slipping around me to pull me back into her. Her arms always feeling like such a safe space now, soft but tight all the same. The way she would hold my head against her chest every single time. It felt like a war could be raging on outside and as long as I was here, wrapped up in her arms, I would be safe. “But I just have this overwhelming urge to want to protect you. You’ve been through enough and I just… I want you to finally not have to worry about any of that shit while you’re here. I- I want you to be happy.”

“I am though.” I stated with softened eyes as I peered upwards at her, lifting a hand to softly lay against her cheek. A curious thumb drifting outwards to trace around her light scattering of freckles across her nose. “I am happy. With you. Right now.”

A light smile tugged on her lips, my heart almost feeling like it was skipping in my chest as I felt her hands sliding around my waist once more. “Promise?” She questioned, closing the already small gap between us as she pressed me to her body. And I caught myself hoping she couldn’t feel my racing heart beneath my ribs.

“Promise.” I felt breathless as I stood up to my tiptoes to place my lips to hers. All of the air sweeping out of my lungs as I encircled my arms around her shoulders, Vi always meeting each kiss with equal or more enthusiasm. And each kiss feeling more and more like the first one all over again. Though this one was stronger. Fiercer. Deeper.

“Are you sure you want this?” She seemed to breathe into me as I felt her hands drifting lower, already bringing up that same frustrated ache in between my legs that had only seemed to fester.

I nodded, barely able to choke out a ‘please’ before her arms encircled around my thighs and she lifted my legs to hoist around her waist with ease. “Vi-“ I stammered out with instinctive nerves as my arms tightened for dear life around her shoulders.

“Shhh, I’ve got you. I won’t drop you.” She whispered in a soothing voice before connecting her lips back to mine. Fingers brushing along my bare thighs almost causing me to whimper before she pressed me to her unmade bed where she crawled over top of me with ease. Her hips fit so effortlessly in between my spread legs finally drawing the softest moan from my lips at even the lightest friction. “Hey,” She halted, gentle eyes peering downwards at me as my trembling hands gripped her shoulders for dear life. “Tell me if you want me to stop, okay? At any point.”

I gulped an anxious lump down my throat with a nod, almost feeling like my thighs were only tightening around her waist at the uncontrollable ache that seemed to form in my lower abdomen. Our bodies almost seemed to mold together as her hard muscles pressed into my own, flexing around me nearly causing me to let out a breathy moan all over again. Her hands gripping my hips and holding them to the mattress below. “You’ve never been touched before?” She whispered against my lips, the statement causing me to tense up in response. Vi’s expression softened, laying a delicate hand against my cheek as her eyes never left mine for a second, “It’s okay, you can tell me.”

I brought an anxious hand up to my lips as if to latch on to one of my nails again as I shook my head in response. “Have you ever touched yourself before?” Another shake of my head as I slipped my nail in between my teeth, cheeks red with embarrassment as I prepared for the absolute worse. Insecurity almost rivaling the unbridled want that seemed to course through every inch of my body. What if she didn’t want this or me? She was so experienced so why on earth would she want me for anything that lasted more than a night? “Hey… Hey, doll, it’s okay.” I heard her soft voice once more, a warm hand brushing underneath my cheekbone just before a small tear could stream down it. “That doesn’t change anything. If you still want this… just tell me. Talk to me.”

The only thing I could hear was the thumping of my heart, the heavy breaths still pushing through my lungs as she stroked my cheek. Her eyes didn’t leave mine for one second, as if searching for any hint of an answer. “I’m just… I-I’m just really scared.” I blew out a long sigh from my tight lungs, leaning into her bruised hand that had never seemed so delicate before. “But I want this- I-I really do I- I want it to be with you.”

“You promise?” She whispered, pressing her forehead to mine as her thumb softly brushed underneath my eyes. “Swear to me?”

“I promise, Vi, on everything, I promise.” I muttered just as I let my arms slip back around her shoulders, answering by pressing my lips to hers once more. I almost whimpered the moment she pressed me back to the bed, her hips slotting perfectly in between my own spread legs. Her hands toying with the hem of my shirt as if asking for silent permission.

My body shivered as I gulped an anxious lump down my throat and nodded. Her eyes were soft as she gingerly lifted the fabric from over my head. On instinct I lifted my quivering hands upwards to my chest as if to cover them until I felt Vi’s careful hands slipping around my wrists. “Let me see you, baby.” She whispered, slowly pulling them away, more silent asks for permission. Giving me the ability to change my mind if I wanted to. But somehow I never wanted to. “So… goddamn… beautiful.” She murmured as her eyes seemed to scan down my body with the look of someone who had never seen the female body before.

“Fuck, doll, you’re way too good for me, you know that?” She spoke with a half smile and a shake of her head before reaching for the back of her wife beater to yank it over her body. I don’t know what I was expecting to be fair, I knew she worked hard on her physique. I could’ve gotten lost just tracing the curves of her muscular arms, her biceps, the darkened lines of her tattoos. But to actually see the entirety of her body, it almost left me choking. The toned markers of her ab muscles and pectoral muscles, the way her back tattoo peeked out from behind her broad shoulders giving way to her hourglass figure. And were those two distinct silver bars poked through her nipples? Her body looked like a work of art itself. Carved and sculpted by only the most talented individuals.

“Ummm, I-I don’t know I- I think you might be too good for me.” I stammered with widened eyes just as I saw her lips lift in a smirk.

“Nah, I think you’re fucking perfect.” She muttered underneath her breath before pressing her bare body to mine as she caught my lips on her own. A soft moan broke through in between kisses, the cool metal of her piercings causing my back to arch against her. Seeking even more of her out as our lips seemed to mold together in a perfect sync. The ache in between my legs only spiraled towards unbearable as my hips bucked upwards, desperate for contact.

Vi let out a low chuckle against my lips before letting her own trail back towards my neck. “Patience, pretty girl, you know I’ll take care of you.” She murmured as I felt the expanse of her hand wrapping around my thigh to give it a faint squeeze.

“It hurts.” I spoke through a quiet whimper, squeezing my arms around her shoulders.

“I know… I know I’ve made you wait too long tonight just hold out for a little bit longer, okay? I wanna savor this.” She whispered, pressing a soft kiss to my pulse point before letting them slowly drift lower. Inching towards my collarbone, down my chest, each kiss I swear making that ache in between my legs get stronger and stronger while my breathing grew heavier and heavier by the moment.

Her lips wrapped around one of my perked out nipples, my jaw dropping with a sharp gasp as she ran her tongue around the sensitive area and her hands worked their way down my squirming body. “Can I, doll?” She whispered, lightly tugging at the flimsy pair of underwear still attached to my body. The only piece of clothing still attached to my body.

“Please… please, Violet.” I answered, finally giving up on my attempt not to beg. But her hand was so close. Carefully slipping it underneath the fragile fabric, a heavy moan spilling from my lips at the overwhelming pleasure that finally hit all at once as she brushed a calloused finger against my clit. My nails sunk into her back as I clutched onto her for dear life, “Vi-”

“You’re so sensitive, princess, I barely even touched you.” She whispered, her hot breath against my sensitive breasts causing my chest to arch against her. “You’re soaked too, doll, is all this for me?” I whined in need, probably nodding like a fucking bobblehead as another hand slipped downwards to delicately caress my hip bone, “You wanna let go of me so I can go down on you, baby?”

My arms seemed to squeeze even tighter around her broad shoulders, barely noticing how I had burrowed my face into the crook of her neck. I was terrified to let go of her, even though it felt like a throbbing wet mess in between my thighs. Even though I needed her so bad… so desperately… so intensely I wasn’t even sure what to do with myself. “I’ll still be right here baby, I’m not going anywhere and if you wanna stop you just tell me, okay?”

“Okay.” I finally let out through a long and airy breath with a nod. “Okay.”

“Atta girl.” Her praise brought about another soft moan as she let her lips trail back down my body, immediately causing me to spring upwards onto my elbows with a loud whimper once they reached my lower stomach. Vi’s expression shifted into a more stern one as she lifted her arm once more to wrap her hand around my chin and press me back towards the bed. Gentle, but still firm all the same. “No, you lay back and relax. Let me take care of you.”

“Okay… o-okay.” I said through the same shaky breaths as she inched the now probably soaked underwear down my legs. All hints of nerves seemed to be replaced with need the moment I felt her soft lips brushing along my inner thighs, her hot breath dancing along my core right where I needed her the most. “Violet.” My hips bucked upwards, a shivering hand stretching downwards as if begging for her to take it.

“Shhh, I’m right here.” Vi whispered, lacing her fingers through mine with a tiny squeeze as she placed a line of kisses up my thighs.

My jaw fell open with a cry of pleasure though as I finally felt the warmth of her tongue running upwards through my wet slit. Lapping at my folds I could already feel a sense of euphoria creeping through me as she sent the vibrations of a moan through my body. “Fuck doll, you taste so fucking good. I don’t know if I’m ever gonna get enough of you.”

Her hand reached for my thigh, wrapping her arm around the circumference to hoist it over her shoulder with ease. A gasp slid from my throat as she pressed her face closer to my core, parting my continuously slick folds with her tongue, mouth seeming to envelop the entirety of my cunt. My moans grew louder, heavier, my hand practically squeezing the life out of hers at her breath on my clit. Soon replaced by the soft tip of her nose nudging it ever so slightly, with the utmost gentleness like she didn’t want to work me up so quickly. However we were already long past that.

“Vi…” I whimpered, a cry of pleasure sounding from my lips at the stimulation to the sensitive area. My hips bucked almost painfully, rolling against her face almost looking like it was causing her eyes to roll back.

“Good girl.” She whispered, the praise covering me in goosebumps as my leg curled around her head. “Keep moving your hips like that, doll.” My hands tangled into sheets below, back arching all over again as her tongue seemed to move in sync with my hips. A sea of pleasure that made my own eyes roll back. My jaw fell open all over, desperate and erotic moans seeming to take over the entirety of my breaths.

The moment I felt her tongue curling around my clit I nearly shot up once more, massaging the bundle of nerves with just the right amount of pressure. Just enough to make me see stars but not enough to rush through it. This wasn’t a matter of her seeing how quickly she could make me finish. This was a matter of her wanting to savor it, take her time, as long as she possibly could. “Vi… V-Violet- oh Violet.” I could barely recognize myself, speaking her name like I knew no other word as she ran a torturously long lick around the circumference of the sensitive bundle of nerves right through my wet folds. A motion that seemed to hit every sweet spot, like she didn’t want to leave an inch of me untouched, untasted. “J-Just like that- o-oh my- just like that, p-please don’t stop.”

“Feels good, baby? Right there?” She whispered, the vibrations of her voice nearly driving me up the wall before diving back in. Increasing the pressure with each lap through, I swear I squeezed her hand so tightly I almost thought it was hurting her. But she didn’t seem to mind, just kept running her thumb along my knuckles in a soothing motion.

“R-Right there… right there… o-oh fuck- Vi!” I practically squealed at the vibrations of her own moans, her soft lips running along my clit that throbbed in pleasure. Another cry of euphoria bursting through my lips as she flattened her tongue against the swollen bundle. Lapping at my center as if she was starving, dying of thirst even.

Closer and closer she drew me towards the edge, my breathing quickening as the pressure in my lower stomach seemed to build to heights I almost couldn’t handle. “Violet… Vi- I- I think I’m gonna cum.” I could barely get the words out at the sensations, the heavy build-up that made tears burn at my eyes.

“Let go for me, baby, just let go. I’m right here.” The high felt neverending, hitting me like a shattered dam as my eyes rolled back for the millionth time. My body felt like it was encased entirely in goosebumps, leaving me nearly breathless. Vi worked me through every bit of it though, lapping up every bit of the mess like it was the sweetest nectar she had ever tasted.

The moans turned into sobs not long afterwards, the pleasure reduced to a racing heart as my entire body seemed to shake in the aftermath. “V-Vi?” I stammered through her name, like my brain had almost completely forgotten she was there until she was right in front of me. Hands cupping the sides of my face, soft powder blue eyes coming into view as she smoothed out my messy hair, strands probably soaked in sweat.

“Right here, doll, I’m right here.” She whispered, her voice a soothing symphony over the roar within my head, and I caught myself curling my trembling hands around her shoulders as if in some attempt to ground myself. I burrowed my face into the crook of her neck while the white noise of her shushes slowly drowned out the feeling of my racing heart. She didn’t pull away until the shaking stopped, soft thumbs stroking my cheeks as she wiped away every bit of the tears.

“You still with me, princess?” She whispered, the softest hand of all time gently curling around my chin and pulling me to face her.

“I- y-yeah, yeah, I’m okay.” I said through a long and heavy breath, almost trying to match them up with Vi’s, making it just the tiniest bit easier to catch my own. “I’m sorry I- I should’ve anticipated that that was gonna happen. Th-That was amazing a-and I don’t want you to feel like it wasn’t-”

“Baby girl, you don’t have anything to apologize for. And you don’t have to explain yourself to me, okay?” She said with a shake of her head, brushing scarred lips against my temple. The weight of her body felt like a warm blanket, a soothing embrace as I wrapped tight arms around her broad shoulders, probably clinging to her like a damn koala. “Do you need me to get you anything, princess? Something to eat maybe? I live with a fuck ton of jocks but I’m sure I could find something you like.”

“I… like you.” I murmured, cheeks as red as roses as I let my pointer finger gently trace along the curve of her jaw.

“Doll, I know, you already have me though. What else can I get you?” She chuckled lightly, pressing her lips to my forehead this time. Sweet little delicate kisses that only made my smile grow. I had definitely thought about what I’d be into during sex, but never really put a ton of thought into what I’d want during aftercare. I guess I always assumed I’d probably be high maintenance due to sensory overload and so on… but with Vi, I found that in a lot of ways her arms were enough. Still, I didn’t want her to think I was too clingy.

“Do you by any chance have a weighted blanket? And can you tie my hair back… maybe?” I questioned, nervously chewing on my bottom lip and hoping it wasn’t too much. Vi only cracked another small smile as she nodded.

“Yeah, I think I can do that, and I’ll see if we have one.”

Moments later after a few more forehead kisses and cleaning myself up in the bathroom, she was gently running a brush through my long hair as my eyelids fluttered with exhaustion. She of course wasn’t very well-versed in hair care. Not in the way that Caitlyn would always braid it in different intricate styles whenever we were growing up and Ellie even being surprisingly good at it whenever we were in the psychiatric program over the summer. I didn’t mind though. It was soothing, feeling her take her time running the brush through the long strands, getting all the knots out.

“Is this your love language? Letting people play with your hair?” She finally spoke up after a moment of comfortable silence.

The corners of my lips quirked upwards in a little chuckle as I felt her twisting the thick strands into a loose ponytail, though I wouldn’t have minded letting her run her fingers through it for a fair bit longer. I guess that answered her question. “Caitlyn started it I guess you could say. I’ve always liked my long hair and felt really pretty with it so I never wanted to cut it short but… sometimes having it down would just make it so much easier for me to get overstimulated. And my parents never had time to, well, do a ton of nurturing stuff like do their daughter’s hair so- Caitlyn learned how. I swear almost every day from year 5 onwards she would do my hair every day before school. She had like a dozen different girls asking her to braid theirs at some point too for like, school dances and formals and stuff.”

I rambled on, my cheeks only heating in response as I fiddled around with the edge of Vi’s shirt that I had slipped back on. “Sorry- i-if I talk about her too much, I know she’s sort of your ex, she’s just- she’s like my best friend, you know?”

“She’s hardly my ex.” Vi almost snickered with a shake of her head. “And I get it, she’s a big part of your life… and in all honesty I can’t blame her for being at least a little bit wary about, you know,” She took in a deep breath as she lounged back against her bed, arms stretching upwards to rest her hands behind her head. A moment of hesitation passing, as if she was afraid to say the words. “Us.”

Something felt like it was blooming in my chest as she said those words. A deep flush creeping back up into my cheeks that I ultimately tried to ignore as I cautiously moved to lay next to her. “How come?” I wondered, curling up onto my side as I watched her eyes sweep over to meet mine.

“You really wanna see the good in everybody, don’t you, doll?” She questioned, the dodge of the question causing my chest to tighten for a brief moment.

“Not always.” I muttered with a tiny shrug, “I’ve found that humans are vastly complicated beings. They’re rarely entirely evil, and even then… we rarely actually think we’re entirely evil, and then whenever we do- it’s rarely true.”

“You sure you’re not a philosophy major?” She questioned with a lifted brow, a tiny giggle breaking through my lips as I let myself inch closer to her warmth.

“Definitely not, but I am an english lit major which is… kind of the same thing.” I suggested with another shy shrug as I curled up to her side, immediately feeling her muscular arm sliding around my shoulders to pull me into her chest. Surprisingly soft, those same damn pheromones drawing my eyes shut as I draped my other arm around her body.

I barely even noticed it at first, my fingers accidentally brushing against the lines of a few slightly raised scars etched onto her side. Though I almost jumped whenever I heard Vi’s breath hitch and her hand wrap around my wrist to pull it from the area, instead letting it settle against her chest. “I-I’m sorry.” I stammered, shoulders tucking inwards in an instinctual wince.

“No, it’s okay, doll… it’s just a sensitive spot, you didn’t know.” Her hand loosened on my wrist at the reaction, brushing a soft thumb along my knuckles as she did so. “I’m sorry if I scared you.” She added with a slightly guilty sigh as she lifted my hand upwards to brush her lips to my knuckles next.

“I feel like-” I began, cautiously tossing the words around in my head as I rested my cheek back on her chest. Weighing them in my head, still approaching each interaction with caution. Because I was raised in an environment where asking questions was seen as an act of defiance. “You know everything about me but I don’t know anything about you.”

“You know everything that matters.” She spoke with a sigh that almost sounded exasperated, brushing her fingers underneath my chin to tilt my head upwards to meet her eyes. Still gentle, still careful, but firm in her stance nonetheless. “I’ll tell you more eventually, okay doll? But for now I really need you to get some rest, alright? I’ll be here whenever you wake up.”

I caught my bottom lip in between my teeth, fighting back my stubborn and anxious protests with a nod. “Promise?” I muttered, finally drawing another tiny smile from her lips, nearly causing me to sigh in relief at the sight. She isn’t angry, she isn’t angry at you. You’re fine.

“I promise.” She answered, brushing a soft pair of lips against my forehead before I could snuggle back into her chest.

I almost wished I could say sleep came more difficult that night, in a new environment wrapped up in the arms of someone who clearly wasn’t just a friend. I wished I could’ve said that so I could convince myself I wasn’t falling too hard too impossibly fast. But it came so easy… and I was clearly well and truly past the point of just falling.

~

The empty locker room after the break of dawn was usually the best place to breakdown in private. Especially with Jinx being a known snooper, Ellie being a known introvert, and Jinx also not being the best person to wake up without landing yourself a black eye. And in Ellie’s defense, it’s not like she could sleep. So she had originally drug herself to the 24-hour gym attached to the hockey rink first to blow off some steam which later… of course- resulted in her breaking down where she was today. Her face buried into her knees, sketchbook open in front of her and headphones latched over top of her head playing music that absolutely was not going to make her feel better.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had cried to this extent. Certainly not while she had been here, and if she had she couldn’t remember. But this wasn’t a cry she could easily forget. It was one that made her entire head ache, and even more so the space behind her red eyes. The type of cry that you could feel in your chest, a crushing ache that almost made you think your heart was actually physically breaking.

It was ultimately a selfish reason to cry, brought on by her own co-dependency. And maybe partially a feeling she wasn’t quite ready to admit yet.

The feeling of someone tugging at her headphones nearly made her jump out of skin. Probably letting out a supremely embarrassing squeal as she dropped them around her neck. “Geez? Crying alone in the locker room? Not even the lounge? You must be on some serious self-deprecating shit.”

“Jesus Abby! A warning would’ve been nice!” Ellie huffed as she immediately dug at her eyes with the heels of her hands in some attempt to hopefully dry it all up before she could make a fool of herself even more than she already had.

“I said your name like 5 times and snapped in front of your face. This was a last ditch effort.” Abby said with a shake of her head before whirling around to face her locker. “You look like shit, what’s up with you? Boy trouble? Girl trouble? Whatever you’re into trouble?”

“Definitely not boy trouble.” Ellie whispered, bringing out her phone to pause the song still raging in her headphones.

“I figured but- didn’t wanna assume.” Abby said with a shrug, already setting to work with undoing her lock as she shrugged the oversized backpack from her shoulders. “So… girl trouble then?”

“Why are you acting like you care?” A slight crack crept into Ellie’s voice as she peered over at her, and she hated herself for it.

“Oh… I don’t- don’t flatter yourself. Sometimes that’s easier though… talking about it with somebody who doesn’t care.” Abby added casually as she began to unpack, shooting another nonchalant look Ellie’s way with another simple shrug. “Up to you. You can of course let it fester if you want, seem like an expert at doing that anyways.”

“I don’t let things fester I- not anymore. I just can’t talk to people about this.”

“You mean you can’t talk to Amelia about this.” It wasn’t even phased as a question because she already knew. Ellie was easier to read than she liked to let on. In fact whenever she was in the hospital one of the first things she was called out for was her ‘resting sad face’. Whenever it was blotchy and tear-stained it probably didn’t make it any better.

“She would hate me.” She muttered to herself, not even knowing why she was even talking to Abby about this. But regardless she was. “I would blindside her… right whenever she’s finally happy. Right whenever she’s finally making connections with somebody who isn’t me. I can’t- I can’t do that to her. I would look so fucking selfish!”

“My god, you’re such an opposite of a piece of shit it drives me crazy.” Abby huffed as she dropped the remainder of her backpack load in the locker before whipping around to face her. “Do you hear yourself right now? You’re bawling your eyes out to Taylor Swift alone in a locker room at 6:30 in the morning, currently spilling your guts out to your bully instead of any of your actual friends because you’re worried about how your pain affects other people. Do you not realize how ridiculous that sounds, Williams?”

“Because I don’t want my pain to be the cause of other people’s pain because I don’t know how to control it, Abby! I’ve spent 20 years of my life being a piece of shit and not being able to control myself and you wanna know how the universe responded? By giving me a fucking gun!” Her voice cracked as she flew up to her feet, eyes burning and blurring with incessant tears and fury chipping away at every single bit of sanity she had worked so hard to finally develop. “I can’t- I- I’m sorry. I-I should go.” She sniffled, lifting a shaking hand as she quickly shoved the sketchbook back into her backpack. She barely could understand the words that came out of her own mouth, the tremble seeming to take over her entire body.

Fuck, what had happened to her? She was unstoppable in the army, her gun like an extension of her hand. And there she was, the youngest person in her platoon yet simultaneously the best shot her lieutenant had seen in a while. But now, here she was, breaking down alone in a locker room, overtaken by the shakes.

She had become so weak. So defenseless. So everything she promised herself she’d never be.

“It’s a shame.” Abby spoke up with a carefree sigh and a shrug, “We were finally starting to get somewhere.”

“Listen, Abby-” Ellie huffed as she hoisted her backpack onto her back before whirling around to face her once more. “I know you think you have me all figured out but respectfully, you really don’t, okay? Wh-Whatever version of me you created in your head… she just isn’t real. I-I’m not a good person, Abby.”

“So ask yourself, is my version of you the one that isn’t real or is it the version of you that you had no choice but to be?” She took a step closer, Ellie’s breath almost hitching in her throat the second she had to tilt her head upwards to meet her eyes. It was only a few inches of a difference, three minuscule tiny inches, but lord did it feel like so much more than that. Her broad frame that felt like it could’ve covered Ellie’s entire figure.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Ellie stammered, arms slipping around herself in a makeshift hug or a shield either one. She didn’t know which one she needed more. “You throw my face into the ice one day and get your shit rocked by Vi trying to defend Amelia’s honor and now you’re talking me down in the locker rooms the next? D-Did she seriously have that much of an impact on you?”

“Vi’s a pretty good mediator believe it or not. She’s not just a dumb jock who only thinks with her fists.” Abby added, taking a step backwards only to start unbuttoning her many layers to protect herself from the cold. And Ellie couldn’t help but to gulp a dry lump down her throat the moment Abby finally stood in not much other than a simple grey wife-beater. Just in time for Abby to glance her way and catch her eye. “Are you just here to ogle now or-”

“In your dreams, Anderson.” She scoffed, quickly turning away from her to grab her half-drank water bottle. “I’m not into ‘roided out mascs.”

“Your blush says differently but go off, Williams.” Abby stated, eyes briefly giving Ellie a once over which only causing her cheeks to burn even more.

“That’s only because it’s cold.” Ellie brushed off, a hand flying upwards to her face as if in some attempt to wipe away the flush. “Anyways umm, I-I should go. Thanks for the pep talk… I think.”

“Oh you absolutely should thank me for the pep talk. Will I see you at training later?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Ellie forced out, almost wincing as she pulled herself from the locker room. Not letting out the frustrated groan she was currently feeling until she was completely out of the building.

A/N: i’m so sorry it’s taking me longer to pump these out 😭 mental health has not been killing it lately but i’m still trying hard to put out good content i just might need a bit of a break occasionally 😅 regardless though i have so much fun shit planned for this story so i hope you enjoy it nonetheless! also… brief hint of ellabs at the end?? thoughts?? 😌

Credits: main divider by @saradika-graphics mdni divider by @adornedwithlight 🤎

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[jesncin]

Some inspiration for this comic and Hellblazer homework:

Noah repeats the "any hand will do." line from the Hellblazer Fear Machine arc. I thought it would be so fitting if Noah didn't even realize he was emulating his dad's kindness too. After all, Noah holding someone's hand to comfort them did happen in canon.

Astra Logue, the girl John damned to Hell when messing with demons he shouldn't have, ended up losing her arm in the Newcastle Incident. In the Critical Mass arc, John manages to free her and several other children's souls from Hell. Some versions of Johnstantine don't include this arc so that John's guilt over Astra is a constant in his life.

Either way, we purposefully left it ambiguous whether John and Astra are in Heaven, Hell, or something in between. What matters was allegorizing that forgiveness. We also didn't want Astra's arm to be "cured"- instead fully committing to her being an amputee. It didn't feel right to imply that she's an amputee in Hell but she gets her arm back in Heaven- especially when we're responding to the ableist ending of Dead In America. The disabled children John wronged forgiving him because "they're cured now" felt thematically hollow and ableist.

So!! I wanted this send off to feel as Mike Flanagan-core as possible. Which meant we needed a MONOLOGUE

John's speech is inspired by the poem "Good Bones" by Maggie Smith. I took the "realtor" angle and reframed it to fit John's silver tongue conman character. So it morphed to being about protecting kids from how cruel we know the world to be.

Speaking of over-protecting-! Yeah that's right, we are pulling an Uno reverse on that canon "curing Noah" ending. While I get that it wasn't directly John who "cured" Noah (it was Clarice), I tried to keep some essence of it by reframing it as John being so protective of Noah that he thinks he can change who his son is for the "better". But then John recognizes how ableist he's being to who Noah is.

In canon, from Hellblazer 2019 to Dead in America, Noah's disability is treated as an inconvenience to overcome. Noah's disability is the unintended result of John's magical shenanigans, so curing it is part of John's redemption. Instead we have it so that John's growth ends with leaving Noah the way he is. I even made a nod to the "Making things easier? Simpler? Why not?" line from canon but reframed it as a flaw on John's part.

For those not in the know, Noah's situation is that he lost his voice as a very young boy when his mom was attacked by a demonic entity. His mom has been in a coma ever since, and Noah steadfastly visits her "at least twice a week". Noah lived most of his life having to both hope but grieve his only parent for so long. This made it feel all the more fitting that he should be the one to send off John at the end. He's used to sitting by his mom, ready to say goodbye any day now.

Like John, Noah's placement in our story is ambiguous too. Afterwards Noah's left to his own devices, he wants to make it back home, and he's still a very vulnerable kid at the end of the day. Not everything is wrapped up neatly, and I don't think it should be. John's prepared him as best as he can, intentionally or not. It's all a part of letting go and being worried for their safety regardless.

[spoilers for Midnight Mass]

To bring the Flanagan vibes together, we pulled from Riley's death scene in Midnight Mass. Riley is so John-coded that I swear there's a hidden perfect John Constantine movie somewhere inside this series. Riley spends the whole series haunted by the young woman he accidentally killed in a drunken car accident. But when he meets his end, the young woman is there to welcome him sweetly. It's SO INTENSE haha. I've had a Johnstantine death scene saved in my pocket ever since, so I refitted it for Dead in America. We made Noah and Astra parallels of each other.

Despite being called "Dead in America" to hype up the death of its hero, John's send off never landed for me. I get that cape comic characters never truly stay dead, (especially when they make tons of money for the company) but I was hoping for an ending that at least felt emotionally final and convincing. Something that brought everything about John Constantine full circle. In canon, it's a bunch of events that accumulate into a larger event where John just happens to get the short end of the stick and rot away. He's sent off into the ocean by Swamp Thing, his new friend that he barely got to know (Nat), and his son he barely connected with (Noah) are just there.

This is me trying to visually express "Forgiveness is warm. Like a tear on a cheek" from Nell's speech in Flanagan's Haunting of Hill House. I didn't want it to have words. I Uno-reversed Flanagan's obsession with monologues you see.

Dead In America acts self aware about how anti-climatic and unsatisfying it is, but that doesn't magically make it good- y'know what I mean? I wanted an ending that actually said something about parenthood, being buried by your children, worrying if you prepared them enough to survive, worrying that they've emulated the worst parts of you, or that you've become the worst parts of your own parents. Something that called back to John's origin story as a guy who messed up and screwed over the life of an innocent kid. Dealing with having his own kid should be this ending piece to that tragedy. So here's what it looks like if Dead in America bothered.

A Father's Farewell: The End Of The Road.

Our take on Hellblazer: Dead In America's ending, focusing in on John's relationship with Noah, legacy, and parenthood.

[rizzoreads88]

✨People need to realllyyyy learn the difference between the words THOUGHT and PLANNED. ✨

🦇In Azriel bonus chapters he never says he hasn’t THOUGHT further then his fantasies about Elain he says he hasn’t PLANNED further. Since some people like to act like these words are the same let’s look at the actual definition.

(Real life example of what this looks like : before I started dating my husband I liked him so much I thought about him all the time. But I never once planned to actually make a move or planned to be with him because I was way too shy lol and I thought he was out of my league at the time.Did that take away from how much I liked him? Nope. Did that take away from how much I thought about him? Nope. And here we are years later having just celebrated our 10 year wedding anniversary in September)

🌸why would Azriel even be making plans for Elain yet? They are still friends at the moment that happen to be romantically interested in each other yet she is seemingly off limits. She has a mate. Rhysand reinforces this idea that she is off limits to Azriel. So why would he be making any sort of plans just to hurt himself even more feeling she is truly off limits?

🦇Now let’s look at the context of when this is said. When Azriel is talking to Rhysand he’s extremely frustrated. He’s been thinking about Elain for however long and they both made a move on each other and Rhysand stops it right before hand. Rhysand knows Azriel and Elain are interested in each other. He’s also been w Feyre as she’s talked about them a few times and he asks her not to get involved. He was there when Elain told Graysen she didn’t care about the mate bond. Everyone knows Elain is uncomfortable around Lucien. Rhysand knows Elain was about to kiss Azriel too. Not to mention Azriel has moved on from Mor a while ago and has found someone he likes that likes him back and yet again he cannot do anything about it. He sees Cassian and Rhysand with the woman they want but Azriel cannot even kiss the woman HE WANTS that wants him back…. I think we can all understand why he’s frustrated. A lot of what he’s saying is coming from frustration. Remember when Cassian was frustrated and said he didn’t ask to be shackled to Nesta? Do you think he actually meant he didn’t want to be shackled to her or was he just frustrated? Remember when Rowan told Aelin she would be better off dead and punched her in the face? Do you think he truly meant that? Or was he just speaking out of frustration? We know Azriel feels deeper for Elain. We are shown this in his bonus chapter as well…

🌸In Azriels bonus chapter we learn he thinks about Elain daily, he actually loses sleep over her. He saved her Soltice gift and looks at it every night, his razor sharp thoughts go quiet around her, he can read her without his shadows, he has a physical reaction to Eluciens mating bond and seeing her around Lucien, he questions his religion over Elain.. then days later when he’s in training around everyone he’s still upset over Elain… in acosf when cassian mentions elain and nesta fought Azriel has a reaction to it when elain is mentioned, in acosf when Nesta insults Elains personality azriel has another reaction, his shadows get ready to physically attack nesta for insulting elains personality…

🦇You do not feel all these things, do all these things, Be willing to die to get to them, then carry them while your bleeding out if you don’t care for someone. If it’s “just lust” Azriel would have tried to make a move on her long ago and left it at that. “Well it’s just crush” and what’s a crush? It’s when you like someone you are attracted too.

🦇🌸“Well he doesn’t mention having any sort of feelings for elain to rhysand in the bonus chapter” My brethren… it’s a bonus chapter. We are not going to get love or deep feelings confessions in a bonus chapter. Bonus chapters are hints at what’s in the books and hints at what’s to come. Just like in Nessians bonus chapter Cassian wasn’t professing his love to Nesta, he wasn’t thinking about how deeply he cares for her either. It was a interaction between them to show the attraction, connection and tension they had. We didn’t get their true feelings about each other until multiple books later. So obviously SJM is saving all of this for Elriels book too if they get one.

And I’m just going to end it with this. Cassian had thoughts of being jealous of rhysand and feyre and what they had too before anything happened with him and nesta… he was frustrated with how things were w nesta too before acosf and yet no one was like “oh Cassian only wants nesta because she a Archeron sister he just feels entitled to her and doesn’t really care about her”… but when azriel is jealous suddenly it’s bc he’s a desperate incel who feels entitled to women and only wants to sleep w them? Funny how that works.