#but sometimes it just feels right to let them go i guess

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 6

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5

In the next letter, Eddie makes no comment about their differing opinions. Chrissy knew he wouldn’t. She doesn’t know Eddie, not really, but he’s never seemed like the kind of guy who’d stop talking to someone over such shallow, small differences, no matter how he comes off in his little cafeteria rants.

       Secret Admirer,

       You’re enough, just the way you are, brown eyes and all. I bet they’re real pretty. I could look into them for hours, mesmerized by every color differentiation, spend days counting every one of your eye lashes.

       Just say the word—I’ll pick you up in my van and we can go to the drive-in and hold hands the whole time. I’ll wear my silver jewelry, and you can wear gold. I bet your hands would look real pretty wrapped up in mine.

       I’ll be a gentleman, sweetheart, I swear.

       Only the best for you.

       Yours,

       Eddie

       P.S. Romantic meeting spot. I can’t wait to put this note right next to your heart. Next time maybe I can put my letter in Moby Dick. After all, you’re my white whale, baby, I’m always looking for you.

She likes Eddie, really she does, but the way Steve blushes as he hands the letter to her is ridiculous. The guy’s not exactly smooth, or suave, or any of the things that should leave Steve all hot and bothered.

Still, she dutifully helps him write his reply:

       Eddie —

       Maybe someday, we’ll get to go to that movie. When we do, you don’t have to be a gentleman at all—I’m easy, if it’s for you, and it would be such a waste not to make use of all that space in your van.

       I don’t have any rings, but if I did, I think I’d want one of yours. That way, whenever I look down at them, I’d be reminded of you.

       How was your day? All I want to do is ask and hear your reply.

       Yours, always

       Your Secret Admirer

       P.S. I’ll search the seas for you.

“I know he’s your friend, but I just don’t get it,” Chrissy says to Jeff, walking close enough to his side that their shoulders brush. “The guy looks like a mangy poodle, and he’s not exactly Shakespeare.”

Jeff snorts. “Hey, he’s at least a cute mangy poodle,” he replies, bumping their shoulders purposefully this time.

“I guess if you’re into that sort of thing,” she mutters, and somehow, Steve is. It still shocks her, sometimes, when she thinks about it too much.

“The heart wants what it wants,” Jeff says, sounding wise, but when she glances at him, he’s grinning, eyebrows jumping up and down at her like this is all just some joke.

She scoffs, “I just wish what Steve wanted wasn’t leading toward a broken heart.”

Jeff’s expression drops at that, mouth pursing. He’s quiet all the way to Eddie’s locker. She slips Steve’s letter between the slats and keeps walking, only stopping when she realizes Jeff’s no longer beside her. When she turns around, he’s staring at Eddie’s closed locker like it holds the answers to the universe.

“I’m not so sure about that,” he says, finally turning back toward her and catching back up with quick strides.

Chrissy doesn’t respond, at a loss for what to say. She can’t see it, but for all the letters she’s helped write, her and Eddie aren’t friends. She doesn’t know him as well as Jeff, who’s been by his side for years, or even as well as Steve, who watches him every chance he can get.

“Yeah, maybe,” she replies, unwilling to let any hope build, not when it’s Steve’s heart on the line. “Want a ride home?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Jeff replies.

And when he slides into her passenger seat, she feels a little less alone.

The letters keep coming, and Steve keeps blushing and pushing them across the table at her.

       Secret Admirer,

       Oh, a flirty one, aren’t you? I like it. But maybe I’m shy, did you ever think about that? Maybe I want to walk you to your door, slide one of my rings on your finger, and give you a little kiss. You can pick the ring, baby—I’ll even resize it to fit you just right.

       My days are always brighter when I hear from you. I go to the quarry on Wednesday’s to peddle my wares, but all I want to do is go home and play my guitar (my sweetheart). I’m writing a new song and I really want to get it down by next week’s practice, but I’m stuck on a riff I just can’t get right.

       Do you play any instruments?

       Sincerely,

       Eddie

       P.S. You’re going to make me swoon, babygirl.

And Steve keeps responding using Chrissy’s pen and Chrissy’s brain, and his own bleeding heart.

       Eddie —

       My mom made me take piano lessons when I was little, but my dad refused to keep paying for them. I didn’t want to at first, but I really liked it. Maybe I’ll brush up my skills so I can play a song for you. Any requests?

       Does your band play anywhere? I remember you from the middle school talent show, are you still going by Corroded Coffin? I bet you look hot when you play—I want to see it, someday. Your rings would glint under show lights, hypnotizing the entire audience. Especially me.

       Did you figure out your riff? I’m waiting with bated breath.

       Sincerely,

       Your Secret Admirer

       P.S. leave this one in The Taming of the Shrew.

She wants to build a cage and lock him inside, or shake him and shake him until he sees what a risk he’s taking. Jeff might not see it, his priorities are different. But her first concern is Steve, always will be Steve, whose heart isn’t the only thing on the line. And she can feel it coming—the moment, inevitably, when this whole thing falls to pieces.

       Secret Admirer,

       Have you read this play? It’s not the romantic story you think it is. Since you’re already holding the book, why not check it out? I promise not to look at the checkout card to figure out who you are (I say, unrepentantly lying).

       My band actually just got our first gig at the Hideout. It’s next Tuesday, and you should come! I would love to see you in the audience, cheering me on. I’ve been trying to respect your boundaries, but darling, I want to see you. Will you come? Please?

       Thinking of you, always,

       Eddie

Chrissy doesn’t want to stand by and watch Steve Harrington break.

*** 

Part of Eddie wonders if he won’t get another letter—if she’ll just show up at the Hideout next Tuesday with a smile. Still, when he hasn’t received an answer for a couple days, he checks if anyone’s checked out The Taming of the Shrew, but no, it’s still there, nestled on its shelf in the library, Eddie’s damning letter no longer inside.

He’s starting to wonder if he made a terrible mistake.

It’s happenstance, the way he finds out. He could have just as easily not forgotten his campaign notes. He could have been prepared, and not left all his little sheep moaning and groaning about what amounts to a five minute delay, if he’s quick about it.

He could have, but he didn’t.

Instead, Eddie stands at the end of the hall, transfixed, as he watches Chrissy Cunningham’s distinctive high ponytail sway back and forth as she walks away. From his locker. Where he just saw her slip something in.

She’s well out of sight before Eddie walks up to the looming hunk of metal on shaky legs. It takes three tries to get it open, and there, for all and sundry to see, is an envelope with his name written in a familiar scrawl.

He doesn’t open it.

“What took so long?” Doug gripes as Eddie shuffles back into the room, clutching his notebook to his chest.

Eddie walks slowly to his throne without replying, eyes still unfocused and fixed on the swishing of Chrissy’s hair.

“Are you okay?” Jeff asks.

Eddie shakes the thoughts out of his head, leans back on his throne, and smiles. “Sometimes a quester is besieged on his travels and must defeat a mighty foe before he can return from whence he came.” He says it with all the gravitas of his dungeon master voice.

Doug laughs, Gareth rolls his eyes, but Jeff’s eyes are narrowed on his face for the next ten minutes until he gets sucked into the campaign. And Eddie? Eddie’s heart isn’t in it. No matter how determined he is to put it out of his mind, it keeps sticking to his neurons.

Because Chrissy? She’s nice, sure. And pretty, definitely. Her hair’s…nice? Bouncy? It’s probably soft. And yeah, she’s a jock, but she’s not like most of them—too kind to give a kid a swirly or call any of the other girls fat.

Which brings him to the King of the jocks, Steve Harrington, whose name is practically branded on Chrissy’s shoulders by this point, whose arm is pretty much super-glued around her waist. Steve, with his perfect hair, and long eyelashes, and those big brown eyes, and all those muscles.

Something too squirmy to be hatred sinks in his gut. Jealousy, maybe? Because how could someone like him compete with King Steve for a lady’s hand, love notes or no?

He’s distracted for the rest of the campaign, says half-hearted goodbyes to the boys before finally closing the van door on them and driving away.

When he opens the letter in the safety of his bedroom, it’s shorter than usual:

  Eddie —

  There’s nothing more I want than to see you up on that stage, rocking out, in your element, but I’m just not ready. I hope you’ll forgive me.

  Yours,

  Your Secret Admirer

  P.S. If you still want to respond, I’ll look in the big print edition of The Hobbit.

He goes over the words again and again, finger running along the lines of each character, trying to picture Chrissy pouring over them with her pen.  He loves all the words in all the letters, wants to carve them all on his skin, helplessly charmed by each vulnerability shared.

He can’t quite make the words fit the girl.

Eddie still drops his next reply in the big print edition of The Hobbit the next morning. He watches Chrissy all day. He’s surprised, somehow, when she meets his eyes once across the insurmountable distances between them in the lunchroom. She ducks her head immediately and blushes, even with Harrington’s arm wrapped around her shoulders.

There isn’t another note by the end of the day.

“So, wait,” Gareth says, stoned out of his mind and sprawled out on Eddie’s bed after the hell they call education finally released them. “You’re saying Chrissy has been leaving you all those notes?”

Eddie spins around in his desk chair, but it’s not one of those fancy wheeled ones that Harrington probably has, so he’s forced to turn and straddle the back, letting his head hang over the headrest as he groans.

“For the last time, yes!” he says, more to the little bits of his carpet that he can see than to Gareth himself. “It’s Chrissy!”

Gareth takes another hit, blowing smoke toward Eddie’s ceiling to swirl around and join the rest of the stains up there. “Are you sure it wasn’t just someone who looked like her? How close to her were you?”

Eddie groans again, shuffles off his uncomfortable chair to flop beside Gareth and steal his joint back. “She was wearing a cheerleading uniform, man,” he says before taking a puff and letting all the smoke out with his next words. “And no one else on the team has that color hair.”

Gareth hums, twisting on his side to burrow his head into Eddie’s only pillow. “What is that color even? Like, blond but with a weird red in it? What’s it called, bluh-red?”

He laughs like that’s the funniest joke in the world, so Eddie doesn’t hand back the joint, just pulls on it until he’s down to the quick and ashes it on his nightstand as Gareth whines.

“It’s strawberry blond, you idiot.”

Gareth wrinkles his nose at that. “That’s a stupid name.”

Eddie smacks his hand out, lets it hit Gareth’s arm with a solid thwack. “You’re supposed to be helping me!”

“With what?” Gareth replies, rolling away from Eddie when he goes to hit him again. He ends up on Eddie’s floor, fall cushioned by all of his dirty clothes scattered about. “Just like, talk to her?”

“Chrissy Cunningham?” Eddie demands. Gareth doesn’t seem to be understanding the severity of the situation. “Whose head cheerleader and, oh yeah, dating Steve Harrington?”

“So what? The guy’s a douche,” Gareth replies.

Instead of getting back up on the bed, he snuggles further into Eddie’s dirty clothes, rolling around like a pig in a mud puddle until he’s got enough of Eddie’s discarded shirts on him to function as a makeshift blanket.

Harrington is a douche. He’s got to spend an obscene amount of time on his hair in the morning, and he hangs out with those hyenas on the basketball team all the time, and he’s Steve Harrington. Rich kid, lady killer, King Steve Harrington.

Maybe all Chrissy really wants is an excuse to leave him. If that’s what his lady wants, he will provide.

*** 

Steve’s been sitting on Eddie’s letter for a few days now, at a loss for what to say. He puts it under his pillow at night, hoping the perfect answer will come to him in his dreams. He finds himself unfolding it and refolding it again and again, wondering if the words will change.

  Darling,

  If you’re not ready, that’s okay. But the heart wants what it wants, and you can’t blame me for trying, can you? Even still, I’ll be singing just for you.

  Of course I still want your letters, never doubt that. They’re still, always, forever, the best part of my day.

  Always,

  Eddie

  P.S. Excellent choice in hiding places, have you read it?

It’s just, a big part of him had expected Steve’s dismissal of meeting up would end this thing they have. He’d braced for it, and instead, Eddie was sweet.

And Steve can’t give him what he wants, isn’t what he wants, so he keeps the letter with him and stews on it, Chrissy sending him worried looks when she thinks he’s not paying attention.

No matter how lost in thought he is, a part of him is always tuned into Eddie’s presence, so he sees him coming before Chrissy does.

“Miss Cunningham,” Eddie says, leaning forward like a gallant knight as he takes her small hand in one of his own. She jumps, eyes darting up from her lunch to meet Eddie’s own. “Can I have this dance?”

The rest of the lunch table titters. It might have been charming, if they were at a dance, or anywhere aside from shoehorned to the side of the table with all of Steve’s shitty friends laughing.

It might have been charming if Eddie’d looked at Steve at all.

Chrissy’s sure looking at him, though—eyes all wide in her face as she shifts her gaze back and forth from Steve sitting across from her to Eddie crouched at her side.

“Um—” is all she gets out before Jason stands from the far end of the table and starts taking threatening steps forward.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Freak?” Jason demands, chin raised.

Steve’s about ready to stand, insert himself in the whole thing, but then Eddie’s lips graze Chrissy’s hand.

Jason stumbles back like he’s been shot. Eddie grins against Chrissy’s skin, turns his gaze away from Jason, and lands on Steve. He can almost feel it on his own skin as Eddie puckers his lips again and presses another kiss to Chrissy’s skin, this time to the smooth surface of her wrist.

He never looks away from Steve.

“Um!” Chrissy says again.

Only then does Eddie break eye contact with him. He drops Chrissy’s hand, placing it gently back to the table, says, “until next time, mi amore,” and saunters away, continuing until he’s out of the cafeteria entirely.

Steve doesn’t look away until the door swings shut and blocks his view of Eddie entirely.

“What was that, Chrissy?” Jason demands. He’s moved closer while Steve was distracted, absolutely towering over her, looking more like a beleaguered father than an ex. “First Harrington, and now the Freak?”

Steve wants to defend himself, defend Eddie, defend Chrissy. But despite what Jason clearly thinks, she’s never needed defending, so he asks, “do you want to get out of here?”

“God, yes,” Chrissy sighs.

They leave their lunches uneaten and their tables unbussed, hustling out the same doors Eddie’d just sauntered through, leaving a scolding Jason in their wake. Something about devil worship and blaspheming?

Steve’s not exactly the church-going type; he’s just glad when the doors swing shut and cut off Jason’s little speech.

“What was that?” Chrissy asks in a whisper despite the deserted corridor.

“Jason?” Steve asks at his normal volume. “I don’t know, he’s always been a bit like that, hasn’t he?”

“Not Jason,” Chrissy snaps, slapping at Steve’s arm, taking any sting out of the motion by wrapping her arm in his after and reeling him right back in. “Eddie!”

Steve, who had sort of been hoping that he could pretend the whole thing had been a vivid hallucination, has nothing to say.

“Do you think he knows?” she asks, voice quiet again as she looks furtively around the deserted halls, for random passerby’s or even Eddie himself.

“About you?” Steve asks, stomach sinking even further when he continues, “or about me?”

Chrissy stumbles, eyes going impossibly wider at the thought. She pulls him into an abandoned classroom and pushes him into one of the uncomfortable chairs. She sits in front of him, looking across the desk between them like he’s a sad woodland creature she’d just hit with her car.

“He can’t know about you,” she says. “He was flirting with me.”

Steve grimaces. Chrissy’s too nice, always thinking the best in people like she doesn’t have Jason Carver as living, breathing proof that sometimes, beyond all expectations, people can suck.

“He could be fucking with me. Eddie seems like the type to play with his food.” Steve stares down at the grooves of the desk he’s seated in. Someone had carved FUCK on it in big, bold letters. Steve’s never agreed with a sentiment more. “Do you think Jeff told him?”

Chrissy shakes her head so hard that her ponytail whacks her in the face. “No way, he promised!” she reminds him.

Jeff seems like a good guy, but Steve’s not sure how far that goes. He doesn’t have the wherewithal to trust like that, not with this.

“Well, what do we do?” Steve asks. “Should you just flirt back next time?”

Chrissy bites her lip, worrying at the dry skin there until Steve taps her chin in reminder, and she puts her teeth back in her mouth.

“Maybe it won’t happen again?”

Steve sighs, thunking his head down against the desk. “Yeah, maybe,” he murmurs into the wood, Chrissy’s hand patting his shoulder a paltry consolation to the nightmare he’s found himself in.

*** 

It happens again.

“Carry your books, my lady?” Eddie asks. He’s already got his hands out expectantly, but he’s too much of a gentleman to make a move without her say-so.

She watches his hopeful grin for a moment before sliding her pile of books into his awaiting arms. Once secured, he does an endearing little fist bump before taking up residence at her side like it's his birthright.

“What are you doing, Eddie?” she asks.

“What do you mean?” he asks, almost sounding clueless enough to convince her, if it wasn’t for that little smirk on his lips.

Everyone in the hallways are giving them a wide berth, clearly shocked by the unexpected pair. It’s nice, almost, to be given so much space. But—

But.

“You know I’m with Steve, right?” Chrissy asks.

Eddie grimaces, like just hearing Steve’s name is enough to sour his mood. “What, is it illegal to walk a pretty girl to class now?” he asks.

Chrissy’s own mood sinks to the pits, and she sighs, disappointed. “No,” she replies before letting the silence between them linger uncomfortably.

Eddie’s fidgeting with her books, anxious fingers fluttering against the loose pages of one of her notebooks, and his eyes dart toward her every couple of seconds.

“Chrissy—”

“You know, for someone who spends so much time ranting about the status quo, you sure can’t seem to look past skin deep.”

Eddie jerks like she struck him. Chrissy would feel bad if she wasn’t thinking about having to tell her best friend about this in a couple hours. “I see you,” he murmurs, shifting on his feet and not meeting her gaze as he holds out her books for her to take.

When Chrissy sighs, he flinches again. “I don’t think you do,” she says, not sticking around to see how it lands.

She’s got class to get to, and a best friend’s heart to break.

Chrissy snags Steve’s hand before he can walk through the cafeteria’s swinging doors and pulls him the other way. They settle into the same, abandoned classroom in the same, abandoned seats.

“It happened again,” she says, not letting go of Steve’s hand.

He’s still got a bit of polish clinging to his nails, the chipped yellow making him look almost jaundiced with how patchy it is. She uses her own fingernail to chip at it, ignoring the sunshine yellow flakes dropping down to the empty desk separating them.

Steve doesn’t ask what happened again; he doesn’t need to.

“Did you flirt back?” he asks.

Chrissy bites her lip. “I let him carry my books.”

She hadn’t flirted, is the thing, but she hadn’t gotten rid of him either. She knew, no matter how heartbroken he looks across from her right now, he wouldn’t have wanted her to.

“Okay,” he says, like it really is, like he means it. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me!” she snaps, snatching her hands back for a second before the bewildered look on his face has her reaching out again. “What are you thanking me for?”

Steve smiles—it’s small, and sad, and he’s beaming it right into her soul. “For keeping me safe.”

Chrissy groans, dropping her head onto their clasped hands and just keeps groaning. He means it—of course he does. If there’s one thing she’s learned since this whole thing started, it’s that Steve Harrington is somehow, inexplicably, too nice for his own good.

“I love you, you know,” she says, lips brushing against his skin with every word.

She’s been thinking it since he’d called her his best friend in that letter, since he’d said it and she hadn’t said it back. It sits unsaid behind her teeth every time he smiles, or frowns, or anything at all. He’s just too dang easy to love.

When he doesn’t reply, she forces herself to raise her tired head and get a look at his face. His eyes are big and round, mouth hanging open far enough that she’s tempted to close it for him, and there’s a damning sheen to his eyes that makes her own water.

“Really?” he asks, voice cracking. “You do?”

“Of course,” she replies, the way he always does to her, no matter what she asks for.

He smiles again, and it’s big this time, happy and watery around the edges as he says, “love you, too,” leaving the “I” out of the confession like that’ll somehow make the whole thing less real.

They’re smiling at each other like damn fools when Steve’s stomach growls and they dissolve into giggles.

“Buy me lunch?” she asks.

“Of course.” He jumps up from the desk and holds out his hand for her, an unknowing mirror of Eddie this morning.

She doesn’t put her books into his arms, just takes his hand.

PART 7

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Family Matters

Inspired by this post; in the same universe as this

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Thor Odinson

Summary: your new husband's brother surprises you with a visit.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The doorbell rings again and you barrel so quickly down the stairs, you nearly topple off the bottom step. You catch your breath and grab the post at the bottom of the banister to steady yourself. It’s a splendid house but you told Loki it’s too big for just the two of you. He didn’t like that so you didn’t mention it again, even though it feels empty with how much he’s not around. 

You let those worries slake off of you and hurry to the door. It could be another surprise! Loki hates leaving you for so long so he tries to fill the void with gifts. Sometimes, they make you feel better, other times, you’re just sad. You’d rather have him there. 

It’s not a courier but a familiar face. Your brother-in-law. It’s official as of one month ago. You’re family. 

“Oh, hi,” you deflate, trying not to show your disappointment. You’re not upset it’s him, you just hate being the one to say, “Loki’s not in.” 

Thor smiles. He’s rarely unhappy. “Ah, that’s unfortunate. Where is off to, then?” 

“Work,” you grumble the repetitive explanation. “Important project or something.” 

“Important enough to leave you alone?” He wonders. 

“I... guess,” you try not to mope. Loki says it make you look childish. 

“Well, I am much in the same boat. Alone,” he laughs hollowly. 

“Oh, yes, I... how are you doing?” You ask. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for coming to the wedding. Really, I know it must’ve been difficult.” 

“I couldn’t miss my brother’s special day,” he shakes his head. “It was a day for love. Wasn’t your fault mine decided to leave...” 

Your heart breaks for him. The day you were married, Frigga told you what happened. A hug fight right after your rehearsal dinner. Jane left before the morning. Despite all that, Thor didn’t show a hint of grief at the wedding. 

“It’s too bad. I liked Jane.” 

“Needless to say, I did too,” he smiles thinly. “Well, I hope I didn’t disturb you very much. I suppose I could come calling tomorrow and hope my brother isn’t too busy for the likes of me.” 

Your heart rents for him. Here you are, a new marriage, a husband to long for, and he lost his girlfriend of five years. You don’t have much else going on, it would be nice to have someone there. 

“Did you wanna hang around for a bit?” You ask. “Not much going on but... this place is eerie when you’re all alone.” 

“Hm, did Loki say when he would return? Wouldn’t mind waiting around a bit,” he suggests. 

“I hope soon but he didn’t say,” you shrug. “Yesterday he wasn’t home until midnight.” 

“Midnight? He would make you wait so long? A lovely young wife like you?” He scoffs. “Well, that is just terrible. I will not commit the same crime as my brother. I’d love to come in.” 

“Alright,” you smile. “I... we could put something on? I was going to watch the new season of the true crime show.” 

“Ha,” he enters as you step back to let you through. “That wouldn’t help being alone, would it?” 

“I guess not,” you giggle. “We could watch something else. A comedy. I’ve been rewatching Friends. For the hundredth time.” 

“Whatever you like,” he slips his shoes off and puts them on the mat. “The only words a woman like you needs to hear, eh?” 

You laugh again, “do you want snacks? I got some caramel corn and gummy bears.” 

“My brother let you bring those in his house?” He wonders. 

“It’s our house,” you face him with a pout as you stand in the broad archway to the front room. 

“Yes, you are correct. My apologies,” he follows. “You know, he only hates those sugary treats because he is weak to them. Be sure to hide them well or you might find some missing.” 

“No, he never wants any,” you continue into the front room. 

“So he wants you to believe,” Thor counters. 

“How about drinks? We got a bunch of wine from the wedding. Some scotch?” 

“I only really indulge in lager and I'm not of the mood for it,” he assures. “I could help with the snacks.” 

“No, no, sit,” you grab the remote and hold it out to him. “Find something to watch. I’m so indecisive I just flick through the menu for an hour.” 

“I will do my best,” he accepts it. His hand dwarfs you own as his fingers brush across yours. Loki’s hands are long, but not as thick. 

You push your shoulders up and spin around to flit off to the kitchen. You scurry away and slide into the kitchen. You go to the cupboard and take down the bag of caramel corn. You pour some in a bowl then grab the package of gummy bears and a box of cream cookies. 

As you come back to the living room, Thor leans forward to set the down the remote. You put the treats on the glass table and sit on the other end of the couch. You only realise then how awkward it is. You’ve never really been alone with him. 

“Thank you. So sweet of you to have me,” he says as he twines his fingers together. “I feel as if everyone has been avoiding me since Jane. I fear I might be a bit... melancholy.” 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you glance at the TV as it plays an intro to a show you don’t know, “well, how can anyone blame you? You’re going through so much.” 

“I’m an adult, these things happen,” he says. 

“Sure, they do, but I mean, it still hurts. It’s not easy,” you insist. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.” 

“Ugh,” he puts his elbows on his legs and cradles his head. “I don’t mean to bring my dark cloud in here.” He rubs his temple. “Truly, I think I’ve been trying to outrun it but... what else can I think of with only an empty home to go to?” 

“Oh, Thor,” you sidle closer on the cushions. You gently touch his arm. His bicep is a lot bigger against your hand. “It’s okay. You can’t hold it in forever. It's good to feel these things. Once you get through that, you can move on and I’m sure you’ll find the right one.” 

He sniffles and you flinch. He quakes against your touch and your chest knots. You never imagined him crying. Especially not a man his size. You don’t know what else to do but comfort him. You rub his shoulder and he huddles over further and wipes his face. 

His long blond locks conceal his tears as he mops his sadness away with his knuckles. You hum and get even closer, your hand trailing up his back. 

“Thor, I'm sorry. It feels so cruel, I know. Especially the timing of it--” 

He startles you as he leans against you. You let out an ‘oop’ as he turns to embrace you, curling his shoulders and hunching to put his head on your shoulder. You have no choice but to let him. 

“Oh, it’s been awful,” he snivels. “I’ve been so lonely.” 

“Shhh, let it out, that’s okay,” you rub his back and stare at the wall. You certainly didn’t expect the night to go like this. 

He holds you tight as he cries against you, his body heaving. You know Loki isn’t the best for these sorts of things so you’re happy at least he trusts you enough to listen. That’s about as much as you can do. 

“You won’t believe how cruel she was,” Thor rasps. “She just yelled and yelled. She shoved me and—she just kept accusing me.” 

“Accusing you? Of what?” 

He’s quiet for a moment. He lifts his head to look at you, his arm across your back. “Of wanting another.” 

“Oh?” You blink in surprise. 

“I told her no, no, I did not, but she kept saying “I see it! I see it in your face!” And I swore to her, no, no,” He wipes his face with his other hand, “but now I’m afraid she might have been right.” 

“She... who?” You frown. 

His arm wraps around you, his fingers dipping into your side and in a moment, the couch shifts beneath you. You cannot resist as surprise paralyses you. Thor lifts you easily onto his lap, turning you and sliding you to sit on his thighs. 

“Woah, uh, whaat--” You press your hand to his chest. “Please, Thor, you’re emotional--” 

“She was right, kitten, you are so soft, so gentle, and I could not look away. She caught me--” 

“No, no, you can’t-- Loki--” 

“Loki leaves you alone. He would rather work than stay and adore his precious wife,” He cups your chin and forces you to look at him. “He would abandon you...” he leans in as his eyes fall to your lips, “and leave you unkissed.” 

You try to pull back but you’re trapped in his embrace. He squeezes you close and crushes his lips to yours. You squeal and struggle against him, finally turning your head so his mouth smears across your cheek. 

“Untouched,” his hand trails down your neck and you clasp onto two of his fingers, straining to keep him from going lower. “Unloved--” 

“Thor, stop, let me go--” 

He leans over so your back is on the cushion, his arm beneath you as your legs are folded up over his. He is on his side next to you. His large hand comes back to frame your face and he squeezes to keep you from squirming. You tug as his shirt and whine. 

“Thor, please, stop. We can forget--” 

“I can’t forget,” he growls and nuzzles your nose. You whimper and push against his chest again. He is stone, he is unmoving, and you know you cannot stop him. “I will never forget how you feel against me, kitten.” 

[prettyboykatsuki]

kaiser with a kind motherly manager who says "you did great!" or "good job!" after a successful interview/press appearance and it sounds like she's praising a dog who just learned a new trick. kind of baby talking him just a little without realizing and he gets so bricked up and immediately bothered by it that he like. speed walks out of the room.

its so bad for him KSDHFJ

its like. the important part of this is that he really kind of rejects the relationship at first i think. kaiser is such a huge pain to deal with and his agency has bounced him through like several diff managers and they've all been driven completely insane by him - men and women. and so they take a different approach and instead of giving someone more professional, they have u step up to the plate

and you're like. an impenetrable wall. you have some experience with kids (maybe your own, maybe just childcare) and it's enough that it makes you this like source of complete Calm. its so easy for people to get annoyed with kaiser

its on purpose too. he knows exactly what buttons to push to make people angry and it's rare someone can get under his skin very sincerely. he figures you'll be just like the rest of them and give up on trying to be his friend or reason with him eventually. they all do.

but. But. you're Maternal in a way that makes kaiser feel like a kid throwing a tantrum any time he does or says things. no matter what kind of insults or berating he does you're just Firm. basically gentle parenting him. AND you're persistent about him.

one time, very much joking, kaiser does something you ask the first time and you practically Beam at him. and maybe just as a reaction, you sort of ruffle his hair and smile with your eyes crinkled and go "see? wouldn't it be nice if you could be a good boy like this all the time?"

instant hard-on. fuck fuck fuck fuck his life fuck everything. thankfully you dont notice but he does and he thinks about ending it all.

and then. subconsciously. he does get just the SLIGHTEST bit more agreeable. just a little tiny bit. and everytime he acts half decent you do the thing again. you really are very Motherly. you're an older woman so he guesses it makes sense but sometimes the way you tell him you'll treat him to dinner after a good match makes him feel the full extent of it. its very mother and her troubled son and he is Less Against that then he should be. the lines are sooooo blurry.

he wants to fight it so bad and he tries so hard but he has a wet dream about you in a way that makes him feel like he's regressed. if he was normal he could pass it off as a crush but the dream is of you letting him suck your tits while you give him a handjob and he stops being able to deny what it is and it plagues and ruins his life.

i think he comes onto you eventually. and it is genuinely in an attempt to push you away and make you disappointed. but then you flip it on him and give him a sexual favor and pull his pants back up for him afterwards and pat his thigh and he's so panicky and Oh No

its so bad JKDFHFSJKD. its so so bad you ruined him and he also becomes possesive over you in a distinct way. it's so misplaced like he's proving freud very right because you're not his mom. you're not.

but the kind of entitlement and the way you are the object of his sexual desire can only be attributed to some weird mother son shit. mind you not a mommy kink. there's not really a roleplay to it for him. he just kind of blatantly wants you to mother him. and it's so so so bad. he's such a freak

[spaceorphan18]

The other thing I've seen going around today (not here... on other sites) is discussion on when did Colin fall in love and...

Hmmm....

There are a couple of issues I have on this subject.

The first being, why is loving someone as a friend valued less than loving someone in a romantic capacity? It's just a different type of love. And, maybe this is a me thing, but sometimes I get frustrated that friendship is deemed less than romantic love.

(I mean, I could go on a full tangent about Penelope and Eloise, and how their friendship, and their love for each other, was another love story during Season 3 -- and that relationship to Penelope is just as important to her as the one with Colin. As is, Eloise and Colin's familial relationship - which is, again, another form of love.)

anyway, Penelope, we know, had romantic feelings right from the start. but they were childlike, in a way. Colin was a boy (and a person in general) who didn't laugh at her for being awkward. This meant the world to her. It was a childhood crush, that developed and matured into an actual friendship, and developed and matured into romantic love. These are two separate things that happen but are very intertwined for Penelope.

As for Colin - he says to his brothers that his feelings aren't some thunderbolt from the sky, and that they had developed over time. There isn't one point where he was bam! in love. It was always something simmering and taking shape.

And I mean - in Season 1, there was friendly affection there -- they grew up as literal children together. She was always around. They were fixtures in each other's lives, and it probably was a familial caring for her - in the way he cares for Eloise. There there are points in which he shows that she is special to him. He recognizes that she helps him understand himself. And that there's a unique dynamic there - beyond, hey, this girl is my sister's bff.

And then comes Season 2 - and the letters are incredibly important to their development. It starts an intimacy between them that they don't have with other people. It also lets them be open and vulnerable in a way that they aren't able to in person. There's a connection there. And a valuable one at that. And Colin sees her as a friend, and someone important and special in his life. The friendship is very real, and his love for her is there. Even if it is friendship that doesn't mean it's something less than how Penelope feels for him - it's just different.

And then the thing that does separate romantic love from friendship love is sexual desire -- and Colin doesn't really recognize this until they kiss, that he is attracted to her, as well as everything else. It compounds. So, by the time they finish up that carriage ride, there are three types of love going on -- familial, friendship, and romantic love, and Colin understands this enough to be sure in knowing that she's the one for him. (He also knows he has to lock her in, because she could develop all of that with someone else - she almost did - so that's also apart of the proposal, but i digress.)

I guess my long winded point is that it's odd to talk about Colin's love for Penelope in distinct moments, when it's all a spectrum, and overlapping kinds of love. And I mean - I think there's a better conversation to be had about what love is to Colin, how does he define it?

Because I think how we love is different person to person. And letting fictional characters be complex like that is really kind of fascinating (to me).

And I guess - what draws me to Polin (over Saphne and Kanthany) is that it's a love story where the foundation is friendship, and the specialness in that, is absolutely valued first, and romantic love stems from that, instead of vice versa.

But that's just me.

[burningcheese-merchant]

"I'm Sorry" - BurningCheese Short #9

Gonna be traveling somewhere soon, probably won't be back here for a few days. Wanted to leave you all with a story before I go. (I wrote it sometime ago, I've just been waiting for a good time to drop it. I guess now will do haha)

Plan on answering asks and posting BurningCheese kids when I get back (I have almost 100 asks in my inbox and I feel really bad for leaving them there. I'm genuinely sorry to you all, I actually am reading what you send me, I promise I won't leave you hanging forever. I answered a couple today and I'll keep it up soon). In the meantime, eat this short story where we see our favorite couple take an important step together, and Burning Spice take an important step himself

"I'm sorry."

Golden Cheese blinked. "I... Pardon?"

"I'm sorry," Burning Spice said again.

"You're sorry?" she echoed. "Sorry for... what?"

He paused for a long while before he answered. "For Beast-Yeast."

"For Beast-Yeast?" Slowly, she turned to face him, eyeing him critically. "And where is this coming from, exactly?"

"Why does it matter?" Burning Spice asked, keeping his gaze trained on the bustling city far below. "I am sorry. That is all I have to say."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "And... what? You think that means anything? You think one, single apology will change the past? You think it's enough to atone for all of your heinous crimes?"

"No."

"Then what audacity is this? Why even say it?"

"Because I want to," he said. "It's as simple as that."

Another long pause, longer than the last, came and went before Golden Cheese spoke up again. "Why should I even believe you when you say such words?" she asked. "What reason do I have to think you're being sincere?"

"Someone such as I saying it at all ought to be reason enough. You think I'd ever utter something so soft and pathetic to anyone else, for any reason? Even under penalty of death?"

"...Hmph."

A third pause came - shorter than the first two, because Golden Cheese couldn't bring herself to wait any longer than that.

"And what makes you think I forgive you? Or that I would ever even consider doing so?"

"You allowed me into your kingdom," he said, still refusing to look at her. "Into your palace, even. Here we stand together, watching your subjects from afar. You snuck me in so no one would see or notice me. Perhaps you don't forgive me at all... but you've let go enough that you've allowed yourself to do this much. Haven't you?"

"I..."

The fourth pause made itself known, hanging over the two of them as they stared down into the busy streets of the Golden Cheese Kingdom. It showed itself out when, at last, Burning Spice turned to look at Golden Cheese.

"I'm sorry," he told her one more time. His voice was soft. Quiet. In his eyes and on his face were emotions that only he himself would know how to read.

Golden Cheese looked right back at him, her eyebrows knit and mouth set in a slight frown. She said nothing, instead only nodding slowly, tentatively - unsure of how to acknowledge him, but willing to do so nevertheless.

When the fifth pause came, it weighed down on them both terribly, though who felt its burden worse was hard to tell. The silence was thick, tense, awkward. Granting cover to all the words Golden Cheese couldn't bring herself to say. Making up for all the words Burning Spice didn't have left to give.

Everlasting, like the city bathed in gold and neon lights waiting beyond the balcony railing and stretching on endlessly into the horizon.

--------------------------------

I will let you all decide for yourselves what led to this moment, and what happened afterwards.

[lilia-calderus-pet-goat]

Found-Family headcanons for a³'s coven of chaos, part 5: (because they all deserved more time with each other)

(part 4, here) - (part 3, here) - (part 2 - here) - (part 1, here)

Lilia once had a fling with Carmilla, from the lesbian vampire novel. She absent-mindedly mentioned it one time while Billy was browsing 'queer classics' and he looked at her in absolute shock. “What? I wasn't *always* a hermit—” “That's not what I'm shocked a b o u t—”

Lilia is very irresponsible with what she eats, sometimes forgetting food all-together, never checking for expiration dates, etc. (“I don't mind a *lapsed* expiration date-”)

Jen has taken it upon herself to fix that. She won't let her go grocery shopping alone and she won't let her eat whatever. Your girl makes shopping lists and schedules specific meals for every day each week, to make sure her resident scatter-brain stays healthy.

Jen and Alice vent to each other a lot. Mainly because they provide each other with very different, but also always very honest and objective perspectives. Jen reminds Alice to put herself first on occasion and Alice reminds Jen to give others the benefit of the doubt sometimes.

One day, the Kaplans asked to have coffee with the coven, which made Billy incredibly nervous. Mainly because Agatha wasn't making it easy in the slightest.

Sharon managed to save the day, against all odds. She took them to the side for a bit and comforted them, explaining that she herself is just a regular lady, but she's grown to love the others regardless. And so the Kaplans gave the coven a second chance and ended up finding them rather endearing despite their constant quarrels.

Rebecca Kaplan gets a private moment with Agatha. She tells her that she's sorry about Nicholas, and that she almost knows what that feels like, because she almost lost her son. Then there's a pause, and she adds, “... well, not almost, was it?” by herself. Because a mother always knows.

If it was about anything else, Agatha woulf have mocked her. She didn't. She looked at this woman who's lost her son, but can't mourn him, because he's right there with her—and she nodded empatheticaly. There they stood, two mothers of boys who died, filling the void in their hearts with Wanda's son. And they don't love him any less.

“I'm glad he has you ladies in his life. At first I was... Apprehensive, worried, I guess. But at least he has some people who can relate to him more, understand him, mentor him. Because his father and I—he needs more than what we can give him.” — “Well, you're doing something right. You've already given him the most valuable thing. And for that you are his parents, you always will be.”

When Rebecca Kaplan realises Alice is Lorna Wu's daughter she freaks out completely (since we know she was a fan, having gone to her last concert.) She hadn't made the connection before meeting her personally, despite hearing about her a lot from Billy.

The fake car that Agatha distractedly entered in the first episode was built by John Collins (Herb) at Sharon's request, as 'Agnes' had been trying to break into Sharon's car and use it for her crazy episodes. They got worried that she'd get herself hurt, so they made her the fake car to make sure she wouldn't leave her house.

[1toreyouapart]

The Lies We Tell

***FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’T LIKE FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE***

Summary that tells you nothing: Sometimes everything you ever wanted has been right there, within reach, all along.

CW/TW: Angst, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, jealousy, smut, fingering, PinV, pet names, friends with benefits, more to come as I actually get things written out.

Masterlist

The Kiss

Dread settled into his stomach as he checked the time. Again. 9pm. Either she was coming home soon or she would be gone another six hours. Seemed these dates either went wrong fast, or they went well enough for her to go home with them. If she didn’t come home until the middle of the night, the sushi he had ordered and was sitting in the fridge would be a “surprise” lunch tomorrow, as usual. One thing he had learned about her the night they had met was her love of sushi. It was her comfort food. Stressed? She wanted sushi. Sad? Sushi was the answer. Just not feeling well in general? You guessed it, sushi. Unbeknownst to Quinn he had actually started learning how to make it just so he could surprise her with it. Maybe get her in the kitchen with him to make it soon.

She would get so frustrated, but he loved cooking with her. Always so serious in the kitchen, whereas he was always coaxing her into having fun with it. Having fun with him. Quinn had a tendency to take things too seriously sometimes. Making a mess in the kitchen? She hated that. Part of him kind of loved antagonizing her a bit. The way she would look at him as he intentionally spilled the smallest amount of something on the counter. And even after all this time she still hadn’t figured out that was his warning before he would start a full on food fight with her.

Another glance at the clock. 9:20pm. If the date had gone bad early on she would be home in the next 30 minutes. She never went too far from home for the first part of the date. And if she was headed to their place after the date, she always turned location sharing back on with him. Just like he had taught her. Always meet them at the location. Stay close to home in case of emergency, and always let someone know where she was going. The fact she hadn’t shared her location with him yet was driving him insane. Logically he knew they were still at the restaurant. Which he had the address of. But the illogical part of him said she had stupidly left the restaurant with this guy and was lying in a ditch somewhere.

The front door swung open, the sound of her shoes being kicked off and hitting the wall startling him. He hadn’t even heard her key in the lock. Noah quickly checked his phone, making sure he hadn’t missed her usual “On my way home” text. Nothing. Oh, fuck. That meant one thing. The date had gone so terribly he doubted even sushi and a movie could fix it. He didn’t dare look up at her, even. The last time she had come home like this and he’d done that she went off about how she didn’t need his pity.

Usually she went straight for the kitchen and brought back the sushi that she inevitably made him eat with her. This time, however, she flung herself down on the couch, her body stretching out beside him while her head found its place in his lap. This was new. Unusual. Had it really been that bad? Slightly terrified of what he would find he looked down at her, noting that while there weren’t any marks on her, at least not on her face, it was obvious she had been crying. Her makeup was smudged just so.

“Hey, baby. What’s wrong?” His voice was quiet. Calm in spite of the confusion and anger swirling inside him. What the fuck had happened?

“He spent the entire hour at the restaurant talking about how much money he makes and how cool his stupid fucking car is.”

Okay. He was right. Dude was a total tool. But that didn’t explain the state she came home in.

“What the fuck did he do?”

Guilt pierced him when she flinched at his raised voice, but he couldn’t stop himself. The thought that he had hurt her, that this waste of oxygen might have put his hands on her, was driving him up the wall.

“Quinn! What the fuck did he do?!” He pulled her up to sit in his lap, his hands wandering over her as he searched for injuries.

“He didn’t touch me, Noah.” She swallowed, finally meeting his eyes. “He made a gross comment about goth girls, and I ended the date.”

Relief surged through him and he clutched her against him, hugging her as tight as he could without hurting her. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of peaches that always clung to her. That scent had become home to him. Shit, she was home for him. This asshole hadn’t put his hands on her. At least there was that.

“He-he followed me outside. Told me good luck finding a man that would put up with me. And…Noah, he’s fucking right. Look at my track record. Look at how we met! I was some sad, heartbroken girl drinking her sorrows away.”

Quinn broke. Right there in his arms. His words from earlier rang loud as fuck in his head. Telling her she had shitty taste in men. Her broken sobs, muffled by his shoulder, shattered him into millions of little pieces. She had never sounded like this before. Not even the night they had met. No matter what happened she never broke like this. So he did the only thing he could think to do at that moment. He took her head in his large hands, lifted it off his shoulder, and pressed his lips against hers in the hope that he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of his life.

Tag: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

[atangledfate]

A Hero? Why did they all go to that so quickly? He never wanted to be a Hero, even now it was the furthest thing from what he wanted. He fought because he had to, he fought because he lost someone precious to him. It was never about justice, or doing the right thing. It was and has always been a very personal conflict for him. One he still battled with internally. There were things Starline didn't know and might never know. Which by proxy left Surge in the dark, as well. No he wasn't a hero, he was just a guy who decided to fight back when everyone else was running away. He was full of anger and rage, and just wanted to make Eggman pay for that. If not for Tails, and Amy he might have become a very different person.

" I'm not a hero... i wish everyone would stop giving me that label, and if you think GUN thinks of me as a Hero, you are out of your damn mind... "

He said rather bluntly to Surge as he was probably at the top of there shit list.

" GUN absolutely despises me... Because they can't control me. The first chance they got they tried to lock my ass up. Let's not pretend they hold me in high regard here. They tolerate me because folks would flip the fuck out if they made a move... Nah GUN only cares about how they can use me... and i ain't about to let them do that again..."

He crossed his arms setting the record straight, but Surge was right about one thing. Him rushing at GUN and losing his cool would only make everything worse. But deep down he knew this was going to end badly, GUN was cutting off there reinforcement and backing them into a corner. He knew tactic as he'd seen it before, and it was gun strat 101. The only thing that had not counted on was both Surge and Sonic on base and that may have been why there were stalling.

" And you think a GUN Cell is gonna make up for all the bad you did? That the idea? Cause i dun think that'll be how it works. Those cells suck by the way... the beds are the worst. "

He seemed to have calmed down at least and was focused on Surge, as he crossed his arms giving her a glance with those baby green eyes.

" They'll just want to use you... it's what they do, its there playbook... but if it's what you want whatever i guess i can't convince you otherwise... I just think this will hurt the kid alot more then it will help him..."

He sighed as he looked back toward the airship and fidgeted as he watched it getting closer. The massive shadow falling over the base as it and two other air ships came to a stop over top of HQ, as an almost imposing figure. Sonic felt the hair on his neck stand on end, as his bad feeling only intensified.

==============================================

There was alot that Kit and Surge didn't know about Sonic, and that statement proved it to Tails. But it was very hard for him to begin to explain it to Kit. Even then he doubted Kit or Surge would agree with it or even see it as a justified reason. But Death has a way of changing people, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worst. He remembered what Sonic was like when they first met, and how he just never spoke to anyone. He honestly thought he was mute for a long time but of course that wasn't the case at all was it?

But at least Kit was honest with him and he could respect that honesty. He wanted him and it was probably the first big step forward. He also didn't disagree with him either, Sonic could end Eggman in a heart beat should he want to. He could have ended him so many times but he couldn't do that not without souring her memory.

" It does help... If only a little ... "

He didn't think trying to explain things to Kit would help and if anything it might agitate him. Though he wished he could make him see things the way he did.

" There, Relay is set up Restoration Coms fully restored... Lanolin should be able to contact our forces outside of Restoration now. We should get Belle Bot someplace safe till this is over, if anything happens to her, we'd lose coms and more--- Know anyplace secure? "

The horrible awful truth was, Sonic lost someone so precious to him that it nearly destroyed him. He was so full of anger and rage when he first met him. But it was her memory that kept him sane, that made him unwilling to to take a life. Her memory that made him believe that people can change. He knew neither of them knew the truth, how could they? He doubted even Eggman knew about her... or how she'd died.

But losing Sonic's mother had been the hardest thing in his life, and he still wrestled with it. If anyone had a reason to kill Eggman it was Sonic, and yet his promise to her kept him from going through with it. But he didn't think Surge or Kit would understand that kind of promise, or what it meant to Sonic. How breaking that promise would tarnish her memory in his eyes.

It was something he could never understand... his own parents abandoned him after all.

"Really? And here I thought they came all this for a fucking tea party with scones. Obviously I know GUN isn't here to just fucking talk, and I'm sure they have their own plans to be a pain in the ass. Though in case you forgot YOU'RE the hero, even to their bitch ass's. How do you think they'll react if you go off the fucking rails. At least if I do it then it'd be way easier for The Restoration to cut me off real quick." It was a blunt and harsh truth, though being such a loose cannon came in handy in a situation like this.

"What do you take me for, a fucking idiot? I'm well aware that I'll have to convince Kit NOT to fight GUN and let them arrest me, and doing that will be like pulling fucking teeth. That doesn't change the fact I trust only you to get him home and to keep your mouth shut just where it is. I'm not telling saying you can't be angry, though take it from me, you don't want it controlling you." Until today most of Surge's choices were driven by her anger.

"Look, I know you ain't happy about my choice, though believe it or not it's for me too. I got shit I need to pay for, and not everything is as easy as changing and running around helping people. Sometimes jail time is need, though I'm sure we both know some crazy threat will come up to force GUNs hand to let me loose to help which could help me get out faster." Surge main reason for doing this was clearly for Kit, though another reason was doing it for herself.

"So if you're done arguing with me then lets get to this fucking checkpoint and make sure GUN knows trying anything stupid will piss both of us off." Surge was ready to start telling GUN to pack it up and go the fuck home, if only for the fact it would get Drippy home faster. "Besides, in case you forgot we got giant Momma Wisp up there." The tenrec doubts GUN wants to fuck with a Wisp that side.

===========================================================

"Belle Bot wasn't designed programming of hacking, and it was something we put on the back burner as it was made mainly for defense purpose's. Simply put, it can't do something on this scale, though I suppose it'll work for at least jamming their communication and airships if need be. Belle Bot, run program delta nine B on all GUN communication devices and airship within range."

Belle Bot's eyes would glow green for a moment. "Executing command and calculating time until completion. Calculation complete. Command will be fully done in six minutes. Recommending to avoid conflict until process is complete." The bot would then put it's focus on completing the command.

"Why? It's not like you did this to me, and honestly I couldn't care less about your existence by this point. At this point my dislike for you is only because of how continue to let Sonic act so foolish and not convince him to end Eggman. Heroism is fine, though there's a clear line between heroism and stupidity. You and I both know if Sonic really wanted to he could end Eggman at anytime. I'm sure even you can, though you don't." For the most part Kitsunami had gotten past Starline's programming expect for a voice every now and then.

"So there's nothing to talk about as I just don't like you, though I can also admit I don't trust you either. Mainly because our points of view are so far apart and so different. If it helps I can say it's no longer personal as I apply this logic to Sonic and plenty of your friends." Kitsunami could now say he was mostly thinking for himself, even if most of his motivation was to help Surge.

[undercoverslutt]

bestiesolderbrother! simon <- masterlist simon "ghost" riley x reader

let's take a blast to the past, okay? this takes place one year before you and simon start doing things together.

"So, when are you going back to school?" His voice flings from across the room, and it's like his timber is clawing up your back, you feel it at your neck. Simon's voice did so much to you, it was so different than all the other guys at your campus. So deep, provocative and protecting. He was only a few years older than you, and his sister. He didn't go to college like you two, but he was extremely smart. He came back from bootcamp earlier in the summer, and was staying at his parents house until he could find his own place.

Simon was the "problem child", always getting into trouble, never really knowing what was next with him. But he was so smart, street smart. You never felt more safe with a man's presence in your entire life. Your dad was never around, and your mom never really cared where you went off to. So you were always here, with your best friend and her older brother, and their parents. You did like being in their company, this was your second home, if need be. And sometimes you did need it. No, you didn't really need to be here for the comfort aspect, but when your mom locked you out of the house one too many times, you couldn't help but need to come to take a few showers and get some spare clothes from your best friend during the summer. Her parents were very understanding. Even if they didn't talk about it much, it was almost unspoken.

"I go back in like," You close your eyes as you tally up the days, feeling a bit overwhelmed at having to talk to this guy, "I'd say a month and a half."

This was going to be your sophomore year in college. Were you ready for school again? No. Did you want some new atmosphere? Yes. Were you missing your own dorm? Yes. You didn't have a roommate, thank the heavens.

It was really quiet in this part of town. And your best friend's got a new boyfriend so she's rarely ever home anymore, let alone when you guys go off the college. You barely see her at all. It's like you're living in her house, without her. But she would be back later tonight so you guys could go out to eat, maybe? That's if her man doesn't string

But Simon was here a-lot of the time. And he was nice to you. Very respectful. Trying to make you feel as normal as possible. He tended to ask you many questions when you guys were alone, and you thought it was sweet. He just wanted you to be able to talk to someone. About anything.

"Excited?" He continues.

"Yeah, I am." You let out a laugh, you know your non-enthusiastic character was completely juxtaposing everything you were saying. "It's just school though, you know?"

Simon nods, and starts picking up a jacket, almost like he was following your movements. "You got a boyfriend that I need to know about?"

A boyfriend?

"No?" You say shortly. You weren't in the mood for guys, I guess. You begin pulling your shoes from the cubby, you always put them in the third box to the right. It was yours at this point. "Not at the moment, Si. Why are you asking?"

You begin to tie your shoes, bending down so you don't have to look at him at all. You don't know if you feel embarrassed, awkward, or just weirdly protected by his questions. He's quiet for awhile. "If you're anything like my sister, I want to give you some advice."

Advice. Please.

"Don't be like her, okay?" He starts off, and you fucking laugh. You fucking laugh, and he stops in his tracks. "What? I'm being serious."

"I am too. You don't have to worry about my decision-making. If that's what you're saying." You look up at him finally. So he's just trying to be that type of person right now. One thing you hated, was someone trying to give you "advice" on shit you didn't need help with. You were fine on your own and always had been. You didn't need anything. You didn't need a parent.

"No, no, not at all." He repeated, finally situating a jacket on his bulky body. "I'm just saying."

"What?" You want him to continue, but you don't know if he will.

"Just be careful." He stops, zips up his jacket and grabs his phone. You grab your keys and the bag you had brought. The next words he says are heavy to you, and slow, like he's trying to make you understand what he was trying to say. "You've grown up."

That heat crawls back, down to your palms and up your neck. He was acknowledging you. "I know, Simon."

You wanted to say something more about this, but the only thing happening was a weird, tight-lipped smile on your face. "I'll catch you later, ghost."

[itsaspectrumcomic]

hey! before I begin, I wanted to say how much I love your comics!! the style and palettes are really soothing, and it's always nice to read them, relate heavily, and not feel quite such an oddball!! so thanks :]

I (very recently) received the results of my diagnosis for autism and adhd (I got both, and a couple other smaller things) and was wondering what things you did differently immediately after diagnosis that helped you? I've tried things like proper organisation and cleaning, keeping on top of deadlines for college as much as I am able, and trying to study as much as I can (a levels are very stressful even though I've only just started the course, and while these solutions are what's considered "good" by the college, its not really helping me as much as I would like)

a large part of the diagnosis was dedicated to brain function (I had the privelidge of being assessed privately, so the evidence was very detailed and thorough), and I scored stupidly high on vocabulary and language study. However, I feel like there's somewhat of a disconnect between the effort I've put in on my foreign language studies and the progress I'm seeing- I'm trying so so hard to understand grammatical concepts and absorb a lot of vocabulary in preparation for some smaller tests in the near future, but I'm not seeing the reward during lessons or even with preparation. I am fully aware that with all the work and effort I'm spending, I am closer than I would like to be to a meltdown and probably burnout, which I desperately want to avoid. It just feels that although my brain is wired for linguistic study, I feel like I'm falling behind or failing

I guess if you have any advice or anything that helped you once your diagnosis was confirmed, or tips for study, I would be greatly appreciative :]

Tldr: struggling with study and fearful of failure, any advice?

hnng I remember the stress of A levels, you couldn't pay me to go through that again 🫠

After being diagnosed I started to allow myself to unmask and stim in more obvious ways. Previously my stims had generally been pretty small, like flicking my fingers or wiggling a bit, but now I allow myself to flap and rock and play with fidget toys as well and it genuinely does help release tension.

It sounds like your're working really hard - if you feel close to burnout and/or meltdowns, you might be working too hard. I also found it really hard to take breaks when I was studying (...still do) but the truth is, by not allowing your mind to rest, you're actually making it harder for yourself to learn and retain information.

So my advice is, take a break! A real break, not 'I'm gonna scroll on my phone for a bit' or 'I went to the toilet that counts as a break right'. Get up, step away from your work for at least an hour, and do something you find relaxing and fun. Go for a walk or just sit outside. Make yourself a drink. Take a nap if you need to. Try to avoid looking at screens during your break if you can. And when you go back to studying, schedule times to have regular short breaks as well (eg a 10 minute break every hour). I set alarms for mine because otherwise I forget to move for five hours.

A break allows your brain to process the information and let it settle properly. When you go back to work you'll hopefully feel more refreshed and able to take in information again. Remember, if you've just started the course, then this is a marathon, not a sprint, so please try not to overdo it and burn yourself out right at the start. Conserve your energy for the long haul.

If you're still struggling, are you able to ask for help, maybe from a friend or a teacher? A teacher could give you some techniques on how to improve in the specific areas you find difficult, and sometimes just talking through the bit you're having trouble with or not understanding can help a lot.

Good luck with your studies and I hope you take some time to rest as well :)

[cigsaftersuh]

the crisp autumn evening air brushed against your skin as you fiddled with a loose thread on your sleeve. you sat beside jaehyun on the park bench, watching the last hints of sunlight dip below the horizon. even though your parents had hosted jaehyun's family countless times before, this evening felt different — it was the first dinner with both families since you’d become husband and wife.

jaehyun seemed to notice your nerves. he shifted closer, slipping his hand into yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “still feeling nervous, honey?” he asked, his voice warm and steady, contrasting the brisk air around the both of you.

“just a little,” you admitted, trying to laugh it off. “it’s silly, i know, it’s just our families, but… tonight feels unusually special, you know?”

he chuckled softly, tracing slow circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. “yeah, i know what you mean. it is a new chapter, for us, and them too, even though we’ve known each other forever.”

you smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder. “remember when we used to talk about this? back when we were kids, wondering what it’d be like if we actually got married someday?” he laughed, low and comforting. “feels like yesterday, we thought getting married would make us all serious and grown-up… but here we are, still sneaking out to the park like kids.”

“some things never change,” you said, smiling up at him. he smirked, nudging you. “and yet, some things really have.” he lifted your hands slightly, tapping your ring finger with a soft smile. “we’re actually married.” you stifle a giggle, “still feels unreal sometimes,” you admitted, your smile softening. “but in a good way.” he brought your hand up to his lips, giving it a gentle kiss. “same here,” he said with a small smile. “but you know what? no matter how new this feels, it’s still just you and me, the same as always.”

his words calmed you, his familiar warmth bringing you back to yourself. “yeah. we didn’t magically change overnight.” you laughed a little. “i guess i just want it all to feel right.”

“it already does,” he replied confidently, giving your hand another gentle squeeze. “plus, i bet our families are just as excited, and nervous, as we are.”

“thanks for reminding me,” you murmured, grateful for his steadying presence. “always,” he replied, his voice light with a playful grin. “now, let’s go to our very first family dinner as mr. and mrs. jeong.”

you laughed, nudging him. “you know i’m still ‘Mrs. l/n jeong,’ right? i kept both names, remember?” he grinned, dimples poking out with a hint of pride in his eyes. “i know, and i love that. it feels like the best of both of us.” you felt your cheeks burn up, smiling as his words settled in. “exactly what i hoped for.”

leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment as you closed your eyes, enjoying the quiet warmth. when he pulled back, he gave your hand a gentle tug. “come on, mrs l/n jeong. our families are waiting, and they’re going to be wondering where we ran off to.”

૮ mrs l/n jeong ྀིა .ᐟ

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ㅡ my forever only.

with love,

© cigsaftersuh

ʚ taglist - open ɞ

@cstarry @hyuckleberriii @becauseimmaya @jeongjaeleftbicep @lesuneczka @cryingforjae @ctrlstar

[strictandfair]

The owner of an orchard hired two females to guide his apple picking customers. One of the women became obessed with one of the old wood buildings coyly teasing the owner that he was going to take them to 'the woodshed' for a 'butt whopping' if they didn't behave. The owner was intriged, imagining how such a spanking would be like. One day as he organizing his basement he found a large leather strap. He oiled it with olive oil and baked it in his oven to restore the leather to the supple and bendable condition. After a few days of consideration, he offered the leather strap to the spunky, female employee who had continued to tease him and ordered her to bring it to 'the woodshed' and find a good place to hang it just in case it was needed. Her eyes went wide and she cautiously took the leather strap and soon ran off towards 'the woodshed' with the strap. A few days went by and the teasing female employee made no additinal jokes about being taken to 'the woodshed'. However on a slow day, he was looking for the female employees and got a hunch. He went off to 'the woodshed' and crept silently to the window. The two females were talking in hushed, excited tones.

"No, it will hurt, stil. Doesn't matter that it is soft. He can swing down like this.... Right on our booty." The teasing female explained.

"Do you want to try it?" Her female companion teased.

"Sure, get your skirt hitched up and your panties down and I will fix you up." The teasing female encouraged.

"What? Bare? Are you crazy? He wouldn't bare us. That would be ridiculous." Her female companion.

"No, with a leather strap like this. Needs to be done on the bare!" The teasing female employee explained excitedly. "Wouldn't really feel it over our skirts."

"He wouldn't will he?" Her female companion protested quietly.

"Come bend over. I will show you he will need to bare us." There was some shuffling inside.

WHhhhhapoop!

A whoping sound bounced out the woodshed as the leather strap hit against one the female's clothed bottoms.

"Ohhh." Her female companion whined.

"You see? Makes more noise then soreness." The teasing female employee said dissmively. "Here let me give one real one." There was more shuffling inside.

"What? No. Stop." The female companion protested while laughing.

"Hold still. This beautiful bum needs it."

Whallop!

A stinging whallop with the leather strap sounded from inside the shed.

"Owe!" The female companion whined.

"Which one did feel more?"

"The second one. Let me up." The female companion begged.

"You think you would be better employee with your bum spanked?" The teasing female pried.

"I guess so." The female companion relucantly agreed.

"Let me give another two as a taste." The teasing female proposed excitedly.

"No, you said you would give me one." The female companion pleaded.

"Well, yes, but I thought you may want a few more. After all since we are working for him we need to be ready to take a spanking. If we are too weak we need to quite." The teasing female explained as some shuffling was heard.

"He really is going to whope us?" The female companion asked.

"Of course, he wouldn't buy this quality leather strap if he wasn't going to whallop us when we misbehavied." The teasing female explained. "So, two more, alright?"

"Alright." Came the submissive answer.

WAaaalop!

A femine grunt was heard as the leather belt sunok into her bare bottom

WaaaaaaLOP!

A femine yelp was heard in response to the leather's bite.

"Alright feel the sting?" The teasing female asked. "That is a small taste what we will get when we are bad."

"But bare though?" The female companion asked.

"Always needed with the strap. If it was a paddle maybe, but no he bought a strap. He will need to have us bare at least our bottoms." The teasing female explained with assurance.

"At least?" Her female companion questioned.

"Well, sometimes in the olden days. Women were undressed completly before being sent out to the woodshed."

"Really?"

"Yes, it was meant to humilate them for bringing thier deed that brought shame."

"What about neighbors?"

"Chuckling and enjoying the little look see I am sure."

"I should give you a spanking now."

"No, thanks, but I wouldn't mind you telliing our boss I was messing around." The teasing female employee offered.

"Really?" The female companion asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, and if you see a naked nymph running for the woodshed, you can be assured I will be geting it good." The teasing female said.

There was some shuffling inside and the owner of the orchard owner walked away hurridely. After all the customers were to leave he was going to confront both of them for being lazy and inform they were both going to be taken out to the woodshed for a butt whoopin. Through out the day he was already making future plans to buy a horse saddle for 'the woodshed'. He would have the females climb aboard the horse saddle, put thier feet in the stirrupts, and stick out thier bare bottom behind themself for him to whip with his leather strap. As for having them strip and run to the woodshed in the nude, he decided to leave that oppurtunity to be explored in the future.

[urlocalmultigroupfan]

without you (pt. 6)

pairing: lee felix x female reader

summary: you have been best friends with the 00 liners+chan for a while now. now everyone is in college and when you begin to develop feelings, its getting hard to choose...l

tags/warnings: college skz, liking multiple people at a time, fluff, angst, reader struggles with anxiety and depression, cussing, partially proofread

a/n: yesterday i had been listening to no doubt by enhypen for hours while working... but GIANT CAME OUTTTT OH MY LORDD... *saves to yt music library* anyways this one is going to be on hyunjin 😚 love yall

The air outside had cooled by the time you made your way to the campus courtyard, but the warm golden light of the late afternoon still clung to the edges of the horizon. You were meeting Hyunjin today—another one of your closest friends—but unlike Chan, your time together had become a rarity. The last few weeks had been a whirlwind, and you'd found yourself bouncing between study sessions, gym dates, and nights out with a growing group of new friends. Somewhere along the way, you'd unintentionally let Hyunjin slip through the cracks.

Hyunjin was already sitting at one of the tables, his phone in hand as he scrolled through something on the screen. When you approached, his gaze flickered up to meet yours, and a smile tugged at his lips, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Hey," you greeted, settling across from him. "Sorry I'm late. Was just finishing up a study session."

He nodded absently, not looking up from his phone. "It’s fine."

You felt the weight of his response, the slight tension in his posture, and it made the smile on your own face falter. Something was off. It wasn’t like Hyunjin to be so distant—not to you. He’d always been playful, easygoing, and full of life when the two of you hung out. But today, there was something muted about him.

"Everything okay?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," he said, though his eyes didn't meet yours. His voice was flat. "Just tired, I guess."

You weren’t buying it. You'd known Hyunjin long enough to know when something was bothering him, and it was obvious there was more on his mind than fatigue.

"Hyunjin, come on. You can tell me what's up." You leaned forward slightly, giving him your best serious look.

He hesitated for a beat, then let out a deep sigh. He finally put his phone down, folding his arms on the table and leaning back in his chair, eyes on the sky. "I just… I don’t get it," he muttered.

You blinked, taken aback by his tone. "What do you mean?"

"It’s like…" He ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to find the right words. "You’re always with everyone else now. Chan, Felix, your new friends, all the time. You barely have time for me anymore."

Your heart skipped at the bluntness of his words. You’d been so caught up in the hustle of school and new connections that you hadn't noticed how much distance had started to grow between you and Hyunjin. Guilt immediately crept up on you, but you tried to keep your voice calm.

"I’m sorry, Hyunjin. I didn’t mean for it to happen like that. It’s just—everything’s been so busy lately. I didn’t realize I was pulling away." You hesitated, feeling a lump form in your throat. "You know you mean a lot to me, right? You’re my friend, too."

He finally turned to look at you, his dark eyes softer now, though there was still a faint edge of hurt beneath them. "I know," he said, his voice quiet. "But it doesn’t feel like it sometimes. I don’t know. I guess I just… miss hanging out with you like we used to."

You let his words settle between you, a heavy silence hanging in the air. You missed it too—the easy way you could talk with him, the days you spent together doing nothing but laughing and playing around. You wanted that again. You wanted to be there for him, to make sure he knew that even though things had gotten complicated, your friendship hadn't changed.

"I get it," you said softly. "And I’m sorry for letting things slip. You’re right, I’ve been kind of all over the place. But I’m here now. And I really want to spend more time with you. How about we go grab some dinner after this? Just the two of us. No distractions."

Hyunjin’s expression softened, though he still seemed a little guarded. He gave a small nod, his lips curving upward slightly, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes the way it normally did.

"I’d like that," he said quietly, his gaze flickering down at his hands. "I just don’t want to feel like I’m… second place, you know?"

You felt a pang in your chest at that. You’d never meant to make him feel like he wasn’t important. "You’re never second place, Hyunjin. You’re one of my closest friends. I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like that." You reached across the table and placed a hand over his, offering him a reassuring squeeze. "I’m really glad you said something. I don’t want to lose touch with you."

His gaze met yours again, and this time, his smile was a little more genuine. "Thanks. I just needed to know that you still care."

"Of course I care," you said with a light chuckle, though your voice was filled with sincerity. "You’re stuck with me, okay?"

He laughed softly, the tension between you easing just a little. "Yeah, yeah. But you’d better make sure you keep your word." He leaned back in his chair, looking a bit more relaxed now. "And just so you know, I’m expecting you to beat me at Mario Kart tonight. You’re not getting off that easy."

You smiled, feeling the weight of the conversation lift. "I’ll take that challenge. But if I win, you’re buying me dessert."

"Deal," Hyunjin said, his eyes brightening. "And if I win, you’re giving me an hour of uninterrupted karaoke."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Alright, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you."

The rest of your time together was spent in easy conversation, the air between you lighter than it had been when you first sat down. You promised to make more time for each other, to reconnect and rebuild the bond you both shared. As you walked away, heading to the arcade for your Mario Kart and karaoke session, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief.

Hyunjin’s jealousy wasn’t born from a place of malice, but of longing. He had simply missed his friend—and now that you were both aware of the distance that had crept between you, you were determined to close that gap.

And, as the night stretched on, with the sound of laughter and playful arguments filling the air, you couldn’t help but feel grateful that your friendships, though sometimes strained, were strong enough to withstand anything.

please don't reblog without permission!

[icewindandboringhorror]

sometimes looking at like Self Help Strategies lists for the symptoms I'm having is always just like:

thing that I already do

thing I have tried 10 times

thing I already do

thing that I don't have the money to do

thing I already do

thing I've been doing since I was 10yrs old to no avail

thing that is impossible given my situation

thing that doesn't apply to me

thing that I already do

thing I have already tried

hrmm, oh wait, maybe finally- OH, yeah.. okay. thing that I already do but it was just phrased slightly differently

thing I have already done

[coquelicoq]

incredibly moved whenever someone tells me that i'm an easy person to be around when they're going through some shit. there's nothing more sacred to me than sitting with someone through death and grief and loss, things that i can't fix or do anything about except be there and let them feel their feelings without having to pretend to be chipper or hopeful or cheeruppable. i can't pretend to feel what i don't feel, which makes me weird and awkward in so many interpersonal situations, but i think it's also what makes people feel comfortable sharing this stuff with me, because they know that i won't judge them and they don't have to perform for me. i feel so lucky when i can provide that for somebody. i wouldn't trade it for anything.

[maingh0st]

I could have sworn you had a Zoyalai fanfic on your AO3.

I’m the author of tangled in the bones of this love & its companion, head on my heart (tell me we're worlds apart) ! both are zoyalai fics

I’m still quite proud of them, but sometimes i like to let my fics loose into the world under anon because… idk how to explain, it just feels like a way to let myself grow beyond them, if that makes sense