#i hate when my brain hurts so bad i cant even write

[mooncello]

I miss my boys. I know they'll be there once the dark finally passes. but. I fuckin' miss them.

[star-girl69]

Let Me Love You Like A Woman

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

synopsis: you and clarisse broke up two months ago, and when you’re selected to go on a mission together, clarisse just wants you to let her love you.

a/n: i feel feelings about this one….. anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

Let Me Love You Like A Woman - Lana Del Rey

******i want to make this clear: there is absolutely NO smut in this fic. terms like “fuck buddies” and “friends with benefits” are used but only bc i cant think of anything else lmao. all they do is makeout and it is suggestive at times but there is NO SMUT

warnings: this is so bad tbh, what is clarisse doing, she’s so confused my little ladybug, y/n my other ladybug is confused too, OH MY GOD THERES ONLY ONE BED, swearing, hate make out sessions but the hate is one sided, kissing obvi!, deep talks about our feelings which is hard for clarisse, angst, mentions of death blood and monsters, lovesick!! slightly desperate!!! clarisse my cutesy little ladybug, exes/enemies w benefits so like mentions of sex and such, very suggestive lol, as an actual server the restaurant scene hurt me to write lol, but for the plot, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The Big House is the one place in camp you’re really unfamiliar with. It’s not like you haven’t been there before, it’s just you don’t go there that often.

And unknown places scare you.

There’s hiding places you don’t know about, blind spots you aren’t aware of- corners and small secrets and rules that you haven’t learned yet.

You make your way up the steps and through the porch, the familiar part- you pass by the infirmary and the random office no one uses- until you make it to the connected gondola Chiron and Mr. D. spend most of their time at.

You’re about to turn and enter when a familiar figure appears in front of you.

It hurts to think about how you’ll always know it’s her.

She seems just as shocked to see you but covers it up quickly.

“Y/N,” she smirks, looking you up and down.

You stop, go to turn around and march off in the other direction when you remember you can’t.

Clarisse La Rue doesn’t deserve the dirt under your feet, even though she would probably eat it if you asked- charmspeak used or not.

“Clarisse,” you mumble, and she frowns. You never really called her by her name when you dated, and you know it bothers her now to hear you say it.

That’s exactly why you do it, of course, but the part of you that knows everything about her and will always love her squeezes at the sight of her poorly-hidden sad face.

She’s been slipping up lately. It warms your heart to know that’s because of you.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, genuinely curious.

As a cabin leader, it’s not unusual for Clarisse to be here. But she knows you’re scared of the unknown, and she knows it’s just not in your routine to come here.

“Dunno,” you shrug. “Got called here.”

Her eyes light up. “How funny, so did I.”

You roll your eyes, fighting against the parts of your body that want to run towards her and the parts that want to run away. Instead, you listen to your brain and feel her staring at you as you turn the corner into the gondola.

“Y/N, Clarisse,” Chiron greets with a pleasant smile, setting down a hand of cards face-down. You almost laugh at Mr. D’s disappointed look- Chiron isn’t the trainer of demigods for no reason.

“Yeah, yeah, welcome,” Mr D says, seeming entirely uninterested. You both stand there slightly awkwardly.

Chiron is known to be blunt, so he of course jumps right in.

“We have a mission for the two of you.”

“The two of us? Like, just the two of us?”

The words come out before you can stop them, fingers twisting together and mouth slamming shut. You’re fine, you try to tell yourself, even though your mind and body agree on one thing- being too close to Clarisse will just lead you right back to her.

Clarisse tries to hide her hopeful smile, but you see through it. You loved her for so long, of course you see through it.

“Uh… yes,” Chiron says. You clench your fists.

Mr D seems interested now, especially after your outburst.

“Oh,” he laughs. “I see.” He gestures between the two of you, “there’s bad blood.”

Chiron presses his lips together.

“Nothing that doesn’t make us capable of going on this mission,” Clarisse says, taking a step forward. She smiles at you, but doesn’t make a move to touch you. At least she knows some limits, even if they don’t matter now.

“Well,” Chiron continues, seeming to regret his decision but deciding it’s too late. “Y/N. Your charmspeak, I feel, will be extremely important to this mission. And, Clarisse, daughter of Ares- your skills in battle are nothing to scoff at. There is an item I require the retrieval of. A friend left it in a P.o. box in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. The journey is not particularly perilous, but being a demigod carries an affinity for danger.”

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I trust the two of you will be able to put aside your… ‘bad blood’ and complete your mission?”

Maybe this mission will be good for you. It certainly nowhere near the kleos of a quest, but more so gives you bonus points with Chiron. That could be helpful.

Clarisse looks at you.

“Oh, yes. Don’t worry.”

—-

“Y/N.”

You walk away from Clarisse pointedly, hoping she’ll take the hint.

You’ve decided you’ll do this quest. If you ever did want to be a cabin leader in the future- you either had to be well liked or the best. As a daughter of Aphrodite, you were already well liked- conversation and flattery came as easy to you as breathing.

Even before you learned how to use your charmspeak, you could sweet talk almost anyone into doing whatever you wanted. You really needed an A on that test? A few tears and some master manipulation- suddenly that A was yours.

But, Chiron needed to like you too.

You do this quest for him- which he choose you for- and then you earn even more of his respect.

It was such a simple exchange. It could be such a simple exchange, except if the girl hot on your heels wasn’t your partner.

She finally manages to grab your wrist and whip you back around so you’re facing her.

She smiles.

“I’ll always catch you, you know. No use in running, really.”

“At least I’ll go down fighting,” you say, looking anywhere but her eyes like portals that suck you in. She’s so close to you.

If this was the before you would wrap your arms around her neck and hers would go to your waist. Even if you were mad at her, she would press her body close to yours and kiss the corner of your lips- Clarisse made it her life’s mission to know every inch of you, and she succeeded. She would know the exact way to calm you down and get you to look at her and hear her out.

And most of the time you were being dramatic, or simply joking, and then she would kiss you and it would all be fine again.

Except it’s not the before. It’s the after, and your heart hurts being so close to her.

“What do you want, Clarisse?” you sigh.

“I just wanted to talk to you.”

Your chest blazes. “Go talk to literally anyone else.”

Her face hardens.

“How many times do I have to tell you before you understand that you are the only person I care about?”

You rip your hand away from her grip.

“Shut up,” you hiss, turning and walking away.

“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow at the gates,” you can feel her smile. “And then I’ll see you all on our mission, huh?”

“You’re crazy!”

—-

You walk into the Hermes cabin and fall face first onto your best friend Marley’s bed.

She looks up from her book and laughs.

“Oh, babe, what happened?” she asks, scratching the back of your scalp as you pull yourself up into your elbows and place your head in her lap.

“Mission,” you groan.

She stops. “A mission? For Chiron? Gods, Y/N that’s amazing-”

“With Clarisse.”

She takes her hand away from your scalp and moves to your chin, lifting you up.

As much as Clarisse hurt you and you hate her, Marley had always had a special sort of hatred for her. Even when you were happy and dating- you would tease her that maybe she’s actually a daughter of Ares, seeing how angry she was.

She was always overprotective, she insisted she just had a bad feeling about her- but eventually she stopped and you thought you could have it all.

“I’m sorry,” Marley laughs. “I don’t think I heard you right.”

You put your lips right up to her ear.

“MISSION WITH CLARISSE-”

“Y/N!” she yells and pushes you away, groaning as she holds her ear. “My ears are bleeding now, oh my Gods-”

“You’ll be fine,” you groan, settling back into her lap. “I’m the one who actually has to go with her.”

“Actually?” she whispers after a tense moment. “You actually have to go with her?”

“It’s fine,” you mumble.

“It’s not. Maybe I-I can talk to Chiron, or maybe I could come with you, huh?”

“No, thanks, Marls. It’s alright, really.”

She stares down at you, head tilted slightly to the side. Marley has always been exceptionally good at hiding her emotions. But you can tell she’s angry. She’s scared.

She’s your best friend and you will always love her in the most special way.

“I don’t want you to go,” she whispers.

The Hermes cabin is always a bustle of activity. But when you’re just here with Marley, it’s the two of you. It’s perfect. It’s what you’ve always wanted- selfishly- to feel special. You feel special with her eyes on you, your head in her lap. She’s your best friend.

You put your hand on her face.

“As much as I hate it, we both know Clarisse won’t let anything happen to me. I’ll be safe.”

“Yeah, but what if she does something to you?”

What if she does absolutely nothing and you fall in love with her all over again?

You always thought that all that stuff about feeling your heart physically break couldn’t be true- but you know it is. You felt it break and every time you look at Clarisse and it can’t be like it was before your heart breaks a little more.

Clarisse acted like you were some big secret that was a chore to hide, and then when you were in her arms she would call you the prettiest girl. It was like whiplash, feeling her touch so tenderly and then not even being allowed to look at her in public. And you wanted so badly to tell everyone that she was yours and you were hers- but she just couldn’t.

And you don’t care about the reason behind that, not after that one night, not after she told you she could never love you.

She doesn’t really want you. She acts like she does, but she only misses you on the surface. Sure, you miss her body, but you miss your late night talks and the way she was always there to protect you, the way she made you feel. You like the person you are with her.

She wants an idea of you, she wants you under her, she wants power and control.

You think maybe a part of her really does regret losing you that night. But, she laid it all out that night. What she feels doesn’t make up for what she said. She doesn’t love you because she’s insecure, because she’s self-serving and power hungry.

She makes you feel stupid waiting for her, but why would you wait for someone else when you could wait for her to come back? You don’t like the unknown, and Clarisse is the one thing you really know.

You look into Marley’s eyes now.

“It will be good for me,” you whisper. “I’ll earn Chiron’s respect.”

Marley kisses your cheek.

“I know. I just don’t want you to go, and I know that makes me selfish but- still.”

“I know, Marls. I know,” you whisper. But this will be good for you, and it’s already been done. You already accepted it.

Marley helps you pack and you watch her anger. You watch her roughness, you watch the fire in her eyes- and Gods, does it make you feel special to have a friend like her.

You only wish you could make Clarisse feel like that too.

—-

The bus ride is boring.

Clarisse, for some merciful reason, decides not to torture you and instead throw her dagger up and down.

But you’re bored.

You’ve been reading a book Marley lended you, something boring and wonderfully distracting about the history of the four wind gods- you think about the wind and not about the way Clarisse’s thigh is pressed up next to yours.

It’s only been two months.

As much as you hate it, you won’t even admit it to Marley, but you’ll admit it to yourself in the quietness of the back of the bus.

You close the book and stuff it into your backpack.

You miss her.

“I’m bored,” you announce before you can second guess yourself.

“Okay,” Clarisse hums, picking at a speck of hardened dirt on her dagger. “I know a lot of things we could do to remedy that.”

Your cheeks flush, but you hold your ground. “I’m not going to kiss you. One, it smells like shit back here and two, we’re not dating anymore.”

“True, but doesn’t that just make it more fun?”

“What?”

Her hand moves to your thigh and you let yourself sink into the before.

“We aren’t supposed to- your best-fuckin’-friend would skin me alive. But we both know you want to.”

“I don’t want my lips anywhere near you.”

She just smiles at you, and you suddenly realize you’ve been staring into her eyes this entire time.

She takes her hand off of you and turns away, and this part of you aches so badly for the before- but it’s after. But she doesn’t love you and she just wants you.

But you want her too. You want her so bad, and maybe if you just let yourself sink into her one more time then you can move on. One good goodbye and you’ll be fine.

“Take a nap, then,” she suggests. “We still have another hour before the next rest stop, I’ll wake you up.”

“Okay,” you mumble, a part of you loathing listening to her, but a nap sounds good.

—-

You sleep the best you ever have since you broke up.

Clarisse was always sneaking into your bed, or you into hers, and she was always so warm and made you feel so safe. You always slept with her. And while you could still fall asleep fine without her- it just wasn’t the same.

You wake up to the sound of the bus doors opening and people talking around you.

“Y/N,” Clarisse whispers. “Wake up.”

You realize your head is on her shoulder.

You push her away from you, she just laughs and stands up.

“So stubborn,” she mumbles, leaning down to dig into her bag for the money Chiron gave you.

You resist the urge to say something snarky back, instead choosing to squeeze past her and out into the aisle.

She’s following behind you in a second, her bag zipping up and getting thrown back under the seat.

She’s right up in your ear.

“I know you hate me,” she whispers. “But you can’t just go running off. What if there was a monster right outside the doors?”

The two of you step off of the bus, the bright sunshine making your squint.

You pull up your shirt and pat your hip where your dagger rests.

“I’d kill it.”

You both know you probably couldn’t.

She laughs. “Is that the dagger I gave you?”

Your face freezes but you keep walking into the rest stop.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huff.

She sticks her fingers through the loop of your jeans and pulls you into an aisle filled with chips. You suddenly find a bag of Cheetos very interesting.

She looks at your face, into your eyes, and traces her fingers over the dagger’s handle.

“Hm, mine.”

You miss her so bad. You never knew it was possible to miss someone this much. You miss her body and her mind and her voice. You miss her hands and her lips and the way she made you feel.

You don’t pull away. How can you pull away?

It was easy to ignore her when she wasn’t right in front of you, but there’s this part of you that loves her and wants to believe her. Then there’s another part that wants to see her suffer like she did to you.

You push her off of you. “Don’t touch me.”

Again, she just smiles, and that’s really starting to piss you off.

—-

You’re somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania at a bus stop, waiting to cross the lonesome highway to the other side of the street where a train station awaits you.

“Are you okay?” Clarisse asks, and you realize she’s already stepped out onto the road and you’ve been staring off into nothing. You quickly follow her, half running across the road until you get to the sweet, sweet air conditioned station.

“Yeah, ‘m fine.”

In reality, you have to keep yourself distracted so you don’t fall back into her. You’ve decided it not about whether or not you love or want to hear her out- it’s about the way she kisses you and the way her skin feels against yours.

You can want her, here, where no one will know.

You’ll swear her to secrecy, and she’ll shut up just for the chance of more. And you don’t know if you’ll give it to her.

The station is oddly busy.

You have this horribly uneasy feeling.

You make your way into the line anyways, snatching the tickets from where they’re scrunched up in her hand, trying your best to flatten them again.

She laughs. You refuse to feel the way it makes your heart ache. You think about the other reasons she makes your heart ache.

You see something, shiny and black out of the corner of your eye. When you look over, the indented entrance to a janitor’s closet is marked in shadows.

But you trust yourself.

“I think I just saw something,” you whisper.

She still makes you feel safe. She’s one of the most talented warriors at camp and she loves you- even Marley admitted she won’t let anything happen to you.

She follows your gaze. And she doesn’t see anything.

“Okay,” she murmurs. She trusts you too. Her eyes flick between the shortening line and the shadows. “Maybe one more minute then we’re on the train.”

“Yeah,” you agree, slipping your hand into hers. You can hear her inhale sharply. She’s not phased by a potential monster, but you holding her hand makes her face flush.

Why is she so fucking confusing?

As far as you can tell, she just wants to be fuck buddies- so why is she blushing as you hold her hand?

She squeezes your hand, and Clarisse is right, you make it to the front of the line. The man checks your tickets and hole punches them, welcoming you back into the outdoors.

You look over your shoulder, and something shiny reflects in the sunlight, still in the shadows of the building.

“Clarisse.”

She seems to see it too.

“I can’t tell what it is,” you say.

She tugs you along. “I don’t want to find out.”

When you finally step foot onto the train you take your hand from Clarisse’s and look down at the tickets. Cabin 4A. It’s near the front, so you find it fairly quick- just a simple one room cabin.

You quickly barricade yourself inside, drawing the curtains and setting your stuff on the floor.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“That was tense,” you mutter. Clarisse holds her wrist. She nods, staring down at your feet before sighing.

Somehow, it’s six o’clock. You dig into your snacks, neither of you feeling like leaving the safety of the cabin to go to the dining cart.

The train car has two benches facing each other, overhead storage and a large window. There’s practically no room in between the two benches- the car is maybe 5 feet wide.

You miss Marley. You could always talk to her from across the pavilion during a meal- entire conversations with just your eyes. You miss your siblings, their conversation filling up the silence. Here, there’s nothing.

It’s so silent, and yet it’s that comfortable silence with Clarisse. It makes you miss the before.

That’s all you’ve been doing- missing things and wishing they were different.

The train starts and you stare out the window, the rolling hills and the trees and the small creek. You can feel Clarisse looking at you. You try your best to ignore the way her gaze makes you feel- but you’re alone in this cabin. There’s no one else here. There’s no one else to know if you give in one time.

Something slams against the door.

You breathe in and Clarisse grabs her spear.

“Should I open it?” you whisper, standing up. She sticks out her spear to stop you from moving forward.

The two of you listen, but nothing else happens.

It wasn’t a knock. It sounded sort of like a ball being kicked into the door.

“I’m opening it,” you decide, curiosity killing you, pushing Clarisse’s spear aside.

“Y/N,” she warns, but you’ve already slid open the door.

Absolutely nothing is there. You look out the adjacent windows, down the hallways lined with red carpet.

You shrug. “Nothing’s here-”

It’s cold and scaly when it lands on you.

The same black shiny thing you saw, it’s slithering around your neck, cutting off your air supply immediately. You can’t even scream you’re too scared, hands clawing at your neck but it squeezes and one of its heads rears up to attack your chest-

Clarisse’s spear sails right through its raised head.

It drops, you fall back, gasping, watching as she pins it under her boot and lifts the spear out of it. It’s wriggling and trying to break free- but she stabs it through its other head.

It’s an amphisbaena. A horrible, scaly black snake-sort of thing with a head on each end.

You rub your chest, swallowing a lump in your throat as Clarisse casually picks up the now dead monster and opens the adjacent emergency exit window in the hallway- throwing it out into the middle of nowhere.

She turns back around, frowning at the blood coating the ends of her spear-

You slam into her. You’re breathing so heavily, you still feel like it’s around your neck, but Clarisse carefully wraps her arms around your waist, letting you lean against her as your shaky hands massage your neck.

No one would know.

Her spear falls to the floor.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s dead,” she whispers, kicking the cabin door closed with her foot.

No one would know.

“Thank you,” you breathe. “Oh, Gods, thank you, Clarisse.”

“No problem,” she says.

No one would know.

“Clar,” you mumble. She stiffens at the nickname. She tenderly brings one hand up to your face, and she wants you just as much as you want her- that’s all this is about. An exchange. You’ll kiss her for the last time and you’ll finally get over her.

“I know,” she mumbles, she feels the burning in her stomach too. You’re connected by that in this one moment, your mutual desire and need. Except she has a need for a new beginning, and you have a need for an end.

It’s so simple.

You both can get what you want from this trip.

“I know,” she says again, her nose touching yours. Your breaths mix in the air. “I know, I miss you so much… so bad, Y/N, you don’t…”

“Show me,” you whisper against her lips, and she does.

You can feel it all, the regret you don’t care about, and the desire and want and need you do care about.

You need to feel more of that. You need to feel special, so when your back hits the the door and her hands are all over you, you tilt your head back and look up at the ceiling, mouth twisted into a moan.

You need her to make you feel special. You don’t feel special without her, without her rough hands and her soft lips. It’s the one trait from your mother that you somewhat despise- the innate need to be the center, to be the focus, to feel special. She’s the only one who has ever made you feel like this.

No one else will ever come close.

“I hate you,” you breathe. You can’t think, all your walls are down. “I hate you so much and I still…. I still…”

She kisses you again so you don’t have to say it.

—-

The bed is scratchy and uncomfortable, but there’s only one- and it’s so tiny you’re pressed right up against Clarisse. She doesn’t wrap her arm around you, even though you wish she would, if only because you’re cold.

Not because you’re still irrecoverably in love with her and you know she won’t. And even if she does, it won’t be in the way you want it.

How can she kiss you like she loves you yet claim she never will? How can one kiss make you so weak in the knees that you’re genuinely considering doing this for any scrap of her you can get?

You stare up the ceiling for a long time, until you come to that weird space where you’re so tired you can’t move and your eyes are closed, but you’re still awake.

She wraps her arm around your waist and kisses your temple.

—-

The next time she kisses you you’ve gotten used to this whole making out with no strings thing.

You’re about to get off the train, so you tidy your stuff and head to the dining cart for pretty pastries and bagels and some fruit. On your way back, maybe 15 minutes left in your ride, someone in a uniform sees two teenage girls heading alone into a room.

When he asks where your parents are, can he see your tickets, you panic and charmspeak him to forget he ever saw this and walk away.

“Close,” you laugh, and Clarisse mumbles some sort of noncommittal agreement before smashing her lips onto yours.

You gasp but kiss her back, just reveling in having her hands on you. Her hands tangle in your hair, tugging back so she has better access to your neck- the side of it already sporting a hickey from last night.

“Did I ever tell you how fucking hot you are when you use your charmspeak?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble, because you can’t think of anything when her lips are on your neck.

—-

The station is luckily only 20 minutes away from the P.o. box, so the walk is quick through the streets of Myrtle Beach. It’s so loud here. There’s cars constantly whizzing past you, people yelling and honking, sirens in the distance. It’s confusing. It’s so different from Camp.

“I fucking hate this place,” you mumble, fidgeting with a loose string on your backpack.

“I do too,” Clarisse answers, but not for the same reasons. Her eyes whip around, searching for anything hiding in the shadows- but the sky is so blue and the sun makes your skin so warm- it seems unfathomable that any monsters would be here.

Of course, they’re here. They just haven’t come out yet.

Clarisse has been angry at the world for as long as you can remember, but you always thought her roughness balanced out with your softness. Ares and Aphrodite, love and war, peace and violence.

You always thought you could bring out that little bit of softness in her.

“On your left!”

Clarisse drags you out of the way just for a man on a bike to speed past you- your eyes flick to the perfectly usable bike lane on the street.

“Asshole,” you mutter.

“Asshole!” Clarisse shouts after him at the same time. He flips you off and continues shouting at more people to move.

Her hand is digging into your arm. She lets go after she huffs, muttering a few more choice words.

She keeps glaring at every honking car and random pedestrian. You roll your eyes when she yells at some random car to go die, laughing.

“Always fuckin’ honking,” she mutters. You know if she ever got behind the wheel, she would do the exact same thing.

“You’re not any better,” you tell her, nudging her hand that’s currently balled up into a fist.

“Yeah, well, I have a reason to be mad.”

Clarisse is angry at the world, but you know she has reasons. She’s not just angry for the sake of being angry, although she finds comfort in the familiar just like you, she is angry at the world that has done nothing but wrong her time and time again.

Sometimes you wish you could have as much fire in you as her. And two months ago, you thought she had enough fire in her for the both of us.

“Why don’t we grab the box and then go to lunch?” you suggest, getting the feeling that Clarisse is about to explode. She looks at you. “We have a few hours until our train back, hm?”

“Yeah, okay.”

—-

Chiron said this mission wasn’t going to be that dangerous, but you are surprised when it really is that easy. You take the key out from the envelope Chiron gave you, opening the blue box and coming out with a small box. It almost looks like some sort of fancy necklace- a long black box with a silver bow on the outside.

“This feels too easy,” Clarisse says as you lean down to carefully place it in your bag.

You shrug. “You’re always so paranoid, just let it all come naturally. Some things are easy, Clar.”

She stares at you for a moment.

“I guess,” she says, sticking out her hand to help you up before you both make your way back out onto the streets.

Her spear is hidden by the mist, strapped to her back, and you’re sure she has a bunch of little daggers strapped all over her. You scan the busy street.

Clarisse snorts at a restaurant called “Mother Earth Green Food” and her eyes light up at the sight of a 80’s style diner- “Mr. Steve’s Burgers and Bacon”.

“We’re going there,” she declares, and you roll your eyes but follow her across the street. It’s not that busy, seeing as it’s still early, so you’re seated quickly. It feels so good and so wrong to be here across from her like this.

It feels like before. Except some sort of alternate reality, where you actually left camp and got to be like this. You still want her and your trip’s not over yet, so you sink into it.

“Hey guys, I’m Miley and I’ll be your server today. What can I get you for drinks?”

She’s got long dirty blonde hair, tied up in two very neat and impressive space buns. Her skin is tan, but you suppose if she lives near the beach then everyone’s skin is tan, really.

“I really like your hair,” you tell her, pointing to the side of her head. She smiles and bounces one of them in her hand.

“Took me forever,” she chuckles. “I love yours, such a pretty color.” You cheeks blush as you thank her.

She smiles at you and goes off to get them, so you turn back to your menu. Clarisse’s foot taps against the floor.

“What are you thinking of getting?”

She sets her menu down and points to some sort of monstrous burger called “The Bomb.”

You laugh. “The Bomb,” you mock. “Will it explode in your stomach, or something?”

She mumbles something under her breath, staring off towards the counter, and you can tell by the look on her face it’s not anything nice.

“What was that?”

She presses her lips together. “Nothing,” she hums.

You shoot her an odd look but she pointedly looks away, and as much as you want to, you decide not to push.

Miley comes back with your drinks, and you thank her as she sets them down. Clarisse mumbles a thank you too after you kick her foot.

“Okay, and what can I get you guys to eat today?”

You have to kick Clarisse again to remind her to say please.

You smile apologetically up at Miley for Clarisse’s sour mood, but she seems not to care, smiling back at you and saying something about how she’ll make sure it’s out quick for you.

“‘I’ll make sure it comes out quick for you,’” Clarisse mocks, her voice a pitch higher.

“Yeah. Isn’t she so nice? And yet here you are treating her like shit.”

“She’s sucking up for a good tip.”

“Or maybe she’s just nice, Clarisse. There are nice people in the world, you know. Not everyone is all dark and brooding or bitchy.”

The silences stretches for a second too long. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

You hum, sitting on your hands and staring out the window. It’s times like this your miss your mortal childhood, having access to electronics meant you were never bored. You debate taking out the book Marley loaned you, but you don’t get the chance to.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Clarisse announces. “Come with me.” She’s already walking away.

“Who’s gonna watch our stuff?”

“Tell fuckin’ Miley to do it, I don’t care.”

You look around. There’s not many people in the restaurant, and you’re curious and bored- so you follow her. The door swings closed behind her, and it takes you a second to follow her in.

You think she’s disappeared, the bathroom empty with two open stalls. The door is kicked closed behind you. You turn around and Clarisse pushes you into the nearest bathroom, her hands on your waist- you moan in surprise, letting her flip the two of you around and press you against the door, her hand leaving your waist to make quick work of the lock.

“Clarisse,” you breathe. “What’s going on?”

“Do you want me to stop?”

You don’t answer and she kisses you deeper.

—-

“Clarisse.”

She’s been smiling at your neck a little too obviously, and when she finally lets you out from under her lips and hands, you immediately turn around and head for the mirror.

“Clarisse,” you repeat.

She’s looking at you in the mirror and smiling. Actually fucking smiling.

“What is wrong with you?!” you yell, turning on the cold water and frantically bringing it to the red hickies on your neck. “Are you a vampire? Oh, my Gods, Clarisse, this is so fucking embarrassing!”

“It’s not,” she huffs. “You’ll be fine.”

“Cl-” but she’s already left. She really has to stop doing that.

—-

Lunch is fine, you leave Miley a nice tip, even though Clarisse scoffs and mumbles that she wasn’t that good- but you feel so bad that she had to watch you wiggle in your seat, desperately trying to hide your neck as Clarisse ran her foot up and down the side of your leg.

You ignore her the entire walk to the station, she barely hides the smug look on her face. Is she just intent on making you seem stupid and weak? Does she want to embarrass you? She knows. She knows you’re still in love with her and she’s playing you like a fiddle.

You thought Clarisse to be a lot of things, and you know she’s cruel and ruthless- but you never thought she could be this way towards you.

You make it onto the train with no problems, and you’re desperate to just get out of this place and back to camp where you can ignore her. You had one last final hurrah, and now you need to forget her.

You stare pointedly out the window. You ate dinner in the dining cart in silence, Clarisse didn’t try to touch you again, but she seems bored of letting you sulk now that there’s nothing else to entertain her.

It’s only about 7:00 pm- you still have an entire night with her, and a bus ride the next day. Why are the Gods torturing you like this?

“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You’re sitting across from each other. Her foot kicks at yours. “C’mere,” she pats the space next to her on the bench.

You snort. “You’re crazy. I’m not sitting near you.”

She shrugs and stands up, sitting next to you while you gasp in exasperation.

“Bitch,” you mumble, clenching your fists at you stand. She plants her hand on the window, trapping you in with her arm.

“Don’t be mean.”

You fold your arms and stare out the window. She’s right at your shoulder, whispering in your ear even though your alone- it makes you feel so special your head gets all dizzy.

“I want you, Y/N.” Not the way you want her.

“I. Don’t. Care.”

She laughs. You can see her reflection in the mirror, she’s laughing and smiling fondly- staring at you.

You whip around and point your finger at her.

“I won’t let you treat me like a rag doll anymore.”

Her smile falls.

“I used to be something you could just swing around, but I’m not anymore. I won’t ever be a toy for you, Clarisse. These past two days were fun, but they were goodbye. When we get back to Camp I’m getting over you, because I’ve spent too much time waiting for you.”

Her hand falls from the window, and she backs away from you.

—-

When you realize that this train also features another small, single bed, you resist the urge to stomp your feet like a child. Instead, you pretend like it’s all fine, a part of you pretends it’s that alternate before- Clarisse turning around while you change and you leave to brush your teeth and then you come back to her in bed.

You lay down, body unwillingly pressed up against hers. She doesn’t touch you, at least, and it’s tense and silent until she breaks it. Her hand finds yours through the sheets and blankets.

“Y/N.”

You try to shake her hand off of you, mumbling that she’s using your tiredness to manipulate you.

“Do you really think that’s all you were to me?”

You’re frozen, she’s right up against your back, breath tickling your shoulder and voice in your ear again.

Your hand still fits perfectly in hers.

“A toy?”

“What else was I supposed to think?”

She utters the two words you never thought you would hear her say.

“I’m sorry.”

Your breathe hitches.

“I-I know I’ve been stupid, I’m not totally dumb. I just, I had it in my head that I could make you fall in love with me all over again. And then I could do it right, I could fix it, and you could teach me how to love you and I would do it right, Y/N. And then I… I got jealous. Because that fucking server was flirting with you, she was, and I got fucking jealous and I fucked it all up.”

She’s breathing heavily at your shoulder.

“I was scared, Y/N. And that… I didn’t know how to deal with that. I was scared because I love you so much I know I would do anything you asked me too. So, I said those stupid things that night, I just lied because I was scared, and I’ll never forgive myself for the way I made you feel. I don’t deserve another chance, but I want to show you that I can do it right. I can do it however you want me too, as long as you teach me.”

It’s silent for a moment.

“I want you to let me love you.”

She lets go of your hand.

“You don’t have to say anything, I guess,” she swallows. “I mean, if I was you I would have killed me-”

“Really?” you voice comes out like a broken whisper, sitting up so you can look into her eyes. You try to tell if she’s lying, but you can’t. It hurts and it aches so good and she’s not lying.

“Y-yeah, I would have killed me.”

You smile. “No, dumbass, do you really love me?”

“Oh,” she blinks, sitting up too. “Y/N, I love you so much that I’ll never be the same person again.”

You don’t want to kiss her. All you’ve been doing is kissing her, sinking into that hard and rough side of your relationship that’s just hot desire.

But there’s a soft part to Clarisse that you bring out. And you bring it out now, winding your arms around her neck, breathing heavily as you rest your head on her shoulder. She hugs you, her arms are so strong, she always gives the best hugs- and kisses your temple like she did when she thought you were sleeping.

She loved you even when she didn’t know you would feel it.

Your fingers dig into her back.

“I love you,” she says again, softly, like she’s caressing the words with such a reverence that they were bathed in golden ichor. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too,” you say back, you let her love you, and it’s the most true thing you’ve ever known.

—-

“Ah, young warriors!” Chiron says, holding his hands out.

Of course, on the tail end of your trip you had encountered tons of little monsters- more amphisbaena, even a juvenile drakon that could barely spit acid. Clarisse had made a dazzling show of killing all of them, and unlike the first amphisbaena- none of them got close enough to touch you.

You had to charmspeak the train conductor, the police officer at the station, and the bus driver. You wonder faintly if your mother had been looking out for you, helping you love Clarisse again.

Of course, all of those instances ended in Clarisse pulling you into the nearest corner.

It’s different, now that you know that you live each other. She still kisses you with that rough deepness, like she’s starved, like she’s trying to breathe you in, but her hands are so soft around you. She holds your waist close to you, not like she just wants to feel you body, but like she just wants to be close to you.

You swing your backpack off of your shoulder, you can feel your mascara smeared down your face from the heat, digging into your bag for the black box.

Chiron smiles and holds his hands out for you to place them in. “You have my thanks,” he says, laying the box into his hand.

You’re surprised when all he does is take out a simple pen. It looks like a nice pen, sure, but still just a pen.

He uncaps it, letting it fall to the concrete, when it suddenly transforms into a sword. You yelp and jump back, Clarisse puts her arm in front of you, and Chiron laughs triumphantly.

“Beautiful!” he says, admiring the carefully crafted sword.

Mr. D dissolves into a fit of laughter. “No more bad blood, huh?”

Clarisse drops her hand from where it reaches for her spear, and her other arm from across your body. Her hands drop to her sides, her face turns back into a mask of indifference and she shrugs.

Mr. D seems to find that even more funny, and Chiron dismisses you with a wave of his hand, staring in awe at the silver sword.

Clarisse presses her lips together into a tight line until you smack a kiss on her cheek.

“Love you,” you sing, and her face breaks out into a wide smile. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and it’s the only thing you ever want to know. All you need to know is her and her love.

—-

marley when she finds out clarisse and y/n are dating again: if you EVER and i mean EVER hurt her again i will torture you in ways not even imagined yet.

clarisse: ok yes i promise 😟😟

—-

clarisse when she realized she was in love with y/n: NO NO NO NO NEW FEELINGS NO I REJECT THIS AND I MUST RUN AWAY IN FACT THIS WILL NOT HAPPEN NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

also clarisse when she realized she just broke up with y/n: OH GODS NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO WHAT HAVE I DONE NO NO NO NO PLEASE NO NO NO

—-

honorable mention to y/n fuck em’ and hate em’ l/n

another honorable mention to clarisse “none of them got close enough to hurt you” la rue

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish

@sincerely-silk @lacytalks

—-

pls ignore it’s for the acc aesthetics thank you!!

[indigo-greer-collins]

you guys ever can’t tell if you kin a character or need them more? damien’s been rotting my brain recently.

(excuse my projecting for a little) he’s aware of so much of the injustice in the magical world; and he’s passionate about it. but everyone keeps mistaking his passion for justice as anger. the world, the environment he’s in frightens him. the injustice he’s witnessed time and time again, towards the people he cares about the most is exhausting and frustrating. he burns with the desire to help all the people this magical society keeps pushing aside.

but all people will ever see is that he’s “angry”.

but that’s not all it is! he wants change. he wants to believe in something, he wants to believe in people, he wants to have some trust in the systems he’s under but because he wants it so badly he’s “aggressive”. he’s “hostile”. he’s “grumpy”. they even say he has a “bad attitude”.

nobody wants to work with him because he keeps getting “angry”.

so now he’s growing more and more isolated. he looks to his left and to his right and no one seems to care as much as he does. everyone at the top just sees him as some kind of number or statistic. his fellow numbers think he’s insane for caring so much.

but why does everyone care so little?? people are hurt?? people are being silenced, people are ignored, lives are being destroyed — at the worst of it people are dying. and no one is doing anything about it! is he really insane for wanting life to be easier for everyone when it literally has no reason to be this difficult??

is that not enough reason to be upset? doesn’t he have a right to be angry??

you know what fine. he can’t control how people feel right? nothing’s gained from sitting around and feeling sorry for yourself so he picks himself up and charges towards the society he aims for. he keeps his record spotless, he achieves everything he needs to, he breaks himself in half so that his friends, family, future generations will be a step closer to something easier. he can honour those before him who got him this far and pass the baton to those who come next.

then one watery fucking twink. with no aspirations. with his pessimistic, apathetic, nihilism, fucks up his pristine plans.

he can feel everything he put into this, crash and burn in his hands (at the hands of a water elemental no less). how could he have been so careless?? how did he let this slip?? he held everything together so well before and this guy ruined it without a second thought.

he didn’t care. he was willing to let everything go to ruin. he left everybody for themselves - he didn’t believe in any sort of community or empowerment, hell he probably had some hatred to all those people damien was trying so hard to fucking help. pretentious douchebag — kody thought he was better than everybody else.

so yes. he’s angry.

he hates the stereotypes. he hates the relentless teasing. he hates the whispers and the side eyes when the fire elemental shows even an ounce of irritation.

but he was finally giving in. he was finally falling right into the hands of what he wanted to avoid. to the injustice he frowned upon.

you happy now? yes, he is fucking angry. why the hell aren’t you?

(and scene)

(p.s i don’t know what possessed me to write all this out but fuck it, i had fun)

(p.p.s HIS PASSION IS SO SEXY I CANT TELL IF I WANT HIM OR WE’D BURST INTO FIREWORKS CUZ WE’RE SO SIMILAR)

[elliezlils11utt]

Bad idea - girl in red. (E.W)

content: You cant get your on & off ex, Ellie Williams, out of your head. So you decide to call her over.

song link: https://open.spotify.com/track/57j65yC2HggQfmYNc6rdOK?si=2416f86b42e84be8

warnings: nsfw, hate sex, angst, smut, mean!ellie, degration, reader is a hot shit mess. (me!) if i missed anything lemme know!

a/n: Im still sick asf and my phone is broken so ive kinda just been writing the past few days. this is not my best work, like at all. (its so bad) but the storyline is kinda interesting. (based on "bad idea"- girl in red)

proofread?: none of my work is ever proofread lmao.

You and Ellie had been broken up for a couple months now. But of course you had not been able to get her slick ass smile out of your head. She plagued your thoughts, being the only thing you could think of. She was the worst partner you could ever have. But, god was she ethereal. 

So when you sat at the edge of your bed with her image glued to the inside of your eyelids you picked up your phone. Was this a bad idea? Probably. Did you care? Nope. You sat there staring at the past messages. The fights, then the make up texts. Then more fucking fights. 

You squeezed your eyes shut. Contemplating the mistake you were about to make. Its like she was a fucking drug you were addicted too. You couldn't get enough of her, even If you tried. Which you really did this time. Really hard. This had been the longest you and Ellie had stayed apart. Ever. You always somehow ended up back with her. Ignoring the pleas of your family and friends to dump her ass for good this time. It was a bad idea, to think you could stop. Because now here you were, your phone up to your ear with Ellie on the other line. 

“Hey, ellie?” You stumble over your words. 

“Hey.” Fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Her voice.  

“Uh- um. What are you doing right now?” 

“Nothing.”

“Wanna come over? Like, for a smoke.” bad idea, bad idea, bad idea. 

What you can only assume is an amused chuckle muffles the phone line. “Sure.” 

“Kay, cool! Uh, see you soon?”

“Mhm.” 

The line ends abruptly. Oh fuck. Ellies coming over. Again. Fuck why did you do that? Your totally fucked now. You spend the following minutes pacing around your house. One little horny butt dial can turn into a series of bad decisions. You knew this. Yet Ellie is sitting across from u on your coach. Blunt in mouth, eyes on u. 

“You know, ive missed us.” she admits while passing the weed to you. You take a drag of the blunt, ignoring her blatant attempt to ‘win you back’ (it was working)

“Why did you call me over..?” 

“You want the truth?”

She just stares back at you with those droopy red eyes of hers. Those gorgeous fucking eyes that got you into this mess in the first place. 

“Im horny. and i missed you.” Smoking always makes the whole truth come out of you. Even if you didn't want it to. 

“Yeah?” There it is. That cocky lopsided smirk. 

“Yeah.” Blowing the smoke out of your mouth you lean closer to her. And she does the same. The tension makes the air thick and foggy. A competition to see who will break first. (that she always wins) and surly this time was no different. You close the gap between you two. Pressing your lips onto hers. She cups your face with her hands, desperately pulling you farther into her. She put her hands under your shirt. Undid your bra and said these words. “Darlin you're so pretty it hurts” breaking the kiss she pulls your shirt over your head. And threw your clothes down on the floor. Your brain goes numb. Allowing Ellie to take complete control. All you can think about is her lips on yours. Too busy thinking about the wet kisses trailing down your neck to worry about the consequence to this pleasure. 

She said “darling are you ready for more?” Her hands found your tits rubbing the fatty flesh in her hands while she kissed your collarbones. Her lips pecked kisses down your body. Her tattooed hand slipped down and into your painties, feeling your heat. her finger explored your slippery folds. You throw your head back while whimpers leave your mouth. She plunges a finger into your sopping cunt. “F- Fuck els” 

 “Yeah? You like that pretty girl? You missed my fingers, yeah?” 

You just nod repeatedly. Another finger finds its way into your cunt. Her digits curl into you relentlessly. 

“Words baby.” 

“Fuck els. Yes. y- yes.” You moan 

“Fucking slut.” she chuckles before returning her mouth onto your tit. Her tongue swirling around your pebbled bud and her fingers pumping in and out of your pussy makes your back arch. But you can't help but be pissed at yourself for letting her bring you this pleasure after the pain she caused you. This is wrong. You shouldn't be doing this.  “Fuck, fuck, fuck, ellie. Ellie stop.” you push her head away.

“What's wrong? I thought you wanted this.” 

“I do, I mean. At least I thought I did.” You quickly throw your shirt back on.

“I don't get it?”

“It was a bad idea, calling you up. I shouldn't have said anything. We are bad together ellie. I fucked up.” guilt rushes over you. You shouldn't have said anything. And that was the truth. You told yourself that you would never get back with Ellie again. Ever. You told yourself that you would never let ellie fuck you again. You told yourself that you wouldn't let Ellie get in your head again. “I need to be alone. Just, go? Please.” 

“Yeah alright. Call me when u wanna finish this, kay? Cause u always do” She says bluntly before rolling her eyes and leaving. A tear breaks free from your glossy eyes. Thats fucking problem. She thinks that you will call her again. Because ‘you always do.’ And she's not wrong. You always end up calling her again, Whenever u get lonely, or horny, or miss her. Who the fuck would miss Ellie, fucking, Williams? You. You miss her. Because you can't get enough. 

a/n: I apologize for this. :D

[alexandraisyes]

joining in on ranting in you're ask box part- uh- idk 3?? 4??? I dont even know anymore

Anyway, *cough* i think still have some of these left (edit: I just finished typing this all out and think is defiently an understatement-)

SolarNexus: Solar just goes off on Moon for how much he hates Nexus. Thats all I have for that. I'm sorry im this close to forcing myself to start writing fanfiction again just to write this. Also for my true loves kiss saves Nexus idea- and just to write about Nexus finding who he is instead of who he's supposed to be. .... can you tell i think about these two a lot? (Edit: I prove later that I think about them even more, and Eclipse)

BloodySun: I'm like feral for these two- just, like- Bloodmoon giving dead birds and stuff to Sun and he's absolutley digusted but trying not to hurt their feelings- i- ansusnhas

Servant Sun x Servant Eclipse: I've seen like 1 ship fic with these two but I dont care. I'm obsessed. They need to hold hands and heal and go to therapy together. Obviously Eclipse would defiently be able to help Sun more (cause lord Eclipse), but Sun could defiently help Eclipse too. (Is Eclipse faking losing his memories/being reset or some shit canon? I've read too much fanfiction- im going to assume it is for this) he can also help Eclipse learn that he doesn't have to be fake all the time and thatd be cute

Nexus x Dark Sun: I dont even have thoughts about this. Like I have feelings but I dont have thoughts. I cant even reason why I like this, I just like the toxic yaoi. I just like the concept of Dark Sun not even liking Nexus but manipulating him- like- Moon turned bad x biggest moon hater. I also just like hurting Nexus so other characters can help him heal. Only thing turning me off from this ship is that its an alternate universe of his ex-brother who would most likely be his brother again if he had a redemption arc. Like- I love seeing the ship and I like the concept just it gives me the ick, but thats okay cause I dong have to rot over every ship. Actually, I'm glad I'm not obsessed with this ship I dont need more angst living in my brain. ... I am obsessed with it in a platonic sense tho so I guess the angst is in my brain anyway

Nexus x Eclipse but its when they were looking for who made Eclipse: Nexus abolutley collared him. Im sorry. .. no im not, im right. Like, what is with Nexus and treating others like dogs??? Like first v4 Eclipse, and now Ruin??? Nexus is there anything you want to tell us??? Okay pet play- also doing that to the masochist is crazy, like if you're going to treat anyone like a dog why would it be Ruin that feels like setting yourself up for disaster. Even if he isn't actually a masochist he sure is known for pretending to be one

Nexus x any Eclipse ever: listen, im just saying I think he has a thing for Eclipse's (which is funny cause Moon fucking hates them) Treating Eclipse and Ruin like his dogs. Solar being his best friend. Even Dark Sun, who's a really smart Evil Sun who absorbed the knowledge of his Moon, so im counting him. Like I think Nexus would like being thrown around by Lord Eclipse, or helping to fix up Servant Eclipse. I'm just saying-

Eclipse ² x Nexus (gets its own section i rot about these three): them just reassuring the other's that they're loved and cared for- im sorry you can't tell me that these three don't all have some form of attachment issues- Eclipse being so used to people hating him that he kind of just instinctively pushes people away. Similar with Solar, but he does it more so emotionally while also feeling like he has to earn his place and do things for people. And Nexus also feels like he has to prove himself, and that he isn't good enough.

And they just reassure each other and then the others use their words against him (/pos) and they realize how stupid it sounds and anisnsusnsns <3<3 like- nexus being like "you don't have to prove yourself for anyone, Solar. We love you, you don't need to overwork yourself for us." And, like- solar saying it to him back- and Nexus is just like ".. okay listen-" and similar things happening with the other two and ensunsjss-

also they're the three worst at interaction (other than old Moon he takes the cake for worst at it, but its okay i love it)- like they're all pretty bad at it. Eclipse is Eclipse(aka memories as a villain, and is a sarcastic little shit), Nexus is just kind of awkward, and cmon Solar didn't really ever have any interaction after his split than his Moon and probaly kids, we know he can't talk to people easily. Honestly tho Solar is the best at it (he was able to start up a conversation with Moon easier than Moon could with him) and I imagine he's the one who orders at restaurants

And Moon hates both of Solar's boyfriends and Moon and Solar are friends and I think that's just kind of funny. Like Moon likes Solar so he doesn't stop being friends with him even though he's dating the two, but he's bitter about it (though honestly if Nexus had a redemption arc and it was proved he had a virus, I feel like Moon would hate him a little less. But he'd probaly still be insecure about Nexus probaly taking his place and everyone not really liking Moon again so he'd probaly still be an ass to him.)

Anyway they cuddle. Doesn't even have to be romantic, those three deserve to be in love (also the potential from forbidden love Eclipse² is Nausnsusnsn)

... I- shipping dynamics are neat

I apologize for making this so long, I expected it to be short and then I remembered I started to like new ships 😔

ALSO were being brave and doing this off anon (also id like you to know I genuinely just stared at my phone for a moment when I saw youd followed me lmao. I was so suprised [and delighted, you're neat]- plus it was like 4 am and I hadn't slept yet. I thought it was a dream the next day because I was that tired- I had to check cause i get very vivid dreams-)

All of these are so canon bro.

Solar saves Nexus with true loves kiss real? Real. I saw it with my own two eyes. It happened chat.

BLOODYSUN!!! They love their sunny and try to show that in the best way they know how, dead birds included. Sun is so grossed out by the blood and feathers and ough that's a dead bird ewww but he just forces a smile and nods and feeds it to his cats when Bloodmoon isn't looking. Then drowns his hands with soap and shampoos the carpet.

I feel like I've seen that fic too but my poor brain- Also yes, the pretending to be reset is canon. And that's so cute I'm-

Platonic ships are just as valid as romantic ones! And I really like the angst potential too heheheheh

Ayo 👀 Mmm I have thoughts about that but I must refrain.

Objectively correct. Nexus is an eclipsephile. He loves himself some eclipse.

POLY POLY POLY 🎉🎉🎉

THANK YOU FOR SHARING ALL OF YOUR THOUGHTS THESE ARE SO TASTY OH MY GOD ROLLING THESE AROUND IN MY BRAIN

Also awww ur so sweet. I love ur art! It's very cute! Of course I followed!

Ask Game

[rosecrystal]

it feels so weird to write about this to you because i made fun of your dumb anons countless times but my god you are someone who has some real and working brain cells so please bear with me for five minutes. So. I had this online friend for 11 years now. We pretty much grew up together lmao. Well. Lately i feel some... flirting when we talk. She told me she wanted to kiss me once when she was very drunk. Our "lets move abroad together and have a shitty small apartment together!! #girls" fantasies suddenly became hey wouldnt it be funny if we got married in europe. And babes i cant tell you how much i hate it. I do not have any feelings for her romantically, fuck i am SO BAD with romantic relationship stuff that even thinking about this makes me want to ghost her after 11 fucking years of geniunely amazing friendship. I know i should bring it up to her but i also know its gonna go TERRIBLY because she cannot handle rejection well like at all. The worst of it all is she got a very good job recently and shes planning to come visit me during the winter. Ive been just dodging any talks about her visit and saying well let me figure out my grad school stuff and my job stuff and my moving houses stuff blablabla but i know i Have to say something very soon. Please for the love of god look at this from an outsider perspective and give me at least a bit of advice i am willing to be the clown of the day. What do i do. What do i say.

Helloo anon the i am willing to be the clown of the day part is so funny to me but this is definitely a complicated situation um my 2 cents are that you guys should have a serious talk about this (duh) if you want to salvage your friendship because if you’re already walking on eggshells and avoiding her then your friendship is doomed to begin with. Even if she can’t handle rejection well it is up to you to be honest with her about your feelings and intentions to avoid hurting her/leading her on. I just feel like honesty is an act of love and the biggest favor you can do to another person, how they deal with it is up to them and not up to you anymore. Consider either having a video call or you guys could even talk face to face when she comes to see you (if she’s coming to see you as a friend). Maybe talk to her about what her expectations for visiting you are (eg. maybe shes excited to see and explore the city where you live or she wants to hang out with you etc) and that might give you an idea of how to handle the situation. Wish you luck!🍀

[seongminiz]

to do list:

write smutty things in jo’s inbox✅

so.. i see u like zb1…did u watch the mv for zb1’s sweat? i am currently trying to keep up with too many groups atm but the mv did alter my brain chemistry permanently and honestly i’m too scared to watch the live stages but i’ve got 2 scenarios playing out here because i am not a loyal person when it comes to zb1😓

i desperately need to ride jiwoong and have him smack my ass with the same enthusiasm as he humps the air towards the end of the mv.. his chest.. ugh i wanna lick all over it and suck his tiddies in my mouth, men who have tiddies justshhdjdjdjd i desperately need my face in between them at all times slobbering all over them omgggg.. erm and then idk i just need jiwoong to wreck me . like i’m so serious he’s insane for looking like that what the hell!!!! is his problem!!!! that wasn’t really a scenario honestly head empty when it comes to him. i could see him being into dumbification for sure.. i also see ppl hc him as being rly mean/frat boy but i don’t think so :( i think he’d be a fairly soft dom but if u want him to hurt u then he will >:))))

matthew on the other hand.. on paper, he’s my bias for sure, and i love toxic!matthew headcanons and i do agree he is probably(hopefully) rly big and girthy.. he’s definitely the type of guy to want his partner to wear a sundress or like some loose shorts whatever gives him the easiest access to play with you, would fill you up with his cum and then make you try to hold it in, in public<333 park dates or beach dates or smth summery but he’s out to get u the whole time, keeping you so flustered and needy and then giving you what u want, mocking you for it cuz ur just a dumb baby :(( need his cock all the time :(( and then cumming inside and making u hold it in so he can watch you struggle to do so and become so ashamed when it begins to dribble down ur thighs.. but the feeling of clenching to try to keep it inside you just makes you desperate again and the cycle continues<33333

i feel like i often come into ur inbox and then kinda blackout and then i’m just like yeah idk what that was *tucks hair behind ear* anyways i hope u like.

- 🧁 anon

🧁 do u want me dead be honest ..... just think of how i felt when i woke up this morning n saw this long ass ask in my inbox 💔💔💔 /pos

(i kept it to myself for the whole day bc im a gatekeeper at heart amen)

yes i did watch the sweat mv !! that part of the choreo at the end .. my friend started calling it the dickslap so now everytime we see a video of it we send it to each other like 'get dickslapped‼️‼️' bc we have the humor of a 12yo

ANYWAYS u r so real especially bc like .. who doesn't love a good pair or man tits⁉️

me with jiwoong fr fr :

NO LITERALLY JIWOONG IS SUCH A SOFT DOM IDC IDC U R SO RIGHT FOR THAT idc what anyone else says

matthew ..... i dont even have words for what u wrote for matthew i just .

yeah .

hes such a tease i cant stand him i hate him so much (read : i want him so bad its not even funny)

OFC I LIKE THIS HELLOOOO I LIKE EVERYTHING U WRITE I SWEAR

[baeddelations]

I think this part of my loathing of seeing this article passed around "i am tw, iam staying in the closet" bc it is a diary entry that was explicitly not supposed to be advice or a rubric. She origanilly aays its just 1 narrative to take in then when it gets past around she says hey this was me venting i didnt intend for anyone to read this.

I think this is the major interest in this piece. A view into the interiority of a tw whos been closeted for 20 yrs and her personal xp growin up then being a closeted tw in a University WGS dept. Some ppl might call this a fetishistic interest in the interiority of this tw, oh how they love poking around in the frankenstein monsters guts, poking his brain to see what horrid mismatched limb will jump.

I think the main reason @autolenaphilia interacted with this is bc this article was passed around by a bunch of transmisogynist who are adpting and pulling together the transmisogyny of jeniffer and her recounting of cismanhating that exists in primarily cisfeminist spaces and by extension radical and queer spaces. Jennifer does not bring up cafab transness or transmasculinity once in this article yet it is cited as inspiration for truther framework.

I do think the way that jennifer talks about not wanting to acquiesce is kinda built on a faulty conjecture which is that if she transitioned she would be able to talk about femininity in these spaces... at one point she says this probably wouldnt be true(mb just for her) but then goes back to the original argumentation on many occasions. This argumentation taken to conlusion posits that it is easier to discourse or even exist in those spaces as a tw than as a cis man that u will be more include and less ridiculed. At the time of this article she had never actually tried out this proposition, so she never got to see how this prop is at least in all the copius amounts of personal and anecdotal xp i have false. But this prop is useful for ppl who want push tw have it easier and that men are reviled for being men. Enter prager xcuse me truthers.

I also hate internalized oppression framework, imo it is an idpol tool used to shift blame from the brainwashed oppressed to som aspirational that oppressive ideology comes naturally to. Is she promoting transmisogynistic ideas? Yah, shes not bad for this but it is why its useful to truthers, and part of why it hurts to read as a tw.

@autogyne-redacted i do think its hard to see point 1, 2, and 5 of y shes not trnsn nd say these arent related to passibility. Repercussion are often contingent with passablity. Movin towards phys transn being dysphoria inducing is connected with what expectations of feminity u hav and how u line up with them(i also xp this). And the gap thing is imo her wishing she could be passable w ease and recognizing she cant so settling and saying its not worth it to try.

I think lena is apply a broader scope of trans xp to jennifers xp i dnt think this is even necessarily harmful and i dnt think shes even saying jen is wrong for it shes saying her words are easy to coopt that they are capering to these tmras which they are however unitentionally. U could also take things ive said in the past and warp them into tmra shit. I fortunately didnt write these things in a medium article. She is handling in other ways and this is wut conv therapy wants... thats what it seems they go for a lot again doesnt mean jen is bad nd lena doest say shes wrong for this. The only thing lena says is she doesnt want this for herself thats not restricting jens autonomy. And that the article and responses made her sick. They made me feel bad too. This isnt necessarily a moral judgement. It could be but idk.

All this is a dissection. I hate it. I wish her vent diary post wasnt being aired, analyzed, and discoursed. Im doing it right now ffs! It makes me want to leave the internet. I hope ppl stop talkn bout it...but they wont bc the corpse of this diary can be a useful weapon against tw so itll keep gettn used.

[bonesandthebees]

finally put together my thoughts about last glass chapter, idk how comprehensible it all is but I dont have the words to praise it how it deserves

the use of the pythia in the ch27 is super interesting to me

there are moments where I wonder if he doesnt have a bit of a hard time letting go of the pythia title, its all he had for a big part of his life after all, it was what have him purpose in life

and the problem wasnt inheritly in the title or the role, it was in the rules and how he was treated, he deserved to be respected as a person even when he was the pythia

that cechovs syringe was really cool, at first it was scary bc the priests intentions were definitely to use it on wilbur and I really like how it went from a fear factor to our saving grace AND created wilburs whole dilemma about taking tommy away from his goddess but saving him

by having the priest have it at first and wilbur taking it it felt really smoothly incorporated into the story instead of wilbur just finding it somewhere or something

I hate how they blame wilburs change on the deathlings, the fact that he turned against clara, the tattoo choice, everything

even now its like they cant give credit for any decisions, for having a mind of his own and just cant imagine being a person without being the pythia

or even that hes someone while having the role of the pythia

and it just hurts to see so much

thats why schlatts change in attitude mustve hurt so much

clara failed wilbur and the other pythias that came before him so bad

like I understand that all those rules are man-made, but it feels like she should protect them when she uses them for her visions yk

is the curse real? like do you personally work with it as real? or is that something left up for interpretation (or will we learn next chapter maybe)? bc tommy was cursed and he did die but at the same time coming to the palace was dangerous in nature and the actual killing was enacted as jacks revenge and that has been going on way longer than tommy was cursed, everyone cursed was kinda set up for their death beforehand they even got cursed in a way

whether it is real or not it was yet another thing that built up to the moment of Wilbur deciding to save tommy and played a big role in it bc it was thanks to the curse that wilbur knew that tommy doesnt want to die and has been praying to krisitin bc of it and it looked like shes ignoring him and all this helped wilbur decide to save him

and I think he wouldnt have saved tommy without knowing all this. it goes against the deathlings' religion (at least i think? it was murder so im not sure sure but I think it was wrong on jacks side but on tommys side I dont think it matters how he died but taking him away from death is wrong) and tommy actually worshiped kristin of his own choice and wilbur knows that and he also knows what its like not to be respected

now ofc I cant be sure what wilbur wouldve done bc that crimeboys bond is STRONG and also in the heat of the moment, accounting it was murder and all, but still

oh my god

writing this I realised that you could say THE CURSE SAVED TOMMYS LIFE this is insane I am obsessed, I think this look on it makes it all really beautiful, storytelling wise

very interested in how theyll handle the fact that jack tried to kill tommy bc honestly this situation was very different from when tommy did it, it was PLANNED

glass!jack and glass!niki you are so interesting to me I am rotating you in my brain constantly, their path of thinking has captured me

I hope that schlatts confession about his opinion on the visions helps wilbur make his peace a bit, bc while it doesnt excuse how schlatt treated wilbur, it explains it and also shows that it wasnt wilburs fault that he was failing his role as the pythia when schlatt didnt listen bc he was basically set up to fail from the start

and yes wilbur is parting with his role as the pythia but this might still help him recover, bc at least he wasnt so bad at his one job all these year

and if it doesnt help at least we got schlatt calling wilbur pretty boy, obsessed

I love how in reaction to what schlatt says wilbur feels the pythia dying in the palace and leaving it behind

what a banger chapter, so much happened and it was all so interesting

all that happened and mainly the stuff around tommys dying just showa so perfectly what this story has been telling us this whole time, what the main theme is basically, and that is that in the end you when it matters the only one you can rely on is yourself, not some god and the scene with wilbur saving tommy and kristin not being there really pushes this on you so well I love it sm

rn im just putting all my hope on phil and the deathlings to save wilbur from being forced to be the pythia again

also probably very hypothetical question but im thinking about if wilbur got the option to kinda peacefully step out of his role of the pythia by getting a vision about the next one if he would do it or wouldnt bc he would refuse to bring that fate onto someone else

aaaa thank you, yes I really enjoyed playing around with using the pythia vs wilbur in this chapter. it's hard because I wanted the chapter to be mostly wilbur, but there were key moments where I knew he was going to slip back into the pythia mindset, mostly when he's talking to the priest and later to schlatt. it's not necessarily he's having a hard time letting go of the title, it's that he's spent so much of his life in this mindset that he's not a person, that he's supposed to be wholly devoted to this goddess that he keeps slipping in and out of that mental space.

I'm glad the syringe felt smoothly incorporated!! I was worried it would feel like too much of a "this is a surprise tool that will help us later" bit and while it definitely still was, I wanted it to be tied into what was going on and the worldbuilding and everything

I mean, wilbur has spent the last decade acting as a completely dedicated pythia. then he's gone for a little over half a year and suddenly he's gotten a tattoo and severed his ties to clara and is working with the deathlings? from the priests perspective you can kind of see how it's a bit difficult to believe he got there on his own. especially when they think of becoming the pythia as the highest honor anyone can attain, and how the dehumanizing aspects are meant to be more revered and honorable than anything else

oooo that's an interesting question about the curse. this is going to sound like a cop out answer but I swear it's not, I genuinely haven't decided if the curse is real or not. in a way I think of it like schrodinger's curse. it's both real and not real at the same time. all of the deaths can be explained away by circumstance, but that doesn't mean that the curse didn't cause them. I set it up so that it was completely up to interpretation. I hope that makes sense?

hmm that's an interesting take actually! I definitely think it was a combination of things that led to wilbur deciding to save tommy's life, but the ultimate deciding factor was simply that crimeboys have an unhealthy bond. wilbur will pull tommy back from death even if he's in the arms of his goddess, because he needs tommy by his side. tommy will fight to keep wilbur to himself and get jealous when he starts to heal and connect with other people. the two of them hurt each other because of how much they love each other. that was kind of the core of that whole thing, although I really like what you pointed out with the whole curse saving tommy's life in a way

glass!rocketduo are so interesting babygirls your logic is so screwed up <3

yeah, wilbur was set up to fail from the start. and it does help him find some kind of peace with it! it wasn't his fault, he wasn't a failure. schlatt was never going to listen to him for reasons outside his control.

yessss you get it, one of the primary themes is about relying on yourself and other people before relying on goddesses that might or might not choose to help you. the deities in glass are so far above humanity they can choose what they want to help with and when, and humanity is only left to try and understand why the goddesses do what they do but they'll never really be able to.

hmm that's also an interesting question... personally I think wilbur wouldn't pass on the teachings, but even then the priests would just do it for him so it wouldn't change much. I still think he would choose not to participate though.

thank you so much for the kind words i'm so glad you enjoyed!!!

[bunny-heels]

giant vent post.

i think ive reached an actual breaking point. i havent had a breakdown this bad in such a long time and it stills feels horrible now as it did back then. i cant really think properly, not straight at least anyway. im going to ramble on and probably have a really hard time connecting everything together. but whatever.

at some point in my teens i developed a hyper self awareness. i would have that part of my brain that always thought rationally, like it was made up of a court of people or was some sort of other entity entirely. its always aware of what i was doing, if im doing something stupid, out of anger, irrational, selfish. its the "adult" part. it knows better than me, it knows right from wrong. and its not even like a "voice in the back of my head" or anything. its a very vocal and very upfront part of my brain thats there all the time. and it still is as im writing this. its never left.

my self awareness is really, really strong. it is pretty much my personal therapist. i think ive been through so much mental trauma in my life that my brain has just developed this as a safety net or firewall or whatever. and i mean it works a lot. only time it doesnt is when im really really depressed. like close to actually self harming or making a plan to kill myself levels.

i remember when i tried self-harming once, using really shitty dull scissors. that self-aware part of my brain was there the whole time, kept telling me this was a bad idea, there was no point in doing it and it would only hurt me and my loved ones if i succeeded in actually causing damage. i heard it the entire time. but i still went through with it and tried so hard to get through my own skin. i couldnt and i finally gave into the self aware and realized i shouldve listened to it sooner cause yeah, its not worth it to hurt myself just to regret it later.

my self awareness knew better like it always does. and like i said, its basically my therapist now. i barely even vent anymore because of it. i used to vent and rant a lot. i did it weekly pretty much because i had my little spaces where i thought i could let my emotions out and then i'd be able to go along with my day. then i had a friend of mine be passive aggressive towards me once because i guess they finally got sick of seeing of my rants on their timeline. and even my own mom told me i shouldnt be talking and showing my sensitive side so much online. then my stupid autism mistook someones joke for being real and i got so embarrassed i tried my best to seem like i was talking about someone else. and then i made friends with people where all they would do is rant and vent and rant and vent and rant and vent. and i got so, so tired of it to the point where i wanted to try everything i can to not be like them.

after that i barely ever ranted or vented again and only did it on very very very few occasions and only in places my friends could see. but every time i felt my emotions grow, my self aware side will just come in and be rational.

"dont think much about what these people online are doing, you know theyre just hateful and spiteful. theres no point in wasting your thoughts and emotions on them. do something you like instead."

"yeah the world is horrible right now. there are children dying and families being torn apart and innocent people being put through torture. and you feel guilty that you cant help them or that you dont deserve to be sad because youre not the one going through it. but its okay to be sad about people you dont know or how bad the world gets, and you dont need to justify your sadness. you know its different for everyone."

"you're reasonably upset about this thing, youre getting angry and there being no progress made is just making your mood worse. but font blow up. you know better than to yell at the people who dont and you dont want it to seem like youre annoyed with them or that you dont care. anger doesnt solve anything. you need patience and to be understanding. you shouldnt act extreme unless the situation really calls for it. then its justified."

if i have an urge to vent, i'll vent to my self awareness. if i get angry, my self awareness will calm me down. if i'm confused, my self awareness will look at everything it can. if i'm doing something i shouldn't, my self awareness lets me know. if i get bad impulses, my self awareness keeps me under control. my self awareness knows best. its the better half of me. its the part of me that i wish i could fully be 24/7. but i just cant.

and to be honest, my self awareness is also my enemy.

"i know you feel like venting but, look at all the problems these other people have. you dont need to talk about your problems with anyone. just use your brain and you'll be fine."

"theres already someone in this group that brings the mood down all the time. they talk negative about themselves and their life. you already feel bad for not being able to do anything. why add on to the list of people who cry and complain? you cant take care of your own issues just fine."

"is this the best time to be going to this person to vent and rant? i mean you have no idea what theyre doing right now. they could be busy, they could be in a good mood and you dont wanna bring them down. what if they dont even want to hear about your problems right now? its best if you just figure it out yourself for now. youre smart, you dont need other people when you already know what to do."

i remember in late elementary and during my whole middle school years, my mental health was the lowest its ever been. during middle school, almost every day was the same. i'd have an okay or mediocre time at school, i'd come home, feel relief for a bit and maybe hang out with friends, then all the sudden this wave of sadness flowed through me. it would hit hard and all at one. i would always have to get away from my computer, climb into bed, and cry. sometimes it was over something that happened at school, sometimes over something online, sometimes something at home, and sometimes for no reason. but it would always happen. no matter what.

i isolated myself when i cried. i hated people seeing or hearing me cry or tear up. i would get made fun of for crying in elementary school, whether if it was from bullying or having issues with class or the teacher. i was and am still really really sensitive. and i was always treated terribly every time i showed it. so when i got emotional or upset, i hid myself away. no one gets bothered by me and i get bothered by no one. eventually after learning some things about psychology and getting a bit of therapy, my brain trained on that and i learned to deal with my emotions all by myself. i didnt need to talk to anyone anymore, no more making someone feel bad or having my problems be ignored or getting made fun of for my emotions. from now on all my problems stayed my problems.

but i dont know how long i can keep going like this. i can rationalize a situation, i can regulate my emotions, i can do things at my own pace and never have to worry about burdening someone or myself ever again. im doing it all myself. im doing it alone.

i dont want to do it alone anymore.

i want to talk to people about my problems again. i want to rant and vent and ramble and scream about things that piss me off and make me upset. i wanna yell while i rant to my friends about something that made me angry. i wanna vent about having a shitty day. i wanna be able to message a friend and tell them i feel like shit. i wanna be able to call a friend while crying and saying that i wish things were better. i wanna be able to talk about how much the world sucks. i wanna have moments where i talk shit about myself, talk about how im a miserable piece of shit and that i dont deserve to be loved and cared for. i dont deserve friends or family, i dont deserve nice things, i dont deserve to have fun, or have medicine, or have people listen to me, or care about me. i wanna scream that i dont matter and that no one cares about me.

and all i want after that is just someone to hug me.

i dont want to hear rational explanations about the world, or about how life and feelings work, or how the human brain works, or how fair and unfair things can be. i dont want cold hard truth. i dont want blunt. my brain already does it for me. i know im being irrational, i know im just upset, i know im just depressed, i knows things are unpredictable and that life isnt a straight path and that not everything is simple and things cant be fixed that easily and that theres always gonna be hard moments and i just have to accept it. i know. i know i know i know.

just please. i just want a moment to he comforted.

i want someone to listen. i want someone to sit there in silence as they hear my begs and pleads. i want them to not say anything as i scream about how terrible everything is. i want them quiet as i complain that life is awful and things should be easier. i dont want them to interrupt while i talk shitty about myself and call myself a horrible person. i dont want them to talk. i want them to listen. i want them to hear me when i cry and listen when i go on and on and on.

and when im finally finished speaking, and im gasping for air as my throat is all raspy from how much and how high ive spoken, and my face is red and i have a massive headache and my eyes and cheeks are soaked in tears and my whole body hurts, i just want them to get up, be right in front or next to me, and hug me.

i want them to wrap their arms around me and squeeze me tight against them. for them to put their hand on the back of my head and on my mid back and stroke both of them. for them to put my face in the croak of their neck. and to just hear them breath and whisper

"its okay. everything will be okay."

and i'll cry again. i'll cry so hard my whole face will hurt. my eyes will be bloodshot, my face is hot and bright red, my nose is snotty and runny, my whole body is tired, i look like a disheveled mess. and i'll cry into their neck. i'll let it all out.

and i want them to be okay with that. i want them to let me let go. i want them to let me have my moment of breaking down. and when im tired from it all, i want them to soothe me and tell me that everything will be okay. that im not a bad person, that im not ugly, that its okay that im sensitive, that im not a burden, that i deserve to be loved and cared for, that its okay for me to cry, its okay for me to have these moments of weakness, that im not alone, that its okay for me to let it out.

that i dont have to care of myself anymore and theyll be there for me no matter what.

i'll have them and they'll have me.

but even now when im getting close to finishing this, feeling like i finally have let myself have a moment of vulnerability.

that voice comes back, it creeps in at the last few words.

"you do have people that care about you. of course theyre there for you. you know you have people that care. dont pretend they dont exist."

they do exist.

i know they exist.

but

what if theyre busy.

[ofallthingsnasty]

I know I haven't been following you for that long, but I have gotten invested in your fanfics and ocs so FAST. Not even kidding when I say that I spend tons of time just daydreaming about your fics lol They just scratch that itch I have for dark stories, it's amazing😭😭😭 And damn all these character lore drops are just watering my crops😫 Especially the bits about Evan and Micah.

I knew I was right to be scared of Evan since the beginning but yikes on bikes, I didn't expect him to straight up resort to maiming you if you act out ⊙▂⊙ I imagine that if the reader did ever manage to escape while Evan was out, it wouldn't be at all out of character for him to go "well reader, looks like you're losing the 'having both of your legs privilege'🙂" And he would feel super bad about it, but he would still do it. Probably while crying and saying something along the lines of this is going to hurt me more then it's going to hurt you, while the reader is begging and crying for him to not do it. Ughhh I got chills just typing this out💀Yeah Evan scares me quite a bit, anyways amazing character cant wait to see more of him lol🥰

And our favorite resident jerk Micah Bell, I do hate his guts but I have always found his character really morbidly fascinating and fun to witness in game. I sit there and go 'wow this guy is such an asshole.....why isn't he in more scenes and missions?(look if you hate him then that means that Peter Blomquist did his job perfectly👌) Micah is definitely one of my favorite villains ever and my goodness you have done this awful and nasty man justice in 'through the briar' 😖 And that bit of lore you posted just adds to it. Micah already doesn't like the reader in the slightest, in the beginning he saw her as an annoyance, an easy target to bully, and a opportunity to one up Arthur. But from what you posted, if the reader ends up pregnant he seems to genuinely resent you for the situation "you" put him in. To Micah you just had to have the utter AUDACITY to get pregnant, when he just wanted to have a little fun. And now he has to do all this work to look after the reader and their children (by work it means he probably shows up once a month, twice if he's feeling extra generous. And hands you a single can of beans that prob expired three years ago, 15 dollars and a quarter, don't forget the quarter💀all that to feed maybe 2-4 kids? Gee thanks for the help🙃)

I imagine whenever he does come home its like walking on eggshells for the reader and the kids, cause Micah is looking for any reason to get verbally and physically abusive towards them, especially the reader. (btw do you think Micah has even a hint of affection for his children? I know he doesn't love you in the slightest💀 but maybe the kids got a fraction of his cold, dead heart😭😭) In the little escape attempt from Micah scenario you have planned, I can honestly see him calling the reader an 'ungrateful bitch' for running from him after all he's done for you🙃🙄 That he didn't have to do "right" by you after you got pregnant, but he did. And this is how you repay him? And after that little speech....yeah it won't be pretty for the reader🫥

Anyways enough of my rambling😅As you can see your fics are just feeding my brain hahaha (holy crap this is a long ass post I'm sorry lmao💀)

Oh my god, this is so sweet!! I am amazed that my writing could have such an influence on anyone 😭💕 You don't know how much internal back-and-forth I did before I finally was able to publish 'through the briar' - because I thought the concept was so silly and had big, big self-doubts but that fic really showed me that there is always someone who wants to read whatever idea it is one has 💕💕 So, thank you, really!!

I knew I was right to be scared of Evan since the beginning but yikes on bikes, I didn't expect him to straight up resort to maiming you if you act out ⊙▂⊙

Yes, yes you definitely should!! I only scratched the surface of his true nature in 'capture kill' but I was trying to leave some hints for the readers - I see him as a very 'classic' yandere, like the ones I used to read about when I was younger. Desperate, lovesick, willing to go to hell and back to have you - the only thing that holds him back is his little wolf pack because following their code is intrinsical to him. He's easy to underestimate, especially for a defiant darling.

I imagine that if the reader did ever manage to escape while Evan was out, it wouldn't be at all out of character for him to go "well reader, looks like you're losing the 'having both of your legs privilege'🙂" And he would feel super bad about it, but he would still do it. Probably while crying and saying something along the lines of this is going to hurt me more then it's going to hurt you, while the reader is begging and crying for him to not do it.

Yup, exactly! Like I said, it's all for the "greater good" - he already fucking hates what happens to you in 'capture kill' but again, he'll surely be the one to impregnate you and then you two can forget all about this, right? Then he will have earned you fair and square - and no one can take you away from him.

I sit there and go 'wow this guy is such an asshole…..why isn't he in more scenes and missions?

gdfdsgh same!! I would KILL for more lines like "No need to keep your face covered now. It's just you and me, sweetheart." during An American Pastoral Scene (link with timestamp for your viewing pleasure ehe) - I soaked all these missions up like a fucking sponge, both absolutely disgusted and captivated.

I imagine whenever he does come home its like walking on eggshells for the reader and the kids, cause Micah is looking for any reason to get verbally and physically abusive towards them, especially the reader. (btw do you think Micah has even a hint of affection for his children? I know he doesn't love you in the slightest💀 but maybe the kids got a fraction of his cold, dead heart😭😭)

Absolutely. You look at him a little funny and he'll be going off in an instant, laying into you as though you're his personal punching bag. For his kids? I think it's complicated. Again, he did write to Amos - whether it's to stake a claim on his kin or because of some brotherly love, we can't know - but I do think that even that man can't help but melt a little (like on a molecular level) when a little horde of Bell children vies for his attention. That lasts for three exact seconds, then he's back to cussing them out. What I'm trying to say is that he has his moments, as many abusive parents tend to have.

And I agree SO MUCH with everything you've said about Micah and the reader-character. Really, the only good thing about him is that he's gonna die in a couple of years. Although that would leave you in even rougher shape, financially. Maybe we can both hold hands and dream about John magically coming into money and helping her out or something 😭 She is so fucked. I feel so fucking bad for my own creation, especially because she's a really shy, nice little lady. She really doesn't deserve it.

(Don't apologize omg!! I really enjoyed reading your thoughts!! It's the highest form of praise that my writing makes you think™, it means I did something right 😭💕)

[onlyjaeyun]

Zadie, Zadie, Zadie I know you said Poison bonus chapter, but may I recommend something even better, Hype Boy bonus chapter just in time for the one and only Jake Sim's birthday.

The feminine urge to write a fic for Jake's birthday is just too much, like my heart says do it, but my brain says finish your Sunghoon fic it's already at 51k and so close to being done.

I'm out of plot ideas for the moment, which like I've sent so many, instead just enjoy some thoughts for the moment.

Once they start dating y/n is quick to realize when Jay gets mad, rather than possibly yell and all at her, he'd just invite Sunghoon to go workout, getting his anger out that way rather than possibly hurting anyone with his words.

Jay is the type that once him and y/n start dating, he won't let either of them go to bed angry, it would hurt his ego, but he'd put himself aside and apologize for the argument even if it wasn't his fault. He'd apologize and just confuse y/n, since she's be just be like 'but I started the argument' and Jay's just like 'well I'm sorry I let you start an argument'. They definitely talk through everything, and Jay takes each and every word y/n says to heart. The boys definitely send that one picture that says 'me and bitch don't argue she tells me shut up and I do' to their gc and are all 'that's u Jay'.

Once y/n and Jay are dating, Sunghoon would find a reason to be at Jay's penthouse every night, just because he wants the good food. Jay would cook all the good food while y/n bakes all the amazing treats, Sunghoon calls them his parents at least once, probably in the gc at some point asking Jay 'what's for dinner', and when Jay's like 'why', he's like 'ur my parents and I'm hungry'; this interaction gets him uninvited from Jay's penthouse for like a week, until y/n ask why Sunghoon hasn't been over to raid their freshly baked goods and Jay lets him back in, but limits his visits to once a week.

Jay said y/n can personalize her area, but she refrains from it, not wanting to possibly put something out Jay does not like. Jay however notices that she does not personalize her desk like he said she can, despite how much he hates it and it hurts him, he puts a few personalized items on his own desk, seeing those makes y/n feel more comfortable about personalizing her own desk. While he might hate the items he put on his desk, he enjoys seeing the joy in y/n's face as she personalizes her own desk.

Jay isn't one for personalizing anything, but once him and y/n are dating, he has a picture of her in one of his desk drawers and whenever he can't just look at her, say he's stressed or just missing her beautiful face, he just opens up the desk drawer and stares at the photo. The boys definitely catch him smiling into his desk drawer at some point, and then clown him about how down bad he is.

Jay officially goes to therapy and stops using his notes app as a therapist after he overhears y/n say guys that take care of their mental health are sexy.

urgh bestie when have you ever MISSED with these? i'm afraid NEVER. i literally cant post your other hcs because they're too similar to my ideas and would be HUGE spoilers but these are too cute not to and i just :( thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to send me these k love you sm

pls ive been thinking about writing a jake fic for WEEKS but life keeps getting in my way i hate it here sm 😭😭😭 might just edit and rewrite an old fic bc i cant not post on his birthday as his gf like come on 🫣

also: FIFTYONETHOUSAND WORDS THATS FUCKING CRAZY AND I SHALL RESPECT YOU FOR THAT FOREVER THATS MADDDD

And to add to the last part: he actually goes to therapy and his therapist suggested him the notes app part bc he knew jay wouldnt do physical journaling but needed to let out his thoughts 😭😭😭

[mouthsfullofsharpteeth]

obviously their relationship is super unhealthy considering the whole everything of it. but i imagine them having yet another argument but instead of it turning into sex like it usually does alex actually starts throwing punches. hes furious because ever since he killed that guy tim has refused to talk about why he just STOOD there like that and when alex asks tim mentions that he'd probably be better off dead than whatever the hell hes been doing with alex. and it just sets him off because he KILLED for tim. and he HATED it but he was so scared of seeing tim die he did it anyways. and here tim is treating him like he did it because he wanted to, because he wants tim to hurt and be 'trapped' here with tim. and so they fight and its bad. tim gets the upperhand and drags alex up by the shirt and asks him what the hell he thinks hes doing, and alex pulls his gun and presses it to the side of tims head.

and he tim lets go of alex. and alex looks him in the eyes and hates the way they seem so empty. like he has nothing left. like alex hasnt been there trying to keep him alive, even if it was so HE didnt have to be alone.

and then alex grabs tims hand and forces the gun into it, and points it directly at his own head.

he could just kill him then. since hed rather die than be around him. since a good fuck is all hes useful for. since tim thinks hes a monster. go ahead. put him down like the rabid dog he is. (ignore the tears. alex is heartless. alex doesnt feel guilt about what he did to that man or his friends or the way he argues with tim but keeps him close anyways.)

kill him now, and next time alex wont be there to save him. but dont ask him to kill tim because he cant stand the thought of losing the last person he has left. even if that person despises him.

and of course tim cant do it. and neither can alex. they are all they have left. and alex will fight to keep tim alive as long as possible, even if tim lets himself be put in danger. but tim wont make the mistake of assuming alex feels nothing again. because hes always going to think about the moment after he pulled the gun away and set it on the table. the moment alex falls forward into his arms, the way alex wheezes in pain as his bruised rib collides with tims chest. the way he shakes and shivers as he weeps silently, refusing to make a sound.

hey these boys are fucked up i think

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. anon i am reading this so hard. your writing just explodes my brain. tysm.

I think after that, Tim is having a hard time talking to him for a different reason now. He keeps looking at Alex, thinking about that fight, thinking about the moments where he was holding that gun to Alex's temple. Seconds that felt like centuries. Tim has hurt people, has hurt Alex. Had hurt Alex mere minutes before that moment. It all feels off kilter now, though. He had held onto that fixed image of Alex, heartless and aggressive and remorseless over everything he had done. Stuck to Tim out of obligation, but just as quick to cross him too. It's weird now. Tim looks at him and sees tears streaming down his face, sees him trembling as Tim rails him into the mattress, sees him furious on Tim's own behalf. And now that he's seen it once, he sees it more. Nearly every day, that mask of stoic indifference cracks away more and more, until Tim isn't sure how he ever believed the Alex's 'heartless' act. Alex wears his heart on his fucking sleeve, is almost uncomfortably expressive with how many emotions are just out there on his face.

And so Tim isn't sure what to do then, when they're about a mile deep in the woods because of some stupid delusion Alex had about needing to find something in here, and that something ending up being another trap set up by the operator. A trap that has Alex beaten bloody with a gun to his head, a gun that Tim isn't holding. A gun being held and aimed by someone who really really does want Alex dead. And Tim has the weapon this time. He tells himself afterward that he did hesitate. That it wasn't instinct. That he wasn't seeing red, fueled by blind rage as he brought this guy down, taking him out with his fists alone. He tells himself he hadn't felt his heart in his throat as he got Alex to his feet, calling him stupid an idiot reckless and what the hell was he thinking and Jesus Christ you could have died, what the fuck is wrong with you?? Tim drives them back to the hotel with white knuckles. Feels sick later as he disinfects the cuts on Alex's face, bitterly thinks this guy should have stuck to one or the other, fists or the pistol, because both was certainly overkill.

did not mean to write so much whoops fdghdkgf you unleashed a monster LMFAO

[iantcjcnes]

it’s the twenty sixth of february, 1;48 pm, and i am going to be twenty six in two days. and my depression has reached such a level today that it is telling me to kill myself.  

and i don’t know what to do. (apart from not killing myself, obviously.)

at the moment i hate myself. well, i hate myself more than usual, which is a lot. i hate my depression i hate that i hate myself. i hate the way that no matter how hard i try i can never be normal. i hate the fact that 

i just. i want to do something with my life. and i know that i'm not gonna. i hate that i am a discount version of holly, unable to do anything without having someone to hold my hand. i hate that i cant make or answer phonecalls without fucking moral support.

i fucking hate how like holly i'm always going to be stuck mentally at the age of what-ever-the-fuck-teen, being unable to be a functioning member of society. 

i wish that depression and anxiety didn’t fucking haunt every decision that i make. i wish I didn’t have to win a battle with myself every time i even thought about leaving the house. i wish that i didn’t feel so guilty every time i looked at the dog because i suck so much, that i can’t even take him for a walk. 

i hate the fact that i almost wish that i had killed myself when i was a teenager to stop the adult me, current me from feeling this way.

i wish I could fucking clean by myself, without forcing my mum or holly to hurt themselves to get me off my backside. i wish i could force myself to do the dishes, or fucking force myself to remember two buttons on the washing machine. but i can’t, and mum with her shitty legs has to do it for me. 

i see mum struggling to pay for things this month, and i know i should be helping. i know i could be helping, but i just cant. i cant articulate why but living here, rent free makes me feel so selfish and so shitty

i want to be an adult, with a job that i can do that i don’t hate, that pays the bills and lets me live comfortably. i want to be able to be spontaneous and do random things. i'm thinking about joining the army (which i wont because i suck so much that no matter what i do i know that i'll never be fit/thin enough.)

i want to be a streamer (but i wont because i suck, my voice sucks, my teeth suck, and i can’t get a fucking microphone to work.)

i want to act (but I cant for all the reasons i just mentioned. i want to get a history degree and do something with it. (but i cant because i don’t know how. i don’t know how to start where to start when to start, and i refuse to burden my mum further.)

i know tomorrow will be another day. i probably won’t feel this way for a week, a month, a year. but i know that i will. like a bad stomach after an awful curry, this feeling will again overwhelm me. i want to stop feeling this way i just want my brain my body myself to metamorph into a functioning human being. i want my brain to stop. 

i want i want i want i want

my mental health is like an unexploded bombshell, and the rest of me is the unwilling city waiting for it to go off.

… i actually sobbed while writing this. fuck  

[bingwriterxo]

As always I am amazed. Your writing never ceases to make my brain explode in the best possible way. I know this may sound odd, but I actually appreciated Mindy asking Tara about amber. I feel like the way you write Mindy is done so perfectly. She never ceases to make me laugh and I love how she’s alos a very serious character in times when needed. I also loved seeing Tara’s point of view on the conversations. The hurt and grief at a lost of a best friend is still looming for tara, but I feel like in time the wound will heal. I believe it’s more of a betrayal then anything else. Tara interacting with readers doorman was absolutely everything I needed at 12 am. The saluting was my favorite 😂😂 and I didn’t feel bad because in grade school I had a teacher who I would salute everyday as I walked into class…yes I was indeed the nerd who fact checked history dates 😂 maybe that’s why I love reader so much, she’s a character close to my heart. I love the fact that reader put effort into there date. Her cooking…even when she doesn’t have much experience makes my heart beat! How cute is she!!!

I need a reader. Seriously. Oh how hard is it find a Shakespeare lass.😂

And the fact that she said I love you first took my surprise!!! In all my thoughts and ideas I had about museum tara I always thought tara would be the one to say it first. Mostly because in the early chapters she’s such a simp. Really. She is. As for there first time you do not disappoint. Everything was so well written and I absolutely loved reader turning her Shakespeare bust! 😂😂 I honestly think this was your best chapter yet. Truly! As for the mentions of my favorite brothers I love hearing that Nate is taking his role in the play seriously, and that Edmund hates it. 😂 readers parents asking about tara made me so happy mostly because I know tara will grow to love them with time. I’m writing this currently at 12 am so I hope this is coherent enough.

bing….you are a amazing writer. Simply the best. I cannot wait for what you have in mind for tara and reader. I hope you had a great day and continue to do so!!!

i wanted to make sure that anyone who doesn't really look at the asks knows that tara 100% does not love amber anymore. plus, i just feel like most friends would talk about that kinda stuff anyway

tara and Carmine are besties now, u cant tell me otherwise. and R tried her very best to cook...too bad they barely ate any of the dinner tho

to me, really, tara 100% fell first but R 100% fell harder. obvi we don't see as much from R because we can't read her thoughts, but that's what i think

i think R was real upset that tara turned shakespeare around--not because she wanted him to see, but how dare she put him in the corner

there will be more of Nate and Eddie in the next chapter! dont even worry!!

thank u so much bb 🫶 my love goes out to u, and i hope ur also having a great day!!

[keysimash]

Hello!!

I do not want to be bothering or rude, I am just curious if you’ve had time or energy to continue Leave, I still love the story so much and am looking forward to find out how it goes!!

But if not it’s ok, I just hope you have a nice day no matter what!! <3

Short answer , it's not discontinued but idk when I will work on it again. Sorry to be a disappointment

Long answer you probably dont want to read

I hate it. I can't even read it. I like my story, I like the plans I HAVE for the story, I just.... cant read my own writing. And this isn't some kind of compliment fishing either, it's gotten to the point I dont even like getting nice comments about it on my ao3 inbox anymore.

I sit down to work on it and I just... can't. All I can think about is how cringy it sounds ... and how bad it is, etc etc

Logically I know I'm actually a pretty good writer. But all I see when I look at this shit is mistakes.

And I come across in my writing as... way too emotional and earnest? If that makes any sense. I've mentioned I never made a plot outline, that shit is sooo obvious when i read it. And how I changed the plot three or four times. And how I changed the plot every time I got upset.

I used to not give a fuck about appealing to other people when I wrote because I didnt have anyone whose opinion I cared about reading it but now I feel like I have to write it not shittily or I'll disappoint everyone and myself. And I'm not capable of writing it not shittily right now because I would

a) have to build off the disjointed skeleton I've already made that's got plot holes and mischaracterizations

b) start over from scratch

And I can't do it right now! I cant!

I keep thinking about how my best friend told me I shouldn't put vent art on the internet at all. I feel disgusting now almost. Like people that take pics of their cuts and post em. I know shes full of shit but I cant shake the feeling. That it's my fault if I trigger somebody. That by writing anything that isnt a joke or fluff I'm doing something gross and self-masturbatory and harmful. "If you interpret the characters in a way the author didnt want you're just wrong..." that's what she said.. Its kirby and Meta knight and magolor for gods sake. What am I doing trying to make a gritty realistic darkfic... from a kids game.... cringe.... (only me tho. Nobody else counts)

Even my other works for other fandoms, it almost feels like they're on a timer as soon as I post them. I go "I like that, that's good" and post, and then a few days later I'm like "oh . That's shit now" and it has nothing to do with engagement or anything, its just like an arbitrary switch flipped in my brain

The only time I was writing well and writing consistently... was when I was being abused... I feel like I've lost my spark ... because maybe the only time I can make anything good is when I'm under so much emotional pressure I feel like I'm about to snap.... but if that were true I should be writing right now haha.

And I can sit here and know all these things, that when I'm stressed my thought process goes all stupid, that I'm actually a good writer, that I'm not hurting anybody by the fic I post, that writing something shit is better than not writing anything at all, but it doesn't do anything to change how I feel.

But. I did say it's not discontinued, didnt I?

If its stressing me out so much well why dont I delete it, well the answer to that is I HATE HATE HATE when authors delete their good shit.... deep down I know a lot of people love my stories and that they have some worth... that's why I haven't deleted them all...

I love writing, still.... writing for cotl feels less bad than kirby cos.. it feels like its expected to be edgy and dark, so I dont feel bad about what I write until later at least... but I still love to write and create....

I just need some time... I miss writing kirby stuff but I just can't face my own writing. I cant face myself. And it order to start writing again -- I think that's my problem. I would have to forgive myself for not being perfect. I would have to admit that , like my writing , its okay to love myself/my writing even with the manymanymany .flaws.

I can't. Not right now. Maybe later tho

I didnt have that last revelation before. Not until I wrote everything out. When I was trying to explain all my feelings to someone else , I ended up explaining it to myself. This post was long overdue anyway

Sorry