#even people who are trying to be 'nice' will do it like. did you think that YOU talking about my inevitable impending diabetes

[chleem]

Is it casual now?/extra II

One shot; college students drew x reader

Summary: “Baby, no attachments.” yet, you’re at his childhood home, laughing with his parents, bonding with his siblings. 

Genre: situation-ship, smut, fluff, angst,

Warnings: swearing, sex, light read, etc

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

⋆.˚ official one shot, extra I

♡⸝⸝ "fucked you in the bathroom, when we went to dinner"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Where you going?”

You ask, as Drew stands up. The warmth of his hands caressing your thighs is gone, now running through his hair. “Bathroom,” he mumbles, barely meeting your eyes. He walks off, without another glance back at the table. 

His sour mood is evident, by not only you, but all of your friends. 

To be fair, he didn’t even want to come tonight. He pleaded desperately for you to stay in with him, offering things to you that was ridiculous. Such as, doing your laundry for a month (he doesn’t even do his own). 

But you haven’t hung out with all your friends in a long time, and you missed them. So, tonight was non-negotiable with Drew. 

And he gave up with trying to reason with you, hence, why he decided to join you here, at the nice restaurant. He didn’t even make an effort to engage nicely with them, chuckling under his breath at random times and answering questions with short answers. Whenever you were talking, he would purposely distract you by touching you under the table, making it awkward for you and your friends. 

Drew knows your friends don’t like him; that’s why he’s sour. That’s also why he shows up to these hangouts, just to rub it in their faces. 

“Why did you invite him?” Lucy groans, after Drew was out of eye sight. Your five other friends of this group nod too, all letting out groans of frustration. “Hello, earth to y/n, we. Don’t. Like. Him.”

“He insisted on joining,” you shrug, forcing a smile. 

“Um, you could’ve insisted on him not joining,” Janet, another friend adds on. 

Your friend group was filled with weird people with different opinions, but one thing they’ve collectively agreed on was: they hate Drew. ‘Hate’ is a strong word, but that was the only way to describe their feelings towards Drew. 

They’ve expressed it a lot of times, so it’s become numb to you. 

“Are you guys finally together though?” Gary asks, sitting beside you. 

Oh. Every time they see you, they ask this question. 

“Of course not,” Lucy answers for you, sending you a cocky grin. One you always disliked, because it made you feel small. “Classmates, huh?”

“A really bad label,” Stacy adds on. Yeah, as if you didn’t already know. 

Great. Now it’s just your whole friend group judging you for being with Drew. Again. The last thing you needed from them.

“I visited his parents,” you aggressively say, stabbing into your food. Hopefully that will convince them Drew is a better person that what they think, right?

Wrong. They all ‘tsk’ in a disappointed manner, shaking their heads. “And…still classmates?”

“Well, he said I was his best friend,” you stuff the food in your mouth, “To his family.”

“He probably had to,” Josh speaks up this time, “and wow, is that the first time he called you his friend?” 

You don’t miss the sarcasm in his voice, and you send him a glare. He raises his hands in defense, the table laughs. 

You don’t find the humor in this situation. Why were they so judgmental towards the relationship with Drew? It’s not like he’s the biggest jackass ever. You’ve seen every side there is to Drew, they just don’t know him like you do. “Can you guys cut it off?” You say, not trying to hide the annoyance in your voice. 

“We’re just joking,” Janet laughs, glancing around, “besides, we’re worried for you.”

You chew and swallow the food in your mouth, sending her an unappreciative smile, “‘worried’ for me?”

“Yes, he’s obviously not… well, in love with you,” Janet continues, “we don’t want you with someone who clearly doesn’t care for you.”

“He cares for me,” you defend, furrowing your eyebrows at them. You look around the table, seeing your friends glance down at their food, afraid to meet your eyes. “He cares for me.”

“Sure he does,” Stacy bitterly agrees with you. That tone pisses you off. “Maybe privately, he does, but what about in public? Starting off with the most basic, labels.”

You hate how right your friends are. As rude and mean they’re being, deep down, you know they’re right. The ‘no attachments’ thing is bullshit, especially when nothing about the two of you is casual. 

Five, no close to six months, nothing about that is causal. 

“That…doesn’t matter,” you murmur. Wrong; it mattered a lot, to everyone and to you. You just hated to admit you weren’t as chill or casual as Drew was, how he made everything romantic seem friendly with you. 

When you look around, everyone is now staring at you pitifully. 

You didn’t like that. That pity stare. There’s nothing to be pity of. Bunch of people around the world right now might be having situation-ships too. Nothing to pity. Nothing to be ashamed of. 

Yeah. That’s what you keep brainwashing yourself to believe. 

‘The girl that he bangs on his couch’. Yeah. Nothing to be ashamed of. 

Your phone on the table lights up, and it reads bathroom. now. 

Drew. “Um, excuse me,” you stand up, excusing yourself to the bathroom. 

As you slowly get up and walk away, your friends weren’t very careful with the volume of their voice. You hear one of them calling you a loser, still hanging around just for a good dick to suck. 

That must be Janet. Her lonely ass must be jealous. 

But part of you knew she wasn’t wrong. You were a loser. The biggest loser to exist. The loser of losers, if that even is a thing. 

Casual. Your friends succeeded once again, in making you doubt everything with Drew. 

——

“Really boring, right?”

Drew pulls you in by the waist, a lazy smile on his lips as he stares down at you. He leans against the sink, making you stand between his legs. 

This restaurant had two bathrooms, each with their own sink inside. So, Drew took full advantage of that. 

“Hmm,” you hum carelessly. You didn’t want agree with him; you tried to make this evening nice, but his attitude towards your friends just weren’t helping. You keep your gaze around the collar of his jacket, not wanting to meet his eyes. 

“Something wrong?” He asks, playfulness still hinted in his words. His hand rub circles around your waist, as he tries to make eye contact with you, bending his head down to your level. 

You advert your gaze even more, now focusing on the bracelet around his wrist. Now that you think about it, he always has this on, since the day you got it for him. 

Was that casual to do? To keep the bracelet on at all times. 

“Look at me, would you?” Drew’s tone turns serious, and he pinches the side of your waist harshly.

You flinch, finally looking up at him. You meet his blue eyes, a mix of concern and something else that you can’t read. His raised eyebrows tell you that he wants you to talk, to tell him what’s on your mind. 

Should you? But, where do you even start? With his attitude tonight, or with your friend’s comments? Or with this whole casual thing, which is basically the beginning to it all.

Your lips pout on its own, resting your hands around his wrist. “That was uncalled for,” you murmur, looking down at his bracelet again. 

“What was?” Drew’s pinch one your waist is more soft this time, wanting to get the words out of you. 

“Doing that,” you say, playing with his chained bracelet. Shit. You’re gonna say it. You’re gonna call him out for his behavior. “Being rude to my friends.”

A scoff escapes Drew. He then brings his hand up to your face, forcing you to look up at him. Like second nature, you lean your face into the palm of his hand, waiting for him to explain himself. “Babe, your friends were the rude ones.”

The feeling inside your stomach is indescribable. The nickname sends you butterflies, but the words that follow don't. 

“How?” You ask, crossing your arms.  

He licks his lips, squinting his eyes at you. “It was so fucking obvious.”

“Was it?” 

“Yes- yes, it was,” Drew straightens his posture, taking his hands off you. The warmth of him is gone, now with the presence of a man trying to explain his reasonable case of being bratty. “They asked loaded questions to me this whole night.”

You furrow your eyebrows, thinking hard to the stuff they asked Drew. Shit. They were. Your friends didn’t even trying to hide their discontent with him tonight. 

“They hate me,” he adds on, “C’mon, I leave the table for like, a few minutes, and they talked shit, right?”

The way he looks at you; he challenges you to disagree with him. But you couldn’t; he was right. Your friends hate him, making you constantly doubt whatever this was with Drew. 

“Wasn’t all shit,” you lie, sending him the smallest smile ever. 

Drew makes the ‘tsk’ sound, shaking his head as he gives you a tired smile. “What they say then?” He asks, leaning back against the sink again. 

His eyes look at you in anticipation, biting down on his lips. 

You do not want to tell him what they said. It was rude, and although it was about Drew, it affected you more than it should have. The seeds of doubt are always planted by your friends, they never put you at ease with this relationship. 

You give him a lazy smile, snaking your arms around his neck. You lean in close to him, a seductive look in your eyes. “Does it matter? They talk shit, all they ever do.”

Drew’s lips slightly part, and he glances quickly down at your lips. Then he looks back at your eyes, and a smile appears, “I see what you’re doing. You’re distracting me.”

You shrug lightly, before planting a small kiss on his jaw. “Is it working?”

You hear a chuckle escape from him, and his hand wraps around the back of your head. His eyes keep bouncing between your lips and eyes, smiling from ear-to-ear, “annoyingly so, you minx.”

Without another comment, Drew kisses you, soft and slow. 

You return the kiss, escalating into a whole make-out session. 

You hate how your body reacts to him; feeling a pool of wetness form between your legs. Fuck. 

Something pokes against your lower stomach, and you pull away from Drew. You glance down; he’s erected. “Shit,” you curse, as his hands slide down your body. He squeezes your ass, burying his face into your neck as he breathes the skin there. 

“I…I can’t go back to the table like this,” he murmurs, referring to his erection. 

You watch as his back rises and falls, through the sink mirror. Even with this thick white jacket he has on, you can tell his breathing has sped up. Your lips form a straight line, running your hands through his short hair. 

In the bathroom? Right in the middle of dinner? It was highly inappropriate. 

Wrapping your hands around his face, you pull him up to meet his eyes. He looks at you pleadingly, lips parted with drool on the corner of his lips. 

Fuck. How is one suppose to say no to that look? He looked as if he physically needed you; needed you to calm the… ‘growing’ in his pants. 

“Ten minutes,” you tell him, which immediately lights the spark in his eyes. He looks like a puppy! You smile at that thought, as he straightens himself, switching your positions. 

“Ten minutes? Enough for two rounds,” he teases, lifting you to sit on the sink. 

“No! One round,” you say, which gets cut off by Drew kissing you again. As much fun as two rounds sound, the longer you linger in here, the more obvious it is that the two of you are fucking. 

He groans into your mouth, spreading your legs to stand between them. His hands move fast into your dress, slipping your underwear off. The cold surface of the sink hits your thighs and pussy, adding to the heat growing within you. 

Drew trails his kisses down your neck, as your hands work on undoing his belt. 

You moan when he sucks on the sweet-spot around your neck, the belt dropping onto the floor with a hard thud. “Drew…” you moan out, messy hands tugging his hair as he continues to form hickeys around your neck. 

You want to run your hands around his stomach, chest, abs. But the jacket he has on prevents that, being zipped up the whole way. This jacket looked great on him, but would look better on the floor. 

Your hands fidget with the zipper, tugging with no luck of it moving. 

Drew pulls away from your neck, a chuckle escaping, “babe, gently.”

His hands overlaps yours, guiding you to pull the jacket zipper down. It reveals that he isn’t wearing anything inside; a feast to your eyes. “Is that why you refused to take this off?” You ask, referring to before the dinner started.

“I was invited last minute,” he shrugs the jacket off, as if it wasn’t his fault for the improvised outfit. 

“Right, but you weren’t invited,” you remind him, when he insisted on joining you when you were leaving, throwing on a random outfit nearby. You were busy putting your heels on, so you couldn’t see the moment when he got dressed. You didn’t even know he owned a jacket like this. 

“Mmhm,” his mind was elsewhere, attaching his lips to yours again. Sloppy and more lustful this time, as your hands wander around his body. It’s hot under your touch; his abs flexing as you run your hands over them. 

His hand grips onto your thigh, before moving closer to your heat. 

When the warmth of his fingers hit your pussy, you moan loudly into his mouth. 

“Shit,” he chuckles, “we’re in public, babe.”

The tip of your ears heat up too, from the embarrassment and realization that you’re in public, most likely having people hear you from the other side of the door. “Sorry,” you murmur, burying your face into his neck. 

Drew sticks two fingers into your hole, and starts thrusting at a faster speed than usual. Your breathing becomes uneven, as you try to tone down your moans. 

Drew wasn’t having it easy either, as you hear low grunts escaping him. “Fuck,” he curses, adding another digit, “you’re tight tonight.”

“Just fuck me already,” you manage to say, hands gripping on his biceps. Surely, this was enough foreplay, right? 

He chuckles again, this time at your impatience. He pulls his fingers out of you, his hands going to the back pocket of his jeans. 

The familiar gold packaging comes out, and his hands skillfully rip them open. 

“…couldn’t put on a shirt but bought a condom with you?” Laughter escapes you, as you watch him unzip his pants. 

He glances up at you, and when he sees you smiling ear-to-ear, he can’t help but match you, “wasn’t gonna show up totally unprepared, right?”

You laugh again; what an unbelievable guy. “Shirt’s optional but condom a must. Got it.”

Drew lets his pants and boxers hang around his knees, his cock standing proud. The sight immediately wipes the smile off your lips, gulping as you imagine it stuffed inside you. 

“The chances of fucking you wherever and whenever is high,” Drew says, wrapping the condom around his dick. 

He looks up at you, seeing your gaze fixed on his hard cock. A smirk helps themselves to his lips, as his hands tug on your waist. An idea flashes in his mind as he looks over your shoulder, at the big sink mirror. 

“Get off,” his voice brings you back, looking at him with confused eyes now. “C’mon, trust me.”

You let him bring you back onto the ground, before flipping you over. You see both your reflections in the mirror, your back hitting his chest, his dick poking your upper ass. 

When you meet his eyes through the mirror, you understand where this was going. 

“Watch yourself while I destroy your fucking pussy, hmm?”

Oh. Oh. Was it possible to be turned on by words? 

Drew lifts up your dress, revealing your wet core. You hold onto the sink for support, grip getting tighter when you feel Drew’s tip against your entrance. 

Then, he slips in, going deep until it’s completely nestled inside you. 

“Fuck,” you moan, glancing up at Drew. He sends you a smirk, enjoying this too. His hand goes to your stomach, and he lifts you backward, resting against his chest again. 

“Grip my hair, and keep your eyes open, alright?” His voice drops low, one hand moving to knead your breasts. 

You nod, bringing your hands behind you; one tugging gently around his hair, another around his arm that’s supporting you. 

He starts to thrust into you, rather roughly and fast. “Shit,” you moan, the sensation sending you to outer space. With his thick cock slamming into you, his hands roaming your body, your hands running through his short hair, it feels euphoric. 

Your eyes can barely stay open, as you look at the reflection in the mirror. Drew leaves a trail of sloppy kisses along your shoulder, which sends goosebumps to your skin. 

You watch as one of his hand slips between your thighs, starting to massage your pussy. “Fuck,” you moan, louder than you should be. You couldn’t help it, the pleasure was extraordinary. 

He kisses your earlobe, “i’know baby, but keep it down, alright?”

“Y-yeah,” it barely comes out, as the thrusts and massages to your core intensifies. The familiar knot in your stomach forms, informing you that you’re close. “Drew…”

His pace doesn’t stop, and when you lean your head back on his shoulder, he goes harder, “close?”

You nod with any energy left, and Drew uses his free hand to lift your face up again. He kisses your cheek, “use your words.”

You flutter your eyes open, looking at the two of you in the mirror. It was extremely hot, to see Drew filling you up, his hands all around you. The mirror starts to fog up a little, with all the grunting and pressure filling in here. 

“I’m coming,” you force out, and meet Drew’s gaze in the mirror. His blue eyes meet yours, seething with lust. 

You clench around him, your hand going around Drew’s, which is massaging your pussy. He stops massaging, and he intertwines your hands together. The stickiness doesn’t bother you; why should it?

“Fuck,” he groans, his thrusts to your g-spot growing sloppy. 

You tilt your head sideways, and you give him a quick kiss, which sends you over the edge. Your orgasm explodes inside of you, cum dripping out and over Drew’s cock. 

Body giving up, you lean completely against Drew, as he helps himself to his. His cock twitches, and you feel the familiar hot liquid filling up. 

Both of you are breathing heavily, euphoria radiating off your bodies. Fuck. This might just be one of the best fucks you’ve had with Drew. But in a public restroom? Who would’ve thought. 

“You’re so hot,” he compliments, before planting a small kiss on the side of your face. 

You giggle at that stupid comment, looking at him through the mirror; He’s got a playful smile on his lips, looking at you with smitten eyes. “You’re great with your words.”

He chuckles, his hands tapping against the side of your waist, signaling you to move. You use the energy left inside of you, helping him slip out. Leaning against the sink, you watch as Drew grabs tissues to wipe your core, then throwing his condom away. 

After that, he grabs your underwear on the floor. You get yourself dressed, him doing the same thing. 

“Look, only…only seven minutes passed,” Drew comments with a sly smile on his lips, showing you his watch. 

You roll your eyes, your lips betraying you by forming a smile. “Cocky much?” 

He puts his jacket back on, the last piece of clothing. “Well, you've definitely enjoyed the taste of it.”

You hit his chest playfully, his remark sending butterflies to your stomach. He laughs, zipping his jacket only halfway. Your eyebrows furrow at his exposed chest that pierces through the top; and you reach for the zipper. 

Drew stays in place, and you feel his gaze on the top of your head, his hot breath hitting you. You ignore the tension that pulls; when you’re done, you pat his chest, “all done, buddy.”

“‘Buddy’?” There’s a hint of amusement in his tone, eyes squinting down at you. 

You send him a soft smile, seeing him glance down at your lips. “What?”

“Call me buddy one more time,” his hands wrap around your waist, and he leans closer to you, “and you’ll get it.”

His dirty and challenging tone sends shivers down your spine, something you find yourself liking a bit too much. The pit of your stomach yells at you at how hypocritical Drew was being right now, but you ignore it. 

And just because it’s fun, you lean into his ear, and whisper, “best buddy ever.”

Tickles are sent to the side of your body, making you jump and melt into his arms. You laugh uncontrollably; Drew knew you were ticklish, using it to his full advantage. 

“Stop! Stop!” You yell between laughter, your legs ready to give up. 

“Don’t call me that then,” he stops tickling you, grip on you tight to make sure you don’t fall. He kisses the tears of laughter from the corner of your eyes, “I don’t like it.”

“Noted,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck. You glance down at his lips, and he does the same to yours. 

Drew gives you the look; he wants to kiss you. 

And you let him, closing your eyes and feeling his lips against yours. 

Is it still casual if you kissed me like it’s the last time you ever will? You hate how this thought appears in your mind again, haunting you. 

You pull away, the pressure of it getting overwhelming. “Let’s head back, yeah?”

“We have to?” His eyes stay glued to your lips. “You know, We could…we could just leave.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “no!”

“Say you got plans tomorrow morning,” he shrugs, “I’ll say it for you, if you can’t-”

You cross your arms, looking up at him. “Why would I leave early?”

Drew parts his lips, and he brings his hand up to your elbow. He rubs the area there in soft circles, a playful look in his eyes, “…grab some froyo?”

You drop your arms, looking at him disappointedly. When he saw that, he hurriedly adds, “and I got errands to run. Really.”

You contemplate in your mind about this; ditching this dinner to hang out privately with Drew? Yeah, that sounded like something fun. It must be better than staying awkwardly, having your friends judge Drew. 

Casual. Casual, casual, casual. Some casual froyo with Drew, and maybe ending up with sex in his dorm room. 

Yeah. Seemed like things people whose ‘casual’ would do. 

“Fine. You’re treating me though,” you unlock the door, walking out the bathroom. 

“I always treat you,” you hear him murmur behind you, following closely behind as you two walk back to the table. 

You interrupt the conversation they’re having, grabbing your purse from your seat. They look at your questionably, before their gaze lands sourly on Drew behind you. “i’ve got something, tomorrow morning, so we’re heading off,” you try sounding apologetic, “sorry to leave this early.”

“Oh, um, okay,” Lucy glances between the two of you, “text us when you get home.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you apologize again, before your friends wave goodbye to you. You don’t miss the hateful looks they leave on Drew, as they tell you to take care until the next time you guys meet. 

After that, you and Drew leave the restaurant, letting the doorman do his job of getting a taxi. 

A warmth around your hand catches you by surprise; Drew holds your hand, pulling you closer to him. You look down at the holding of hands; then back up at him. He’s staring down at his phone, scrolling through his insta feed. 

Holding hands. Something very casual to do, apparently. 

“What are you watching?” You ask, leaning on his shoulder. 

He laughs, showing you the screen. It’s a video of a monkey pointing towards the glass, which has different play-doughs lined along it. 

You don’t get the humor in it, but you smile, because it makes Drew smile. 

The two of you stand there, watching different posts on his phone until the taxi arrives. 

Your mind finds it strange how ‘casual’ you two are. 

Because, in the bottom of your heart, you weren’t so sure if this was casual anymore. Along the way, the lines of ‘no attachment’ seemed to have blurred. Blurred to the point of no return. 

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

word count: 4.1k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: goddamn, i would fall for this toxic relationship too T_T

sry for not posting lately, i got very busy lately! i promise you, flashing lights 6 & not a big deal pt4 is coming sooooon. but hope you enjoyed this extra, and also, thx for blowing up the halloween special, was NOT expecting that. thank you sm! your lovely comments inspire me to write these fics!

btw, watched obx s4, and the ending broke me T_T like tffff

[allllium]

Jason Todd x childhood friend fem

fluff and potential angst

Jason runs into childhood friend from befor he died and she recognizes him

Back in Time

[ Jason Todd x Childhood Best Friend!Reader ]

~ Fluff, Maybe a little hurt/comfort, WC: 1,089

~ I'm so sorry this took so long 😭 Every time I went to write this it's like all ideas flew out of my head, but I finally got it done and I hope it meets your expectations<3

"Jason?"

He freezes.

He wasn't expecting to hear your voice today.

He wasn't expecting to hear your voice ever again.

Once he came back, you were gone.

He would say he tried to look for you but that isn't true. He thought your leaving was the universe telling him to leave you alone.

But now you're here. You're here and you recognize him. He doesn't know how to respond. He knows you know he heard you, otherwise he wouldn't have stopped moving.

The first thing he hears in your voice is the sadness. Not anger like he would've expected. Not even a hint of confusion. Just something sad.

After a minute of him being unmoving, clearly lost in his thoughts, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Jason." You say.

This time it's not a question.

After he hears you a second time, he brings himself to turn around and look at you.

"Hey."

"Hey." He can't tell if you're about to cry or smile.

"I'm sorry." He immediately apologizes. Maybe for leaving or maybe for not finding you. He's not quite sure.

"For what?" You ask and take a deep breath.

He sees the way tears form in your eyes and has the strange urge to cry himself.

"I don't know. I just feel like I need to."

"You don't. Dick told me what happened. That's not something you need to be sorry for." You say it so surely he doesn't know how to respond.

"I was gonna find you."

"That's not your job. I mean a phone call would've been nice." You shrug and let out a small, awkward chuckle.

"I didn't know what to do." He tells you quietly.

"I would assume." You look around the sidewalk you're on. You're standing in front of what looks like a busy shop, people walk in and out every couple seconds.

"Where did you go?" He asks you after a moment. Probably to determine whether or not he could've found you.

"I was here. I mean I stayed in Gotham just not where I was before."

"If I had known you were so close I would've gone to you but when they told you left I assumed-"

"Jason, you don't have to defend yourself." You cut him off quickly, "If I died and came back the last thing on my list would be finding someone who left."

He nods. "This might be easier if you were at least a little mad." He smiles softly at you, watching more tears shine in your eyes.

"I missed you too much to be mad right now."

He goes to say something back but someone walking by bumps into your shoulder.

"Maybe we should get coffee or something?" He suggests, not wanting to keep blocking the sidewalk traffic.

"Are you free?"

"Oh yeah, yeah." Dick can wait, he thinks to himself.

"Then yeah, coffee sounds great."

You both walk into the coffee shop and order whatever drinks sound good. Jason chooses a table against the wall and by a giant window.

You sit awkwardly in silence as you both try and think of what to say.

"How are you doing?" You ask, after multiple minutes of nothing.

"I'm okay, I think." He shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. You take notice of his fingers tapping nervously along the side of the cup.

"That's good." You nod and sigh.

"How are you?"

"I've been better." You answer honestly. Your fingers also tap nervously along your cup.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why this is so weird."

You laugh at his words, "I do. It's been a while."

"And I'm guessing we've both changed." He smiles.

"Changed? No shit Jason, look at you." You smile at him in a reassuring way. You can clearly see how dying has changed him.

"Yeah I guess I did get a little taller." He jokes and shakes his head.

"Maybe just an inch or two." You play along, laughing as you speak.

"I missed this. I missed you." He tells you with a sudden seriousness in his tone.

"Well good thing it isn't going away this time." You reach across the table and grab his hand.

It was never unusual for you and Jason to be touchy. That's just the kinda friendship you had. But this feels different.

Instead of being a friendly touch between best friends, it's more like a reassurance that's he's actually alive. A piece of you feels relief that you're not imagining this.

"I really hope so." He wishes with a frown.

"It won't. If you think I'm leaving your side anytime soon you're very very wrong."

"What's one more person to the gang that follows me everywhere?" He laughs again and squeezes your hand. It's the first time he's felt so free to last in a while.

"Where is that gang by the way? I would've expected one of them to be here by now."

"Oh I left while they weren't looking. I needed time to myself."

"You snuck out? Jason, they're probably panicking." You scold him softly.

"It's fine I'm meeting with Dick later."

You shake your head in disapproval but a smile on your face gives you away once again.

For some reason no matter how sad you are, a smile can't leave your lips.

You fall back into a silence but this time it's not awkward at all. It's a comfortable silence that reminds you of old times.

"I should probably get going. Dick will be pissed if I'm late."

"Yeah I don't doubt it." You recall the many times Dick has given long lectures about being late to anything he's involved in.

"I'll call you." He swears, standing up from his seat at the table.

"You better. I know where to find you." You stand up as well and finish off your drink.

"Yes you do." He agrees but doesn't leave.

You stand together in front of your table. Both of you are waiting for the other to move first.

Just as you're about to make the move to leave he steps forward and pulls you into a hug.

You immediately hug back and feel the tears reappear in your eyes.

"I really missed you." He whispers.

"I really missed you too." You whisper back.

You savor every moment of the embrace. Not wanting to leave out of fear that he would leave again.

But as you watch him walk away to meet with his brother, you're overcome with the happiness of knowing your best friend is here.

[lucentloo]

Gift Giving

Summary: Spencer and reader share the love language of gift giving, however, Spencer seems to get reader gifts that she feels like she shouldn’t have since she can’t afford the same for him. 

Spencer Reid x Reader

Wc: 1740

Content Warnings: Female reader, somewhat poor reader, not feeling good enough, gift giving love language for both Spencer and reader, no y/n, first fic ever, there might be swearing but I doubt it, season 6/7 Spencer, reader works in a restaurant, that should be all (If I’ve missed any please tell me)

a/n: I'm sorry if this sucks really bad but it's my first time writing and I thought I'd give it a try, thank you for reading and if you have any tips for me to get any better please share, have a nice day/night!

You’re staring at the small box on your counter as you hold the phone to your ear waiting for Spencer to pick up. The case he's working on is a crazy one though so you don't have much hope. You wait a few more seconds before giving up and stopping the call. The box on the counter is black with a pristine white ribbon tied and a bow on top. This is the third gift this month from your boyfriend and he doesn’t even have a reason.

You chew your lip as your eyes narrow at the box as if your glare could make it disappear from your kitchen. But alas, it stays exactly where it is. 

You don't hate the gifts, in fact gift giving is one of your love languages, you just feel so guilty that you can’t give Spencer anything back. You’ve tried to buy him something nice one time but that left you without food for a week and you couldn’t do that again without starving yourself. 

With a sigh you grab the box with the silver necklace and make your way to your bedroom to get ready for bed. After you shower and get into your pajamas (Spencer's hoodie and fuzzy socks) you climb into bed and contemplate what to do.

Ever since you were little you were always the kid with the worst birthday present at parties, or you were never the wished upon secret santa at christmas. You don’t have enough money to lavish your love on Spencer like you wish you did. It made you feel bad whenever you got something knowing you couldn’t get him anything like it in return.

You turn on your side and try to push away that persistent feeling that you’re not doing enough, that Spencer deserves someone who can afford to love him. Eventually you grow too tired to think anymore and slip your eyes shut. Sleep comes easier than it should that night and you’re only woken by your alarm early in the morning.

Spencer was worried.

He usually feels at ease with you and knows he can trust you to take care of yourself when he’s gone. However, this week you’ve barely seen him let alone your own bed. Anytime Spencer calls to hang out or take you out on a date he’s interrupted by a, “sorry handsome I’ve picked up the night shift,” or, “I’m filling in for Sandy since she’s out for the day, sorry baby,” and he can’t seem to find a time, day or night, that you’re available.

So he comes up with the only solution. He’s going to your work to forcefully pull you away from your job and take you to his apartment. When he gets there he’s surprised to see that the restaurant is quiet and not bustling like usual. He only spots two people eating at a table and one server walking around. That server isn’t you.

Spencer walks up to the server, Kate, and asks if you’re on break.

Kate looks at Spencer in surprise. “Um no, she left a few minutes ago to go home. The boss made her, apparently she’s been here for, like, three days straight.” she says the last part in a whisper like she’s gossiping to her friend in her high school cafeteria.

Spencer nods and whispers a quick “Thank you” before going back out to the parking lot. He knew he saw your car when he drove in here and decides to check the employees parking, just for reassurance.

Sure enough when he got there he saw your car parked right in front of the back entrance. The car was on and it looked like it was ready to go at any minute. Spencer furrowed his brows as he got closer and looked through your window. There you were, in your car with your uniform still on, sleeping like a baby.

Spencer smiled despite his concern, admiring your peaceful state in the quiet of the night. He doesn’t want to wake you from your sleep knowing it’s probably the most you’ve gotten all week but he needs to make sure you’re okay. 

Spencer knocks on your window and gives a slight chuckle when you jump up in shock. He smiles awkwardly and gives a little wave as you look at him with hard eyes that turn soft when you realize who it is. You unlock the door and step out with a stretch. You yawn before slumping against Spencer.

“Hey baby, why are you sleeping in your car?” Spencer asks softly. He’s trying not to wake you up too much as he wraps his arms around your waist to keep you upright. His heartbeat soothes you enough to let you stay in the drowsy state you find yourself in. Spencer feels you lean more weight on him as your arms encircle his slender form.

“Got off work and felt too tired to drive home.” It was hard to understand you since your face was pressed against Spencer's chest but he heard you well enough to look down at you in concern. He held onto you tighter as he sighed before bending down to pick you up. 

“Let’s get you home sweet girl,” Spencer whispers into your ear as you shut your eyes again and fall back asleep. 

When you wake up the next morning the first thing you register is Spencer's arms around your torso and his breaths blowing down your neck. You groan and shield your eyes from the sun that shines through the curtain and turn your body until you’re cuddled up into Spencer's hold. Your face is pushed into his chest to better hide yourself from the light. 

Spencer shifts slightly and you feel his hand start rubbing up and down the expense of your back. You take a breath in and you’re immediately comforted by the familiar smell of Spencer. He somehow still smells like coffee despite just waking up and he’s got the lingering smell of his cologne that he wore the night before.

 You pull back slowly to look into at him with a small smile before recognition flashes through your eyes. “I’m not at work,” you whisper to Spencer, “I had an early shift today, Spence, baby, I need to be at work.” You try to untangle yourself from Spencer’s tight hold on you but don’t succeed. “Spencer, I'm not joking. I need to leave.”

Spencer shakes his head. “No.”

You look at him, not amused. “No?”

Spencer shakes his head again as his arms hold you impossibly tighter. “No.”

You sigh and stop struggling. Finally looking into his eyes you see the confusion and concern that’s directed at you. And damn does that make you feel guilty. The little seed that was planted at the beginning of the week just keeps growing and growing.

Spencer seems to sense the conflict you feel and kisses the top of your head. “I need you to take a break and tell me what’s going on. You’ve been distant and short with me, and I miss you, I want to see you.” Spencer whispers the confession in the silent room and it makes you tear up a little.

Your head lowers as you try to hide yourself under his blanket. The embarrassment floods through you as guilt eats your inside whole. “I’m sorry,” is all you can manage to say to him. 

Spencer hums in acknowledgment before sitting up and bringing you with him. He sits you on his lap so you’re facing him and he lifts your chin so he can peer into your eyes. “Baby, there’s no need to say sorry, just tell me what's going on in that head of yours, hm?” 

You take a shaky breath in before slowly letting it out to keep your tears at bay. The attempt seems futile though as you can’t seem to hold it together. “I can’t get you anything nice.” You say in a whimper as small sobs escape your lips and you hide your face in his neck.

Spencer’s lips turn down in concern as he thinks about what you just said. His thumb draws small circles on your waist as he contemplates how to go about this. “What do you mean sweetie? You give me nice things all the time.” Spencer tries to point out the things you’ve given him in the past - cookies, a new tie, the pen he uses every day - but it just makes you feel even worse. Those are things that shouldn’t even be considered gifts, let alone nice ones.

“No, n-no, you always get me these necklaces and, and books, and things that I could never afford.” Your sobs interrupt your speech slightly but It doesn’t deter you. “I just want to repay you, give you something nice for a, a change but instead I wo-worry you.” You burst into tears again as you squeeze Spencer tighter.

“Woah, woah, okay, hey, it’s okay. Baby I don’t need those kinds of gifts, I just need you. Is that why you were overworking yourself?” Spencer asks in a worried tone. His lips find the top of your head again as you nod your head against his neck. You hear him sigh before pulling back slightly. You raise your head to look at him and he wipes your tears away when he cups your cheek.

“Your health and happiness come way before an object I don’t even need.” He says in a stern yet soft voice. You lower your head to hide your face but he moves his head as well to keep eye contact. “Hey, I’m being serious, I don’t want you to work yourself crazy just to afford a gift. You’re way too important to me.” Spencer whispers the last part before giving you a soft kiss. 

You sigh after the kiss and look up at Spencer. “But that’s how I show my love, I don’t see you a lot so I like to give you gifts.” Spencer smiles as his thumb strokes your cheek.

“So keep giving me cookies and pens, they really do make my day.” Spencer goes in for another kiss that has you smiling more than you have in days. 

“Okay,” You whisper against his mouth.

Spencer kisses your cheek, then nose, then your other cheek, then your eyebrows, he does this until you’re a giggling mess. “I love you so much.” He finally says as he kisses your lips again.

“I love you too.”

[halfwayhearted]

hiii, can i request something for Pau Cubarsi where him and reader kept their relationship hidden for 3 yrs and everyone finds out after barcelona won a home game and he ran up to her to kiss her🌸🌸 and if you can add her meeting his parents or friends after the game. Thank you🥰🥰

Fall With Me — Pau Cubarsí.

Pairing: Pau Cubarsí x Fem!Reader

Summary: After keeping your relationship with your boyfriend under wraps, you were happy it was able to become public.

Word Count: 615+

Disclaimer/s — Kiiiiiind of (totally) struggled, but fluff ^_^!

A/N: THIS REQUEST WAS SOOO FUCKING CUTE. I LOVED. Also, I know you said for him to kiss her but I was trying to think like, would he actually be able to reach, so I settled for a little hand kiss moment! I hope you liked 😊🐾

Today was Barcelona versus Espanyol. Your gaze flickered up to the sign displaying three to one. Just a couple more minutes left and you’d finally be able to hug the boy you haven’t seen in days.

You were already on the edge of your seat, eager.

The second the… loud whistle sounds, a nervous smile spreads across your face, and you make your way toward the pitch barrier where everyone else already was, shouting and hoping for either a picture or, better yet, a jersey.

Managing to squeeze your way through them, you easily spot your boyfriend, shouting out, “Pau!”

Luckily for you, he hears you. He could recognize that—your voice anywhere. Whipping around, the smile already present on his face broadens while he quickly runs his way over to where you were.

“You made it,” he chirps, looking up at you. His hand finds yours and he places a tender peck to it. “How was it? Wait, don’t answer that. Do you think you can meet me down here?”

You don’t waste another minute. “You got it.”

Nobody seemed to really notice. Well, they did. Their defender was literally just seen placing a kiss to your hand and beaming at someone they thought was just there to watch the game and leave. The sound of cameras snapping wasn’t exactly enough to catch your attention when you turn back around and rush out of the stadium.

Skillfully maneuvering through the bustling crowd of people leaving and coming in, you were finally able to locate where he was. Pau immediately starts walking toward you with his arms slowly opening, and you speed-walk into him, your arms flying around his torso. “Hi—you did so good!”

The brunette rests his chin atop your head and lets out a low hum, “Thank you,” he breathes, pulling back so you can look up at him. That was enough for him to try and sneak a quick kiss.

Keyword: Try.

It seemed he wouldn’t be getting what he wanted when a voice from behind him spoke, “Cubarsí!”

With a grimace, he keeps one arm looped around your waist and turns. His eyes widen slightly at the sight of Lamine right there, his expression surprised. “Woah, hold on. Hold on. Who’s this?”

Looking back at you, you could tell what he was silently asking: could he say what you guys were?

You nodded, and he smiled shyly. “My girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Lamine echoes, the smirk on his face growing. It was painfully clear he’d tease Pau for days. “We didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

Wanting to save the boy from embarrassment, you squeeze his side and introduce yourself. Your voice is quiet, yet kind. “It’s also nice to meet you. All of you guys were amazing today. Seriously.”

And he said nothing but a simple, “Thank you.”

Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad after all. Meeting his friends, or one of his friends, and practically outing the fact that you were dating one of their players in front of probably everybody. You haven’t even had the chance to think about how you felt about that yet. You’d deal with it later.

“I should change,” he mumbles, forgetting about Lamine completely and focusing his attention on you. “Stay here? I’ll be super quick, I promise.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “Take your time.” A pause. “I mean it. Take your time. You smell.”

At that, both boys chuckle and Pau nods, giving you one last glance before walking away, shoving the player away when he nudges him with his shoulder. He already knows the teasing is about to start and everybody will finally be aware.

It’s not that he wasn’t happy about it. He very much was, and so were you.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @planetpedri + @spidybaby ! ౨ৎ

[kiame-sama]

Would Papa Hades mind if I rant to him my frustration over how people always make him a ‘Bad Guy’ in our world?

Whenever Movies that have Greek Mythology in it, it always pissed me off when they make Hades the Villain (I feel like it’s just because Hades is the God of the Underworld that automatically makes him ‘Evil’)

Literally out of ALL the Greek Gods, Hades is actually the NICEST of the Gods (He was willing to let a mortal man take his wife out of the Underworld but he must not look at her because she’ll be sent back during the journey until they leave his realm) and was never unfaithful to his beloved Persephone

There was a myth that he had ONE lover, but that was BEFORE he met his Beloved

Would Papa Hades appreciate that I don’t see him as evil just because he rules over the Underworld? (Because since he’s one of the Great Seven so he’ll naturally be feared for his powers and authority)

Warnings: Papa Hades in his 50ft form, comforting ancient Shinigami, daily allotted sunshine/shade garden time,

For reference, this is approximately the current height difference:

~~~~~~~~

"-but I mean, why do they always have to make Hades out to be bad? I don't think my Hades is bad and I don't think you're bad either. You're probably the only one I've met in this world who didn't immediately try to make decisions for me. You haven't collared me, or taken me away from where I want to be, or tried to control me in any way. You're even letting me sit on your shoulder and talk your ear off in the garden because I wanted some time away from it all!"

The giant Shinigami was leaning his cheek on his hand, listening attentively to your every word. You both were seated upon a shadowy throne he had summoned in the stone and briar garden of Ramshackle. It was a good distance away from the building itself and no one was willing to tell the Shinigami he couldn't protect you.

Deep in the shadows, watchful eyes thought better of challenging a being of myth and power. Some were dissuaded from the prospect altogether, seeing such an ancient being so casually attending the soft Human prize. Not all who hunted sought harm, but even the insane knew better. Smaller predators will almost always give space to a bigger predator. No need to die this day.

The giant Shinigami was enjoying the history lessons from your world, curious that your own history had beings so similar to him that even shared his name. He also appreciated the fact you were so passionately defending his doppelganger in your world. Truthfully, the similarities between him and the Hades of your world was not lost on him. Perhaps the Humans of your world were originally from Twisted Wonderland and simply forgot over time after crossing to a different realm. If that were the case then he had much to consider.

Still, he appreciates how relaxed you are around him, now trusting in his willingness to act in your best interest. He had always afforded all of the Humans under his protection the ability to choose. The only difference now was he had to keep a closer eye on you than he did the Humans leaving his isle.

"I'm glad to be living up to your expectations, Little One. So long as it is your wish to stay here, I will aid you however I can. Young Idia has updated your phone to contact me directly should you ever have need. I must say, it is nice to hear of your home, you speak so little about it. I'm sure you have your reasons, so I won't pry. I'm thankful you trust me enough to share all of this with."

"Well, it's hard not to trust you. You've kind of been amazing."

It soothed the wounded depths of the old Shinigami's heart to hear such earnest words. You truly did trust him and he treasured that more than you would likely ever know. The mourning shawl had adorned him many long centuries. Those centuries were some of the most painful for him, yet that pain was lessened and balmed by your simple trust and affection. He treasured that.

[starberry-cupcake]

We're back! again, if these silly recaps help lift your mood in any way, it makes me very happy ♥ I baked chocolate chip cookies for this so imagine I'm sharing them with you 🍪

previously, in harrowcita del 9:

this happened

also @unexpected-tigers linked me to an official house quiz and I did it so, if you want to know what I got and how I answered, I'll add it under "read more" after the recap

CHAPTER 44

listen, I need to start listing things I got right and things I got wrong but I forget at this point what I said

you're gonna have to remind me if I got something right and I didn't catch it because I remember what I got wrong more easily than what I got right

such is life

I'll do my best to try to tally but

I got wrong the narrator, I assumed that, because they were insulting harrow, it might be harrow too

but I forgot about gideon also being a pro at insulting harrow so, guess what?

IT WAS GIDEON

WELCOME BACK, BABE, WE MISSED YOU

CRYING TEARS OF JOY

of actual joy, not mercygirl-joy

to be fair, the narration was very different from gideon's perspective, to account for 1) the twist and 2) the fact that gideon's gideon-ness came out more and more as she got closer to the surface of perception in harrow's body

something she kind of explains later

but yeah, I got that wrong

however, I did get the purgatory situation of canaan house somewhat right and I forgot to mention it last time

ANYWAY, BACK TO GIDEON

CUE 'I AM THE BEST' BY 2NE1 IN THE BACKGROUND

someone stabbed harrow from the back, which is very shitty behavior from whoever it was

so gideon comes back into the real world with the immediate danger of her vessel, necromancer and partner in crime having been stabbed

and she was "left behind" because harrow is back in her canaan purgatory river bubble

with her ghostie ghoulie friends

gideon immediately finds out that harrow can't fight for shit

she's determined to kick the stabber's ass but it's gonna be hard when she's used to her massive guns and ninja warrior disposition and she's inside the body of a baby kitten

gideon's very eloquent commentary is "Fuck. Oh, shit. Oh, fucking hell. Help. Yuck. Aaaargh."

it's so nice to have her back :')

she's talking to harrow in the second person, as she's been doing all this time unbeknownst to those of us who didn't catch it

"which proves that you can put the swordfighter into the necromancer but you can't, wait, hang on"

god, I missed her

gideon is also coming to terms with the fact that harrowcita has regenerating abilities now

she is very angry at the awful state in which her two handed sword is

if you knew, gideon, about the relationship between harrow and your sword and how layered it was...

"Harrowhark, I gave you my whole life and you didn't even want it"

so gideon starts taking control of the situation because the beast is chasing them

absolutely no chill over here in the emperor's bolthole

and by "them" I mean gideon and harrow because idk where the everliving fuck everyone else is

I know the emperor is hiding in weenie hut jr but the rest are supposed to be fighting

except for whoever was going around stabbing people

and idk where not!dulcinea is at this point either

maybe someone's using her to stab harrow idk, I'll never stop blaming her for things, even indirectly

gideon is doing a great job with what she has available because she's "a good girl and you're an evil nun"

she's also still going on about harrow leaving her behind and saying "you never got rid of being so absolutely fucking goddamn sad"

chisus christ gideon, tell us how you really feel about her

gideon looks at herself in the mirror and sees harrow with her eyes and her expressions, which is very uncanny valley

"This was your shell, but it was all filled up with me. God, the double entendres were hard to resist"

yandere twin would appreciate that one, I think, maybe

gideon proceeds to taunt harrow to come back by using her voice to say things like "Oooooh, Palamedes. I am measurably less intelligent than you. Put your tongue in my mouth and I'll flop my tongue against it."

"Ohhhhhrr, Gideon. I was so dumb to think a tub of ancient freezer meat was my girlfriend. Please show me how to do a press-up. Also, I'm very obviously attracted to y—"

no no, by all means, go on

please, gideon, go on with that idea, let's see where it takes us

in other important but not as spicy events

gideon cuts the beast thing in two with her own sword

but now we've got the heralds to go through

"Don't worry, honey. I'll keep the home fires burning."

same energy as

CHAPTER 45

we're back in hotel california canaan house au river bubble

I'm sure that description makes it all super clear for anyone reading

abby and her hubby are taking harrowcita to the secret hideout of the lost boys aka the room behind the tapestry that is now untouched by the body horrors going on in this version of canaan house

and where all our ghostie ghoulie friends are hanging out

it was a person's room, says harrow, and I think we all know it was alleged gideon's aka ortus, but we'll get to that

I need to point out the fact that harrow says she always thought not!dulcinea showed signs of "suppurating ego" but that she could never convince gideon to "see past the appealing eyes and softly clinging dresses"

I KNOW, GIRL, IT DROVE ME FERAL TOO

apparently harrowcita's invite also got to the kids of the fourth but abby sent them back to the river with a kiss in the forehead and their lunch packed

because she had adopted them, as we all know

she said "if only Silas had asked me, what has happened to his soul worries me horribly"

of course I didn't remember that silas was mayonnaise uncle and had to do math for a while in my head

maybe he's out there looking for duracell bunny nephew's soul that is still travelling through the river

abby learned a way to send them back into the river but everyone present wants to help deal with this haunt situation harrow's got going on

honestly, props to martita for hanging around, judith is a lot less cooperative

abby also thinks there's something wrong with the river and that the emperor is unaware of it because he doesn't know about the river beyond

she has studied a lot about it

and that the fact that the "beyond the river" concept has been looked at with scorn by everyone for so long has made the potential studies of it stagnant

I love her a lot at this point

I mean, I'm still 100% a camilla girlie, I'm putting camilla's photo in one of those glittery clear files and covering it with heart stickers, don't get me wrong, but this woman is fierce af

abby, you know more than the emperor, you're more worthy than he is, please murder him

NOW IT'S TIME TO GET EMOTIONAL

GRAB YOUR TISSUES

IT'S ORTUS TIME

man, ortus won me with this chapter, he's great, let's keep him

let him be happy in the infinity of time with his fifth polycule

harrow tries to tell him that he doesn't have to apologize to her, that she owes him for crux murdering him and his mom

(interlude for "her unconscious gracelessness to Camilla Hect; a girl whom, in reality, she should have taken by the hands and thanked her profusely for every time she tried to save her cavalier")

(glad we're in agreement there)

they talk about how gideon died and ortus tells harrow that gideon never did anything without intent

"she had been outplayed by Palamedes Sextus, outgunned by Cytherea the First, undone by Gideon Nav"

damn, harrow

LISTEN TO THIS PART YOU FOLKS

"I should have offered help. I should have died for you. Gideon should still be alive. I was, and am, a grown man, and you both were neglected children."

ORTUS, MY MAN

THIS MADE ME SO EMOTIONAL

"she and Gideon had become women before their time, and watched each other's childhood crumble away like so much dust. But there was a part of her soul that wanted to hear it —wanted to hear it from Ortus's lips more, even than from the lips of God. He had been there. He had witnessed."

"I will hope better for heroism in my death"

ORTUS I'M HOLDING YOU TIGHT AND CARESSING THE TOP OF YOUR HEAD LIKE A PUPPY

harrow finds the "g&p" note

GUESS WHAT

GUESS WHO WAS RIGHT ABOUT THAT

ALLEGED GIDEON IS ACTUAL GIDEON THE FIRST

AND HARROW THINKS OUR GIDEON WAS NAMED AFTER HIM

I mean I had trust in my alleged gideon theory BUT I CAN'T BELIEVE I CALLED THE OTHER PART MAYBE TOO???

sixth house please accept me

she also finds another note, similar to the rant notes she had been finding, which reads: "the only thing our civilisation can ever learn from yours is that when our backs are to the wall and our towers are falling all around us and we are watching ourselves burn we rarely become heroes"

are the letters clues on the angry spirit that's haunting harrow?????

does it relate to gideon???

but when harrow is about to ask ortus about gideon ("less like tragedy and more like carelessness" 👀) abby interrupts

abby, interrupting me again when I'm getting to the good stuff

but I can't be angry at her because she says she'll exorcise the Sleeper

YOU GO ABBY, YOU LORRAINE WARREN THAT STUFF

And that's where we leave it for today!!! my willpower is strong and I know I can't make these too annoyingly long. Which is why, if you wanna know how I did with the House quiz, look after "read more". If not, see you for the next one!!! Super soon!!! Sending you all hugs in these difficult times ♥

So, this is the quiz that I did, the official author-made one.

I GOT *drumroll* A TIE BETWEEN THE SIXTH AND THE FOURTH

The author said that, in the event of a tie "Pick the House descriptor most like yourself, or most like the person you secretly wish you were, or with the colours you like best."

We all absolutely know where I'm going if I'm left to pick between those two.

To be totally transparent, I'm gonna show you my very messy notes, which I wasn't initially planning on showing, so I apologize for them not being neat and tidy. I added the skull I have in my desk as aesthetic compensation for the messy handwriting.

I picked 1st the pen and flimsy because, if I'm doomed and this is it for me, I want to go out writing. The bottle, because I considered a vessel for separating things or for keeping something in safely would be useful. The rapier, because I always take a swiss army knife in my purse with my keys and the rapier was the closest thing to that. The flare gun, because I might as well try to signal somehow, at least some of us could get saved. And the raft not to try to escape, like the answer said, but because if we're more than one person in the boat, having more space, even if somewhat leaky, could help out for different situations.

I did consider every potential option that could be turned into food but I'd rather die of something else than food poisoning of any kind.

I got the Fifth in second place, and I wouldn't have minded if I got the Fifth, honestly. In 3rd place I got Seventh and Eighth as a tie, I'm not gonna ask about that. The Second got fourth place, the Third got fifth and 0 points for the Ninth, I'm so sorry.

You should have seen my face when I saw a portrait of the Emperor was an option to take with you lmao

[dadbodbuck]

does the swallow dream of flying?

Rating: G | WC: 1.6k | Pairing: Buck/Tommy

Summary:

Tommy calls Eddie after he breaks up with Buck. Eddie has some choice words for him. Coda for 8x06.

{ Read it here on Ao3! }

OR read below!

“Eddie,” Tommy says, voice hoarse on the other end of the line. He sounds—if not drunk, then so heartbroken it sounds like inebriation. “I wanted to—I’m calling to say goodbye.”

Eddie’s not quite sure if he means it the way he thinks he does, but his stomach almost falls out through the soles of his feet anyway. He sits bolt upright in bed, carefully extricating himself away from Buck, who’s doing his best impression of a endoparasite (“A parasite that lives on the skin of its host, Eddie, it’s really fascinating stuff—”) and somehow latched onto Eddie’s waist with an iron grip while also being dead asleep.

What little vestiges of sleep had been clinging to him fall completely away as he steps into his own hallway, quietly hissing, “Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I mean—at home?” Tommy says, confused, and okay, yeah, he’s definitely slurring his words a little, “Where else would I be?”

Eddie sighs and drags a hand over his face. “Are you going to be safe? Do I need to call someone?”

“No! No, it’s not like that,” Tommy assures him, “Sorry, I should have clarified. I’ll be okay. This is just… this is it. For us. Since Ev—since Buck and I broke up.”

“From what I heard, you’re the one who broke up with him,” Eddie huffs, “Or did I just spend the last three hours getting snot on my nice white shirt for a mutual thing?”

“This is what I mean!” Tommy insists, “He’s your best friend. I’m—I know I don’t rank that high. I just… fuck, I really enjoyed spending time with you these past six months. It’ll—it’ll always be,” a rough, shaky breath, “I’ll remember it fondly.”

Eddie feels a shocking flare of irritation, and it leads him out onto his back patio, so he knows he won’t wake Buck up. “What the fuck happened, man?”

“I had—I had to end it,” Tommy says, with a shake in his voice like a motorcycle’s death wobble, “It wasn’t going to last. If I didn’t pull the plug it would have broken me. I didn’t want to—I didn’t want it to get to the point where either one of us would get our hearts broken.”

“Really? Because from where I’m sitting, neither one of you sound especially put together right now,” Eddie positively seethes, “He’s fucking gutted, Kinard. He told me—” (“I didn’t know if I loved him this morning, and then he called me Buck and I felt sick. What—what else could it be?”) “—well, he told me a lot that, frankly, I don’t think you should hear from anyone but him. And you don’t even know what you did to him because you ran! You didn’t even try—”

“Please stop,” Tommy says, sounding smaller than Eddie has ever heard him, “It’s… it’s better this way.”

“Better for who?” Eddie snaps.

“For him!” Tommy insists, “For both of us, but especially for him. I’m not the forever guy. I’m not his forever guy, and I’m not yours, either. I just want… I want a clean break. I—I want—”

There’s a sniffle, a choked-off sob, and Tommy says, “I just want to be left alone. It would hurt less if people would just leave me the fuck alone.”

“That’s a shitty excuse, and you know it,” Eddie accuses, “Tommy, listen. I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, I’m saying this because—despite the fact that you’re apparently the biggest idiot I’ve ever met—I care about you. I care about you outside of your relationship to Buck. Or did you forget the fact that you were my friend before you were his boyfriend?”

“So, what,” Tommy says, irritation seeping into his voice, “You want to keep talking to me? I know how that goes. You’ll text me every once in a while, we won’t hang out if Buck’s going to be there, so you’ll lose interest and our fun trips and sparring sessions will be fewer and further between, and it’ll hurt. It’ll hurt worse than this. Why do you think I’m doing this, Eddie? I’m doing this because it’s the only way I can keep myself sane.

“You want to know why? You want to know why I broke up with him? Because I woke up the morning of our anniversary and realized I was falling in love with him. I haven’t been able to eat. I haven’t been able to sleep. I—I realized I would let him do anything to me, and that’s not something I ever want to feel again. So I couldn’t. There—there’s your fucking answer. I broke up with him because a little heartbreak is better than ever letting myself get hurt like that ever again.”

The words kind of prickle at some sense in the back of Eddie’s brain. The anger fades a little, and into something a lot more like concern. “Hurt like what, Tommy?”

“I don’t—I don’t know how to tell someone no once they’re in my life like that,” Tommy confesses through gritted teeth, “Maybe it’s my dad’s fault, maybe Don’t Ask Don’t Tell’s fault, maybe it’s just me. Every relationship I’ve ever been in has ended in me making the same mistake. I stayed too long, I let them—I let them believe I wanted to marry them, or I let them take out their anger on me, or I—I—other stuff. Evan—Buck doesn’t deserve that.”

“You’re right,” Eddie acquiesces, “He doesn’t. He deserves a partner who can communicate openly with him. Which you had been doing. You’re capable of being open, Tommy. You did it before.”

Tommy pauses on the other end of the line. “I—I don’t know what to do, Eddie.”

“Did you want to break up with him?” Eddie presses.

“No,” Tommy says, easy as breathing, “Of course not. I want him around for the rest of my life. But that’s… selfish.”

“And breaking up with him because you don’t want to talk through something difficult and scary is so altruistic,” Eddie counters, “You know, there’s this thing Buck says about love—you don’t find it, you make it. I think he heard it on a scene we were at years ago. From this old gay couple, been together for decades and decades.”

Tommy’s quiet on the other end, and then Eddie hears the hitch of his breath. Tommy is sobbing, silent and restrained, but so hard the exhalation of breath sounds nearly painful.

(“I’m starting to think the curse wasn’t just Billy Boils. Maybe it’s me—I mean, I move into Abby’s place, and she leaves me. I pick out an apartment with Ali, and she leaves me. Taylor moves in, and she leaves me. And now this? I can’t… Eddie, I can’t keep doing this. I’m—maybe I’m just the guy who’s good for a fun time, not a long time. I—what am I doing wrong?”

“Buck, you’re not doing anything wrong. I’m so sorry.”

“Do you think—do you think you could ever fall in love with me?”

“I think if I wasn’t this way, I already would have.”)

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, Tommy,” Eddie says, “But I really think you should talk to him. Tell him where your head’s at. Buck’s really good at—at understanding why you hurt him, and he’s even better at forgiving.”

“I—I—I can’t—”

“You can,” Eddie insists, “So pull yourself together, do some box breathing, get some sleep, and come over to my house tomorrow. I’ll make my hangover cure. I’ll lock the doors if I have to.”

Tommy’s quiet, which Eddie interprets as a fully-blown panic attack.

“If you don’t, I will call Athena Grant,” Eddie threatens, “You don’t want to know the things she’s willing to do for Buck. I’ve seen her break at least three laws with my own eyes.”

This, at least, gets a laugh out of Tommy. “Okay—Jesus, yeah. What time?”

“If you’re not over here by nine I’m sending the cavalry,” Eddie says primly, “And bring flowers. Nobody’s ever gotten Buck flowers before.”

Tommy takes a slow, shaky breath out. “Thanks, Eddie. You didn’t—you didn’t have to do all this for me.”

“Everyone always says Buck has a habit of worming his way into your heart, but nobody ever talks about me,” Eddie grins, “You’re stuck with me now, Kinard. Rain or shine. Even when you’re the stupidest motherfucker on the planet.”

“I’ll text you tomorrow when I’m on my way,” Tommy says, “I’ll—I should go eat some carbs and drink water now.”

“Take care of yourself, man,” Eddie says, “And don’t you ever call me to say goodbye again. Or break up with Buck like that. Also—call him Evan. It’s fucking weird to hear you call him Buck.”

“Okay,” Tommy acquiesces, quiet. “Damn. I was so worried about falling in love with Evan that I didn’t even realize I already loved you.”

“I’m sneaky like that,” Eddie says, “I’ll see you tomorrow—or else.”

(The next day, Tommy knocks on the door at nine sharp. He hasn’t changed out of his pajamas, his hair is a mess, he looks too gaunt and the bags under his eyes could fit a small country. But he’s holding a bouquet of wildflowers.

“I got this one because they’re the same color as your eyes,” Tommy says to Buck, who stands in the living room with his mouth ajar.

“What’s going on right now?” Buck says, eyes darting over to Eddie suspiciously.

“I’m going on a walk,” Eddie says, putting his sunglasses on his forehead and twisting at the hips to pop his back, “Don’t fuck on any of my furniture.”)

[redrose10]

Could you do arranged marriage with yoongi, prompt 68, and a happy ending🥺

I hope this is okay!

<Fire & Ice>

Yoongi x Female Reader

Warnings: Swearing, hints of cheating, slightly suggestive, mentions of being drunk

#68 “Seems like you have to sleep here tonight”

When you first entered into an arranged marriage with Min Yoongi you did your best to try and make it work. Sure it wasn’t ideal and you would’ve rather fallen in love on your own terms but it was done and over with and you were determined to try your best and make things work.

The first time he broke you down though was on your wedding night. His parents had rented a large suit at the most luxurious hotel in the city so that the two of you wouldn’t have to travel far after the reception. You were nervous but hopeful and maybe even a little excited. You changed out of your big ball gown of a dress and were waiting on the bed for Yoongi. When the door finally swung open you perked up a little only to be shot down when he grabbed his clothes and told you he had booked his own room to sleep in and then left without sparing you a glance. You spent your wedding night cold and alone in a king size bed while your new husband was doing who knows what. A crack formed in your heart that night.

The next time he chipped away at that crack was a few months later. It was his birthday and you had spent the entire day cooking all of his favorite foods. It was a lot of work but you really wanted to impress him. He told you he’d be home at his normal time so the table was set and you had changed into a nice dress and had lit some candles. You waited and waited and thirty minutes late turned into two hours late turned into six hours late. Finally around 2am he came walking through the door completely ignoring you and all of the food that was now cold and ruined. After questioning him he let you know that his friends threw him a surprise party that you apparently had never been made aware of and he forgot to tell you he was going to be home late. He tried to apologize but you fought back tears as you shoved his present into his chest and stormed off to your bedroom. The crack in your heart grew quite a bit that night.

There were other things that chipped away at it here and there. Hurtful words and spiteful glares. The few times you would go out of your comfort zone and wear something to try and get his attention but he’d never do more than look in your direction before turning his attention elsewhere. There was the way he always introduced you simply by your name, never Mrs. Min or even My Wife. It made you feel like he didn’t want people to know.

There were moments of positivity though. The two of you talked a little bit. You both had a love for music which started many conversations. He sent you roses on your birthday. And you swore he showed the tiniest bit of jealousy when you ran into your physical trainer, Jungkook. You couldn’t quite make it out but you know you heard him mumble something about how he could have muscles like that if he really wanted to before telling you the car was ready even though it wasn’t and you two had to stand outside in the rain for an extra ten minutes. You got the feeling he just wanted to get you away from Jungkook.

One evening though, he finally shattered your heart beyond repair. Another night where he came home way later than he should have. You heard a loud crash in the living room followed by lots of giggles. You rush out there and found him stumbling around drunk out of his mind after having knocked over a vase. His two friends, Namjoon and Jimin, were off to the side not completely sober themselves but seemingly more coherent than your husband was.

Yoongi coming home drunk wasn’t anything knew or shocking. You were used to it by now. So you didn’t think twice when you went to help him up and get him in bed only to be stopped when you saw the large purple and red bruise on this neck. You threw his arm down like it had electrocuted you.

It had always been in the back of your mind that he was possibly cheating. You two had been together for many many months at this point never having done anything like that and it was starting to affect even you. You always pushed those thoughts away though but here was the evidence right in front of you.

Yoongi was too drunk to defend himself. Jimin and Namjoon begged you to listen to them as they could explain what happened but you didn’t care to hear it.

You stormed off back to your room leaving Yoongi passed out on the living room floor and his friends to sneak out knowing there was going to be a fight. That was the moment you fully closed yourself off from him and decided that you two were nothing more than business partners for photo-ops and charity events.

You spent the next year barely speaking or even seeing each other. The first couple weeks

Yoongi tried to explain what happened but you were having no part of it so eventually he gave up. You had bought your own apartment on the other side of the city and only interacted with him at events and family get togethers.

And then one day yours and his parents dropped a huge bombshell that you were not expecting. They wanted to know why the two of you had not produced an heir yet. You couldn’t help but laugh because the two of you were barely even on speaking term so how were you supposed to start a family. That opened up a whole bunch of questions from your families leading to them suggesting the two of you needed to spend time together to try and work on your relationship. It was non-negotiable and before you knew it plans were made and plane tickets were booked against your will.

And that’s how you found yourself alone with Yoongi in a snow covered cabin up in the mountains several hours away from your home.

“I am not sleeping in the same bed as you.”, you spat after you found out it was a one bedroom home.

“Okay sleep outside in the snow then. I don’t really care Y/N.”, he mumbled walking out of the bedroom.

You rolled your eyes but had already accepted that you would be spending a sleepless few nights on the couch because you refused to give in.

After the long trip all you wanted was a hot shower and to get into your comfy pjs so that’s what you did. By the time you were finished the cabin was filled with a heavenly aroma and you found Yoongi in the kitchen. There were two plates of food sitting on the counter. He had made your favorite. When he noticed you he gently slid one over in your direction and for the first time since the beginning of your marriage you felt something other than disdain for him. But you weren’t going to let him know that.

“Are you trying to poison me?”, you questioned.

“Eat it or don’t. It doesn’t matter to me.”

You felt a little bit of guilt watching him grab his plate and sulk over to the table. Quietly you took the second plate and joined him. You both sat in silence with him scrolling on his phone and you just staring at the snow falling outside the window. It seemed like a blizzard was forming as the snow fall had picked up quite a lot since you arrived.

“It’s snowing quite a bit. I hope we don’t loose power.”, you whispered while somewhat trying to gage his reaction to you speaking to him.

He nodded, “yeah I hope not.”

And as if the universe was playing a joke on you the lights flickered once…twice…and then the entire cabin went dark.

“You have to be kidding me.”, Yoongi grumbled before getting up to look for the fuse box.

While he was gone you got a notification from the rental company letting you know there was a power outage in the area due to the snow storm and the current time estimate for it to be fixed was at least 48 hours.

When Yoongi returned you showed him the text which only soured his mood more. He walked into the bedroom and returned a few minutes later bundled up in several layers.

“Where are you going?”, you asked concerned.

“Well without electricity we won’t have any heat. I saw an ax on porch. I’m gonna go chop some wood so that we can build a fire to keep warm.”

“Okay let me get dressed and I’ll come help you.”, you said already walking towards the bedroom. He stopped you furiously shaking his head, “No absolutely not.”

You felt a little hurt that he was so adamant against you going with him but you also knew you couldn’t really blame him either so you stopped your movements as he asked.

He must’ve noticed your reaction because he cleared his throat, “It’s cold and dangerous out there. Just stay in here and enjoy the warmth before it’s gone. I shouldn’t be long.”

You nodded and watched as he closed the door behind him.

You had gotten all the dishes cleaned up and were waiting around for Yoongi. He had been gone quite a while and you were starting to get worried. So you decided to get dressed and were about to head out when he came walking him struggling to get the door to close behind him thanks to the wind. His cheeks were flushed bright red from the cold as he dropped several logs of wood into the fireplace. Within a few minutes he had a fire going that slowly filled the room with much needed warmth.

The two of you sat on the couch in silence just watching the flames move and listing to the crackling of the fire.

After some time Yoongi left and returned with several pillows and blankets. He started laying them out in front of the fire place.

“Seems like you’ll have to sleep here.”, he said looking at you, “We’ll both have to sleep here.”

Your first instinct was to argue against it but then you felt a chill down your spine and you knew you would never make it through the night in the bedroom. So you nodded and joined him underneath your own blanket while he had his and you still made sure there was a considerable distance between the two of you.

The soft glow and the sounds provided by the fire were comforting and you could feel yourself slipping off to sleep fairly quickly until you heard Yoongi shift beside you for probably the hundredth time.

“Yoongi are you okay?”, you asked half concerned half annoyed.

“Yeah sorry. It’s just still so cold it’s hard to get comfy.”

You thought for a moment before taking a deep breath, “D-Do you want to get under the same blanket? We can use our combined body heat to keep warm.”

He became so quiet and still you almost felt embarrassed for even asking until he nodded and lifted up his blanket to give you space to get underneath it.

There was an immediate increase in warmth but you thought it was probably thanks to your body’s rising temperature from being so close to Yoongi.

The room returned to a noticeable silence until it was Yoongi who cleared his throat, “Y/N can I tell you something?”

“Mmhm.”, you nodded.

He took a deep breath, “I’ve never cheated on you.”

You were surprised he was bringing this up so nonchalantly and out of nowhere.

He continued, “That night…That night when I came home drunk and I had that bruise it wasn’t what you think. I was out having some drinks and there was this guy. He came up to me and was talking all this shit about me and my family and stuff. I tried to ignore him. But then…then he called you a gold digging whore and he said he’d take you off my hands for $5 because that’s all you were worth. I got pissed that he was talking about you like that and punched him and then there was a fight and I got hit with something. Maybe a glass or something. I don’t even know what it was but that’s where the bruise came from.”, he stayed silent for another moment, “I know I wasn’t the best husband from the start but I would never and have never been unfaithful to you.”

His words replayed over and over in your mind.

“I just want to say I’m sorry for how I treated you. I was angry and hurt that I wasn’t given a choice in this whole situation but you were the last person I should’ve taken it out on.”, he sighed before continuing, “I just wanted to put that out there. It’s bothered me for a long time and I figured since there’s nothing else to do right now I could take the time to finally say it.”

Your heart was racing as you fidgeted with your sweatshirt.

“I’m sorry too. I should have at least let you explain yourself before completely shutting you out.”, you whispered feeling a little bit guilty, “I just wanted you to give me…to give us a chance and I was hurt that you wouldn’t.”

The room fell into another silence other than the crackling of the fire but this time it was a little less tense.

“M-maybe we should start over. I promise I can be a good husband.”, Yoongi said after a while.

“You did build us a pretty nice fire so that’s pretty good husband stuff.”, you replied trying to lighten the mood a little. He chuckled, “Yeah that’s just the beginning of the things I can do for you.”

You smiled, “Okay let’s start from the beginning.“

He nodded before searching for your hand underneath the blanket. When he finally found it you intertwined your fingers with his.

“Y/N, will you marry me?”, he asked.

“I mean yes but I don’t think we need to start over that far back.”, you giggled as he squeezed your had.

“Yeah how far back should we go?”, he questioned.

You bit your lip debating your next move, “Well how about our wedding night?”

Yoongi chuckled before pulling you into a kiss, “Yeah I think that’s a good place to start.”

[jiraigoddess]

guys this might be a dumb question but i genuinely wonder...

since misinformation about jirai kei has been spread all of over the other social media (except for tumblr), where do actual jirais hide within these spaces?

discord, tiktok, insta, twitter, reddit and even youtube have been "taken over" by fashion jirais. and in these spaces, from my experience, it's really hard to come across someone who claims to be jirai and is actually educated on what the term means.

did we all just gather up on tumblr and gave up on other socials?

the only explanation i could think of is that, maybe japanese jirais just avoid discussing this topic with the english speaking side of the community because, let's be real, majority of us think it's a fashion style. so i guess our spaces are technically separated, even though they're both jirai spaces?

honestly it's sad how so many people blindly believe everything that western influencers say about a japanese subculture, and not actually spend a proper amount of time doing their own research. i'm like 99% sure that all of the fashion jirais have "educated" themselves through tiktok videos and twitter threads.

but like, it would be nice if we could be ourselves on other social media without having our braincells killed by these people.

i'm just genuinely frustrated how majority of the internet is just a bunch of know-it-alls. they will either aggressively try and force their opinions onto you, or straight up mock you when you attempt to politely educate them on things. i honestly hate what internet has become.

yeah idk what i'm saying anymore...sorry about this idiotic yap...i lowkey just woke up and my brain decided to think too much and say silly stuff

[synthaphone]

Allowing myself to go on a tangent about the nearly 26 year old virtual pet website that i am way too invested in.

So today they released the Candy Pteri. While I appreciate what they were trying to do here with it effectively having two designs that you get to choose between (The "Melted Candy Pteri" on the left is a Paint Brush wearable that can be removed to reveal the customizable base pet on the right), I think in this case, they have created two extremely boring designs when they could have easily created one strong design, or hell, even two strong designs if they wanted to do extra work.

Because with this release, we get a base Candy Pteri with no real lineart changes (like the rounded hair tufts and spines on the Candy Zafara), and an alternate design that's just... a drawing of a Marshmallow Peep™???

I would have WAY preferred a base Pteri where they did something like give it a little marshmallow dollop shape on its head and in place of the tail tuft, like my friend @darieyrie suggested. Or they could give it the Peep dot eyes and more rounded features! There's all kinds of ways you could do this concept.

I'd be less frustrated if the Peep wearable had any Pteri traits whatsoever, but its JUST a Peep that's been slightly microwaved. Which is a little funny, but even more than the Toy Poogle is just an iDog, the Candy Pteri does not have any deviation from its base inspiration at all. It's not actually an execution of the concept of "Candy Pteri thats based on a Peep" if there's no Pteri left at all!

(also are they just banking on the Just Born corporation (who make Peeps) never taking any action on this? it kind of goes beyond 'cheeky reference', its EXACTLY their product. I mean, it seems unlikely that they'll notice or bother doing anything if they do, but i don't really know why you'd risk that.) The saving graces of this design, imo, are that the pink and cream color scheme of the base pet IS pleasant (though the lineart and shading treatment aren't really my bag), and some people will enjoy the novelty of having a pet Marshmallow Peep™.

But really this is just the latest of a number of recent outfit and color releases that feel like they don't think people want Neopets. Like. This cardinal outfit that they also released today.

I love the idea of a cardinal Pteri! But this outfit literally takes away every distinguishing trait of the Pteri to make a high effort, nicely rendered, but stylistically incongruous generic cartoon cardinal????? Its not even a Neopet anymore!!! Even if I set aside my personal dislike of the overly rendered style they're using for more and more of the site assets, this wouldn't work with most of the rendering removed either, because it would still be a Pteri in pose and proportions only.

Not every new design and outfit that's come out in the past couple years has these issues and there have been a number I've really liked, and I DO think its great that the quality of the art has improved since the JumpStart era. But I would really appreciate it if the new pet colors in particular were designed a little more thoughtfully, so that they at bare minimum still resemble the species they're supposed to be outside of the rough pose and proportions. It sometimes feels like there isn't a rough draft or workshopping progress for new colors, and the members of the art team just kind of do their own thing and then the very first draft of an idea is what gets polished and released.

The current art direction for the customization aspects of the site just has me feeling like they've decided to throw out years of relatively cohesive art and world design for a strange jumble of ideas that don't really capture the appeal or feeling of Neopets to me.

[thrashkink-coven]

Okay here’s the hard part.

I think a lot about that guy, so called Jesus, and his philosophy of radical forgiveness and empathy. For a long time I thought that was just a line abusers use to force their victims to forgive them (AND IT IS)

But! I also think about Lucifer and the things he taught me regarding the concept of hell. If I was the ruler of hell and I had to manage all these terrible people, what would I do? Torture them? Give them endless suffering so they feel guilty? Do to them what they did to others so they can understand how bad it feels?

Latinos who voted for Trump, oh you disappoint me, but no, I don’t want you to be deported. Women who voted for Trump, *sigh*, no, I don’t want to see you get an ectopic pregnancy or carry your dead baby. No I do not want all those conservative gays to lose their right to marriage. And no, I don’t even want all of those fucked up fascist nazi racists to die.

It would be SO satisfying to see them get what they deserve, right?

God, I’m so sick of being apart of a species that loves to conquer. We bleed, they win, they bleed, we win. I’m sick of patching wounds. All I see is hellfire.

My friend Taylor Mcnallie is facing fraudulent charges because of an altercation that happened while she was protesting in Calgary. The bitch of a cop who assaulted her not only received no punishment, she got a fucking promotion. I remember during one of Taylor’s speeches someone said something like “I hope she gets arrested and goes to jail,” and Taylor said, “I don’t hope she goes to jail. Jail shouldn’t exist. I just want her to get fired and apologize. That’s all I want.”

Pacifism, true pacifism, like the kind that guy preached about, doesn’t mean laying down and accepting every terrible thing assholes do to you with a smile. It means taking away their ability to harm without harming them yourself. Eliminating the evil without becoming evil. Punching nazis does not make you a nazi, but praying for the death and destruction of people, human beings, because you hate them as much as they hate you? *sigh*

The hardest part about this whole radical empathy thing, is the fact that I cannot even wish harm upon those who want me dead. Isn’t that funny? That literal neo nazi, yeah, I hope he has shelter. Fuck I hope that rapist still eats tonight. I hope he feels shame until the day he dies, but I don’t hope he gets raped in prison. I don’t even want him in prison to be honest, I want him to be cared for, and I want his ability to do harm stripped away.

“Even if he hurts a child?”

God damn it, yes. I can’t add more suffering into the world, even if it is inflicted upon the people I’d love to hate most. I want to take away his power to do evil, I want everyone to know what kind of person he is and the terrible things he does so they can keep themselves safe… and then I want him to be safe.

I want all those terfs to have clean drinking water. I know they hate my guts, ugh, it is what it is. But praying that they experience the pain they’ve caused me, hoping that they die or suffer only makes me more like them.

WHICH SUCKS. This way of thinking is NOT satisfying AT ALL!!! Being vindictive and petty is FUN and it FEELS GOOD!!! That’s why it’s so fucking easy, and that’s why we keep eating each other over and over again.

Having said all of this, we should definitely bring back the guillotine lmao. I’m not saying that we should be super nice to people who are trying to kill us, do fight back. If the people need to kill their oppressors to be free then, hey, I’m not going to tell them they’re wrong for that. This isn’t a “we should all hug and sing kumbaya together! Kindness is always the way!!!” take. If the only way to bring death to the empire is to bring death to its owners, then so be it. Do so in the way that produces the least amount of degradation to your soul.

But wishing natural disasters on Texas, hoping that that racist woman’s parents get deported, out of spite and hatred… what are they doing to you? What are you doing to yourself?

Humanity is disgusting, truly truly abhorrent. I want to be able to look at us and embrace us with acceptance of that. Every single fucking terrible person on this earth deserves liberty, life, and freedom. Even when you spit in my face and hurt the people I love, damn it, I won’t hurt you. I see you as a rabid animal that needs to be sedated and slowly acclimated to compassion. And I will keep trying, even if you never learn. I can’t give up on humanity.

This is the most important and the hardest part. I’m not telling you to forgive, forgiveness is for you. If it doesn’t serve you, don’t forgive. But don’t let people without humanity kill the humanity that exists within you. Don’t let hatred fester in your soul. You’re allowed to be mad, hell, you should be furious. Let that fury keep you warm, but do not become a monster too.

To all you stupid fucking fascist pieces of shit, I hope you get exactly what you deserve. And what you deserve is not death, pain or suffering. It’s self reflection and growth, guilt and humility. As much as I would enjoy seeing you hurt, I refuse to become like you. And damn it I love you, I love every human being on this planet. I love you so much that I cannot become you. I love you so fucking much that I will continue to fight for your rights even when you’re trying to take mine away. and I hate that I love you like this, but I can’t stop.

So I will stop you.

- James Baldwin

[holidayinhell]

Interview

CWs: references to noncon, violence

1. Would you rather - Rope or Chains?

R: Rope.

W: Chains, dear god, chains any day. Ropes fucking burn.

2. If Whumpee had multiple Whumpers, who is their favourite? For Whumpers, which Whumpee was your favourite?

R: Yeah, I’ve got a favorite. A couple years back I had a Whumpee who fought me at every turn. He'd throw his food at me, cuss me out, and try to attack me. One time he scratched absolute shit outta my arms. Anyways, I got tired of his shitty attitude and decided to kill him. I didn't keep it a secret, I told him he was gonna die. But when I went in to do it, he changed completely. No more screaming, no spark in his eye. He got quiet. Heh, he got all lovey dovey with me even. You know, lots of people say they’ll do anything if only you’ll spare their life. I never did cash in on that promise, but on this Whumpee, I put it to the fucking test. Heh. He let me do whatever I wanted to him. Depraved, horrible things, that would make the most degenerate man blush. Heh, and even though he was crying through most of it, he still pretended to like everything I did to him. And god. You should’ve seen his eyes when I told him I was still gonna kill him. That look. I think about it still.

W: I can’t. glances over at Whumper. Next question please.

3: In your opinion, what is the best way to train a pet?

R: Humans are fickle fucking beasts. You have to break down someone’s pride in order to train them. I start off with food deprivation, that usually helps me gauge what kind of fight I’m in for.

W: Positive reinforcement has always worked for me… I’ve only ever had a pet bearded dragon though.

4: Broken ribs or bullet wound? 

R: Both.

W: These questions are uncomfortable to answer. But, uh, bullet wound I guess. Assuming it didn’t graze any organs.

5: Preferred type of gag? 

R: I like a fabric gag. Or a simple piece of duct tape. Sometimes they come off and I get to squeeze a little scream out of Whumpee, and then I put a fresh one right back on. I kinda like the cycle of it.

W: I don’t have a preference… none? I guess the metal bit one isn't the worst of them. It hurts my teeth but at least I can still kinda breathe.

6: Burned or stabbed?

R: Stabbed.

W: Stabbed, I guess?

7: Favourite stress position? 

R: An old-fashioned hogtie. I guess I’m unimaginative but I don’t get too crazy into the BDSM shit. Who has the patience for that?

W: Uhh.. just, handcuffs behind my back. Something relatively comfortable.

8: Have you given or received any Brands? What do they signify?

R: Heh. No. Never been branded. I certainly have had my fun branding Whumpee though.

W: I… have two… Uhm. One on my chest that, thank Christ, is almost all the way healed. It said, uh, swine. The other one is on my back, it’s a lot worse. I don’t know what it says but I can feel it so it’s um, it’s here to stay, I guess.

R: It says Nice Try. Remember?

W: Not really.

R: From your second half-hearted escape attempt. Didn't realize you forgot. But I did hit you pretty fucking hard that night.

9: Broken arm or broken leg? 

R: Leg.

W: Arm. A million times, arm.

10: How did you get here? Why are you the way that you are?

R: I live here. Far as I know, I’ve always been 'like this'-- whatever the hell that means. And I don’t see a problem with it. We’re all free to do as we like, so that’s what I fucking do.

W: I dunno. I, I was outside, it was dark and I think it was raining…yeah… heading home from the bar. I didn’t drink that much. I didn’t live that far, either, so the rain wasn’t a problem. I remember falling down and then… I woke up here. And I’ve been here ever since.

11: What is your biggest regret?

R: I wish this Whumpee could’ve learned a thing or two from my defiant Whumpee in the second question you asked. I wanna get my dick sucked like that every fucking night.

W: Regrets... yeah, I've got a few. One stands out. It was late at night, Whumper didn't tie me up. I snuck out of my cell and I made it to the steps. Almost to the top, nearly all the way out. The door was unlocked and cracked open a little, I thought I could make a run for it and—

R: —I was waiting for you at the top. Heh. I wanted to see if you'd run, and you sure tried to. Not so much after that, though.

12: Is there a line you won’t cross? For Whumpee, what do you most fear Whumper might do?

R: A line I wouldn’t cross? Uhhh…. No. No, I don’t think so. I’ll cross any fucking line. turns to Whumpee, grinning. So what are you afraid of, Whumpee?

W: I, um. Does he really have to be here when I answer these questions?

R: Tell them, Whumpee.

W: Can I whisper it to you? (he’s already done so much to me, so fucking much… it’s dumb but I don’t want him to shave my head.)

R: smirks. You know I heard that.

13: What lessons have you taken away from your experience?

R: Everything has been the same old, same old for me. Guess this Whumpee’s lasted longer than the rest of ‘em. He’s coming up on a year soon. Kind of impressive he’s stuck around this long and hasn’t given me a reason to kill him yet.

W: I don’t know. I do what I’m told so I can eat. I take it day by day. I guess the lesson I’ve learned is that abandoning pride is the only way to survive…

14: Whip or cane?

R: Whip.

W: Yeah. Whip.

R: Didn’t expect you to say that. Noted.

15: Drugged or coherent?

R: Depends on the situation. Drugging them is useful for transport but I don’t much like it when they’re too dazed to understand what’s happening. Sometimes they fall asleep, too.

W: Drug me any fucking day. I don’t care. I’ll take whatever you have.

16: What are your true, honest feelings about each other? Is there some part of you that cares for the other at all?

R: Sometimes I like to touch him. He’s warm and it’s funny when he tries to squirm away. Plus I like it when he begs me to stop. But do I care about him? …eh. Sure, sorta. He’s my plaything.

W: Erm. Thanks, I guess. For me… Whumper is the reason I’m here. I guess I’m appreciative for the food… but he does hurt me. A lot. Constantly.

R: You're very welcome.

17: What is your favourite thing about the other? A personality trait, a physical feature, anything

R: He’s got pretty hair. A kind of pretty face, too. Yeah, almost like a girl. Heh. And he makes good sounds when he’s screaming.

W: Ah. Fuck. I really don’t know how to answer this…

R: Come on. What’s your favorite part?

W: Um. Well, I'll say this: Whumper is smart. Scary smart. I don’t think anyone would ever imagine how smart. I don’t know. I don’t. It’s… terrifying.

18: Do you have relationships outside of each other? Friends, family - if yes, do they know about Whumpee? Do they care?

R: Yes, yes, and no.

W: I have a half sister in, uh, Arkansas. We’re not close, obviously… used to have friends I guess, but it’s been a long time since I saw them…

19: What other hobbies do/did you have?

R: Video games. 

W: I used to play saxophone. A lifetime ago.

20: For Whumper, is there any chance you’ll let Whumpee go? For Whumpee, have you ever thought about life after you’re free?

R: No. Sorry. Realistically, it doesn’t make sense to ‘let him go.’

W: I, uh, I used to think about it. I don't anymore… like he said.. realistically it doesn’t make any sense.

R: Mm. Good answer, Whumpee.

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

this interview uses the questions from Character Ask Game post by @inhurtandincomfort !! thanks homie!

((more Whump))

[cheynovak]

Spikes

Summary: Y/N, a 16-year-old punk-loving girl, rushes to the Beach City Grill every day after school to see Priestly, the edgy and cool guy with a spiky mohawk and piercings, whom she's secretly in love with.

Warning: None, Priestly is just a nice guy to a love sick teenage puppy.

English isn't my first language

Please do not copy my work. Likes/Share/Comments are appreciated.

Y/N hated her school uniform. Every morning felt like a betrayal, pulling on the pleated skirt and stiff blazer that made her feel like a cookie-cutter version of everyone else. She missed her ripped jeans, band tees, and spiked accessories that were as much a part of her as her love for punk and metal.

As soon as the final bell rang each day, she was free—well, not totally. The uniform stayed on, but it didn’t matter. Y/N would ditch the blazer, roll up her sleeves, and sprint across town to the Beach City Grill. It wasn’t just for the sandwiches.

It was Priestly

Priestly was a walking work of art. His hair, styled into a spiky mohawk with streaks of bright red and electric blue, stood out as sharp as his personality. His face was pierced—nose ring, lip ring, and a few studs along his ears. He had these intense green eyes that seemed to look right through people, but his easy smile softened the edge. His sideburns connected to a perfectly sculpted goatee, and he always rocked some version of graphic shirt like he wore today.

Priestly wasn’t just some regular hot guy. He was cool unapologetically himself, and completely untouchable. Older, maybe by a few years, but Y/N didn’t care. She had it bad.

Every day, she’d walk in, heart racing, pretending like she wasn’t already imagining what his voice would sound like saying her name. She’d order the same thing—a soda or a milkshake if she was feeling daring—and linger by the counter, just long enough to catch his eye.

Today was no different. As she pushed through the door, the bell above jingling, she spotted Priestly leaning against the counter, fiddling with one of his bracelets. Her stomach did a weird flip-flop.

“Hey, Priestly,” she greeted, trying to sound casual.

“Y/N!” He gave her a grin that made her insides feel like melted vinyl. “Right on time, as always.”

She leaned against the counter, pretending to look at the menu even though she had it memorized. “Yeah, uh, can’t stay away from this place.”

She wasn’t sure if she meant the grill or him, but Priestly didn’t need to know that. Not yet.

She look at his wrist noticing the new jewellery. “that bracelet’s awesome."

Priestly glanced down and chuckled. “Yeah, thanks. I’ve had this one forever."

Y/N felt her pulse quicken. “I love it. Way cooler than this stupid uniform I’m stuck in every day.” She glanced down at the school-issued shirt in disgust. Then, without thinking, she reached up to finger her necklace—a black choker covered in metal spikes, one of the few remnants of her true style that hadn’t been completely stripped away by the school’s dress code.

Priestly’s eyes followed the movement, and his lips quirked into an appreciative smile. “Your necklace is badass, though. Spikes are killer.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. He liked it! Without thinking, she tugged the choker off and handed it to him. “You can have it,” she said quickly. “The principal’s been threatening to confiscate it if I wear it one more time. Might as well give it to someone who’ll appreciate it.”

Priestly blinked, taken aback, then grinned as he took the necklace from her. “Thanks, Y/N. Seriously. This is rad.” He looked at her like she was more than just the kid who showed up every day at his counter. “Here, let’s swap.”

Before she could protest, he unclasped his leather band and held it out. “I don’t think they can say anything about this at school, right?”

Her heart hammered in her chest as she reached out to take the bracelet. “I—uh—thanks.” She slid it onto her wrist, feeling the worn leather warm against her skin. It was a perfect fit. She was sure her face was burning, but she didn’t care. She had something of his now. Something real.

The silence between them stretched for a moment, comfortable but thick with something unsaid. Then Priestly tilted his head, his eyes studying her face more closely than they ever had before. “Y’know, Y/N, you come in here every day after school. Don’t you have, like, a club or friends to hang out with?”

Y/N swallowed hard, her face flushing even redder. “Uh, I just like the food here. And, um, you guys are just awesome to hang out with.”

Priestly raised an eyebrow, clearly amused but not in a mean way. “Just the food, huh?” He leaned forward on the counter, closer than usual, his voice gentle but knowing. “You’re a sweet girl, Y/N. But... I’ve gotta ask—why do you really come in every day?”

Her throat tightened. Oh, God. He knew. She fumbled for words, her heart pounding, but nothing coherent came out. All she managed was, “I, um... you... I'm s-sorry.”

Priestly smiled, and it wasn’t teasing. It was soft, almost apologetic. “Hey, it’s cool. I think you’re awesome, really. But... you’re still kinda young, y’know?”

Y/N’s face burned with embarrassment, but she nodded quickly, unable to meet his eyes. She knew. Of course, she knew. She was sixteen, still stuck in high school, and Priestly was already in his late twenties. There was no way he’d ever see her like that.

Still, her heart sank as Priestly gently patted her hand. “Maybe in a few years, yeah?” he said with a wink, trying to lighten the mood. “Who knows?”

Y/N couldn’t help the tiny smile that crept across her face. “Yeah... maybe.”

With the leather band secure on her wrist, she knew she’d remember this moment forever. At least Priestly didn't saw her as a freak like all those highschool boys.

--

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[phantoms-planet]

Barred Protection Chapter Six!

Hey all, sorry this took a while. I also forgot to put this here when I was posting it on AO3, oops, but it's here now!

First Chapter

TW: overstimulation and its effects

How long had it been since the nice man had come in and held him? He wasn’t sure. Danny knew that he was only allowed to see this man when he couldn’t cry anymore. He missed the man so much.

Danny had started referring to him as Comfort in his head. Normally he knew he could make a better name but his whole head fuzzed intolerably when he tried to now.

Despite wanting to ask Comfort’s actual name, Danny’s hoarse voice never seemed loud enough anymore.

Danny wanted Comfort so badly that when a dark shape blocked most of his vision he instinctually went to lean into it. The shape pulled back for a quick second before Danny was being hoisted slightly higher in the air.

They were letting him down! Did this mean there was a new person that was going to make him feel better? But he hadn’t stopped crying.

Something green and blue was now in his vision as he was flipped around to laying on his back. The green thing got bigger, closer, before reaching out to his head. Calloused fingers pressed in between his eyes.

Hello, do you understand?

Danny jolted. That voice wasn’t warbled and watery. It was clear as if it were in his head. He tried to respond but nothing came from his mouth.

I am J’ohn. We are here to rescue you.

Images flashed of a facility being broken into by a bunch of costumed people. They looked so familiar it made him ache. J’ohn was very patient, holding the image for as long as Danny needed. Danny keened as he tried to recognize who had him but he simply couldn’t.

Do you know the Justice League?

Did he? Danny didn’t know. He felt he should know but nothing was familiar to him about the images and names that the green guy was sending him. The green guy seemed to give up.

Can you tell us your name? Where you’re from?

Danny tried; he got his name but where he was from? His head fogged out at the force of trying to remember. Maybe if he thought of people he knew? His parents were indistinguishable blobs of color. His sister, he had a sister, she was…she…

He was so tired. Thinking was so tiring.

There was a moment where concern washed over him and then the fingers on his forehead were gone. Danny nuzzled into whoever had ahold of him. It would be okay to sleep for a bit, right? They…the justice…?

League, the Justice League. Right. They wouldn’t mind if he took a small nap…right?

He slipped into nothingness as someone carded their hands through his hair.

---

Daelus stared in horror as rings enveloped Subject P, revealing a young boy with black hair instead of the entity he had grown to know.

This wasn’t right. He was promised that whatever he had bought wasn’t human. But the being in front of him was very human.

It had to be a trick, something Subject P was doing to garner more sympathy from the Justice League.

Daelus had done extensive work to ensure that he wouldn’t harm a person in his company. He gave employees full benefits and wages almost higher than the company could afford at first. He had paid sick days, paid holidays, paid mental health days: all because he wanted to best for the people working under him.

He hadn’t missed a single thing regarding helping others, he couldn’t have.

Subject P even got the best care he could offer without sacrificing work flow. The subject was fed high end food, muscles stretched regularly to avoid atrophie and stiffness, they even went so far as to brush the being’s teeth twice a day!

The being that was currently curling in on batman just like…

…like a child.

A human child.

He had been using a child for medicines. He’d- God he’d tortured a child.

All at once the feeling in his legs went out. Wonder Woman had good reflexes, thank goodness, or his face would have smashed into the floor. Daelus watched the boy nuzzle into Batman’s chest. A sickening churning in his gut started. He quickly turned away before it could get overwhelming.

“Come on.” Wonder Woman yanked him to his feet again before escorting him from his own facility and into a police transport.

Daelus didn’t do much more than stare blankly at the floor as the door shut behind him. All he had wanted was to help people, to fix the ailments that never seemed to end.

The attempts to ensure he didn’t buy a meta had failed spectacularly. His stomach started churning again. No wonder the being had taken the shape of a young child, it-he-WAS a young child.

The boy’s face stayed at the front of his mind. He crushed his eyes shut. “What have I done…?”

---

The boy was safely in the watch tower medbay. Daelus had plead guilty on all charges, not even putting up much of a fight. Batman was suspicious of that, but the boy was his top priority, especially with how little information J’ohn was able to pull from his mind.

J’ohn had said that the boy’s mind was similar to a static filled television screen. A few things popped in here and there but never a clear enough picture. The only thing he got from the boy was his name.

The room was dimly lit, the sound so silent it pressed in on your eardrums. J’ohn had insisted there be as little stimulus as possible to help Danny recover.

Severe overstimulation. That’s what the medical team had said. Danny had been subjected to a near constant stream of overstimulation in order to be used as he had been. Batman pursed his lips at the memory of that horrible room. Screams echoed in his mind.

What kind of man just showed a young child constant images of people being harmed and killed? What sick mind had come up with that?

Dealus had seemed dangerous, but not to the degree he had been revealed as.

A grunt broke the silence as Batman mulled over how the news was going to handle this story. A meta child being used to synthesize the medicine that so many people were depending on.

And with those people depending on it, often times to survive, what would happen now that the truth was out? Ameliorate couldn’t sell medicine after this. There would be a scandal for sure; one that could and probably would end up tearing the country- maybe even the world- apart with debates of ethics vs human lives.

There wasn’t going to be a clear cut answer. No path that would make everyone happy. He hated these situations more than anything.

A soft sigh pulled him from his thoughts. Danny was…interesting. The boy was switching between his forms seemingly at random and had been ever since they got him out. He had been sleeping almost the entire time but when he did wake he became increasingly panicked if not accompanied by someone.

Flash had, at one point, brought up that he heard Danny muttering for ‘comfort’, as though it were a proper noun and not a feeling. This worried Batman.

Worried he may have been, there wasn’t much he could do to help the boy. A facial search had come up with nothing and just the name ‘Danny’ would leave him with thousands of people to sift through.

Batman looked away from Danny as he heard the door hiss open. J’ohn nodded a greeting before stepping up to Danny’s side.

For the past week he had been trying to sooth Danny’s mind with his own powers. They couldn’t tell if it was helping anything but it was shown not to hurt so the medical staff didn’t stop him from trying.

Batman stayed for the thirty minutes it took for J’ohn to give up for the day. There was no change from Danny, but he hadn’t expected one.

J’ohn sat in the chair opposite of the one Batman was in. “Have you found any signs of where Daelus acquired Danny?”

He let out a grunt. The martian nodded before getting situated to take over companion duties.

As Batman stalked the halls he pursed his lips again. There wasn’t any record in Daelus’s files about how he obtained ‘Subject P’ but there was plenty of records of his care and needs.

In an odd way it was as if Daelus had wanted the best care for the boy despite the state Danny was in. He let out another grunt. It looked like if he needed information, he was going to have to get it from Daelus himself.

---

Clockwork smiled to himself as he watched his looking glass. Everything was as it should be again, the League in the right direction to get Danny more help than they could provide. It would be quite some time before he saw young Daniel again but the time spent healing would not be a loss to him.

Yes, even Frostbite would soon be soothed in his worries.

Everything was going the way it should.

[liquidorcard]

HEY Y'ALL IT'S MIKAILER WITH AN "ER" WHY IS THAT SO HARD TO GRASP!?

---

Did I get your attention, Mikaila? I hope so, let's see.

Mikaila, I don't like you. You've done shit that's soured my opinion of you. I'm acknowledging that now to get that out of the way. I'm not here to be two-faced about this or blow smoke up your ass.

But as one idiot who stayed in a toxic relationship to another-- I'm not making fun of you because I think I'm better. I know. Being in a relationship like that brings out some ugly shit. You resent and fear people will never forgive you. You don't know if you will forgive yourself. I'm not making fun of you because I think I'm better than you.

And it feels kinda good, being treated badly? In a weird way? When you're used to it? When you feel you kind of deserve it? It did for me too. My abuser did some fucked up shit to me. I don't know how to describe to you the strange feelings I'm left with now. Sometimes I think I finally hate her, sometimes, as pathetic as it makes me feel, I still miss her. It's a rot in you that never really goes away, but you learn to live with it. I understand that agony. I understand that anger of how fucking unfair it is.

You know my opinion of Lily. You're not going to trust me that I'm not saying all this just to get you two to break up to hurt her. Fair. Very fair, not going to pretend like it's not. But if Lily loves you, nothing I'm about to say should be an issue. She should want what's best for you, right?

Here's the rub Mikaila, it's been a few years now. I know you want out of your situation at home, but it doesn't seem like Lily's going to be able to help you with that at this point. I'm sure Lily's given you plenty of reasons as to why, and it's time to listen to her.

If you're heart's set on coming to Canada, your best bet is getting a job here. Or even, going to school. Art degrees (Here in Canada) aren't as expensive, provided you go to the right school. Even taking out a student loan for just one year to figure your shit out. I know you're in quite a bit of debt right now and don't want to get into more, but. You gotta do what you gotta do.

Here's the college I went to. Yes, your work is sufficient to potentially get admitted. Believe it or not, art school's get that illustration is a learned skill. Artists start from all different levels:

Look through the admissions requirements to see if you have the academic records to be admitted. If not, you could also consider upgrading through online classes aswell.

Again though, your best bet is to try to find employment. The cost of living isn't great here right now, but it isn't great anywhere. I doubt you'll be able to find cheaper rent in America.

Once you're here or wherever you end up, away from the chaos of your home, you might find it a lot easier to get your head around, establishing some better independence and becoming a citizen by yourself. It's a shitty process, but not as bad as the one you guys have in the States. We stan an immigrant here.

You need to look out for you, Mikaila. It's not selfish. It's not a matter of whether you "really deserve it or not." Nobody's going to save you. You're emotionally spent because of your parents, You're emotionally spent because of Lily. And it feels kind of nice how much Lily needs you. But you can't help her until you help yourself - and again, if we're all wrong and Lily really loves you, she shouldn't have a problem with you finding your way.

My own mother once told me I was "born sad." I've never not hated myself. I ate up any little bit of love and validation no matter how many bitter, razor pills that came with it too. That's just how it is for some of us.

But you know what Mikaila? Fuck em. Fuck all of them. Fuck everything. Fuck me, Mikaila. You've got one life. One body. One you. Whatever you think of her, someone's gotta fight for that poor bitch. Why not you fight for you?

Everyone's a stinky meat bag stripped down, Mikaila. Everyone's made a fool in the wake of the shit people like you and I have been through. Not everyone's going to be able to forgive everything, but everyone's not wholly past forgiveness.

I'm no better than you Mikaila. Nobody is. Some of us just get to know the worst sides of ourselves better than others.

I don't like some of the things you've done, girl. But I see you. I get it. Tell us all to eat shit. Fix your life. Don't rely on Lily to make you feel whole or to save you. To make you feel worthy. No person can do that. She could be the reincarnation of Mary Mother of God herself, and you couldn't expect that from her. Be your own advocate. If your relationship isn't toxic, it can survive you becoming a more whole you.

This asshole is rooting for you. Give me an excuse to undoomer "Mikailer." My girl needs a win.

[rita-repulsa-ke]

Death and the Scarlet Witch

"She tried to wreck my life, destroy my family, literally murder me after she thought she'd stolen my power," Wanda says, using her fingers to count off all of Agatha's crimes. "She also tormented me with my past and lied to me. A lot."

That does, Rio has to admit, sound like the woman she loves. Especially the lying part. She can't keep a smile off her face.

This probably makes slightly more sense if you've read Scarlet. Rio goes to visit the Scarlet Witch, during the time Wanda is hanging out in that cabin at the end of Wandavision studying the Darkhold.

This one has warnings for lots of mentions of death, small-d, and also Rio is not always very nice. She is, however, very romantic over Agatha.

Death is everywhere. She is on a Road that doesn’t exist and, in that same second, she is next to the hospital bed of a young man, both of them ignoring the flurry of activity around them as nurses and doctors try valiantly to save a life that has already passed into her hands.

“I wasn’t ready,” he says.

“Most people aren’t,” Death replies. “How was what you had?”

He thinks about it, then gives her a tentative smile. “It was pretty good?"

She offers him her hand. “Sometimes, that’s the best you get.”

In the same blink of an eye, she sits on wet pavement next to woman staring at a mess of twisted metal.

“I wasn’t ready,” the stranger says.

Rio keeps her sigh internal. “Most people—“

An elderly woman in a nursing home. A child swimming where they shouldn’t have been. A man killed in a fight gone wrong.

Death is everywhere she needs to be.

And simultaneously, she is at a cabin in a beautiful, remote wilderness, a cabin that radiates an achingly familiar dark power.

She pushes open the door, startles a woman making herself a cup of tea, and has to hastily deflect the bolt of red energy flung toward her.

It isn't a very good deflection and in her head, she can hear Agatha murmuring, you’re so sloppy. You have so much power, but your technique—

Yes, Ags, I know. Shush now.

“Hi,” Death says. “I’m Rio.”

The woman stares at her, then gives a short, mirthless laugh. “I know who you are,” she says. “You have followed me all my life.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Rio says.

She can’t help but notice that Wanda is beautiful.

Not like that. No one is beautiful like Agatha, frustrating, gorgeous monster that she is. No, Wanda Maximoff is beautiful like an apocalypse. She is the end of any number of worlds, the potential for a sea of corpses the likes of which even Rio has never seen.

It does amuse Rio to imagine how jealous Agatha would be, though, were she here. She always hates when Rio is looking at anyone but her.

Rio never is, of course. Not really.

“What do you want?” Wanda asks, snapping her back to this moment alongside a million others. “Is it—is it my time?”

She sounds so hopeful.

"No," Rio admits. "I wanted to talk."

She isn't sure what she wants, not really. Revenge, maybe, but why should she? Agatha doesn't deserve her fury, would scorn her protection.

Rio wants to protect her anyway.

Still, there are rules. She can't simply take Wanda. And she's made enough exceptions for Agatha already.

Wanda's laugh turns softer and simultaneously more hollow. "To talk. Death wants to talk to me. Why not? I feel at this point we should be good friends, you and I." She sits in a chair that wasn't there a moment ago, and Rio is coming to the interesting realization that Wanda is not entirely well.

Agatha had told her once that the Darkhold broke weak minds. She'd told her that while throwing bolts of dark magic at Rio and crowing over her success in having mastered the Book of the Damned, of course, but the point still stands.

"Lots of people die," Rio says. "You aren't special."

"Aren't I? Aren't I special? The Scarlet Witch," she says the words with too much emphasis, drags her voice over the sounds. "There's a whole chapter on me in the Darkhold, did you know? If that is not special, I don't know what is." She laughs again and there has never been a more humorless sound.

"Riiiight," Rio says. She's starting to think she doesn't need to enact revenge, she can sit back and let the universe take its course.

Feels a little passive, though.

"What more can you take from me?" Wanda asks. "What more can I lose?"

Yeah, I'm trying to figure that out too, she thinks. "I'm not here to take," she lies. If Agatha can do it, so can she.

"…Do you understand grief? Can you?" Wanda asks without prelude, and now Rio isn't sure this broken woman, sitting in a chair that doesn't exist, is talking to her at all.

She's also starting to notice a very interesting similarity between that chair and a certain Road she's currently walking, a Road she always knew wasn't real.

"I do understand grief,” she says, no lies this time. There is something she grieves more deeply than she'd ever thought possible.

Wanda is still talking, still mostly to herself. "I had a husband. I had children. I had everything I ever wanted."

"The ones you made with magic?" It had taken her some time to find Agatha—she isn't sure how long, she's never been good with time—to find the strange little town and the stranger situation her beloved had gotten herself into this time. But find and save her she did, unsticking her from that miserable curse.

Not that Agatha had appreciated Rio sweeping in to save her. She never does.

Still, she remembers Agatha screaming herself awake, sobbing in Rio’s arms, and she does hope there is something more she can take from the Scarlet Witch.

Wanda nods in listless agreement, that family, the fake magic ones.

How fake is suddenly a very interesting question.

"Hey, I want to ask you something," Rio says.

Wanda only nods again, staring vacantly into the past with the expression of a woman who has not fully lived in the present for some time.

"When you broke the spell, you also broke a woman's mind and left her in that place, imagining she was someone else. Someone even more annoying. Why'd you do it, Wanda?"

Now Wanda's attention snaps to her, rivulets of scarlet magic racing up her neck and down her arms, and oh, she is dangerous, all that power with so little control. Rio can picture Agatha's sneer.

"Agatha," Wanda hisses the name. "Is that who you're here to ask me about? Death has come all this way to ask me about Agatha Harkness?"

"That's the one," Rio agrees.

"She tried to wreck my life, destroy my family, literally murder me after she thought she'd stolen my power," Wanda says, using her fingers to count off all of Agatha's crimes. "She also tormented me with my past and lied to me. A lot."

That does, Rio has to admit, sound like the woman she loves. Especially the lying part. She can't keep a smile off her face. "Still. Aren't you supposed to be the good guy?"

"Not that good, I guess," Wanda says, and now even more of her attention is focused on this conversation. Though much like Rio, some part of her always lives elsewhere.

Motorcycle accident. Liver failure. A bad heart. Death deals with all of them without taking her eyes off the Scarlet Witch.

"Agatha did also break you out of your weird sitcom project," Rio points out. "Made you realize that what you were doing was hurting people. Did you know, I wonder? What you were doing to them? Did you know and try to ignore it, in order to keep everything you wanted?"

Wanda comes to her feet, surges like a wave, staggers like a corpse. Her teeth bare with fury, her eyes leak pain. "Of course I didn't! Are you just here to torment me?! Do you think that I don't have nightmares about what I did to those people? Do you know what I lost to make it right?"

Wow, she's dramatic.

"She only did it because she wanted my power. I was in her head. That woman has never done a single kind thing for anyone in her life, not without getting something in return," Wanda continues and Rio can't hold back her laughter, high-pitched, shrill giggles that contain a note of unfettered delight.

"You've got that right," she agrees, and ugh, she wants Agatha, Agatha smiling, Agatha laughing, Agatha complaining about things not happening fast enough, Agatha kissing her—

Agatha whirling her around with a crown of flowers in her hair, her expression that of someone being tortured on the rack. Agatha, laughing too loudly, cheeks flushed with cheap beer, toasting to them both. Agatha, explaining some ritual in intricate detail while she inscribes runes, talking to Rio mostly to keep herself on track.

Agatha, in their bed, lit by the fireplace behind her, head on her hand, looking at Rio like she hasn't in centuries. "I've missed you," she admits, with a sly smile. "I've been thinking. You and I always made a great team. What do you say we get the band back together?"

This isn't right. This isn't how it happened.

"Can you forgive me?" Rio asks anyway, hating how desperate she sounds.

Somewhere a man falls from the top of a building, several stories too high for survival to be a possibility and lives anyway.

"Of course I can," Agatha says. "I love you."

Hah, as if. Even during their best times, Agatha never would have said it so easily. But her hand is on Rio's cheek, and she's so warm, she feels so real. It would be so easy to lean forward and kiss her.

There’s something important she's forgetting.

An ICU has a quiet night, no deaths even among their most critical patients.

"Rio, kiss me," Agatha prompts, and the smile on her lips is so close to being right, a taunting, teasing, tormenting expression. "My love, come to bed."

This is what she wants, isn't it? This is what she's always wanted, Agatha, gentled a little, sweeter, softer, but still the woman she loves.

No, she thinks, this isn’t what I want. I want the real thing. I want the jagged edges, I want the cruelty and the manipulation and the way she screws up her face before she says anything even slightly romantic. I want the way she makes big, sweeping gestures to prove her own power, the way she kisses me like she owns me, the way she sings silly, made up songs to herself when she thinks no one is listening and how she can never sit still, not even for a minute—

I want my Agatha.

A girl falls from her bike, in front of a car and—

Death roars back into the world.

Now it’s Rio’s turn to stagger, as reality reasserts itself. "...You got into my head," she says, and she's still so shocked that she's not even angry about it, only impressed. "Congratulations, no one has ever done that before, not even Ags."

No wonder Agatha went after Wanda. Enough power to, however briefly, divert Death. And suddenly, she's very glad that Agatha, who at least claims to hate her, did not succeed in gaining that power, no matter how much Rio loves her.

"You love her," Wanda murmurs. "You really—kind of creepily—love her."

Rio throws her head back and laughs, a shrill, sharp sound, the squeal of tires on the road, the scream of witnesses. "I do," she admits. "I really, really do."

"I could see you, for a moment. The whole of you," Wanda continues. "All the places you are. All those people. So many, all the time. I don’t know how you stand it." She sags suddenly, leans her weight against the much more real counter. "…Can I ask you something?"

"Go for it."

"When I die, will I see them again? My boys and Vis?"

"Yes," Death says, with absolute certainty. "You'll see them again."

Wanda sinks to the floor, pulls her knees to her chest and shakes with relief, tears rolling silently down her cheeks. "That's all. That's all I needed to know."

"Not yet, though. It isn't your time. You still have things to do," Rio says. "Because you know what, Wanda?"

Wanda only stares up at her, face slick with tears.

"You're right. Death will follow you all your life. In fact, I think we'll be seeing each other again very soon," Rio says, letting her mask drop, and she can see her own skinless reflection in Wanda's widening eyes. "You and me? We are going to have so much fun."

Then, as Wanda starts to form a question, Death is gone. After all, how could she take Wanda now? There is still so much the Scarlet Witch can give her, so many bodies.

Besides, it would be breaking the rules.

But it turns out that there is something of Wanda's she can take. Something waiting for her on a Road that doesn't exist, something she's overlooked, something Agatha, manipulative as always, has been hiding in plain sight.

Rio will make certain that Wanda sees her boys again.

She leaves the cabin, but remains everywhere else.

Somewhere a girl sobs on her shoulder and Death pats her back with practiced movements, perfected over millennia. In that same blink of an eye, she holds an old woman's hand, kisses an old man's cheek, listens patiently to a priest perform his own last rites and guides a protection witch beyond the veil.

Then she steps back onto the Road, hands behind her head, whistling to herself. She's going to go find Agatha. She's already annoyed by all that has been kept from her, and she has no doubt it will be a fight, one where her beloved will probably say something manipulative, cruel or both.

Still, even knowing all of that, she can’t wait to see the real thing.

Want to read something sad? Try Nicky

Want to read something fluffy? Try Flirting

Want to read more Rio thinking about Agatha? Try the thief