#i don't know how to describe what i mean. but i hate that sometimes when i'm just using docs

[stabbyfoxandrew]

one thing about this that i like a lot is seeing the wordcount and time it took to write

[here-there-were-dragons]

my mother is absolutely convinced of some nonsense conspiracy theory that (in her words) "originally humanity lived in peaceful all-woman societies of goddess worshippers who took care of eachother and lived in harmony, while males were roving loners that had no society and never cooperated. that changed when the men banded together and overthrew the peaceful woman-dominated societies, and enslaved us all." and, according to her, this is proof that a woman-dominated world would be innately more peaceful, and that men are innately violent and evil and should be either barred from holding any legal power or leadership roles or at least should be (again in her words) "gelded like bulls" to remove their testosterone before even being considered for such a thing.

she also evidently believes that the problem with all religions today is primarily that they aren't "goddess worshippers", because she seems to think goddess religions are inherently peaceful and pure too and seems to be especially obsessed with "Isis" in particular. the very very few times she's openly considered it unambiguously bad for some population or another to have been exterminated (she's got a bad case of devil's advocating genocide brain), she's gone out of her way to make up some crap about how said people were a peaceful society of goddess-worshippers, almost always of isis. delusions of isis-worship seem to be the only thing that ever causes her to consider any arab or middle-eastern culture, society, or ethnicity to be relatively uncomplicatedly undeserving of extermination, in fact, because every fucking time she doesn't immediately start devils-advocating it and making remarks about how "the rest of the world should box them in and let them blow eachother up" it's when she's whinging on about how whatever specific micro-ethnicity she's thinking about are or were traditional persecuted isis-worshippers.

the sole major exception to her weird fixation on isis worship justifying worthiness of life is the whole israel thing going on, in which she has consistently made very obvious that literally the only reason she's against the genocide of palestine is because it gives her an excuse to even more openly hate jewish people than she already did. and honestly i'm not sure even that's true because i think she's made some offhand remarks about palestinians having probably been peaceful isis worshipers before the jews infected them with christianity or something anyway.

so for the last, however fucking long it's been i've been constantly having to listen to her go off about how this behavior is in the jew's blood or whatever and that they literally invented all genocide because somehow the concept didn't exist before them and wouldn't have ever been invented by the rest of humanity without those jewish aliens dropping it in i fucking guess apparently and she furthermore goes on about how every single genocide and mass-oppression movement in history is directly inspired by them, ESPECIALLY the nazis, and THEN i have to listen to her rant about how, basically, wwii was something they entirely brought on themselves by "dominating the economy and treating everyone not them like shit" and the nazis were just "using their own tactics back at them". and then she goes on a rant about how the people the original jews exterminated back in the day (aka the first ever genocide, which they invented, because jews invented genocide and hate according to her) in the middle east region were peaceful matriarchal isis-worshipers.

and then she starts making comments about arabs being backwards and palestinians either being mysogynist muslims that should be boxed in to blow eachother up with everyone else or secret peaceful isis worshippers corrupted by men's cruel hand, sometimes in the same sentence, entirely dependent on which group she's more in the mood to hate at the time.

it's exhausting. beyond exhausting. her sole purpose in existence seems to be to have the singularly most exhausting set of politics physically possible to fit into one person.

just, sometimes i think, if there really is anything at all to the incredibly stupid and inexplicably popular idea that anyone or anything has a Purpose tm to exist for, i feel like my mother's purpose is to be walking proof to me of a Type Of Guy That Is Real, cause i sure as fuck would have trouble inventing this mess if it wasn't standing right in front of me spewing confusingly bipartisan hate. all of her thoughts and opinions are these long winding nonsense chains that feel like if that man carrying thing sketch about the friend with confusing politics was a person. on meth.

[running-in-the-dark]

oh, a fun* thing I'm noticing about when I'm writing something is that there's absolutely no descriptions of what anything looks like ever. not the rooms, not people's clothes, just nothing. everything happens in a blank void and no one... is wearing any clothes? no that's definitely not where I was going with that but now I've forgotten what I really wanted to say.

anyway, it's really not surprising and just mirrors how I read things written by other people too - I completely skip over any descriptions like that. can't do anything with it anyway so it's just unnecessary information to me

*not so fun

[grahamdollton]

[caparrucia]

Full offense and pun fully intended, but I genuinely think the very existence of "dead dove, do not eat" was a fucking canary in the mines, and no one really paid attention.

Because the tag itself was created as a response to a fandom-wide tendency to disregard warnings and assume tagging was exaggerated. And then the same fucking idiots reading those tags describing things they found upsetting or disturbing or just not to their taste would STILL click into the stories and give the writer's grief about it.

And as a response writers began using the tag to signal "no, really, I MEAN the tags!"

But like.

If you really think about it, that's a solution to a different problem. The solution to "I know you tagged your story appropriately but I chose to disregard the tags and warnings by reading it anyway, even though I knew it would upset me, so now I'm upset and making it your problem" is frankly a block, a ban and wide-spread blacklisting. But fandom as a whole is fucking awful at handling bad faith, insidious arguments that appeal to community inclusion and weaponize the fact most people participating in fandom want to share the space with others, as opposed to hurting people.

So instead of upfront ridiculing this kind of maladaptive attempt to foster one's own emotional self-regulation onto random strangers on the internet, fandom compromised and came up with a redundant tag in a good faith attempt to address an imaginary nuance.

There is no nuance to this.

A writer's job is to tag their work correctly. It's not to tag it exhaustively. It's not even to tag it extensively. A writer's sole obligation, as far as AO3 and arguably fandom spaces are concerned, is to make damn sure that the tags they put on their story actually match whatever is going on in that story.

That's it.

That's all.

"But what if I don't want to read X?" Well, you don't read fic that's tagged X.

"But what if I read something that wasn't tagged X?" Well, that's very unfortunate for you, but if it is genuinely that upsetting, you have a responsibility to yourself to only browse things explicitly tagged to not include X.

"But that's not a lot of fic!" Hi, you must be new here, yes, welcome to fandom. Most of our spaces are built explicitly as a reaction to There's Not Enough Of The Thing I Want, both in canon and fandom.

"But there are things on the internet that I don't like!" Yeah, and they are also out there, offline. And, here's the thing, things existing even though we personally dislike or even hate or even flat out find offensive/gross/immoral/unspeakable existing is the price we pay to secure our right to exist as individuals and creators, regardless of who finds US personally unpleasant, hateful or flat out offensive/gross/immoral/unspeakable.

"But what about [illegal thing]?!" So the thing itself is illegal, because the thing itself has been deemed harmful. But your goddamn cop-poisoned authoritarian little heart needs to learn that sometimes things are illegal that aren't harmful, and defaulting to "but illegal!" is a surefire way to end up on the wrong side of the fascism pop quiz. You're not a figure of authority and the more you demand to control and exercise authority by command, rather than leadership, the less impressive you seem. You know how you make actual, genuine change in a community? You center harm and argue in good faith to find accommodations and spread awareness of real, actual problems.

But let's play your game. Let's pretend we're all brainwashed cop-abiding little cogs that do not own a single working brain cell to exercise critical thinking with. 99% of the time, when you cry about any given thing "being illegal!!!" you're correct only so far as the THING itself being illegal. The act or object is illegal. Depiction of it is not. You know why, dipshit? Because if depiction of the thing were illegal, you wouldn't be able to talk about it. You wouldn't be able to educate about it. You wouldn't be able to reexamine and discuss and understand the thing, how and why and where it happens and how to prevent it. And yeah, depiction being legal opens the door for people to make depictions that are in bad taste or probably not appropriate. Sure. But that's the price we pay, creating tools to demystify some of the most horrific things in the world and support the people who've survived them. The net good of those tools existing outweighs the harm of people misusing them.

"You're defending the indefensible!" No, you're clumsily stumbling into a conversation that's been going on for centuries, with your elementary school understanding of morality and your bone-deep police state rot filtering your perception of reality, and insisting you figured it out and everyone else at the table is an idiot for not agreeing with you. Shut the fuck up, sit the fuck down and read a goddamn book.

[animementrash]

Things that make him blush

Character: Levi Ackerman Tags: Headcannons, implied close relationship with reader, no pronouns used for reader, non proofread, just some self indulgent shit. A/N: The Levi brainrot is going strong, sometimes I wonder why I write most of my stuff about him when theorically he isn't my top #1 anime crush (theorically). I think this has to do more about the fact that I kin him a little and by imagining pampering him somehow means pampering myself. I don't know, there's just something about him that makes me feel calm and warm inside. Anyways, hope you like it! and as always, thank you for reading! ♥

Complimenting his hands and/or hair.

He rarely gets compliments about his appearance, let alone about something so trivial as his hair or hands. When you mention how he’s got the prettiest hands in the scouts or how his hair is always so neat, he’ll just look away embarrassed and mumble a “thanks” while his cheeks turn pink.

Calling him “pretty”.

Never in his life has he been called pretty. He may have heard here and there someone calling him handsome or attractive, but pretty? Not once. His brain freezes when you call him pretty for the first time because, what do you mean he’s pretty? For him something pretty is a flower or maybe a sunset, not him. But when you say that word so tenderly and full of love to describe him it makes his heart swell and his eyes teary.

Noticing small details about his appearance.

Him being so meticulous applies not only to his surroundings but also his persona, so when you mention how his cravat is always sitting so neatly on his neck or how the collar of his shirt is always so crisp and perfectly ironed, he feels seen and it makes his cheeks blush in appreciation. Not that he will ever mention it.

Talking into his ear.

Whether is a silly joke you come up with during a meeting or an important memo that no one should hear besides him, if you get close to him and whisper into his ear all his muscles will tense and a shiver will run down his spine, there’s something about being this close to you that makes his heartbeat run wild and his cheeks blush furiously.

Touching him slightly.

Nothing will melt his heart more than casual touch; the kind of mindless, unintentional touch you may do like when you’re passing by and he’s on your way so you gently place a hand on his shoulder to let him know you’re passing through; Or if he’s too busy reading a document and in order to get his attention you squeeze his bicep softly. This kind of interactions make him a blushing mess and he almost always has to excuse himself before you notice how red his face is.

Look at him without him knowing until there’s eye contact.

Something about him looking your way and noticing you’ve been looking at him for a while make his stomach feel full of butterflies and his ears turn red with embarrassment; it isn’t the kind of was-I-being-weird embarrassment but more of a they’re-looking-at-me kind of embarrassment, he feels seen and it makes him nervous.

Do a random act of service for him.

Tell him you’ve done one of his assigned tasks before he gets the chance to do it and he’ll melt right before your eyes; especially if it’s something he hates, like dealing with the new recruits or sweet-talking a visitor so they can donate to the scouts; Though his reaction is not only reserved for big actions like those, it is more about you taking some of your time to help him, that’s what make his heart flutter and his cheeks burn.

Touching him in areas that may not be too common to do so.

This isn’t related to any kind of erotic or suggestive touch, it is more about you touching his thigh while helping him with his ODM gear, holding his hand when he helps you get up or rubbing his ankle when he complains about landing wrong on his feet; This is about you touching any part of his body that isn’t usually touched by anyone else but him. There’s something about feeling someone else’s hands on those parts of his body that make him stammer a bunch of nonsense before almost running away nervously.

[kirain]

Sigh....Galemancers really love to move the goal post when it comes to the grooming accusations huh? You found out Gale was a fully grown MAN when Mystra slept with him so now you have to say, "Well then he was emotionally groomed and the power dynamic is too vast." Mystra is a neutral good goddess because she's Midnight, who was a neutral good human. She hates that her magic has to be used for good and evil. Ao makes her share it evenly but she'd rather not. She would never do anything to hurt Gale. The writers of the game even confirmed she's not a groomer. People like you also downplay the point of Gale's entire story arc, which is he should've listened to Mystra! The whole point of his personal quest is he needs to learn to humble himself and listen to his goddess! He has no one to blame for his downfall but himself.

There's no "post" to move, anon. The game and lore give us all the context we need. Grooming doesn't only apply to children, and people have proven right and left that Mystra is terrible at relationships. She's petty and abusive when she isn't obeyed by her partners, and that's been the case with all of her iterations. Even the narrator describes her as a "jealous goddess" when you visit her shrine. Plus, your information is wrong on many accounts; the most pertinent being that the Mystra of BG3/5E isn't technically Midnight. Cyric and Shar killed her, reducing her to her godly essence (lore-wise that means she died). The current Mystra is an amalgamation of the vestiges of Mystryl, Mystra, and Midnight, as told in the novel Elminster Enraged.

Now, this is about to get complicated, as it always does with Mystra, so from here on out I'll be referring to Mystra #1 as Mystryl, Mystra #2 as Mystra #2, Mystra #3 as Midnight, and Mystra #4 as 5E Mystra. Alright, let's get started.

Elminster had to reform the fallen goddess by giving her fragments of all three iterations of Mystra. Since all three iterations are combined, our current 5E Mystra embodies the good, the bad, the beautiful, and the ugly. There's even a conversation with The Simbul (one of the Seven Sisters and a Chosen of Mystra) where the newly reformed 5E Mystra speaks of Elminster as her "longest lover". This puzzles The Simbul because that was something of the old Mystra (Mystra #2), not Midnight. The new 5E Mystra replies that she has become a combination of the memories of Mystryl, Mystra #2, and Midnight. This is all in chapter 25-30 of Elminster Enraged. I know it's confusing, but in short: 5E Mystra is not Midnight anymore, and the leading mind is clearly that of Mystra #2, hence her extremely poor judgement—a recurring theme with her character.

Mystryl and Mystra #2 were originally lawful neutral. The alignment changed to neutral good when Midnight took up the mantle, because Midnight herself was a neutral good person. But now it seems 5E Mystra is true neutral, because you are right, anon; Ao won't allow her to do whatever she wants. Midnight tried and was forbidden. 5E Mystra absolutely does not have the same level of humanity or kindness as Midnight, and that may be because Mystryl had no human consciousness and Mystra #2 was a mess.

Regardless of her alignment, she must embody her domain by Ao's decree, which means she needs to spread magic across all Realmspace. Since she has to maintain the balance, she approaches good, neutral, and evil mages with potential opportunities. This isn't a criticism (that's just how godhood works), but rather proof that Mystra is absolutely capable of good and bad. I don't want to hear any more of this "she's a precious little bean and Gale's victim" nonsense. Even if she wants to be, she's not. As Kikitakite said in their post, she's done some fucked up things.

Whether or not the writers intended to make Mystra a groomer, that's exactly what they did. Sometimes writers don't realise they've written an abusive character until they're criticised. Take writer of The Notebook, Nicholas Sparks, for example. He didn't realise he'd written Noah to be an abusive piece of shit until Ryan Gosling pointed it out himself. Gosling has gone on record many times to say he hates Noah, and experts have labeled him an unrealistic and emotionally abusive/manipulative character. The same can be said for Stephenie Meyer, who wrote some of the most celebrated toxic relationships in recent media—with a dash of borderline pedophilia on the side. Therapists have weighed in extensively to tell people that Bella and Edward's relationship isn't healthy and shouldn't be emulated in real life. Indeed, perhaps the best thing to come out of the entire franchise is Robert Pattinson's hatred of Edward and the series as a whole. Jacob's actor, Taylor Lautner, even argued with Meyer's on set because of how weird the "imprinting" segment was and he didn't want to come off as predatory. Meyer argued it was "romantic". 😕

Even if you don't agree Gale was groomed, Mystra is flagrantly responsible for his insecurities and she never should've put her hands on him. The power dynamic is too vast, and even god Gale (conceited as he is) realises it by the end. He only stays in a relationship with Tav if they allow him to ascend them alongside him as his equal. He recognises that anything else would be unhealthy and unacceptable. Also, I researched high and low regarding your claim, but none of the devs have dispelled the idea that Mystra is a groomer. In fact, the most I could find was one dev simply saying, "To Gale it was love, but he didn't know any better." If anything, that only confirms he was confused and didn't know what to do. Their "relationship" was a stunningly horrible idea from the start and that's not on Gale, it's on the literal cosmic being who initiated it.

Moreover, Gale was very likely 17 when Mystra revealed herself to him. This perfectly fits into the 5E Forgotten Realms timeline. If so, no, he absolutely wasn't a grown man. He was a teenager. Mystra may not have slept with him until he was in his 20's, but that still makes it a disgusting teacher-turned-lover situation. Gale even tells us he was "young" when she took him into her fold, and he was only eight years old when Elminster started their lessons. Remember, Elminster is Mystra's biggest apologist. He would've taught Gale to revere her, which means there was almost never a point in his life when Mystra wasn't the main focus. You can tell by the way he speaks about her in Act 1. He's in awe, he's excited, he's proud she chose him. That does something to a child. Something irreversible. If anything, Elminster is complicit in what happened. I've said this before, but he couldn't even be bothered to visit Gale himself. He sent a simulacrum.

As for your accusation that I'm "downplaying" Gale's story arc—you're damn right I am, because the writers made me! Most D&D players I know aren't very happy with how Mystra is portrayed in the game, and that's probably because even they know she isn't presented in a very flattering light. If you really think about it, it's obvious what the writers were going for, but they failed. For example, you said Gale should've listened to Mystra, right? Well, in Act 1 he admits his ambition was his undoing, blames himself for his downfall, and by Act 2 he's literally ready to off himself for her. In fact, he's the only one who sees her ultimatum as justified. Every other companion says she's being cruel and unreasonable. If Gale actually blows himself up at the end of Act 2, the results are catastrophic. The brain is destroyed, yes, but the tadpoles, free of the Absolute's control, complete their transformation and infect/enslave the entire Sword Coast. Anon. She. Is. Stupid. Even the Narrator is like, "You wanna ... you wanna try that again?"

The entirety of Act 2 is Gale learning he shouldn't listen to Mystra. And then she has the audacity to lecture him in Act 3? If he'd listened, it would've been the end of everything. Maybe if Mystra was as infallible as she pretends to be, she would've put her three brains together and came up with a better, less vindictive plan. Because make no mistake, she wanted Gale to blow up in Act 2, which is ridiculous. I know this is an uncomfortable topic for some people, but gods aren't perfect, especially in fiction. They're flawed. They're selfish. Some of them are straight up assholes. The real irony of Gale's arc isn't that he has no one to blame but himself, it's that Mystra should blame herself. At no point does she even consider if she's being unreasonable or unfair. There's no self reflection whatsoever. And the writers expect me to think Gale's full of himself? I wonder where he got it.

Probably from his teacher. ✋🎤

[cityofmeliora]

notes / thoughts on Terzo's characterization (Terzo is so disappointed and depressed and i love him)

a few weeks ago i saw this post from slavghoul which has snippets of TF describing the Papas. it includes this quote:

“He represents this frustrated old guy who hates everyone, especially himself. But despite his wounds and his darkness, he has a sense of humour and is endearing, like most of my heroes. The late actor Christopher Lee was an inspiration to me. In many ways, he is Papa.” (Metallian 7/2015)

i thought this quote was really interesting because i'd never seen anyone talking about that side of Terzo before. Terzo hating "everyone, especially himself" felt at odds with the charming personality he typically displayed. i wanted to know how that developed and where his "wounds and darkness" came from. so i did some digging for quotes on Terzo's history and characterization. here are my notes + thoughts:

something that came up again and again in my research is that he is actually quite antisocial when he's not performing. it seems like he didn't want people to know anything about him past his stage persona.

TOUR MANAGER: No one in the crew really gets to see or speak to Papa, ever. Only Anna and myself have access. He is not in the building and then he'll just be there, just for show time. The only thing you really need to know about Papa is what you see of him on stage. Ghost - The Devil's Hands (Documentary) (2017)

he almost never interacted with any of the nameless ghouls or the tour crew. in fact, he really went out of his way to avoid them. he traveled separately, would appear right before the start of a show, and then he would disappear as soon as it ended. in "The Devil's Hands", it showed they sometimes had trouble locating him when he was needed.

With this new era, can you introduce Papa Emeritus III? NAMELESS GHOUL: I don't know him very well yet. We haven't really done our mileage with him, so I am sure that we will find out. But he seems nice. He seems okay. Obviously, he's very close relatives with Papa number two, who was a little bit of a hmm. I'm sure that he isn't like, completely different, but we'll find out. He's a bit of a recluse, and he sort of travels on his own. And he sort of appears when we're due onstage and then he disappears when we're offstage. So yeah, I guess we have a little bit of a social disconnect there, but I don't see a big problem with that. I mean he seems to be doing well on his own, and I don't know if he has a little harem somewhere that occupies his time offstage, I guess. I'm assuming that. Loud TV (July 2015)

INTERVIEWER: How has it been working with the third Papa? How is he fitting into the group? NAMELESS GHOUL: We like him, actually. He seems to be quite nice. Obviously, we haven't really done our "miles" with him yet, so we don't know him that well. And he doesn't travel with us- he sort of goes separately everywhere, and he appears just before the show and then he just disappears. So we haven't really had the time to sort of fully get to know him. But overall, he seems quite a joyful chap. Metal Injection (September 2015)

predictably, his bandmates did not know him very well. but they always remarked that they liked him and that he seemed like a nice, chill guy. (they also assumed he had a harem that he spent time with when he wasn't performing, which is probably not true, considering how much effort he put into avoiding people whenever possible.)

NAMELESS GHOUL: We don't really socialize with Papa, so… But he seems nice! But he's very occupied in his harem. [...] He's a little bit cooler. He seems to be the nicer of the two brothers --I don't know if there are two-- but he seems to have, I don't know, a kinder mother, probably, or something that makes him slightly.. INTERVIEWER: A little different. NAMELESS GHOUL: Yeah, he's a little bit different. AMBY (October 2015)

i don't think his charming, pleasant demeanor was just an act, though. i think it did come from a genuine part of himself... he wasn't always an antisocial recluse.

before he became Papa, he was a cardinal in Krakow, Poland. Bishop Necropolitus Cracoviensis (the character representing Zbigniew Bielak, the artist who does the album art for Ghost) characterized younger Terzo as having enthusiasm in all his endeavors. he was always a very devoted member of the clergy who had big dreams of progress and modernization for the Ministry and the world. he had a strong interest in Futurist art and philosophy.

Bp. Necropolitus Cracoviensis remembers: "...our relationship goes a long way back to the times before his papacy, that is when he was still a cardinal in my hometown, in Cracovia...(...) Although we had our share of juvenile recklessness - be it indulging his beloved cream pies - allegedly verging on six hundred sixty six portions a year but that must be a rumor I believe, or wild parties at the attic of seminary school (laughs) - even in his formative years, he remained a focused man of vision, looking far into the future, always addressing his people's needs and longings to keep our church together in those turbulent, rapidly changing times (...) there were so many temptations to syndicate among our good people (...) (...) We would sit down to studying exciting Futurist manifestos, sketched the blueprints of utopian metropoles, spiked with shiny skyscrapers stabbing at the heavens belly... Wantonly swollen zeppelins would to carry our gospel of indulgence to the farthest corners of the globe to summon and enslave. (...) Forged in nostalgia of steam and fire, this brave new world of ambition, vice, lust and greed - all so inherent to the enlightened modernity, was always with him through all these years. And it is now - when our church continues to grow stronger and wealthier under wise reign of Papa Emeritus III - that these visions may finally be witnessed and embraced in the preachings of 'Meliora' - his most contemporary and humane Encyclical." (https://www.facebook.com/thebandghost/posts/994031900615606)

those core values of ambition, vice, lust, and greed stayed with him when he became Papa. though he had a revolutionary spirit, he's actually described as "less rebellious" in Metal Myths. Terzo took his job as Papa very seriously, and he cared about being successful and achieving his goals. while he and Secondo certainly had vice, lust, and greed in common, it was Terzo's ambition that truly set him apart.

"It felt like the goal was to take Papa II's sense of modernity and remove the recklessness." Metal Myths: Ghost Pt. 2 (April 2022)

How would you describe the personality of Papa Emeritus III compared to his predecessors? NAMELESS GHOUL: "First of all, Papa Emeritus III is an entertainer! He loves projectors, he loves the public, and he loves success. The first Papa Emeritus was someone very rigid, very strict, and very solemn. A real son of a bitch! (laughs) To be honest, we don’t miss him at all! Papa Emeritus II was a pervert a little bit sadistic, and, in hindsight, I think he wasn’t very at ease on stage. He wasn’t a showman, unlike Papa Emeritus III! Him, he’s the guide we missed to rise up the quality of our shows, to reach the step above and communicate with our fans." (MyRock #44 (2017) translated from French by @ a-wandering-ghoulette)

unfortunately, his ambition eventually led him to become disillusioned and depressed.

Terzo looked forward to becoming Papa. he worked so hard for it his whole life, only to be confronted with the realization that his time as Papa --and therefore his achievements-- would be limited.

he was a nice guy, but he was also was egotistical. he was a showman and an intellectual, and he thought very highly of himself.

NAMELESS GHOUL: He's a little bit more chill. But obviously, all the Papas are definitely pompous assholes. INTERVIEWER: That's part of the job. SPECIAL GHOUL: That's one of the criterias, the prerequisites, that you have to be this sort of flamboyant diva, know-all, show-off. Metal Injection (September 2015)

his self-hatred came from his inability to be the person he wanted to be. it's not that he felt like he couldn't measure up, it's that he felt like he wasn't allowed to express his full potential. Terzo's mindset was "i know i'm good enough. and i could prove it if they would just let me." but he wasn't really in charge, and his vision was at odds with the goals of Sister Imperator.

Terzo felt so stifled, it makes sense that he became a "frustrated old guy who hates everyone, especially himself."

and i think this is the reason for the paradox of him having a kind, charming personality onstage and being unsociable offstage. he still gave it his all. he did the best he could with the time and resources he was allowed. that zealous man of the people was still in there somewhere. but he felt betrayed by the clergy, the organization he dedicated his life to. his career ended up being unfulfilling and he was ultimately really bitter about the way things turned out.

he was good. he never got to be great.

[starbop]

How SMELLY all the Honkai Boys are...

Here's my ranking of HSR boys based on how much I think they smell. Explanations + headcanons below the cut!

The Top Stinkers

Caelus literally digs through garbage for fun. I don't think I need to defend their spot as the #1 stinkiest mf in this whole game. 11/10 on the stink scale.

Sampo also has the energy of someone who enjoys garbage. I, for one, have no idea where that thing has been and I don't think I want to know. He is also known to hide in piles of snow when need be, meaning he's just out there rolling around on the ground sometimes. 10/10 would not sniff again.

Luka is the sweatiest man alive. But he looks SO good doing it. The sparks and smoke his arm produces, while very cool to look at, do not help his smelliness rating. 8/10 because he at least has good reasons for smelling funky.

I do not think Blade has ever taken a shower. You could fry a whole chicken with the oil from his hair. 9/10.

Boothill smells like a mixture of motor oil, grease, and sweat. Not a smell I would personally hate, but objectively not a good one. Yeehaw/10.

The Smelly

I feel like, in theory, you could smell like anything in the Dreamscape. I just also feel like Gallagher would not choose to smell good. 7/10.

I really want to believe that he'd smell good, but the second he finishes his magical girl transformation sequence, Imbibitor Lunae reeks with the smell of seaweed. I will deduct a stinky point from my initial rating because some people may think this smells good. They are wrong. 7/10.

Neutral Smelling

Yanqing should reek from all the time he spends fighting and training, but Jing Yuan is not letting that boy leave the house without taking a bath. 6/10.

Arlan bathes regularly, but I can't imagine him having a particularly strong smell. Asta will occasionally gift him some lightly scented soaps, though. If anything, he smells vaguely like Peppy. 5/10.

Gepard might get a little sweaty under all those layers, but he doesn't have a strong scent one way or the other. 4/10.

I Am Sniffing Respectfully

I just KNOW that the Astral Express has the nicest bathrooms in the universe. Dan Heng and Welt stay smelling FRESH. 3/10.

(Though Dan Heng has ended up smelling like bubblegum on a few occasions after borrowing March's shampoo...)

Misha smells like a sweet dream. I don't know what dreams smell like, but that's the only way to describe Misha's scent. Vaguely like cotton candy, perhaps. Ethereal/10.

Jing Yuan takes bubble baths with Mimi and you can NOT change my mind. I can totally picture him dozing off peacefully after a nice, warm bath. I-can-overlook-the-cat-hair/10.

We've seen Ratio take SO many baths at this point that I don't think you could find a single speck of dirt on that man's perfect body if you tried. How are his fingers not just permanently pruney? I hate him so much. 1/10.

I AM SNIFFING DISRESPECTFULLY

Argenti smells like roses and sunshine. 0/10 smelliness can I please bottle your sweat sir

Luocha has to smell great with all those flowers he summons. I would grind him down to make potpourri. Not sure about the coffin, though. -2/10.

And as for Aventurine? Cologne. SO much cologne. Whether this is a good or bad thing is up to you, but he certainly has A Smell. Subjective/10.

[mystic-writings]

closing time | robin buckley

PAIRING — robin buckley x fem!reader

SUMMARY — robin has a crush on you. what happens when you're locked in keith's office after the store closes?

WARNINGS — fluff, banter, love confessions, mentions of panic/anxiety & season three

WORD COUNT — 2,353

NOTES — something short and sweet for my beloved robin!! i hope y'all enjoy and don't forget to leave feedback please! also, this was very loosely inspired by sparks fly by taylor swift

masterlist | navigation

Robin Buckley was utterly, helplessly, in love. 

There was no denying it anymore; Robin was completely in love with you. She would light up every time you walked into class; her heart stopped every time you smiled at her, and spluttered back to life when you’d say her name. Her mind ran away from her every time you shared a shift at the video store, full of daydreams of what you and her would even do if you dated, only to be shut down by the brutal fear of rejection. 

 But you didn’t know that.

As far as Robin Buckley was aware, you only thought of her as your anxious, rambling friend who, more often than not, spent her shifts making fun of your co-worker Steve and his almost inexplicable lack of game. 

Most of the time that she was around you, Robin was forced to ‘act normal’, as if she’d ever done that before. It usually resulted in useless rambles about something weird she’d read about, like gingivitis or how most of the backdrop scenes from Star Wars were actually just still paintings. But you usually seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, and that took some of the uncomfortable anxiety away. And sometimes, you’d even laugh. A genuine one, too, and it would make Robin’s day.

Tonight was a lot like that. It was Friday, and the typical customer buzz around the store was enough to keep you, Robin, and Steve occupied for a while. But by 9pm, the clientele died out, and the three of you were behind the counter playing a round of Crazy 8s. 

“Hah!” Robin said, slamming her palm to the pile of cards. She pulled it back to reveal an 8 of clubs, a proud smile on her face. “Suck it, Steve! Last card,” she huffed, leaning on the counter as you and Steve stared expectantly at her. “Oh, right. And it’s hearts now.”

Steve huffed, glancing at his cards before taking one from the pick-up pile. “Dick move, Buckley.”

“Dick face, Harrington.”

“What does that even mean?” You asked, looking at yours before placing a 3 on the pile. 

Robin just shrugged, her lips forming a smirk as she placed her final card down. “I win!” 

“Alright, I’m out,” Steve huffed, tossing his cards on the pile. You couldn’t help the overwhelming amount of clubs he had, causing you to stifle a giggle. “See you losers tomorrow.” 

“Good luck with that, Steve, ‘cause I won’t be here.” You mentioned, scooping the cards into your hands. “Mom’s taking me to Indianapolis for some family thing. Had to cancel my morning shift, which means…” 

Steve, who had been retrieving his jacket and car keys from under the counter, turned back with what you could only describe as a look of horror painted on his face. “No,” 

“Yep,” you said, popping the ‘p’.

“No! You can’t do this to me, Y/n!” 

“I already did, Steve.” You began shuffling the cards. 

“But Keith always smells like eggs in the mornings! And he hates me,” Steve whined. “I can’t believe you.” 

“Sorry,” you shrugged half-heartedly. “Can’t un-cancel my shift now, Keith’ll be pissed if I call him this late.” 

Robin scoffed, arms folded across her chest as she watched you shuffle the cards intently. “No, he won’t. He’s practically in love with you.” 

You shuddered at the thought. “Ew, gross. Please never say those words to me again, Robin. I beg of you. I think I’ll die, or… contract something if I think about it for more than 30 seconds.” 

“Okay, okay, I’ve gotta get outta here,” Steve said, spinning his keys on his finger. “See you weirdos later.” 

You and Robin shouted farewells as he exited the store, the bell ringing, signifying his departure. Glancing up at Robin from your focus on the deck of cards, you asked, “Another round?” 

The girl nodded, a shaky exhale leaving her lips. You were closing together, and while it wasn’t uncommon, time alone with you was something Robin treasured. And the way you looked up at her through your eyelashes… Robin was going to be combating the butterflies in her stomach all night, it seemed. 

The next hour seemed to fly by with no issues. 

No customers came by after Steve left, so you and Robin played cards and watched a movie on the big TV hanging from the ceiling until your watch beeped, signalling 10pm — closing time. 

The pair of you worked in tandem, one of you counting the cash and working out what the deposit would be while the other made sure that everything looked nice and that the return carts were empty — of course they were, Steve had done them long before he left. 

Disaster struck when you went into Keith’s office to finish closing for the night. 

The analog clock on Keith’s desk read 10:18pm when you passed it, Robin just behind you. All that was left was to write up the deposit in an email and send it to the regional inbox. It was a delicate procedure, to say the least, but with Robin reading everything out to you as you typed it up made things a lot easier. 

“You got that?” Robin asked, hopping off the desk beside you. 

You glanced at her, fingers typing away. “Yeah, Robin, I think I can remember how many five dollar bills were put in the deposit envelope.”

Robin snorted beside you, the already-open safe door creaking as she pulled it. Slipping the envelope inside, along with the deposit slip, she shut the door with a loud clang, causing you to flinch slightly. 

“And…” you pressed a few final buttons on the keyboard, the computer trilling as the email finished sending. “We’re off! Let’s shut this place down and get the hell out of here.”

“As if I’d actually want to stay,” Robin grimaced as you powered down the computer. “This place smells like…” Robin sniffed the air, her face scrunching further. “Cheetos and B.O.” 

You giggled, pushing the chair into the desk. “Gross,” 

Robin made her way to the office door, a giddy smile on her face. “What? I’m right! It’s like Keith doesn’t know what air freshener is. Or a shower.”

She pulled on the door, her smile falling as she twisted the knob. 

“What? Robin, what is it?” 

“I— I don’t know,” Robin twisted the doorknob again, pulling the door toward her, to no avail. She twisted again, frantically, panic setting into her gut. “I think it’s locked!” 

“No,” you nearly gasped. “It can’t be locked!” 

“Okay, well, I’m turning the doorknob and it’s not moving, so…!” Robin said, voice shaking as she turned to look back at you. 

“Let me try, Robin. Maybe it’s just stuck.” You suggested. Robin relented, stepping to the side as you grasped the cool metal. You twisted and pulled, your movements growing frustrated and frantic as you realised that the door wasn’t stuck — you were, in fact, locked in. “Damn it!” You exclaimed, kicking the door. “I can’t believe this,” 

Robin’s hands flew to her hair, grasping at her scalp as she tried to calm herself down. She watched you begin to pace, chewing on your thumbnail, thinking of something, anything you could do to get yourselves out of this office. 

You were suddenly beginning to feel cramped, like the walls were closing in on you. But you took a breath, eyes scanning the room, landing on the phone conveniently placed on Keith’s desk. “Ha!” 

Robin watched you rush to the other side of the desk, picking up the receiver and beginning to dial a number. “Are you calling the police?”

“The police?” You scrunched up your nose, holding the receiver to your ear. “No, that’s stupid. I’m calling Steve.” 

“Calling the police when we’re locked in a room with no way out is stupid?” Robin scoffed, taking up your previous state of pacing. 

The phone rang in your ear as you sat down on the chair. “Of course it is, Robin. Steve has a set of keys, and there’s pretty much a guarantee that no one’s going to answer a Friday night call. They’re all out busting parties and pulling over drunk drivers. They’re gonna put us on the back burner. But Steve won’t. Besides, he’s not doing anything tonight, his date cancelled on him this morning.” 

Robin barely acknowledged your words, mind running wild with the thoughts running through her head. Steve would help, of course he would. Ever since Starcourt, he knew how much Robin hated being stuck somewhere with no way to get out. She just hoped he’d get here quickly. Being stuck in a room with no real way out was one thing, but being stuck in a room with the girl you’re practically in love with was something entirely different. 

“Steve!” You practically shouted with joy.

“Jesus,” Steve groaned. “Tone it down, please! What’s up?”

You huffed, leaning back in Keith’s chair. “Look, Robin and I locked ourselves in the office, somehow, and we need you to come by with your keys and let us out.” Steve sighed on the other line. “Pretty please? I’ll buy you Burger King on Sunday.” 

“Fine. But I’m taking my sweet time getting there. I’m on the other side of town, if you even care to know.” 

“I know where you live, Steve.” You rolled your eyes. “Just hurry up. I think Robin’s losing her mind in here.”

“When is she not losing her mind?” 

“Steve,” you warned, sighing a farewell as he hung up on you. “Okay, he’ll be here soon. I think.” 

“God,” Robin groaned, palms pressed to her forehead. “My mom’s gonna kill me. My cousins are coming into town for the week and I’m supposed to clean tomorrow and instead I’m stuck here, in a room that smells like death, where I’ll probably actually die! Of, like, dehydration or starvation or something meanwhile my cousin Evan is happily sitting on my mom’s couch eating cookies or something!” 

“Starvation?” You asked yourself as you stood from the chair. “Robin, it’ll be fine. Steve’s on his way,” 

The girl barely acknowledged you, still pacing, arms flying around as she spoke. “And, by the way, starvation? A really painful way to die! It hurts, Y/n, a lot. Or, at least, that’s what I’ve read, but who am I to judge! I mean, I’ve never starved to death before! Not until now, at least!” 

You sighed, stepping in Robin’s path, making sure to grab her shoulders firmly, eyes locked onto hers. “Robin,” you said, eyebrows raised as the girl fell silent. “Steve should be here anytime soon. We won’t starve to death. All we have to do is wait out the half an hour before he gets here, max. We’ll be fine.” 

Robin’s eyebrows cinched before she shook her head. “But what if something bad happens, Y/n? Then what are we gonna do? We’ll die! And I can’t die! I haven’t seen Evan since I was 9! He lives in Pennsylvania! Hershey, Pennsylvania! Do you have any idea how far that is?”

“It’s, like, an 8 hour drive, Robin,” you said, voice quiet. Your eyes stayed locked on hers, watching the anxiety swim through her green irises. It was like you could see the gears turning, clicking and grinding to form more anxious thoughts for her to spew out in a breathless panic. 

“Not to mention the smell in here! It’s horrible! I mean, seriously, could Keith not afford a fan, or-or some sort of air freshener! And the windows! They’re so small, and they barely open, and—” 

Robin’s words ceased when you pulled her forward, crashing your lips onto hers. Her muscles tensed for a moment, eyes wide, until she realised you were kissing her. You were kissing her. Robin barely had the time to kiss you back, to place her hands gingerly on your waist before you were pulling back, sucking in air. 

“What was that for?” Robin asked, voice squeaking. 

You only smiled. “I really needed you to stop talking.” You joked, a hesitant hand reaching up to brush some of Robin’s hair from her face. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to do that for, like, 6 months.” 

“Oh,” Robin said, nodding briefly before she smiled, cheeks burning red. “Can you do it again?” 

You smiled wide, nodding ecstatically before placing your hands on Robin’s neck, pulling her closer so that you could kiss her again. 

It was slower this time, a test of the waters as you both melted into one another’s touch. A delicate kiss, one that said a lot more than either of you could find the words for. Robin’s fingers dug into the flesh of your waist, her mind barely comprehending what was happening right now. 

The rest of the world seemed to fall away at that moment, so much so that neither of you paid attention to the soundscape around you, failing to hear the sound of keys jingling in the lock — the door to the office squealing as it opened, and the subsequent screams of Steve Harrington. 

“What the hell, guys!” Steve screamed, covering his eyes as you and Robin jumped away from one another, lips swollen and cheeks burning. “I leave you by yourselves for an hour and a half and you’ve got your tongues down each other’s throats!” 

“Thanks, Steve,” you said, sheepish as you took Robin’s hand, leading her past his gobsmacked form. 

“You owe me a hell of a lot more than just Burger King for making me see that.” 

“Sure thing!” You called out as you and Robin slung your bags over your shoulders.

“Thank you, dingus!” Robin shouted over her shoulder, smiling wide at Steve, following you out of the store.

You huffed a laugh and smiled at Robin, swinging your hands as you grabbed your keys from your pocket. “Want a ride home?”

“Sure,” Robin smiled, relishing the feeling of your hand in hers. She made sure to keep it there during the entire drive to her house, and as often as she could after that, too.

forever taglist: @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @heliads

robin buckley taglist: @sunshine-daisies-library (open!)

taglist form here!

[appleblueberry-pie]

I just read through all your 42 Miles posts and I am going to explode. I swear, I’m so obsessed he looks shy in comparison. On that note, what if the reader finds out about his yandere behavior…and is perfectly fine with it. Maybe they even encourage it, giggling like a schoolgirl when they catch him following them home and giving him extra kisses when he tells them how he killed the guy who flirted with them. Definitely not just describing myself here-

I LIKE IT. JUST A LITTLE BIT<3

Miles gets greedy when it comes to you. He shouldn't, but he just hates sharing. So, using the tools he has, he gets rid of all possible competition. It's dangerous, it's reckless, and it's not smart to do, but you make him do stupid, dangerous and reckless things. Can you blame him? You're everything he's ever asked for in a girl.

So sweet to him, giving him all of your attention whenever you can. Texting him often, reciprocating his energy and letting him give the love and energy he feels you deserve. And you deserve every drop of his energy.

But sometimes, he takes it too far. He's been mean-mugging everyone lately. His friends don't like him as much because they say he's been paranoid over 'some random bitch he be talkin to'. And he doesn't let things like talking behind his back, or yours, be taken lightly. Which is why they don't talk to him the next day, or the day after that.

And it's also why people don't talk to you anymore either. Or any of your male friends. Or your girl friends.....he drove them all away. Every time someone sees you, he's not too far behind. And you don't do a damn thing about it. Which causes rumors to spread, but they die as quickly as they fire up. Because he always finds the source before shit goes south. Still, you don't do a damn thing about it.

You don't necessarily encourage him to do it, but he always gets the same amount of love from you whether he gives hell to everyone else or not. So, he keeps doing it. If he wants all of you, he's going to have all of you.

If someone asks about you in a crooked tone, he gets iffy about it, and now they scared. If someone mentions your name, their feeling that sharp stare on the back of their neck, telling them to let their tongue slip one more time. Everyone's getting the hint and he'll make sure of it.

You always smile looking back at him when he follows you in the hallways or when he's following you home.

You let him give you overly-obsessive notes in your locker. You let him like all of your stories, all of your posts. You let him stalk every single one of your socials and even the ones no one is supposed to know abut. You let him blow up your phone.

When he finally has the courage to talk to your face, you two have been by each other's side like glue. You let him whisper in your ear when he doesn't want a damn soul to hear what you guys are talking about. You let him buy you lunch every day. He always holds your hand tight as shit when walking you to class. He can be a little late. He does almost everything for you. He's real good at helping you with homework(and getting rid of niggas that bother you), and it makes your stress load so much lighter.

He's such good boyfriend material.

[coraniaid]

It’s always very odd to me when I read criticism of A Song Of Ice And Fire online (by which I mainly mean: on Tumblr) which takes for granted that this is some sort of obsessively dark and edgy and mean-spirited fantasy, because ... that's not what the series is actually like at all?  

I mean, yes, some awful (and graphically described) stuff happens in these books, but this is at heart a deeply optimistic and almost embarrassingly romantic story, full of a very obvious sympathy and tenderness for the unhappy and the hurt and the powerless.  The weird gritty-for-the-sake-of-it books that the series's detractors describe wouldn't have recurring POV characters like Sansa Stark or Tyrion Lannister or Davos Seaworth or Samwell Tarly or Brienne of Tarth.  They certainly wouldn't obviously empathize with and respect these characters to the extent the actual books do.  They wouldn't be so obsessive about the importance of hope and kindness and understanding in an otherwise uncaring world.  Whenever the text suggests the world isn't fair or kind there's always an unspoken "but it should be,and I wish it was". You are clearly not meant to think that characters like Roose Bolton or Twyin Lannister are being held up as role models to emulate!

I mean, maybe the TV show is more like that -- I gave up on the show after only a couple of seasons, it was a terrible adaptation of the source material, even before the final season that everyone apparently hated -- but so much of the open disdain for ASOIAF I come across on here reads like the people writing the posts haven't even read a single one of the books. Yes, the popularity of ASOIAF inspired a lot of "dark" fantasy novels that actually are bleakly nihilistic and seem to revel in their characters meeting pointlessly sad and violent ends, but Martin's books are just not like that.

Yes, lots of the world-building for ASOIAF is patently ridiculous, and yes, key parts of the plot are just cribbed from the War of the Roses (or, rather, from historical novels like Sharon Penman's The Sunne in Splendour)  and yes, Martin has said some very stupid things in interviews while busy not writing the series.  And no, I'm not sure I could actually bring myself to recommend the books to anyone who's not read them before (especially when it's so unlikely that the series will ever be finished, let alone in a satisfying way).  I haven’t reread them myself in years.

But honestly, back when I was a quietly miserable teenager these books really meant a lot to me, in part because they are the opposite of the caricature often discussed online.  Yes, they acknowledged that sometimes the world was awful and unbearable.  It is!  But they also suggested that it was still important to try to be fair and kind and to appreciate the moments when things were better.  They are books about trying to do the right thing even when it’s so hard as to seem impossible and nobody else will even know that you tried, written in a way that takes for granted that “the right thing” is also the just and the optimistic and the quietly heroic thing; that doing the right thing when you afraid is more praiseworthy than never being afraid at all. And it is baffling to me how often I see people talking about them now who don't actually seem to have ever even skimmed them but are still vocally passionate in their hatred of something that, as they describe it, simply doesn't exist.

[doberbutts]

So I'm going to ask an honest question here and ask you please explain in layman's terms. Every trans person I know irl has no concept of the transandrophobia discourse but every time I see more of it online I'm...unsettled, and it takes a lot to power through all the terminology.

I initially was really receptive to transandrophobia because the rationale behind being against it sounded stupid and akin to label discourse in the queer community. I saw "being a man is not an axis of oppression therefore you don't get your Own Word" and thought that was pedantic nonsense, that language doesn't need to adhere to that rule, and that it's helpful to have a term designated towards transmasculine experiences so people can find those experiences easier. Not that trans women's experiences aren't also beneficial! But that, well, obviously no matter how similar the experience birds of a feather and that sense of comfort of sharing identity still matters. This is true for other issues of identity too, I find, weather that's a good thing or a bad thing idk, but it is human.

The thing is I follow a lot of transwomen and have been seeing some alarms being raised about the community being formed around this word. You blocked one of the most egregious offenders so I trust you (which is why I'm asking sorry) I've seen a lot of misogyny and essentialism from people using the term "transandrophobia" and more egregiously "transmisandry." Idk your opinion on the latter term (I haven't scrolled down far enough on your blog, sorry if you talked about this before) but to me it's unconscionable. I was taught that transandrophobia existed as a term specifically NOT to use that term, that elevating misandry to a legitimate issue was dangerous for obvious reasons and it was one of the reasons why I was so supportive of transandrophobia. To me, it seemed like an awareness that misogyny was the prevailing issue behind all issues of gender oppression, but when I actually look at the tag I...get uncomfortable.

Blogs I follow have repeatedly been upset at misogyny from this community, and have been using the term "transandrobro" to describe behavior they find akin to cis MRAs. I've truly seen horrible things with hundreds, sometimes thousands of notes to it that do, unfortunately, feel like women are being blamed for the plight of trans men. I've seen cis people say they were originally on MRA reddits and then came to tumblr to "confront the misandry directly" only to wholeheartedly adopt transandrophobia into their worldview. It's hard because I KNOW I shouldn't judge a community based on a few crazies but it truly does feel sometimes like "transandrophobia" gives misogynists a venue to air their woman-hating to an eager audience, kinda like how "Karen" has been co-opted beyond the og meaning of being for racist white woman to any woman being mildly rude.

So like, here it is: can transandrophobia exist without being co-opted by misogynists? Is there a threshold of proliferation for misogynists destroying this word until a new one needs to be made? Or will every word trying to identify the transmasculine experience be inevitably co-opted by misogynists because misogynists are just that powerful, so people should double down harder on the word and work to push misogynists out?

(Also am I going crazy, or did this word a year ago used to have a WAY better community than the one I see nowadays. Back then I could find your blog and really compassionate people easily, and now it's just...bad.)

It is a little hard to understand some of this post but I will do my best to answer what I think is being asked.

To put simply, I think the reason why it was better a year or two ago is because the majority of the people who were actually trying to further the conversation and not just circle jerk in the echo chamber got chased off. Transandrophobia, anti-transmasculinity, transandromisia, transmascphobia... the guys who coined these are largely either not posting at all anymore or post far far less than they used to. They were harassed and the constant exposure to transphobia made them shut down their blogs for their own mental health. Not all of them, but a lot of the so-called "big names" had this happen.

Even I stopped posting for a while and shuttered the doors for a bit outside of a long queue of dog photos because of how much it was affecting my mental health.

In their place remain people who are not committed to the same conversation. Perhaps they are younger, or less familiar with the building blocks of theory that really should be required reading, or are still stuck in their "everything sucks and it's YOUR fault" phase. Maybe they do come from different places, like 4chan or reddit, which are less prone to this sort of discussion. A lot of the original crowd had been on tumblr long enough to remember when we could still edit posts, and I keep seeing people who would have been in elementary school at that time posting to the tag nowadays.

I was discussing this problem on discord with a small group of friends and one of them- a trans fem- called it second wave transandrophobia discourse as a bitter joke. I think she is more right than wrong, regardless.

I'm not sure who you believe I've blocked- in general I don't air out who I block on this blog because at nearly 12k followers there are too many people who would love to dogpile someone for the sin of disagreeing with me and I do my best to prevent that. I don't want anyone to be harassed, after all. There's a lot of assumptions that have been made about my block and follow behavior that vary from "hilarious but untrue" to "outright offensive slander".

People are people, and some people are shitheads. Trans mascs and people who want to support trans mascs are not exempt from that. I say this all the time- Kayne West is objectively a shitty person but his existence doesn't prove the concept of antiblackness to be a myth. Caitlyn Jenner is objectively a shitty person but her existence doesn't prove the concept of transmisogyny to be a myth. So why do shitty trans mascs prove our own theory to be dangerous or nonexistent? Why hold us to a higher standard than any other marginalized group?

I could ask you the same question- there are posts on here with hundreds, sometimes thousands, of notes made by trans fems and cis women who blame their problems with transmisogyny on trans mascs. There are people coming from reddit, Twitter, 4chan who are being actively transphobic and misogynistic and claiming they're doing it for the good of transfeminism. There are posts filled with misogyny and bioessentialism and gender essentialism and even interphobia and racism and transphobia being left completely unchecked. Do you think it would be acceptable for me to ask if that means transmisogyny theory should be abandoned or if we should just accept that it will draw people with bad intentions?

Or do you think the better answer is to focus instead on finding those with a good head on their shoulders, and making sure it's them who has their voice heard? Do you think we should maybe not judge entire demographics because there exists some shitty people who claim the same identity?

[salem-witch-slut]

I Don't Need You (Don't You Leave Me)(18+)

Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS: You and Ellie were always at each other's throats. Everything between you two felt like a competition. But when you are severely injured on patrol one day because of Ellie's carelessness, things between you change.

WARNINGS: Canon typical violence, descriptions of blood/bones breaking, awkward!Ellie, reader described as taller and stronger than Ellie, switch!Ellie (more sub though), dom!reader, fingering, face-sitting (Ellie receiving), spanking, Ellie calls reader "princess"

WORD COUNT: 9.3K

A/N: I always loved this one... I thought it was really cute and Ellie feels very in character for this one.

You hated morning patrols… Well, not so much morning, but the horrendous feeling of being awake before the sun is up. When you agreed to run through Hoback Pass, you were under the stipulation that you’d be riding with Jesse… You know, someone you got along with? Someone who wasn’t so cocky that they may as well have a membership card to the medical tent.

Someone so frustrating that it made your skin crawl just thinking about her… But Jesse had traded shifts with her, and now you had no choice but to put up with the reason you knew how to say fuck you in 3 different languages.

Your hands were tight on the reins of your stallion as you were almost falling asleep in the saddle. It was too warm that morning, and you wanted to go crawl back in bed and forget that this day was even taking place. And yet, fate had other things to say about it, that tricky bitch.

“Would you move your ass already?”

Her voice rang in your ears, forcing you to look up. The way the sun reflected down onto her auburn hair and how it accentuated her muscly biceps in the glow of orange. You may have blushed had you not felt so tired and instead of admiring her hot arms, you were scowling and rolling your eyes so hard that you’re amazed they didn’t get stuck in the back of your head.

“Trust me, Ellie,” You spoke, kicking your horse into a soft trot before yanking on the reins and stopping right next to her and her mare. “I’ll be the happiest I’ve ever been once this shit is all over.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You clicked your tongue against the back of your teeth and groaned. “It means you are driving me fucking crazy.”

“Yeah?” Ellie yanked Shimmer in front of you and your stallion who halted and gave a challenging huff, much like you did. “Then keep up. Sooner we check in, the sooner we’re done.”

Shimmer trotted in front with her rider in tow and you huffed. “Bitch.”

It was always like this with you two. Sometimes when patrol groups were in threes, you and Ellie almost always got put on those, with Joel or Tommy playing mediator so you two wouldn’t just get into an all-out fist fight in the middle of the trail. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes you left with a bruise on your face and her with a split lip.

What was it about Ellie Williams that just… got under your skin? What was it that made you so infuriated whenever she spoke to you? Was it because she had always been rude to you? Maybe it was her inability to accept her mortality with how fucking reckless she always was. Was it her I’m better than you attitude?

Maybe it was something else entirely… Maybe you two were at each other’s throats because the sexual tension between you two was so annoying that Dina and Jesse had a bet going on who was going to kiss who first.

Everybody saw it. Everybody but you two. Ellie thought you were beautiful, assertive, and highly skilled in hand-to-hand combat. But she also said you were a hard-ass, bossy, and over-analyzed every little detail to the point that she would need a fucking magnifying glass to see all the fine print in your plans.

And Ellie? Ellie was a hardcore badass who thought with her fists before using her head, which was strange due to how absolutely brilliant she was. You heard her talks with her friends; she knew so much about science and space and literature… Why was she always so dumb when it came to her safety?

You were thinking very rude and nasty things as you two continued your trek down the trail, stopping every once in a while, to look for supplies inside of old buildings and watching Ellie do some fucking acrobatic shit just to get another one of her useless superhero cards on the third floor of a destroyed building. You were on the ground, checking your rifle for probably the thousandth time that day when the sounds of obvious distress made you look up.

“Shit, MOVE! ” Ellie shouted and watched as you had to roll out of the way to not get hit in the head with a rusted ladder that clattered to the ground aggressively. Your heart pounded in your ears as you looked up at Ellie who was now trapped on the third floor of the used-to-be, building with no way down.

The emotions that went across your face were like whiplash. At first, you looked angry at her complete carelessness, and then you realized she was genuinely stuck up there and you couldn’t stop laughing. In seconds, you were doubling over, your snorts of amusement echoing in the wind as Ellie pouted. She certainly looked cute with her bottom lip sticking out like that.

“How’s the weather up there?” You paced back and forth in front of the building as Ellie huffed, laying down on her stomach and leaning over the edge a little to see just how far down it was. The only thing keeping her up was that floor and a load bearing brick pillar.

“Stop being a dick and help me! ”

You grinned. “Hmm… and why should I do that?”

“You know I’ve got a clean shot, right?” Ellie removed her pistol from the back of her jeans and held it up like it was a threat. “Bet I could hide your body pretty fucking easily.”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes before picking the ladder back up, only for it to fall apart in your hands, the rusted pieces scraping against each other and falling into a heap on the ground. The amusement began to leave your face and you realized that this actually was a bad situation that she was in.

“Great, figures,” Ellie rolled onto her back and stared up at the sky. “Everything you touch turns to shit.”

“Oh, the optimism is fuckin’ killing me, El,” You shot back with an equal amount of sass. You didn’t see her blushing from where she was, which she was grateful for in the moment. “Just calm down. I’ll figure something out.”

All you got from her was a thumbs up over the side of the ledge and you sighed with irritation. Why did she have to be so… so fucking infuriating? She was 18 and still acted like a damn child sometimes. You were in your bitter thoughts as you looked around for anything that could be helpful. Another ladder? A rope? Anything that can save her sorry ass from getting stuck up there and starving to death.

“God, it’s fuckin’ hot,” The sun was up now, which meant that Wyoming was being cooked from the rays, and that meant with no shade, you were being blasted from every single angle. You stripped off your lightweight jacket and tied it around your waist. Sweat dripped from your forehead and stained your t-shirt as you dug around under the remains of some of the buildings.

You were focused on saving your partner, but in doing so, you had taken your eyes off her. And while she wasn’t exactly far away, you missed the way she was staring at you in that moment. In Ellie’s mind, all she wanted to do was trace your collarbone with her tongue and feel your hands against her ass… She truly was too gay for her own good.

Ellie scooted closer to the ledge when she saw you disappear behind a broken-down truck, and then she heard a cracking sound. The platform trembled and Ellie began backing away from the ledge as fast as she possibly could with her face going pale and her heart rate shooting sky high.

“Ellie?!” You called out, immediately abandoning what you were looking for and running over to the building. The cement between the bricks on the pillar was beginning to crack, and once that was gone, the building would be coming down in literal seconds. Your partner began panicking, looking down at you as you began to pace like a wild animal ready to attack their prey.

“Do something!” Ellie screamed as the platform shook so hard that she was knocked flat on her ass.

You laughed in the most cynical fashion. “Wh-What the hell do you want me to do?! I can’t stop it from falling down!”

“If I die because of this, I will haunt your ass forever !”

Time was running out and the building was coming down any second. You were out of options and only had one choice. “Jump!”

Ellie looked at you with her eyes wide and her fists clenched. “Are you fucking crazy—”

“ Shut the fuck up, and JUMP!”

The bricks in the middle of the pillar began snapping into pieces and Ellie realized she had no other way out of this situation. She looked down at you as you held your arms out for her. With a final, FUCK IT! Ellie jumped off the platform and into your arms.

You pushed both feet into the ground and bent your knees slightly. Ellie didn’t weigh much, and you were certain you could carry her, so why not this? And that’s exactly what happened. At first, Ellie thought you might let her hit the ground, but you had rushed forward just to make sure she didn’t hit the ground! And yes, she was light, but the momentum of her falling and you not moving had your entire body smacking against the back of the broken-down car.

The window to the passenger side door shattered with the impact of your body and you saw stars for a second with how much it hurt to hit something so hard. But you quickly remembered that you both needed to move. Without so much as a second thought, you ran out of the way of the collapsing building with Ellie still in your arms.

Of course, the fucking building had to fall at an angle. And in the direction that you were running. Your blood was rushing to your ears with adrenaline as you managed to slip on the fucking mud and ended up dropping Ellie into the dirt a few feet away from you.

“Shit, look out!” Ellie grabbed your hand and attempted to pull you away, but she wasn’t fast enough. The building came crashing down. The bulk of it missed you, but one of the wooden planks that was holding the floor together snapped off the remains and went flying in your direction. The plank came in direct contact with your leg and the sickening snapping sound definitely wasn’t from the wood.

You shrieked in agony, immediately crawling away from the rubble as it finally ceased its collapse and you fell to the dirt, whimpering in pain and tears streaking down your face. There was no doubt in your mind that your leg was broken, and you just knew that you were gonna catch so much shit for this. Your whole body felt like it was on fire and all you could think of was how much Ellie was going to hound your ass for not moving fast enough to get out of the way.

You looked up and coughed on the dust that the rubble kicked into the air, stomach twisting at the agony as you crawled away and slammed your fist into the dirt. “Fuck! God fucking damn it…”

“Hey, hey, look at me,” Ellie crouched down and placed both hands on your shoulders, getting your attention. You looked up with tears in your eyes and she brushed the hair out of your face and looked like she wanted to throw up. “Stay here… Stay right here, I’ll get the horses.”

You gave a weak laugh and dropped down into the dirt, giving her a thumbs up. “W... Where would I even go?”

A few seconds went by before Ellie returned with both horses behind her. She stopped right next to you and began to freak out, her hands going all over your back and behind your pack straps where she let out a hiss of pain. You had shards of broken glass embedded in your skin and your shirt was now soaked with blood. “Here, gimme your hand.”

Wordlessly, you slapped your palm into her grasp and braced yourself for her to yank you on your feet, which she did. You tried to keep your foot off the ground, but it was almost impossible.

“Can you get on?” Ellie questioned and you just nodded, grabbing at your horse’s saddle and jumping off the ground on your good leg, swinging the other one over the side of his back and forcing yourself to slide the foot on your broken leg into the stirrup.

Ellie jumped on Shimmer way faster than you could, and you both immediately began to ride back to Jackson, not even bothering with the checkpoint. Someone else would have to come out here to clean up your mess, and it would most likely be Maria and Shawn… As if she didn’t have enough to do already.

When the gates to the town opened up, Ellie was already helping you out of the saddle on your horse, putting one hand on your hip and the other holding your wrist as she slung your arm over her shoulder. The amount of concerned looks you two received made you feel sick. You’d have to tell everybody now that you broke your damn leg because you couldn’t move fast enough.

“Could you all stop fucking looking at us and help?!” Ellie shouted, her anger level rising as everybody was whispering but no one was doing a damn thing to help.

“What happened?!” You looked up and made a face of distress at seeing Joel and Tommy looking down at both of you, your face turning red with embarrassment. You felt so stupid.

Ellie readjusted her hold on your hip. “A building fell down; I think her leg’s broken—”

“Oh no,” You laughed, but there was no humor in your voice. “It’s definitely fucking broken…”

“Alright, c’mon then,” Without even warning you, Joel was bending down and lifting you up off the ground and into his arms, so you didn’t step on your bad leg. It was then that Tommy noticed the glass buried in your back and he immediately started swearing. “Ellie, tell Maria what happened. Gonna get her to the tent.”

As soon as you were out of earshot, Ellie let the biggest gasp escape from her mouth in her entire life. Her hand went to her chest, and she doubled over, almost like she was trying not to throw up after all of that. “I’m sorry… God damn it, I’m so sorry…”

The next few days were pretty much absolute torture for you. After the doctor had realigned your broken bone and placed you in a splint, you had been bedridden for the days to come. The timeframe given was not great… 4 whole months of nothing? 4 whole months of being trapped inside of your home with absolutely nothing for you to do? How in the actual fuck were you going to survive?

With stitches on your back and your leg wrapped around metal rods to keep it straight as it healed, you were pretty much incapacitated for the near future. Even getting yourself out of bed was a nightmare. And taking a shower may as well have been curing fucking cancer. It felt impossible every single time and you had no choice but to tape a plastic bag around the metal rods, so they didn’t rust against your skin.

It was early morning and you had just gotten yourself out of bed, sitting on your reclining chair in your small living room and watching one of your many movies you had retrieved during your patrol missions. Your leg was propped up on the bench in front of you, and you were content to stay like this all day long, unless you had to pee or something.

Of course, you were content… And then someone knocked on your damn door. A sigh left your throat as you paused the movie and pushed yourself off the chair and onto your feet. Maria had given you a set of crutches and that was the only way you would ever possibly get around for the near future. This was quite actually the fucking worst thing ever.

“Hold on,” You said as the person knocked once again. You opened the door, not even bothering to look through the window, and stumbled back a bit on your foot, your cheeks turning a soft pink.

God, Ellie sure looked like a kicked puppy when she stood like that. “Hey…”

“Uhm…” You cleared your throat for a second and stepped back. “Hi. Is there some—”

You paused and looked down, seeing that there were flowers in her hand and a solemn look on her face. Suddenly, you felt like she hadn’t come by to tear you apart for getting yourself hurt. Well, she was here for something, wasn’t she?

“How are you doing?” Ellie held the violet-colored flowers in both hands and looked over your shoulder before looking back down at her hands, almost like she couldn’t look you in the eyes.

You frowned. “I’m fine, Ellie… I just have a break, it’s not the end of the world.”

She nodded, still looking at the ground. “Right… Can I— Can I come in? I have something I need to say.”

What’s stopping you from slamming the door in her face? What’s stopping you from saying no and telling her to fuck off? Well, nothing was stopping you… but you kind of didn’t want to. If anything, you wanted to hear what she had to say… Plus, that fucking puppy-dog look was just melting your heart.

You pushed the door open with the crutch and limped away from the door, allowing Ellie to come inside of your home. She closed the door behind herself, and you hobbled your way into the kitchen where you began pouring a glass of water for her. It was just in your nature to be hospitable, apparently.

“What’s this about, El?” You sat on one of the barstools and slowly looked down at your wrapped leg, trying not to think about how your bone was all sorts of fucked under the bandages. Ellie offered the flowers to you, and for a brief moment, you forgot about your broken leg.

Ellie took notice of how you winced when you sat down, and the stitches on your exposed back. Her heart ached at the sight of them. “Listen… I didn’t mean to… W-What I’m trying to say is… I need to tell you—”

You snorted and she finally looked up to meet your eyes. You noticed her cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink. “I’m sorry, okay? It’s my fault you broke your leg… shit, I never meant for this to happen. I wasn’t trying to like, kill you or anything, that was a joke—”

“Ellie,” You reached out and gently grabbed her hand. You saw her whole body tense up as she looked down at you, and you responded with a smile at her confusion. “It’s okay… I’m just happy you’re okay, you know?”

The redhead looked down at her shoes… Those dirty, beat-up converse that you loved to tease her about and how she needed to fucking wear something else every once in a while, or she would be walking with holes in her soles at some point. “Yeah, well… you kind of saved my ass.”

Your own cheeks turned a soft pink as you looked down at the flowers in her hands and slowly reached for them. She offered the velvety flora for you, and you inhaled the scent of them. It reminded you of the smell of rain on a dirt road in the morning… They were definitely beautiful, and you felt something in your chest when you looked up at Ellie who was giving you a slight smile.

“Wasn’t gonna just stand there and do nothing, El,” You placed the flowers down on the counter as carefully as you could and offered her the glass of water. “I didn’t want you getting hurt… And yes, you were the dumbass that went up there in the first place, but I shouldn’t have been laughing about you getting stuck up there.”

“No, no, you were in your right to laugh,” Ellie cleared up. “It was a stupid-ass thing to do.”

“Mmmm, yeah it was,” You chuckled, watching as Ellie took the glass from your hand and looked down inside of it. “It’s not poisoned, dipshit.”

“Just making sure,” She shrugged her shoulders and sipped on the water, making you smile once again… Fuck, this was nice. It was so nice to talk to Ellie and not want to kill her for a few minutes. It was so comforting that she didn’t blame you, and that she was coming to apologize… Like she felt guilty about treating you like dirt for the past 4 years or so…

There was this warm fuzzy feeling in your chest as Ellie sat across from you at the bar and you couldn’t shake the feeling no matter how hard you tried.

It only took 3 months instead of the predicted 4. You did everything the doctor told you to do, and you were cleared for patrols in the morning. You were ecstatic at first, but then you saw the route… You were running with Tommy, and Joel was going with Ellie… But you wanted to go with Ellie; you told Maria you wanted to go with Ellie! Why didn’t she listen?

“Hey Joel,” You pulled the Texan to the side in the paddock and suddenly felt like you were asking his daughter to the fucking prom. “Uh… Is it okay if we switch routes? I-I wanted to go with Ellie.”

“Yeah, uh… about that,” Joel rubbed the back of his neck and looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but there. What happened? “Ellie doesn’t wanna go with you.”

It was like you had just got hit in the face. Your emotions went all over the place but mostly, you felt betrayal. What happened between you and Ellie recently that made her not want to go on patrol with you? Was it from the shots you two took turns doing last week? Was it when you were staring at her in the pastures yesterday? Maybe it was from the way you held her hand during that scary movie you two watched… What could have been the reason?!

Your hands clenched into fists, and you walked over to the stallion with your name on it, grabbing at his reins and yanking him away. “Thanks anyway, Joel.”

You saddled up next to Tommy, taking the rifle he gave you and checking to see if the chamber was loaded. You glanced down the line of patrollers and saw Ellie sitting next to Joel on her mare, checking her own rifle. When she looked down the line and made eye contact with you, she immediately looked away. What the fuck was her problem?

After being stuck in a house for 3 months straight, you had come to find something out about yourself. You had a very short fuse, and almost no fucking patience. Sitting in this kitchen alone, looking down at the countertop and remembering those flowers Ellie brought you when she first came to see you…

In the last 3 months, you two had gotten close. And it wasn’t the guilt that made her come around. No, she genuinely enjoyed your presence and you felt like her being with you was a breath of fresh air. You saw her a lot, and she would come outside with you when you wanted to walk around and stretch out your good leg.

And suddenly, she was cold to you… Like she couldn’t even stand to fucking look at you again. Your heart sunk down into your stomach and you looked out of your kitchen window. It was already dark outside, and you were desperate for answers on why she treated you like such shit… Why couldn’t Ellie even look at you?

In your state of anger, you grabbed your jacket from the coat rack, slid on your shoes, and you were out the door in seconds. It took a full 8 minutes to walk to Ellie’s little shed home behind Joel’s house. You pushed the back gate open and walked up to her front door, banging on the wooden surface with your whole fist.

“Gimme a damn minute!” Ellie shouted from the other side of the door. Your rage just seemed to rise as you curled your hands into fists and as soon as the door opened, you were putting a hand on her chest and shoving her inside of the house. “Jeez— the fuck is going on?!”

You spun around, slammed the door, and stared her down like she just hit you in the face… which you had half a mind to do to her once again. “What the fuck happened this morning?”

Almost immediately, Ellie flinched at your words and looked down. At least she had the damn decency to look ashamed of herself. Of course, when she said nothing, it didn’t help your anger. You just got even more heated, and you stepped forward. You were a few inches taller than her so you had superiority here… at least in height.

“We have been… we were fine! I thought we were good, Ellie. Why? Why are you back to treating me like this— Are you ashamed to admit to your fuckin’ friends that I’m now your friend too?”

Ellie recoiled as if you had just slapped her. “What? No! No, why would I—”

“Then why is it,” You started, stepping forward and towering over her. Ellie inhaled sharply and stepped back, almost tripping on the stuff all over her floor. “As soon as I’m cleared for patrol, and you’re around your friends again, you start treating me like shit again?”

“I didn’t mean for you to—” Ellie gasped and stumbled until the back of her legs hit the bed and she caught herself before she fell on her ass. “Did Joel not tell you?”

“Oh, he made it pretty fuckin’ clear, Williams,” You snapped, and your face was inches away from hers. It was like all those times before that you two had gotten into fist fights. Only this time… Ellie was actually backing down. She acted like she didn’t want this to happen; she didn’t want to fight you at all. “You better explain yourself. Or I swear, I will walk out of that door, and I will never, ever speak to you again.”

The silence was deafening. For the first time in a long time, Ellie was speechless. Her heart was racing, and she was panting as if she just ran a marathon. You scoffed, your lips twisting into a vicious snarl and your brows pulling down with aggression. “Fine. Fuck you then, Ellie.”

Your hand wrapped around the front handle of the door, and you were about to turn it when you felt a hand close around your wrist. You were mere seconds from punching her in the face, but you sure as shit couldn’t do that after what Ellie just did.

The redhead grabbed your wrist with one hand, shoved you by the chest with the other, and slammed her lips against your own. A loud inhale pulled from you at her sudden assertiveness, slamming your body into the door and digging her nails into the skin of your wrist. Well, this certainly was not what you were expecting, like at all…

Ellie acted desperate as she practically devoured you, her lips moving against your own with a feverish desire that you simply couldn’t wrap your head around in that moment. You were still in shock more than anything, but at least you weren’t mad anymore, right? No, just confused now.

A few seconds passed as Ellie reached up and curled both hands into the front of your shirt, and you put your own hands on her jaw, pulling her away from your lips with a wet SMACK! She felt like heaven on your lips, but you needed answers.

Of course, pushing Ellie off was a lot harder than you originally thought. As soon as you separated her, she would dive back in to steal another kiss and you felt your heart pounding in your chest all over again. Breathing her in with every fiber of your being, you mutter against her mouth, trying to get a word in edgewise but matching her kisses with equal ferocity.

“El…Ellie, W-what is—” You paused and gave her one very long kiss and broke it just to finish your sentence. “What’re you doing?”

“M’sick of it,” She whined, sliding one of her hands into your hair and the other slid down the front of your chest before gripping you by the side and pulling you flush against her torso. A gasp left your throat and Ellie took that opportunity to slide her tongue into your mouth. “So, fucking tired… tired of pretending like I don’t want you.”

The color that rose to your cheeks could be seen from space. You inhaled hard through your nose and wrapped both arms around her, like you might drift away from her if every single inch of your body wasn’t pressed against her own.

“God, El,” You cooed sweetly, enough to pull a whine from her throat as she dug her nails into your shoulders. “Didn’t know you were so hot for me—”

“Don’t fucking make me regret this,” She scowled, looking up at you with that familiar challenging look on her face that you found yourself adoring very quickly when it was under different circumstances. Well, if she wanted a challenge, when did you ever back down from the chance of putting Ms. Williams in her place?

The most mischievous smirk crossed your face, and she had no idea what was in store for her. You reached down and grabbed at her wrists with one hand, lifting them up and spinning so this time, it was her back pressing into the door. You pushed both hands over her head and held them there, keeping her hostage and looking down with the biggest grin possible.

Ellie was completely speechless, and her entire face went red with embarrassment. “W-What the fuck was that?”

You slowly slid your free hand up the length of her side, tugging up her shirt as you moved, nails gently raking across her pretty freckled skin. The way her body shuddered against yours was a sure way to make you groan as you leaned down and pressed your mouth against her neck. You inhaled her beautiful scent and pressed your lips down on her hot skin.

“God, you smell so good, El,” You purred as you kissed from the start of her shoulder up to the base of her jaw. Ellie’s hands flexed inside your own like she wanted to fight back. For a small moment, she managed to pull her hands forward, but you quickly slammed them back. It seemed like you had a lot of pent-up strength and energy to burn off from being bedridden for months.

“W-Wait, wait, wait,” Ellie begged, squirming against the door and making you look up for a second. Her desperate tone was what pulled you away and you slowly released her wrists, taking your hands back away from her body. Her body was trembling, and she looked like a frightened bunny in your presence. You suddenly felt like you went too far.

“Are you okay?” You slowly reached out and felt a slight wave of relief when she didn’t shy away from your touch. Both hands went to her face, and you stroked your thumbs across her jaw.

“Y-Yeah, I’m just…” Ellie breathed, putting a hand over her chest and inhaling through her nose like she couldn’t catch her breath. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, Ellie, it’s okay,” You forced her to look back up in your eyes. Her pupils were dilated, and she looked terrified. “Hey, hey… look at me.”

Every time her eyes would try to look away, you would coax her into looking back up in your eyes, pressing a soft kiss against her nose and trying to calm her down as best you could. All you wanted was for Ellie to calm down… But like everything else that happened between you two, that was proving to be even more of a task than you thought it would.

You only relaxed when her breathing went back to normal. Very slowly, Ellie returned her gaze at you and gave you a haphazard smile. A breath of relief filled the air, and you pressed your forehead against hers. “There you are… if you want to stop, it’s okay—”

“Wait, no, no, no, wait!” Ellie grabbed your shirt and yanked you forward before you could back away. You stumbled on your feet and had to slam your arm into the door above her head, so you didn’t end up slamming directly against her. The noise that she made was enough to send you into fucking cardiac arrest. Her eyes were now focused on your strong arms, and she trailed her gaze up to the length of your neck and to your eyes. “…Fuck.”

Your heart sped up all over again and you looked like you wanted to eat her alive.

“Ellie,” You huffed out her name, and she responded by saying your name almost in a taunting manner. “Listen, we can… we can talk about this, and we can… You know, we don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for, it’s—”

You squeaked embarrassingly loud as she yanked you back down and slammed your lips against her own once again. She reacted to your kiss like it was a breath of air after being underwater. Like it was all she could need to stay calm and collected.

The way she squirmed against you was almost like she wanted more, but you were worried that she just wanted to stop but couldn’t voice it. “It’s okay, baby… I won’t hurt you; I promise—”

“Fuck,” Ellie bit down on your bottom lip and inhaled your entire being with desperate intent. “Fuck, fuck, fuck… I can’t take it anymore.”

You were planning to question what she meant when you felt her grab at your wrist and placed one of your hands around her neck. Almost instantly, you gently grabbed her throat and pushed her back against the door, using your other hand to block her head from smacking into the wood. She groaned as your grip tightened on her neck and it was like she didn’t have a dominant bone in her body.

The way Ellie just fully gave you the reins and relinquished control of herself… it was doing ridiculous things to you. Very slowly, you pulled your hand away from her throat and reached down, grabbing the underside of her thighs and yanking her away from the door.

Despite how obvious it was what you were planning, she still swore with surprise when you picked her up off the ground and wrapped both of her incredibly strong legs around her waist. It was no secret that you were stronger than her, but she was faster than you… It was one of the reasons you two were always at odds. Back when you were younger, Ellie would challenge you all the time. She always won in her mock race, and you always managed to beat her at arm wrestling… It may have been where your feud started.

And now, things were different; so different. Ellie used to hate that you could pick things up so easily and she was beyond jealous that girls fawned over you when they saw you working in the stable and not going on patrol. She thought she was jealous of you… But now she’s seeing that wasn’t the case. No, Ellie wanted you to pick her up and toss her around like she was a fucking bale of hay.

And that’s exactly what you did. You kept both hands on her thighs and took a few steps back before turning on your heel and dropping her down onto the bed underneath you. The sound she made was beyond gorgeous and you felt like you were gonna lose it.

“God, what the fuck are you doing to me?” Ellie whined, arching off the bed as you trailed your lips back down her neck. With one finger, you pulled down the collar of her shirt and without warning, latched your teeth down against her neck. She immediately grabbed your hair with both hands and yanked, hard, making you hiss in pain and pull back away from her skin. “Y-You’re pissin’ me off, you know that?”

All you could do was laugh and immediately pull yourself back. She struggled against you and tried to keep you on top of her, but you simply grabbed her wrists and held them over her head once again, towering over her and gently taking hold of her chin with your free hand. “I can go, y’know… Don’t even have to be here, baby. You’d have to fuck yourself—”

“That’s… Shit, that’s not…” Ellie fumbling on her words was the cutest thing you had ever seen. You smirked, like you always did whenever you won one of her stupid contests and dragged your fingertips across her neck and down over her chest. She looked so angry with you, and yet, she couldn’t stop from giving you the most adorable moan you’ve heard in your life.

Your hand stopped at the hem of her shirt, and you paused. “Can I take this off?”

“I’m gonna be pretty fucking upset if you don’t,” She snapped back, making you shudder with excitement. It was like you couldn’t take her clothes off fast enough. Her shirt was the first to go, and then her jeans followed, along with her sneakers. She yanked on your own shirt desperately, almost tearing the fabric with how aggressive she pulled, and you decided to take pity on her, stripping yourself out of your own clothes and grabbing her hips in order to pull her up higher on the bed so you could fully encompass her body.

You couldn’t help but stare at her, your strong hands grabbing at her leg and lifting her knee up so you could press down between her thighs. Feeling her bare skin against your own was like electricity in your bones and you had to remind yourself to breathe as you kissed all over the expanse of her chest just above her sports bra.

“St-stop fucking teasing me,” Ellie said, almost losing it.

“Ellie,” You broke off from her chest and grabbed at her sports bra before slowly pushing the fabric up around her chest and staring at the soft swell of her breasts. You had to press your thighs together and you were practically drooling over her. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

Her face went even redder at your words, and you immediately bent down, your tongue sliding all over her skin and tracing between her breasts. She threaded her fingers in your hair as you grabbed the soft flesh and squeezed, nails digging into her skin and gently rubbing her nipples with the pads of your thumbs. The way she whined was adorably pathetic and you just wanted to hear even more.

You trailed your lips down her flat abdomen and gently pinched at her nipples, marveling at how her stomach sucked in when she gasped. It was like it was too much for her, and you couldn’t stop yourself from teasing her even more. “Baby… You gonna cum just from me playing with your tits?”

Ellie gasped and slammed her fists into the mattress, sitting up off the bed and looking down at you like she wanted to set you on fire. “I can… almost promise you,” Her voice was breathy and deep, and it made you even wetter. “If you don’t fuck me in the next five minutes, I will hurt you.”

“Promise?” You grinned and slipped your thumb into the elastic of her panties and slowly pulled them down her thighs, tossing the fabric away from you and onto the floor. You had wasted enough time already. And now all you wanted to do was give Ellie exactly what she wanted.

“J-Just… Just fucking fuck me— ohgod! ” Ellie choked on her breath the second she felt your fingers against her slick folds. Her legs opened up for you and she shuddered with each stroke of your fingers along her cunt and creating a map of her with your mind. You didn’t touch any place in particular, and you didn’t let your touch linger; you kept her on edge the entire time.

Every time you pressed your fingertips against her opening, she would bite her lip and grab the sheets with her hands, and then when you pulled away, she would start pouting. You did the exact same thing with her clit, pressing the pads of your index and middle finger on her sensitive bundle of nerves and gave a few little rubs before moving away. It was the most aggressive form of torture she had ever felt in her entire life.

“Stop! Fuck, fuck, stop it!” Ellie yanked your hair until your lips were away from her hip bone and looked down at the many love bites and hickies you left in your wake. She was practically fuming with desperation as she got on her knees and used your hair as leverage to push you down onto the bed as she climbed on top of you. “Fucking pain in the ass.” 

“Oh? What’s wrong, sweetheart?” You teased, biting your lip as she pushed your head into the pillows, slowly crawling up and making it so you couldn’t keep teasing her. You shut up pretty fast when she swung her leg over and her pussy was inches away from your face. She was absolutely soaking wet, and it was clear that this was a final ditch effort to force you to fuck her. 

“Maybe this way,” Ellie grabbed at the headboard behind you and spread her legs even more until she was centimeters from your mouth. “You’ll finally shut that pretty mouth of yours.” 

Ellie didn’t expect the dominance from you as you grabbed her ass with both hands and yanked her down onto your face. With a sharp intake of breath, Ellie whined and began to grind herself against your mouth as you began to lick at her slick cunt. You knew she was strong and in all honesty, could most likely sit on your face for hours without her legs getting tired. And it was why you were confident enough to hardly even hold her in place. 

“Fuck,” Ellie pushed her face into the wall and held still as you sucked on her slick folds and slid your tongue up until it was pressing on her clit. She squirmed a little at the pleasure and you immediately grabbed her hips with your strong hands, holding her still and licking at her clit fast enough for her to see stars. “ Fuck ! Oh fuck…” 

It was adorable; you were on the bottom but you were still in control of her. There was no autonomy left with her as she moaned and did her best to hide the way her body was reacting to your thick tongue. You were certain that you would leave bruises on her skin as you held her in place and practically destroyed her on your mouth. 

And while it was so nice that she was giving you enough room to breathe, a part of you wasn’t having as much as you wanted. You slid your hands up from her hips and grabbed her waist, yanking on her and growling with dominance. Ellie responded with a groan at the vibrations from your noise and looked down to meet your heavy-lidded eyes. 

“Shit, I… I don’t want to crush you–” 

You moaned against her folds and lifted her up for a second just so you could speak, and she was already upset that you stopped. “If you’re gonna sit on my face… you better fucking sit down. Don’t just hover; sit!” 

For a moment, Ellie was reminded of when you yelled at her to jump. She was right about that… So why not this? 

You let out a breathy snarl and decided to make the choice for her when you pulled her back down and immediately went back to eating her out. Your tongue lapped at her clit and you kneaded her strong ass with both hands as she leaned back and pushed her hand into your thigh in order to stay sitting upright. Ellie couldn’t keep quiet even if she tried, grinding down against your mouth and rubbing her juices all over your face. 

“Yeah, just like that…” Ellie moaned, her head falling back as she held you by the hair and slowly moved her other hand between your legs. It was like you knew because you immediately started spreading your legs and dug your heels into the mattress while she put her entire palm against your clothed pussy. The noise you made just seemed to make her even wetter. “N-Not gonna… let you have all the fun, Jesus christ your mouth feels so good…” 

You simply hummed with approval and arched up into her hand as you wrapped your lips around her clit and sucked. She let out a tiny squeal at the sensation and immediately reached inside of your panties, pressing her fingers in between your own slick folds and rubbing at your clit without holding anything back. 

You couldn’t say anything; all you could do was moan into Ellie’s cunt as she played with your pussy, your eyes squeezing shut and your mouth collecting all of her wetness as best as you could. The mess you were making was beyond vulgar. Her juices dripped from her cunt and all over your face, creating a huge wet spot on her sheets behind your head. Your drool slicked her up even more and your tongue spread it around, the sounds reverberating off the walls and making her blush with just how loud you were when you feasted on her pussy. 

“God, fuck yes,” Ellie cried. “Ugh, you know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you princess?” 

The nickname had your eyes rolling and you responded with a soft smack to her ass. Ellie gasped and responded by sliding her hand down and pushing two fingers directly into your tight cunt, making you scream into her pussy. Even when you were eating her out, she had to make everything a fucking competition. 

With one final slurping sound, you lifted Ellie off your face and looked up, gently grinding up into her fingers as she slowly pumped them in and out of your wet cavern, soaking your panties and smirking, feeling like she finally got the upper hand. You chuckled and slid your hand from her ass and began to prod her opening with your own fingers. 

“Easy baby,” You cooed sweetly between your own whines of pleasure as she gently curled her fingers upward and stroked along your soft inner walls. Her hips were moving on their own, bucking against your hand as you leaned forward, kissing her hip and slowly pushing both fingers inside her slick cunt. “Fuck, slipped right in… Naughty girl–”

“Shut up,” Ellie scowled. “T-trying too hard to… ohhhhfuck…” 

With a simple twist of your wrist and your fingers bending inside of her, she finally stopped complaining. Her words died on her tongue as she kept still but pounded at your pussy with her long, strong fingers. “Look at yourself, baby… Oh, you love getting fucked, don’t you?” 

Ellie was too far gone to fight back and her hand began faltering on your cunt just trying to hold it together. You were the lucky one to get a front row seat of seeing her pussy spread apart on your digits and you began to push them in and out of her, listening to the slick sounds of her liquids squelching on your hand and how she was practically bouncing on your hand. 

“Yeah? Oh, you finally decided to shut the fuck up?” You taunted, and all Ellie could do was cry out. You pumped inside of her a bit faster. “Hmmm, that’s it baby… That’s it, good girl… Fucking love how your pretty pussy stretches on my fingers.” 

Ellie slowly released you and in that moment, you took the upper hand once again. In mere seconds, you were shoving Ellie down into the bed, slotting between her legs, and immediately pushing your fingers back inside of her without letting up. You pushed your knees into the mattress next to her, an arm going over her head as you were hovering away from her face. Your lips were so close to her own and she kept trying to meet them for a kiss but all you did was drag the tip of your tongue over her mouth and teased her while fucking her into the mattress.

“Alright, let’s see…” You breathed down and Ellie fisted her hands into the sheets, her moans spurring you forward as you twisted your fingers around inside of her cunt, stroking along her inner walls to see if you could make her go from soft moans to full on screams which you would need to silence anyway with how fucking thin the walls were in her shed. 

“Wha– What are you– AH! Fuck! ” 

“There it is,” You leaned down and pressed your lips on Ellie’s before you began a brutal pace, pumping your thick fingers into her pussy and hitting her sweet spot with every movement you made. Her screams were muffled by your mouth and you pressed your tongue down against hers, tracing the grooves in her teeth and hissing at her bite down on your bottom lip. “Hmm? That feel good baby?” 

Normally Ellie would snap, or she would have some clever retort or insult for you, but not this time. Ellie just groaned and nodded, eyes rolling back in her head and her inner walls clenching down on your fingers. It didn’t matter though, because you didn’t slow your speed. And when you twisted your wrist, Ellie arched off the bed and into your hand. 

From how bad she was squirming and wiggling around underneath you, and how her moans were growing in pitch, you could tell she was right on the edge, and you wanted nothing more than to push her over. 

“Come on baby,” You got closer and dragged your tongue across her neck and down to her shoulder where you gave a soft little bite into her skin. She squeaked, and it quickly blended into a wanton moan as you slammed your fingers up into her poor stretched out cavern. “Come on, cum for me. I know you want to.” 

“Fffffuck…” Ellie purred, biting down on her bottom lip and trying not to scream bloody murder as you slammed down into her. The beautiful way that her body was rolling into yours, and how she was holding you by the arms, so close to crescendo that she wanted to cry. Not to mention the way you were looking at her like she was about to be devoured like a fucking feast. 

“Go one, scream for me baby,” You leaned down and kissed over her neck, angling yourself so you could press your thumb against her clit and rub at the sensitive bud while thrusting your thick fingers into her. You ignored the cramp in your wrist and refused to let up. Ellie was so fucking close and you wanted to be the one who brought it out of her. “Scream for me. Let everybody in this fucking town know whose fucking you so good.” 

Her hips bucked up into your hand and you half-expected her to actually scream. But no, Ellie had a better idea in mind. Her inner walls squeezed your fingers and her moans grew with pitch before you felt her pulse around the digits, her head going back as she opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out. 

You were worried she would actually shriek but Ellie fell forward and bit down on your neck, hissing through the pleasure as you fucked her through the orgasm of her life. Tears began streaking down her face as she whimpered into your flesh and ground her hips down into your touch. 

A bruise would almost certainly be left behind on your skin, but you didn’t care. You held her close and gave soft little kisses against your cheek as she had a moment of relief before she felt your fingers still moving and she immediately grabbed for your wrist to make you stop. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck, stop stop stop,” She pleaded, forcing your hand to still as she looked down at you, breathing hard and shaking with aftershocks of euphoria. Very carefully, you pulled your fingers out of her cunt and gave her clit a few more rubs before retracting completely and rubbing at her inner thighs. “Jesus fucking Christ…” 

“Mmm, no, that’s not my name baby,” You teased, kissing her jaw and falling down next to her. Ellie scoffed, but was still smiling when she smacked your arm. You giggled and rested your chin on her shoulder, kissing at her sweat covered skin. “Wanna tell me now?” 

Ellie huffed and looked over at you while wiping the tears away from her eyes. “T-Tell you what.” 

“Why you didn’t want me with you on patrol,” You sat up a little and she blushed at seeing you were still in your underwear compared to her. “I find it hard to believe that this is the reason. Unless you like me that much…” Her silence was not comforting and you continued to jeer her. 

“Am I to believe you didn’t want me there because you wanted to fuck me that bad?” 

“No, dumbass, that’s not–” Ellie put both hands over her face and she sighed. “I can’t get you hurt again…”

You slowly laid down next to her and took one of her hands away from her face. “I’m the reason you got hurt… It was my fucking fault, and I don’t want it to happen again.” 

Almost instantly, you were leaning up and pressing a kiss to her lips all over again. Ellie whined against your mouth and slid her fingers into your hair, gently scratching the base of your scalp and making you groan on her mouth. 

When you broke the kiss, you pushed those auburn bangs away from her forehead and stroked down the side of her face, touching her in the most gentle possible way to convey that you could be gentle sometimes and not always be a hard-ass like she said you were. 

“Ellie… If it meant that you were safe, I would risk my life ten times over just for you.” 

Your words resonated inside of her, shaking her to the core as she blushed and took one of your hands into her grasp and kissed the inside of your wrist. This time, it was your turn to blush as she looked up and gave one final kiss before releasing your hand. 

“Don’t die for me, princess.” 

“No,” You chuckled. “I’d rather live for you, baby.” 

[lucimaaie]

ellie as spiderwoman hcs ✧.* au

a/n- honestly was just an excuse for me to watch spiderman again and i took it, kind of switch between would’ve and did idk babes im just having fun atp

playlist | spidey masterlist

she'd have lost her mom at a young age and been placed with joel, who she never gets along with at first, thinking he's just a bil ol meanie who wanted an extra check every month.

that was until he showed he cared, not through hugs and affection in the traditional sense, but making sure she did her homework, picking her up everyday, getting her out of her room, checking on her when she'd been too quiet. "you okay, kiddo?" and "i heard talking helps." he'd say as he leaned on the door frame. eventually, she couldn't help but love him.

absolutely a nerd. though, when she got teased, she didn't exactly back down as expected which landed her in the detention a few times and some talking-to's. but she won and defended herself. no one could be mad at her for that. still, she was smart. she was going to be an astronaut after all. though that dream died in middle school.

high school came and she tried to straighten up. no more fighting bullies, even if they deserved it. she was better than that. she would get an internship, the internship that would line everything up, get her a scholarship so she could study aerospace engineering, get rich and get joel out of the old house on a patch of land with however many sheep he wanted. the same internship that got her bitten by a radioactive spider and shooting webs out her wrists.

words could not describe how much she worried joel when she woke up the day after, crushing her alarm clock, breaking the sink, the shower rack, everything. she skipped that day, hanging out on the rooftop of the house while joel was away stuck between having a panic attack from the sensory overload and telling someone, anyone. she decided on testing them out which earned her quite a few bruises joel luckily chalked up to another fight. "we gotta talk about this fighting thing sometime." she'd roll her eyes, saying something snarky before limping up the stairs. "say what you want but i win," "i heard that!"

also sidebar: ellie as a new yorker...whew. honestly ellie as anything- anyway.

hours or research ensue on cross-species genetics, spiderbites, different types of spiders, everything that made her feel disgusting. she slammed her laptop closed, crushing the poor thing.

it felt like there were a million things to do with her newfound powers but the only two on her mind was impress dina and swing from the rooftops. c’mon, she was 16 with the powers of a freaking spider. who said saving people would the first thing on her mind? she felt powerful, even weirder than she already felt but still powerful.

it was terrible, watching joel get more and more disappointed in her as she got distracted. “i’m a good kid! i just got distracted, gimmie a break.” “i have given you plenty. more than i should’ve. and that’s on me. that's my mistake to make you think that coming home late and fighting and blowing me off is okay.”

“i can't help how i turned out! don't blame me for being a shitty dad.” she yelled before slamming the door and stalking off into who knows where. she didn't even mean it, she was just stressed, she never meant any of it. hours later, she’d wish those words never came out her mouth.

she'd hoped she was having some cruel nightmare when she saw joel laid out on the pavement. "some help me! c-call an ambulance. don't just fucking stand there-" her voice was raw as she screamed out. "c'mon, don't die on me. y-you can't. i'm sorry? is that what you wanna hear? i'm sorry."

she hated the looks of pity, everyone's soft voices. people who never once talked to her suddenly caring. it was all fake. they didn't know her and they sure and hell didn't know joel.

she became another person for a while. quieter, more closed off. sometimes snappy. laser focused on finding the low-life took joel from her. that's when she started wearing the mask. the basic concept of it anyway and it caught on with the people, more than she imagined. ellie scoffed at the name spider-woman at first, thinking it was ridiculous. she wasn't some circus performer, she was just trying to find the killer.

dina as her mj, reaching out to her after joel’s death, inviting her over for dinner, talking to her in class, all of it. it wasn’t the same disingenuous pity she hated, she could feel she cared. so she allowed her feelings to fester. being with her actually helped. it was one more thing to balance with school and the internship and her mission, but it was more person in her life. she needed that.

one day ellie went running towards the trouble. not because joel's killer was there or cause of some adrenaline rush, but because she needed to do something. to not be helpless for once. she wasn't helpless. she hadn't felt completely in control of her body as she webbed a whole bridge back together and pulled cars back onto the surface, but in the end it was a like a high. it still ached to see kids running to their parents and everyone running to their families, but they were all safe. she did that. and that felt better than getting revenge and letting it suck the life out of her. so she'd wear the spandex and the mask and go by the stupid name. only cause it meant something now.

thank you for reading!

[astralis-ortus]

love, am i home?

✱ bestfriend!bc × gn!reader

— how can you tell it's not simply an infatuation?

w.count → 0.6k genre → angst, one-sided love warnings → minor cussing, mention of alcohol but no described consumption a.n → honestly i don't even know what i wrote i am feeling feelings soooo yeah! also, there's a few mentions of bambam as the home owner lol ⋆ see masterlist

“do you reckon i’ll fall in love someday?’

chan’s odd, unprovoked question nearly made you choke on the strawberry-lychee juice you were trying so hard to savor. worse, your heart also took a hit from it—which, frankly, you should have been preparing yourself for from the day you realized that your hiking heart bpm whenever chan was sitting a little too close was not exactly a normal reaction between friends.

“yeah,” you barely managed to quip a reply, setting your half-empty paper cup on the coffee table across the tan leather couch before chan could send another unwarranted hit on your poor heart. “i mean, didn’t you have a few relationships before?”

well fuck—now he’s going to elaborate, isn’t he. good job, dumbass.

sometimes you wonder why you’re trying so hard to be a good friend when you do realize it will only further tighten the chains wrapped around your chest. does bambam have some alcohol in the fridge? also, where the fuck is he?

“fair point,” a long sigh escaped his lungs as chan fully leaned onto bambam’s ridiculously large sofa, eyes tracing whatever interesting shape he could find on the ceiling of their still-missing friend’s apartment, “but i wonder if those feelings were actually… love, you know? not merely infatuation?”

“i don’t, actually,” you playfully snickered, hoping the faint smile on your lips would help in numbing the dull ache spreading on your chest. “i mean, as far as my experience goes, i think it has always been love for me.”

“and how does that feel?”

“how?” the faint urgency in his voice pulled your line of gaze towards chan—unexpectedly meeting his pair of curious brown eyes, and you sighed. are you really going to say it?

you were preparing a joke, really. deflecting, avoiding his question, all that thing.

you really were.

and you know, with every part of your bones, you’re probably going to regret this.

“uh, well, it feels like…”

the butterflies when i see your name lit up my phone screen.

the odd twist in the pit of my stomach when i hear you talk about that new friend you made and how you thought they were beautiful.

the way my lips followed yours into a smile when you excitedly told me about a new song idea and how spring flooded my chest when you said it’s our little secret.

the sudden void when you told me you asked that new friend of yours to go out for dinner, and how my heart went numb when you brightly exclaimed that it would technically count as a first date.

an excruciatingly long roller coaster of emotions,

an endless hike under the scorching summer sun,

a long night staring at where the waves breaks,

and yet…

“it was home.”

“…home?”

“yeah,” you shrugged, fingers hiding inside the sleeves of your hoodie while you pull your knees closer to your chest, “home.”

“it’s everything that is good, everything that’s not quite there, and yet you can’t help but find yourself longing for every piece of it. you accept that it’s not going to be perfect and never will be, and yet you’re still willing to continuously nurture that feeling because, well, you love them, and even if it eventually didn’t work out… you’d still think it’s worth the effort to try.”

you don’t know what the silence between you now meant.

you don’t know, and probably would never want to find out.

you’d hate to know who he thinks about when he opens his mouth,

and you’d forever thank bambam for his impeccable timing with bags full of thai foods in his hand.

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡