#having ‘the audacity’ to make a post about it I’m blocking you I don’t care who you are or if we’re mutuals or not

[whimsyprinx]

regarding this post (linked back to my reblog of it) a lot of y’all are seriously so fucking pathetic. You’re out here calling a whole 16 year old a loser, lameass, pussy, buzzkill, narc, snitch, dickweed, and more! most of y’all are grown ass adults too like get a fucking life instead of getting together to shame a teenager for not wanting to drink and making a post about it online, from what I hear people have been harassing them, A CHILD as well. Y’all shouldn’t be pressuring or judging anyone over not wanting to drink ESPECIALLY children,,, like what the fuck is wrong with y’all?

[ink-stainedkiss]

‘Jacked and Kind’ Drabble - Bnha Boy Trio

Synopsis: Doing the ‘A Boy Who’s Jacked and Kind’ with Bakugo, Todoroki, and Midoriya!

A/N: This was a request! A fun one might I add. Hopefully you guys like it and don’t forget you can always request Oneshots, drabbles, Headcannons, etc! 🫶🏻

Warnings:None

Word Count: 1.1k

Katsuki Bakugo

Bakugo wasn’t stupid, he’s seen the trend, and when you brought it up to him, he wanted no part in it.

“C’mon Katsuki,” You whined, waving your screen in front of him,”It’ll be cute,” He huffed,”I don’t care.” Frowning, you plopped onto the couch next to him,”Why are you so against it?” He continued to read the book in his lap, slightly annoyed by your persistent,”Because it’s a stupid fuckin’ trend. Why do you need to film it to prove I can pick you up?” Smirking, you draped yourself over the boy, putting on a pitiful performance,”So we can prove our love.”

Scoffeing, Bakugo shoved you off of his arm, unfazed by your words,”Yeah, whatever.” You decided to move onto the next tactic,”I mean, if you’re too weak to do the trend then I understand…” Alas, Bakugo showed no reaction to your provocation. Your shoulders dropped and he let out a chuckle,”Did you really think that would work? You’re not as smart as I thought.”

Clearly the ‘kind’ part didn’t apply to your boyfriend. You groaned audibly and got up, finally leaving Bakugo to his reading. You stood, staring sorrowfully at this couple on your phone,”I guess I’ll ask Eijirou instead, I’m sure he’ll be up for it.”

Like a flipped switch, Bakugo was on his feet in an instant, his book left behind,”Like hell you will.” He uttered,”Set up your damn phone.” A giddy smile spread to your face as you set up your phone. I knew that would work.

Bakugou stood next to you begrudgingly, a scowl depicted on his features. The music started and you hoped your boyfriend wouldn’t get revenge by tossing you over his shoulders. His large hands gripped your hips and you didn’t have anytime to grab his wrist before you were being lifted from the ground. You were star struck. I didn’t even jump. Bakugo snickered at your reaction and flexed slightly for the camera. You posed for the camera, feeling Bakugo’s hand resting comfortably on your thigh. Right before the music ended, Bakugo flipped off the camera, making you let out a laugh.

He let you down easily, mumbling under his breath about how stupid this was and he was going right back to his book. That night, your post had blown up. You rested on your bed with Bakugo showing the hilarious comments.

i feel so disrespected.

in front of my salad??

the audacity to be in my fyp…

so cute! *blocks*

If one thing was true, Bakugo fit the jacked description extremely well.

・❥・

Shoto Todoroki

Shoto hadn’t seen the trend at all, which wasn’t a shocker, but when you came to him so energetic, he was curious to see what it was all about. He had to admit, the trend was cute. You stared at him with such hopeful eyes,”So? Can we do it Sho’?” He glanced at the video again, then at your face,”Will it make you happy?” You bobbed your head rapidly,”Yes, I’ve been dying to do this with you.” He gave a small smile, then gave a curt nod,”Then let’s do it.”

You were buzzing with happiness and your smile was blown wide in front of the camera. You started lip syncing to the music and then you felt Shoto’s hands on your hips. You knew Shoto had muscle (he always let you caress them whenever you liked) but you were still shocked by the ease of his movements. He gracefully lifted you, placing you onto his shoulder and you posed for the camera, crossing your leg over the other like a princess. Once it was over, Shoto put you on the ground softly, and as a thank you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek,”Thank you, Shoto.”

After a few hours, your video was flooded with likes and comments, but as you looked over the video, you realized Shoto wasn’t even looking at the camera. He didn’t flex or smile, instead his eyes were locked onto you, who was too busy looking pretty for the camera. He looked completely whipped for you and you couldn’t help but show it back to Shoto. The boy gave a simple shrug,”You looked beautiful, I couldn’t help myself.”

His words made you blush and you had to cover yourself ur embarrassment by tucking yourself into Shoto’s embrace. He didn’t know why you needed a hug all of a sudden, but he was happy to provide. When you calmed down, you both went through the comments. Shoto was a bit confused,”Why are they so angry?” You chuckled, shaking your head,”No, they’re not mad Sho’, they’re being sarcastic.”

on my wifi?

if you look closely you can see me hanging in the background 😊

you guys are adorable!! I’m standing in the middle of the highway rn!!

・❥・

Izuku Midoriya

Let’s be honest. Izuku is the one to come to you about the trend. He saw it on his feed and was thrilled to try it out. He practically bounced on his feet as you watched the couple. You knew Izuku wasn’t as tall as most of the guys on the trend, but if you knew one thing, it was that Izuku had arms for days, let alone his muscular legs. You passed Izuku his phone back, raising a brow at him,”And why do you wanna do this?” Izuku lit up, puffing his chest out with pride,”So I can show you off.”

If that wasn’t a perfect answer, then you don’t know what is. You were setting up his phone immediately. The song began to play and you stood next to Izuku happily. He grabbed your waist, lifting you swiftly onto his shoulder. He flexed his bicep, winking toward the camera, but unexpectedly he was bumping his shoulders up and you were slipping from your spot. You let out a gasp, but then Izuku’s arm was placed securely on your back and under your knees. You giggled out of shock and Izuku’s heart melted at how pretty you looked. He quickly stole a kiss and when he pulled away the video was already done.

He set you down carefully, a heavy blush tinting his face,”Sorry, I got carried away.” You rolled your eyes playfully,”You definitely don’t have to apologize.” He stood over your shoulder, watching the video back and he would be lying if he said he didn’t immediately save it to his camera roll. Later that day you were both cuddling on the couch and you checked the video, which was overfilled with hilarious comments.

am I interrupting something..?

stood up, shed a tear, then applauded

pls get a room.

this has to be cyberbullying.

You both were entertained by the comments, but then Izuku pointed to your caption,”Did you call me a ‘Short King’?”

[standfucker]

Finding Out You’re Stronger Than Them - Logia Edition (Smoker + Ace)

Feeling very stuck with my WIPS lately, so I decided to try my hand at a bullet-point style drabble. Ace’s and Smoker’s went fine, but Crocodile’s and Kuzan’s immediately grew into something too big for a bullet point list and will be posted separately, if I can get them to a point I’m happy with. Have these two for now.

CW: Just a little bit of violence

Ao3 Link

Smoker

You’ve been rising quickly through the ranks. Smoker’s heard that you’re strong, but by the time you get assigned to him, he has yet to see it for himself.

You’ve followed all of his orders thus far, and past reports on your behavior are generally positive, so when you block him from chasing a pirate one day, he’s taken by surprise.

“This one’s innocent. I saw it for myself. He’s trying to support the village.” You get into stance, eyes blazing with defiance, fully ready to take on your captain.

“It doesn’t make a difference,” Smoker says. “He’s still a pirate.”

“He only stole from nobles. People who wouldn’t miss the wealth. It makes every difference.”

“Get out of the way.”

“No.”

He turns into smoke to go around you, but you grab at where his ankle would be, your haki forcing his body back into shape, and swing him into the ground with such force that stars dot his vision as the wind is knocked out of him.

No one told him you could use armament haki.

“I’m stronger than you. Don’t get a big head because you’re my superior. I’ll surpass you soon.”

“I could have you court-martialed for this,” he gasps.

“Then do it. See if I care. That person was innocent–I know I did the right thing. I don’t give a shit about your opinion,” you pause, then add, “Captain.”

You crouch next to him as he struggles to sit up, still dizzy from the brutal impact. Picking up his cigars that have fallen, you dust them off before sticking one back in his mouth and putting the other in yours. You take an experimental puff, wrinkle your nose at the taste, and deftly twirl the cigar between your fingers. He finds himself staring as you exhale, smoke curling around your profile.

“I requested to be transferred to your unit because Tashigi told me you were different from the others,” you say, and pop the second cigar into his mouth as well. “So don’t disappoint me, Captain.”

The blush on his face is from indignation, or that’s what he tells himself. It’s the audacity. You have some nerve to talk to him that way. To lay your hands on a superior, to obstruct the law.

And yet. He shouldn’t, but a part of him–a big part of him–can’t help but admire your conviction. Enough so that he doesn’t report your insubordination.

It’s always refreshing to find a soldier who thinks for themselves, but it’s also dangerous if you cross the wrong superiors. (God forbid you talk back to someone like Akainu, which Smoker knows you would do without hesitation.) 

Smoker will have to keep an eye on you, to make sure you don’t get into trouble you can’t get out of…

Ace

One day, Ace realizes that in all the months since he’s officially joined the crew, he’s never seen you fight, not even to spar.

When he asks Marco about it, he says, “Oh, that’s because of the collateral damage, yoi.” Ace thinks Marco is joking and laughs. Marco does not.

But can you blame Ace? You’re one of the gentlest pirates in the fleet. You’re the kind of person who stops crewmates from squishing bugs, and who’s so stricken by the dead dogs at the end of your novels that you cry for days afterward (getting to hold you when you seek him out for comfort rules, but why you keep reading those, he does not know.)

After a battle with an enemy crew, one in which you don’t participate, Ace asks some crewmates why you abstained.

“Same reason Pops doesn’t join the small fights,” Haruta says. “Too messy, you know?”

“Wait, just how strong is Y/n?” Ace says, now realizing Marco was being serious earlier.

“Don’t worry about it, Ace,” you say behind him, making him jump. “Just know I’m stronger than you.”

That stings his pride, enough so that he challenges you to a friendly match while crewmates exchange glances.

“Sure, after you’ve rested from this fight. I’d hate to have a handicap.”

“I’m not tired! I can take you right here, right now.”

“Right now?” At Ace’s nod, you shrug. “Well, okay then. Here I go!”

You vanish.

He can’t sense you anywhere. By the time he figures out you’re behind him, it’s too late. One of your hands wraps around the back of his neck, the other on the hem of his pants. When he can’t escape by turning into flames, he knows you’re using haki.

You proceed to slam him face-first into the deck so hard he breaks straight through it, stuck upside down in the wood. The crewmates on the floor below blink up at him.

“You challenged Y/n, didn’t you,” one of them says.

Once his head stops swimming, Ace pulls himself out. His nose is broken and bleeding and he’s covered in scratches and splinters, but he’s looking at you with a newfound sense of awe.

“Logia types,” you shake your head, lip curling, “always so full of themselves.” Then you look stricken. “Oh, I hurt Moby again... Pops will scold me…”

And, look.

Ace knows what he likes. He’s not ashamed to say he found the whole thing extremely hot, but he has the decency to keep it to himself. (Literally the entire crew could tell, but no one tells Ace that either.)

He can’t stop thinking about the fight (if it could even be called that.) He stays awake at night, picturing the way your mouth moved when you said ‘Logia types,’ the little smirk afterward. He had always liked you, but now there’s a newfound aspect to his attraction, and he’s down bad.

Ace wants to know even more about you after that, asking you about your history and how you learned to fight. Luckily, you don’t mind the attention, and your humoring him feeds into his ego until he’s practically following you around in his free time. The rest of the crew takes notice, teasing him about being your shadow–but you never complain, so why should he care?

You've been spending lots of time together since then. He keeps fantasizing about saying “my partner can kick your ass” to people, but he hasn’t actually asked you out yet. It’s unlike him to be so gun-shy, yet every time he works up the nerve to ask, he only gets as far as “Hey, Y/n?” before your sparkly-eyed, saccharine “Yes, Ace?” crumbles his confidence to dust. But he’s Fire-Fist Ace, damn it! He faced Pops alone to save his crew, so why is this so difficult?

If he asks the other Division Commanders for help, expect a Looney Tunes style sequence of each one suggesting a courting method and it failing spectacularly and going up in literal flames, until he finally gets so frustrated with the whole thing he ends up just shouting his confession.

Bonus:

“There, there,” Ace says, patting your back while you cling to him and sob into his shoulder. “It’s just a stupid book.”

That was the wrong thing to say. With your emotions already running high, your misery shifts to rage in an instant.

“YOU JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND THE BOND BETWEEN A KID AND THEIR DOG BECAUSE YOU ATE EVERY ANIMAL YOU ENCOUNTERED GROWING UP!!” you wail, then hiccup, sob, and bury your face into his chest.

Ace wisely decides not to point out the food scarcity of his home island. There are better times, and at least you’re holding him tight...

[a-court-of-lust-and-stardust]

Love on Ice Chapter 10: The Hickey

One of my favorite chapters 😉 I hope y’all enjoy some tension 🫦 Another chapter will be posted Friday ❤️

35 days until Competition

It was one of those days where no matter how hard they tried, Azriel and Elain were not in sync. His entrance into the straight line lift was too slow. Her exit on the stationary lift was unsteady. Their two foot turns were sloppy. Everything about their program was uncoordinated, and the frustration had gotten the best of Elain. 

“I’m done for today,” She decided after another failed attempt at a smooth exit out of the stationary lift. Mama would have scolded her for giving up, barking that she stay on the ice until the move was perfected. She would have listened, too. “I’m going home.” 

“How? I drove you,” Azriel reminded her, firm hands on his hips as he watched her skate away. His tone was a bit more clipped than usual. Not only was her cold demeanor unpleasant, but the new hockey schedule had been weighing on his mind for the last few days  and he wasn’t sure how to bring it up. It wasn’t everyday that he was out of sorts, but he had his moments. Today was just one of them. 

The sway of her hips as she angrily glided across the ice temporarily suspended his irritation. She’d filled out over the years, growing into a body that was strong and shapely, wearing curves in all his favorite places. And maybe it was wrong of him to stare, but her legs were clad in bright blue leggings that left little to the imagination. He swallowed thickly, allowing himself a brief moment to take in the swell of her backside, the way it’d fit nicely in his hands and—.

“Well hurry up and take me home, please. I can’t stand to be here for a second longer.”

Even the attitude dripping from her voice wasn’t enough to kill any sensual thoughts about her ass in his palms. If anything, it spurred them on. Blood rushed to his cock as thoughts of her soft skin flooded his brain. While he was fully content to stand there and appreciate her body, he was more determined to uncover what had ticked her off.

In a swift motion, he skated over just in time to block her path to the ice door. Annoyance rippled off her form. Would it make things worse if he told her just how cute it was when her nose scrunched up? Probably. He’d do it another day, then. “You want to fill me in on what’s going on?” He asked, folding his arms across his chest. The black compression shirt strained across his body. Hard as it was, Elain willed her eyes to stay above his chest so she didn’t fall into a spiral of picturing the well defined muscles underneath the fabric. 

“Nothing is going on,” She said, a bit too quickly to be taken seriously. She turned the question on him, quirking a manicured brow. “Do you want to tell me what's going on with you?” 

“I asked you first.” 

“That is childish,” she scolded, mimicking his stance. 

“What’s wrong, Elain?” 

“Nothing, Azriel.” 

“What’s wrong, Elain?” He repeated, voice tinged in vexation.

Her eyes shifted to his neck. The mark was still there, fainter and covered by his chain, but it was visible and all that mattered is that she saw red. She bit out, “You have a girlfriend. That’s what’s wrong.” 

The second it left her mouth, she wished she could have taken it back. It didn’t sound like a mere observation or an innocent question. No, it sounded like pure jealousy. And Azriel had the audacity to look amused. 

“Okay. That came out wrong,” Elain explained hastily, palms outward in defense. “I don’t care that you have a girlfriend. I care that you didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t realize you were so hellbent on learning about my love life,” Azriel said, shoulder leaning against the protective glass boards. 

“It would’ve been nice to know,” Elain chided, hands on her hips. “I pride myself on being professional and respectful. I would never want to cause any issues between the two of you because we’re skating partners. So yes, you should have told me about her.”

Azriel licked his lips once, clicking his tongue in thought. “I have a girlfriend,” He reiterated slowly, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his light gray joggers. “This is the first I’m hearing of her. Tell me, what’s her name? What’s she like?”

Elain’s eyes narrowed, shifting her weight to one leg. “Are you fucking with me right now?” 

Azriel hummed. “If I was fucking anyone right now it would surely be my girlfriend, but I don’t have a girlfriend, Elain. I haven’t had one for years.” 

Her spine straightened. 

Shocking. And…kind of unbelievable, given who he was and what he looked like. 

“Okay, fine,” her hands slapped against the sides of her thighs. “You met someone in the club, took her home, slept with her, and then kicked her out in the morning.” 

“I can assure you I’m a gentleman,” he said, hazel eyes darkening. His mouth twitched comically. “I offer breakfast in the morning because I usually like to go all night long. Works up quite the appetite.” 

Her cheeks flamed. “Is this funny to you?” 

“Oh, I’m having a great time,” Azriel answered truthfully, a grin dancing on his lips. “I finally think I figured out why you’re asking me all these nonsensical questions,” he pushed off the glass and came forward, his large frame towering over her as their chests brushed. Big as he was, she didn’t balk from him. Never him. “Elain Archeron…you want to be my girlfriend, don’t you?” 

What?!

“I–what? No, I do not want to be your girlfriend,” She emphasized, though her voice shook with every word. Forcefully, she rammed her finger into his neck. “What I want is to figure out why there is a hickey on your neck.”

Azriel paused, blinking owlishly. 

And then he laughed. 

He laughed long and loud and hard, almost doubling over on the ice. Dumbfounded, she watched his body shake gleefully. She figured she must have screwed up somewhere, because something was humorous and she felt like she was on the outside of an inside joke. Her skin burned each time he looked at her, huffing out smaller laughs as he began to settle. 

He pressed a firm kiss to her forehead and squished her cheeks, stating through his giggles, “That’s not a hickey, Elain. Cassian was fooling around during practice and accidentally shot a puck at my neck." 

If she didn’t want to disappear before, now she truly wished the ground beneath her feet would swallow her. Azriel’s teeth caught on his lip, watching twenty different emotions flicker on her face. 

“A…hockey puck,” She confirmed, unable to hide the quiver of her lips. This was funny. Oh, this was really fucking funny. “You got hit…in the neck…with a hockey puck.” 

He nodded, eyes sparkling.

And then they both erupted into another fit of laughter. Azriel pulled her into his body, dusting a kiss over the top of her head as she squeezed her arms around his waist. “Gosh, I sounded like an idiot.” 

He rubbed her back soothingly. “No, you sounded jealous.” 

Elain pulled away, gently pushing his chest.  “I was not jealous, Azriel. Jealousy implies feelings.” 

“Right, you don't do feelings,” He contended, rolling his eyes. 

“Exactly,” Not wanting to ruminate on the feelings she certainly didn’t have, Elain asked, “So, what was wrong with you today?” 

And it must have been bad, because she’d never seen him look so dejected. Almost as if he were contemplating whether or not to be truthful. Her heart dropped when he clasped her hands. “The championship hockey game is the same day as the competition.” 

Eleven of the worst words he could have uttered.

At the worst time, too, because her heart had finally started to feel lighter. 

One sentence, and Mama’s dream was wiped away for good. 

"It’s immediately after the competition," Azriel went on. "I can absolutely attend both. But Rhys…" A long, drawn out sigh. "He doesn’t want me doing the competition with you, in case I end up injured in a freak accident of some sort." 

“And I agree with Rhys. You need to go,” Elain choked out, voice wet as she peered up at his solemn face. It broke her heart. “You should only attend the game, Azriel. I can…figure something out." 

Dark brows furrowed. “Absolutely not. We’re doing the competition. Together.” 

She huffed, rolling her eyes now to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. “I can’t let you do this. If you were to get hurt during the competition and had to miss the championship game, I would never forgive myself." She skated back a step, ready to glide off the ice and curl up under a warm blanket. Anything was better than this. Standing here in pain, in such a terrible, unfortunate predicament. 

“Hey,” he twirled her back into his chest, gently gripping her hips to keep her in place. “You are not letting me do anything. I am a grown man who can make his own choices, and I am choosing to honor the commitment I made to you. Don’t try to talk me out of being there for you. The game is not my priority. You are." 

Heat pooled in her belly at the conviction in his voice. 

He was adamant. 

Strong and sure and unwavering in his choice. 

Prioritizing her. 

She’d never had that before. 

And if he could do that for her, choose her, then she could do something for him too. Her lips curled, one finger gently tracing over the black ink on the side of his throat. His pulse fluttered under her touch. “Well, it looks like I’ll be attending my first ever hockey game that day, too." 

Azriel’s smile lit up the rink. He took her hand from his neck, holding it by his side as they skated off the ice. He said to her softly, “I’d like that.” 

They shucked off their skates and packed up their bags, linking arms as they headed for the parking lot. Before they reached his car, Azriel smirked, “By the way, I think it’s only fair I ask you the same thing you asked me.” 

She paused, cocking her head in consideration. 

He bent down to her ear, breath hot on her skin as he whispered, “Elain, are you fucking anyone?” 

It was sinful coming from his mouth. And the look on his face was entirely feline. 

She pulled away to stare at him, cheeks flushed rose. “No,” she breathed. “I’m not.” 

But two more words echoed in her head, ones she didn’t dare utter out loud. 

Not yet. 

ARTWORK FOR THE CHAPTER BY @chachachai17: Here

DIVIDER BY: @saradika-graphics

[dippers-guide-to-the-strange]

The thing was, I was not trying to be mean to you. I was not saying ageism is the SAME as racism. It's just as bad though! The reason I was saying this was that also. The post by drifting stars Mabel was partially untrue. He doesn't ship 'mabill' and they never did! If there's screenshots, that's fake. also, he apologized to drift. Plus, they literally transitioned. THIS KID WATCHES SOUTH PARK AND HAZBIN HOTEL. And don't even get me started on this persons art! He also almost committed suicide Because GOD DAMN, you actually kind of started it by reblogging the post that was made like 2 or more months ago. And people started reblogging. This kid is going to lose their account (maybe life too) one day thanks to everyone who reblogged that post. Maybe give them another chance. In the last ask I was not trying to sound rude, so my apologies. I'm not trying to sound rude here even.

//Okay for one it was sent to me, two don’t you fucking blame me for someone’s suicidal tendencies, you have no idea what kinda shit I’ve been through myself, you wanna SEE my left leg buddy?? Also, again, I don’t CARE how mature they are, you are ENTIRELY missing the point. You are making a big deal out of me simply seeing something, reblogging it just in case, and blocking someone. You are acting like I am openly harassing them and telling all of tumblr to go bully them. Grow a spine. Don’t care if you’re being mean or not, this is entirely unnecessary to send me an ask about, and incredibly accusatory. I don’t care what’s true or not, I don’t care about the full story, it’s not my goddamn business and I do not want it to be. If you continue to press this nonexistent issue, I’m blocking you. And no, ageism, which as my girlfriend said is absolutely NOT what you think it is, is not even REMOTELY as bad as racism in the fucking slightest and the fact you have the audacity to compare the two royally pisses me off.

[funkii-fox]

Should I block the French Guy?

This mf has the audacity to pretend to agree that AI “art” is wrong, then STILL is using AI to generate images of his ocs. I posted the quote of Araki condemning AI “art” and this fucking guy has the audacity to like it, even tho I had him in mind while posting it.

I was like “yk, I havent seen this guy’s story in a while because it’s 100% hateful, maybe I should check to see if he still does.” The most recent one I could find was from September 8th in a highlight abt ocs, but that’s not to say he hasn’t used it since and just didn’t save it to highlight. Make of that what you will, but I choose to believe he’s still using AI. I remember once I even had a convo telling him to stop using AI, but bro just went “ok” and still used AI BRUH🗿

But guess what else I saw: he likes Jimmy 😭😭😭 this was 100% expected tho. He once changed his pfp to Curly and i was like “your ass is NOT Curly ur Jimmy bro.” He posted 3 whole stories abt the community judging ppl that like Jimmy. He compared it to how ppl like DIO and said its bc he has pretty privilege and not Jimmy and thats why ppl judge them. I won’t lie; yes, most ppl like DIO bc hes pretty and charming, but at least he has some types of redeeming qualities. Jimmy is just 100% asshole. Every scene you see of him is he’s being a jerk or a fuck up that says “i can fix this” but actually can’t. Mouthwashing is SO un-nuanced in the way you’re supposed to hate Jimmy, it’s amazing rlly. We’re not even shown much of his personal life or other aspects of his personality; unlike other antagonists like Kira or Diavolo.

Now, am I gonna throw rocks at your window for liking Jimmy? No. Do what you want. But, i will psychoanalyze you and conclude that you like him either for the abusive dynamic or you like him bc he’s like you. This guy 110% likes Jimmy bc he’s relatable.

Simply looking at it face value right now, the way this guy is so OBSESSED with other people is insane. 90% of my conversations w this guy has been bruja arianna, snerufu, antis, women who make self insert ocs, or his arch nemesis Fay that he just can’t stop stalking. It reminds me of how Jimmy was obsessed and jealous of Curly’s success. He is also negative all the time. Even when making a joke, the punchline is always someone else or a cheap horny joke that comes across as a 7th grader. It reminds me of how Jimmy HAD to take Curly saying “i want more in life” the wrong way. It even manifests in the way bro had Curly as his pfp; because he wants to be like Curly.

We met from me shitting on bruja arianna. My criticism came from logic and a want to make change in the community, but it’s clear now that his criticism comes from hate and insecurity. He’s so passionate about hate, i think it’s the only thing he’s passionate about. He’s not even passionate enough about his own ocs to draw them himself. He’s so hateful he makes fun of women in the fandom for damn near anything they do, as if millions of ppl don’t also see him as a woman and as if he never lived as a woman. Then he hides all of his edginess as “im French lol we’re just angry :p” be so serious

His only other characteristic is being hypocritical. This guy “doesn’t deserve hate” but is constantly negative all the time. This guys gets upset at shit on a screen just to search it up more. This guy HATES bruja arianna for mocking trans men, yet all his male ocs are “androgynous” no mf they look like girls.

Chat, I don’t care anymore about being stalked. I’m stronger now. I have better things to worry about now that I have a life. I don’t care if he talks a lot of shit nor do I care if he “exposes” me for some made up bs. He can have a tantrum all he wants; i have better things to care about

Poll whether I should block him under the cut.

[firecrackerhh]

Yknow what? Fuck it, I’m in a petty fucking mood tonight and a certain Squidiot has decided to commit the sin of being, as usual, a terrible person to people undeserving of it, and I don’t tolerate bullshit. No one asked me to do this obviously but if you think I need permission to be a fucking bitch to people I deem worthy of such rage, that’s never stopped me before.

This bitch has the FUCKING AUDACITY to tell someone to get therapy for their “unhealthy coping mechanisms???”

Squidiot? The same clearly delusional dumbfuck who made a fucking google doc on every fucking “problematic” thing Viv has ever done? The same dumbfuck whose been such a pain in the ass to everyone on Twitter that both Viv and Morgana Ignis blocked them? The same bitch who makes long rambling near incoherent posts bitching about Viv and Helluva as if anyone beyond their braindead followers gives a fuck? The same bitch who keeps claiming they’ll leave and yet—surprise surprise—they never fucking do?

Ok I’ll be fair here, the last thing isn’t a sign of mental illness. It’s just annoying.

“Get better coping mechanisms.”

And you think you have the right to tell other people how to deal with their fucking trauma???? What the fuck is wrong with you???? Deal with your own shit before you go judging other people’s!

If your blog is any indication you have a lot of shit to unpack yourself.

Also, considering your absolutely deranged and frankly stalker like behavior towards Viv if not various crew members, I think if anyone should “get help” it’s you.

Assuming you aren’t already getting help (which doesn’t look to be doing much by the way if you are)

Like you said, you’re a trauma victim yourself. So how on earth can you be so fucking rude and basically shit on a fellow victim of abuse that was just as if not worse than your own, all because their way of dealing with their trauma isn’t to your liking? That you personally believe it causes harm?

How would you feel if someone said the same thing about your coping mechanisms?

Especially ironic considering it seems you deal with your trauma by being a major fucking cunt to people who don’t fucking deserve it.

How do you feel right now?

“Get better coping mechanisms.”

Don’t get me wrong, I can understand completely why you would want to avoid such content. I’m not a proshipper myself (in the sense that I personally don’t have those kinds of ships…unless you count oc/canon as problematic for whatever reason.) but I’m sorry, you can’t expect the internet to be a 100% super safe space where nothing ever makes you uncomfortable. That’s not realistic. It is your responsibility to avoid whatever triggers you. Block, mute, whatever you gotta do to keep your clearly struggling mental health intact. No one is here to baby you. You have to put in the effort.

To expect other people to do it for you automatically is immature and selfish.

I don’t mean that clearly struggling mental health comment as an insult btw. It’s frankly obvious to me you need some kind of help. It’s so obvious that you’re fucking miserable.

I would pity you if only you weren’t such a bitch. So intent on making everyone else as miserable as you.

That’s fucking sad dude. Dragging other people into the mud doesn’t make you any cleaner.

You say you’re leaving and all, but I know how hyperfixations work my dude, I should know, I’ve been obsessed with Hazbin (and to a lesser extent Helluva) for what’s going to be 4 years. I get the fucking rush of talking major shit on your blog is fun and all but Christ, you just sound so fucking angry. All the time. Isn’t that exhausting? I think it’s exhausting.

I know my header is tis I the werebitch but damn dude, I can only get angry so much about one thing before I stop caring at some point.

And then you say even dumber shit and suddenly I have an intense urge to tell you to go fuck yourself.

Contrary to the vibe I probably give off to the few followers that actually take the time to read this bullshit, I’m not exactly the most confrontational person irl. I’m actually quite shy in social situations and every time I fuck up even slightly in public I want to die, but I know what’s right and wrong, and this shit? Shitting on another victim of abuse because you think THEY’RE coping wrong?

That’s fucked up. That’s wrong. That’s fucking disrespectful.

Your own trauma is not an excuse to be a fucking asshole to other people.

And I have a low tolerance for bullshit. For those who claim to be righteous and yet their actions prove otherwise.

How do you fucking sleep at night? You’re so fucking convinced you’re some fucking martyr or something, that you’re helping people.

Has fucking anyone been helped by you? Or is this more for your fucking ego?

I don’t know nor do I want to know why you are who you are, there’s no excuse for this shit.

This shit is outright cruel. You’re cruel. Victimizing others will not make you feel better about yourself. Not in the long term. What you’re being is a BULLY.

I don’t respect bullies.

You treat people like shit for reasons I will never know. I understand you supposedly want to help people not suffer the way you did. But what you’re doing? Ain’t it chief. You do not help victims by bullying them into the “correct” way to handle their trauma. You’re just giving these people more trauma.

I’ll ask again. How would you feel if someone told you they didn’t like your coping mechanisms? I don’t care if it’s morally correct in your view to try and bully abuse victims into submission, or at the least dismiss their opinion because it doesn’t fit your narrative.

Rather hypocritical of you given you claim the fandom does the same thing…

I don’t like how you feel the need to “cancel” people over shit from a fucking decade ago when said person has obviously changed. I think your attitude is fucking whiny, immature and overall unpleasant. You make those long ass posts under the delusion anyone fucking cares enough about you to read through that bullshit. At least I have the decency to put my rant posts under a very specific tag that people can filter out if they so choose.

And the worst part is this whole thing will probably fly right past you.

Yeah, instead you play victim, as you always do, focusing on whatever well earned insults I’ve thrown at you instead of the actual point. Like a child. Assuming you find this of course.

And hmm…funny, what was that you said about me?

Iron. E.

Projection if nothing else.

I said what I meant and I meant what I said. If anything from the few posts I’ve made about you bothers you, maybe learn how to self-reflect on your actions instead of blaming everyone else. Like a child.

I reiterate.

Get. Better. Coping. Mechanisms.

Fix. Your. Shit.

🧨🔥~Firecracker out~🧨🔥

[corpseaten]

Exactly my point, for this reason at some point I started blocking some popular yan blogs because it was getting on my nerves the audacity of those. I’m not the friendliest person and when I see people over friendly with each I get easily triggered. I understand to some extent that most of them are just lonely and feel connected by talking about their beloveds/darlings to each other but personally I can’t sympathize with this kind of behavior.

I’m sorry you’re still fatigued but at least now you’re feeling better compared to before, if you need to vent or anything I’m here for you. You said that you’re almost nineteen, is your b-dat soon to come? Also I need to see that bag please, I’m curious to know how it looks like.

If I have to be totally honest I refreshed so many times your blog just to see if you sent a reply to my ask, I don’t really have “friends”. Most of them are just people I know but I don’t consider them close enough to me, I just call them with that term because it’s the closest thing I can think of. Sometimes I don’t get myself but I can pretty much understand emotions, when it comes to me I just feel like a vessel and nothing more. It’s not like I’m emotionless but I prefer to show my well crafted facade if it makes sense to you

-🥩

I do not have them blocked , I just do not follow them! It is quite annoying that some more popular accounts just blatantly aren’t yanderes. like why be on yanblr literally just go somewhere else? I’m not friendly either but that’s what a yandere is, if you care for someone other than your beloved then, you aren’t a yandere. . . If they are lonely, should they not just go and talk to their darling? Or do things on their own? I would never decide to go and make friends out of my loneliness.

It’s okay . . it is probably just the stress getting to me, hopefully soon I will be better, I appreciate you being here anon! Indeed, my birthday is in less than two months now, a little scary, my final teenage year. I’ll post it in a separate post after this, so, it’s easier to find for anyone who is curious !

Ah, You have? May I ask why you’ve been so eager to see my replies? I do not have anyone close like that, I think any non-romantic connections are worthless! I am awful, I know. I do get what you’re saying, I feel the same sometimes, but I don’t think I do a good job at holding the facade up, at all.

[melodramas]

i’ve been holding this in for a very long time but i finally feel that i can share my experiences with tori, @lizzo. though this is just one interaction that i had with her that sent me over the edge, tori (a 24 year old white woman) has a history of harassing both people of color and minors (or people who are both, like me). when confronted about her disgusting actions, she acts like a typical white woman: being angry and defensive at first and then making herself out to be the victim time and time again. 

solely for context purposes, this post also brings up alana, @seegoldendaylight, a 34 year old woman who runs a sideblog for the film call be my your name, a film with blatant and graphic pedophilia. when i confronted her about this (completely civilly), she also made herself the victim and claimed that she was being bullied by someone who was half her age at the time. i don’t have the screenshots for the conversation as of right now, but when i did discuss this with her, i remained civil throughout; until she began accusing me of baseless bullying. 

the incident covered in the screenshots below happened on november 2, 2020 (a day before the elections in the usa). 

it’s important to note that this is not an isolated incident. i know for a fact that tori has harassed other minors and people of color in the time between november 2 and today, but it is not my place to share what she has done to them unless and until they feel safe doing so.

the post continues under the cut because it got quite long. please share this and block tori to reduce this racist woman’s platform on this website. 

at the time this occurred, i was 16 and tori was 23. trigger warnings for racism, lgbtqphobia, and pedophilia mentions.

for context, tori was discussing how important she felt it was to cut off conservative friends and family completely because they “didn’t care about lgbtq+ people and Black people.” she brought up her own experiences and how she, personally, was able to cut off conservative people in her own life and asserted that anyone who wasn’t able to do so was a terrible person. 

as seen in the last screenshot, her main point was that even if it was unsafe for someone to disagree with conservatives, they needed to do so.

tori then elaborated and went on a rant about her own situation and how she, personally, was able to successfully get out of a homophobic area and cut off these conservative people, saying (presumably to the other people in the conversation) that she was “tired and angry and somebody should be.” 

at this point, i entered the conversation and (as a moderator) tried to defuse it by speaking civilly with tori and trying my best to explain how tori’s perspective was often unfeasable, especially for people of color and minors. rose (notably a non-usamerican white adult) also agreed with me for the most part.

when i brought up the opression faced by lgbtq+ people in other countries, tori mocked me (and rose) for bringing up these other nations. as soon as we pointed out her aggression, tori made herself the victim by claiming that we were undermining her.

here, the conversation shifted. realizing that there was no way she could spin this in her own favor, tori switched gears, bringing up a conversation between me and her friend alana, @seegoldendaylight. as mentioned above, alana is a pedophilia apologist who is an avid fan of the film call me by your name and believes that all criticism of the film is a personal attack on her. 

tori mentions the old discussion once again, claiming that i undermined her experiences by accurately stating that it’s impossible for some people to cut off conservatives. she also asserts that cmbyn is a film without any pedophilia, all while knowing that it features a graphic, sexually explicit mlm relationship between a 17 year old boy and a 24 year old man. 

she doesn’t let go of the idea that “things are different in italy” to justify her baseless argument. she claims that i, a minor of color, harassed her friend when i civilly approached alana about the issues with the film.

she gaslights me, saying that i’m trying to manipulate her by telling her that pedophilia is bad. she makes another baseless claim when she says that i am only ever sporadically active “whenever i have a point to make.”

she brings up the baseless bullying claims at the same time that she is actively harassing me for expressing my discomfort and disgust towards pedophilia as an lgbtq+ minor of color and ceaselessly asserts that she is in the right.

as soon as other members enter the conversation, tori makes herself the victim again, calling me the bully. she shifts all blame off herself by refusing to acknowledge her aggression by saying that she was “apparently” rude when multiple members in the server were uncomfortable with her behavior.

she brings up alana once more, talking about her friend’s panic attacks that she gets because she is scared of being called out for supporting pedophilia in media. when i bring up my own panic attacks that i have experienced over the course of my time on tumblr that have been caused by the fetishization of lgbtq+ minors of color by white adults, she dismisses me entirely. she has the audacity to claim that all i care about is winning this argument when she mentions my supposed “moral high ground” when the actual issue at hand is her blatant racism and aggression towards a minor of color.

the discussion closes with this. tori summarizes what she believes has happened, completely leaving out how aggressive and blatantly racist she has been throughout the conversation.

apparently, she hates conservatives because they constantly undermine lgbtq+ people and people of color but is unable to have a single civil conversation about her own racist behavior.

please do not engage with tori and just block her. once again, her url is @lizzo. she has a long history of harassing minors and people of color while refusing to learn and grow after her disgusting behavior. she consistently acts like the victim when she is rightfully called out and expects people of color to be civil to her when they explain, time and time again, how she has been openly racist to them in the past. 

thank you for reading!

[duskandstarlight]

Embers & Light: Chapter 43.5

Notes: So when I posted last week I realised a few hours later that I hadn’t posted the whole chapter! So, here you go. An early, albeit short, update. Thanks as usual to my beta @noirshadow, who is incredibly patient with all my E&L ramblings and makes sure my writing actually makes sense!

Chapter 43.5

Nesta

Cold air snapped at Nesta’s body as Sala flew her to Lorrian and Frawley’s. Cassian travelled behind her, trailing her path, the beat of his wings grating on her until she wanted to scream. 

Of course, he hadn’t let her fly alone. He’d had to make sure that she was safe. That bond again, dictating his desires. Nesta didn’t understand why he couldn’t see that.

By the time she landed, Nesta had whipped herself into a fury that was frantic in its making—quivering with an energy that made her want to roar and sob until she was consumed with it.

“You’ve done your job,” she spat at Cassian, as he landed softly on his feet beside her with a neat retraction of his wings. “Now leave me alone.

They had landed just before the pine trees of the Eastern Steppes, where the forest decided to part for its witch and her home. The pine needles blocked out the sparkling stars above, casting the forest into smudgy shadows that made it near impossible for Nesta to pick her way across the ground, despite her fae eyesight. 

When she stumbled, Cassian flared his magic to light the way but, thankfully, he did not dare reach for her. Loose roots and fallen branches created obstacles underfoot, but Nesta let her body tackle them blindly until she cleared the tree line and suddenly she could see again.

Nesta picked up her pace, storming along the paddock fence as the cottage came into view. The building’s shape was blanketed by a coal-night hue, save for the buttery light that fogged around Lorrian and Frawley’s bedroom window. Besides the smoke puffing from the chimney, the night was alarmingly still, as if had taken in a gasping breath in anticipation of what was to unfold beneath it. 

The absence of Illyria’s fierce wind in Nesta’s anger felt foreign and infuriating, so Nesta walked faster, creating her own breeze. But the soft caress against her cheeks rather than the hurricane she longed for only served to sharpen the blade of her anger until it was lethal.

“Running away again,” Cassian growled from close behind her, his resolve to stay silent clearly breaking as Nesta stormed past the paddock entrance. He caught her wrist with a leather-clad hand and Nesta’s body jerked backwards as she was pulled towards him. 

“Why are you fighting this?” he asked as she snarled at him with such savagery it sounded like a wild animal. His voice cracked like ice over a river. “Why are you fighting something that I know makes you happy. I can make you happy, Nesta.”

“Stop it,” Nesta cut back, the slash in her voice a warning just as much as her words. Because Cassian sounded so agonisingly sad it bruised her lungs, every breath coiled with pain. 

“I’m not letting go,” Cassian told her, and they both knew the meaning was figurative as well as literal as he searched her face for something that would tell him to stay. “You can shout and scream and bite all you want, but you are not running away from me again. Not this time.”

Go home, Cassian.

“I don’t need someone to make me happy,” Nesta spat. “I can be happy independently of you.”

“You can have both.”

A cold, cruel laugh bubbled out of her. “Is that what you tell yourself every day when you pretend you can wear me down? Do you think I don’t know what you’re doing? That you’re hoping I’ll give in and accept a bond I have explicitly told you I do not want?”

Cassian didn’t let go of her. Instead, he pushed her hand back to her as if it disgusted him to hold onto her. Nesta caught how his black hair sifted, the strands shining in the starlight, just before she turned her back to him.

It wasn’t too late to catch the curl of his lip and the way hurt seized the green and brown of his eyes. “You think I lie to myself? Nesta, you pull the wool over your eyes every damn day!” The last three words were staccato, thudding after her as she all but spirited away from him on a storm wind. “You have wanted me since you met me. Admit it. You want me and I want you. It’s simple. It’s all simple if you’d just stop fighting—”

The audacity to insinuate that Nesta’s feelings were inconsequential was too much. It hurt more than anything else Cassian had ever said, the rest of his barbs merely needles to this blade. Because none of what was between them was simple. It was a tangled web of terror and confusion and a desperate need Nesta did not understand.

The ignorance—the implied slight at her intelligence—had Nesta whirling, cutting Cassian off mid-sentence. Magic thundered through her veins, her power barrelling to her palms. She had to expel it—had to let it out like a curdling scream. Without thinking, she flung out her hands.

Nesta’s magic flew, roaring silver flames closing the distance between them. All she cared about was making Cassian recoil when her fire sizzled into nothing millimetres from his face. All she needed to see was the froth of his anger as it finally boiled over and met hers. 

But Cassian moved quicker than Nesta had ever seen him. Red light shot from his siphons but this time there was no shield like there had been all of those months ago. Magic barrelled from his chest, his shoulders, his knees, the backs of his hands to meet hers—all of that magnificent power channelled towards her. 

Scarlet and silver lit up the clearing, bathing their surroundings like glistening blood. Nesta braced herself for the slamming impact, expected for them to both be thrown backwards, but that wasn’t what happened. Instead, her body was seized with a sudden vigour—like a wonderful, gasping breath. And their magic… it didn’t clash. No, their jets of power melded together, silver meeting red until it formed a smooth running stream. It glimmered, quiet and calm in contrast, like the calm and tranquil night sky.

It felt right and wonderful and infuriating. Even Nesta’s magic was betraying her. Even her power couldn’t help but want him, even when she was incandescent with rage for the warrior before her.

Unleashing a growl of anger, Nesta dropped her hands in defeat. They hung at her sides, a useless deadweight. She was panting hard, even though what she’d just done hadn’t exerted her—it had been easy and right and thrilling, as if she’d just woken up from a very long sleep.

For a moment, there was only silence. Cassian’s chest was heaving, his hair as wild as hers. His hands were still outstretched towards her, each and every one of his siphons activated and glowing. Like her, he was staring wide-eyed at the magic that hung overhead like a mist, their very own canvas of stars.

When his eyes flicked to hers, the shock in them was still stark. In fact, Nesta could have sworn she spied terror in them. He stepped forward—her Cassian—but Nesta stepped back. A disgruntled growl rumbled in the back of his throat, and then he was striding towards her before she could even think about moving away from him. Stopped when he was a breath away from her.

Pine and musk wound around her body in an invisible embrace and Nesta’s face crumpled at the familiarity of it. She wished she was curled up beside Cassian in bed, her limbs tangled in his, her nose buried in his neck. She wished she’d never challenged him for answers in the bedroom earlier. Wished she was still living in blissful ignorance.  

Two calloused hands came to frame her face and Nesta couldn’t find the will to shake them off. Couldn’t. 

“Nesta,” Cassian rasped.

Nesta managed to shake her head. Go away. Please.

Cassian’s expression broke even as it remained still. Nesta didn’t understand how, but it did. It was something behind his eyes—the faint flicker of his eyebrows as they dipped in and out of a frown. 

But Cassian didn’t drop his hands from her cheeks, as if he knew she didn’t really want him to leave her. Brushed his thumbs over her cheeks—wiping away the tracks of fury that had fallen from the corners of her eyes.

“Do you want me or not?” Cassian asked quietly, after a long while. His eyes searched into her silver eyes—pierced her soul. Flames danced in the reflection of his irises. And Nesta knew that this was taking everything for him to ask it out loud. “Do you want me, Nesta?”

Run, run, run, the Cauldron mused in Nesta’s head, as it cast that sleepy eye on her. 

Nesta shrugged out of Cassian’s embrace. Her movements were syrupy, as if the air around her had thickened, but still she managed to turn. Her entire body was shaking—whether it was from that leftover rage, or because her heart was breaking, Nesta wasn’t sure.

A sob heaved through her body but Nesta caught it before she made a sound. She couldn’t let Cassian see it. Couldn’t let him know how much she was affected by him. 

Slowly, Nesta walked to the cottage. She was still coated in Cassian’s magic, his scent on her tongue both divine and hellish. And that alone made her want to cry even more. It served as a reminder that she was constantly at war with herself. This battle that had been thrust upon her, chaining her free will and making her question everything.

“Leave me alone,” Nesta ordered flatly, without looking behind her.

Nesta didn’t know why she expected Cassian to stay. To fight. But the sound of beating wings filled Nesta’s ears just as she reached the backdoor. It felt as if someone had closed a fist around her heart, squeezing and squeezing until the blood ran dry and veins popped under the pressure. 

Frawley was waiting at the threshold, her expression grim. The witch held the door open in invitation.

But Nesta paused. Turned back to the paddock.

Cassian was gone.

Tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @arinbelle @superspiritfestival @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @mylittlebigplanet @biggestwingspan-az @bellsqueen @ekaterinakostrova @bookstantrash @prophecyerised @rainbowcheetah512 @awesomelena555 @wannawriteyouabook @lovelynesta @melphss @laylaameer01 @a-trifling-matter @grouchycritic7794 @thalia-2-rose @champanheandluxxury @swankii-art-teacher @princessconsuela02 @lavendergoomsltd @princessofmerchants-reads @jeakat @sjm-things @imwritingthesewords @nestable @inejbrekkxr @silvernesta @inyourmindeye @amelie775 @helen-the-weirdo @pizzaneverdisappoints @wishfulimaginings @trash-for-nessian @my-fan-side @sophilightwood @valkyriesupremacy @vidalinav @onceupona-chaos @inardour @thesunremembersyourface @teagoddess99 @ellies-iced-coffee @nehemikkele @misswonderflower @nessiantrashh @kawaiteacup

[sodasback]

Ex BF - Part 2

Drew Starkey x Reader

Part 1

You guys, I changed my mind, this one just works so much better as a Drew Starkey fic ...so fuck it, I’m just gonna post what I had on my deactivated blog. 

It had been months since you ran into Josh on set at Drew’s work. Luckily, Drew was only in a couple scenes for that project and he only worked on that show one more day without running into Josh. Now, you, Drew and a lot of the Outer Banks crew were all in LA again and going out to a bar.

Unfortunately for you, and everyone that night, Josh and his friends were at the same bar.

“Oh hey, it’s y/n and her movie star boyfriend, Andrew.” Josh said as he appeared next to you and drunkenly leaned an arm on your shoulder. If looks could kill, the look on Drew’s face would have for sure been the death of Josh. It was a mixture of shock and rage at the audacity of this guy. Drew was so taken aback, he didn’t know how to react.

You uncomfortably chuckled and squirmed out from under Josh’s arm to stand in front of Drew quickly, not knowing if Drew’s truly calm nature could be tested any further. “Mhmm, great to see you Josh.” You stated dismissively.

Your effort to separate them was lost as Drew instantly and easily maneuvered you behind him protectively. You turned for the bar as quickly as possible, hoping to end the situation there, so you grabbed Drew’s hand to pull him along with you.

“Aww, y/n/n, you’re not gonna stay and let me get to know your little boyfriend?”

You felt dead weight behind you as you tried to pull Drew away. 

“Bro, I’m telling you right now, back the fuck off.” Drew stated. You whirled around to get in front of him, as Josh took a step forward and titled his chin up, “Or what?”

You put your hands on Drew’s chest. He easily looked over your head to continue glaring at Josh.

“Drew” you said sternly. He glanced down at you for a second, before looking back up at Josh. Josh smirked and waited to see what Drew was gonna do. “He’s not worth it. Trust me.” You said. Drew looked down at you and softened. 

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder an you wrapped both arms around his waist to walk to the bar. 

“You know, as hot as you are when you get all scary like that. I really really don’t want you getting in a fight because I have an absolutely horrible ex boyfriend.” 

You emphasized the first part of this sentence, but Drew just gave you a deadpan stare. He knew you were trying to flirt with him to get him to relax. And you knew it was too late at this point. As evolved and emotionally intelligent as Drew was, he had now entered caveman mode. Josh challenging him because of you triggered instincts deep within him to meet that challenge aka defending your honor. ...1 point toxic masculinity, 0 points non-violent female empowerment.

At this point in your life, you were happy. You had everything you wanted in your career. You had a beautiful apartment. Your family was healthy. You had the best friends you could ask for. And of course, you had Drew. Drew was the one. He was your soulmate. Your best friend. And you knew it. You didn’t feel the need to put Josh in his place any more. You just wanted to keep enjoying your life. You had time to make peace with what Josh did to you and you felt like you moved past it and him. Yeah, you felt like you were past it, you tried to convince yourself. It had been years since the incident happened and you and Josh broke up...

Flashback

You and Josh were 20 and had been on and off for a couple years. One night, you had both been out, when you started fighting, something that wasn’t new to your relationship. Josh had been flirting with another girl a lot of the night and gaslighting you to make you feel like you were imagining it. As you brought up the flirting again, he was reaching for his car keys. You were pissed that he was using this tactic again. He would leave until you calmed down and started to worry about him so much that you would just finally give in and forget the fight, instead of holding him accountable. You were so mad at him for making you feel like you were crazy and for always manipulating you by leaving. You couldn’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth, “Sure, just leave again. Fucking typical, Josh. Like father, like son, I guess.”

And before you could even process what happened, the whole right side of your face was stinging, a cut near eye was bleeding from his ring and your ears were ringing. Josh had just backhanded you hard. Time stood still for a moment as your hand went to cradle your cheek. You were absolutely shocked.

“Oh fuck. You okay?” 

You finally looked up at him with an unreadable expression on your face. “..don’t make this a big deal, okay? That was a really shitty thing to say and you just made me so mad, I couldn’t help i-” At that point, you stormed into the bedroom and locked the door. He now was faced with you being upset and maybe even losing you; he started knocking on the door and apologizing profusely after realizing your reaction. You were completely blocking out all the noise coming from the other side of the door as you tried to gather your thoughts. 

Okay, that was a really low blow. Yeah, but he HIT you.

I definitely shouldn’t have said that. But he HIT you.

Maybe I deserved it. No, he HIT you. You continued to argue with yourself.

What would you tell your y/bff’s/n if this happened to her?

What would your mom or dad tell you right now?

If he did it once, he could do it again.

...this isn’t the first time you’ve been scared of him.

...but he seems genuinely really sorry.

You opened the door to find Josh sitting on the ground leaning against the wall. He looked at you scared and hopeful, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry for what I said. It was really unfair and hurtful of me.” You stated genuinely.

Relief washed over his face for a second, “I’m so sorry baby. I swear that will never happen again.” He said, as he got up and he started to make his way to hug you. 

“Yeah, I know it will never happen again...” you held your hand out to stop him from touching you, confusion now evident in his expression, “because we’re done.”

His face dropped, expression now being somewhere between confused, angry and disappointed. Josh wasn’t used to you putting up boundaries and not letting him get away with all the shit he pulled. “Y/N-” he started. 

“No.” You said adamantly, “Frankly, I don’t care how sorry you are. I don’t care how much I pissed you off. I don’t care how much you promise that will never happen again. Our relationship was toxic before what just happened. I know I’m not perfect and I have a lot of things to work on. But I 1000% know in my bones, that I WILL NEVER let you hit me again. I deserve better. We’re done. I’m going to my parents’ house. I’m coming back tomorrow between 10 and 2 to get my stuff. Don’t be here.”

A couple months later, you had a text from an unknown number. It was Josh borrowing a friend’s phone to text you, since you blocked any way he had to contact you. He apologized. He held himself accountable. There was no deflecting or manipulating in the message and he promised he would never contact you again. You replied: “Thank you for your apology. Yes, I’d appreciate it if you don’t contact me again.”

And that was it. You ran into him briefly at the grocery store once and you had been in a really good mood. Your interaction was light and almost flirty. You felt so ashamed about it later, but you hadn’t seen or heard from Josh again until years later, with Drew on set. And little did you know, seeing you with Drew set something off in Josh that he just couldn’t let go.

-

As you stood at the bar, waiting for the bartender’s attention, you turned to see the caveman version of your gorgeous boyfriend still glaring, his fists clenching and unclenching.

“Babe.” You said and he looked at you.

“He’s got fuckin nerve.” He said shaking his head and you took a deep breath ready for the rant, “First off, called me a movie star. I am a serious actor, Y/N.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at Drew being offended anything this asshole said and Drew’s eyes widened at you and you stifled a giggle while you laced your hands around his neck to appease him, “Mhmm” you encouraged. 

“And then he called me ‘Andrew’“ Drew went on. And you nodded and gave him a sympathetic pout, “I know, I heard.”

“And THEN, he has the AUDACITY to put his fucking arm around you?! Bro, I’m heateddddd-” He continued, barely paying attention to you as you leaned your body against his. You ignored the fact that he just called you bro and tried a different tact. 

“Drew, stop. You can’t get into a bar fight. Think about your job.”

“I don’t care about my job. I care about you.”

“That’s not true. You do care about your job. And I know you care about me. But if you get into a fight right now, it’s not gonna change what he did to me. It was a long time ago. We’re not together anymore. I’m over it. Punching him is not gonna do anything except jeopardize your future.”

Drew still had his fight face on, “Well, knocking that smirk off his fucking face would sure make me feel better.” He said and you scowled at him. “And for the record, I don’t think you’re over it. And you don’t have to be. You never have to be over it. And that doesn’t mean you aren’t fucking strong and badass.” 

You were quiet as you contemplated what Drew said. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before looking at you. “Okay” he said softly. 

 “Thank you” you said softly before you pulled him down to kiss him. After a minute of you successfully distracting him with a pretty passionate slow kiss, you felt Drew melt a little. 

“Hey, I’m sorry. Do you want to leave? Like do you not feel like being out anymore?” He asked sweetly.

“No, I’m okay. He’s just being a drunk asshole.” You turned away to grab the drinks the bartender poured for you and Drew, “We probably won’t even see him for the rest of the night.” 

You turned back and realized caveman Drew was now glaring at Josh again as you spoke, “..or not.” You rolled your eyes.

Despite the bad beginning, you and your friends ended up having fun as the night went on. And you and Drew proceeded to drink. Which was probably not the smartest decision. You were both feistier when you drank and you knew Drew’s natural state of calmness was only going to wear off as the night went on.

Eventually, you had to go to the bathroom. But you didn’t trust Josh to not instigate something with Drew while you were gone and you didn’t trust Drew to not try and avenge your honor while you were gone either. So you found Austin, Chase and JD. Chase and JD were only half-listening as they watched whatever game was on the tvs at the semi-crowded bar. 

“Guys, I need you to watch Drew while I go pee.” You said. Drew rolled his eyes and hung his head back with a groan.

“What’s the rig?” Austin asked, ironically using his favorite word as he put one arm on your shoulder and the other on Drew’s.

“Drew is trying to fight my ex-boyfriend and you need to stop him from ruining his career and/or going to jail for assault.” You looked at Drew as you finished your sentence remind him that he could get in serious trouble for getting in a fight. Drew scoffed as Austin looked to him for confirmation of what you were saying.

“He called me a movie star dude” Drew said.

“Oooff” Austin agreed that this was a major dig.

“And then he called me ‘Andrew’“

“Ahhh man” Austin commiserated, “This kid deserves to get hit for sure.”

“Austin!” You scolded, “You are not helping!”

“Bro, that’s not even half of it. Like what he did to Y/N; he deserves to get the absolute shit beat out of him, I promise you-”

“Okay, stop! We’re not discussing this. Chase, JD, you are in charge of Drew. Keep him occupied while I go pee and don’t let him ruin his entire life by getting in a stupid bar fight. And Austin, stop encouraging him and keep your mouth shut til I get back please!” You commanded, as you pushed Drew and Austin toward Chase and JD. JD gave you a salute while he put his arm around Drew’s shoulders. 

While you were gone, Drew was drunk and spilling all your business, trying to get all 3, also drunk, boys on his side. “Guys, you don’t even know. This guy is the biggest asshole.”

“Wait, is he really? Or do you just not like him because he’s y/n’s ex?” JD asked.

“No dude. First of all, he like cheated on her a bunch of times; he was super manipulative and .. he fucking hit her once dude.”

The all looked at each other, “What the fuck?!”

“Like hit her?”

“Yeahhhhhh, like physically hit her face.”

“Well you are completely justified, brother.”

“Yeah, we have your back man, whatever happens.” They all nodded and broke out of their little huddle.

“Look! No fighting!” Chase said proudly when you got back, opening up his arms.

“Good job Chase. Gold star” You said returning his quick side hug.

The group decided it was time to go to one more bar, so you all walked out the back ext into a big alley. Where, of course, Josh and his friends were smoking and noticed your crew before you noticed them.

“You think her movie star boyfriend knows what an uptight little prude she used to be?” Josh said to his friend loud enough for you to hear. You honestly didn’t even care about what Josh said, you knew he was trying to get Drew to react. And you knew even your sweet, soft Drew was not immune to anger getting the best of him. Drew stopped walking, still slightly turned away from Josh and just shook his head, not believing Josh’s audacity. 

Even though the guys had been supportive when they were talking to Drew about fighting Josh, no one actually wanted that to happen. So Austin was quickly by Drew’s side, “Don’t do it bro. It’s not worth it.”

“Drew.” You said trying, to get him to focus on you. Unfortunately, you were with a group of boys full of testosterone and Chase was also feeling feisty and protective. 

“Hey, why don’t you shut the fuck up bro” Chase said, taking a step toward Josh, but luckily a level-headed JD was immediately pushing Chase softly backward. 

“Ooh maybe, she’s not such a prude anymore. Maybe she’s sleeping with the whole cast; they’re all so protective of her.” Josh laughed.

“Josh stop! What the fuck is wrong with you?” You yelled at him. And Drew was instantly moving in front of you, “You need to stop talking right now man.” Drew said in a tone that made the hair on your arms stand up. You could feel the tension rolling off Drew.

“Drew calm down. Please.” You pleaded as he looked down at you.

“Y/n, I can’t let him talk about you that way.”

“He’s trying to get under your skin. That’s what he wants.”

“Yeah, well it’s fucking working.”

“Drew, come on. Let’s just go home.” He began to give in as you pulled his arm. 

Josh was obviously determined for a fight, because the next thing that came out of his mouth made it impossible for anyone to stop Drew.

“Hey good luck with y/n, man. I treated her like trash for years and she still came running back to me, bitch has got issu-” And before he could utter another word, Drew’s fist connected with his jaw. 

“Fuck.” You cursed as your hands went through your hair and you backed up between Austin, Chase and JD.

Josh recovered and hit Drew in the eye. 

You gasped. Turning into JD’s chest and he protectively wrapped his arms around you. Drew hit Josh again and he fell to the ground. Drew bent over him and punched him again. “Don’t you ever fucking talk about her again!” He yelled through gritted teeth, “Don’t look at her again. And if you EVER touch her again, I swear to God-” he spat in between a few more punches. 

“Drew! Please!” You yelled and finally Austin pulled him back. “That’s enough, bro.” 

“Come on” JD still had his arms around you, walking you away from everything. 

Drew was breathing heavy and trying to overcome his adrenaline. You and JD were already around the corner with most of the group. 

“Come on, let’s go” Chase ushered Drew away with Austin. And they followed in the same direction. Drew saw you walking ahead of him. 

“Y/N” he called after you softly. You stopped and turned around. He was already right there enveloping you in his arms. 

“Fuck y/n. I’m so sorry.” He muttered kissing the top of your head. You just kept holding each other while the group called Ubers. 

You pulled away from him a little, “Are you okay?” You asked trying to get a look at the bruise forming on his face. “Yeah, baby. I’m fine. I’m so sorry I did that. I’m sorry I put you in this situation.” He said, hugging you again. After a long pause, you pulled up and looked up at him:

“Thank you.” You stated genuinely and Drew looked at you surprised. But while you continued to look at each other, you both understood without saying anything more. You both knew it wasn’t okay that Drew just got in a fight. And you both knew you didn’t need your boyfriend to defend you honor, but you were thankful someone finally had.

Taglist: @moniamaybank @abbyj1822 @october-cameron @hernameisnoell @railmerafe @stupidpendeja @lemur46 @phantompogues 

[imthatchishiyasimp]

HELLOOOOO!!!

I'm freaking out this is my first post, like the first one shot I post and write about AIB and Chishiya.

I really hope you all like it, please please please tell me what you think about it and whatever you want to tell me.

It's long (4444 words), I know, but I hate small things because I get upset. It's very close to the story and it doesn't have lot's of changes, I wanted to try first to write about something I know. In the future I will write more original and new stuff. Also, I wanted to get used to the universe and to the characters first.

HAVE A NICE READ 💚

“THIS WAY TO THE GAME ARENA”

The sign flashes all around the city. I slowly walk towards the Toei Sendagaya block apartment, focused on the cube in my hands. Due to having no electricity, I’ve gotten used to pick random things from stores to entertain myself.

It’s still shocking to feel the city so silent and calm, and at the same time it feels terrifying. One would think that being that people die every day, the streets would be forgiving. You can’t even lower your guard now. Even since the first day, I’ve liked walking around the streets, checking out shops and random apartments. I kinda feel powerful, but it’s something that deep inside I know it’s just fake and limited. And I’m not giving up, but at least I’m going to enjoy now that I can, until ‘they’ decide that I’m not needed around anymore.

The tall complex shines between the bushes and buildings, its lights on every floor lighted on. I place myself a few meters hidden behind the stairs leading to the central lobby. From there, I sit and watch people climb the stairs. A couple of them look pretty scared and lost, showing signs of this being their first game. The rest all look shaken up but used to this. When it looks like no one else will come, I get up and get to the crowd around the phones.

There’s thirteen people waiting and all of them look at me while I pick the phone from the table. When the facial recognition is finished I can see that there’s only a few seconds left for the game to start. Almost didn’t make it. Would have been stupid to die because I was daydreaming.

‘Move aside’ I say to Chishiya, elbowing him after not having a response. He looks at me annoyed and slips off his earphones. He finally moves to let me place my back at the wall and get my hair in a bun.

“REGISTRATION HAS CLOSED. THERE ARE A TOTAL OF 14 PARTICIPANTS. THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE.”

It’s so easy to point out who the newcomers are and the ones that are sick of playing. You can also name who’s going to be willing to put themselves first and who’s going to scary run the whole game.

I start rolling the sleeves of my sweatshirt up when a boy with a cap starts talking to some guys. They look lost, but not new to this. Might be the first week here. I eye them from my spot, not saying a thing but listening to the whole exchange.

“Excuse me, do you know what this is?” He asks a black haired boy. Honestly, he looks a mess, like he has just gotten up from bed and hasn't changed in a few days. “I ended up here and I have no idea what’s going on”.

“It’s a game” He answers. At the same time, the blonde man next to him, probably his friend, tells him to stop it. I chuckle and cover it up with a cough, earning myself a glare from both Chishiya and Aguni. I might be prone to get in trouble with people and they won’t be happy if I screw a game up. Better be quiet.

The blonde guy whispers to his friend and I try to pick something up from the conversation. Not get close to the new ones and something else.

“DIFFICULTY: FIVE OF SPADES”

The card flashes on our phones, telling us the kind of game and the level of difficulty. I was so curious about the card when I got to my first game, I didn’t know what it meant and what I was supposed to do with it. I’m a bit ashamed to admit that I admire the cleverness behind the rules and the method of the games. It’s the work of both a psycho and a genius.

A sporty girl starts to stretch just after the card shows, so she must know what it means. She’s calm and collected and I bet she’s willing to put all of us on the killing zone before she goes down. We could be friends, I think.

I hear a sigh next to me and I catch a glimpse of Chishiya rolling his eyes. He doesn’t exactly hate physical games, but they sometimes mean having to run or climb and he’s not a fan of working out. And, even though he won’t admit it, he doesn’t like having his white hoodie dirty. Not going to judge, I don’t love spades games either, but I will choose them over the hearts ones a million times.

I get down to tie my shoes tighter just in case. I would hate tripping like the clown I really am in front of all these people. Some guy in a hat starts explaining to the two friends from before what it means a spades game. Club games are hard if there are more newcomers than experienced people. I mean, if it's a game where team work means everything, you bet you prefer working with someone who knows the way around the games. Diamond ones are a bit weird: being clever will get you through them, but sometimes the answer is so straightforward that you get lost looking for the catch. Heart games are the worst. They will kill you even if you survive, and pray that you don’t get to play with a friend or someone you know.

“GAME: A GAME OF TAG.”

“RULE: RUN AWAY FROM THE TAGGER.”

“CLEAR CONDITION: DISCOVER THE SAFEZONE HIDDEN IN ONE OF THE BUILDING ROOMS WITHIN THE TIME LIMIT. YOU CLEAR THE GAME WHEN THIS OBJECTIVE IS FULFILLED.”

“TIME LIMIT: 20 MINUTES.”

“AFTER 20 MINUTES HAS PASSED, THE TIME BOMB HIDDEN IN THE BUILDING WILL EXPLODE.”

I turn around to face Chishiya, grinning like a mad girl. He doesn’t even flinch when he stops me from talking. “No, I’m not racing you to the top.”

“But…” I sigh and watch as everyone starts running to the stairs like lost puppies. “You are so mean”. I punch him in the shoulder and cross my arms, walking towards the lift. No need running seven floors up and wasting energy if I’m not even going to be able to brag about having won a race.

Chishiya follows closely behind, probably guessing I’m going to try and leave him there.

“TWO MINUTES BEFORE THE GAME STARTS.”

We get inside the lift and silently wait until we get to the seventh floor. It’s been a long time since I used one, not everyday you get to play in a building apartment. Feels nice, and like we’re back to normal.

Once we get to the top, we both choose a position that lets us have a good look at the whole complex. He goes to one wing while I leave for the other one. No point leaving a flank unseen. I take my cube out and restart it, keeping an eye on the people looking around scattered through the floors. I don’t get why someone would choose saying in the lower ground when a tagger is supposed to chase you through the whole building. Dude, that’s the most critical place to start.

“Hey, don’t get distracted with those games of yours.”

“Don’t be mean, Chishiya. You know I’m paying attention.” Anyway, once I finish the cube, I keep it in my pocket and rest my arms on the banister.

Aguni and his new friend get to the seventh floor and both of us wave towards him. Like always, he completely ignores us and keeps walking towards another high point.

“That’s nasty” Chishiya says and I nod along. Aguni is always so serious during games, it’s boring.

“I place my bet on those two guys and the sporty girl surviving”. I firmly say. They look like they will make it, but not without having a rough time.

He has the audacity to snort and laugh at me and I look at him surprised. “You’re joking. Everyone looks like they’re about to die, as usual. Just look at them, they don’t know shit about what to do”.

“Were you this calm in your first games? Don’t be mean, they are trying their best. No one wants to die.”

“But, where you that stupid?” He says while pointing to a couple of girls on the second floor who are touching their phones desperately. “I’m not saying you gotta be a genius from the start, but if you don’t collect yourself quickly, you are already dead.”

“Well, my majesty, not all of us are like you, and some people need a little more time, and a little more help.”

Chishiya looks at me and, as if I had imagined, a caring and sorry look crosses his eyes. He probably remembers the first time he saw me get through the games and how I completely lost it once. It wasn’t easy.

“THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE.”

He nudges my arm with his elbow and I look at him.

“THE TIME LIMIT IS 20 MINUTES.”

“Hey” He says with a soft voice.

“GAME START.”

“Don’t die this time.”

“Wasn't planning to.”

“THE TAGGER IS NOW ON THE MOVE.”

As if we all had planned it, the whole complex goes silent, trying to locate this said tagger. A trumpet goes off and everyone looks scared, ready to bolt to wherever they can.

The sound of the lift’s doors can be heard from our position, so the tagger is probably on the sixth or fifth floor.

Not a penny drop can be heard. Not a breath.

Some people start walking and try to open doors. The rest are all watching closely until something happens.

And it does.

Gunshots run through the dense air that surrounds us. I try to see where they come from and I finally catch sight of the tagger. Probably a man, judging for the height, with a horse head and a really mean gun. He’s on the sixth floor, just in front of the stairs.

I point at him and nudge Chishiya, but I already know that he has seen him.

There’s now thirteen of us.

And then shots are fired again and we can see the two friends and the one with the hat running down the stairs, away from the tagger.

“Told you, they are gonna get killed.” Chishiya says with a smirk.

“Oh shut up, this is not a TV show we are talking about. And I have faith in them”.

They split up on the third floor, the hat man keeps going down while the other two try to hide in the hallway. Not long after, on the ground floor that the tagger chases and shots the first one and finds another man freaking out. I don’t know if it’s better that he died because he went off the game zone instead of being shot by the tagger. Anyway, he’s also dead. And that makes three dead players.

Eleven participants left.

“See, they are smart. At least the cute one”. I say smiling.

Chishiya looks at me and raises an eyebrow, silently questioning just what I said.

“What? It’s not like I’m lying; he is cute, and smart.” I laugh and wink at him, cutting eye contact with him. If we are going to have an awkward moment, please don’t be while we are playing for our lives.

The killing spree of the tagger continues with the pretty and lost two girls. They sure are on their first game, because they look so freaking scared and unprepared. I mean, who would have come with heels and handbags. I scoff and shake my head watching how one of them falls dead and the other one wastes an incredible opportunity of getting away while the tagger reloads. Well, not all of us are strong enough to leave our friend and not panic at the same time. Shame she has to die, anyway.

So now we are nine players still alive.

Looks like everything’s gone silent again, until shouts break the silence and we all look for the source. It’s the cute guy and I laugh when I understand what he’s saying.

“Everyone! The tagger is currently at the second level of the central area! The tagger has bad vision because of his mask! Let’s inform each other of the tagger’s location and search for the safezone together!”

“Oh my god, did he seriously turn a spades game into a club’s one?” I laugh again and Chishiya scoffs under his hood. “I want to be best friends with him”.

“Don’t be stupid.” Chishiya says. We move a bit to see where they are going now that they are all running. “It’s a good idea, not going to lie, but no one will answer him.”

He mutters something else, but I don’t really catch it. I think I saw the tagger doubt his step when he heard the guy shouting, but he definitely looks annoyed when the sporty girl shouts back.

“The tagger is moving from the fourth level of the central area! Anyone nearby, run!”

I celebrate and raise my hands, clapping and laughing in Chishiya’s face. He looks surprised and tells me to shut it.

The girl runs from the tagger and finds an elderly woman in the hallway. With the tagger on their back, they are probably going to get killed. I grip the banister and hold my breath. She seems friendly and clever, I’m internally rooting for her.

Suddenly she jumps off the balcony and starts climbing the pipes up to the next floor. The other woman dies behind her, and the tagger tries to catch the girl but fails.

“She’s pretty good.” Chishiya mutters. “You just wish you could do that. It’s called envy”.

“As if you could do that too. You are just as weak as me.”

“Hey! Don’t throw me in the same casket!”

“EIGHT MINUTES UNTIL THE GAME ENDS.”

“THERE ARE CURRENTLY EIGHT SURVIVORS.”

Already? We should start moving.

I look at Chishiya under my hair and he frowns at something. I follow his gaze and see the tagger looking at the cap boy from an upside floor. What’s shocking it’s him starting to shoot from there. He has been killing just people he casually finds while walking around, not shooting from that distance.

The boy goes down, but looks unharmed. The two friends are on the same floor and get to him, running away from the door he was trying to open.

Not bothering to ask Chishiya if he got that, I start jumping on the place and keep my phone in my pockets. He slides off the hood and shoves me towards the stairs.

“Shall we, ma’am?”

“THERE ARE FIVE MINUTES REMAINING.”

From the corner of my eye I catch Aguni intercepting the boys and I make a face. It doesn’t always go well when he does that, he tends to let them die in order to have his way. The sporty girl stops to talk to them and she starts jumping from floor to floor.

“Do you think someone’s going to get it too?” I ask out loud. Chishiya shrugs and keeps on walking. I tsk and stay behind him when we get to the hallway. I turn around and watch my back, even though I heard a fight somewhere near. Probably Aguni, who are we kidding.

Just when we are arriving at the safezone apartment, the cute boy appears from the other side.

“Cute boy! I’m glad you realized it!” I happily say without thinking. I mouth a silent sorry when he looks at me a bit perplexed. Chishiya elbows me, hard, and I whine a bit. That’s mean.

He picks the doorknob first, but doesn’t open it. The three of us are watching closely, and honestly I’m a bit nervous about the time. I don’t like risking it as much as Chishiya.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” he asks.

The boy answers a couple of seconds after, lost in his thoughts “Why did the tagger chase us? He could have just waited here.”

He is onto something. Now, I’m not liking this at all.

“Seems like there’s something else we don’t know.” Chishiya says, keeping his calm exterior. He’s going to use this poor boy in case he has any doubt of a risk. “However,” he adds, taking his phone out “if you don’t open it…”

There are three minutes left.

Sweat starts running down my back, making me shiver and hold my breath while I watch the boy start turning the doorknob. All our phones beep announcing the time left until we all die with the bomb.

Slowly, he opens the door with caution. We all walk inside, in silence and with darkness surrounding us. It 's empty. No furniture, neither personal objects nor some leftovers of someone’s life. A few steps in we notice a door at the end of the room and we all walk towards it.

It’s not until we are too far inside that another tagger walks out behind the door.

“Look out!” the boy screams and pushes us out of the shot range.

Gunshots fly around the apartment and I duck behind the bathroom door. Chishiya uses the taser and the tagger goes down, but recovers quickly and starts shooting again. I scream when a bullet gazes at my arm. It fucking hurts, but at least the bullet didn’t got me completely.

I can hear the apartment door being shut and the other door at the end closing too. They must have gotten through them. I hope they aren’t harmed.

I wait, trying not to make any sound in case the tagger comes to finish me off. I search through the room, but nothing seems lethal enough to use like a weapon. I hate bringing weapons to games, I don’t really want to kill anyone if I can help it.

Gunshots are fired and I cover myself up, even though they are not directed towards me. Fighting blade weapons? I’m okay with that. Fighting people? Not against it. But, I have nothing towards a gun. I mean, it can take me from a long distance! No point.

“Everyone! The safezone is in apartment 406! It’s impossible to clear the game alone! We need two people to do this!”

Are you kidding? This is so mean. What if you were the only survivor? Not fair, not at all.

Well, it seems like I should get moving and try to do something useful in this game. I haven’t done shit, now that I think about it.

Slowly, I open the door just in time to see the tagger shoot the door and break the safelock. I take small steps following it, ready to throw myself to placate it. Just when the gun is going up I jump and kick the tagger in the knee, managing to bring it to the floor.

I hear a scream coming from the tagger and a lady cursing from behind the mask. She starts shooting and I scream trying to cover myself without being hit. The guy bolts and tries to help me get her off the gun, but she keeps fighting like a mad person.

We both go down before she gets us with the bullets and I catch a glimpse of Chishiya at the door, trying to help but having to cover himself because of the lost shots.

The phones all inform us of the ten seconds remaining at the same time that the sporty girl jumps through the glass of the balcony. The tagger kicks me and gets the gun pointing at my face and I panic just a bit before I push back. The other guy tries to help me, but with no help.

“Hey!” Chishiya shouts.

I’m on the floor fighting the tagger with the gun under my chin, trying to get it off my face, but I see him throwing the taser to the girl and she quickly gets the tagger down.

I let out a sigh before I heard the time almost coming to an end. My eyes search for him and we lock our gazes. I can feel the breath we are both holding and the silent words running through our minds. My fingers clench and I swallow, accepting death like a forgotten friend, saying goodbye with a blink.

But, just like that, with a blink, it all finishes. The buttons are pressed on the last second and we all hear the beeps from our phones.

“GAME CLEAR.”

“CONGRATULATIONS.”

In that same moment, the tagger gets the mask off and we can see an old lady crying looking at us. The collar in her neck starts beeping faster and faster and I scramble to get away from her. Chishiya grabs both my arms and I scream at the touch in the bullet gaze from before, but he doesn’t let go and gets me away at the same time that the collar explodes, killing the lady.

My whole back is covered in blood and I roughly grab Chishiya’s hoodie. I don’t want to look at her and see what we did, even though it was unintended. She was also playing, and she died because we won.

Chishiya and I are left in the room with the dead tagger, and he grips my hand and makes me let go of him. He starts checking the pockets of the lady and gets something out, but I don’t register exactly what.

I get out of the apartment to breathe. I hate this part where we really think about what went down here. Lots of people died, and we got a few days to live just to have to risk it again in the next game. Could have we saved someone? Not really, I know that. But it doesn’t make it easier anyway.

“I’m Arisu.” Someone says beside me. I turn and the cute boy is there, watching me from a distance. “I wanted to thank you, for risking yourself back there. We are alive thanks to all of you.” He sticks out his hand to me and waits.

I’m speechless. No one has thanked me like this in any game. I didn’t really do a thing, but he’s thanking me. I should be the one doing it, he cooperated with the other girl and they stopped the bomb. We could have died there.

I let out a small laugh and shake his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Arisu. And thanks to you, you did the dirty work inside the room.”

I look back inside and watch Chishiya stick the paper in his hoodie and walk towards us.

“I look forward to meeting you somewhere else, hopefully not dead in a game. Be careful and enjoy the warm water in the ocean now that we are all alone in the city.”

With a wink, I walk out of the apartment building with Chishiya not too far behind. I think he heard me talking to Arisu, but he doesn’t comment on it.

We walk, and we walk, and we walk. Neither of us likes to go back to the Beach in the cars, so we always take a stroll through the streets, enjoying the silence and the stars shining above us.

“Does it hurt?” he asks.

“Mmh?” I look at him questioning and he nods to my bleeding arm. “Oh, yes, like a bitch. But I’ll have to wait until we get there.”

He tsks and grabs my arm, leading us to a pharmacy around the corner. I don’t say anything, knowing he will shut me up and will only be a waste of time. We get inside and he starts looking for some disinfectant and bandages.

He knows his stuff. I was surprised at first to discover he knows his way around the medical grounds; and I’m glad he does. It doesn't hurt having someone nearby capable of dealing with nasty wounds.

He silently works and I watch him closely. He’s handsome. And he knows it, that’s why he smirks feeling my gaze on his face. I trace his features taking my time. His eyes are the most scary thing I’ve ever met. They hold so much knowledge and feelings. I always feel like he could take me apart just with his eyes. He mostly covers his emotions, so even though you search for micro expressions, you will come empty handed almost always.

I bring my free hand up and run my fingers through his hair. I love it, it’s so smooth and soft. And the fact that he always wears white to match his hair makes me smile like an idiot.

Chishiya clears his throat and starts covering up the wound. My hand drops and rests in his arm, basking in the heat he’s making.

Once he’s done, he brings down my sleeves and looks me in the eye, silently checking if I’m okay. I nod and take his hand, quickly gripping and, just as fast, letting go. I can hear him sigh behind me, and he follows behind.

“You know, I’m glad I met you here, but I would have prefered meeting you in the real world.”

“Why?”

“Because I know I will be safer here with you, but I also know the probability of us having a happy ending is minimal while we are here.”

“You are not wrong.” A couple of minutes goes by until he adds: “But that doesn’t mean you can’t try and make the most of it while you are alive. It will hurt more, but at this point, who cares?”

I let out a breathy laugh and turn around to hug him. Hard. He stops and lets me hug him, finally giving in and hugging me back. I hide my face in his neck, breathing deep and closing my eyes. I can feel his pulse and his chin coming down on my head, his hand running through my back.

“You are an idiot.”

“And you are mean. Deal with it.”

I swear I can feel his lips kissing the top of my head, but it’s so fast I can’t be sure. He starts walking again and I run to catch him before I lose him.

We may have a complicated relationship, if you can call it that. We are there for each other, not sure of what to do, what to give, what to take. But we do not give up. I’m just glad I’m not alone, and thankful that I have someone looking out for me.

I smile all the way to the Beach.

[capricorn-stark]

Headphones

pairing: dick grayson x reader, established relationship, fluff

warning: mild language, yet another late night idea that came to me from absolutely nowhere

a/n: IM ALIVE!!!!

The music in your headphones were blasting at levels that you knew would make you deaf a little too early in life, but personally, you were enjoying yourself a little too much to really care.

After all, didn’t everyone tell you to live life in the moment? Sure, usually they weren’t implying that you needed to destroy your health and hearing in order to accomplish that, but anyways - you were enjoying your little session of listening to music and casually tapping through your phone.

Or you were, until someone had the audacity to take your headphones right off of your head.

Your reaction of hey! was met with an obnoxious laugh from Dick as he slid them over his own ears, much to your chagrin. 

“This is what you were listening to?” he asked, avoiding your attempts at smacking him to get the headphones back with perfect ease. “This is why you were ignoring me while I was tryna talk to you for the past five minutes-”

“You weren’t even here!” You protested loudly as you were forced to actually set your phone down and think about moving from the couch to get them. You could never get a break these days. “I literally didn’t even see you!”

“I was right over there across from the armchair!” he insisted in return, and you finally let out a very deep sigh as you pushed yourself out of your seat. You would return, after you took your rightful property back from your jerk of a boyfriend you totally hadn’t ignored. On purpose. “I was trying to talk to you about going out, ‘cus I got a day off tomorrow-” Dick laughed and dodged another one of your attempts to steal them back. “-and I thought you’d be into the idea, but I guess not-”

“I am into the idea!” Attempting to yank his arm down with just your incredible brute strength and sheer power clearly wasn’t working. The guy’s biceps were made of steel or something. Little perks of being an acrobat. “Just not while you steal my stuff-”

“What’s mine is yours and what’s yours in mine, babe,” he told you with infuriating serenity as he evaded yet another one of your brilliant tactics to grab them back. “And sharing is caring - you have some interesting songs in this playlist.” 

“We can’t all listen to 80′s boybands, can we-” 

“That’s what Babs thinks I listen to!” he protested with a groan, grin breaking for just a second as he pressed a hand to his head. Alas, he didn’t break long enough for you to get them, blocking your hands just before you could touch the headphones. Victory had been so close, yet so far away. “Ha, nice try - and for the record, I don’t know why she thinks 80′s boybands are the music to my soul-” 

“I heard you listening to New Kids on the Block last week!”

“It was a moment of weakness!” he repeated insistently for the five-hundredth time since the incident had taken place, groaning yet again while his face flushed pink. “You weren’t supposed to see that!”

“Dick, I’ve seen your 80′s boyband playlist on Spotify, you don’t have to keep denying it,” you deadpanned, actually pausing from your endeavor for a second to give him a disbelieving look. 

“What?” Clearly, this was news to him, because he paused from trying to dart away from you as well. “When?” 

“You made it a public playlist.” 

“What?” The shock in his voice and the way his eyes widened actually made you almost laugh. “No way - there’s no way I - dammit!” 

You had managed to back him all the way up to the side of the sofa, surprising him with a push that landed him smack on his back across it, allowing you to let out a triumphant laugh of victory before climbed over him and took back what was rightfully yours. The headphones were still blaring when you moved to set them over your ears, scrambling back up before he could get you back for it.

“So long, Gray - hey!” He yanked you right back on top of him before you could make your grand exit, laughing his ass off while you attempted to scowl and push your hair out of your face. “Seriously? You couldn’t just let me have this one?” 

“Nope,” he answered with a cheeky grin, hands still resting against your hips as he tugged you forward into a kiss. You couldn’t try to stay mad at him after that, and you knew he knew that as well as you did. “But maybe next time, babe. Y’know, you really almost had me there for a sec.”

“I did have you,” you corrected with a grin yourself as you turned off your music, letting the headphones fall around your neck. “I totally had you, you just got lucky right now.” 

“Oh yeah? Is that what you really think?” 

“Yes.”

“Then you’re right, you did have me,” he admitted, causing you to laugh again. “Hey, I can admit defeat! I’m a great sport like that.” 

“Sure you are.” 

“I am!” He rested one arm behind his head, making himself a little more comfortable as he looked up at you again. “And how about that date night tomorrow? If you’re still listening to me, that is-”

“I am listening,” you insisted with a groan, eliciting a grin from him. “And sure. I guess I could hang out with you since I don’t have anything else to do-”

“Else to do - like what? Ignoring your other boyfriends?”

“Exactly.” He was laughing again when he pulled you in for another kiss.

“Got it, thanks for making room for me in your oh-so busy schedule. Tomorrow it is.” You hummed in response, brushing his hair out of his face as you looked back at him with a slight smile.

 “It’s a date.” 

tag list: @cipheress-to-k-pop 

if you’d like to be added to my taglist, just send me a message and i’ll keep you posted!

[palestinianliberator]

To be Palestinian is exhausting

You will not find a single Palestinian who hasn’t had to endure all of the following and more:

Constantly having to prove our existence

[This is going to be a tremendously long post, but I implore you to read through what you can]

Constantly having to educate everyone around us on our history and people while we continue to be slaughtered

Constantly having to combat Israeli propaganda and dehumanization campaigns against us

Constantly having to combat liberal propaganda from those who simply cannot understand the pain and damage they are doing

Constantly having to defend ourselves from the overwhelming forces that stand in our way, from the Israeli forces to the global institutions that help support it to the structures in the US that mean that any Palestinian who dares speak out risk both their lives and livelihood

Constantly in fear of whether or not you’ll end up on another “list” as a result of daring to speak out

Constantly having to do it all again as soon as we’re back on the news

Constantly having to answer for all other Palestinians in a way that nobody else is expected to

Constantly being seen as the “crazy one” when trying to share your narrative, having to defend against an endless barrage of accusations of antisemitism

Constantly being put into situations by bad-faith actors who attempt to engage in “debate” or “discussion” or “dialogue” with talking points that demean and duhamanize you, all while being expected to maintain a smile and cool composure while someone literally debates to your face your own existence or how “actually it’s YOUR people’s fault you’re being slaughtered! Israel isn’t the bad guy here!”

Constantly being forced to choose between engaging in bad-faith debates framed in a way to make you look like the unreasonable bad guy while the person implicitly defending your ethnic cleansing is made to look like the “rational good guy” or looking after your own mental health, knowing that even refusing these “invitations” is itself a mark against you and your people

Constantly being told that you’re too “biased”, too “close”, too “emotional” about the literal slaughter of your people to be seen as a valid source, while Israelis and complete outsiders are given all the space they want to speak for us endlessly

Constantly seeing people being actively mislead and wondering if you have the capacity to reach out to them and attempt to share your narrative with them, knowing that if you don’t, they’re going to go on to propagate the same lies justifying your ethnic cleansing

Constantly having to combat GENUINE censorship throughout the media, social media, and society itself. It’s a fact proven by former Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and Youtube employees that Palestinian voices have their reach censored in a way no one else does, which is why it’s so important to amplify and actively share Palestinian voices rather than just liking or indicating support

Constantly being told you don’t know your own history by people who’ve educated themselves on Youtube and Wikipedia despite having lived the reality yourself and dedicating your entire life to studying every single aspect of it

Constantly seeing those who have the courage to stand alongside you being shut down with accusations of antisemitism and seeing them lose their courage to stand by you out of fear of their own image and livelihood and having to rush to their defense as well

Constantly having to see photos of your people, sometimes even people you know, maimed, injured, murdered, or burned to ash by Israeli aggression but knowing you have a duty to share what’s happening and must stomach the images to show the world the true extent of the suffering we endure

Constantly having to worry not just for your own safety, but the safety of your family and loved ones who can be punished or targeted because of things you yourself say

Constantly wondering who you can actually trust, from new friends and acquaintances to professors to even other Palestinians because we’ve been so heavily infiltrated by Israeli intelligence looking to blackmail Palestinians using anything from their sexual orientation or even made up “evidence” meant to ruin their lives

Constantly having your heart sink every notification you get wondering if it’s news that a loved one has been killed

Constantly seeing the corpses of loved ones shared on social media and reliving the trauma all over again, yet again knowing that you WANT the world to see what’s happening

Constantly seeing the effects this has on your own family and feeling helpless to do anything

Constantly on alert for the FBI at your door as they often “visit” Palestinians who dare speak out, myself included on numerous occasions 

Constantly wondering if your advocacy for your people is going to result in the loss of your job, scholarship, license

Constantly being asked to “humanize” and “feel for” those who live their lives day in day out completely unfazed by your suffering despite living in a society that couldn’t even FUNCTION without our subjugation

Constantly being told “don’t blame regular Israelis, blame the government!!” as if the state itself wasn’t founded on our ethnic cleansing, as if it isn’t “normal Israelis” who make up the entirety of the Israeli Military and have actively brutalized you and your people

Seeing allies you fought for suddenly SILENT when it’s their time to speak up

Studying on a US campus where those SAME SOLDIERS WHO ENGAGED IN YOUR PERSECUTION AND ACTIVELY SERVED AS THE ENFORCERS OF YOUR OCCUPATION then re-enact the trauma against you and you’re meant to simply ignore the fact that THEY ARE THE SAME PEOPLE WHO MURDERED YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY, and not being allowed to even be ANGRY at that

Trying to navigate this half-life in the diaspora where it’s a struggle to connect with other Palestinians given the distance between us and yet not being able to connect with anyone around because, again, they simply can’t understand

Constantly being expected to simply give up your time to those who demand you answer them and debate your existence and narrative with them, who them take you blocking them for your own mental health as a “victory” to be lorded over you when you simply can’t take it anymore

Constantly having to EXPLAIN all of this because nobody but other Palestinians can truly understand just how pervasive, overwhelming, and incapacitating this unique form of exhaustion is

Constantly seeing your erasure and ethnic cleansing defended all over the media, all over social media, throughout your academic career, while those ENGAGED in your ethnic cleansing have the audacity to claim that the media is biased against THEM

Constantly on guard with everything you say and write, knowing that unlike those promoting our ethnic cleansing, we don’t have the luxury of making mistakes or getting lazy in our writing and advocacy. One mistaken source, mistaken information, being imperfect is enough to discredit your voice entirely

The crippling obligation you have to share the narrative of your people, knowing that so many people will view you as the spokesperson of your entire people, knowing how unfair it is, but also knowing that if you DON’T speak out, nobody will on your behalf, and even the most well-intentioned, involved allies can simply never understand how it all truly feels

Seeing the entire world stand by and do absolutely nothing while your people are slaughtered time and time again

Seeing your history misconstrued by people implicitly defending your ethnic cleansing and settler-colonialism

Knowing that our parents have been through this and more, seeing them have to go through this yet again while still being forced to go about their daily lives and given no time to mourn or recover

Not being able to even share our culture without being attacked for it

Knowing that so many of your friends and family won’t ever be able to return to their homeland while foreigners from around the globe are flown into Israel free because it’s their “birthright”

A “birthright” denied to even my own parents, born in Jerusalem yet unable to enter it

Having even self-proclaimed “allies” question Palestinian resistance, policing our tone, never /really/ understanding our pain and anger and how they themselves contribute to it

Screaming from the moment you can about what’s happening to us, desperately trying to get people to CARE, and having it often fall on deaf ears

Knowing that if you’re not the source of information for those genuinely seeking to learn, they may find themselves mislead by sources that claim to be fair and balanced while imprinting subtle lies about Palestine and Palestinians on those they engage with

Not even being able to find the energy and ability to respond to genuine messages of love and support, which are greatly appreciated, and feeling bad about it because you don’t want to seem like you’re not genuinely happy to hear it

Feeling a sense of overwhelming exhaustion in times like this while at the same time being unable to sleep

Seeing the effect all of this has had on your people, knowing your people have among the highest rates of depression on the planet and yet we’re all suffering together with no way to ease the pain

Being constantly exposed to the ways in which your people are erased and questioning if you have the energy or sanity left to deconstruct such aggression to help outsiders understand the severity of it all

Seeing allies suddenly call for “peace” when Palestinians are finally fed up enough to rise up and fight back against an overwhelming military force

I could go on, but in case you it’s not already clear, I’m tired and exhausted

Always wondering if any of this is even worth it when the world has ignored your slaughter and ethnic cleansing for nearly 8 decades, knowing that nobody is about to step in to help now.

Constantly wondering if any of this is even worth it, and then feeling inspired by fellow Palestinians, our resilience, the fact that despite ALL of this and more, we continue to fight.

Despite all of this, I would never even consider or entertain the thought of being born as anything other than Palestinian

[angel-anoetic]

What if you rewrote your last post, but this time it didn’t work, which leads to Skeppy and Bad fighting because Bad still tries to go back to the egg?

Alright, alright, I was not too sure where to start from this, so the last conversation between reader and Bad will be added, but with the alternate ending. Thanks so much for your request!!

SkepHalo x gn!Reader - Let Me Go

Genre: /rom, angst

Warnings: Injury, fighting

original ending

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Red Banquet. Of course, it had to happen tonight. You had done your absolute best to keep everyone away. But you could only do so much. It was the only way. Now you were trying to convince Bad to spend just a few more hours with you. Your final hours.

"C'mon just a quick walk. I promise we'll be back before the Banquet starts."

"Fine."

Yes, finally. Skeppy had been missing for the last few days so you took full advantage of Bad and your alone time, making sure to spend as much as time with him, whether it was a conversation over coffee or a late-night walk around the SMP.

You took his hand, making sure to walk a little slower today, pointing out things you had never really noticed before, and soaking in the sun.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" You looked to him.

He smiled. "Of course I do silly. Me and Skeppy were out mining that day. Somehow, we ended up in the nether and found you casually walking around in the lava, playing with a strider. I think that was the moment we both knew we had to be your friend at the least. I don't think we really thought we would be here though."

As you walked up the path to your home Bad stopped and turned to you, grabbing your hands gently in his.

"Y/N...I want you to know, I really am sorry for the way things have been. I never meant for things to go this far and I really wanted this for us. The three of us. I hope one day you'll be able to forgive me, and we'll be able to pretend like this never happened."

He smiled to you, and you to him.

"I know. Trust me, this will be all over soon." He looked at you a bit puzzled but shrugged it off as you entered.

Once you were both set, ready, and dressed up you were off. Puffy knew what was meant to happen tonight. She swore up and down she would do her best to help the good prevail, regardless of whatever was to happen.

The dinner began, with you sitting, anxious but ready. Puffy kept side-eyeing you, her nerves just as evident.

"The Egg requires a sacrifice. One that will suffice its hunger for a time. Thankfully we have a room of guests."

Now. It had to happen now.

You looked at Puffy, giving her the signal. She motioned to Sam and Foolish.

You stood up, to Bad's surprise.

"Me. I want to be the sacrifice." His face changed. The color came back to him as he came to.

"What? No-no. This wasn't for you my love. We're going to rule together-"

Sam and Foolish grabbed Bad, holding him as tight as they could. He looked around as it dawned on him what was happening. The Egg would fall today.

You walked over, the fire slowly becoming more vibrant. You reached out to him, planting a small kiss on his cheek.

"This is for the best my love. Until we meet again. I hope one day you'll be able to forgive me."

You turned, the tears not even having time to leave your eyes. You ignored the pleas of Bad, begging for Foolish and Sam to let him go and his calls to you, to turn around, to reconsider.

You blocked it out, letting the heat flow from within you out. You gathered what you could, and then some. Would this hurt? You weren't sure. Would this even work? The chances were 50/50. But if there was even a slim chance, you needed to take it.

You thought of the bad, the worst memories you could pull. You focused on the emotions, the feelings of what the Egg had put you through, what it had put those you loved the most through. That was your motivation. That was the reason your power, the fire, grew until you could feel your skin burning.

You stood on the top of the Egg, then waited. Waited until the fire was too much for even yourself. The Egg began cracking under you, screeching as everything around it caught on fire.

"We have to go. Now!" Puffy screamed. Everyone began filing out of the room. Foolish and Sam struggled as Bad fought against their restraint.

"Bad," Puffy crouched in front of him "this is not your fault. They wanted to do this themselves. They wouldn't want you here to see this."

He sobbed as he continued to fight. He was too late. They dragged him out of the room as the walls surrounding them began to topple down.

You had long lost feeling, only letting the fire consume everything around you. You fell to your knees, unrelenting.

Goodbye, my love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your eyes tried to open, but even that was too much effort for you. You could hardly feel your skin. Your mind refused to feel anything.

"I don't know...could be a while."

Sam?

"Please just tell me they'll be okay. Please."

Skeppy.

You let out a small groan. Your eyes finally began to push open.

"Y/N!" Skeppy nearly grabbed at your hand before remembering the aches and pain Sam told him you might experience. "H-hey, how are you feeling?"

"Crappy." You both laughed.

"Language." You heard the small mutter from the doorway. Skeppy and you turned to see Bad, tears staining his face, silently holding himself.

"Bad..." You patted the bed next to you, an invitation he accepted gladly.

He looked at you, the pain and regret visible in his eyes.

"Y/N, I am...I'm so sorry." He let out a small sob, covering his face, "I never, I never would have let you do that if you had told me-" You grabbed his hand, stopping him in his tracks.

"It's okay. I'm here now. That's all that matters. But please, tell me, did it work? Is it gone?" Skeppy shook his head, gently taking your hand.

"I'm sorry Y/N, you did some pretty decent damage, but it's still here."

You looked at the ceiling. Damn it. All that mattered right now was that both of your boys were here with you, regardless of how you had ended up here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first few days had been great. Skeppy and Bad refused to let you do anything on your own, despite your protests. You finally drew the line when they offered to sleep on the floor so you could have the bed to yourself. Bad got up every morning to make you breakfast and took care of you during the day. Sometimes Skeppy would stay home and you would all enjoy a movie.

Until about two weeks ago. You weren't sure if it had been you or Skeppy who noticed first, but nonetheless Bad's absence in the late hours of the nice. He would be back in bed by the morning, but soon he would leave earlier and earlier in the evening.

You were laying in bed, trying to stop a headache from taking over when you heard the door open quietly. Skeppy stood up from where he was standing and crossed his arms.

"Where were you?" He asked a disheveled-looking Bad.

"Nowhere important. How are they?"

Skeppy scoffed, "Just admit it. I already know. But I want to hear you say it. They're doing just fine actually, just a slight headache."

"Skeppy, I don't know what you could possibly mean. I was just enjoying the server for once."

"Stop lying to me. Just say it so I don't have to push it out of you."

Bad groaned and made his way to the kitchen, Skeppy followed, leaving you on the couch.

"I can't believe you sometimes. Y/N is still on bed rest because of what they did for you, for us, and you have the audacity to go back to the Egg!"

Bad stopped and looked to Skeppy. "How-It doesn't matter. Because I'm still my own person Skeppy, I can make my own decisions."

"Oh yeah, my bad, I forgot the world just revolves around you. What about me? What about them?!"

The fight was starting to get to you, pushing your headache to a worse state.

"Skeppy, it's not like that. You know it's not like that. This wouldn't even be a problem if you didn't make it one. Stop being so dramatic."

"I'm being dramatic? Y/N almost died trying to destroy that thing so that we could be free, even if it was without them. And you're here, turning into the same person you were months ago. Do you even listen to yourself?"

"Leave me alone! Let me live. I know what they did, but I also know what the Egg could do for us. The three of us!"

"Skeppy..." You called out softly.

He quickly rushed to you, feeling your forehead, grabbing a wet towel from before. "It's okay, you're okay, I'm sorry for all the screaming darling."

Skeppy waited until you closed your eyes, falling into a light sleep. He refused to look at Bad, studying your face.

"You won't do this to us again. I won't let you. I think I can trust you enough to make the right choice because I know that the Bad that I and Y/N fell in love with is still in there."

Bad stayed silent for a moment.

"I'm going to go before I say something I'll regret."

Bad slammed the door and was off. Skeppy could feel the tears welling in his eyes, but held them back, stroking your face softly.

[mypoisonedvine]

zemo arranged marriage where you always had a crush on him. he never paid you any attention and was always out of reach, so much more mature and older. you hear a rumor he's planning on ending the engagement, crushed you ask for just one night together so you'll at least the memories of him

so let’s not talk about how I wrote this advance and then accidentally posted it early and then had to delete it and was about to ask you to send the prompt again when I realized you sent it last week so I’m actually answering last week’s lmao

anyways this is super angsty and amazingly turned out sfw somehow

In typical fashion, you didn’t realize how desperately you loved him until you realized you could never have him.

Now that you were sobbing in the bedroom that you intended to share with him someday, you wondered how you ever could’ve thought you were lucky to be promised to him.  You were even younger and more naïve then, thinking that he could return your affections; but he was a man and you were just a girl.  Men had better things to worry about.

You’d been engaged nearly eight months now and you had barely had a conversation with your fiancé.  It made you cringe now to remember how desperate you’d been for his attention, juvenile in your repeated attempts to gain his favor.  It always backfired and he ended up further away than ever.

You gasped and jumped up when you heard the door open; he was standing there, staring at you, looking... impossible to read, as always.

“I didn’t realize you were in here,” he stated plainly.

“Well, I won’t be much longer,” you promised, defiantly wiping your tears and standing up from the bed.  “I’m going to make it easier for you, and just leave now.”

He tilted his head and you rolled your eyes.  “I hate when you do that.  Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“I wish I did,” he defended.  “Have you been crying?”

“I heard you’re going to break it off,” you finally explained, and he sighed.

“Oh.”

You stormed to the dresser where you found your old luggage.  “I was just getting this, so I could pack my things from the guest room.”

It still killed you that you’d been sleeping alone in the guest room this whole time.

“I’d prefer that you didn’t leave like this,” he weakly protested, and when you tried to step past him to go back to your room, he blocked the door with his arm.

“Let me out,” you frowned.

“Not yet,” he shook his head.  “Clearly you have more to say.  I want you to say your piece before you go.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Something about the way he said it-- stern but patient, as collected as ever-- just made you fucking lose it.  How dare he be so calm as he threw you away?  How dare he ask you for anything?

You roughly shoved him in the chest, knocking him back into the hallway where you cornered him, tossing your bag aside.  “You want my piece?  Is that it?  After eight months of hell, you want to hear what I have to say?  Whatever happened to ‘stay quiet and we shouldn’t bother each other’?  What about ‘I don’t need your opinion and I have no desire for it’?  Do you remember saying those things to me?”

He nodded, “I remember.”

“For the better part of a year I had so much to say to you and no opportunity.  I wanted to tell you that I loved you, that I loved you before we were even engaged and that I’ve never loved anyone else.  I wanted to tell you how I longed for you, how much it killed me to sleep alone, how the only thing worse than imagining you alone, too, was imagining that you had someone else and that was why you kept me so far away.  I wanted to tell you that I thought myself so lucky to be your betrothed, that I dreamed of nothing more than to be your wife and that I couldn’t wait to have a family with you-- to be a family with you.”

Even though you’d been crying all day already, somehow these tears hurt the most.

“You wouldn’t even let me tell you ‘good morning.’  You’re kinder to the house staff.  Maybe that’s the worst thing... that you’re not a cruel man at all, not to anyone else, it’s just me that you hate so much.  You wouldn’t even let me tell you that I missed you.  And now... now you have the audacity to ask me what I want to say to you?!”

He looked back at you, not exactly as shocked or hurt or angry as you would’ve hoped... yes, a little stunned, but still so painfully calm.  Even now, he couldn’t give you the satisfaction of a reaction.  He just stood there, stoic and silent, like he was waiting for you to do something.  You’d never been so angry, so hurt, all at once.

“I only have one thing to say to you, Helmut,” you finished coldly.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Guess.”

He thought for a moment.  “You’re going to tell me to go fuck myself, I presume.”

You scoffed.  “Yeah, something like that.”

As you started to turn and walk down the hall in search of your bedroom to pack, his voice stopped you.  “There isn’t anyone else,” he told you.  “I slept alone.”

You knew you shouldn’t turn back, but you couldn’t help yourself.  For once he looked a little affected by it all, his expression softer and his hair having fallen out of its style and down into his face slightly.

“I longed for you, too,” he admitted, making your breath catch in your throat, “I should’ve told you, but if you turned me away I’d never recover from the heartbreak.  I thought maybe I could keep you here just to look at you, even if I couldn’t touch you or hold you... but it was too hard.  That’s why I wanted to end the engagement, to give you a chance to be with someone who could care for you like you deserved.”

His cowardice should’ve angered you and yet you began to calm down, especially as he stepped closer.  His hand reached for your arm, just the gentlest touch and it still made your heart skip.  

“I’ve been so cruel to you.  I hope if you leave now, you won’t hate me forever,” he breathed.  “Because I think I’ll love you all my life.”

Before you could stop yourself, you stood up on your toes and pulled him into a kiss, sudden and perhaps a little desperate, but relatively conservative considering how much more you really wanted.  He kissed you back, gently, just for a moment, as you felt his hands rest on your waist.

But then he pulled back and it was all over before it really began.  You didn’t open your eyes at first, afraid to see him for the last time.  “Just one night,” you whispered under your breath.

“Hm?” he asked, and you found the courage to blink your eyes open.

“Just one night,” you requested again, “to remember you by.  I’ve never wanted anyone else.”

He sighed and kissed you again, quickly, before shaking his head.  “I can’t give you that.”

Well, he’d managed to do it; he’d managed to break your heart a thousand times each day and get one twist of the knife in before he sent you away.

“I can’t just have one night,” he continued.  “If you let me hold you, I’ll never let you go.”

You breathed out shakily.  “Is that a promise?”

He smiled and trailed his fingers over yours, resting his touch on the diamond on your ring finger, the one he gave you when it all began.  “You were already promised to me.  I think it’s only fair I finally keep up on my end of the deal.”

And this time when he kissed you, it didn’t feel like a goodbye.  It felt like the beginning you’d been waiting all this time for, it felt like the chance to say everything you never did before.  And instead of one last night, you got everything you ever wished for.