#but like. it hurts lmao. i don’t think i’m supposed to be able to feel those organs. and i think i feel em haha ha

[bkgexe]

if all else fails, i was myself

bakugou x reader ✾ 4.6k

info! no smut sorry gang ✾ tw! trust issues that manifest as issues w physical intimacy/contact, dubcon in its vaguest definition (NOT bkg & reader) ✾ notes! ive been in perpetual writers block for months. is this trite idk. i miss my baby but anytime i write for him im like oops this is gonna be 60k words!!! so here is. a drabble lmao. also big lmao moment this is titled after count me out by kendrick lamar ldskfjdlkjf which was on repeat while writing so uh sorry mr. lamar abt the mha fanfic

katsuki has always known that part of him is wrong.

he’s never liked being touched. every kiss he’s experienced has made him tense as an elevator cable poised to snap. any attempt to go further than that has made him a little ill, made his gut feel like a stack of loose papers being torn to shreds, slow and loud.

it doesn’t help that he’s only ever had three kisses in his life: eijirou at a new year’s party (too many teeth), eijirou again at another new year’s party nearly a decade later (too much tongue), and then his fourth date with kyoka (when he tried to convince himself he just had to push through the discomfort to become normal).

things went further than that. it was a mistake. they both knew it right after it happened—kyoka first, and then katsuki after his head stopped pounding with what if i'm doing this wrong what if she's pitying me for fucking this up what if i don't know how to touch another person correctly what if i was supposed to learn at some point and i missed it how could i fucking miss it will it always be like this because i can't do this again i can't i don't—

“kat," she said after. she looked at him with something only a few degrees removed from pity, and poorly removed at that.

he attempted a halting non-apology. he attempted a real apology. failed at both.

"it's okay, you know," she said. "to not like it."

he scoffed even though he wasn’t entirely clear on what she meant by it, because there was so much he didn’t like. “i like it just fine.”

“if that was liking it, I’m honestly worried about your capacity for enjoying life in general.” it wasn’t a joke. her bluntness was something that'd made katsuki think he could push his boundaries with her. all of her thoughts were laid out plain for him to read, an open-source journal. “i'm just saying you don't have to like it. and you don’t have to force yourself to do things you don’t want to do. don't fuck yourself over for someone else's happiness.”

kyoka still texts him often, checks in, invites him to drinks with their friends. she’s kind. she’s normal. she doesn’t have this weird, shredded thing inside her that makes her balk at the idea of someone’s hand on her skin. that makes her think she's doing something wrong, even if she's not the one that initiated the touch.

when you started your job at the front desk of katsuki’s agency, he never thought that he'd be here, wishing above everything that he could just be normal. just for one fucking day, so he could laugh at your shitty jokes and maybe brush his knuckles across the back of your hand in passing and take you on a date where he could kiss you in his car after driving you home and the thought wouldn’t make his skin crawl, wouldn't tear up his insides to pulp.

because he fucked everything up. he's standing in his empty office where you'd been spending time with him and he fucked it up and hurt you and he's not sure how to unfuck it.

the thing is, he could grin and bear it. he could deal with the odd thing inside him that hates the contact and white-knuckle it through every kiss, every caress. but he’s never been a great actor. he wouldn’t be able to hide that from you.

(kyoka told him, years later, that it’s not that the sex itself wasn’t fine—what made it nearly unbearable for her was the fact that she could tell, only after it was too late, that being physically vulnerable with her pained him far more than he was willing to reveal.)

no one wants to feel like the person they’re with is grinning and bearing it. that they’re white-knuckling it through. katsuki knows this. he knows he’s basically a fucking virgin all but in title at thirty and that he’s got the personality of a dried-out fig you find in your fridge weeks after its last edible moments. he doesn't have much to offer.

but he walked into work one day and nodded at you, curt, a grimace on his face—and you smiled at him so kindly that his stomach twisted.

with you, it wasn't the feeling of something being torn apart. it was different, lighter. leaves wrenched into the sky by a strong breeze. still a kind of tearing, but different—less destructive.

he was wearing a deep carmine sweater his mom sent him in one of her bi-monthly care packages (as if he’s not an adult, and a pro-hero on top of that), and you said, “that’s such a nice color on you. is it new?”

there was that breeze inside his chest, strong, pulling at his bones. “yeah,” he grunted. then slowly, as if remembering how: “thanks.”

it was the attention, he thought at first, that piqued his interest. he wasn't used to it. people always watched him from afar, and he had fans online that were borderline obsessive, but people didn’t approach him. they didn’t say that’s such a nice color on you. they didn’t smile the way you smile.

he’s always had a shallow streak. it’s not like he doesn’t know this. it’s become a little muted over time, a little discouraged by the visible scarring on his face and body from his time in the field, but it’s never fully been eradicated. so it was simple, he thought. you paid him attention and stroked his ego, and he preened like a self-obsessed bird of paradise.

and then you started making these little origami whale sharks.

fucking stupid. it bothered him an annoying amount. you had a bunch at your desk, all different colors and sizes, some taped to your desktop monitor, some hung up with little pieces of string under the desk's storage overhang. you drew dots on the back of each one, a distinct spotted pattern that was unique for each shark. and you made them for everyone but him. eijirou bought you a pack of high quality origami paper and you made him his own fucking school, all with little faces, winking or surprised or angry, their wide paper mouths gaping and empty, the lines of their bodies pressed careful and sure.

he hated it. it was annoying and a waste of company time and he usually didn’t ever use dumb corporate slogans like “a waste of company time” but you were really pushing his fucking limits.

it was definitely just the attention he liked, he told himself, because surely someone doing something as dumb as this would annoy him to no fucking end if he spoke to them.

and then he spoke to you and he was wrong.

he asked why you made the damn things in the first place and you told him, “i like whale sharks. but to be totally honest, i just run out of things to do."

and he saw that as a challenge. you were running out of things to do? rest assured he could find more shit for you to take care of. so he did. tasks that he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy, they were so dull and time-consuming. and you were so achingly competent that it drove him up a fucking wall. you completed everything he asked of you in half the time it would take someone else, and you always reported back with a smile, and you always did good work, and he could see himself having a conversation with you about something other than work but he didn't want to try because he was worried he'd begin to like you as a person.

you're pretty. really fucking pretty. he can see that now, and he sure as fuck saw it then. you're hardworking. you're just likeable, and that's something katsuki had never been. it (reluctantly) impressed him. worse than that, it turned his feelings for you into a sort of interest.

but he knows he's not normal when it comes to things like this.

he tried to distance himself from you because of it, but it turns out that asking someone to do work for you means you do have to speak to them sometimes. and sometimes turned into a lot of times.

sometimes turned into bringing him coffee in the morning, not because he asked you to, but because you're sweet like that. sometimes turned into being the person he bounced ideas off of when he had a board meeting coming up or something otherwise boring and meticulous. sometimes turned into you laughing at his prickly comments rather than going quiet because of them. turned into you saying suck it up, dynamight, this is what it means to be the boss when he complained about doing paperwork.

sometimes turned into staying late with him at the office, getting take out for the two of you to share while you finished filing claims and damage reports and other stuff he hated taking care of by himself. sometimes turned into him asking you to stay late just because he wanted you there. because even when he was quiet, you'd tell him about your day, about things that happened in the office, about how much you like the book you'd both been reading. he loved listening to you talk. felt comfortable enough to tell you things about himself when he'd never felt comfortable doing that before.

sometimes turned into you holding out a piece of fried tofu from your take-out container for him to eat while he was approving time-off forms that he should have looked at much earlier that week, and you being so close that he could notice how good you smelled, and the warmth of your body basically radiated towards him, like all your energy was focused on him, and your smile was small but somehow even more lovely than usual, a secret for him to tuck away and keep, and when you finished feeding him and he had a little sauce on the corner of his mouth and you reached forward to wipe it off for him and your hand lingered there for a moment and your eyes fell to his lips and what if you try to kiss me and i'm wrong and you hate me for it and what if i can't give you what you want and what if i'm not actually what you want what if i've disappointed you already what if—

it was too much.

so he fucked it up. your thumb was so soft against his skin. he reeled backwards in his chair, rolling it whole feet clear of you, and he felt the tearing again, the bad kind, like paper unevenly shredded by clumsy hands, and he had to leave. he had to leave. he needed to leave so badly that it felt like pulling his skin off would be preferable to being in that office with you.

hiding in the bathroom was fucking pitiful. he remembered his breathing exercises. he remembered to ground himself. and when he came back to his office, you were gone.

if he was normal—and he wants to be normal, god fucking damn—he could have stomached your proximity. he could have eaten out of your fucking hand. he could have touched you back like a normal person probably would have and he wouldn't be here, alone, looking at a little purple sticky note you left him that says i finished organizing the pto forms. i hope you feel better!

he doesn't know whose pride you're trying to save with that. as if you didn't leave because he made things so fucking awkward by running away from you when you touched him. when you—maybe, if he was reading the room correctly—were about to kiss him.

and you don't speak to him for days. he doesn't want to push so he doesn't—just watches you out of the corner of his eye whenever you're both in the same room, which is arguably worse. he's not sure. he's just itching to fucking talk to you because he misses it.

he misses you. in a more-than-friends way.

it takes a while for him to realize this. when he does, it hits him like a metal rod up the side of the head. it's fucked up of him to miss you the way he does when he doesn't feel like he can provide you with the things a normal person could. and though he's worked on his patience over the years—worked on understanding that he can't have everything he wants—it doesn't stop him from being selfish and finally pulling you aside to talk.

and baffling as fucking ever, the first thing you say is sorry. "i know i should've talked to you about it earlier. i just—i shouldn't have done that. and i know it. i shouldn't have assumed that—i don't know. that you..."

you look helpless. it's one of the very few times that katsuki has ever felt the compulsion to touch someone. not because he wants the touch, per se, but because he wants to be able to provide comfort. he never figured out how to do that with words. he's so focused on his inability to comfort you that he barely has any idea of what you're actually talking about. instead of doing anything at all, he just stands there like a fuckwad.

"i just want you to know that i would never—like never—have touched you, or tried to... if i didn't think there was like, a vibe?" you shake your head, exasperated with yourself. "god, even that sounds so bad. i'm sorry, i just—"

"wait, what are—?" and then it clicks, because he's been slow on the uptake figuring out his shit when he should have been focusing way more on yours. "there was..." katsuki says, and he fucking hates that he can't find better words for what you were both feeling in his office, "a vibe."

the way your face changes when you're flustered is one of katsuki's favorite things, but it's not as enjoyable when he feels just as flustered as you look. "i—oh? so... so you—?"

his ears feel like they're being attacked by two heated straightening irons and he knows they're red as hell right now. he's gonna have to say this plainly even though he'd rather get his teeth pulled out one by one with a pair of pliers. "it's not you."

your expression loses any sort of hope it once held. you press your lips together and sigh, maybe a little exasperated. he's doing his best here but he knows his best is shit. "i can handle a non-cliché rejection," you tell him. "honestly, i'd prefer a non-cliché rejection—"

"i'm not trying to reject you," he says, and it's selfish of him. because he's really not. he isn't comfortable with the things you'd want from him, but he still wants you in some capacity. "i just don't—do shit like that."

"kissing?"

somehow knowing for sure that you did want to kiss him in his office makes him want you more. he likes that you're bold. he likes that you're not ashamed of that. he wants to be different than he is. "any... of it," he struggles to admit.

"at all?"

he nods.

"just—like touching, and stuff?"

it sounds so juvenile that he can't help but laugh through his nose, roll his eyes. "yeah. touching and stuff."

"oh."

you're disappointed. of course you are. it's not like he expected anything different, but—sometimes he fucking hates his life. hates that he can't be the thing people need him to be. hates that trying is so difficult, that it flings his stomach into space, like a throwing stone skipping across a still lake.

"so you don't go on dates, or anything."

"haven't tried."

"do you not want to?" you ask, and he can tell it's more of a genuine question than anything. you're curious about him, like you always are. it's more than he deserves, for all he can offer.

"doesn't make sense to."

"that's not what i asked."

it's not. and so katsuki listens as you ask your question again, and he really takes a moment to think.

considering the answer to your question leads him to his first date with you. and his second, and his third—his fourth, and he's keenly aware that his last fourth date ended with what he expects all dates are supposed to end with.

he takes you to the aquarium. because of all the fucking origami whale sharks. you still haven't given him one and it sticks in his craw like a bone. in front of the backlit tank that holds sharks of all types, shapes and sizes and teeth he's never pictured possible of a living creature before, he asks, "why sharks?"

you look at him, brow raised. "i don't know. they probably needed the biggest tank in the aquarium. and this looks like the biggest tank."

"no, dumbass—your sharks. the ones all over the fuckin' office."

"what, you don't like them?" you ask, but you're smiling, sly.

he shrugs. he thinks they're dumb as hell. he wants one to hang up at work, like the ones you've got hung up at your desk. "they're whatever. they clutter the fuck out of ei's office. and he's already got issues organizing." you've just made eijirou so many at his point, and it's getting ridiculous. "but what—are they easy to make, or something?"

you laugh a little. "no. not at all, actually." a whale shark swims by, its spotted hide shimmering in the tank's eerie blue lighting, and you watch it intently. "but it'd be boring if it was too easy."

this date ends with him walking you home from the aquarium a few blocks from your apartment and you smiling at him and telling him that you had a really great time, and he feels like a fucking freak because you don't even expect more. you don't wait for a kiss. don't look disappointed that he doesn't try to give you one. the way you look at him holds so much affection that he doesn't deserve and he has no idea how to reciprocate it to you, and somehow he lands on, "make me one."

"one what?" you ask, but he thinks you already know what he's asking. you like to play coy. he likes it when you play coy. when you're enjoying yourself.

"one of your little fuckin' paper things," he mutters, because admitting that he wants one of those dumbass sharks feels somehow demeaning. he doesn't want you to know how much he's wanted one. "ei's got a million of 'em."

your hand was on your door handle, but it falls to your side. he's keenly aware of its proximity to him. he doesn't feel that terrible ripping in his gut and its absence is almost frightening to him. your fingers tighten into a fist. it's cold out. "ah, and you're jealous?"

"no," he says, knee-jerk. "i just don't get why everyone gets one but me."

you smile when he says this and he could live in this image of you, delicate and small and made for him. he goes home and thinks about it until he falls asleep. thinks about it even beyond then, feels that strong breeze inside him tearing every leaf from its grounded perch.

here's the thing—nothing against jirou, but unlike his other fourth date, this one was enjoyable. more than. he loved watching you be amazed by the size of the whale sharks, and he loved watching you put a bunch of coins into the penny press and cranking the machine until one was squeezed out into the pattern you wanted, and he loved watching you lay your hand against the glass where the rubbery wings of a flood of stingrays battled for your attention, and—

he loved watching you. that's weird, right? he sounds like a fucking lunatic thinking that.

but he does. he hadn't realized until now how difficult it had been not only to touch people, but to look at them. maintaining eye contact, watching someone do a simple task out of interest instead of staring them down in an attempt to intimidate them. he's so much more fucked up than he thought but what makes it bearable is that he can do it with you. he can watch the way you enjoy things and feel like he's not intruding on something he shouldn't. without even trying, you make him feel welcome—wanted.

that's it. you make him feel wanted.

the realization affects him in a way he doesn't understand. at work the next day, when you smile at him over the top of the front desk, he feels something incredibly strong—something like instinct—that tells him to touch you. small. a thumb brushed across your cheek. his fingers grazing yours. he wants it in a way that can't be right because he's never wanted to touch someone like this.

he doesn't do it, but he thinks about it all day. your little smiles when you notice him watching you on your dates, the way your fingers graze your lips when you cover your laugh, the softness in the way you regard him. you're quiet, reserved, but when you laugh you laugh hard. he wants your soft, your quiet and your loud, he wants the feeling of your fingers on his lips, he wants your smallest smiles, all things he wishes he could fold up and keep and later display somewhere he can always see them. a school of paper fish, gaping mouths and drawn-on spots and such carefully pressed lines.

so on the eleventh date—(he knows it's ridiculous to count, but he's never spent this much time with one person before, not like this)—he reaches for your hand when you're walking alongside the bay, the air turning cold in the wake of the sunset that the two of you had just witnessed. that's romantic, you'd teased when he asked you to watch it with him. he'd rolled his eyes, shrugged you off.

but maybe he wanted it to be romantic. maybe he wanted to make this as normal as possible for you because nothing has been normal between the two of you so far.

you pull back when he reaches for you, as if on instinct. look up at him, confused, when he reaches out again. "katsuki..." you say, and it sounds as if he's done something wrong.

he tries not to let his brain spiral but thoughts drip inwards. water meeting a dented hull. what has he done this time? what else has he fucked up by being fundamentally wrong?

"you know..." you start, and you lose your words.

he thinks of kyoka, years ago. it's okay, you know. to not like it. he wonders if you'll still text him like she does.

your lips pull into a frown before you speak and katsuki can't breathe. "i was never gonna ask on my own because i know you don't like talking about things like this if you don't bring it up. but—um. katsuki—do you think i expect something from you?"

"huh?" he asks, dumb. breathing is still something he fails to do.

"i know that this is—different. i know you have some things going on that make the physical part hard for you." you look up at him so earnestly, and he loves looking at you. he loves looking at you and doesn't want to have to stop and he's worried that this is it. the moment he'll have to stop. you try to smile and it's small and he wants it all for himself. careful. delicate. secret, for him. "i'm not gonna lie to you. i don't know what a relationship without that kind of stuff looks like. but that doesn't mean i'm not willing to find out. it's—i don't need you to try to do something you think i want you to do."

"i'm not."

"it makes me feel a little sick, kat. honestly. it makes me feel like, i don't know—like i'm taking advantage of you, or something—"

"you're not."

"you don't have to do things like that to keep me around." you look flustered, eyes darting from his face to the skyline. "if you want me, i'm—you know."

it's okay, you know. "i don't know."

"i'm yours," you say, and cringe immediately at your words. "or like—i could be, you know, kind of whatever you wanted, if you—if that's what you want. would want."

katsuki can only remember a few times when his head was this quiet in the presence of someone else. when he trusted someone enough to let his mind go blank, to let himself act on instinct. "can i kiss you?"

you sigh. "this is what i was saying. i don't want you to—"

"no," he says, quiet, and he's closer to you than he's ever been. he likes the way you smell. he's not gonna apologize if that's weird. "i just want—god, i feel pathetic asking again. can i just—?"

just, just, just. just a touch, just a kiss, just a moment of your fucking time—it's all he wants. and he's never wanted like this. he's never trusted like this. his head has never quieted entirely because he's so sure that he's not going to disappoint you, or be something you don't actually want, or be wrong.

you've shown him that he can't be wrong with you, regardless of whether or not something within him is broken.

your lips are warm, a little chapped from the dry air, and he tries to remember what kissing chastely is but it's like something breaks in him further the second the two of you touch. his hands are cradling your face, his tongue is gliding against your tongue, his teeth are clacking against your teeth, and he knows the kiss is bad and wrong and messy but he suddenly needs it. he needs to feel you.

you make a noise against him and worry slices into his stomach before he realizes it's a quiet, breathy moan, and maybe you've been okay without the touch but that doesn't mean you don't enjoy it when you receive it. he can tell he hasn't made his boundaries clear enough—your hands circle his wrists, too cautious to go further, too hesitant to grip him like he thinks you want to. like he wants you to want to.

his teeth hit yours again and you laugh, and he pulls back, stomach tight. there's a hope in him that's ready to be torn.

you see it in his face—the fear. "i love kissing you," you blurt out, as if it's the only reassurance you can think of in the moment. "i mean—you're just." you laugh again, and he realizes it's nerves. you're just as nervous as he is. "can i—can we go somewhere warm? and maybe do this more? or—if this was enough—"

he's pulling you towards his apartment before you can get another word out.

kissing you is easy because you make him feel like it's relatively new for you as well. maybe that's how it feels for everyone every time, but he wouldn't know. he just feels comfortable with you. like you're not so much better than him, like you're not waiting to laugh at him when he fucks up, like you're touching him because you really want to.

so he takes you to his apartment and puts you on his couch and kisses you until your back is against the armrest and he's looming over you and you feel comfortable enough that your hands stray from his wrists to his shoulders to his hair and he didn't even know touching someone could feel like this.

put aside the fact that he's nearly finished in his fucking jeans three times just from your fingers running across his back, from the way you cup his cheek when he pulls back for air because he keeps forgetting to breathe—just having you close is intoxicating. he wants to bury his face in the curve of your shoulder, he wants to bite marks into your skin that'll stay vibrant for weeks, he wants to etch himself into you so deeply that he doesn't have to leave. these wants aren't even sexual—it's something about having you be his. i'm yours, you'd told him, and he hadn't even known that it would be exactly what he needed to hear.

he's in love with you, which isn't shocking to him, but he knows he shouldn't be in love with you yet because people that aren't fucked up in the head don't feel shit like this so quickly. he's not gonna tell you this for a very long time, but he knows—so completely and confidently—that he will reach a point when he can tell you.

"you sure you want this?" he asks, breathy, between kisses.

you stop kissing him, brows raised in surprise. "katsuki, we don't... this is a lot for one night. we can take it slow, still."

"that's—i'm not talking about that." he gives in, then—lets himself bury his face in the crook of your neck, lets himself breathe in deep, lets himself find your hands and intertwine your fingers, and you can probably feel that he's hard as fucking metal for you but that's not what's important right now. it sure as hell makes it awkward to try to have a serious conversation, though. "you sure you wanna deal with all... you know. my stuff."

"are you sure you wanna deal with all of my stuff?" you counter, and he pulls back to look at you. kissed rotten and smiling. "of course i want to deal with it. i like you."

and he likes you too. god, he likes you so fucking much.

the next morning, long after you've left for home, he finds a little orange whale shark hidden behind the alarm clock on his bedside table, stars in the place of eyes, and the trace of you is enough to make him feel warm. to hope that over time his apartment becomes full of the little paper creatures until his home is its own aquarium, until everywhere he looks is a memory of all you've brought him—pieces of you, perfectly arranged and delicately folded by your careful hands, much too gentle to tear.

[kurishiri]

official IkeVil JP twitter role-played with fans as Roger

translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties. Please reblog, not repost!

and here are some of my favorite responses and some tidbits about Roger (and some others, through his eyes) 🥹👌 also I wouldn’t consider these spoilers; they’re more like bite sized fun facts you might find in a random scene in some random side story or event or something lmao also I don’t like the green gun emoji on my phone so I’m using the beer one instead.

1. Roger is trying to get along with Alfons (it’s not working so well though I guess, haha)

💬: Roger!! Have you been getting along with Alfons recently?

🍻: That’s always my intention, but whenever I see him he gives me a kind of disgusted look. So maybe he’s just shy or something.

2. maybe Victor is trying to get everyone drunk…?

💬: Roger, have you gone out to drink with Victor before?

🍻: I don’t think Victor really drinks outside. If anything, he’s the one bringing some good booze back to Crown for us. Could it be — he’s scheming something and trying to get us drunk?

3. Roger can crack a joke 😂👌

💬: I kind of just ate this without knowing what that liquid is, but what is it, actually? 🧪

🍻: That’s a love potion. If you drink it you won’t be able to think about anything but me——just kidding.

4. Roger and Ellis are the strongest!

💬: Who is the strongest in Crown?

🍻: Me, followed by Ellis. You wanna compare our strength now with an arm wrestle? Though I reckon you wouldn’t be able to win against me even if you used both hands.

5. Roger’s worst fight with Alfons

💬: Please tell us the worst episode of a fight you’ve had with Alfons〜!!

🍻: Once during a mission we got into an argument where Al and I almost died — that day I’ve never seen Victor look that quietly angry before.

6. drinking with William! (they’re the older bros of the group)

💬: What do you talk about with William when you drink with him?

🍻: Will knows a lot, so we’ll talk about all sorts of stuff. Like how Victor’s overworking himself, or how Jude’s got bad feet, or how Liam hurt himself again——wait, what are we, their guardians?

7. Alfons bombed the drinking date

💬: Hey Roger, what sweets do you like? Other than Alfons’ scone.

🪞: Are we talking about me? Oh, that’s my handmade scone that I put a lot of love into. Don’t you feel naughty with just one bite? What do you think is in it?

🍻: Hey, you, get out and go somewhere else already.

8. drinking with Elbie!

💬: Have you drank with Lord Elbert before? 🥺🍻💚💙

🍻: I have, yes. But I can never tell whether he’s drunk or not.

🪞: That’s because he always looks drunk.

🍻: Oy, Al, what are you doing here? Tonight’s supposed to be just me and the lil lady, so don’t get in the way like that. Shoo shoo!

9. Roger doesn’t just drink beer (surprise surprise!)

💬: What do you like to drink other than beer?

🍻: I also drink whisky, though I always prefer beer. What about you, lil lady?

10. Roger comforts you after a long day of work

💬: Roger, I finally finished work…

🍻: There, there, you did well. I remember your efforts very well. Good job today.

11. Jude and drinking, according to Roger

💬: When you’re drinking with Jude, have you seen him when drunk before? I want to know what he’s like when he’s drunk.

🍻: Can’t say I’ve seen him drunk before. It seems like that guy always got a calm look on his face, no matter how much he drinks.

12. what Ellis is like when drunk

💬: Cheers! I have a question, what is Ellis like when drunk?

🍻: Ellis isn’t that weak to alcohol… but he becomes a bit more fluffy than normal, I guess. But he can walk back to the castle just fine.

13. trying to get Ellis drunk…?!

💬: I heard Ellis is a little weak to alcohol. Have you taken care of him when he was drunk? Also how many cups does it take for him to become drunk?

🍻: Pfft, haha… Are you trying to get Ellis drunk? I’ll have you know Ellis is like a cute younger brother to me, so I won’t tell. I have taken care of him though——let’s leave it at that.

14. who can hold their alcohol in Crown?

💬: Who is the worst at holding their alcohol in Crown?

🍻: I think everyone in Crown is pretty good at holding their alcohol. But should we put that to the test? …No way, this really isn’t for me to gather information on them?

15. he be takin care of Crown when they’re drunk

💬: Who do you drink with most often? And have you taken care of someone when they got drunk!?

🍻: Taking care of someone… Ellis — no, Al, maybe? Oh, and also Jude… whoops, can’t say any more than that, or he’ll be after me.

16. what Harry drinks

💬: I always get the impression Harry drinks strawberry milk a lot, but when it comes to alcohol, what does he drink? I want to know 🦊🍸

🍻: Harry likes whisky soda. It goes well with chocolate, and I’ve seen him eating it together with the drink. Noww then, now that I’ve told you some important information, you’ll stop that lying fox from eating too much sweets for me, won’t you?

17. Roger’s advice for those who simp to the point of illness 😆

💬: My friends love you to the point they might be a little ill, Roger. They love you so much it’s too much for me to handle. Is there medicine to make them feel better?

🍻: I can introduce you to a doctor I know who has some good medicine. Want me to? His name’s Roger Barel.

18. he cooks?!?!

💬: I want to eat a meat entree with you, Roger! (this is sausage and roast pork that I made) 😋🍽️🥩✨ What’s your favorite type of meat? And what other foods do you like?

🍻: I would say steak, but any meat is good. But I also like salty things too. Sometimes I make things that go well with alcohol. Want some?

19. oh..? 😳

💬: Yippeeee✨✨✨ it’s everyone’s older brother Roger!! Congrats on your main story🎉💕 I really look forward to this summer! (I have 🦑 with beer)

🍻: You have as much excitement as Victor! For sure, look forward to it. I’ll make it a summer you won’t ever forget.

20. Roger’s recommended drinks

💬: I want to know your drink recommendations!

🍻: Mine is beer, beer, and more beer. Ah, having some ginger ale in between seems pretty good too.

21. he drinks with Ellis and Jude often!

💬: Out of the members of Crown, who have you been drinking with recently? Have you drank with them several times…! 🍻✨

🍻: I go out to drink with Jude and Ellis quite a bit. Well, I think I prefer drinking together with you the most though.

22. he loves meat at the end of the day eheh

💬: I’m thinking of drinking with you tonight🍻 What do you eat (snack) with alcohol? I’m thinking chips goes well.

🍻: My favorite is salty meat. But chips go well with beer too. Should we order some?

23. Roger’s advice for those who just turn the legal age

💬: I’ve turned the legal age, what do you recommend for a first timer…? Was your first drink a beer…?

🍻: At first, you should go for drinks that don’t have high alcohol content to see if you can drink it or not. Other than that, drink together with someone. For example, with me. And of course, the first drink I had was beer!

24. Roger’s favorite drinking partner is… ✨✨

💬: Is there anyone you want to drink alone with?? What types of things would you talk about with them!?✨

🍻: The one drinking in front of me, right now.

[sydnikov]

Jersey || J. Hughes

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Jack Hughes/fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: You and Jack got into a fight before he left for a game. To get back at him, you showed up at the bar you knew the Devils frequented after they won a game wearing the other team’s jersey. Only, a fan of said-team’s jersey gets a little too handsy, and even when fighting, Jack won’t stand for another man touching his girl.

Warnings: Cursing, alcohol consumption, touching w/out consent, mild and/or potential assault, kissing, mild angst, lots of fluff at the end

A/N: This is purely self-indulgent… Though I am a little nervous because I’ve never been a Jack Hughes girlie until recently, plus before my beloved hurricanes eliminated the devils I was battling my growing hatred for him LMAO but, anyways, I still have never written for him before, so lemme know what y’all think about this one... Happy reading <3

“Are you done yet?” Jack Hughes said as he raced around the apartment looking for his bag, briefly casting you a look of irritation as he rushed by.

Scowling, you merely spun around to follow his movements. “Did you even hear a word I just said?”

Jack released a sound of triumph as he found his bag by the couch and threw it over his shoulder. “About what?” he asked, purposefully dodging the topic you were trying to hint at. “You bitching about my ‘nighttime activities’ again?” he muttered, intending to just push back your problem with him for another day.

“I heard that,” you hissed, taking brief satisfaction in the way his neck flushed red at being caught. “So, what, I’m just some nagging girlfriend to you, then? Is that it?”

Jack sighed, rubbing a hand down his face as he tied the last lace on his shoe. “I don’t know, babe,” he said. “Can we just do this later?” Finally, he met your eyes for the first time that evening and found stubbornness and frustration staring back at him.

“So you can stay out until four in the morning again doing God knows what?” You scoffed, crossing your arms.

Jack, fed up, stood up and merely shook his head. He said your name through gritted teeth, a spark of genuine anger showing for the first time since starting this conversation. “I have a game to get to. I don’t know what your problem is but you’re really getting on my nerves right now and I really don’t want to hear it.”

Jack, feeling slightly guilty at the way he just spoke to you but not wanting to be the first to apologize, deliberately avoided looking at your face before grabbing his phone and marching out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

“Fuck,” he muttered, tugging at his hair once before releasing a strained breath. Not able to stop himself, Jack looked back at your shared apartment and debated being late to his game just to talk to you, but his stubbornness ultimately won out and with one shake of his head, he tried to cast you and your fight out of his mind until after he came home.

You’d still be there, waiting for him like always, after all, right?

You, meanwhile, stared at the door your boyfriend had just walked through in shock. Anger, frustration, confusion, and the strongest of them all: hurt, rolled through you in waves as you processed the conversation that just happened.

And the ‘problem’ you had with Jack, exactly?

It started out small—nothing huge, or anything. Jack didn’t have many red flags, if any at all – unless you counted him being a professional hockey player – so the fact that you’d been having so many problems recently was a mystery to you, as well.

Well, your relationship had just reached the 1-year milestone, and you only moved in together about a month ago… That’s when you started having problems, you supposed.

Jack’s season playing for the New Jersey Devils had started out strong immediately, and it was clear this was going to be one of his best seasons yet if not the best. The NHL was booking interviews with him, the Devils’ social media had practically turned into a Jack fan page, and the city had just fallen in love with him.

He absorbed the attention like a sponge, of course, like he couldn’t get enough of it. While he was clearly riding the high of being such a hot player right now, he hadn’t ever let it get to his head. His teammates, family, you, would never let him hear the end of it if his ego got too big.

So, here begs the question: why was Jack coming home later and later, texting you when away less, coming up with excuses on why he had to bail on weekly date nights?

Your insecurities had been eating you up lately, and the fact that Jack didn’t even see the problem made it worse. Was he cheating on you? You couldn’t help but ask yourself during many late nights, curled up in the bed you shared, alone, staring at the digital clock on the bedside table as the hours crept by.

Inhaling a shaky breath, you wiped at your eyes before finally tearing them away from the front door after accepting he wasn’t coming back. Making your way to the kitchen, you poured yourself a glass of water to cool your heated body when the vibration of your phone from your pocket interrupted you.

Feeling your heart swell with the hope that maybe it was Jack, you quickly pulled it out only to be disappointed when it was just one of your friends—then you felt bad for feeling disappointed because you loved your friends, as pushy as they could be, sometimes.

Want to hit up a bar? Is what one of them texted in a group chat with you and a few others. Normally, on a night like this where you were wallowing in the emptiness felt by Jack’s continued absence, you’d deny such an offer and merely drown yourself in the cheap wine you kept stashed, but…

A notification from a Devils news site interrupted your thoughts, and that’s where a devious idea struck your mind. Your boyfriend’s team was playing the Philadelphia Flyers tonight, a division rival, and you just so happened to have a close friend who was from the area.

I’m in, you responded to the group chat and couldn’t help but laugh at the string of fire emojis that followed. Wiping the remaining tears from your eyes, you texted said-Philly friend separately and asked if she had any jerseys she’d be willing to spare.

The text bubble that showed she was typing appeared, and then her response came. I have a Konecny jersey. Why?

Perfect.

Two hours later, you were in an Uber on your way to the designated club for the night which just so happened to be a bar that your boyfriend and his teammates frequented after a win. You sported black flared jeans and stilettos, and the star piece of your whole look: a Philadelphia Flyers jersey stamped with Travis Konecny’s name.

You wholeheartedly intended for Jack to see it to rile him up; he had a vicious jealousy streak, and a time like this was the perfect time to ignite it, especially after the 7-0 shutout win they took tonight.

Once you arrived, you tipped the Uber driver and walked in, a happy sway to your step because you felt like you were finally gaining the upper hand in your little feud with your boyfriend. As you walked into the club you were immediately bombarded with the sounds of booming music and flashing lights—the red-to-orange jersey ratio was almost comical, for the amount of ecstatic Devils fans far beat the few Flyers fans scattered throughout the room.

Drunken cheers of your name made you giggle as you found the table your friends had claimed. Like almost every patron in the bar, they were all sporting New Jersey Devils' colors or merch in some way—except for you and the friend who lent you the jersey you were currently wearing, of course.

“Never took you for a Philly fan,” said one of the girls, followed by several agreements. “What’s Jack gonna say when he sees you?”

So he was here, then, you hummed to yourself, briefly scanning the room for any sign of the team. “He’s here already?” you casually asked, leaning back against the booth and sipping on the drink one of your friends handed you.

“Yeah, they’re over in the booth across from us,” they pointed, helping you locate a large group of men and women who you, sure enough, identified as New Jersey Devils players and fan girls hanging off their arms. Feeling your heart seize up because what if Jack had someone hanging off of him, you only released the breath you’d been holding when you saw him near the back of the group talking to Nico.

Your friends saw the brief look of trepidation on your face and didn’t take long to fit the puzzle pieces together. “Are you and Jack still having problems?”

Smiling bitterly, you only shrugged. “Nothing too bad, really. I just want to get back at him for taking me for granted, y’know?”

Immediately, more shots were ordered and you couldn’t help but grin as you tossed the alcohol down your throat, feeling immensely better with the slight buzz that came after.

More confident, too.

Tossing your hair over your shoulder, you announced you were going to the bathroom but merely used it as an excuse to walk by the Devils group, intent on catching your boyfriend’s eye.

Feeling an arm brush against you, you were momentarily distracted when you turned around to find a man about your age looking down at you with a grin that told you he was already several shots ahead of you. He was sporting a Flyers jersey, too.

“You from Philly?” you think the man asked, but it was hard to understand the slur of his words over the loud boom of the music.

You gave him a tightlipped smile before giving your response. Despite the fact you were on a mission to make your boyfriend jealous, you weren’t actually wanting nor intending to cross a line. “No,” you shrugged, taking a small step back. “But I can still be a fan, right?”

As the man laughed, you turned your head back towards where you last saw Jack and sucked in a breath when you saw the look on his face.

Jack had seen you the moment you walked into the bar. He was just drawn to you like that, noticed every little detail about you—including the bright orange Flyers jersey you were currently wearing that made him clench his hand around his drink so hard the glass almost shattered.

What the fuck? He practically growled as he watched you walk up to your friends without sparing him a glance. You hadn’t noticed him yet, and he wasn’t sure if that made him feel relieved or guilty, because what were you even doing here? You normally always stayed in.

Then Jack had the realization that oh, yeah, you did always stay in—because of him, his schedule, his late nights, and he couldn’t even be bothered to come home to you until the early hours of the morning.

Well then, he thought. That solved the mystery of why you’d been so pissed off at him lately.

The forward anxiously ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t blame you, either.

“Why do you look like you just fucked up?” Nico’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and Jack only cast him a quick glance before relocating you just as you stood up from your booth.

“Because I did,” he said, not taking his eyes off of you as some idiot wearing a Flyers jersey grabbed your attention. “Badly. Very badly.”

Nico followed his teammate’s gaze, furrowing his brow in confusion until he saw you, wearing a—

“Oh,”

Jack had the face of one who couldn’t decide if he wanted to kill you or the guy next to you who still hadn’t taken the hint that you weren’t nearly as interested in him as he was in you. The centerman’s eyes were abnormally dark in the club’s dim lighting, simmering with jealousy and protectiveness.

But that was the entire point of coming here tonight, wasn’t it?

Plastering on a wide, fake smile, you met your boyfriend’s searing gaze and merely shot him a pointed look before attempting to make conversation with the inadvertently talkative man still blabbering on beside you.

He was handsome in a rugged kind of way if you were into that sort of thing, and towered over you in both height and weight much like Jack, but whereas with your boyfriend the size difference made you feel safe and protected, this guy just made you feel smothered and uncomfortable.

He was well past drunk, though, so you figured he couldn’t do that much harm. You hadn’t let him come very close to you either and were trying to maintain a respectful distance knowing Jack was probably having a very hard time restraining himself from marching over and making a scene.

You were just trying to get back at him, as petty as it may be…

The man whose name you later found out to be Todd managed to keep a fifteen-minute conversation going on about himself – which you found mildly impressive – so when he finally started to trail off, you began to make your escape.

“Nice talking with you, but my friends are probably looking for me,” you said, dodging Todd’s attempts at trying to touch you.

“Awe, c’mon, babe, I’m sure they don’t care,” Todd tried to wink, but it looked like he was having some type of muscle spasm instead. You nervously laughed, trying to back away, but then he suddenly stepped in front of you and got so close you could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Don’t be a tease, now,” he slurred, his eyes heavy-lidded and dark. You tried backing away, but quickly hit the counter of the bar where you were now caged in. Fuck, you gulped, feeling very uncomfortable as he crept his hands up your waist. “Get off me, please,” you said, trying to sound stern, but even you could hear the shakiness in your words.

Panicked, your eyes darted around the room looking for any of your friends you came with or even any of the guys you passed earlier, but in the darkness of the club, you came up empty. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling helpless and regretting all of your life choices leading up to this moment, and tried to get away from the face that was steadily creeping closer until you heard a voice all too familiar.

A thunderous voice suddenly boomed over the music, and your eyes shot open in shock at the sight in front of you.

“Get the fuck off of her,” Jack's voice was livid, the edges of a growl erupting from his chest as you watched his hand clamp down on Todd’s shoulder to forcefully yank him away. “Ever heard of consent, asshole?”

You watched, stunned, as your boyfriend’s dark eyes glared daggers into Todd’s whose collar was currently in his grasp. Jack might have been a few inches shorter, but he was stronger and clearly more sober as Todd stumbled in his grasp.

“Dude, chill,” you sucked in a breath as he tried pleading with your murderous-looking boyfriend. “I didn't know she was your girl,” trying to get away from a potential brawl, you stumbled back and in your confusion ran right into someone.

Having just been practically assaulted, you jumped as a hand came to rest on your shoulder. You were sure you resembled something of a startled animal and felt almost embarrassed at the situation you found yourself in.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s just me!” Nico’s reassuring voice immediately had you relaxing, and you released a breath as you spun around to face him. Gladly taking the arm the captain offered, you smiled shakily.

“You okay?” He asked once you were safely next to him. You nodded slowly, blinking past the slight pounding of your head. “Yeah,” you replied, your eyes finding Jack and Todd still exchanging heated words a few feet away.

They had won your attention back just in time for you to watch the centerman shove your drunken pursuer to the floor and then step away immediately before doing something worse.

Jack’s eyes quickly found yours as he brushed his hair away from his face, scanning up and down your body for any sign of injury. You knew he was furious with you, but even pissed beyond belief, he was still the most attractive man in the world to you because of how he put your safety and well-being first.

He walked up to you then, nodding his thanks to his teammate for keeping you safe before pulling you into his chest. “Are you okay?” He murmured into the top of your hair, one of his hands squeezing your hip reassuringly.

You inhaled your boyfriend’s scent, burying your face in his shirt and reveling in the comfort his mere presence brought you. “I’m okay,” you whispered, feeling tired now that the night’s events had started to catch up to you. “I love you,”

You felt him murmur the exact words back, the tension slowly leaving his body the longer he held you in his arms and away from the idiot who had his hands on you.

Jack stepped back after a moment, keeping you tucked into his side with a protective arm wrapped around your waist. You kept your face pressed into his side, not yet willing to face reality.

All you wanted right now was him. And your bed, too.

“We’re going to head home for the night,” the centerman said to the rest of the group, hearing no disagreements as they spoke their goodbyes. You lifted your head only slightly to say your own goodbye, giving an extra thankful smile to Nico who merely waved you off.

As you finished talking to the rest of his teammates, you tapped Jack's shoulder and spoke into his ear over the loud music. “I’m going to say bye to my friends real quick,”

Jack had a look of apprehension and even worry on his face, so you stood up on your toes to press a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll be fast, okay?”

“Okay,” he said. “But nothing more than that. I’ll be by the door.”

You cast him a grateful smile before slipping away, locating two of your friends still sitting at the booth looking far more inebriated than before. “Jack and I are heading home,” you told them.

“Oh! You guys worked it out?”

You bit your lip, fiddling with one of your sleeves. Huh, orange wasn’t really your color.  “Not exactly,” quickly glancing back towards your boyfriend waiting by the club doors, you winced when you saw his darkened expression. “He’s a little angry with me…”

“Because of the jersey?” they asked, curious. “That’s what you wanted, right?”

You decided you were going to blame the hideous Flyers jersey you were wearing for the series of unfortunate events that happened tonight.

Speaking of, you needed to give it back to the friend who lent it to you, at some point.

“I’ll see you guys,” you muttered, purposefully dodging their questions as you waved goodbye. Luckily, they were too drunk to argue.

You made your way back through the crowd, Jack meeting you halfway to lace your fingers together before leading you to the exit. His pace was quick, and determined, making you wonder just what exactly he had planned.

The cold Jersey air sobered you immensely once you were outside, ridding you of the effects the alcohol had left on you earlier. You finally got a clear look at your boyfriend then, admiring the sharp cut of his jawline and the way he was still fuming even as you walked to his car.

“Jack?” you tried, watching as he pulled open the passenger door for you. “Get in,” he said, avoiding your imploring eyes. “And take that off. You know it looks awful,” he added the last part as an afterthought, scowling at the sight of you wearing a jersey sans his name.

You thought about making a joke but decided against it when you saw the look on his face. He didn't look like he was in the mood for games right now, and something told you you didn't want to test him.

“I’m not wearing anything underneath,” you responded meekly. You heard Jack sigh, and you briefly looked up to find him pulling out a hoodie he had in his backseat.

It was red, of course, a Devils hoodie with his surname printed on the back. The hockey player stared at you, arms crossed and eyebrows raised and that's when you realized he was waiting.

“What, you mean change now?” you squeaked, feeling your eyes widen at the seriousness in his eyes. “Jack, we’re in a public parking lot,”

“And?” he asked, almost sassy considering the situation. “You really think I’ll let anyone look at you?” his muscled arms tensed out of reflex, further cementing his point.

You clenched your jaw, opening your mouth to argue, but then Jack took two quick strides towards you until you were standing chest-to-chest.

He said your name once, placing his hands on your waist to pull you closer. “I almost beat that guy back in the bar to death for placing his hands on you. I would have, actually, if it weren’t for seeing you look so scared next to Nico,” he murmured, staring into your eyes so deeply you couldn’t look away.

“It’s bad enough having to see you wear our rival’s jersey, which I deserve, by the way, because I’ve been an ass to you—but if I have to see you wearing someone’s name that isn’t my own for the rest of the night any longer, I might commit a crime.

“Please,” he breathed, tilting his head downwards to brush your lips together. “Take off the damn jersey.”

All you could do was nod. Yes sir. You maintained eye contact all while you slipped the jersey from your shoulders, feeling immensely better without the scratchy fabric on your skin. Jack wordlessly handed you his hoodie, and you slid it on without complaint.

It was several sizes too big for you; it was loose around your waist and hips and the sleeves were too long for your arms, but you didn’t care one bit because it smelled just like him and made you feel safe and warm and most importantly:

Home.

Jack raked his eyes up and down your body in approval, but he was still tense even as he opened the passenger door for you and shut it once you were in without a word.

You had a feeling you were going to be in for it when you got home, and even with his anger – whether it was directed at you or himself – you didn’t quite blame him.

The only thing you weren’t quite sure of is if he was angry because you semi-flirted with another man or wore a jersey that wasn’t his… Both are completely plausible possibilities.

Jack, meanwhile, had to stop himself from looking your way because he knew he was going to snap, and that wasn’t fair on you. Yes, he had to sit back and watch another guy blatantly hit on you while wearing the opposing team’s jersey, but… You didn’t reciprocate any advances, and he would never fault you for the actions of another.

Just the mere thought of the jackass who had his hands on you made his knuckles turn white on the grip he had on the steering wheel. If not for the terrified look on your face to snap him out of it, he had no doubt he would have pummeled the guy to the ground.

And at the same time, he knew he wasn’t angry with you but angry with himself instead because you had done nothing to warrant his behavior towards you and could even go as far as to say he deserved it, too.

He just wished he hadn’t walked out on you before—you wouldn’t have been almost assaulted if he hadn’t.

Alas, his anger – no matter who it was directed at – radiating off of him in waves was palpable and kept you tense and unsure of what to say or do the entire ride home.

When you finally arrived back at the apartment, the two of you remained silent as you worked around each other in getting ready for bed. For the first time in months he was going to fall asleep in the same bed as you, at the same time, you noted.

The brooding centerman muttered something aloud from the other side of the room, and you looked at him questionably. Jack met your eyes, an emotion unknown brewing in his own that made you curious.

“Orange is such an ugly color,” he said. “What convinced you to even wear that?”

A teasing mood he was in, then. “To make you jealous. Did it work?”

Jack scoffed, taking a few steps forward to playfully grab at your hips causing you to grip his biceps for stability. “It worked, alright,” he murmured, and then his eyes turned dark as he remembered the night’s end result before the two of you left. “I would’ve pummeled him if it weren’t for the guys.”

You bit your lip at the sight of his protectiveness for you written all over his face, hating that you were having a serious conversation now and all you could think about was how attractive he is.

“Then you would have gotten arrested, and probably suspended from the team,” you replied, bringing his attention back to you. Jack cracked a small smile, hair falling over his eyes as his gaze dropped.

“Worth it.” your boyfriend then brought you in close to wrap his arms around you, burying his head in his favorite spot where your neck met your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered after a moment, his grip on you tightening.

You had no complaints at his sudden burst of physical affection and happily burrowed your head in his chest, breathing in his comforting scent. “For what?”

You might have accepted the fact he was trying to make up for all the fighting over the last few months, but you weren’t just going to let it go, either.

After all, it was only due to you going out of your way to invoke such a strong reaction that got him to pull his head out of his ass.

“For everything,” his mind raced over all the ways he had been treating you wrongly, and had a hard time forming his words in such a way that covered it all. “For never coming home to you, and acting like you were ridiculous for feeling insecure,” he quickly clarified.

You made a noncommittal noise, muffled by the fabric of his shirt your face was pressed against. “I felt crazy—still do feel kind of crazy,” the tears came back then, the emotions – anger, frustration, sadness, fear – of the night catching up to you. “Did I… Was I doing something wrong?”

Jack felt his heart break at the sheer amount of emotion in your voice, and while knowing that the alcohol in your system was partly to blame for your unfiltered honesty, he knew the words you were speaking were still true.

He had to approach this conversation delicately.

He whispered your name, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek and sliding it under your chin so you’d meet his eyes. “Hey, hey, don’t cry, okay? I hear you. You’re valid, how you’re feeling is valid.

“I’m the stupid one, okay? You did nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing. Well—except for wearing that jersey. But, hey, I don’t even blame you for that, either. I deserved it, yeah?”

“I’m sorry,” you said, not willing to accept his apology because you still felt like he was being too forgiving.

Jack, not being able to stand you hiding from him, gently brought both his hands to your face so he could bring you closer and press a kiss to your lips. “Stop demeaning yourself. You’re better than that—certainly better than me.”

Your laugh was shaky, remnants of tears in your voice undeniable. “I don’t know. I wore that stupid jersey, after all. To make you mad. Deliberately.”

“And it worked,” he replied, refusing to let you shy away from him when you tried ducking your head again. “Very well, in fact. It was really smart, actually; I’m almost proud of you for thinking of it.”

Jack was already making you feel miles better compared to how you were feeling before, and you knew he was using his humor on purpose. His corny jokes were what drew you to him in the first place, after all.

“Almost proud?” you couldn’t help but tease back. “Maybe I should wear a Hurricanes jersey next time. Ooh, or the Rangers,”

The centerman had enough then, and with a wicked grin threw you over his shoulder to bring you into the bathroom. You weren’t drunk, but you were a bit tipsy, and he just wanted to use it as an excuse to really take care of you.

He also just felt really bad, like a shitty boyfriend, too. He had a lot of making up to do and knew this was only the first step.

“There will be no jerseys owned by you unless they are Devils’ red and have my name on the back, yeah?” you pouted as he set you down on the counter next to the sink.

“Fine. Orange is an ugly color, anyways.”

Jack hummed in agreement as he wet a washcloth with warm water and then began to gently wipe down your face. He worked in silence, concentrated on the task at hand while you just admired his face.

Okay, yeah, you were still a little tipsy. Your boyfriend always looked good, but maybe it was just about what happened tonight that had you really appreciating his looks.

“What’re you staring at?” Jack said, biting his lip to hide the grin threatening to break through. He loved that you couldn’t keep your eyes off him.

“You,” you replied with no hesitation, giggling when he proceeded to wipe directly over your eye at your witty comment. “I can’t help it. You’re just so pretty. Why do you like me, again?”

Your boyfriend scoffed, tossing the washcloth somewhere on the sink before pulling you closer to him. “Pretty? What if I lose a tooth, would you still like me then?” he briefly washed his hands, and then turned back to you. “And why do I love you, you mean? That’s easy. Let me show you.”

“Show me?” you muttered, your brain still running slow. “What do you mean, ‘show me’—”

That’s when he interrupted you by picking you up, moving your legs to wrap around his waist before carrying you to the bed.

Jack kicked off his shoes before falling on his back first while taking you with him. You ended up sprawled on his chest, his arms holding you close as you tilted your head up to meet his eyes.

“Being able to manhandle me is why you love me?” you said teasingly. “Noted,”

The centerman groaned dramatically. Knowing you were about to speak, he interrupted your next sentence by kissing you and grinned into your lips when you sighed with pleasure and brought your hands up to tangle in his hair.

“Done being sassy now?” your boyfriend hummed as he slowly pulled back, looking every bit the mischievous devil as the team he played for.

“Hmm,” you blinked lazily, stretching as if you were a satisfied cat, and wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him close. “As long as you stay here with me,”

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

A few minutes later of the two of you making up for lost time, you had eventually moved to be cuddling under the bed sheets as the little spoon, just how you liked it.

“Don’t wear that jersey again,” Jack grumbled into your neck, pressing a few butterfly kisses to the skin exposed to the air.

“Seriously?” you giggled, attempting to turn around in his arms but being stopped due to the strength of his hold.

“Dead serious. It almost killed me.”

You were used to his dramatics by now but knew he was speaking from his heart because jerseys really did mean a lot to sports players, hockey players especially. Wearing Jack’s name might have just been superficial, but it was still a sure thing and a testament to the seriousness of your relationship.

Wearing someone else’s name, especially someone from an opposing team, was an insult to that even though it was just a piece of clothing at the end of the day.

“Better stay on my good side, then,” you teased, but knew you wouldn’t ever wear any other jersey but Jack’s again. He learned his lesson, as did you.

Teasingly nipping at your neck, your boyfriend merely laughed before burying his head in your shoulder and closing his eyes.

You snuggled closer to the warm wall of muscle behind you, reveling in the comfort of knowing your relationship was stronger than ever.

“I love you,” you said, quietly, staring out the window as the stars looked down upon you.

“Love you, too,” Jack whined at the sharp pain he felt from your arm as it swatted at him, and then quickly clarified. “I mean, I love you—I love you, too!”

You grinned, and you knew he could practically feel it which made the small victory even more satisfactory.

Jack muttered something else under his breath, one word suspiciously sounding like ‘jersey’, and then he was out like a light.

Exasperatedly, you sighed. Hockey players.

You wouldn’t wear a jersey that didn’t have the name ‘Hughes’ and his number printed on it ever again.

A/N: Did you guys like the missing tooth reference? One of my favorite lines in this tbh, I just love poking fun at situations like those lol. Anyways, please please please reblog and comment because it means the world to me and makes writing so much more worth it. I hope y’all enjoyed :))

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[devilst0at]

I do really want to comfort Dale, especially since we know that he is tired and sad and lonely and so exhausted from working for the devil, but…

I think I need him to comfort me even more. I need him to be there for me so bad, I don’t know what it is but he seems like such a comforting presence. It sounds funny, because obviously he’s meant to be a frightening character, a villain. But he genuinely seems like he would be so sweet and so good at comforting and taking care of someone. I think maybe I partially feel this way because I’m chronically lonely/have trouble socially and generally don’t receive as much comfort from others as I need, so a character like Dale who I adore so much and who is even weirder and more outcasted than me just seems like the perfect person to be there for me when I need it. Not sure if anyone else feels that way.

I would kill to just be friends with him, it doesn’t even have to be romantic though I obviously would want it to be, I just wanna talk to him and tell him everything and seek comfort and advice from him, almost like a guiding figure (I mean he is much older than me lmao I’m 21) or at least like someone I know I could go to for help or comfort. Our relationship would be a bit odd considering our age difference but I think it would make it even more comforting, he has more experience in the world than me. I have absolutely no idea what about his screentime/character says that he would be a good friend, I just have a feeling. I feel like if I started crying in front of him he would hold me so nicely and shush me and do that cute silly little ‘ohh’ and pity me and pet my head until I stopped crying. I could never be anxious or scared with him. Which again is so funny because he is supposed to be scary but I’m very serious.

And he’s silly! He would be able to make me smile and giggle when I need it the most and he’d take me out shopping and he’d do my makeup for me and he’d carry me to bed whenever I’m too tired to get up from the couch. If I ever felt rejected or weird or self conscious I could go to him and we’d rejoice in each other’s oddness. I just know it. I wanna go shopping together and then listen to music on the way back, and I’d scream the lyrics so loud my throat would hurt and I’d tire myself out, and then I’d rest my head on his shoulder the rest of the way home and smile and fall half asleep.

Dale to me is someone who got caught up with the devil, perhaps due to needing that guiding or powerful force in his life or seeking something that was missing from his life, perhaps love or acceptance or meaning, and started doing all these awful things for the devil because it’s what he had to do, even though it’s not in his nature. He acts out of service to Satan, not out of genuine malice towards others or the urge to hurt or kill - just love and devotion to Satan, and I feel that underneath this web he’s caught himself up in, he is a sweet, gentle person trapped and dampened by evil influence (Satan to me is not entirely evil, it’s more nuanced than that, but obviously the act of killing innocent people is evil). He’s a creative, and that’s how he does his work, as is his nature - if he is to kill, if he must, he’ll do it artfully and distantly, make beautiful things crafted with love and care to be the devices of death.

To a normal person it may be hard to understand, but he’s someone I really wish I had in my life and I would just kill to curl up into his arms after a long day and stay there as long as I needed. I’m definitely one to see the good and the sweet in awful, broken things. I see so much beauty in him and I really feel the softest, purest affection for him ❤️‍🩹

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

The idea of Lucifer time tracking back to Eden times. He meets Adam and falls in love, seeing and understanding how lonely and abounded Adam felt. He finally understands how much his actions hurt Adam and while he couldn’t intervene due to the possibility of losing Charlie, he tries to make up for it with himself.

Lucifer is able to travel back and forth between Eden and the ‘old hell’ where he begins to rebuild it.

Basically Lucifer becomes Adams friend while his other self is still sneaking around with Lilith.

Adam: you look like lucifer ?

Lucifer: ah, well that’s…I mean, I’m not ‘lucifer’ I’m somebody else.

Adam: why do you look like him then?

Lucifer: all angels are made to have some resemblance between them. For example Michael looks like Lucifer too, does he not?

Adam: yes he does…but lucifer said that’s because their twins and were born from the same star???

Lucifer: that’s right. I’m their elder brother! Yes! I was born before them, that’s why THEY look like me

Adam: oh okay. Then why haven’t Lucifer ever talked about you?

Lucifer: you see Adam…I did something bad

Adam: bad?

Lucifer: hmm. I did something father disapproved off and I was punished for it

Adam: punished?! Are you okay?

Lucifer: oh I’m fine now! Don’t worry about that!

Adam: that’s good. But where were you all this time?

Lucifer: part of my punishment was to be sent somewhere

Adam: where?

Lucifer: a…a place called hell. It is a dangerous place with very bad people.

Adam: and you were to watch over them?

Lucifer: um yes? I am the king of hell

Adam: so what is your name?

Lucifer: you can call me the devil

Adam eagerly tells Lilith and lucifer all about his new friend. At first Lilith is excited about this new Angel while lucifer is bewildered. Eventually they came to the conclusion Adam made ‘the devil’ up and begin to disregard him again. Even the other archangels don’t believe Adam when he talks about devil lucifer . Until one day when Lilith and lucifer are caught by heaven and Lilith is punished for refusing to be the mother of humanity (before eve was supposed to created) Devil Lucifer makes his presence known.

Lucifer: Adam does not need a new wife.

Sera: who…who are you?

Lucifer: why, I’m sure Adam told you y all about me

Michael: I suppose you’re the devil he speaks then?

Lucifer: I suppose so

Michael: leave this place! You are not welcome in Eden!

Lucifer: I am the King of Hell. You are no match for me, Michael.

Sera: what are you intentions with the first man?

Lucifer: he will be my queen.

Afterward the archangels return to heaven, leaving Adam, devil lucifer, archangel lucifer and Lilith still in Eden.

Adam is confused and hurt by everything. He is hurt by Lilith and archangel lucifer, and confused by devil lucifer. He runs away when devil lucifer tries to convince him to leave Eden and come to hell with him. This allows the two lucifers to meet.

Archangel lucifer is jealous and miffed.

Devil lucifer uses this opportunity to insult his old naive and stupid self lol

A rivery sparks between the two while Lilith is extremely confused over everything. Especially when she realises devil lucifer wants Adam, not her.

lol

Now we have a confused and scared Adam

A possessive yandera devil king lucifer

A jealous and second guessing his choices archangel lucifer

A pissed and jealous Lilith

Maybe Adam gets the best of both worlds or maybe he avoids both lucifers and lives his life peacefully in Eden.

Don’t know if eve would be made now. A new man would definitely have to be made due to devil lucifers involvement so eve could be made from the new man or Lilith eventually gets with the new man?

Wow the amount of drama!! I love it!

See, if Lilith and Angel Lucifer slept together already Charlie could still exist.

I think Eve would still be made and another man.

I just want Devil Lucifer and Angel Luicfer to fight over Adam LMAO. Devil Lucifer would feel more entitled to be with Adam I think? Both would be jealous for sure.

Maybe Adam would suggest being with both of them but THEY don't want to share HIM.

[ghastlyfilters]

BETRAYAL !

— “AND I HELD YOUR HAND THROUGH ALL OF THESE YEARS, BUT YOU STILL HAVE.. ALL OF ME.”

pairing; billy loomis x fem!reader

summary; what if your biggest betrayal was by someone you’d held the hand of for so many years? billy loomis was supposed to be a pleasant never ending dream, not a soon to be distant memory turned into your one, true nightmare. (reader is replacing the role of sidney)

author’s note: HI. (i was half asleep whilst writing this and found it in my drafts. after reading it, i’m gonna guess it’s something about the whole ‘betrayal’ thing and the reader not knowing the darker truth behind billy’s motive if he is actually the killer? little does she know lmao. but anyway, take this whilst i go finish some requests and write other content. more reqs are open as always. even when i’m busy, i like writing requests here and there. or i’ll leave them for a bit and come back to em! enjoy this fic that i honestly don’t know why my half asleep self wrote💀)

PLEASE DON’T READ IF MENTIONS OF BETRAYAL, DEATH, OR ANYTHING HORROR RELATED AFFECTS YOU!!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

A shiver ran down your spine as flashbacks of hearing about the deaths of Casey Becker and Steve Orth came creeping back into your head. Had the killer intended for you to be next? Or were you just another random teen fit into this psycho’s cruel joke.

Everything was happening all too fast. Yes, you were now sat in Woodsboro police station after being taken in for your own safety. But did you truly feel safe?

No.

“Y/n?” A voice called out.

“Y/n??”

You quickly snapped out of your unpleasant thoughts, looking up to see Deputy Riley standing over you, holding out a small cup of water.

“Thanks, Dewey.” You whispered with a weak smile, accepting the water and placing it down beside you.

Dewey let out a small sigh as he put a hand on your shoulder. “Try not to overthink things, hm? We’ll have this all sorted out soon enough.”

You ran a hand through your hair, wincing at the sickly feeling you had in the pit of your stomach. You’d been incredibly nauseous ever since you arrived at the station. No wonder. You were probably still in shock after the events of tonight.

“Y/n, please. If you stress you’ll just make yourself even more shaken up than you clearly already are. Do you want me to get the nurse to check you over again?” Dewey asked.

“No, it’s alright. I’ll be fine.”

Dewey gave you a small pat on the back as he cleared his throat, slowly beginning to walk away.

“I’ll take you and Tatum home soon, kay?” He said, turning around one last time before heading back over to Sheriff Burk.

You resumed to wandering back into deep thought. Yeah, you were shaken up from the whole ‘killer’ part of tonight, but that wasn’t what hurt most.

Billy.

His name was beginning to feel like a distant memory, waiting for you to finally let go of.

‘Expect the unexpected,’ Most would say. But had you really imagined the one whom you thought you could trust the most would dare to hurt you?

Never.

After fighting for your life as the suspected killer tried to make it come to a brutal and bloody ending, Billy came out of nowhere, sneakily checking up on you every night as he had done for the past two years.

His timing was off. Way, WAY too off.

But the minute that damn phone fell out his pocket, you felt your heart stop immediately.

One hour ago, 34 Elm Street:

He was after you.

He was after YOU.

You yelped as Woodboro’s newly, anonymous killer made his move on you. He viciously kicked you to the floor with his large black boots, ready to gut you any second now.

Struggling, you desperately tried to pick yourself up, but it was no use. The killer grabbed a fistful of your hair, bashing your head against the laminate.

All you could think about was your upcoming cruel ending. How you were not going to see the ones you loved ever so dearly again. Tatum would never get to have late night movie sleepovers with you, Stu wouldn’t be able to make you giggle with his constant cheesiness, Randy and his little sister couldn’t ever see that bright smile of yours again whenever you’d go over to their house, and Billy, oh, Billy..

Your Billy.

You’d never get the chance to hear that soft voice of his ever again, almost as light as feathers themselves. The feeling of his undying love would soon be nothing. All the blissful memories you once shared were about to be over. Forever.

Finally, the monster behind the mask raised his sharp blade above you, ready to finish you off once and for all.

You quickly pushed him off you, sending the killer flying to the wall. Adrenaline had began to kick in. You couldn’t just be so defenceless and let him end you like that! You HAD to see your loved ones again. And you made sure this fucker wouldn’t prevent you from doing that anytime soon.

Quickly scrambling to the front door, you rattled the chain only to find it locked. Fuck. He could easily get back up in time whilst you tried to fix the lock. It wasn’t worth it.

Without hesitation, the killer got back up once again, launching himself at you. You ducked under him as he had clumsily managed to get his Buck 120 knife stuck in the door.

You headed for the stairs but knew he was hot on your heels. It didn’t take long for you to reach your bedroom, running over to the phone beside your bed desperately trying to dial 911.

“Shit!” You cursed. That bastard was still on the other end of the line.

Your only option was to contact them through the shitty computer you’d had for years now. The thing was slow, but you hoped it would be fast enough for you to alarm the police in time.

You whipped your head around only to see that the masked murderer was.. gone?

Before you could even stop and think for a moment, Billy rushed up to your window, climbing into the room. Oh dear god, it was like your prayers had finally been answered.

“Billy!” You breathed deeply, rushing towards him as if you were a small, frightened animal looking for your mother.

“I heard screaming,” Billy panicked. “The door’s locked. You alright?”

He watched you struggle to breathe properly out of pure fear. Fast, uneasy breaths. You clung to him, not letting go. Your sharp nails digging into his back. Not that he was bothered, that is.

“The killer’s here. He’s in the house! He’s in the house, he’s got a knife!” You cried, breathing in Billy’s cologne and masculine scent.

“He’s gone.” Billy said with a faint whisper, shushing you as you whimpered in his ear. “He’s gone, it’s alright.”

You were safe. You were in Billy’s arms for crying out loud! Everything was going to be fine.

A crash was heard as something had fallen out of your lover’s pocket, heading straight to the floor. You slowly turned your head around, staring directly at the item that had fell.

The phone.

You felt your throat close as it gave you that sickening, nauseating tingle you’d always hated. Your heartbeat became slower and slower. All you could do was stay in Billy’s arms, frozen out of fear before realisation truly hit.

Billy could feel the difference in your bodily functions, and cocked his head as you looked at him in horror, backing away.

“What?” He asked, his tone concerned.

You stared at your lover with pure disgust. Watching as he grew more and more confused. Your mind and mouth did not respond to his series of questions, demanding to know what was wrong and why you were looking at him with such terror.

Everything appeared to soon be ignored as you were only focused on one thing and one thing only.

Betrayal.

Your heart rate finally picked back up again, causing you to run out of the room. Billy followed behind, but you didn’t care. It wasn’t now until he realised you weren’t just running away, you were running away from HIM.

“Whoa, whoa, wait, wait! Wait, Y/n, wait!” Billy yelled, now full on going after you to get his answer.

You managed to get halfway down the stairs before he stopped chasing you, you could hear him screaming for you at the top of the staircase, leaning heavily onto the banister.

“Wait, wait, wait, WAIT! What’s going on?”

Your heart was in your throat whilst you could not believe what was happening right now. Too much, too soon.

“Y/n, come back!” He shrieked.

“Y/N!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Now, Woodsboro Police Station:

Tears welled up in your eyes as those dark memories of tonight replayed, ones that would never quite leave your head.

“Y/n!” The same voice from your flashback called.

You looked up, slightly wincing at who you saw through the window of Sheriff Burk’s office.

Him.

Billy stared intensely at you from afar through the glass, his eyes filled with nothing but anger and never ending thoughts of confusion.

Yet, something else hid behind those eyes. A dark type of mystery you weren’t ready to know yet.

It was as if your lover felt the same feeling of betrayal you were experiencing yourself. But not betrayal because you’d suspected it was him trying to kill you, something else that was far different. Something worse.

I mean, you hadn’t did anything, right? It was Billy who had made himself look as guilty as he did. Far too suspicious for anyone to believe for the time being. Yet, his aura practically told you he showed no signs of guilt..

You began to sweat nervously as he continued to stare. What if, it truly had nothing to do with Billy? Had timing been your saviour tonight? Was he innocent enough to prove he had only arrived to your house to see you again?

A darker truth lay untold for now. The feeling of betrayal was mutual, but something else just told one a devious message about the other.

Something was coming.

Something, bad.

Something that in reality, was already here..

B

E

T

R

A

Y

A

L.

[diazheartsbuckley]

Fuck It Friday ✨

I'm sorry for being AWOL (again lmao) but I've been working on the omegaverse fic literally every day for the past week and you're not gonna believe this, you guys - I DID IT!! I FUCKING FINISHED A FIC FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER 😭

So many of you have tagged me in these last few days and I can't wait to go through all of your amazing works 💕

Prev snippet here

(Story and tags under cut)

In the bedroom, he sits down carefully next to Buck and strokes his lower back gently, a soft sigh of relief escaping Buck’s lips as he feels the warmth of Eddie’s hand on his skin. “You’re in labor” Eddie states, his heart skipping a beat as a fatigued Buck sits up to meet his eyes in the darkened room. Buck swallows harshly, feeling bad for lying again. “Yes” He says and bites down on his lip, chewing on it gently as he places his hand on Eddie’s stubbled cheek. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Eddie’s heart aches in his chest, hating that Buck kept a truth from him once more. But this time, he was more willing to hear the reasoning why. “I didn’t want to take your time with your family away, I wanted you to be able to celebrate Christmas with them and to not worry about me. Besides he’s not supposed to be here for another three weeks and I think that-… that I didn’t say anything because that would make it all a little more real. I’m not ready, Eds. I’m not ready for this” Buck’s words are dripping with sincerity and he even sniffles quietly a few times to calm his racing heart down. Eddie reaches onto the nightstand and turns on the lamp, wanting and needing to look at Buck right now. He cups Buck’s head in his hands, feeling warm tears making their way down the sides of Buck’s face and he lets out a deep breath, one that had seemingly been growing inside of him because the pressure on his chest lessens. “Hey, let’s just get one thing clear, okay?” Eddie begins and tilts Buck’s head carefully, making him look into his eyes. “You are my family, mi amor. You and our son are my family too and I will always, always worry about you. Even if you don’t say it out loud. And I don’t want you to hide something like this just because my family is around. We’re in this together” He says, concern etched deep into his face as he holds eye contact with Buck, not letting him look away. “And I know that he isn’t supposed to be here just yet but we’ll handle it. We’re ready, you are ready, baby. You hear me?” His voice grows a little more firm as Buck averts his gaze and shakes his head, not wanting to hear it. “What if I’m a horrible dad? What if…” Buck wipes his tears away with the back of his hand, all of his unspoken fears bubbling to the surface as another contraction surges through his body, making him wince in pain and surprise. “What if he’s like me, Eddie? What if he’s an omega too? I spent so many years hating who I was because of it, feeling like I wasn’t good enough. What if I’m just as strict as my father and I can’t love him how I’m supposed to?” Buck’s voice breaks at the end of his sentence, insecurities washing over him like a tidal wave, sweeping away all of the confidence that he’s spent years building, with it, leaving nothing but a wreck of a man. “You are not your father, Evan. Just being able to recognize that you don’t want to be like your father is already a step in the right direction. I know that you will never hurt him like your father has hurt you, I know that you will help our son build the confidence and strength to be proud of who he is, no matter what. I know that you already love him and would do anything to see him happy. You are going to an amazing dad, you already are an amazing dad, promising to not be like your own and loving our son so damn much” Eddie’s speech is filled with adoration, love and so much pride in knowing that he’s creating a family with someone like Buck. Someone who loves so unconditionally. Someone who, in the face of adversity, is still able to show others how strong that he is. Someone who’s kind and caring. Someone makes Eddie want to be a better version of himself. That’s the man that Eddie knows that he’ll love for the rest of his life.

Tagged by @daffi-990 @giddyupbuck and @diazsdimples for FIF 🌹

Tagging!! @theotherbuckley @thewolvesof1998 @devirnis @jesuisici33 @hippolotamus @evanbegins @exhuastedpigeon @wildlife4life @loserdiaz @athenagranted @tizniz @wikiangela @cal-daisies-and-briars @honestlydarkprincess @disasterbuckdiaz @butraura @lover-of-mine 🦋💗

[thestobingirlie]

something I really don't like is when Steve's dad/parents are written as like, cartoonishly abusive as a way to get him together with Eddie. Like I've read a lot of meaningful and amazing fics where his relationship with his parents has been explored without it feeling like just a way to hurt him so Eddie can swoop in to comfort him, but I've also read fics where Steve is like, full on sobbing and melting down bc he broke a plate and his dad would've beat him for it. So then Eddie gets to save the day! Like I'm not saying this kind of trauma response isnt real. As someone who was emotionally abused by my mom and has cptsd, I still have a hard time not getting emotional and nervous when I break something even though I know my partner isn't like that. But the way people write about it makes me feel like they just want Eddie to be able to jump in and comfort him and heal him from his trauma when what he really would need is therapy lol. Also, the fact that there will be like terrible physical abuse when there's no evidence of this happening in canon makes me feel like people don't understand that abuse doesn't have to be like that to be incredibly damaging...emotional abuse and neglect have just as much effect on a person and ultimately none of it is going to be cured by Eddie munson coming in and telling you that don't worry, you are lovable and I am going to cuddle your trauma away. If this were true, my partner would have been able to fix me years ago lmao. Sorry for the long ask, I do love steddie and I think there are a lot of amazing writers and fics who characterize them really well, but I also think that writing abuse this way is kind of gross, especially when you then continue to put your characters in an abusive or at least toxic relationship but treat it like it's healthy and romantic

when it comes to parents, this fandom can be very all or nothing. they’re either horribly abusive in every single way possible, to the point that they’re basically a disney villain, or they’re the best parents around and never do any wrong! and both get pretty boring.

i think a lot of storylines in steddie fics exist to kind of… have eddie ‘rescue’ steve. from his jock-ness, from his interests, from his parents and his life. i don’t doubt it’s supposed to be romantic and present eddie as steve’s saviour, but it just ends up seeming kind of codependent, with just a bit too much focus on romantic love as the be all and end all (for me).

anyway, i think a lot of the attitude towards parents in this fandom is just focused on getting rid of most of them so they don’t have to waste time on them. steve’s parents are abusive, so he can just move in with eddie and wayne! or they’re neglectful and never at home, and now max (whose mother is either just dead or abandoned her) can move in with steve. robin’s parents are homophobic, and most of the parties parents just never get mentioned lmao. it’s all just abuse for the sake of abuse. so characters can be sad and parentless. i know i’m an outlier in this, but i actually really enjoy thinking about all the teens parents, and what their relationships may be like.

sometimes i worry that this fandom only sees the horrific physical abuse as abuse, because, like you said, a lot of people treat abusive or toxic relationships like they’re healthy. i honestly don’t think they recognise the abusive traits they’re representing, because it’s not ‘obvious abuse’.

[brutal-nemesis]

Goretober VII: Pas-tell Me About It

The concept of this was a crack idea I had on a whim but I feel like it turned out better than I expected lmao so enjoy the @coyotehusk goretober content 🤪

←Previous - Castys Masterlist - Goretober Masterlist - Next→

Ingredients: yes i really did pastel gore in writing, vivisection, beheading, body horror vibes, emeto mention

Honestly, Castys was starting to get kinda bored of vivisection. Like, wow, there were his guts. They’re the same as the last eight times he saw them. Spice it up for once, why don’t you?

Somehow, Kuro must have read his mind, and he really regretted wishing for something different.

What she brought over after cutting him open wasn’t a knife or a hammer or a chisel, no needles or hooks, just…paint. “We already did the art class bit, didn’t we? What’re you gonna do with those?” 

Kuro laughed as she dipped her paintbrush into a glob of light purple. “I’m going to paint, of course. You’ll just have to come up with more jokes.” Castys sighed, sort of watching as she started to brush the paint over his ribs. This was fucking stupid. Who the hell even thought of painting someone’s literal organs? And, like, why? Why the fuck? And as always, despite the awful bizarreness of his situation, he couldn’t do much of anything about it. He just had to lie there as she turned his bones purple. Well, not all of his bones, thankfully, just some.

His lungs were pale blue. It was always strange to watch them move as he breathed,  swelling and shrinking. Smirking, he breathed in and out as quickly as he could, causing Kuro to smudge blue paint on his ribs. She slapped him pretty hard for that, but it was worth it. Not enough to do it again, though, so he kept his breathing steady for the remainder of the time she spent on his lungs.

His liver was pastel green. Green made him think about plants, which made him think about how long it’d been since he went outside. He’d been stuck in this same stupid torture room the whole time since he got kidnapped, and not even seeing the sun was starting to weigh on him a bit. It was the sort of thing he didn’t appreciate as much as he should until it was gone, but at least it wasn’t gone for good. He’d be able to go outside again…someday.

His stomach was a muted yellow. At least this didn’t hurt in itself, just the standard pain from being torn open like a candy wrapper. He missed having candy, and the fucking blood vomit chocolate did not count. Even water would be nice, too, just to wash the taste of blood out of his mouth, but why bother when he didn’t need it to live? Who cares if he felt the pain from hunger and thirst?

His large intestine was a faded orange. Being cut open like this was cold, both because he wasn’t wearing anything besides shorts and because he’d lost quite a bit of blood from the whole process. Oh, and his organs weren’t fucking insulated against the open air, which was probably actually what was making him so cold. Was he gonna end up dying from hypothermia? His fingers and toes were sort of numb, now that he thought about it. Hopefully if he died she wouldn’t start this all over again.

His small intestine was…pink. It was already pink, and Kuro was painting it a different shade of pink, which seemed stupid, but then again this whole thing was very stupid. At least this was probably almost over, since he didn’t have any more large visible organs left, as far as he could tell. What the fuck was she gonna do when she was done? The paint was going to stay inside him if he died, and he’d rather not get poisoned by it over and over or something.

“Alright, I’m all done! I want you to see, but I feel like you won’t really be able to appreciate it from there.”

“From-what the fuck does that mean? Am I supposed to-oh.” 

Kuro hefted the ax, tentacles removing the strap over his neck but keeping his head in place. “Just hold still for a second.”

When Castys came back to life, he was lying on the cold stone floor. He sat up and rubbed his neck, wincing when he felt blood. He really, really didn’t want to stand up and see his old body, still strapped to the table and painted, but Kuro pulled him up by the hair and yanked his hands behind his back with her tentacles when he tried to resist. So he had to look.

It was his corpse, he knew it was, but it didn’t look like him in the slightest. His head was fucking gone, for one, since Kuro had chopped it off and caused him to regenerate a new body from it, which is why he’d left this one behind and didn’t heal it. And the organs were…something. Pastel colors like that didn’t belong inside a person like that, softening the glisten of their organs, almost making them look like candy, something oddly beautiful and disgusting at the same time. He wanted to take a hammer or something to it and destroy it, wash all those colors out in red. Then he could believe it was his body.

“Well, Castys, what do you think?”

“I think you’re the most batshit fucking insane person I’ve ever met.”

“I’ll take it.”

Next→

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump​ @blackrosesandwhump​ @fanmanga1357-blog​​ @thehopelessopus​ @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi​ @hearse-song​ @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen​​ @galaxywhump​ @starnight-whump​ @his-unspoken-words @misspelledwitch​ @suspicious-whumping-egg​ @pumpkin-spice-whump @painsandconfusion​ @i-can-even-burn-salad​​ @befuddled-calico-whump @whumpinggrounds​ @whump-queen​ @whumpedydump​

[imfrom-neptune]

Rambly brain dump

I’m probably venting actually idk

Maybe don’t read this I just need to put it somewhere

I don’t think I realized that all the shit that happened just genuinely wasn’t as funny as I thought it was

Like it was happening and I was like “lmao my dad broke in a window tryna get into my house”. But let’s be real. My dad broke in a window tryna get into my house. What?? That happened to me? I was supposed to go to a concert that night. I missed it because I was helping to clean up glass and keep my siblings entertained. My dad broke a window.

I freak out when cars pass by my window and get nervous when people knock in the door cause it reminds me of the night my dad had cops shine lights through our windows at 4am trying to see if we were home. And the stupidest thing is no, my mom wasn’t home. I was alone and I had to be brave and deal with that by myself. Because she stayed out with her boyfriend and was too much of a coward to come back and keep me safe.

I stayed up until 5am packing up and moving and leaving my entire life behind. I live in a little house with a tiny pull out bed and a toy box as a bedside table. I packed my shit up while my mom was throwing away my things and yelling at me for not being able to carry things that were too heavy. I still packed my things and I still ended up in this sad little house and I still left my safe place and I can’t ever go back. That home belongs to someone else. That place isn’t mine anymore.

And this doesn’t even only apply to things that happened during the divorce.

I had to have been like six at most, and my mom had my mouth tapped shut while I cried in a corner.

I’ve been locked out on my front porch at least three times. I was maybe 12.

My mom has been throwing out my things for years. It started with toys when I “misbehaved”, and now it’s things that actually matter to me. She broke into my fucking locker thing just to get into my personal stuff and throw it all away. And then she had the nerve to deny it. She threw away my art because she didn’t like it. She took away the apps I needed to make YouTube videos because she didn’t like them. Everything I’ve ever told her I liked, she’s always found a way to ruin.

When my parents found out I was queer they yelled at me about it for hours. Punished me for it. Told me I could tell anyone I wanted but no one would ever believe me. And y’know what? I told my Opa and he believed me. They’re probably half the reason I was so scared to tell him. But guess fucking what? They were wrong. And now they want me to believe they’re soooo supportive? Fuck that.

In 7th grade I was (for lack of a nicer way to say it-) very suicidal and I struggled slightly with hurting myself. Ofc I didn’t hurt myself in a way that mattered, I don’t even have scars anymore, but regardless. They found out about this, and punished me for that too. I literally wanted to be dead, thought I deserved it, and they grounded me for it. Didn’t help me at all. Just made me feel worse about it. I got myself clean and I made myself want to be alive again. They didn’t do anything for me.

I’ve been hit for things I shouldn’t have been. Sometimes I made the mistake of fighting back. I haven’t been hit since the divorce, cause y’know, they want me to like them. But I used to be hit all the time and I’m now realizing how scary that really is.

I’ve been threatened to have cops called on me. I’ve been threatened to be abandoned. I’ve been threatened to be killed.

I’ve been told straight up that my mother regrets me. Which is the funniest (or, maybe not funniest?) thing because I was literally unplanned. Though my mom refuses to admit it, I did the math, and my dad told me. We all know.

And I guess I just find it easier to play it like a joke. But it’s sorta hit me over the past two weeks that it actually affected me and I actually have problems because of it. It’s not funny. I may have had a childhood full of toys but I also had yelling outside my door at late night hours.

And I just played it as a joke because I didn’t know what else to do. Now it’s too late to be upset about it. It’s all happened and now I’ve gotta grow up and pretend it didn’t. I didn’t get the good parents. And I can’t do anything about it.

and it’s so scary cause if they can fake 20 years of love, what does that say about me? I’m both of them in one. I’m every bad thing they’ve done, put together. I’m a result of those mistakes. Am I designed to be as bad as they are? Cause I desperately want to be nothing like them.

I wish none of this ever happened to me. I remember too much and at the same find half of my memory is blank. I don’t know why I deserved this, and it makes it so hard to believe I didn’t. Why would such bad things happen to me if I didn’t deserve it? I did it all by myself for what reason?

[flutteringfable]

for the ask game- susbedo / aurelius :3

YIPPEE *starts vibrating at unmeasurable speeds*

first impression - i’m gonna be so completely honest that was so long ago i can barely remember. i don’t think i ever had beef with him like scara but i don’t think i liked him? like neutral i guess. it was cool to have the whole clone/twin/imposter whatever plotline so that adds some bonus points

impression now - i am. so normal (<- lying). this is mostly thanks to luna’s interpretation of him, but god he’s so interesting!!! guy who was supposed to be a whole other guy and feels the need to live up to that and is jealous of what the other guy has!!!! so much angst potential but also so much potential for someone (jietang) to swoop in and show him that he doesn’t have to be what he was told to be!! love the trans coding from that as well hehe. the whole thing with albedo and rhindottir and all her creations is so super interesting anyway.

favorite moment - that sickass thing he did with the ice crystals. like when he finally attacks traveler and their friends??? like i would be dead because that is the coolest attack ever. and YES i know that was whopperflower-bedo (totally different imposter) but it was cool and i think about it a lot. also the end of the quest where he’s musing as he walks thru the snow?????? hell yeah.

ideas for a story - well, i actually have a little something in the works for him and jietang, but here’s some other thoughts ive had about them <3

jietang showing aurelius around liyue and chenyu vale. aurelius gets to see goats for the first time and is enamored by their fluffiness. they climb a mountain and stargaze. just cute couple things.

aurelius snuggling jietang to keep him warm, and jietang complaining about not being able to hold aurelius’ hand outside of dragonspine because aurelius isn’t used to the warm climates of anywhere outside of dragonspine.

jietang bringing aurelius to the windblume festival. at this point aurelius has completely dropped trying to be albedo, and looks different enough to walk around with his boyfriend without suspicion. imagining venti Knowing but he’s happy to see aurelius being happy so he keeps his mouth shut.

unpopular opinion - similar to what luna has expressed in the past, i really don’t like the characterization of him as a yandere type. i just can’t see it, and i feel like people tend to force that archetype on characters they see as “evil.” hence why i haven’t really looked for other x listeners of him because they’re all kinda the same and it makes me uncomfortable. in the wise words of luna, it makes my tummy hurt.

favorite relationship - non romantically, i really wanna see him and albedo interacting outside of the Situation from the event. they should talk i think. i also think he would genuinely try and befriend traveler post-event at some point, to little success (fair enough, i guess, but still). and obvs he and jietang are my favorite ship. like cmon now lmao /lh

favorite headcanon - over time, even without someone to guide him, he realizes he doesn’t *have* to try and be albedo. he can be his own person, with his own name and appearance and likes and dislikes. it takes him a while to act on these thoughts, but he always ends up realizing this and eventually takes on a life of his own.

[luthorao3]

whump part 2 prompts, #7: “I can’t exactly help you if you won’t let me.” for ahri/evelynn

i want you to know i wrote about three different scenarios for this before i settled on this lmao, this is such a juicy line for these two!!! thank you!! <3

“What makes you think I need your help.”

It’s sharper than Evelynn intends for it to sound, but it achieves its goal immediately; Ahri pauses a foot away from her, hand still outstretched and hanging in the air between them, before she forces it back down to her side. Her eyes are the kind of hurt that Evelynn’s never been able to stand to see, so she turns her back on them and pretends to be busy clearing her vanity table.

Behind her, Ahri waits in silence.

It’s the kind of silence that presses in close against Evelynn’s back, tucks its chin over her shoulder, mouth against her ear. She can feel it breathing. It turns every hair up at the base of her neck with how hard she’s trying to ignore it.

Finally, quietly, Ahri speaks again.

“I know you don’t need it, Eve,” she says, still unmoving. Evelynn fiddles with a perfume bottle with focused interest. “That wasn’t why I offered it.”

“Then I don’t understand why you did.”

Evelynn turns in time to see Ahri’s expression change – see the anger distinguish itself from the hurt – and sets her jaw.

“Don’t you?”

There’s a look on Ahri’s face that Evelynn supposes she should recognise, something defiant and daring, but when she attempts to divine the intention beneath it, her stomach twists itself into knots. She’s spent too many years beneath a camera lens that it’s easy to scoff and pull on her poker face, dismiss Ahri with a flick of one hand, and step past her.

But Ahri does not let her get far.

Before Eve can process more than the hands that catch her by her upper arms, she’s being shoved backwards. Her body connects with the vanity in a rattle of clinking glass, all those perfume bottles clattering into each other, and Ahri crowds in close to her front, pinning her in place. Evelynn thinks she will kiss her, and prepares for it, but Ahri simply stares. Her hands have left Evelynn’s arms but have fixed themselves to her hips, like she means to hold her there, like Evelynn could not turn her body to liquid smoke and slip away as easily as the breath that leaves her lungs.

(She doesn’t.)

“Don’t you,” Ahri presses, “really?”

Evelynn wets her lips.

“Because I’ve been working very hard to make you see that I’m your friend.”

Humming, Evelynn calculates how little she would have to move for their noses to be touching. Takes note of Ahri’s grip around her hips. The bubblegum sweet of her lipgloss, close enough to taste. Maybe she’s just out of touch, maybe this is how friends react when you turn away their help, either way she is not asking for clarification.

“I wasn’t offering because I don’t think you can take care of it on your own,” Ahri continues, pressing closer into the space between them. “I offered because I could. Because I see how I can make your life the tiniest, slightest bit easier, and gods above, Eve, we both know you could use that much at least.”

There’s barely a gap between their bodies, now, barely space for Evelynn to drag her attention away from the way that Ahri has nestled herself so snugly between her legs, from the perfect honey of her eyes, from the fact that she still has not kissed her.

“And so the next time I offer to help,” Ahri says, “whether it’s to fix your hair, or pick up your laundry, or”— pressing a hand against Evelynn’s cheek —“to help you feed that insatiable appetite that’s threatening to destroy your career, what do you say?”

Evelynn does not realise how dry her mouth has turned until she tries to swallow.

Ahri’s hand is warm against her cheek. Inside her chest, her phantom heart beats faster than she’s ever allowed it.

“Yes.”

It’s conceding. It’s giving in. It’s giving herself over in a way that Evelynn would never— baring her throat, feeling hot breath against it just before the bite. It’s agony. It’s delirium. It’s perfection.

Ahri studies her expression knowingly and draws her thumb along her cheek, soothing, tender, far too soft.

“Thank you,” she says, then eases up.

Evelynn is still leaning against the wrecked vanity table when the door closes behind her.

Dazed, trembling, breathing hard.

[hotsugarbyglassanimals]

like tbh a lot of the strategies that were supposed to help me when unmedicated just . did not work. there were more factors than just “I can’t focus”

ok so let me break it down (lmao) . this is a long post

Low starting energy level

Every day I was waking up feeling like a computer that’s obsolete by a decade trying to boot up the latest 60 GB FPS. Let’s say my tasks were to:

- wash my hair

- do my laundry

- call and schedule an appointment

- clean my room

- clean the bathroom

- do my homework

- cook a nutritious dinner

At any given day, I’d only be able to complete two or three of these things. The nutritious dinner would have to be sacrificed for something as simple as grilled cheese, or something I could order (and healthier options are more expensive and there’s a longer wait ! so usually I’d have to opt for fast food). Not only would I not have the energy to do everything, but I wouldn’t have enough time in the day to do them either ! The downtime between tasks would last hours at a time and next thing I know it’s 11 PM.

Inability to recognize tasks needed to be done

This one is a bit complex, and partially why lists didn’t work. I’m kind of having a hard time thinking about how to explain this one… it’s also why “break it down into small steps” didn’t work either. My brain -could not slow down and process- what I needed to do. Computer metaphor again lol. Imagine opening every single application on your computer at once. The same obsolete one. Imagine how much that slows it down. Not to mention the visual clutter on the screen, right? Some of the windows are minimized and cut off on your task bar because there’s so many things, so you can’t see them either.

Tunnel vision / limited vision

This one is wild. Imagine having both of your hands at the side of your face. Can’t really see that much around you, can you? On my first dose of medication, my vision *literally* became wider. I could focus in my surroundings with a complete 180 degree field of vision. I went to work and noticed “new” (not actually new, they’ve probably been there for weeks or months) things at the same places I pass by nearly every day of the week. Your brain filters out information it deems useless.

This is the primary reason why lists don’t work, and why I could filter out any messes around me. I COULDN’T see them ! I literally could . not . see them ! My brain would just choose not to interpret them as a problem. You know how old animation would have background objects and you knew which one was going to be interacted with because it was drawn differently? When I have medication, those background objects became interactable ! Lists, calendars, and reminders would become background objects after awhile before !

burnout / fatigue

I’m not finished with the task yet, but my efficiency goes way down because my body became -physically and mentally- tired. I feel like I’m out of breath, it feels like there’s straining inside my head, and I can no longer care about how well I’m completing the task. It HURTS my head. It’s like I was doing reps with my brain and that arms feeling like jelly feeling happened inside of it.

Inability to start / switch tasks

This post is getting long enough so I’ve combined these things into one bullet point, but I could do a whole write up on either one of things. Ok, the inability to start. It’s the same as being unable to break the tasks down into simple components, but instead of just the inability to recognize what the steps are, it’s mixed in with that painful brain feeling. The task itself is overwhelming -because- of all the steps involved. this can be attributed to roadblocks that can occur when doing this task, so even the possibility of encountering them creates mental fatigue.

It’s like pushing a boulder downhill, the pushing is the hard part, but once pushed it keeps going. but it gets … hard to stop. and now you must get the boulder all the way to the top, and make that initial push again. Stopping is a step on its own (if a task is not done, or if a task’s finishing point is subjective) … and starting something else is another.

All of the bullets I listed would probably manageable on their own, but combined ? my life was a mess. I still struggle with sitting down to focus on some things I don’t quite want to do (or things I would like to do, but there’s Roadblocks in them), but that painful start and fatigue is a lot more manageable. I’m very glad cleaning and staying clean is fuckin possible now. Some days I can’t get to things, sure, but I can get a lot done in one day now. I feel so much more at home in my bedroom, and I can no longer feel massively embarrassed whenever someone comes in. Cooking still fucking sucks ass though

[nyandereneko]

I don’t even remember how I came across them in the first place but I recently discovered these Celtic songs and I’ve been listening to them obsessively thinking about Vax either catching Nova dancing to them or asking her to dance with him at the keep or the castle or a tavern or just wherever ToT they’re so catchy and I can’t stop imagining the duo twirling and bobbing and gliding to the beat and the notes, light on their feet yet immovable and really only drawing closer in each other’s arms. 

The first time they dance neither of them are sure when to let go, neither of them want to let go, they probably got snapped out of the perfect moment that wasn’t going to break without some outside interference anyway by Io or one of their other party members passing by, but damn I really ought to write that because I want to describe their expressions lol.

I’ve got a soft spot for dancing, I used to daydream about some of the best dancing scenarios with Cyrus, I suppose giving Vax some attention now in that regard can’t hurt! I think it would be really sweet and funny if Nova was singing about suitors and then Vax just happens to come by like “oh well we should dance to this together then” and of course it makes her feel embarrassed and self conscious but once she actually got into it she wouldn’t be able to think about or focus on anything but his mesmerizing face :3

And the idea of them dancing together at an official Moonweaver banquet celebration or ceremony or something fancy in Syngorn or Whitestone or even Nova’s Fae Realm home would be so amazing and extravagant and exciting!! And Lyrengorn too ToT they’re just going to dance together all over Exandria and even through the stars, how inspiring ToT ToT I’m so obsessed with them lmao.

The songs in question: link and link

[m1ckeyb3rry]

hii !!!

just got done reading the new SITH chapter & RAHHH CORDELIA IVE MISSED HER SMMM she’s exactly what the mc needs rn, a nice breath of fresh air & someone she can talk to even tho cordelia won’t understand much of her trauma like colt & friedrich can. nonetheless, cordelia is that female best friend that the mc needs :)) even tho she’s got her boys who will do anything for her & will listen to her talk abt anything, i definitely think she could use some girl time & a break from all the war talk. i’m already loving their friendship :))

i loved the understanding between the mc & marek. them being able to understand the brutality of the war & realizing they’re more alike than they thought at first glance makes that entire scene all the more heart wrenching. through their faults & trauma, they see each other as ppl who have been hurt by war & see beauty in each other despite heinous war crimes & irreversible burn scars. truly a beautifully written scene!!

& even tho there was a lack of canon characters this chapter, i still loved it!! the trio got their much needed break before they’re thrown back into more emotional, mental, & physical trauma. i’ve probably said this before lmfao, but i just love the trio’s dynamic sm & they mean the world to me <33 despite everything they go through, they’ll have each other & that’s just smth so dear to me.

i hope ur doing well & having a great week so far! mine has been pain filled due to starting volleyball practice & not having used my leg muscles in awhile haha. it’s been a bit hard for me to walk, much less run, so i’ve been taking it easy & going slow to build up my muscles again lmao! even if my legs feel like they’re falling off, i’ll push through! 🥲

— 🪐

HIII!! you’re so right honestly cordelia is so sweet and normal y/n really needs someone like that in her life to like balance out how traumatic every other facet of her existence is now 😭 and of course colt and friedrich care about her so much but lowkey she needs a friend who isn’t in love with her if that makes sense 😫

the mc and marek scene was honestly a spur of the moment decision!! the reason this chapter took so long was because i kept rewriting it and not liking how it was turning out. in the earliest drafts the mc’s depression had actually spiraled to the point that general magath straight up had to intervene because it counted as “destruction of marleyan property” 😨 also marek was such a jerk originally i’m going to be honest 💀 but i settled on this instead and ended up really liking it so i’m glad you do too!! and that’s what i was hoping would come across for them…while yes the mc is notorious for pulling guys left and right, marek wasn’t really supposed to be an example of that. it was a complicated scene to pull off so it’s good to hear you think I did so successfully 🤞🏻

there’s about five more chapters of a “break” in the sense that we’re not quite back to straight trauma yet but at the same time, the events of those chapters are…events?? like there are things going on, characters being introduced, dynamics shifting, etc etc. it’s less focused on the mc’s internal struggle and more on the relationships between several different characters which I think will be interesting!! although the trio won’t be together quite as much in the next mini-arc, the ones after that will provide plenty of them together so it shouldn’t be too long before they’re back in action

my week has been alright!! i live in the USA so we had the time switch last week and honestly my body has not adjusted yet which means the mornings have been awful recently 😭 good luck with volleyball!! I know the feeling of being out of condition it sucks sm 🙁 listen to your body and don’t push yourself too too hard!! it’s important to relax too.

[dollwrites]

Yes you worded it perfectly! The writers made a grave mistake when they made nyra the “good guy” because they made her BORING. More than anything she’s boring, they took away all of the traits that made her interesting so that she could look better. And it doesn’t help that they made aegon 100x more interesting than her, he literally carried the show most of season 2. Also I love the gay alicent hc but I want her with me not nyra 😠

I was literally sick to my stomach they killed aegons son, that poor angel did not deserve that. Fuck daemon for real, he’s a coward.

Ok so I don’t think there’s a huge significance to the fact it was a sapphire they put in his eye? It’s just honestly cunty lol. But I think it was because they didn’t want there to be a gaping hole, and a couple of episodes earlier they confiscated huge sapphires from pirates so I think that’s just the jewel they had on hand 🤔 I think in the books tho it’s honestly just to make him sound cool lol, or it could be an homage to a knight in a fairytale like book we’re not completely sure. But I’ve now become obsessed with sapphires and replaced like all of my piercings with sapphires lol

Listen aegon is a tough one for me. He’s such a tragic character honestly like you can tell in season two that he’s desperate, literally dying for someone to love him. Especially because he never got that love from either parent. That’s why he wants the small folk to like him so bad. And the fact that he tried to be a better father to his son than his father was with him, he made sure to take his son to the meeting so his son isn’t unprepared like he was. But I still hate the way he treats aemond, aemond doesn’t deserve that from him at all. I think now more than ever he’s incredibly jealous of aemond and feels less than compared to him even though he’s king. And it absolutely kills me that alicent forced him to be king, PURPOSELY never taught him anything because her and Otto knew they could rule through him like a puppet if he stayed dumb and unprepared, then get mad and blame him for being a bad king. Like they were so pissed that he was actually trying, but also pissed he wasn’t good at it?? You can see the moment his heart completely brakes when alicent tells him he should do nothing. He knows even if he was a good king it wouldn’t be enough for them. Like aemond is the loml and will always be my favorite but aegon is just so interesting to me, I can’t help but feel bad for him in some ways.I have so much to say about him but I’ll hold back because I don’t want to accidentally spoil something lol. Also it doesn’t help that he’s physically so beautiful, like it hurts me how beautiful he is 🥲

Also the brothel seen AHHH, I stared for such a long time 👀 you could see that he wanted to shrink into himself and felt like the bullied young boy he used to be 😭 and then the moment he changes and looks up, I was like oh there’s gonna be big consequences for aegon doing that 😳 also please don’t kill me but I personally don’t like how they made aemond so idk the word, pathetic? Like in the books he’s absolutely ruthless, he’s basically evil. And then in this season they made him into “I just want a mommy 🥺” lmao. Sometimes I like to think of him as vulnerable and emotional and cuddly, but other times I scrub all those scenes from my mind and convince myself he’s more like season 1 aemond if that makes sense lol.

I could say so much more but I don’t wanna literally talk your ear off lol 😭 but there’s just so many deep discussions to be had about each character lol. Keep me updated on the episodes you watch tonight 👀

AHHH REPLYING TO YOUR ASKS ARE LIKE MY LIL INTERMISSIONS !!

I’m just now starting episode 5 ! I’m hoping I might be able to crush the season tonight which is would be so cool but also really sad bc what am I supposed to watch after it’s over ?!

I can totally see why you said you switched up on Alicent. Personally, I still really love her but I recognize that she has only ever lived to be of use to the men in her life and because of that she has no real and true aspirations, she continues on her father’s path for power over the the throne. Also bc she’s always been like a tool, she treats her sons the same way, especially Aegon and it’s sad to see the cycle of manipulation continue through her.

SPEAKINGOF AEGON ( PART TWO ) !!! Okay first why’s he kinda just like me fr SKSKS MAYBE THATS WHY I GET MAD AT HIM BC ITS LIKE LOOKING IN A MIRROR. He 100% deserved that fire facial btw IM SORRY BUT HE DID I don’t think he’s dead so I feel like I can clown on him for taking a hell bath SKSKKS I WILL BE SO SAD IF I PRESS PLAY AND FIND OUT HES DEADA

And on the topic of being sad…. Ya girl was crying !!!! Rhaenys !!!!!!! Oof that was hard to watch especially against Vhagar and Meleys 😭😭😭 this is very small but you know how she says “attack, meleys” twice? Like the first time and then they turn around even though meleys is injured I KINDA WISH SHE WOULDVE SAID IT ONE MORE TIME BEFORE SHE DIED idk why but it would’ve hurt even more to me

I hate that Aemond is killing characters I like but unfortunately he is looking sexy while doing it 🫶🏻🫶🏻😣🫶🏻🫶🏻 but I get you I get you! Since I don’t know book!Aemond I’m assuming they don’t make him be a lil cuddle bug with his milf? THIS MAY BE A HOT TAKE but I think it doesn’t make him any less brutal, seeing the snuggle scenes. Personally, I’m like,,, it does make him more human to me, but even like monsters want to be loved kinda thing. Plus I do kinda coo at the fact that he’s only been with the one woman to me that’s so cute

PLS I LOVE HOW EXCITED YOU ARE, it feels like you’re sitting on my couch with me explaining everything SKSKKS