#he won't change just because he loves you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

capquinn · 11 hours ago

Text

「 ✦ CAPQUINN'S DAD!QUINN MASTERLIST ✦ 」

SUMMARY: Quinn Hughes is figuring out fatherhood �� balancing hockey, sleepless nights, and the little lives that mean everything and more to him. It’s messy, it’s sweet, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world because being a dad? It's the best job he’s ever had. PAIRING: dad!quinn x afab!reader AUTHOR'S NOTE: All pieces are posted in chronological timeline order (or as close as possible) KEY: 🐞 = Bug | 🐻 = Cub | 🐞🐻 = Bug and Cub | 👫 = Quinn x Reader

PREGNANCY & BABY FEVER ERA From the first test to the first kick, Quinn and reader are all in. ✧ "We're Having a Baby." | 🐞 👫 Quinn can't wait to tell his parents he's going to be a dad but he's nervous. ✧ World's Greatest Uncle | 🐞 👫 Quinn and reader tell Jack and Luke they're going to be uncles. ✧ Baby Girl | 🐞👫 Quinn and reader find out they're having a girl. ✧ Summer Bump | 🐞 👫 Reader and Quinn enjoy summer at the lake house before their baby girl arrives. ✧ Doting Dad-To-Be | 🐞 👫 It's reader's first pregnancy and Quinn is trying his best to ensure everything runs smoothly. ✧ Peanut Butter and Pickles | 🐞 👫 Reader is experiencing food cravings but it's late, cold and raining outside. ✧ Pop! | 🐞 👫 Reader's bump pops overnight and Quinn is mesmerised... ✧ Bug's Birth | 🐞 👫 Quinn thought he had the whole 'birthing partner' thing down but in the birthing suite he realises just how out of depth he is. ✧ "I Know You." | 🐞🐻👫 Quinn realises you're pregnant again before you do.

THE ONLY CHILD ERA Before Cub, it was just Quinn, reader and Bug figuring things out together. ✧ Bug's First Night at Home It's Buggy's first night at home as a newborn and Quinn is in complete awe of her. ✧ Ticking Time Bomb Uncle Jack and Uncle Luke meet Bug. ✧ Work With Me Quinn struggles to swaddle Bug the right way. ✧ Christmas Tree Lights Bug won't sleep but Quinn hopes a change of scenery will help. Best One Yet Quinn's first birthday as a dad. ✧ "Dada." Bug's first word. ✧ Tea Parties Uncle Jack and Uncle Luke join Buggy for one of her infamous tea parties. ✧ Big Sister Bug finally learns that she's going to have a baby brother or sister to play with. ✧ Bubble Head Bug is watching the Canucks vs. Lightning game when Quinn gets hurt. ✧ Bug's Big Surprise Bug is assigned the very important job of telling the whole family there is another baby on the way. ✧ MWAH! Bug greets Quinn the same way she's seen you do a million times before. ✧ Too Much Energy Quinn comes home to find reader very exhausted and still very pregnant, and a very hyperactive Bug.

THE BUG AND CUB ERA Bug isn’t an only child anymore — Cub has arrived, and life just got a whole lot sweeter. ✧ Bug Meets Cub | 🐞🐻 The first time Bug meets her tiny baby brother. ✧ Uncle Jack Meets Cub | 🐞🐻 Bug is taking her job as 'big sister' very seriously and telling Jack exactly how he needs to hold her baby brother. ✧ Daddy-Daughter Day | 🐞 After Cub is born, Quinn treats Bug to a special day where it's just the two of them. ✧ Family Walks | 🐞🐻 Quinn is completely in his element pushing Cub in his stroller. ✧ The Canucks Family Skate | 🐞🐻 The Hughes attend the annual team family skate. ✧ The Canucks Home Opener | 🐞🐻 It's a special night at Roger's Arena — it's Cub's first game, the first time they arrive as a family of four, and the Canucks first game of the season. ✧ Little Shadow | 🐞 Quinn takes Bug to run some errands. ✧ Bluey | 🐞 Bug's Bluey phase sees the entire family dress up as the Heeler family for Halloween. ✧ Elf on the Shelf | 🐞🐻 Quinn takes his job as Elf coordinator very seriously. ✧ Cub's First Christmas | 🐞🐻 It's the annual Hughes family Christmas movie night. ✧ Outside, In | 🐞 Quinn watches his family and Bug notices. ✧ Happy New Year | 🐞🐻 The Hughes ring in 2025 together. ✧ I Love You | 🐞 Bug always knows the right things to say at exactly the right time. ✧ Bug and Mama | 🐞 Quinn loves watching reader and Bug interact. Loves watching reader just be a mother. ✧ Mama's Boy | 🐻 Cub is the biggest mama’s boy, and Quinn loves it. ✧ "Again?" | 🐞 Bug is less than impressed when she learns Quinn is injured... again. ✧ Valentine's Day | 🐞🐻 Quinn and his family spend the day together. Parents Night Out | 👫 First one to mention the kids loses... Look What She Made Me Do | 🐻 Cub gets jealous when reader gives her attention to his friend. ✧ Favourite | 🐞🐻 Uncle Jack and Uncle Luke want to know who is the better uncle. ✧ Socks | 🐞🐻 Quinn tries to get both kids ready but they're not cooperating. ✧ 43 and His Mini-Me | 🐻 Cub takes the ice with Quinn, Jack and Luke at the end of summer, and his uncles recognise that he's got some talent.

HEADCANONS & MISC. The little details that make up the Hughes family. ✧ Bug and Cub | 🐞🐻 How Bug and Cub get their nicknames. ✧ Huggy Bear Jnr. | 🐻 ✧ Teeny Tiny Jersey | 🐞 ✧ Oops! How Quinn reacts to an accidental pregnancy. ✧ Bigger Than Big | 🐞 How Quinn reacts to holding his baby girl for the very first time. ✧ Captain Daddy | 🐞 How Quinn is balancing life as captain and first-time dad ✧ Late | 🐞 Quinn is late to his commitments every single day because he's staring at Bug napping on his side of the bed. ✧ Baby Wearing | 🐞 Bug loves being strapped into the baby carrier against Quinn, and Quinn loves wearing Bug in the baby carrier. ✧ Mini-Me | 🐻 Cub is Quinn's mini-me down to every last feature ✧ Temper Tantrums | 🐞 How Quinn calms down Bug when she's having a meltdown. ✧ "What's Your Name?" Bug knows her name isn't actually Bug... right? ✧ Child of a Hockey Dad | 🐞 Does Bug have a hard time grasping the concept of why Quinn leaves when she was younger? ✧ Face Off | 🐞 Would Quinn let Bug be a part of his Amazon episode? ✧ Christmas Spirit | 🐞🐻 Does Quinn spoil the kids for Christmas? ✧ The Colour Blue | 🐻 Grandpa Jim looks away for two seconds but with Cub? Two seconds is all he needs to cause chaos. ✧ Bad Word | 🐞 Bug copies Quinn... ✧ Baby Logistics | 🐞 How Quinn would handle if Bug had been born during the season. ✧ Math Homework | 🐞 ✧ Why? | 🐞🐻 Uncle Jack and Uncle Luke get the kids obnoxiously loud gifts. ✧ Snug As A Bug In A... Rug? | 🐞 Jack having a Jack moment about Bug's nickname. ✧ Doctor Bug | 🐞 Bug takes care of Quinn when he hurts his hand. ✧ It Hurts | 🐞 Quinn isn't a helicopter parent... anymore. But when Bug was little, he hovered. A lot. ✧ Sweeter | 👫 18+ only MDNI Quinn's a curious guy. Sometimes, too curious.

BONUS: VISUALS Photos, videos, gifs, and other snapshots that bring the Hughes family to life. ✧ ✧

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction and is in no way affiliated with Quinn Hughes. All characters, events, and scenarios depicted are purely fictional and created for entertainment purposes only. Please do not repost or claim as your own. All works belong to @/capquinn unless specified otherwise.

#finally organised our lil dad!quinn au into a masterlist <3 #quinn hughes #quinn x reader #dad!quinn #capquinn: dad!quinn

141 notes · View notes

chameliyun · 2 days ago

Text

Gonna put this under a cut because it's long and rambly and may or may not make sense lol

My Bible study group has been going through the book of Proverbs lately, and one thing you notice if you read through it is the theme that people who live good lives experience good rewards. And really, all outside factors aside, it makes sense. If you put good in, you get good out, in the simplest terms. But then you also have stuff like the book of Job, where he does everything right, like the book specifically says that he's well known as a righteous man, and he loses everything. His house, his wealth, his kids; and he gets horribly sick on top of it. So as much as it logically follows that doing good leads to good, it's also sometimes just not true.

The funny thing about Christians assuming that their lives are going to be good just because they follow Jesus is that He literally says that won't be true. "In this world you will have trouble" and "[you will be] persecuted for my name's sake" and probably other times I'm forgetting. It's not that there will never be any rewards in earthly life (He loves giving good gifts and blessings), but they shouldn't be the things to look forward to or use as a metric of whether we're living righteously. And they certainly shouldn't flip it around and start making assumptions that people are evil just because they're suffering, OR assume that they're good because they're successful.

The thing you said about "Jesus doesn't care if you're a good Christian" - you're kind of right. If you're saved, nothing can change that. The three parables (lost sheep, lost coin, prodigal son) are more about celebrating finding the one who's lost. But that doesn't mean that He just ignores the ones who are saved - He saves people because He loves them, and thanks to being God He doesn't have any limits on doing that for as many people as accept that love.

I think you're right that suffering is often just suffering (as in, it doesn't imply any moral judgment). But it's also not *just* suffering - it can reveal things about you, teach you things, give you tools to help others, etc. I believe that God's goal is to bring people to Himself, through whatever ways work for each person (and sometimes - or even often - don't make sense to us), and that often works best under pressure. And it's not like He didn't also suffer - that's why He can be there for us in our weakness and distress, because He's gone through it too.

One of the biggest eye-openers for me back when a I went to church was that like…

Oh man how do I explain it.

There’s this prevalent idea I see a lot in Christian circles that if you pray right, if you follow God correctly, if you’re a truly virtuous person, your problems will be solved, right?

If you suffer, if you fall ill, if bad things happen, it’s because you aren’t good enough. You don’t need medicine because if you’re worthy, if you’re faithful enough, God will reward you by healing you. Right?

But like. Discussing this with my mother, and travelling out east with our pastor… Jesus didn’t spend all his time with perfect, virtuous people. Jesus didn’t seek out and heal well-to-do, faithful, perfect Christians. In fact, there’s a specific story in which he straight up doesn’t travel out to heal a believer’s dying daughter, because she’s already “saved”. Her earthy death is okay because she’s going to heaven already.

And like… coming from our Pastor, who is one of the best guys I’ve ever met- there seems to be an ongoing, underlying message of, “Jesus doesn’t care about you if you’re a good Christian”. If you’re a good Christian, if you’re living a virtuous life on earth, then any suffering you experience is only temporary- your ETERNITY is secure. Jesus goes out of his way to meet with sinners and the unfaithful because those are the people whose souls are in danger.

So like. In that perspective, being good doesn’t make your life better, it’s just good for others and good for your soul. Praying and doing good probably won’t cure your cancer, but it may mean you don’t have to worry too much about your death.

And like. I dunno. I wouldn’t call myself a Christian, but I find myself thinking about that concept a lot

Does suffering mean you deserve a reward?

Is suffering proof that you’re unworthy?

Or is suffering just an unfortunate facet of life that doesn’t reflect on your worth, that you still have to deal with as best you can?

Maybe suffering is just suffering.

Maybe the bad things you experienced weren’t about you

And maybe you just gotta try your best and be kind anyways, so you can rest easy when you go

#gecko rambles #this is too complex for my brain at 3am but it's too late now i'm committed #feel free to ask me questions and i will answer them when i'm not running on 6 1/2 hours of sleep and recovering from sickness #haha look that's about suffering yay i'm topical #like an ointment #ok i'm oging to bed am too tired goodnight zzz

735 notes · View notes

sanguineterrain · 1 day ago

Text

the worst day of february | jason todd

Summary: Cold and defeated on the worst day of February, you stand on your apartment rooftop, contemplating giving up. Then the Red Hood drops in and makes you tea in your apartment.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings/tags: suicidal ideation, disordered eating and sleeping habits, depression, reader doesn't attempt suicide but thinks about it a lot. a sort of hopeful ending. jason being a really really good guy.

please take care of yourselves - don't read this if you think it'll upset you.

divider

One day in February—it doesn't matter which day; it might be someone else's day too, but it doesn't matter, and it doesn't matter which February either—you realize that you've forgotten how to be happy.

When you think of February, you don't think of much, except that on those big visual calendars of the months that they put up in kindergarten, February is always pink. Pink like an organ. Pink like guts. Pink like love.

But your February—all the Februarys you've had—is blue-gray. It's like someone's cast a moody shadow over your February. It's the director's choice, clearly, to light your February like you're at a wake. It's not your choice. It's never your choice.

Here is the problem. The problem is that you're too scared, but you want the attention of someone who's killed themselves. Shame digs its claws into you at such a perverse thought. But it's true. Even if it's one person who takes a moment to inspect your guts on the sidewalk, or your body in the bathtub, you want them to hold your rigor mortis and say, what a loss. Is there anything I can do?

And then you'd pop up from the bathwater and say, why yes, there is something you can do, would you mind changing the lighting? It's bringing me down.

You're on the roof of your apartment. You don't know why, because as stated, you're too scared. And it's nighttime, and you're a speck of dust, which is comforting at times and haunting at others. Dust on a roof. Easy to be carried off by the wind.

You don't want to die, exactly. You want to rest. No amount of sleep destroys the exhaustion. Instead of marrow in your bones, it's the desire for rest that only comes through death. Unfortunately, despite not wanting to die, death seems to be your only path.

His footsteps are quiet. You don't realize that you're not alone until he's there next to you, hunched over the ledge on his elbows.

You flinch.

"Sorry," Red Hood says, and there's no smoky breath that accompanies his words like they accompany everyone else's. You wonder where the air from his helmet's filter goes.

"It's fine," you say, even though your nervous system is still reeling. It's not fine, because you hate being scared, but it also doesn't matter, so it's fine in that way.

You have a great view from the city up here but appreciating the city is difficult when it's all blue-gray shadows. Your stomach hurts. You've never felt more unbearably yourself in your life.

"Everything okay?" Hood asks.

"Yeah," you say, not bothering to lie. Not bothering to tell the truth either.

"'S cold up here."

"I'm not gonna jump."

"Didn't say you would," Hood says mildly.

"That's why you're here. You think I'll jump, and it's your duty to make sure I don't. But I won't. Too scared. I just wallow instead."

"Wallowing ain't so good either."

"Yeah," you say, throat hurting like you've swallowed a splinter. "Probably not."

An audience would see your funeral-lit life and make the obvious prediction that something bad is about to happen. The director is telling a story, and he's giving hints. You, as the protagonist, are expecting bad things too. Perhaps this is where it starts.

"You live here?" Hood asks.

There should be a curl of fear that strikes you, because Red Hood—terrifying, gangster, born and bred Gotham Red Hood—shouldn't be landing on your rooftop and checking to make sure you aren't gonna spill your guts.

He doesn't seem so terrifying, though. He doesn't seem like a gangster either. And what's wrong with being born and bred Gotham? You like it. Hood is familiar even though you've never met him before. Something about his voice, his stance, the fact that he gives a shit enough to talk to you for a minute. It feels like maybe the universe doesn't want you to kill yourself right then.

"I live here," you say, taking too long to answer.

"Alright," he says. "Lead the way."

You look at him. He's turned around now, facing the roof access door.

"What?"

Hood points a thumb at the door. "Let's go to your place."

"Why?" Why, you ask, instead of the fuck?

"'M thirsty," he says.

Well, if he's here to assassinate you, it won't matter if you bring him to your apartment or not. And now that he's mentioned it, it is cold. Probably because you're up here without a coat. A coat hadn't seemed important when you were in your apartment choking on stale black air.

Maybe you should warn Hood about the stale black air. But you feel like he won't let you return to your apartment if you do.

Hood goes first, leading you back inside. He goes down the stairs slowly, letting you drag and set the pace. It's so stupid. You feel like crying. Why is he going down the stairs with you at your stupid slow pace?

You stop two floors down. This would be another hint to your audience, the fact that you're so close to the roof that you can just climb a couple flights.

You open your apartment. You'd left it unlocked.

"Do you often leave your place unlocked?" Hood asks.

You shrug. "I don't go out enough to get the chance."

Hood doesn't say anything else but he does do the deadbolt when you're inside, as well as the chain lock.

"Shoes off?" he asks. You nod. You both remove your shoes.

Then you stand like you're not in your own apartment. Hood herds you like a sheepdog to your tiny kitchen table. Then he starts opening cabinet doors.

"Got a kettle?" he asks.

You stare at the back of his helmet, your eyebrows knitting. "A kettle? How many Gothamites do you know own kettles?"

"It's the only dignified way to make tea," he says.

Maybe Hood isn't so born and bred Gotham. "Were you raised by British monarchs?"

"Kinda," he says. He evidently gives up on finding a kettle and instead puts water to boil on the stove, even though you have a microwave. Weirdo.

Suddenly, you realize you haven't thought about death for a whole five minutes.

"Got any decaffeinated tea?" Hood asks.

You have a barely opened box of Sleepytime. You point at the top shelf. He hums and retrieves the box, taking out three tea bags to drop into the boiling water.

Hood takes out two mugs. He's surprisingly apt at navigating an unfamiliar kitchen.

He gives you your mug and sits across from you at the table. He's huge at your table, but he gracefully crosses his legs despite the limited space.

"Didja eat?" he asks.

"I had some cereal a few hours ago," you say.

Hood nods. "Fine. But you gotta eat real dinner too."

You don't think it really matters what a corpse-in-training eats, but you nod anyway. Hood's tone invites no deliberation.

"What's your favorite food? Drink your tea."

You scrunch your face and take a hesitant sip. The hot liquid burns your tongue for a moment before you swallow.

"I like pizza," you say. "And burgers. And ramen. But lately, everything tastes like nothing."

You'd tried to find joy in food a few days ago because you couldn't find it anywhere else. You'd torn open a pack of Swedish Fish and shoved the box into your drawer after eating two pieces because it'd tasted like melted plastic to you.

Then you'd bought an expensive brand of chocolate bar, desperate to be happy, desperate to be flooded with dopamine. Nothing. You'd tossed the chocolate, feeling distinctly broken. What monster doesn't find joy in their favorite candy?

You only eat to cure the hunger pains, because you can't take anymore pain. You eat to survive. Not because you want to, but because dying by starvation takes too long.

"That's okay," Hood says. "'S good you're eating."

You scoff. "I don't need consolation."

Hood doesn't give you the satisfaction of an argument. He's going to make you feel alive in a gentler way, even though you don't deserve it. "Drink your tea."

You drink. His mug remains untouched. You feel like you're in a play. This isn't even real tea, it's just colored water. And Hood's stage direction is to not drink his colored water. It's just for show.

You look out the window, expecting to make eye contact with an audience member. You're waiting for the second act. You're waiting for the end.

"I don't want anymore," you say when your mug is half-finished. Trying to finish the tea feels like prolonging the inevitable. The audience wants to go home. They have lives to get back to. They can't live with you and the stage forever.

To your surprise, Hood nods. "Okay. C'mon."

He stands up from the table. You follow him to your bedroom. He pulls open your shirt drawer. You notice the two guns strapped to his hips, two strapped to his ankles, and one bigger gun on his back. You wait for the director's guidance on how you should feel. None comes, so you remain apathetic.

"Choose a shirt," he says. You pick a plain pink t-shirt. Hood closes that drawer and opens your pants drawer. "Choose."

You take a pair of worn pajama shorts because you overheat when you sleep, especially when you're depressed. You're sweaty from your lie-in till two that you took earlier today. Your face is greasy. You're sure your hair isn't nice either.

"Go change," Hood says, walking out of your room. "I'll be outside." He closes the door behind him.

You change, if only out of shock of the Red Hood giving you orders.

"Done," you say, probably too quiet for anyone to hear. But Hood comes in. He looks you over.

"Good." He points to the bed. "Lie down."

You do. Your sheets are gross. They haven't been changed in at least a few months. You're suddenly swollen with shame that anyone, even the Red Hood, is seeing you in this state. Your eyes fill with stinging tears. You should've died before it came to this.

"I'm sorry you had to stop to do this," you say.

Hood's silent for a moment. Then he walks to your side of the bed. He crouches down. His helmet eyes glow in the dark. You've never been less afraid.

This is a plot twist you did not foresee. A new character. A guardian angel. Red in your blue-gray.

"'S not always gonna feel like this," he says.

More tears, more splinters in your throat. "It's felt like this for so long."

"Yeah," he says gently. Gentler than you fucking deserve. "I know."

The writer has overridden the director's wants, and has introduced some new foreshadowing. Should your audience believe it? Or is this a fake-out?

You lie back and want to die a little less. One young woman in your audience chokes up. She believes that you believe you’ll live. She will stay here for as long as it takes for you to make it through act two.

"If you have to go, it's okay," you say.

Hood settles against the wall near your bed. He pulls one knee against his chest. It's almost like you have a friend.

"Nah," he says. "I don't have anywhere to be. I finished my patrol. I'll stay till you fall asleep."

He doesn't ask to stay, and that feels good, not having to make the choice, to face the shame of wanting another person to care about you.

You screw your eyes shut. "Thank you," you whisper.

"I'm gonna bring you a kettle," Hood says.

You laugh. It's small and brittle but it's real. "Okay." You'll have to make it through the night. Red Hood is bringing you a kettle.

You lay there for a long time, not sleeping. You keep your eyes closed. You focus on keeping your breathing even. Then you open your eyes to check.

Hood is still there, sitting against the wall. You wonder if he's fallen asleep too. His voice startles you.

"Still here," he says. "Said I wouldn't go till you sleep. Meant it. Don't worry."

Maybe tomorrow's sun won't be so blue or gray. You fall asleep.

#Jason Todd x reader #Jason Todd x you #red Hood x reader #batman fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #jason todd fanfiction #Jason Todd x yn #Jason Todd x gn reader #Jason Todd imagine #angst #hurt comfort #sad imagine #red Hood x you

106 notes · View notes

hitlikehammers · 2 days ago

Text

SOMETIMES: you just can’t say the words ♥️❓💕

(but that doesn’t mean they’re any less true💖)

But, like, it’s always that. The same dude delivers the pizza, expects Steve to have the cash out and tell him to keep the change—whether Eddie’s slipped a ten inside earlier or not; Steve’s given up fighting him on it because he understands he got a government payout, too, and he also has some small shred of pride left, even if that’s not really why he does it. He does it more for…reasons far too humiliating, and vulnerable, and worse-still too tender, too fucking domestic, to own to in real words and cogent enough to appropriately or accurately imply his…deeper and-or larger feelings on the matter. So. Steve lets him get away with it, and just sometimes smiles at the bills, sometimes rolls his eyes, and it feels… Ways that Eddie’s doesn’t put words to. He just explained that, Jesus H.

rating: t ♥️ tags: post-s4, friends-to-✨more✨, softness, feelings reveal, you don’t always need words to know that it’s love, fluff, slice of life, cuddling, casual intimacy, hint of angst (in eddie’s head and eddie’s head alone), smitten boys, pining over pizza 🍕 , prime date night, happy ending♥️

for @steddielovemonth day fourteen: "Come sleep with me: We won't make Love, Love will make us.” ―Julio Cortázar

Steve’s at the door, paying for the pizza: one classic pep-n-sausage, one supreme, and one half-meat lovers, half-Hawaiian—not because they disagree about toppings—they actually agree too perfectly, and that that culinary heathen Argyle can never know his outrageous suggestion was taken on board; they cannot risk any stray leftovers giving them away, just in case.

He does it more for…reasons far too humiliating, and vulnerable, and worse-still too tender, too fucking domestic, to own to in real words and cogent enough to appropriately or accurately imply his…deeper and-or larger feelings on the matter. So.

Steve lets him get away with it, and just sometimes smiles at the bills, sometimes rolls his eyes, and it feels…

Ways that Eddie’s doesn’t put words to. He just explained that, Jesus H.

Can’t be a fucking surprise by this point. At least not to Eddie.

But that’s the thing, isn’t it. They have a routine. They have a, a…this is a standing engagement. Like a meeting marked on a calendar, save that they don’t have to mark it down or call to confirm: it just happens. They just know.

And Eddie sees the Party is various combinations throughout the week—more and more as his rehab is actually starting to make progress, as he’s lasting longer off the couch and even sometimes outside the house entirely, might even get behind the wheel again all on his own within the month. But by Friday, he’s more than spent. He’s gotta take the breather, still, and Steve sees it. Never says so.

But makes sure Eddie’s comfortable on his own motherfucking couch with the most scintillating new release Family Video has to offer, and their regular pizza order already on the way.

Steve always comes to him. Every fucking Friday, when he knows Eddie’s still not, maybe never willprefer being entirely alone ever again, and knows just as sure that Eddie can’t be anywhere but here.

So Steve is…always here.

Eddie doesn’t know what prods him to open his mouth about it now, of all possible times; doesn’t know what prompts the thoughts themselves to weave into words at all.

But as soon as they’re out, he knows that he means them. Which means they’ve been living under the surface, festering in wait, longer than he probably could have known.

“Don’t you ever get sick of this?”

It’s such a fucking sigh that stream from Eddie’s lips on the question, too. Self-pitying. But also a little bit of an accusation, like: why the fuck is Steve even still here, when anywhere else would be infinitely preferable?

Steve turns toward him, slice of pizza hanging from his mouth. He’s…he’s fucking beautiful.

How he’s fucking beautiful with a mushroom falling from between his teeth is beyond Eddie, but fuck all: it’s the god’s-honest truth.

But Steve takes a proper bite and puts the other half of the slice back in the box because of course they don’t bother with plates, and finishes chewing what he’s got on this tongue with an extra layer of thoughtfulness; takes an extra batch of seconds before he swallows. Weighs his wine words carefully when they come:

“What do you mean?”

It’s not evasive. It’s not even trying to force the ball back into Eddie’s hands. It’s…Eddie can tell Steve has different answers, depending on how Eddie responds.

So he decides to weigh his next words extra-careful, too.

“Just like, this, man. Same ol’, same ol’.”

It’s not what he wants to say, he knows that as soon as it’s put out there to be heard. But he doesn’t know if he actually knows what he wants to say, or ask, let alone how. He gestures at the room around them, winces at the tightness it tests up his left side—hopes maybe Steve will get some inspiration and find his words for him.

Like he’s found so much of Eddie these past months, pieced him back together when he was sure in the beginning he’d never be whole again.

“Sick of seeing you hurt this bad?” is what Steve comes up with, and…no, that’s not what Eddie was going for, but he’s gonna let it ride because it tingles like a sparkler in the Center of his chest.

“Of course,” and Steve says it as straight and definitive as Eddie thinks those words can be said by anyone, for anything; the way he figures maybe they were made to be said when words started in the first place.

Then Steve leans in, and Eddie…this is just how it always is, right? They do this every week. Almost exactly the same.

Steve doesn’t have to lean far to be close enough for Eddie to feel the breath of him, and swear to fuck, Eddie never realized they sat quite this close for the movies, crowded around the pizza. Knew their legs touched but…not this much.

Close to…tangled, almost. Fuck.

Eddies heart trips a solid five times before it remembers it ever knew a rhythm.

“But I’m never of being here to at least try to make it ache that little bit less,” and Steve’s hand lands soft on eddies thigh, and fuck, eddies breath les catches, more than just fuckin’ stops—steve reads it the wrong way, pulls back and grimaces from the heart, has the gorgeous audacity to say, all apologetic, and with feeling:

“Even when I can’t.”

Eddie does kind of suspect a lack of being useful is one of Steve Harrington’s biggest fears in life. But this…even just the sound of this lands different.

“No, no,” Eddie tries to sort out his thoughts, shake his head enough to clear it but not amp up a headache, something Steve’s taught him to be particularly attentive to that shit; “I mean, like,” and he huffs, closer to growls than anything more civilized.

“Can’t keep my shit together,” Eddie bursts out with, apparently finding the shape of the thing that’s been festering, surprising himself with it a little, but not…much.

Not really.

“Months later, almost a fucking year,” he spits, disgusted now that he’s unearthed the core of it, “and you,” he turns to Steve, still Leaned so goddamn close—

“It’s prime date night,” every Friday; “and you’re always here,” on prime date night, wasting his chances, wasting his time, wasting everything on—

“I’m ruining it,” Eddie realizes, heart in his throat plummeting to his fucking stomach, appalled as he sees it all in the light of this new obvious truth, this truth that once Steve sees it too he’ll leave, and what if he doesn’t come back at all because eddies been hogging him without even meaning too, just been to selfish and wrapped up in his own bullshit, and he’s—

“I’m ruining you,” Eddie’s voice cracks, fucking appalled, goddamn devastated—and it’s not courage or anything, that lets Eddie reach out and fit his sometimes-shaky palm to Steve’s cheek and hold him there; it’s not some brave declaration of the way he wants things he still can’t name.

And the man he’s feels the unnamable thing for? He’s fucking taking up all his time, monopolizing his light, taking him away from the future he was talking through when he thought he was gonna fucking die, driving a goddamn RV, Eddie is a horrible fucking…worm, a pathetic excuse for a person, he is ruining—

“Kinda.”

Eddie feels everything in him somehow…tense and start to disintegrate at the same time because…he knew it was true, but Steve, Steve’s agreeing—

“You’re kinda ruining me for anyone else.”

And Eddie blinks, blinks some more: because Steve sounds…happy.

Like…punch drunk.

Eddie chances breaking his heart for the thing he can’t name, and turns the little bit to took and—

Oh.

Oh, that smile. Steve’s smile.

At him.

It’s lazy sunlight. It’s syrup slow and sweet. It’s quiet and it’s comfortable and he’s only looking at Eddie. Not the TV. Not the pizza. Not the kitchen where the sink drips a little in the background but Eddie can’t hear it over the thump of his rabbit heart.

Just him. Like he’s…worth it.

Worth…being ruined. Like he’s—

“You’re ruining me for anything that isn’t this,” Steve says low, because he is brave, and maybe he can’t say the thing either but he can talk closer near it, like a hand pushed through Eddie’s ribs to calm his pulse and call it worth something.

Maybe worth a lot of somethings, even. Possibly, impossibly, even, worth everyth—

“That isn’t this, with you,” Steve breathes, and he looks like he thinks about leaning in that little bit more, like he was really thinking about pressing lips too eddies hair, his temple, maybe lower, maybe set to ruin him because Eddie feels a little ruined already, because Steve hadn’t meant ruined the Eddie was so fearing, so sure of; he was talking about something that rang out a key that echoes in his ribs like the thing he can’t name—

Steve doesn’t press lips to Eddie’s skin, though. Eddie tries not to be disappointed.

Steve stretches out across the couch instead, though, and props his legs up on the arm opposite where Eddie sits, socked feet crossed as he settles his head in Eddie’s lap.

He’s never done that before. Eddie’s heart takes a fucking flying leap when Steve’s lashes flutter and he looks up and Eddie like he’s exactly—somehow exactlywhat Steve wants for the ruination, as much as the ruining.

He grins up at him a little, and presses a little extra close to Eddie’s crotch as he shifts to reach his abandoned half-a-pizza-slice.

Eddie watches, transfixed. Enraptured.

His heart hasn’t even landed from the fucking leaping yet, while Steve’s biting and the tip of his pizza, the pouty part of the triangle, getting sauce at the corner of those lips—

“This feels like,” Steve talks with his mouth full; “like I always imagined home would feel like.”

He finishes the slice and chews while he settles his head closer to Eddie, and…and that’s where Eddie’s heart lands, settles too: down half in his stomach again, tapping frantic, close to Steve, closer closer closer—

And Steve just leans in.

And Eddie is…ruined.

How the fuck did he forget that word could mean something this…this.

Steve finally does press his lips to something; Eddie’s wrist when he reaches for his own slice of pizza, when he thinks his pulse is calm enough that he can swallow right.

Then Steve grabs it, pauses it in midair, tilts his head around the crust and just…kisses that heartbeat right up to making it difficult to breathe.

“Home,” he sighs a little, then looks up at Eddie again, wipes his lip off with his thumb and sucks the stray sauce off as he turns to the television with a hum as he exhales:

“That’s you.”

And Steve Harrington, spends prime date night at Eddie Munson’s house. Every week. Orders pizza: same place, same pies.

And the thing that Eddie couldn’t find a name for suddenly’s the only word his blood knows how to beat, and it’s not even scary that Steve has to hear it, pressed so close.

Because Steve is pressed that close.

And on prime date night—every prime date night—apparently?

Steve Harrington happily comes home.

To him.

♥️🖤♥️

✨also on ao3

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @allmyfavoritethingsinoneblog @anthrobrat @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here

divider credit here

55 notes · View notes

cherrycheolkat · 18 hours ago

Text

• no blueberries, feat. mingyu, pt. 1 •

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader

word count: 4.1K

genre: fake dating, college au, college student!mingyu, college student!reader, fluff, f2l, idiots, idiots in love, angst, pining, denial of feelings

summary: mingyu was just your lab partner and study buddy for several semesters, but lately things seem to have changed, and maybe everyone else has noticed, but for the most part, neither of you even think about what you are to one another until mingyu asks you to be his 'fake' date for a long weekend trip so he can avoid an ex, the biggest problem is realizing that there's nothing fake about your relationship but when mingyu won't even talk about what you are to each other, you start to think things might be over before they even really start

warnings: explicit language, mentions of anxiety, sexually suggestive situations, drinking

a/n: they are literally idiots in love but they're so dumb they almost don't deserve a happy ending - i am screaming at them ;-;

♡ if you would like to be tagged in my upcoming posts, go [here]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

“please, y/n,” he was definitely begging now.

she rolled her eyes, “dude, she’s your ex - you’re over her, just go and be normal, okay?” she was a bit annoyed at this point because he was over her, wasn't he, she wondered.

he whined softly, “seriously, just come with me, pretend you’re into me for like four days - i can’t deal with her, you know, alone,” she watched him stare at his textbook, looking fully embarrassed.

she blinked quickly wondering how she was the friend being enlisted for this - to her they were mainly lab partners and study buddies. she had no clue how he had decided they were close enough to even bring this idea up. but she did feel bad. even as lab partners, she knew his ex was genuinely horrible, as in her entire personality was “gaslight, gate keep, girl boss” - as though those were positive things no less.

she sighed, “i thought it was kind of a couples thing? since almost everyone is part of a couple,” she trailed off.

he nodded, “yeah, it is, but she’s going alone - she told someone her whole goal is to fuck me one more time,” he mumbled the last part, blushing hard, “apparently, she ‘misses’ that,” he rolled his eyes, looking miserable.

even she was shocked to hear that. it was certainly a new low.

“that’s - that’s really shitty,” she sighed, not knowing what else to say.

she watched him nod, still staring at his textbook, thumbing the edges of the page. she bit her lip gently, “can i think about it for a bit?”

he nodded, glancing up at her. she couldn’t help but notice how glossy his eyes looked - she worried he was on the verge of crying. she wasn’t equipped to deal with a crying mingyu. happy? sure. drunk? yes. whiny and ridiculous? no problem.

but to see him on the verge of tearing up because he was worried or stressed or whatever, that was beyond her friendship scope. but to be fair, fake dating probably was too. even if she knew some people did mistake them for a couple. that really wasn’t the point.

the point was the longer they sat there fake studying, she knew what she was going to do. she couldn’t sit back while he went off to a terrible trip to the lake where he might be the target of his ex’s sexcapades. she knew he hadn’t dated since her, which would just be a point againts him - she could easily imagine, ‘oh baby, you haven’t even tried since me?’ - gross, she thought. besides, if he were gone for the break, she wasn’t really sure what she would do anyway.

the standard was for them to study friday afternoon, and then they would usually met up at a party or something and would duck out for food when either of them got bored and go back to y/n's to watch tv and pass out. saturday was fairly similar, but sunday was more like study, and then they kind of always ordered food and watched tv or something. sometimes he slept on the couch - something her roommate would roll her eyes at whenever possible, espeically since ‘sometimes’ seemed to translate to almost every sunday.

she had finally told him to just bring clothes so he would't be late for monday morning practices anymore. her roommate had wondered loudly why mingyu didn't just move into y/n's room and get a tiny corner of the closet already. she had ignored that unnecessary commentary.

she groaned inwardly, “okay, fine - i’ll go with you, but you owe me,” you whispered.

he glanced up, “really?”

she ignored that he sounded a little too happy and nodded, “yes, if it means you can avoid her insanity for the long weekend,” she tried to feel confident about the decision.

luckily, she knew there was nothing between them. they’re only lab partners and maybe friends, at best, she tried to assure herself and ignore every other thought she had.

⋆˙⟡

she truly hated packing for anything, and this trip was no exception. the only slight difference was mingyu hanging out on her bed while she packed this time. she wasn’t sure if he was nervous or what, but he kept shifting around on her bed - it reminded her of a puppy rolling around in the hope that someone would rub its stomach. she tried not to laugh at the mental image of him rolling around in search of belly rubs. instead, she tried to focus on what to pack.

it was still warm enough to go swimming, despite the fact that it was ‘fall’ break, so she tried to decide on swimsuits. ultimately, she just packed them all - they were basically underwear anyway, she reasoned.

“are we sharing a room?”

“yeah, you know, since we’re together and ‘finally admitting it’ - is that really what jeonghan said?” he asked. he had been annoyed about that response for at least two hours.

“i literally showed you his text,” she mumbled as she hunted for friends-who-are-fake-dating appropriate sleepwear, aka her most oversized tshirts, sleep shorts that were as un-sexy as possible, and a few sweatshirts in case it was cold.

he sighed, “okay, but that’s such a flippant answer,” he complained.

she snorted, “‘flippant’?”

“yes!”

she grinned, wondering when he started using words like ‘flippant’ in normal conversations. mingyu was one of those guys who she hadn’t taken seriously when she first met him - he was fun at parties, but when he wanted to study together, she had been seriously skeptical. but then she saw their first exam grades post and realized how well he had ranked. she had wondered if it was just his personality or if he actively worked to hide the fact that he was that smart.

it hadn’t really mattered though since they had been studying together since then. something she distinctly remembered being an issue for his ex - katie had genuinely hated y/n and wasn’t quiet about it. it was maybe the only time she had seen mingyu fully lose his mind over something - she had never heard the words ‘get fucked’ said quiet so intensely, especially since that they were sitting in the library at the time.

she sighed, “don’t you think it might be a little obvious for us to show up together?”

“not really - she always said we had some weird thing, so why not let her be right,” his voice was concerningly normal.

she had been thinking about the fact that it was kind of a petty move. actually, there were loads of reasons she could think of for not going, including almost every scenario from a horror movie - she was not discounting serial killers in masks waiting in the woods. but her main concern was being confronted by katie - it just felt like a needlessly stressful way to spend her fall break.

“okay, but i mean, you couldn’t think of anyone else?"

he sighed, “like who? i hang out with you, i go out with you - you make sense,” his voice was soft, but he still sounded just a little disappointed that she was asking him…again.

she rolled her eyes, “we could just hang out like normal and avoid this.”

she glanced at him, watching him mull over what she had said and not for the first time either. to be fair, her anxiety was only growing. she left him to go pretend to be discerning about how much of her skincare she was packing, even though she was blindly grabbing everything from her counter. when she walked back into her room, he was sitting up.

“even if she’s there, the trip is just to have fun and not be on campus - you know, a break at joshua’s nice lake house,” he didn’t look at her as he explained.

she stared for a moment and turned back to her already exploding suitcase, “you only asked me because of her,” she felt like it was very obvious why she was going, but she heard him mumble something, which she ignored. instead, she violently jammed her clothes and toiletries into her bag.

she absolutely hated that knowing katie would be there made her feel a tiny bit competitive - she had purposefully picked all of her smallest swimsuits - she had even gone to get waxed for this, something she definitely would never admit to anyone. she had even dragged out her status luggage bag - the one her step-mom had given her two christmases ago that made her cringe. there was also the little, tiny mean voice in the back of her mind that had always thought katie had never been good enough for mingyu anyway - she wasn’t especially cute, and her voice drove y/n up the walls - not to mention she was kind of dumb and objectively sucked at beer pong. y/n would also never admit that she used to play them on purpose just to beat them because she was good at beer pong.

she jumped when mingyu touched her arm, “fuck, what?”

she hadn’t even noticed that he was lying on his side, watching her jam everything into her bag.

“you don’t have to go,” he whispered.

she swooped all of her hair off her shoulders in annoyance, mostly because there was something about the way he whispered, with this weird tenderness, that made her feel way too quivery. it wasn’t fair because she knew she never affected him like that. she just shook her head. she was totally fine with everything. plus, she didn’t believe him for a moment that she could just stay. she knew in her gut that she had moved something in their friendship past a boundary that she hadn’t even noticed, and now, she couldn’t just take it back without suffering the consequences.

⋆˙⟡

she was glad she was driving. she could at least focus on the road, plus they were the ones tasked with stopping at the liquor store, so she only had to deal with mingyu and seungcheol - she only wondered briefly why no one cared that seungcheol was solo for the long weekend. actually, it only annoyed her slightly that mingyu had left that fact out - she knew he could have spent the entire break with seungcheol, no problem, which only made her wonder why he really asked her. worse was her wondering why it seemed to matter that mingyu sounded disappointed at the idea of her not going, accepting but unhappy - not like he had been when she said ‘yes’.

she walked through the store, mainly looking for the things she wanted. her ideal party weekend was starting her day off with something bubbly and moving on to liquor by lunch. she wasn’t really paying attention to the cases of beer, tequila, and vodka mingyu and seungcheol were collecting. instead, she was in line to pay for her stuff and some edible gummy candies she noticed last minute - she grabbed several of those. she could’ve kicked herself for not asking her roommate’s girlfriend for some weed before she left. she waited next to her car for them to come out, answering a few texts. she ignored the ones from mingyu. she couldn’t help that she was from a family of people who completely avoided their emotions, plus she could see the message preview - it wasn’t anything life-changing.

when they came out, she wasn’t super shocked by the very full cart or the fact that they practically filled the back of her suv - they had to move their bags into the seat with seungcheol. it was like half the soccer team, their girlfriends, and friends for five nights, after all. the team wasn’t known for holding back at any of their parties - the rule was ‘no empties.’ she could only hope that the people getting food were grabbing enough to balance everything out.

the rest of the drive was uneventful. it was pretty though - even if it still looked like summer and not a bit like fall.

the house was a massive hunk of glass overlooking the lake. everything was very modern and sleek inside. she had been imagining something a little more cozy, less brutal. but that didn’t really matter, especially when they started divvying up the rooms - she and mingyu had a room that shared a bathroom with seungcheol’s room. and it hit her immediatly, mingyu was staying in seungcheol’s room. she wasn’t sure why it annoyed her, but it did, especially when she planned to be sharing a room with him.

she starfished out on the bed - her bed - and decided she would probably go home the next day. there was literally no reason for her to be here, and there probably never had been. also, sharing the bathroom with two whole ass guys just sounded miserable. she sat up after a few moments of moping, remembering the edibles she had - she ate three and dropped back onto the bed. she wasn’t planning on coming out of her room. mingyu could get fucked, she decided.

it was seungcheol who was leaning over when she woke up with a yelp, “what the fuck?” her heart was pounding.

he laughed, “sorry, mingyu wondered if you were okay, so i came to check,” he raised an eyebrow, “you seem alive, though,” he concluded.

she rolled her eyes, “thanks for the astute diagnosis, dr. choi,” she murmured and fell back onto the bed.

he laughed, “seriously though, you good?”

she exhaled loudly, “is he like standing in the bathroom or something?”

seungcheol shook his head.

“liar,” she groaned and rolled over, “i’m going home in the morning, so he can stop feeling whatever way he’s feeling.”

seungcheol looked surprised, “you’re just heading back? isn’t this like the first time you’ve like been somewhere together?”

she shrugged, “and?” your annoyance was definitely coming through, loud and clear.

seungcheol nodded, “right, you two have weird vibes, but look, i need him out of my room - my date is here, and i actually want to spend time with her.”

she could only roll her eyes, “so four people and one bathroom - this is only getting better,” she sighed, “i should just go home now.”

seungcheol shrugged, “whatever, just say it’s okay for him to come in here, so he stops whining in my room - it’s seriously killing my mood.”

“okay, whatever, i don’t care.”

this was truly going downhill as far as she was concerned. and why would mingyu be whining to seungcheol anyway, she wondered. she heard him come into the room, but she didn’t move. even when he sat on the bed, she stayed still.

“are you really leaving?”

she pressed her lips together, thinking, “probably not, but seriously, why did you even ask me?”

she had maybe run out of whatever annoyance she had felt before at being woken up out of nowhere, plus her edibles were wearing off. she sat up so she was next to him, “just tell me what this is - like i’m a buffer, right? but you didn’t tell anyone that i was just coming along, you told them we’re dating, and that comes with like expectations,” she trailed off.

“since when do you care about expectations?”

she wondered if smacking him would be too strong of a reaction.

this was all such a bad idea. she was going to have a shit weekend and probably lose her friend in the process.

⋆˙⟡

the rest of the night was uneventful, with everyone filtering in and no one eating at the same time. she grabbed food and something to drink and mostly avoided conversation, especially if it had to do with her and mingyu.

she also decided if she pretended this was like a retreat, she could just focus on swimming and hiking since, according to her phone, there were some great trails around. and obeying her fake retreat rules, she grabbed some extra water and headed to bed early - she needed to sleep if she was going to go for a sunrise swim. she was glad that she brought a sleep mask and ear plugs.

her only problem was mingyu’s texts. he hadn’t answered her question about why he asked her or explained why he went nuclear and told everyone they were dating. she had thoughts on what was going on, but she was as bad as he was. even lying in bed, in her not sexy at all clothes, her brain was in overdrive thinking about him in ways she didn’t want to be, especially since her phone kept going off. she knew he was thinking about her, even if it was this pretend, fake way - it didn’t matter. she pulled her pillow over her head to try to drown out the telltale buzzing. she refused to check her phone.

even when she finally heard the sounds of people going to bed. she cringed at the idea of seungcheol fucking. her gut reaction was that man would be loud.

she heard the footsteps outside their door, “come on mingyu - baby, just come to my room - you know you want to,” she sat up, knowing the voice immediately.

“no, i told you i’m not” — she heard the sudden wet sounds of a kiss.

“fuck, katie, stop - what are you not hearing?” she could hear the edge in his voice.

she sighed, she was technically there to help him avoid this kind of thing. she got out of bed and pulled off her sleep shorts, so she was clearly down to just her panties and tshirt, and tossed her sleep mask.

she walked to the door and opened it slowly, “gyu?” she made sure sleep was thick in her voice, as she pouted up at him adn tugged his shirt sleeve, “come to bed,” she whispered, biting her lower lip gently.

she didn’t even look at katie, just him.

he looked at her, “hey, baby,” he didn’t miss a beat, pulling away from katie as fast as he could and walking into their room after her, closing and locking the door.

she walked back over to the bed and flopped back onto the soft mattress, “helpful enough?” she asked.

the low light from outside was enough for her to see him nod, “sorry we woke you up,” his voice was soft.

she shook her head, “it’s fine, just come to bed - i want to swim in the morning,” she was already happily back under the duvet.

he was gone long enough for her to doze, but she opened her eyes when she heard him, “do you literally mean come to bed?”

she turned over and threw the covers back and patted the spot next to her. he still looked uncertain. she sighed and moved so she was on her knees - she grabbed his hand, “how much more of an invitation do you need?”

“you didn’t even check my messages,” his voice was so small - he sounded hurt.

she tried to find some answer in the way he was looking at her. but there was nothing besides the fact that she had hurt his feelings. ignoring him was the only thing she knew genuinely drove him nuts - he had told her when they were strictly lab partners how much he hated it - how much it annoyed him. she rarely ignored him. but she had tonight, mainly because her own thoughts were kind of fucked, seeing his stream of conciousness texts would have made it worse.

“so let me apologize,” she whispered, pulling his hand gently - it wasn’t lost on her that he was just in his underwear.

he let her pull him into bed, and she straddled him, reaching down to smooth his hair back from his face, “what hurts, baby?”

he touched his lips - she nodded, leaning down to kiss him softly. she held his jaw gently and kissed him slowly. she moaned faintly when she felt his hands ghost along her lower back and under her shirt. his hands were so warm, she shivered. she deepened their kiss, tracing her fingers through his hair as she did, loving how soft his hair was. they stayed that way, making out like it was the only thing in the world that mattered. even when she felt one of his hands slide down over the curve of her ass to trace his fingers under the hem of her panties, she didn’t break the kiss. she wasn’t worried about where his hands might wander. there were only so many things he could touch.

when she finally pulled away to breathe, she still played with his hair, “so, tell me what we’re doing, mingyu - so we both know, please.”

she could feel his hands on the backs of her thighs - he squeezed her thighs lightly, “what we do every weekend, y/n,” his voice was low.

she bit her lip softly, thinking about the weekend before, letting all her memories bubble to the top. her favorite part was the way he had held her back against his chest, leaning down to kiss her while he fucked her from below.

she shook her head gently, “just say it - tell me the way you told everyone else,” she murmured.

she waited for anything besides silence before sitting up and shaking her head. she moved to her side of the bed. she didn’t understand how they had gone so fluidly from one thing to another without really talking about it at all. but then again, that was maybe exactly how it happened - they hadn’t called it anything - it was just what they did. and she hadn’t cared about what it was anymore than he had until he brought it up - until he told people what they were. but somehow, that was the fake part - actually calling it a relationship wasn’t real, even though they had clearly been more than friends or anything else for months.

⋆˙⟡

she went to sleep purely for spite. and when she woke up with her alarm, she slipped out of bed, grabbed her swimsuit and went to change. it was when she walked out of the bathroom and by the bed that she felt him grab her hand gently, “are you really going out?”

she nodded, “yeah, why shouldn’t i do the stuff i want?”

“i didn’t say you shouldn’t,” he let go of her, sighing as he shifted around under the duvet.

she didn’t repsond, instead, she just grabbed her stuff and went quietly through the house and out the back. she walked along the dock, pausing at the end for a moment before jumping into the cool waters. even when she surfaced, she couldn’t get him out of her mind. she floated, thinking about the fact that whatever they were was only nameless when they were alone. she laughed to herself.

she got out when she started to feel chilly. she dried off and walked back to the house. she poked around the kitchen to find something for breakfast and some ice - she had kept her own drinks in their room, knowing they would be gone otherwise.

she went back to their room, bypassing the bed in favor of going onto the balcony they had. she hadn’t looked at it the night before. she only went back in to grab a bottle of champagne. she popped the cork, not really caring that it wasn’t chilled yet. she sipped it before sticking the bottle in the ice she had gotten. she ate fruit and some leftover steak she had found in the fridge. she scrolled through her socials.

a few of her friends had messaged to ask if she were really dating mingyu - her blanket response was easy, ‘no.’

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

a/n: told you they are dumb af

♡ kat

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

tag list: @syluslittlecrows

if you want to be tagged, go [here] my [master list] if you want to read more

#svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu x reader #mingyu angst #kim mingyu angst #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x you #mingyu fic #svt angst #kim mingyu smut #mingyu smut #seventeen fanfic #kim mingyu fanfic #mingyu fanfic #seventeen x reader

83 notes · View notes

pinescent-and-gingerbread · 2 days ago

Text

Zae!!!!! (you know me, this is going to be long lmaooo)

That was so incredibly hot I'm not even kidding. I have so many things to say and it still won't do justice to how incredible reading Evanescence was.

First of all, I want to say just how funny that cut was between the woman from Doyle's Tavern insulting him and asking for money in exchange for information to Arthur walking out with said info, all his money and a ban from the Tavern?? Idk it just made me laugh out loud for real 😂. Alright, now more serioulsy—

"Instinct lured him to the debauched inn, and your name frothed from his muzzle in more of a growl than speech. Like a rabid dog, he snapped and barked orders at the women unlucky enough to be trapped with the beast on the arena floor."

Looove that section and the paragraph after. Fellow figurative lovers, we are spoiled. And Jesus am I completely insane for finding the whole thing even hotter with a bestial, animalistic Arthur like this? Perfect comparison.

And the whole ring part! Their entire relationship is SO well written and so well balanced. You had shared your doubts with me about how to write an LH, but my GOD, this was absolutely perfect. GIVE YOURSELF MORE CREDIT I'M BEGGING YOU!!

His intrinsic violence, his possessiveness that dominates him in spite of himself is so in character, and YET, we love it, we love him, just as always.

I so love all the nuances you described in both him and the Reader. She's aware of the problems in their relationship and wants to fight him; she refuses to make things easy for him and give him what he wants. She loves him and hates him so much at the same time... And Arthur, all his impulsiveness, his brutality make us think he's looking for control at all costs; in the end, it's just the only way he can react to the fact that it's him who's completely in love with her and under her thumb. Brilliant. The dialogue in this part is really perfect, with Arthur repeating the “Yours” more and more surely. *sighs*

“You don’t own me, Arthur Morgan!” But the shouting was no use. He closed in on you again, and you reached out, clenching your fists in his shirt to stop his advance. If he noticed, he didn’t let on, talking with a tight jaw. “No, dammit, cause you own me.”

And the wild kiss right after! The whole prey and predator game, so so good. You know I'm suuuuch a sucker for these kinds of comparisons. And the way they're fighting each other but getting closer at the same time... So, so erotic.

And EXCUSEEEE ME, Reader insulting him as they succomb to it? I am so into this. God it made my body feel all sorts of ways 🥵🔥

He knew you were dancing dangerously close to the cliff’s overhang by the way you were keeping him in place, right where you wanted him. But the brute stopped and locked eyes with you, lips curved downward. That slight glimpse of vulnerability you thought you’d seen earlier was now on full display. “Say you won’t go,” he choked out. Down on his knees, looking up at you with genuine sincerity was the closest he’d ever get to prayer or penance. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat but didn’t answer him.

Oh. My. Lord. I could DIE from this simple vision. This is just incredibly hot and so good to read; I wasn't expecting him to actually be the dominated one here. (Big boys just want to be taken care of, don't they?🤭😉)

And Jesus, how do you achieve that Zae? Because the part after was even better!!! Honestly, I was already choking here, and then that:

“No good, thieving, murderous bastard.” “I know.” He drew out, tightly clutching the sheets. With a firm nudge, you urged him onto his back. “You don’t deserve me. Never did,” you continued. His hips jutted in time with your wrist, his climax sitting low in his balls. “I–dammit–I–kn–know.” The muscles of his stomach constricted as he fought for breath, damn near suffocating under your touch. “I’ll change.” He gasped, eyes closed, and brow furrowed. “I’ll change. But–ahh–I ain’t ever gonna be good enough for you, woman–nghh–no matter how much changin’ I do.”

I AM DEAD!!!! I loved this part so much I think I read it four times already!!! I mean come on guys, the dialogue, every word sounds so fcking good, perfectly transcribing his voice, making him spit out he's indeed too bad for her, and her stroking him like this, him babbling that he'll change? I'm getting all excited again just talking about it 🫠 This is definitely one of my favorite fic moments, ever.

And of course, as always, the grandiose climax, with once again the predator comparison but with HER as a lioness???? ZAE MARRY ME. This was absolute perfection. And even better, the second echo with him finishing inside, while she asserts "Yours". I just can't with that level of perfection, of masterfulness. This is mind-blowing, Zae. You really made me lose my mind with this one.

The last words also struck me; they are so relevantly bitter-sweet. An ideal ending for this nuanced relationship. You're forever inspiring me.

To conclude, one of my new favorites of yours (yes I knoooow every new one is becoming one of my favorites of yours, but hell I'm just a girl and you're still so incredibly talented!). I'm left in awe of your talent, every time, and here especially with such a subtle LH Arthur. Please, be proud, because you really did him justice. Bravo, bravo, bravo.

Love u! -Your loyal Piney 💞

Evanesce

Summary: You try to runway. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!reader Word count: 3,673 Tags: angst, smut, mid-low honor Arthur, handjob, unprotected p in v, oral, breeding kink, tb? Don’t know her. Warnings: 18+ MDNI, toxic relationship

An: I feel like I ran a never ending marathon with this one. Drafted it a month ago, but I never really vibed with it. Challenged myself to just get it done and make sure I was proud of it. Once again, I'm trying to step out of my comfort zone. Shout out to @googoolies for the note idea! As always, I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!

Tagging @hihomeghere because you asked ❤️

Evanesce: to dissipate like vapor

Worn floorboards of Shady Bell wailed under Arthur’s weight as songbirds began their morning melodies. The gunslinger scoped the eerily empty, quiet camp for traces of you, but all he found was a folded letter on his pillow.

Echoes of your last conversation flashed in his mind as he tramped across the narrow room to retrieve the note. Two nights ago, The Old Guard overlooked their kingdom from the second-floor balcony as they discussed their plans to wage war against Angelo Bronte. Bile stung the back of your throat as two-thirds of the trio outruled the other. Hosea’s final words to Dutch and Arthur, “You’ll damn us all,” filled you with dread and the overwhelming feeling of impending doom.

Arthur avoided your shadowed eyes as he reloaded his weapons and ignored your outcry against Dutch’s plan. Your desperation had turned swiftly to indignation, and an argument commenced, your voices clashing like swords. You begged him not to go, pleading with the enforcer to listen to reason for once, to listen to you. But he pushed back with the shield of obstinance he had long forged for survival.

“I don’t take orders from you, woman, and keep your goddamn voice down.”

Thousands of tiny needles pricked at the backs of your eyes at the harsh directive, but you held firm.

“Arthur, if you go I’ll–”

“Don’t,” he warned dismissively, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and ambling to the door. He didn’t even bother saying goodbye as he twisted the knob. Your last words fell on ears deafened from years of gunfire.

“If you leave, I won’t be here when you come back.”

Two days later, Arthur masked his guilt with anger as he skimmed over the last piece of you left in the room. Four words in the polite loops of your handwriting taunted him: Saint Denis. Train. Running.

After a quick check of the cinch, he found himself begrudgingly engulfed in the city of smog and greed he’d come to hate so much. Riding through the maze of cobblestone, brick, and vermin was like laying under a guillotine, staring up at the blade and waiting for it to drop. Law on every corner, people jammed together, and now, Bronte’s men out for revenge–none of it felt right.

Taking in a breath that didn’t reach deep enough, he started his search for you in this hornets’ nest of a city. Most of the hotels and saloons served him with nothing but a heavy dose of adrenaline and dead ends. As he approached Doyle’s Tavern, his last stop, he dug his nails into his trembling palm, savoring the sting of apathy that came with the pain.

Arthur made a beeline to Gabe Doyle, reciting his rehearsed description of you. A woman standing beside him, whose garments had seen cleaner days, tapped him on the shoulder. The outlaw didn’t even look at her, didn’t give her time to speak before he rejected her with razor-edge disdain. When Arthur finished, Gabe only shrugged his shoulders, but the woman, still standing close by, let out a derisive giggle.

“He won’t be of no help, mista’. Coulda’ told ya’ for free, but it’ll cost ya’ now.”

Ire made his ears ring, drowning out all the other sounds in the slum’s saloon. He drummed his fingers hard on the worn wooden bar, the taste of pride sour on his tongue.

“How much?”

Cleavage spilled over her top as she leaned towards him and twiddled brazenly with the collar of his shirt.

“Well, for clients that play nice, seven dollars, but for you, rotten dirty bastard––times it by ten.”

A minute later, he exited Doyle’s Tavern not a cent lighter, heavy with an indefinite ban, but finally, a real lead on you. Four new mocking words overshadowed ones from the letter: Whore house; Courtenay Street.

A brothel—a goddamn brothel.

Instinct lured him to the debauched inn, and your name frothed from his muzzle in more of a growl than speech. Like a rabid dog, he snapped and barked orders at the women unlucky enough to be trapped with the beast on the arena floor.

They tried futilely to stop his march down the hall, tried to keep him from getting to you, but the chaos drew you into the colosseum and into the lion’s direct line of sight. You yanked the man-turned-animal by the sleeve and sealed yourselves away before he could do any more damage.

More tame now, sea storm orbs surveyed you in a quick but covert once over, then he spun on his heel, searching for anything else to focus on.

“Christ, been looking for you all day, woman,” he bit out through clenched teeth.

The lone wolf prowled the new territory for a threat but was only met with a vacant cave and the empty feeling of shame. Deflecting, he found your luggage, lifting the bags with the practiced ease of carrying buckets of water to and fro. His biceps flexed with the weight of your whole life in one bag, but he nodded at you, matter of fact.

“C’mon. M’taking you home.”

Home. You could’ve laughed if it didn’t hurt so much. None of these places had ever been home.

“I ain’t going nowhere with you,” you fired back, grabbing for the suitcase in his hand. A brief game of tug-of-war ensued, your grip relentless, Arthur’s unwavering, until he finally let you pull one of the bags free. He dropped the other and exhaled with the sharpness of a saber but stayed silent at the conclusion of your weaponless duel. He’d fallen in love with that gnawing defiance, but now it was tearing him to pieces, bit by bit until it exposed the marrow of pure anger.

“Runnin’ off is one thing.” His nostrils flared, and the timbre of his voice deepened as he carried on, “But running off t’here–– selling yourself?” He shook his head and blew air through his teeth, “Yer crazier than I thought.”

You whirled away from him, swatting your hand like he was as insignificant as a fly.

“And you’re a bigger idiot than I thought. Ain’t selling myself, you damn fool! And I’ll do whatever the hell I please. Right now, I want to get far away from this shit city and you.”

“No, you don’t,” he said, dragging out the words. “I know you just as well as you think you know me. If you wanted away–really wanted away–you wouldn’t’ve left this pretty little letter, and sure as hell wouldn’t’ve told me where to find ya’.” He retrieved the letter from his satchel, held it up just long enough for you to see, and crushed it in his fist before discarding it on the floor.

“That’s what I think of your pretty little letter.”

You had started a slow involuntary backtrack during his monologue, the flight response pushing back against the fight. He followed, sandwiching you between himself and the door.

“Screw you.” Scorn was hot on your breath.

Just as you thought to turn the knob, to free yourself from the prison of flesh and wood, the iron teeth of a bear trap, his fingers, clamped around your wrist, bringing your hand to eye level.

“And you still got something of mine.”

Both pairs of eyes landed on a small round sparkling opal set in a gold band on your left ring finger.

You’d never forget finding it on your pillow along with a letter from Arthur that just said, “One day…”

He had made promises he didn’t keep. First, you just had to wait for the Ferry Job. Next, you needed to survive Colter. Then you had to get far away from the Pinkertons, and most recently, all you needed to do was help case the Lemoyne National Bank. One last job, he’d told you. It was the same thing he said before leaving for that boat in Blackwater.

Contempt flowed through your veins as you tried to wrench free. God, you hated him right now, but you hated yourself more for letting him fool you.

“Let go.” You hissed, seething.

Your hand throbbed as he gave your wrist another squeeze.

“You first.” Then he nodded towards the stone on your finger. “My ring,” he demanded.

Your knuckles collided with the wood of the door with a hard knock as you freed your hand. You flattened your palm against the wood behind your back, guarding the ring from the career thief’s piercing gaze.

“No,” you shot back, sinking into yourself. “It’s mine.”

Your finger throbbed around the ring you’d seldom taken off. It had become part of you, melded to your skin like a vine coiled around a tree in a beautiful and deadly embrace.

“Yours?” he huffed incredulously, shaking his head, trying to form your words into something he could understand. For a short beat, the heavy huff and puff of his breath was the only thing you could register.

You had mined forever to find something other than cold coals of anger within him. You thought you’d found it—thought you’d finally struck gold when he confessed his feelings for you somewhere out west all that time ago. Now, you were left wondering if it was only fool’s gold you had stumbled upon. The cowardly knight was far too proud and far too afraid of getting stabbed to lay down his armor. But you were having a silent conversation with those sad eyes, reading words he’d never speak or ask aloud. What does that make me, then?

“Yours.” He answered his inner thoughts without hesitation.

Mine. You thought back but only stared at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of cracking under his scrutiny.

“Yours.” He repeated assuredly, final.

It was your turn to shake your head now; you could hear his vocal cords vibrating, generating sounds you were supposed to understand, but he may as well have been speaking another language because what the hell did he know about being anybody else’s? You repeated your thoughts bluntly.

For a moment, he looked stunned, but then his hand shot out, cupping your jaw and tilting your face toward his. He was so close, you could smell him now. The scents of liquor on his breath and leather in his hat permeated your whole being.

“You don’t think–” His voice was low and trembling with fury. “I been yours since the goddamn day I laid eyes on you, and you know it.”

Fight, flight, freeze, and now fawn all warred for dominance. Twin mirrors of blue cosmos peered into your soul, but you didn’t look back, knowing that black holes of destruction ruled in the center and could swallow you in the blink of an eye.

“You have to go, Arthur.”

You tried to reach for the knob again, but Arthur imposed on you further, his chest brushing against yours.

“No,” he said. “I ain’t going nowhere without you, and you ain’t going nowhere without me. M’done talking about it.”

It’s like he couldn’t listen, couldn’t hear you, couldn’t respect what you wanted. He only ever responded to shouting and violence. So you dipped down to his level, anything to get him to understand. Your open hand pushed full force against his chest, knocking the wind from him and making him stumble backward.

“You don’t own me, Arthur Morgan!”

But the shouting was no use. He closed in on you again, and you reached out, clenching your fists in his shirt to stop his advance. If he noticed, he didn’t let on, talking with a tight jaw.

“No, dammit, cause you own me.”

You balled your fists around cotton fabric and pulled him down into you, inhaling like you were bracing for the worst. This game, Predator and Prey, had become second nature to you. You would always be his fawn, thrashing and wailing, yet never escaping the salivating jaws of the coyote. And it always ended the same: a clash of heavy breathing and snarls before you surrendered.

Tobacco and whiskey never tasted so good, and they were just as addictive as him. Your teeth clashed together, and his left hand fell to your hip while his right twisted the lock on the knob.

He was never gentle, but now, he was almost crazed. Rough hands that were trembling only an hour ago were all over you, gripping your jaw, sliding under your blouse, pushing and pulling you to his whim.

“Falling in love with you was the dumbest thing I ever did,” you confessed as he removed his hat and set it aside; he had better access to you without it. Heat surged through you as his hands bit into your hips, pinning you in place against the locked door.

You mumble under your breath, “Bastard.”

So far, he was ignoring your attempts to rouse him; you were his pretty little doe, caught in his chops, and a few barbs wouldn’t keep him from utterly devouring you. Dipping his head into your neck, he fixated on that pulsing artery, taking no time to roll the flesh between his teeth.

“Goddamn asshole,” you huffed but cradled his head as he claimed you.

He brushed over the ruptured blood vessels with his knuckles, and the bastard was smiling, eyes glazed over with lust and self-indulgence. Electricity sparked down your legs as he looped his fingers in the waistband of your skirt.

You swore to yourself two nights ago that it was all over, that you wouldn’t let him slither back, yet here you were, Eve, being tempted by the serpent. Teeth sank into the forbidden fruit with the lift of your hips off the door, giving him permission to snatch both your skirt and bloomers down in a swift pull. Arthur didn’t need much persuasion to eat from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil; a man like him could have never lived for eternity in The Garden of Eden.

The pair of you wore pride like heraldry, but neither of you was as honorable as you’d led the other to believe. You, provoking him with the threat of leaving, knowing you’d let this happen as you always did, and him never changing and never stopping the cycle of broken promises.

Your scent was intoxicating, but he held off from relishing it, studying your face like he’d done many times before. Something was different this time, though. Only for a heartbeat, you saw something in his eye, a minuscule hint of vulnerability. You blinked, and it was gone like it was never there, replaced by an unabashed smirk. You kept the insults flying.

“Jerk.”

Hearing the laugh rumble in his chest made your skin prick up the same way it did when a thunderstorm was brewing on the horizon. The cowboy braced his hands against your thighs and peeked up at you, his lips still curved in the corners.

He lifted his eyebrow in question, “You done?”

“Shut up,” you responded, tangling your fingers in his hair and guiding him, not so gracefully, to the heat between your legs.

Obeying, he flicked his tongue out to lap at you, drawing you closer in a hug, his palms resting on the curve of your ass cheeks. Steadying yourself against the door, you tugged on his hair like reins, but fuck, you didn’t want him to stop. You grunted and cursed under your breath as that gluttonous, greedy grifter feasted on you.

Blasphemous sounds rose up from your chest as you rocked your hips feverishly with every swipe of his warm wet tongue against your clit. Every tug of his locs and bump of your mound into his nose sent blood pulsing full speed to the bulge in his pants. He knew you were dancing dangerously close to the cliff’s overhang by the way you were keeping him in place, right where you wanted him. But the brute stopped and locked eyes with you, lips curved downward. That slight glimpse of vulnerability you thought you’d seen earlier was now on full display.

“Say you won’t go,” he choked out.

Down on his knees, looking up at you with genuine sincerity was the closest he’d ever get to prayer or penance. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat but didn’t answer him.

Instead, you ushered him back to his feet and crashed your lips into his again, tangling your tongue with his.

In a swift motion, you popped his suspenders loose while you walked him backward. The backs of his knees hit the bed, and he shimmied off his multiple layers just as quick as you unfastened the buttons on your blouse. You stood before him, a goddess, determining his eternal fate. And he waited, fixated on you, languidly stroking his engorged cock while you decided.

You replaced his fisted grip with yours, bending to meet his eye. The almost frown on his face made you wonder what he was seeing staring back at him. You imagined your pupils blown out, your lips swollen, and your hair disheveled. Arthur was the only man in the world who could turn you into a vixen.

“You’re a fool, Arthur Morgan.” Your noses were almost touching as you tightened your grip and stroked him painfully slowly. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he nodded, his face downright solemn.

“Mhm,” you went on, rubbing circles atop his hot, leaking pink tip. Your pace quickened as your cheek grazed his. A shiver ran through him as the vibrations of your voice tickled his ear.

“No good, thieving, murderous bastard.”

“I know.” He drew out, tightly clutching the sheets. With a firm nudge, you urged him onto his back.

“You don’t deserve me. Never did,” you continued. His hips jutted in time with your wrist, his climax sitting low in his balls.

“I–dammit–I–kn–know.”

The muscles of his stomach constricted as he fought for breath, damn near suffocating under your touch.

“I’ll change.” He gasped, eyes closed, and brow furrowed. “I’ll change. But–ahh–I ain’t ever gonna be good enough for you, woman–nghh–no matter how much changin’ I do.”

Air finally flowed back through with the halt of your pumping. The mattress sunk with your added weight as you slung your legs on either side of him. Neither party stalled. You gave him a quick nod before he could even ask, and he sank his length into your warm, wet pussy. There were no hushing kisses, no waiting for you to adjust, no cajoling, just the smacking of skin and the aroma of sex in the room as he molded you to his girth. Bashfulness had never even crossed your mind. You rode him tirelessly, whimpering, gasping, and filling the air with his name.

The roles reversed; you were the animal now, a lioness pursuing a buck. Chasing the high, you galloped hard and fast and grinding your hips against his to relieve the throbbing ache in your clit. You massaged the sensitive nub between your thighs, indulging in the pleasure you were giving yourself and receiving from him. The tip of his cock bumped that sweet spot inside of you, the one that made you tense and cry out over and over again.

You didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want him to know what he was doing to you or how he was making you feel–how he always made you feel when he was burrowed deep inside of you. You couldn’t hide from him, though. He knew you–knew the faces and sounds you made, knew the way you tightened around him, knew how you stiffened, knew how your breathing shallowed when you were on the edge. He knew the control he’d have over you forever.

“You ain’t going nowhere.” He grunted as he pounded up into you, the knot in his stomach tightening with his own upcoming release.

“Fucker,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, and you love it.”

You couldn’t deny it.

He took your hand in his and felt for the ring on your finger, stroking it, all while keeping eye contact and hammering relentlessly into your velvety walls. Four more thrusts and your eyes rolled back as the lightbulb of tension burst.

“That’s right, let it go, there it is.” Muttering, his upward ruts got sloppier as you rode out your body-spasming orgasm. Then he started babbling, lost in your sweet heat,

“Shit, I’m–bout t–m’close.”

The cowboy tried to lift you up, tried not to spill inside of you, but you buried your head in the crook of his neck and lowered yourself back down, taking him balls deep.

“Goddamnit,” he growled, hugging you to his chest, “the hell you doing, t’me, woman?” He panted and stared up at the ceiling like a man condemned.

“Ain’t going nowhere,” you echoed breathlessly, still bouncing, before adding, “Yours.”

In a few more strokes, he filled you up, grunting through his teeth and cursing up a storm that’d make even the most seasoned sailors look on timidly.

Outside noises of the establishment and the streets of Saint Denis droned back in as both of you came back to your senses. An ocean of things was left unsaid as you redressed and let Arthur lead you out of the room and to a proper hotel for the night. The next morning, you took Arthur up on his offer to get away for a few days. As the train you had boarded for your trip chugged on, something in the distance piqued your interest, a small homestead. You could vaguely make out a woman sitting on the porch and a man, presumably her husband, tending to a horse nearby. Of course, you didn’t know their life or their struggles, but if you could write your own happily ever after, it would be that. Arthur nudged you with his elbow, interrupting your daydream.

“M’sorry...about everything,” he said, low, barely audible. The perpetual ache in your chest had almost gone numb after so long. Almost.

“I know.” You replied and turned back to the window. The house was out of sight now, and you had a feeling your fairy tale ending had vanished with it.

#guys if you're searching for perfection #it's in Zae's fics #Jesus I'm still not over it #the way your wite him... Always so perfectly #so in character #his voice resonating in my ears rn #and the whole predator and prey metaphors #so satisfied to read all this #anyway I really must stop rn #we stan Zae #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #zaefic #ficrec #arthur morgan x reader #also i'm so sorry for the late reblog!!#life got hectic and I really wanted to write a proper review!!#to do justice to your magnificent work <3

414 notes · View notes

eyothings · 3 days ago

Text

So out of nowhere this december, i've been hit with nostalgia and decided it was time to rewatch Buffy The Vampire Slayer's entire series after the last time it aired on tv, meaning 20 years ago.

Not only it shaped a whole side of my lil sister personality, it is also the favorite show of one of my cousin and closest friends.

And considering the state i'm in after finishing season 7, i know for sure Spike is the origin of my utter love for anti-heros, England and ennemies-to-lovers trope.

He is one of those characters that stay with you forever.

C'mon look at him, LO_OK.

I had very few memories of the show, only some big moments: Angel leaving for a spinoff, Spike ♥, Dark Willow, Spuffy - Basically I remembered almost nothing.

The first season set the tone for me, i forgot the serie was very funny, and what worked right away was the simple fact that they didn't act seriously either, the actors looked like they just had fun. On top of that, even if i already knew that, the show is very feminist and advanced for its time.

I also forgot how much of an asshole Xander is. lol

The worst season for me is clearly season 4, and between you and me, and me and you, it's unsurprisingly because of Riley and the army.

The best season is obviously season 6, and not only for Spike and Spuffy but for Buffy's whole personality.

I have so much to say about the show really, but I'll stay focused and talk about the two ships: Bangel and Spuffy (and a bit of Riley). Note that it is purely my point of view, based on what i like to see and read in fiction and how I perceive the characters, there is clearly a big difference compared to real life. As well as any "bitch" mentioned here is only affectionate. And if you're crazy enough to read the entire post, I apologise in advance for the many mistakes in my writing, as English is not my mother tongue.

The moment i'm writing this VERY long ass post, I've only just started to watch Angel the series for the first time and I've only seen the first season, so my thoughts on him may change in the future, but I don't think my pov on the ships will. I am also aware of some events in seasons 8 to 12 (comics).

• Bangel:

To be honest I liked their love story more when Angel was Angelus.

First, them falling in love never really clicked, I guess they played the love at first sight trope, but she was 15 and he was 200; at that age, any man who was pretty enough and a bit dark would've worked for her. (I won't talk about a 26 y/o man falling in love with a 15 y/o teenager, the man is from 1727, at this point it's not even the same culture okay??)

I thought I'd still give it a chance and root for them, even if I was fully aware of him leaving and Spike would be the new romance (I FORGOT THE WASTE OF TIME WITH RILEY), because they actually talked about all the issues, they knew something was off with their love story but they couldn't stop.

I have not much to say about the nature of their love, it was a cute romance at best, but the more they went further the cringier it'd get, I still have trauma about their kiss noises, no kidding.

They slept together and Angel becomes Angelus, which is supposed to be sad and add some angst, but Angelus was so charismatic, I didn't care about Angel anymore.

And what can I say? I think the soul vs no soul aspect played kinda badly, they all said that Angelus was incapable of love since he had no soul, but we had the concrete proof that love was possible thanks to Spike & Drusilla to begin with ??

I was hoping that, since they sold us their love as super powerful and intense, Angelus would end up falling in love with Buffy, especially after the episode in which both are possessed by ghosts in season 2 episode 19 - I Only Have Eyes for You - which is my favorite moment between them:

but NO, Angelus cannot love, and only Angel can:

It's either we get the flavored guy but no romance or the bland one with a half romance.

Talk about the greatest love story there.

And the whole season 3 is Angel and Buffy having a teen romance:

"Let's just hold hands and kiss but nothing else"

Of course I guess this kind of love story is possible, but it is made clear they both feel the sexual tension each time they kiss, they even dream of doing it. So the only thing that comes of it, is frustrating feelings, for Buffy, for Angel and for us watching them going nowhere.

The hottest moment they have is when Angel bites her to survive.

Surely for a love story that is sold to be so grand, I expected Angel to find a cure for the curse? And fight for his love or something?

♫ Nope, he just leaves. ♫

♫ Bitch talks about fighting for what is worth and bails out at the first difficulty. ♫

i cannot even blame Joyce here, she made the right call, for real. Mother knows best, but he had the chance to prove her wrong.

And in parallel to that we are introduced to Spike, a vampire with no soul who is one hundred times worth Angel, just by existing.

And there is so much to say, whether or not Spuffy was intended, whether or not Angel is supposed to be the love of Buffy's life; After reaching seven seasons, I can guarantee without any hesitation, that Spike is the one, there is no contest.

I can't, for the life of me, believe one second that Joss Whedon and the rest of the team wrote the enemies to lovers story of the last two decades without doing it on purpose? They were so much into Angel, to realize what was happening?

They sold me Angel and Buffy being the "forever love", and, in a way, they are, but only because they cling to the "what could've been".

Of course they will always be attracted to each other until they really try. They'll always idealise their love story and fill the plotholes with their imagination. But it is dramatically bound to end in disaster.

And no, Buffy, I cannot take you seriously when you say "I loved him more than I will ever love anything in this life" ; You were a teenager, it is normal to feel more deeply when you're 16, but that doesn't mean anything, and you know it too well.

Angel left her broken, unable to trust anyone, unable to trust herself and alone: If the love of her life doesn't want to be with her, then who will? (♫ We have an idea ♫ )

Soul or not, he has been a coward, with no intent to get to know Buffy, her family, her friends. He decided what was best for her without asking her.

All he does after that, is coming back into Buffy's life at the worst moments to be jealous.

♫ He is that toxic boyfriend who comes back with puppy eyes each time you try to move on. ♫

Every time he appears in an episode it's to disappoint even more: I was rooting for him, I even missed him A LOT in season 4 !

And, sure, meanwhile, the dance between Spike and Buffy was already ongoing since season 2, but we really didn't have any concrete scenes between them that could seal the ship for good (them under Willow's spell in season 4 doesn't count). So the best option at that moment was the hope for Angel to come back.

Buffy never really had the chance to move on from Angel because of Riley and his insecurities, but also because Angel cannot seem to move on, while moving on at the same time ? ! ? ♫ Bitch has a child ♫

The moment Angel left the show, it should have been for good. (Note aside, I'm still having a hard time believing the character had his own spinoff because of his popularity, when we barely saw him hanging around in the first 3 seasons, wouldn't have it been simpler for him to stay and have more scenes, like Spike?) • Riley & Buffy (Briley??)

And so Angel never came back, and we got Riley instead. He was the perfect choice to make the bridge between Bangel and Spuffy. She needed to experience a "normal" romance, with a "normal guy" to know what it's like and to understand what she really wants, but one season and a half was way too much. ♫ I ended up googling " WHEN is Riley LEAVING? "♫ The moment Buffy said she held back her strength when training with him, was enough to see what was coming.

Riley was nothing else than just an army guy under steroids who couldn't even handle his girlfriend being stronger than him.

Him blaming Buffy for not really being around when her mother was dying was the cherry on top of the loser's behavior.

Buffy needed someone with whom she could be 100% herself, an equal, and Riley knew he wasn't half of that; so he made her pay? By cheating on her and leaving? Then coming back a year later to brag about his wedding? Lmao give me a break Riloser.

So now Buffy is alone AGAIN, both men she thought she loved, left without looking back. ♫ Over my shouuulder ♫

And from those two relationships, we can already see what she needs in a romance:

- An emotionally available man - That can be there for her without pushing her - Someone who doesn't flee the second he encounters the smallest difficulty - A man strong enough for her to unleash the full force without being afraid of hurting him ♫ yes i'm talking about sex ♫ - Someone who understands her role as the slayer and her crazy life - Someone selfless capable of protecting her family and friends - Someone she can trust.

♫ And now, ladies and gentlemen, lets welcome ♫

• Spuffy:

Ok first a bit of context here: I disagree about people criticizing Buffy season 6 Lets just understand whats going on: Bitch sacrifices herself to save the world and her sister; at that moment, she feels peace for the first time in her life, for the first time she is not afraid to die and fulfill her destiny by choice. She has an heroic death, ends up resting in paradise...

♫ Then her friends who can't handle to live without her, decide to bring her back to life. ♫

Not only she comes back to life in her fucking coffin, she also: - Has to crawl to the surface (almost dying stupidly) - Has to act as if nothing happened - Has to be the slayer again - Cannot even go back to university - Has even less prospect for a normal life - She is poor - She needs to find money (ends up working in a fast food) - Has to thanks her friends for bringing her back to the life she never wanted - Is being blamed for not really being around.

♫ I WOULD HAVE BEEN SO FUCKING PISSED YOU CANNOT EVEN IMAGINE ♫

So what? She comes back, feels different, depressed, alone AGAIN and figuratively chained to a life she still doesn't want, and the only person who does understand what she is going through is Spike. Spike who has been here for her family and friends the whole time she was dead, meaning, he did it because he wanted to, because he felt genuine pleasure in hanging out with them while keeping his promise to protect Dawn.

He could have left, but never did, even though his love was one-sided, he loved her so much he stayed.

♫ Death couldn't do them apart ♫

He has been a father figure for Dawn, but not only that, Spike was also the only vampire Joyce liked and trusted, a presence she didn't mind in her home without Buffy around.

And Spike did love Joyce very much ♥

And I have so much to say about Spike, he is that multi-flavored character with so many layers, who stays interesting with or without a soul. He is a slayer's killer, seen as one of the most dangerous vampires, that anyone should be scared to be around, he has so much confidence in himself, he doesn't even mind being so freaking pathetic when it comes to love.

He is not even afraid nor ashamed to show his affection, to be vulnerable, to be open about it, and most of it, he just embraces it without a care of the outcome, he is just living by the day, knowing perfectly that everything could stop at any moment. Though, that being said, i'm still well aware Spike has also MANY flaws, all he does is mainly driven by love but it is still extreme and twisted due to his soulless condition. I really don't know where to start, because i feel like Buffy and Spike's destinies are intertwined - They are a mirror to each other. Buffy's behavior has anything to do with Spike, as Spike's behavior has anything to do with Buffy - it is really like watching a dance.

Spike allows her to embrace and explore the darkest part of herself - She was always the perfect girl everyone expected her to be.

She needed to do good, to BE good, but what if she, for once, chose the other side? Of course she never went as far as Faith did, but she allowed herself to fall into a forbidden romance, and to go against everyone's expectations, because she only felt something when she was with him. And i loved this part of her, because to me, she finally has flaws! I mean, she always had some but not to that extent. And maybe, maybe being like this, was a way for her to never fall completely into the darkness nor into Spike's influence.

Maybe she was in an inner battle between good and bad.

Maybe it was an unconscious way to either push him away, or test him to see if he will ever leave her. Abusive or not towards Spike, let's not forget that he is still William the bloody, and the only thing that stops him from killing anyone is the chip in his brain. We're still talking about the guy who would have easily killed Willow if he had the chance, the one Buffy wouldn't trust at all without that said chip.

Even though Spike has done TREMENDOUS good deeds with the scoobies, he is still a slave to his primary emotions.

Don't get me wrong, this is why i love Spike SO MUCH, his duality as a soulless vampire is everything. The man can talk to you about his favorite romantic show and a minute later kill someone in cold blood and find a great pleasure in both.

♫ Anyway ♫

Above all things, they are in love, and this love is extremely intense, deep, powerful, unbearable and terrible.

Thanks to Tara, Buffy realizes she did not come back as any different as before she died and realizes the horrors she has committed to Spike by treating him like a monster he never trully was.

Buffy ends up admitting her wrongs and grows out of her darkness and chooses to be good and to end her relationship with Spike. And she is glowing and glimming, and she's not his anymore.

Which leads Spike to end up doing something awful.

And what does he do after that??

He leaves the city...

♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ TO FIX HIMSELF ♫ ♫ ♫

Ladies and Gentlemen, we are in the year 2002, and yes you read me well:

THE BAD GUY GOES TO FIX HIMSELF TO BE WORTHY OF THE GIRL

♫ William the bloody risked his fucking life in a trial to get back his soul ♫

She doesn't fix him, he does it on his own because he knows something must be done to repair his wrongs, that his love needs to be purified of his monstrous side to be a better man and stand at her side.

And even though she doesn't know that, she is still looking for him, even after what he has done, she is always drawn to him, she always wants to be around him.

Then she learns he got his spark back for her and she does everything in her power to keep him by her side.

Because now it is time for Spike to embrace the brightest part of himself thanks to Buffy.

I love them so much, especially in season 7 because they don't even have to act romantically to show how deep their love is for each other. How simple it has become, how instinctive their complicity is. They know how to complement each other, it is almost symbiotic.

They are clearly not ready to be together again until they really sort things out but Spike has seen the best and the worst parts of her, and is still hers entirely, and will always be.

As much as Buffy has seen the best and worst parts of him, and she still trusts and loves him to the point of asking the initiative to remove the chip in his brain. ♫ On top of desperately not wanting him to die ♫ Also, without knowing it yet, she is entirely his and will always be.

Buffy sees Spike’s worth, and Spike sees Buffy’s, even when neither of them can see their own.

They lift each other up, and become an unbreakable force, to the point that no one can split them.

And this is one of my favorite parts of Spuffy, in season 7:

Before, she would never have let Spike kill a human, not even out of revenge. But now, she’s willing to let his shadow take over if it means keeping him alive, just as he learns to hold it back. To me, episode 17 - Lies My Parents Told Me - marks how far their connection has grown: Buffy running as fast as she can to save Spike Spike's past with his mother, helping him make peace with some of it, as part of his ongoing redemption arc ♫ it broke my heart ♫ Spike coming back to his senses to beat the shit out of Robin, and giving him a last chance Buffy telling Robin she'll let Spike kill him next time he even tries to harm Spike Buffy choosing Spike over Giles Buffy choosing Spike over the "common sense" Buffy choosing love over her duty (even if she pretends otherwise) ♫ Buffy, you cannot fool Spike, but you cannot fool us either! ♫

And i love this parallel with the end of season 2 when she had to choose duty over love and kill Angel. This is Buffy allowing herself to be a bit more selfish while Spike is allowing himself to be a bit more selfless.

And then in the middle of the biggest battle of her life, she is overthrown over shitty excuses ♫ i have a LOT to say about the Scoobies but that post is insanely long to add some salt ♫ and who is the one that still has her back? Spike. Spike has always been unconditionally here for her and never let her down, which even the Scoobies didn't always do.

Spike is the one who delivers the most selfless and beautiful love declaration of the whole show, to her. When she needs it the most, because he is the only one who can see her.

And his love is what gives strength to Buffy to trust herself and pursue her goal. He is the one who brings back the light in Buffy, who pushes her to live and accept her fate as being the one.

And talking about light,

♫ What a freakin' poetry to have centered Spike's whole redemption arc around it ♫

He was always pursuing that light, whether in Cecily when he was a human or Buffy as a vampire. All he had to do was bring the light into him and embrace his humanity to fulfill his redemption. And so he makes the ultimate sacrifice, And he glows. Not only he saves the world willingly and selflessly but he also gives back the fire inside Buffy, frees her from Sunnydale and her role as the sole slayer.

♫ "I love you" - "Spike" are the last words Buffy says in the show ♫ • Conclusion A freaking long ass post only to say that to me, Spuffy is very well written as enemies to lovers, thanks to Jane Espenson, Douglas Petrie & Marti Noxon. Though i think Spike still suffers some injustices, but I'm glad he got the respect he deserves in the comics, (which i consider canon) : Not only does Spike end up as part of the Scoobies but also with Buffy, and he is the only one with whom she fights for their relationship to last. ♫ And they're endgame in season 12 ♫ (Thank you Christos Gage)

I also think JW made many mistakes for Bangel to work: I know he was kinda annoyed by Spike's popularity at first and wanted Angel to be seen as the main vampire of the franchise, which led him to give Angel his own spinoff, but by doing that, he also broke the link between Buffy and Angel. Which ultimately led Spike to have a more organic evolution with her instead of Angel. They both had their own paths in their own separate worlds, which forced JW to accept Spuffy as being the logical conclusion. Just as Cordelia was also the best choice for Angel to grow and be more open about his emotions. Claiming in interviews that Angel is the love of Buffy's life without ever demonstrating it concretely in any of the media itself makes this statement fall flat. I do not hate Bangel, I think the ship was necessary for Buffy to grow, but i do see more Angel as her first idealised and tragic love, while with Spike, it is more grounded, mature and based on mutual respect, trust, acceptation and stability.

♫ Angel should have stayed and Spike and Drusilla should have had their own spinoff, and i'd have paid to see that. ♫ • My pov on Sprusilla?

Literally nothing to say about them, they match each other freak to a level no one can ever comprehend.

♫ They are a perfect match and untouchable. ♫ ♫ May they end up together again and last for eternity. ♫

♫ With animals. ♫ (alive)

52 notes · View notes

amomentsescape · 2 days ago

Note

Can you do slashers with there lover being neurodivergent (adhd, add, autistic) and how they would act around them?

Slashers with Neurodivergent! Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo

A/N: I tried to not get too into specifics since I wanted this to be applicable to anyone on the neurodivergence spectrum. I hope you enjoy!

Freddy Krueger

Let's be honest, Freddy is a walking sensory nightmare

Loud, cackling voice

Rough, scarred skin

Constantly covered in the scent of blood and death

He's not exactly the most calm type of person to be around

However, he tries his best to be understanding for you (surprisingly)

He'll fill the room with your favorite scent

If things are too loud, he'll muffle the sound and replace it with your favorite song

And any time you need a break from your day-to-day life, he'll be there at night, helping you into his world

He knows what it's like to feel a little different, so he wants to try and make things as comfortable as possible for you

Michael Myers

If social interactions aren't your forte, you're in luck

The only "socializing" Michael wants to do involves stabbing, which he never forces you into

So the majority of your time is spent at home, doing whatever you want away from the loud sounds and bustling lives of other people

If you're more on the energetic side, then this might be a little tough for you

Michael isn't really known to be excitable

Or really having any desire of "fun"

But if you're bouncing off the walls enough, he'll eventually give in

Anything to get you to calm down

Just don't expect him to join in on any of the fun

He'll just stand there stiffly, watching you do whatever it is you wanted

Jason Voorhees

He loves everything about you and wouldn't change anything

Jason had also struggled with similar things as you, so he completely understands

Socializing isn't his thing, so he won't ever put you in those types of situations

But if you want to get out of the forest for a bit, he'll happily tag along as your protector

If certain textures or visuals trigger you, he's throwing them out the window (literally)

And he's also really good at picking up on your bodily cues when words fail you

He understands you a lot better than others have in the past, and he always makes it a point to learn as much as he can about you

He doesn't see you as anything different, he just sees you

Thomas Hewitt

He grew up dealing with his own triggers and being confused why certain things bothered him more than the rest of his family

So meeting you has honestly helped him learn more about himself

Once you sit down and explain everything to him, something in him just clicks

He honestly sees it as destiny now

You're just like him; you two were made for each other

And because of his own personal experiences, he's able to understand and listen to you very easily

If anything is upsetting or triggering you, he's quick to help you immediately

Will drop everything the moment you show the slightest discomfort

And if anything is ever bothering him, you're the first and only person he'll go to

You understand him better than anyone in his family ever did

Bubba Sawyer

He honestly has no idea what's going on until his mother explains it to him a little better

After that, all you have to do is give him a certain look, and he immediately knows

He'll quiet down right away when he can tell he's being too loud

And if he's overstimulating you with his giant hugs and smothering kisses, he'll quickly pull back and sit stiffly next to you

He has a decent understanding of what triggers you, he just has a hard time with thinking about his actions beforehand

He's just used to being so impulsive all the time

So it's going to take a while for him to get used to everything, but he'll happily do it for you

He doesn't think any differently of you either

This is just you, and he wants to be your biggest supporter

Brahms Heelshire

He can tell things are a little different with you compared to the "nannies" he's had in the past

It's harder for you to stay on track, your mind bouncing from one thing to the next despite the list in front of you

And you always seem to keep the music quieter around the house, the kitchen a bit tidier than necessary, and the lights turned low most of the day

He doesn't ever end up questioning you about it

He really has no reason to feel any certain way about how you act

You take care of him and the home better than anyone else in the past

And he can tell your curiosity of the large manor and the differing peace and quiet you're receiving here is putting you in a state of ease

Which is good, since this is your new home

Norman Bates

Norman grew up feeling a little different from other people too

And it's not just because he's a murderer

He likes to do things a certain way, and you're just about the only one he trusts to do them too

He doesn't like being in larger gatherings or loud areas, so he won't ever force you into those

And as someone with a short social battery, he can almost immediately tell when yours is drained

The moment he sees the tilt of your head or your drooping eyes, he's throwing you into bed with a warm blanket, a mug of tea, and your favorite book

And if you're ever struggling to focus or silence the thoughts booming around in your head, he'll sit beside you and read to you

Somehow, his voice always manages to replace the ones yelling at you in your mind

He's basically "calm" in human form

Billy Loomis

He's not the most empathetic with everything since he doesn't fully understand what you're going through

But he knows certain things bother you, and he gets incredibly uncomfortable if you're also uncomfortable

Thankfully, he's not big into crazy social situations or loud areas

He prefers the peace and quiet most of the time

And he's clean too, always washing up right after one of his "excursions"

And although not the most sympathetic, he's observant

If a certain situation made you uncomfortable, he won't put you in it ever again

If someone said something rude about you acting "differently," they'll be dead before the next morning

He's protective over you

Stu Macher

You can't convince me that Stu isn't also neurodivergent

His whole personality screams ADHD

So if you struggle with maintaining attention on something or becoming easily hyper-fixated, Stu is probably going to make this much worse for you

He can't help it, because he has a pretty good understanding of you

However, if certain sensory experiences are tough for you, he'll do his best to calm himself down

He wants to be your security blanket, not a trigger

So if he has to talk more softly, move more slowly, and just relax at home with you instead of going to some crazy party, he will

A casual movie night at home is just fine for him, it doesn't even have to be scary!

Your company is honestly the most important thing to him

Vincent Sinclair

He can relate to you in more ways than one, and he's grown to learn more about what to do whenever things get tough

He's accumulated and made his own sensory blankets and fidget toys which he happily shares with you

He also has his own tips for whenever you have trouble focusing or keeping your thoughts at bay

And if there's anything that differs between you two, he'll gladly take a seat and listen to your perspective with how you feel

Having a brother like Bo has made him feel incredibly reclusive growing up

You're the first person to make him feel like he isn't alone

So whatever he can do to show you some normalcy, he's going to do

No matter the cost

Bo Sinclair

He knows the traits of Vincent all too well to not notice the similarities in you

Which is a bit of a shame considering him and his brother are almost polar opposites of each other

Bo wants to be in the spotlight, socializing and causing a ruckus in any late night establishment he can find

He likes excitement, unpredictability, and chaos

His idea of relaxing is your idea of Hell, unfortunately

There are thankfully days that Bo would rather just hang on the couch with a beer in hand by your side

But these days aren't super common

And he unfortunately has trouble sympathizing with you whenever you feel overwhelmed or upset by something

He tries, and he may even talk to Vincent a bit if he's desperate

As long as you don't prevent him from going out and acting however he pleases, he won't have a problem with your differences

100 notes · View notes

havocandcchaos · 3 days ago

Text

THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS

Glinda is insanely flawed and insanely human, and she is us in the story. And so many people ignore that because it's uncomfortable. it's easier to say she's wholly good or wholly evil because then you can condemn her or praise her instead of stopping and looking in a mirror. The wizard was right when he said very few people are ok with moral ambiguities, and most of the audience doesn't fall into that category, and that's why so much of the musical is being diminished to simpler and easier terms. Which DEFEATS THE WHOLE POINT.

Glinda is easier to accept when she's evil. Elphaba is easier to accept when she's perfect. Fiyeros is easier to accept when he's madly in love. They're all easier to accept when they're not human.

Except the whole point is that they are.

Glinda is terrified the whole show, and that's what drives her. She's scared of being alone. She's scared of loving Elphie. She's scared of the world around her. She is scared of death. She's scared of losing Elphie. Ultimately, it's that last one that wins out because she loses Fiyero, and in her mind, she basically already lost Elphie, but she won't let her die, too. Not if she can help it. And then she can't help it. Elphaba Thropp is dead. And every single one of her fears came true. She was right the whole time. They were never gonna win. They were in a tragedy, and she knew it, and she was right about it. But by god, she's got nothing left to lose but her life, and frankly, she doesn't want it that much anymore anyway, so she takes up Elphaba's cause and she fights, and if it kills her then let it.

Elphaba makes mistake after mistake after mistake, but she's on the "right" side, so she's clearly perfect. Elphaba fails. Life for the Animals in Oz only gets worse, and sure, she saves a few people and changes a few minds, but at the end of the day, she isn't able to do much more than make things worse. She made things easier for Morrible and the Wizard. But she is the protagonist, so she is perfect instead of learning from her mistakes and realizing that revolutions don't work if you're only fighting for one small group without finding a way to loop in more people and make more people care.

(I believe humans are naturally empathetic. I also believe we have that beat out of us before we can walk. Most people aren't going to fight to change a system that isn't actively killing them. It can be hurting them or killing them slowly, but if they're not actively full of bullets, they're not going to exert the energy to change. And even if they are full of bullets, by then, they'll feel it's too late.)

And Fiyero, god bless him, is so dumb. That boy wants to die from the moment we meet him, and Elphaba gives him a way to do it. Yes, he loves her, but god, he's just tired, and he mostly just wants out, and if he can have that for a good cause, then all the better. There is a lot to learn from Fiyero, but when he's whittled down to a perfect man in love, he is no longer any different from every basic love interest and everything he brings is lost (just like he wanted it to be)

I cannot stress enough how much I love the movie and how much I love that it's becoming more mainstream because that means more content for me to consume about it, but oh my god, if I see one worse take about these characters, especially from people how HAVEN'T EVEN SEEN PART 2, I will start throwing hands.

If you simplify the characters, then you lose the whole point of their story, to begin with, and this story is too important for that. Especially right now. Especially when we're living Act 2. were not all Elphaba. Most of us are Glinda. And that's ok, so long as you use this story to learn from all of them and try to do better.

We can't lose them. Not right now.

This is all @polyarmy and @fiyeroba ‘s fault for making me sad about Glinda again so now I’m posting my whole Glinda Meta here (originally an obnoxiously long dm sent to @gamorahww who is a patient saint)

You’ve asked for it, and now you get……The Glinda Meta™

First: I have been obsessed w/ Glinda's character for like 15 years. She is my roman empire. But I also really LIKE her as a flawed character - something that the fandom has always seemed to be a little uncomfortable with.

She is, to me, what Jane Austen once wrote about Emma:

“I am going to write a heroine whom no one but myself will much like.”

Full meta character analysis under the cut. Uh. Strap in.

(This gets a lil long sorry, but PLEASE HEAR ME OUT -)

To me, the interesting thing is what actually - ACTUALLY - motivates Glinda to act the way she does is so much greater and deeper than a simple desire for success/fame/popularity.

Like obviously in literature/critique of narrative, we have this idea of protagonists vs supporting characters. Supporting characters might have philosophies or goals that drive them (think Nessa and Boq) but those philosophies and goals are usually not developed into self-contradictory nuance the way a protagonist's motivations are. They’re just facts about the character.

And in my option, a big problem in the wicked fandom is that everybody seems to treat Glinda as a supporting character whose motivations are easy to digest. To most fans, she's either the girlfriend who is there to support Elphaba's story by being "loving but conflicted." Or to critics she's entirely selfish and cruel (even as she's fun and interesting), and therefore a semi-antagonist

But if you step back and treat Glinda as a true antihero protagonist of Wicked (for the sake of the mental character study), you see that she's not actually motivated by love or popularity or even success....what drives her is desperation.

Glinda sees her world as a place that cannot be changed and will only work to destroy those who cannot correctly operate in it. And she is SO DESPERATE to avoid that. Elphaba's fate is actually her worst fear - she cannot break away from society and leap to a new fate, because she is the ultimate cynic who thinks there is no way that could possibly work. In fact, it's an enormous testament to her love (however you want to intepret that) of Elphaba that she's even willing to consider leaving during Defying Gravity. For a brief moment, her immense, incredible faith in Elphaba is almost enough to overcome her complete desperation to survive the horrible world she thinks she's in.

And that obviously means that she's not as noble as Elphaba or as brave as Fiyero as a character - she cannot make the choice to leave when both of them do at different points - but that's because she's the most "human" character in the story. Most people are not brave enough to become international terrorists, even in the face of great evil. We might join in a developed cause, but to knowingly walk towards what is likely one's death to change a system you know you’ll actually have very little effect on...that takes a very special kind of person. And while Glinda is a GOOD person, she is too much a cynic and too desperate to survive her crazy world to become that impossible standard of the Rebel or the Hero. She's just a flawed, scared girl, in circumstances she never dreamed she’d be in.

And then the craziest thing happens:

Rather than showing Glinda that she should have been brave and done what E and F did, the narrative instead goes and basically confirms all her darkest fears: Elphaba rebels...and her revolution fails, and Glinda loses her best friend to bitter hatred and insanity for most of Act 2. Fiyero decides to leave and do the right thing by going with Elphaba....and he is almost immediately murdered in a horrible, violent way as punishment for it. This can only reinforce for Glinda that the State/the System/the World is all-powerful, and she must bow to it.

But that's the most fascinating moment for her character, because the very moment she realizes the absolute overwhelming power of the system (March of the Witch Hunters) is also the very moment that chooses to die rather than perpetuating it. She leaves the City to approach Elphaba - whom Glinda thinks POSSIBLY WANTS TO KILL HER - and BEGS Elphaba to not die. Begs Elphaba to stop her self-sacrificial madness. Begs Elphaba to allow Glinda to sacrifice herself instead ("Then I'll go, I'll tell everybody the truth!" "No! They'll just turn against you!" "I DON'T CARE!" - this girl who is entirely motivated by survival is straight up throwing it all on the line ready to walk to her death at the hands of a mob with wide open, unblinking eyes)

And obviously, in doing so, she is making the same choice that Fiyero did earlier in the story, But the huge difference is that Fiyero is a classic case of a "dead from the beginning" character, and he does not have the same motivations as her. He starts as a nhilist already embracing death in Dancing Through Life and his character is not somebody who is desprate to survive - his character is driven by a desperation for a faith. And Elphaba (and her cause) is his faith that he happily martyrs himself for.

By contrast, Glinda is terrified of the system that is trying to kill her, and she is desperate to survive it. She sees the way it takes everything form her, again and again, destroying everything she loves - Elphaba, Fiyero, her own sense of goodness…

(And she is extremely genre-aware that she is in a tragedy: her world isn't fair, and she knows that Elphaba will fail. She knows this will all go wrong.)

But Glinda still has such strength of character that she - in the end - overcomes all of her fear, all of her weaknesses, and humbles herself at the pyre to join the people she loves so much in their fate. She both offers to die for Elphaba and she takes up Elphaba's work and dedicates her entire life to it, consequences be damned. And that comes from a place of ultimate love and goodness, despite all of her flaws and all the temptations dissuading her.

Because Glinda is not Elphaba or Fiyero - she isn't a starry-eyed optimistic rebel or a man with a obsessive, loving faith. She is just a girl. Just Emma. And she is extremely flawed, and has so many fears that push and pull at her in a way the other main characters do not experience. But despite being so painfully, humanly defective, her goodness allows her to do the right thing in the end.

tl;dr - the greatest thing about Glinda’s character is that she is flawed, and she is weak and makes all the wrong choices. But in the end, she humbles herself completely - to the point of offering her own life for Elphaba and taking the whole weight of the world on her shoulders despite all her fear - because she is ultimately good.

And thus in the end, she becomes the person that Elphaba so clearly sees her as throughout the story: good, caring, and able to make real change in the world. She will now try desperately to fully live up to Elphaba's incredible faith in her. And it's so heartbreaking and tragic, but also one of the best character arcs ever.

So I guess it's less "wants to stay safe in her bubble" and more "she sees no option other than to stay safe. The State/System is all-powerful and there is nothing she thinks she can do to change that. But the beauty of the character lies in her decision to step out of that bubble anyways."

—

BONUS: Glinda’s flaws in relation to her relationship with Elphaba

(Or why Gelphie is a devastating ship (romantically or not) but not in the way you think)

This section dedicated to the SJB/AA performance that just BREAKS ME.

Elphaba basically sees Glinda through some WILDLY rose-tinted glasses (which is just. such a fascinating insight into elphaba’s character). Which is why a good chunk of the fandom accepts it as fact that Glinda is ~not actually all that flawed~ or is somehow being forced to make the decisions she is (she is not. the narrative point of Fiyero’s character is to prove that lol)

Glinda is very much complicated and does make some truly terrible decisions. Elphaba just sees and believes the good in her, despite everything she does (because it’s also a fact of the story that - either platonically or romantically - she’s clearly a little in love with Glinda. (The passes she gives that girl…)). I don’t think her weird thing about Glinda is particularly rational, but it is undeniably all-consuming.

And that makes their relationship feel VERY human. Their flaws don't make them unworthy of each other’s love and respect and friendship. Elphaba's love of Glinda is pretty crazy in light of how much Glinda’s morals and choices differ from her own, but that’s the kind of love that real, sometimes illogical people have. Anybody trying to prove the logic or compatibility of the characters is kinda missing the point - it doesn’t make sense, and THAT’S how you know it’s love.

(Brief aside: similar to Elphaba’s obsession with Glinda, Fiyero is also irrationally obsessed with Elphaba. I mean, she kinda sucks at the whole revolution thing (she's trying!!) and he's clearly starry-eyed ignoring a LOT of her flaws lol. In contrast - for better or worse, Glinda does see Elphaba's flaws and calls them out, just as Elphaba sees Fiyero's flaws and calls him out. It’s a nice little circular relationship)

But…but….is it gay???

Sure. I think so - but I’m a lesbian who has shipped it since I was a preteen lol. But that’s also NOT THE POINT, and focusing on only the romantic angle of their relationship REALLY ignores just how layered and complex it is.

Taking off my squee shipping glasses for a minute: they’re fundamentally just two people in some version of an EXTREMELY intense relationship. I honestly think Glinda reads as a little terrified of how insanely intense her relationship is with Elphaba. She fears walking down that road and fully falling into that intense, all-consuming love. (And we literally learn why later through Fiyero’s ‘death’ and Elphaba’s insanity - love makes you do some crazy things, and Glinda can’t afford that in this world.)

Regardless of whether you interpret them romantically or not - it’s clear they’re very intense about each other and Glinda is very afraid that Elphaba is her weakness. Unfortunately, Elphaba is also her soulmate and the love of her life, and she’ll always come back again. That fact will ruin Glinda’s life in the end, but it will have been worth it for all the love that was there

262 notes · View notes