#i hate blocking but if this person doesn't stop that will be my next move sorry 😭

[messymoonmad]

I HATE THAT I HAVE TO DO THIS 😭😭😭

Guys I'm a people pleaser. If you ask nicely something cool I'll answer it. I welcome oc interactions as much as other ask blogs interactions (when the ask is funny and creative I actually enjoy it !!)

But for the LOVE OF GOD. don't spam me with asks that will only satisfy yourself...

Keep in mind I'm talking about ONE PERSON sending the same kind of ask about their OC (I deleted 3 of those) like I'm not a characterAI bot ... pls stop 🙏🏻

Also this feels like you want me to draw your oc and my design for free... I have commissions for that so don't put that in my blog please thank you 🤨

[bingbongsupremacy]

Notice Me

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Warning: Reader wears a dress, cursing

Summary: You really want Steve to notice you. What you don't realize is that Eddie's been there all along.

Eddie is only 1 yr older than the reader.

*Not Proof Read*

Ok, I had a bit of a brain block halfway through writing this one. I hope it's not too noticeable. I hope you guys enjoy it! Thanks for reading!

□□□□□□□□

" I don't think I've ever seen you in a dress. " Jeff states with a mouthful of sandwich.

" I'm trying something different. " I set my tray down across from the guy. " Why, does it look bad? "

" No, just different. " Eddie adds in, a smile on his face.

God, I love that smile. Stop. Don't make it weird. He doesn't like you. Besides, what if it makes things in the friend group weird? It's better to date someone outside of the group like Steve.

Across the room I spot the boy in my thoughts. Steve is chatting away with some of the guys on his team, oblivious to my gaze. He's not bad looking. Definitely not Eddie, but not hard on the eyes.

I tear my gaze away from the boy only to discover Eddie looking at me. He glances back at the table I was looking at and then down at my clothes, his eyebrows quirking in realization. He doesn't say anything, opting to instead keep listening to Doug talk about one of the past campaigns.

Halfway through lunch I begin to pack up my things.

" Where are you going? " Eddie asks curiously, cutting off Jeff.

" The business club. They have meetings second half of lunch every Tuesday. " I don't necessarily want to go but Steve's really active in it and I figured it might be a good place to try to get to know him.

Eddie's brows furrow in confusion. " Since when are you interested in business? "

" Since yesterday when I joined. " I roll my eyes. " What is this, an interrogation? "

" Just curious. " Eddie stands up, pulling his jacket off of the back of his chair. " I'll walk you. "

" Sure. It's not thar far. "

We head out of the lunch room together in the direction the business classroom.

" Hey, don't get mad at me, " Eddie begins slightly nervously. " But are you doing all of this, " He gestures to my clothes and the room down the hall. " for Harrington? "

I feel heat rise to my cheeks. I had hoped no one would notice. " What makes you say that? " I try to act calmly.

Eddie shrugs and shoves his hands into his pockets. " Dunno maybe because...you're dressed like every other girl in the school, you joined the club he's the president of and I saw you at his basketball game last night. You hate basketball. "

" I don't hate basketball...I just don't particularly enjoy or understand it. " I say while stopping in front of the classroom. Inside lots if kids are sitting around the tables, waiting for Steve to talk.

Eddie rolls his eyes. " You hate basketball. So you're doing all this for a guy? Why? Because you like him? "

My eyes widen. I clamp my hand over his mouth, pulling the boy away from the open door. " Shut the fuck up, Eddie. Someone could hear you. " I hiss. I move my hand away from his soft lips.

I wonder how it would feel to kiss-Stop.

I step away from the guy, needing to create some distance between us.

" Look, personally I don't think it's a good idea to do what you're doing. " Eddie begins. " But it's your life. Whatever. Listen, " Eddie pulls out a folded slip of paper from his ripped jeans. " the band landed a gig at The Hideout next Friday and I'd really love if you'd come watch. " He unfolds the paper to reveal a printed poster of the band and the bar name.

" Oh fuck yeah, Eddie!! I knew you'd land a gig! " I exclaim while wrapping the boy into a hug. " I'm so fucking proud of you, dude. I'll be there, I swear. "

Eddie wraps his warm arms around me. The faint smell of weed and cheap cologne fills my nostrils, a smell that's just so Eddie.

His face is so close to mine. I can feel his breath on my cheek. If I lean a little I could just k-Stop it. He doesn't like you like that. You're just a friend.

" I should be getting inside. " I pull away, needing to create some distance between us to clear my head.

Eddie gives me a small wave good bye.

I step into the classroom and take a seat at one of the tables. This is going to be boring as shit.

The club meeting seems to take forever to finish up. I don't understand half of what anyone is saying nor am I very interested in finding out what it means. By the end, I'm very happy when the end of lunch bell rings.

I begin to pack up my things when I notice Steve walking towards me.

" Hey! Are you new to the club? " He asks kindly. His smile is wide and friendly. He extends a hand.

I shake his hand and smile back. " Yeah, actually! I joined yesterday. "

" Well, it's always nice to see a new face. I'm Steve. I don't think we've ever officially met. Are you in my next hour math class? "

I nod. " I am, yeah! I'm Y/N by the way. "

Steve grabs his backpack from one of the tables as we walk towards the door. " Is it cool if I walk with you then? "

" Of course. "

Steve's actually pretty nice. Very smart too. He has a bit of a reputation of being a bully, especially around Tommy, but so far I can't see it.

He helps math pass by a lot faster, especially since he understands the concepts a lot more than me.

" Are you free this Thursday? " Steve asks.

That's the day we play DND. Shit

But who knows if I'll get another opportunity with Steve like this.

" Yeah. " I nod, jotting down an answer on my homework. " Why? "

" Well, a few of my friends and I are going Donny's Diner after school to hang out. You're welcome to come if you'd like. "

I'm so torn. Eddie or Steve? Well, there's always another campaign next week. Who knows if Steve will invite me out again.

" Sounds like fun. I'll be there. "

********

" Come on, Y/N. This is 7 millionth time you've canceled on plans with us in two weeks. Is loverboy really that important? " Eddie's voice is slightly annoyed.

" Relax, Ed. It's only been 2 times. I promise I'll go to the next movie night, I swear. "

Eddie sighs. " You better. I miss hanging out with you, who else am I supposed to make snide comments with? "

" What about Gareth? "

" Gareth's not at peak humor like you are. "

A soft 'hey' makes its way through my phone.

" I'll be there next time. " I feel bad for ditching our monthly movie night, but Steve invited me to a party.

" Are you still coming to the gig on Friday? " Eddie asks hopefully.

" I wouldn't miss it for the world. "

Eddie and I end our phone call just in time for Steve and Nancy to show up.

I've actually had a lot of fun with Steve and his friends the past few weeks. I'm not the biggest fan of Tommy and Carol, but Nancy and Barb aren't that bad.

" Are you coming to the game on Friday? " Nancy asks while handing me a beer.

Eddie's gig's on Friday.

" What time is it? " I ask while taking a sip of the amber liquid.

" Varsity starts and 7 and ends at 8-8:30. We're all planning on going to Donny's after. You should come. " Nancy invites with a warm smile.

Corroded Coffin plays at 10. If I'm careful, I should be able to make it.

" I'll be there. "

I just really have to keep track of time.

******

" I can't believe you shot from that far, that was amazing. " I compliment Steve in awe.

Steve smiles widely. " I honestly can't believe it either. I'm still in shock. "

I'm glad I came out tonight. I didn't really understand the game but it's been nice to talk to Steve and the others. Although, I feel like I might've forgotten something.

Eddie.

" Shit. " I blurt, my eyes widening. I look over at the clock on the diner wall. 10:40. " I've got to go. " I hurry out of the diner booth I'm in.

" Is everything alright? " Steve asks in confusion.

" I forgot I had to do something tonight. " I explain quickly. " Thank you guys for inviting me, I'll see you later. " I excuse myself. I quickly pay my tab with the waitress before heading out to my bike. Thank god I chose to bring to with me instead of taking a ride with Steve. There's no way I could make it to The Hide Out on foot.

Eddie's going to kill me. I can't believe I forgot about tonight.

I pull up to the bar to see the guys loading up the back of Eddie's van. Shit, I missed it.

Eddie doesn't acknowledge me as I pull my bike to a stop a few feet away from the band.

" I'm so sorry, guys. " I apologize to Jeff, Gareth and Doug who are closest to me.

" T's fine. " Gareth mumbles. " Eddie's the one who's pissed. "

Over his shoulder, I can hear Eddie curse as he drops a box of cords on the street floor.

" You should go talk to him. We'll give you guys space. We've got stuff to clean up inside anyway. " Jeff leads the guys back into the bar leaving me and Eddie alone outside.

Part of me wishes they were still here. I'm fucking terrified to talk to Eddie. I know I let him down. I just hope I didn't fuck everything up.

" I'm sorry, Edd-"

Eddie cuts me off. " You promised. " He stands up from his place by the fallen box of cords, his eyes filled with anger and hurt. " You fucking promised, Y/N. You said you'd be here. You missed the whole fucking thing! "

" I'm sorry, I lost track of time. I went to dinner with Steve and his friends and I-"

Eddie lets out a bitter chuckle. " Of course, you were with Steve. When aren't you with Steve? It's like you've completely forgotten that you have other friends. "

" Thanks not true! " I argue, beginning to feel defensive. " I hang out with you guys all the time. "

" Bullshit. You've blown us off every chance you've gotten to. " Eddie tosses the cords into the back of his van, quickly moving to pick up the rest of his stuff.

He's not wrong. I hadn't realized how many times I'd stood the boys up. How many times I'd stood Eddie up.

" I don't even know you anymore, Y/N. " Eddie's voice is soft but full of hurt. " You've become a completely different person. Your style, your interests. "

" I'm allowed to change, Eddie. "

" The problem is you're not changing because it's shit you like. You're changing because you want someone to like you. You're lying to yourself and you're lying to Steve. If he can't like you the way you normally are, then he doesn't deserve to be with you. You need someone who accepts you for the way you are. Not someone you need to change for. " Eddie shakes his head in disapproval. " You know what, Y/N, I'm done. "

My brows furrow in confusion. " What? "

" I'm done waiting for you, Y/N. " Eddie avoids my gaze, his face lighting up from what I think is anger. " You never seem to realize that I'm here. I fucking like you. "

My eyes widen.

Eddie likes me?

" I like the way you dress. I like the way you smile. I like the way you're always you! Or at least, the way you were always you. But I'm not good enough for you, and I see that now. Nothing I ever do will make you like me back. "

A sinking feeling builds in my stomach as I realize what Eddie's about to say.

" I can't be your friend anymore. I-I thought I could handle it but I can't. We're done, Y/N. " Eddie turns and begins to quickly walk back into the building.

" Eddie! " I call after the boy, trying to chase him into the bar. " Wait-Eddie! "

The bouncer at the door refuses to let me in, his strong arms holding back from getting inside.

" Eddie! Please! "

He doesn't look back. He doesn't listen.

I fucked up.

*****

It's been three days since I missed Eddie's band preform. He's completely ignored me at school. I don't eat lunch with the boys anymore, it's too awkward. The one day I tried Eddie didn't bother to show up.

I've spent the last few days thinking about Eddie's confession. How did I miss it?

I'm so fucking stupid.

It was so obvious.

He opened my door. He stood up for me. He went out of his way to make sure I got home safe after work. He always showed up to important events for me. He gave me gifts.

And I couldn't even make it to the most important thing to him.

How could I think he wouldn't like me back?

I'm a shitty person. I'm a shitty friend.

" Hey, Y/N. " Steve's voice pulls me out of my head.

I look up to see the boy sitting across from me with a smile. " Hey. " I smile weakly at him.

This is my other issue. I have to tell Steve I've been lying.

Steve seems to notice something wrong. " Are you okay? "

I shake my head. " Not really but I will be. Eventually. "

" Do you want to talk about it? "

He's so sweet. Why did I fucking lie to him?

" You're going to hate me. " I whisper.

Confusion falls Steve's face. " I couldn't hate you. What are you talking about? "

It's now or never.

" I lied to you, Steve. " I begin. " And in the process, I hurt you and someone I really care about. " I gesture down to my clothes. " This isn't me, Steve. I don't wear shit like this. "

Steve's eyes widen.

Embarrassed to see his reaction, I look away. I know he's going to hate me.

" I don't wear dresses and I don't wear uncomfortable shoes like this. I fucking hate business. And I really couldn't care less about basketball. I'm sorry I just don't understand. What I'm saying is, Steve, I liked you and I tried to become someone else to impress you. But I can't do that. It's not fair to you or me. "

I close my eyes, preparing for Steve to curse me out or call me a freak or something.

He doesn't.

" I know. "

I snap my head towards him. " What? "

Steve sends me a small smile. " I know you were lying. "

" How? "

Steve chuckles. " We were in middle school together. And I saw you around the school before we started talking in class. I know what you dress like. I figured you weren't that into business because every time we go to a club meeting you look like you're about to fall asleep. Also, we don't have goalies in basketball. And I had a hunch that you might've had a crush on me, I just didn't have the heart to tell you I'm dating Nancy. I really like hanging out with you, just only as friends. " He says softly.

I feel heat rush to my cheeks. I knew all along. I drop my head onto the table in front of me, trying to hide myself from the boy. This week keeps getting worse and worse. " I'm so fucking stupid. "

Steve gently pats my arm. " No, you're not. I should've told you about Nancy. We all make mistakes, I'm sure whatever you did to your friend, if you just apologize it'll help. "

I peek over my arms and sigh. " I don't know. I messed up pretty bad. "

Steve leans back in his chair. " Well, we've still got about 40 minutes of lunch left. If you want to talk, I'm all ears. "

" Well, it started the day after I found out we had a class together..." I explain the while situation to Steve who's silent majority of the time. He doesn't make me feel judged, just heard.

At the end he finally speaks.

" That's a lot. "

I groan. " I know. And now I don't known what to do. "

" I think you should apologize and tell him how you feel. What's the worst that could happen because of it? " Steve gently pats my hand.

" You're right. " I sigh. " I should go talk to him. " I push myself up out of my chair. " Thanks Steve. "

Steve sends me a smile. " Of course, anytime. "

Now it's time to fix things with Eddie.

******

Mismatched music pours out of Gareths garage as I come to a stop on my bike.

They're tuning up.

Memories of me hanging out with the guys while they practice fill my mind as I get closer to the building.

My heart pounds. What if Eddie hates me? What if they all do? Gareth and Jeff were a little upset but they got over it pretty quickly. Doug didn't give a fuck. What if that's a lie?

Eddie laughs at something Jeff says before turning around and seeing me. His laughter and smile slowly fade until he's left with a neutral expression. " Hey. " He greets quietly, so quiet it's nearly drowned out by Doug's guitar.

" Hey. " I respond feeling awkward. I glance around to see my friends watching us in confusion.

Normally when we get into fights it's over in a few hours. A day at most. Not this one.

" Can we talk? " I ask.

Eddie studies me for a moment. He looks like he's contemplating something. With a sigh, he sets down his guitar and begins to walk past me. " What's there to talk about, Y/N? "

We make far enough away from the garage to have some privacy.

" I want to apologize. " Will he even accept my apology?

Eddie folds his arms in front of his chest, his expression a mixture of anger and hurt. " You can't just run back to me because things with Steve didn't work out. "

" That's not what I'm doing. " I sigh. " Eddie, you were right. I was trying to change myself for someone else-to be someone else, and that was wrong. I...I liked Steve because I thought I had a better shot at somehow dating him than dating you. " I feel heat rise to my cheeks. I avoid his gaze. " I thought that you didn't like me...that you wouldn't ever like me. I mean, we've known each other for years and you've never made a move-at least none that I had realized at the time. I'm so stupid. And I'm so sorry for missing your show and missing our hang out days. That wasnt right. I made plans with you first and I should've prioritized those first. " I groan, burying my face in my hands. I'm stupid and embarrassed.

" You liked me? "

I nod, my head moving down to my arms. " Since middle school. "

Eddie is silent for a moment. " We're both fucking idiots. " He chuckles, taking me by surprise.

I look up from my arms, confusion on my face.

Eddie looks over at me, a small smile on his face. " I've liked you since middle school too. "

What the fuck.

" Are you kidding me? " I groan in frustration. " All this shit could've been avoided if we just had better observational skills. "

" And communication skills. " Eddie points out.

I nod. " What do we do now? " I ask quietly, scared of what he'll say.

Eddie sighs. " Well, if I'm honest, I'm still a little upset about you missing the show, "

Of course, that's a big thing. I hope I didn't fuck this up forever.

" but...I guess it's okay since we got invited back to play this Friday...And every Friday after that. " A wide smile spreads across Eddie's face.

" Really?! Oh my gosh, Eddie! That's amazing! I'm so excited for you! "

" Thank you, thank you. " Eddie chuckles at my excitement. " I really hope you can make it to my show this Friday though. "

I nod. " Yes. I'll be there, I swear. "

" Good, because I'd really love to introduce the bar owner to my new partner...if you want to be my new partner, that is. " A hint of nervousness is hidden in his voice as he watches my expression.

My heart pounds. Is this really happening?

" I'd love that. " I grin.

A wide smile breaks onto his face. " Let's go tell the boys. " He gently grabs my hand while threading his fingers through mine.

I am definitely going to be there for his show this Friday.

[deelavis]

I'm sure that some has talked about this before, but I have always been confused about Mello's reasoning for kidnapping Takada. I finished a read through of the Death Note manga recently and I FINALLY feel like I understand why. I'm going to break this down into 2 sections: Why he did it, and Did he intend to die?

Why he did it:

While I think it's meant to be kept somewhat vague for narrative purposes, the thing that I never understood fully was the wording in the scene:

Why specifically "his" name? Of course this line always made my little Meronia heart flutter, but before my manga read through I never quite understood it. If Near's plan to catch Kira went wrong, all of the SPK would die, not just Near. So why the emphasis on him? Especially if we are looking at a completely surface level reading of DN where Mello purely hates Near? But then I found this moment a few chapters earlier:

To summarize what is happening before and after these pages (Chapter 90), Near tells Light that there are 4 members of the SPK and that he is in Japan. He says they might meet soon. This is all coded language to challenge Light to an in person meeting. At this point Near admits that he doesn't have a concrete plan in place for confronting Light. But he knows they must meet Kira face to face and prove his identity by having a name written in the Death Note. This is prior to the SPK starting their investigation into Mikami. The part that stuck out to me was " When we meet Kira, the first person he'll write down is me, so..." To me this means that prior to finding Mikami and adding fake pages to the death note, Near planned to sacrifice himself to catch Kira if they didn't have any other options. This DIRECTLY correlates to Mello's line (read right to left):

Mello kidnapped Takada because he knew that if he didn't there was a good chance Near would die. This is literally the only reason that the text give us. Which leads me to our next part.

Did he intend to die?

While I've seen a lot of different takes on this, many of which I find very interesting, I now believe that yes, Mello kidnapped Takada with the intention to be killed by the death note. Here is my reasoning.

Mello knows better than anyone else investigating Kira how the death note works. Like L wanted to before his death, Mello used his time in the mafia to experiment with the rules of both the death note AND the shinigami eyes.

In the manga, Mello has one of the mafia members Kal Snydar (a.k.a. Jack Neylon) make a deal for the shinigami's eyes. Rod and Mello use Snydar's eyes to kill others for an extended period of time. This would give Mello at least a basic understanding of how they work; what face coverings inhibit the eyes, etc... And then after his encounter with Soichiro Yagami he becomes aware that there is always a chance that anyone associated with Kira could have the eyes. He also knows that Kira knows his name but not his face after the explosion. Meaning that he would know that the ONLY thing stopping Kira from killing him would be his face. Given that Mello never uses the death note himself but had other's use it for him, I believe that he also would theorize that Kira would do the same (such as X-Kira/Mikami, Misa, and Takada). Because of all of this he would be especially careful around anyone he knows has connections to Kira, such as Takada the spokesperson of Kira.

Moving on to the kidnapping. Mello wears a motorcycle helmet that appears to be tinted, but is clear enough to fully discern his face through. We know from previous instances that a dark tinted visor will block the shinigami's eyes from seeing your name, which most motorcycle helmets already have. Here is a comparison of a helmet used to block the face vs what Mello wore:

Mello specially chose one with a clear enough visor to see through. You could argue that he did this to show Halle who he was, allowing him to take Takada. However if this was his intention there were many other ways to make his identity clear to Halle without revealing his face. There is also the line on this page that intrigues me. "She's connected to Kira... Unless I do this..." The sentence structure implies that there is a direct consequence Mello envisions. Unless you do this...then what? Given everything else I have outlined above to me the implication is "Unless I do this then Near will die." You could argue that he’s thinking something like “Unless I do this then Near will win!” However, Mello has always been outspoken in his desire to be the one to catch Kira. If that’s what he was thinking wouldn’t it just say that? Whatever his reason is is something he can’t bring himself to say even in the privacy of his own brain.

If you were to argue that Mello didn't realize that his helmet was clear enough to see his face, this is then made moot when he takes it off in front of Takada. There was no reason for him to do this, in fact, there were a multitude of reasons not to. Even if Takada didn't have death note pages on her, Mello knows that if she escapes, Kira could easily ask her to write his name in the death note because she knows his face. You may then think "but why does Mello take precautions to not get followed and killed by Takada's men? He takes away and ships off anything that could be bugged and tracked including her clothing." This just further proves that he is trying to be killed specifically by the death note. The kidnapping is planned to a T, but he doesn't take the simplest precaution of concealing his face from one of Kira's biggest supporters.

So what was Mello’s plan? We know that Mello is someone who plans for a lot of different contingencies. We see this when he plants bombs through out his safe house in the event that he’s backed into a corner. Because of this I believe he had a few different plans. But no matter what his goal with kidnapping Takada is to force contact with Kira. In fact, Near thinks that Mello’s goal is to use Takada as bait.

What his exact plan was up in the air for me. He may have intended to be killed by her, thinking that she had access to a death note when kidnapped which would explain why he didn’t check her over before giving her the blanket to cover herself. He states that his intention of taking her clothes is to removing any tracers so her bodyguards didn’t find them. They make a deal that he will give her the blanket before taking off her underwear, where she’s hiding her pages of the death note.

Even if Mello didn’t know that you can used pages torn out of the death note, there are a few time in the series when a person hides a full death note under their clothes (Near being my favorite example). So it’s not out of the question that she could have had one tucked into the back of her underwear.

His plan also could have been to release her in some way so that she could get back to Kira and use the death note. Mello knows Kira has his name, now with Takada having seen his face Kira would have her write Mello’s name for him. Or it could have been that he intended to use her to draw Kira out and get killed by the death note in the process.

Going back to our first example from the manga, Near says "The fact that we replaced the pages in the notebook and the notebook happened to be a fake… I find it hard to believe that Mello thought that far ahead." I do agree with Near here. I don't think that Mello had figured out that the notebook was fake. But I do think that Mello could see that Near's plan had holes in it, and any mistake would result in Near getting killed. His solution was to be the name that was written in the book instead. You can argue in a lot of different ways why it was important to Mello that Near lives. Such as, Mello knew that with Near dead he didn't have any hope of catching Kira by himself with all of this resources and allies depleted. Or my favorite reason, despite his protests Mello deeply cares for Near and was willing to die if it meant Near would survive.

Please let me know any of your thoughts!

[marysdonuts]

FF idea :

Jeonghan is a type of man who understands other's emotions really quick and he knows when someone have crush on him, he flirts and teases subtly sometimes too bold but would never confess first cuz he would rather get chased instead of doing the chasing so now reader is chasing him and he is in the mood to tease to the point the reader starts losing interest and stopped the chase now what will jeonghan do?

thank you for the idea!

I want to preface this with- fckn hate nonchalant men. If it was me he would be blocked already

enjoy~

Tables have turned

Oh the almighty Jeonghan. Sent from above specifically to torture you. The popular guy who has six ladies lined up on each finger hoping to get their turn. Funny, easy on the eye but that personality? Ugh, you've seen better.

You made your interest in him more than clear, still.. to this day no definite answer. Only insufferable amount of teasing. You weren't one to play the game of push n' pull. It was getting on your nerves. Especially the constant flirting with anything that moved - just for sport. Or maybe not for sport per sé but to get you jealous. Making sure you saw him making move on somebody. There was even a moment when he jokingly almost kissed you only to pull away at the last moment, smug as hell. So full of himself.

Fuck it. Does he think he is the only one who has options? Isn't the last man on Earth for sure. The hell. Time to give him a taste of his own medicine.

//

And so you danced. You danced with every man who showed even drop of interest that night. Sending Jeonghan clear message - this is what you are missing by acting like a little bitch. Drowning one drink after another. Price? Didn't matter. They were paying.

When a friend of yours, equally as drunk, suggested to climb on the bar, you thought it an excellent idea. Both of you moving to the rhythm of some latino song with questionable, extremely toxic lyrics. Drink in hand, Great Gatsby style, you cheered the growing attendance at your feet. People going feral.

"I think you've had enough fun for today," Jeonghan's cold hand grasping your ankle "time to go home."

"Who are you to tell me if I had enough?" seemingly asking the audience a rhetorical question, crushing his fingers with your heel

"Your boyfriend~" squirming in pain

"My boyfriend?? Stop pissing me off Jeonghan. I had enough of your shit. It's not difficult to find somebody better than yo-"

Fuck, am I falling?

All the drinks from before picked the worst moment to take effect. Dizzy head, weak legs, heels plus slippery bar? Unfortunate combination. You were indeed about to hit the floor.

Next thing you know shawty got low low low - Music in the background mocking your life decisions

"Aaaaaaa" crashing down, drink spilled, body aching, pride hurt

"Actually.. It doesn't hurt that much? Guess this fat ass saved me once again." patting it lovingly

"Ugh huh, or it was someone's handsome ass that saved your fat ass" Noticing Jeonghan squished under you, also lovingly patting your bum in unison

"Yah!" jumping to your feet "Don't touch me you perver-!!!" intoxication not letting you fishing your sentence, making you wobble, once again ending up in Jeonghan's arms

"I would love to oblige, my lady," fixing strand of hair behind your ear "if only you weren't so desperate for my company." delighted smile painted on lips

This fucking bitch keeps playing with me!! You wanted to punch hole into his beautiful face. Body working faster than the mouth, clenched fist flew towards douchebag's face.

KAPOW!!!

Sadly, your fist was not at all clenched, flying much further from his face, finally landing on his chest. You weren't sure if his shirt was always this unbuttoned but what was staring at you currently - pair of *shiny* man-tiddies.

"wow" blinded by the sight

"Well, well, well," Jeonghan caressed your hand moving it over his heart "do you really want to know my feelings that much?" Mischievous eyes trying to meet the hazy ones.

"yea" gaze still kinda stuck on his tiddies

"In that case, let's go somewhere more private"

//

The first time Jeonghan kissed you was in backseat of taxi on the way to his apartment. It wasn't just a kiss. More like he was feeding off your growing excitement. Producing such obscene sounds the driver had to rise the radio volume.

//

Reaching the destination, the moment the door closed shut, you found yourself pinned against them. Jeonghan's urgent lips tracing the curve of your neck.

"You really made a number on me today, you know that?" sucking at the sensitive skin, leaving mark behind

"Oh? Allow me to laugh. The Jeonghan hot and bothered? Hard to believe." tauntingly, grasping the hair

"Tell me 'bout it..," defeated exhale tickling your ear "seeing you with all those men...didn't expect to feel like that. Made me want to jump every single one of them."

"Did it, now?" placing thumb on his bottom lip "little boy got upset when his toy was taken away?" full of irony

"I was never good at sharing" allowing the entire length of your finger feel the softness of his mouth, sucking it almost apologetically

"Forgive me?" Big brown eyes praying for redemption

Not sure if it was the residual alcohol but this time his words felt sincere. Seeing him sucking on your thumb like that, all docile and at your mercy..? Ufff, you were running too hot

"Want me to forgive you, huh, " making him sink to his knees under your authoritarian tone.

"you know what to do." parted legs offering not so subtle invitation to the sinner beneath you.

.

.

.

"At your service, my lady~"

[nanamis-bigtie]

impromptu rendezvous

↬ hanamaki takahiro x fem!reader ↬ ao3 version // kofi // commissions

cw: smut, fem & rather feminine reader, friends to lovers, drunk sex, love confessions, vaginal sex, creampie summary: through the years of close friendship you have never felt anything romantic towards hanamaki...but have you really? you feign being drunk to escape an overwhelming party and when he takes care of you, you can't bring yourself to refuse his help. instead, you keep the game rolling until you find yourselves alone in your apartment. word count: 4,791 a/n: re-upload of commission i did for @antique-remains (i'm sorry, i deleted the og post in a moment of crisis 😭) once again, thank you for letting me work for you! divider by saradika

"My, my, aren't you a good wife?"

Matsun's sarcastic comment has Hanamaki's eyebrows twitch with irritation, but he doesn't stop nor retort. He's had his good dose of alcohol too, shoelaces of your boots tangling between his fingers as he's kneeling on one knee between your legs, leaning slightly to the right. It puts strain into your own knee but you don't mind; you like the weight of his body and its warmth, especially now, your mind foggy and overwhelmed. It's familiar and personal, great comfort amidst the chaos and noise, and the crowd filling the apartment a little much for your limits.

You didn't hate the party—no, you were always looking forward to Matsun's—but it strained you far past what you expected. You didn't make it easy for yourself either, pouring too much into yourself and too fast. And tomorrow's morning classes be damned, you were ready for even more, but Hanamaki was right there, with his overshielding that was sometimes getting on your nerves, but so needed right then. Gently but firmly, he moved your glass away and excused you both from the company. Soon, you've been herded towards the hallway, packed into your jacket, having your purse shoved under your arm, and sat down for him to deal with your boots.

You're not that drunk to not be able to take care of yourself but once he's dropped to his knees, you've felt it's best to keep your mouth shut and just let him. Wouldn't be the first time either and you know better than to argue against his care—but you can't pretend you don't like him like this now, with his flushed cheeks between your legs, eyebrows knit in focus and their little twitch at Matsun's teasing behind his back. The urge to thread fingers through his hair is real and persistent; you know how soft it is, and you know the smell of his shampoo would linger on your fingers for quite some time but, again, you're not that drunk. Such a move would be shameless even for your long and close friendship, and feigning daze right under Matsukawa's nose could as well be a straight confession of feelings.

Nothing could escape those knowing eyes, even what you haven't dared to admit to yourself. No, it's better to play stupid and limp, and to nibble on your bottom lip, watching Makki on his knees for you, letting him dart you up and wrap arm around your waist once he's dressed himself, ready to lead you outside and to your apartment.

"You're gonna be okay?" Matsukawa is dead serious now, holding the door for you two and lingering there even as you make it past the garden and pavement to your Uber ride.

"We've been worse," Hanamaki scoffs, no offense taken though. "Get back there and don't drown yourself in beer."

"Sure. Don't break your legs or something."

Your place is only a couple of blocks away but in your current state it would take forever to get there on foot. You would still try though, too dazed to think of a ride, but what do you have Hanamaki for, if not for being your brain in times like these? It would be enough to pack you into the car and trust the driver with the delivery, but he took a seat next to you and let you lean against him.

Matsun's not there anymore to judge and tease you so you grow bolder, as bold as you can in presence of a bystander right under your nose. The crook of Hanamaki's neck is tailored for the shape of your head; you nuzzle up there and close your eyes, to ease the dizziness caused by car's vibrations, yes, but first and foremost to soak yourself in his scent. It's duller under the lingering smell of the party, of the crowd, smoke and that sharp, teasing aftertaste of beer and vodka, but you can still catch a glimpse of him. His cologne is subtle but persistent, like him, but there's the shampoo and shower gel combo you will always recognize after countless times of finding it in your own bathroom after he's spent a night on your couch. 

And under that, deeper, there's him, the natural scent of his body, embarrassingly familiar for the distance you, despite everything, still keep.

It's the scent you've known for the longest and, in prospect of over ten years of your friendship, it's so funny how offensive you found it at first. Always in a hurry, from volleyball club to precious hours reserved for friends, barely squeezed into his tight schedule, he skipped a shower here and there, and as he never smelled bad to you, for some reason it irritated you how much he stood out for your nose and how it distracted you.

You've drilled a habit of keeping his hygiene always on point. But now, in the confines of the small car, with the rough edge of his jacket nuzzled up to your cheek, you wish you could smell more of him, if only a little.

Friends, even the best kind, don't cram their noises into their necks during their shared Uber ride, the sobering part of your brain is trying to point your attention to that, but you ignore it. And Hanamaki doesn't mind it, even wraps his arm around you shortly before you reach your destination, way too late for your liking. But the hold soon returns, first helping you out of the car, then keeping you straight up the stairs and into the elevator, finally leading you to your door.

"Even a blind person could rob you," he mutters, fishing the keys out of your pocket with ease. The lock clicks open with half of a turn, and he sighs, concerned and amused alike.

"Shut up," you mumble, hanging on his shoulder more than needed. "No one has robbed me before."

"Fortune favors fools, eh?"

"You're calling me stupid?" You withstand when he's trying to push you past the threshold—well, as much as your wobbly legs can, heels not helping your case. You're having a taste of upper hand only because Hanamaki lets you, you know it from the playful flickers in his eyes; he's squinting and tilting head to side as you're pulling him two steps back into the corridor—just for him to set you into your prior position with a single pull.

"I'm calling you drunk and too light-hearted." He's finally done and tugs at your arm until you lose balance—and fall straight into his arms, then over his shoulder as he's tripped you, and picks you up with ease.

"I'm gonna scream!" You kick and wiggle, but he knows your tricks too well to let you slip out.

"Sure, scream, princess." Covering you with one arm, he shuts the door behind your backs. "Show me what those little lungs can do."

You're carried into the living room, then thrown onto the couch, seemingly with no care for your state, but you know Makki could be far less gentle, if he really wanted to pay you back for your little games. Your mind is fuzzy more from hanging over his shoulder than the landing itself—but still not fuzzy enough to stop you in your tracks. You shamelessly stretch legs, one foot playfully slotted in his hand; he rolls his eyes but undoes the boot, then the other, then helps you out of your jacket and carries everything to the hallway.

He's mapped your apartment better than your current, overly absent roommate has, and you're ready to bet he's actually spent more time here than her through all those years of crashing on your couch. In no time he has a bottle of water and painkillers for you, a heated blanket is pulled out of the cabinet and thrown over your legs, he even helps you with your skincare duty, bringing you make-up removal wipes.

"You could have carried me straight to bed." You didn't want to sound whiny or disappointed, but it does come across as so; you curl your shoulders, unsure of his next move and for the first time since what seems forever unable to read his expression. Hell, you're unsure of your intentions and reason behind the weird longing, your mind free of thoughts, just waiting for his reaction and feeling weirdly shy, as if you were stripped naked and left for his judgment.

Hanamaki indeed seems to judge you, his head tilted to the side just a little, eyes narrowed much like a cat's a moment before the final pounce. He often does so, an old habit of analyzing the court before a move rubbing off on every aspect of his life, but you haven't paid any particular attention to it until now, when his focus is piercing you inside out.

He can strip you of your confidence like no one, years of your friendship a blessing and a curse alike.

"That's a forbidden territory," he finally settles on ignoring the topic, not dwelling on but not quite letting it die right here and now either. "I ain't that much of a pervert to walk into some girl's bedroom just like that. Especially with a girl ripped to the tits."

"I'm not some girl to you, ain't I?" You huff and pout. "Haven't you said I'm almost like a sister?"

For a moment there's a weird look in his eyes, maybe pain, maybe disappointment, but it's quickly replaced by his good old teasing demeanor, "I wouldn't walk into my sis' bedroom either. Sorry, you either sleep here or crawl there on your own. Good luck."

Hanamaki makes a beeline for the door, ready to slink off but when you call out to him by his name, he immediately freezes and looks over his shoulder, as if you pulled on an invisible leash around his neck.

"You're not staying?" You shimmy into one corner of the couch, leaving the other half for him. "We can order Chinese. And— And maybe watch something. On Netflix or—"

"You are aware how it sounds, right?" He says but he's already throwing his sneakers and jacket off, closing the distance between you in a few wide steps. Couch dips under his weight as he's thrown himself straight at it with a loud groan, your side bobbing under you as a result.

You barely hold a yelp in your throat. Why are you so tense suddenly? You've already been way closer than on two sides of the same couch, the distance between you now wouldn't be anything weird even for people who barely know each other.

When you think about it now, your sobering mind slowly connecting the right puzzles, there is some emotional distance between you two lately. You can't pinpoint when exactly it's started; you've been slowly tiptoeing away from each other, building an invisible, thin veil in between. There's still comfort and familiarity you don't share even with your female friends but it's not the same as it used to be.

For a try, you dare to straighten your legs and rest them on his lap. Makki doesn't budge but palpably lingers with the next move; finally, he cups your feet between his big hands and massages them. You don't really need a relief for them but it's a little ritual you two have developed since you've started wearing high heels.

"Chinese then?" You draw a circle with one foot, playfully avoiding his touch.

"I won't fit a single thing more," he makes a tortured face just at the thought. "I've drunk too much."

"You don't look wasted."

Hanamaki snorts and throws head back, his face out of the range of your vision. You watch his Adam's apple bob when he swallows his laughter, your mouth dry in a way you've never felt for him. Or maybe you have but it's been easier to brush it off without alcohol clearing your mind with a sadistic precision. You're stripped bare by your own chain of bad decisions, nowhere to hide and no way to pretend anymore.

"Neither do you." He tickles the sole of immobilized foot and holds you through the spasm, merciless despite the tenderness of his hold. "You're not that drunk as you try to act, hmm?"

His fingers trail along the side of your foot and ankle, then up your shin, towards the sensitive area around your knee, a thin layer of your stocking in no way able to protect you from incoming tortures. He keeps you on the edge, fingertips hovering over the point you know it will have you scream, cry, and beg—or worse, if he tickles you for too long.

Warmth creeping straight into your core has nothing to do with this anticipation though; it's intense but not rapid, and you take it for alcohol running in your veins at first, at least until immense need for being touched overpowers everything. The urge to squeeze your thighs and trap his hand in between is strong, anxiety squeezing your lungs even stronger, the mess of thoughts and emotions in your head devastating.

It feels...wrong, to react to his touch like this. You're holding the blame for alcohol messing with you, despite being called out on it and despite your body sobering up with each draft of air. No, it surely has to be the drunkard speaking through you, otherwise you would have to admit—

(To admit it feels wrong, but you need it, you need it so bad you might cry, if you won't get it from him.)

Hanamaki grazes the ticklish spot, impatient for your answer, and this time you can't hold a yelp any longer. It's dangerously close to a moan, your heart skips a beat when your eyes meet but he only cocks an eyebrow, waiting, either missing your reaction or ignoring it.

"I had enough," you admit in a whisper, afraid the trembling of your voice will betray you. "Needed to get out but explaining it all to Matsun—"

He chuckles, amused and understanding. Matsukawa could be a pain in the ass with his overzealous nosiness and you surely were drunk enough to find it troublesome.

"You could have at least told me." He tickles you again, forcing you to laugh and jerk up. His hand slides towards the inner side of your leg and doesn't budge from there. 

You don't move, either, a little ashamed how easily you caved and accepted the crumbs off the plate. Warmth in you is pulsing, not a wave anymore but the first flicker of fire that's bound to explode if you won't extinguish it right here and now.

"Didn't want to sit here all alone." You throw head back, saving yourself at least the torture of his gaze looking for yours. You wish you didn't throw the blanket on the floor as soon as he threw it at you, you could hide under it and soak back into your excuses and lies.

"You could have told me that too." Hanamaki is unwavering, his thumb rubbing circles into your stocking. "Instead of playing... Whatever it is. Dragging me here like some drunk rando you keep tabs on, letting him seduce you."

You can't read whether he's teasing you or being dead serious—and it's terrifying. The last thing you want is to hurt him, to have him reject you and close the door not only to whatever is happening between you two now but also to your cherished friendship. You love him, as who doesn't really matter. You need him more than just the physical craving, peaking after months, if not years of repressed yearning. 

You would never forgive yourself, if you lost it all because of drunk carelessness.

"What if I said I wouldn't mind being seduced by you?" You finally break, all cards on the table. Keeping you both on the edge is the worst outcome, you would rather take the ultimate rejection than toying further with his trust and creating distance you two would never close again.

He sucks in breath through clenched teeth, a few seconds of silence unbearable for your poor, fluttering heart. Weight of his fingers against your thigh grows, he nearly sinks them into your flesh before he speaks, his voice so tense it's almost breaking, "Please tell me it was you who said it, not booze messing with me."

"I wouldn't mind being seduced by you." You repeat and adjust your position, looking straight at him now against the urge to hide your face in your hands. Embarrassment is not a word you two share in your dictionary, but the vulnerability of the moment drives you insane, each passing second feeling like burning hot liquid metal poured straight into your heart.

You watch him wipe his face with a free hand, watch his chest bob with a deep, desperate breath. Eyes closed shut, Hanamaki collects racing thoughts; you see his eyebrows twitching in intense focus, a small bead of sweat dripping down his temple. It lasts a few heartbeats, it feels like hours, surely for the both of you, years of experience in reading each other no relief on this completely different ground.

"You have no idea how many times I've dreamed about it." When he finally speaks, his voice is hoarse and guttural, speaking straight from his core and stripped bare. "Since the last year— Fuck, I don't know for how long, maybe from the beginning... I feel like I always wanted you—"

He hides face in both hands now and groans, frustrated with his own helplessness and tongue tied with the remains of a drunk haze. Both of you have lost the majority of it at this point, though, at least at the mental level.

"I suck at confessions." He finally admits the obvious and you both collapse into giggles in relief. "I'm much better with my hands."

They're both at you again, exploring your legs with more punch to it. Makki follows the seam of your stockings, up and under the hem of your dress until he reaches the lacey welt and toys with them. He takes his time stripping you of them, teasing and testing, relishing in the feel of your bare skin slowly revealing itself for him.

His fingers are warm, but you still shudder when he cradles your ankles and glides up your calves. You spread your legs for him, but he doesn't reach further, for now satisfied with little twitches and goosebumps covering your skin. He's making you pay for your little lie, you realize with an impatient mewl, and he wouldn't mind having you pull the rope towards yourself, but you let him have his way. You feel guilty, after all, for the quirk of tonight and the silence of numerous months. He can have this moment of triumph.

He's bored with it faster than you thought.

"C'mon, baby girl," he tosses your legs away and pats his lap, a faint teasing smirk on his lips.

You don't need to be told twice.

You roll your dress further up and straddle him. Not until now you realized how tense and hot and heavy you've been, your starved and sensitive pussy twitching just at the brush of his jeans. Thin layer of your panties could as well just not exist, you grind on him for relief—irregular, sharp moves of hips, soon cut by both of his arms wrapped tight around you.

Makki kept himself in shape, you note with satisfaction feeling his muscles tense against your waist. You know of his gym routine, of course, but it's a whole different world when you can touch and appreciate him in his whole glory. You sink your hands under his t-shirt, trace his abs and chest to your liking as you lean for a kiss, at first shy, then sliding your tongue in with ease.

You've imagined it before, but the reality is nowhere close to your fantasies. He's good, he's so incredibly good despite the aftertaste of everything you've poured into your throats before and the clumsiness of the first shared kiss. You're ready to drown in it, forgetting about the whole world, even about the dull pulsing between your legs—if not for his hands relentlessly at work, one kneading your ass, the other unzipping your dress and sliding it down your shoulders.

"Can I?" Hanamaki whispers against your lips, his eyes half closed and glossy. He traces the clasp of your bra and undoes it immediately as you nod.

Dress is rolled down your waist, bra—thrown behind the couch. Makki leans back to see you better, mouth slightly agape at the sight. He squeezes your breasts with both hands, feeling their shape against his palms, swallows hard.

"You're so hot..." He mutters, close to choking on his own words.

You press into his touch, chase the closeness as you grind against him with the right rhythm and pressure now. He welcomes you with a needy groan, his face shoved into your neck, sucking and nibbling, and even daring to bite.

"I'm sorry," he kisses a beeline towards your chest, hot breath grazing your perky nipple.

"You're not sorry," you pull him closer, fingers threading through his hair.

"Yeah, I'm not."

Makki's tongue is divine against your skin. He sucks on your tits with fervor, at first tries to tease, but quickly forgets himself, encouraged by your breathy moans and nails scratching his scalp. He's soon answering the rhythm of your hips too, the front of his jeans bulging, surely tight for his hardening cock. It takes you a few tries in the confines of his hold, but you finally open his belt and zipper and help him out of his briefs.

He groans in relief but doesn't stop sucking, just bucks into your hand when you give him the first, testing stroke. You follow the wordless request, build up a decent rhythm for him even if he doesn't make it easy for you with the work of his lips and fingers. Holding you firm with one arm, he reaches between your legs and returns the favor, fingers toying with your slit.

"So wet for me already?" He tries to tease, his voice on the verge of a needy moan under the relentless ministrations of your hand. His eyes roll into the back of his head as you swipe your thumb against his sensitive tip. "Fuck, that's right... Right here, baby."

You love the way it rolls off his tongue, this casual, endearing pet name he's sometimes used before just to fuck around with you. It's sweet and desperate, drenched with need as he's rutting into your palm, for a split moment forgetting about you and mumbling it again into your breasts once catching himself on being sloppy.

You're honestly no better, losing your mind whenever his fingers toy with your entrance. You want him inside, so badly it tears you apart, but you know you're going to forget yourself as soon as you get what you want. His cock pulsing in your hand doesn't make it easy for you, it's like a torture at this point, torture you want to—have to—endure for him. One finger in, two, three—you clench your teeth and squeeze him tighter in your hand, on the verge of begging him to ruin you, fighting against it, soaking in immense pleasure of having your slick walls caressed exactly how you need it.

"Not gonna— Fuck, last long if you—" Hanamaki peels himself off your chest, puts everything he still has in him into pushing his high away. "Lemme— Lemme take care of you first."

He guides you to lean against him, hands against his chest, hips angled to reach your sweet spot better. Focused on self-control, you missed how he's been relentlessly looking for it, testing, observing, attentive despite his own need trying to take over.

"T-there..." You help him as much as your trembling thighs let you, arching your ass into his hand. "Don't stop now."

"I won't."

Toes curling and pleasure turning your body into spasm, you almost lose the perfect balance at the crucial moment. But Makki is there for you, holding you close and right, helping you ride your high until the last delicious second. You slump against him, blessed, exhausted but nowhere close to being full; you mewl with protest when he pulls out of you.

Makki cocks an eyebrow, surprised and hopeful at the same time, "Do you still wanna—"

You glance down at this dick, beads of precum glistening at its tip, and put the last ounce of power left in you into lifting your hips once again. He mutters something about lack of protection, neither of you listen, sanity all gone with a single swipe between your folds.

"Gonna be slow—" You can see in his eyes how much it costs him, to be mindful of your weakened, overstimulated state instead of throwing you on your back and fucking you stupid. You would take it, you would take everything, but his restraint tastes the best now.

He keeps his word, filling up inch by inch, holding you to ease strain for your trembling knees. Before your head falls into the crook of his neck, you catch a glimpse of his expression, blissed out from the simple pleasure of your wet pussy squeezing him tight. He whispers your name like a prayer, cradling you close and fully impaled on him, savoring the moment before you force your bodies to move again.

You start first but you can bounce on it only a few times before he has to take over, holding your hips for you. He stays true to his promise; even when his arms start giving up and his upward thrusts grow sloppy, he stays gentle and sweet—as much as a man drunk of you can when chasing his high. 

There's no rhythm to it, more than anything you just sway together, but just being full of him is enough. Thighs flush to him, you soak into him, chest to chest, your face in the crook of his neck, his breath heavy and moist in your ear. He throbs deep in you, close to release since the moment he's sunk into you, but stubborn to endure a little more, for another thrust, for another frantic budging of your hips, for another twitch of your pussy around him. He struggles to praise you for it too, his voice dying on him whenever he tries though, leaving him with just a string of groans and pieces of your name in between, over and over again.

He's trying to say it one more time when it finally hits him. His arms tremble and he sinks you onto his cock one more time, spilling his seed deep inside. You hold him through it, nails digging into his shoulders through the t-shirt, almost crying in your own overstimulation. 

Hanamaki wraps himself around you as well, soaking into your dry sobs, one hand soothingly petting the small of your back.

"You did so well, baby," he rasps into your ear, kissing the trail of sweat next to it.

You did so well—like back in high school when you broke your dominant arm and struggled to take notes with the other. When you got drunk for the first time and he held your hair as you were leaning over the toilet. When you broke and cried after a hard exam in your first year. When you finally got rid of your horrible ex.

He's praised you so many times before. But none sounded as sweet as the one now, in his embrace, breathing in air full of his scent, sharing the warmth of your sweaty bodies.

Still connected, you lean together to the side and collapse into the couch. It's uncomfortable, especially for Makki and his long limbs, but you both have reached your limit, and even a risk of being eventually caught by your roommate doesn't prompt you to move.

"You were right, should have carried you to the bedroom," Hanamaki sighs heavily against your neck and cradles you closer, as away from the edge as you both can fit.

"I'm always right," you chirp with confidence and prompt yourself for a pinch or nudge you would get in return, but he just laughs and guides your head to rest in his palm.

"Let's leave regrets and consequences for tomorrow." He says after a moment of silence, long enough for you to think he's dozed off. His lips are pressed close to your skin, his voice barely audible. "I don't wanna think of anything else other than you finally in my arms."

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for telling someone they're a horrible person and making them relapse?

trigger warning: self-harm, suicide(?)

so im, like many teenagers online, an avid participant of fandom spaces and my current favorite is genshin impact. if you've ever interacted with the genshin fandom you may guess where this is going but i happened to find myself liking a ship that is the big nono ship in this fandom (aka the incest ship, kaeluc) but since i mostly stick to my space and don't really interact with anyone that doesn't already have content of this ship on their account id never gotten into any hot water over it.. until recently.

this person, ill call them rick, suddenly liked a bunch of my (non-ship related) posts. normal interaction, i didn't think anything of if and moved on. (i didn't even notice at the time, but they unliked all of the posts before what happened next, i assume as they realized i was a proshipper and didn't want to associate with me.) next thing i know, the same user is in my askbox, sending me the most vile, hate filled messages i have ever seen.

ok... no biggie. i delete the asks, block them and move on with my life. but it doesn't stop. i had never in my whole life received hate online, but now for the first time ever, i had a dedicated hater, sending me anonymous asks at all times of the day. death threats, dox threats, telling me to kill myself, calling me a degenerate and all that, all with the same consistent writing style. now, one could say that maybe this wasn't rick, and maybe not even all the same person but i really feel like this is the only reasonable explanation considering i have like 6 followers and my most famous post has 3 notes. i don't think im important enough to have that many haters.

so, i did the only thing i could think to do: turned off anon asks. then the asks started coming from random throwaway accounts. ok...turned off asks. then it was dms. turned those off too. THE FUCKING COMMENT SECTIONS OF MY POSTS.

dedication isn't enough to describe this. at this point it's actually becoming distressing to me and im considering closing my whole account cause i just wanna get away from all this. im 16, i don't have the mental capacity to spend all day policing my social media because someone wants me to die for liking fictional incest.

so i very reluctantly unblock rick and send them a dm. i very gently ask if they are the person who has been sending me asks/dms/etc and if they are, if they could please stop because it's become genuinely distressing to me and i just want to be silly on a website. they block me.

alright, im now out of options. everything on my profile is blocked at this point and i don't even want to post anything else so i just kind of leave the account behind for a while. when i come back, i discover that someone HACKED into the account and defaced the whole thing (changed pfp, deleted posts etc etc) so now im genuinely bummed. i go to rick's profile and guess who has been unblocked? i ask them if they can please answer my question. they don't answer but instead tell me i deserve everything ive gotten and i should choke for all they care.

i tell them they're a terrible person and go absolutely off the rails like the dumb, upset teenager i am. i didn't say anything particularly horrible (mostly i just tell them about how awful they've made me feel over fictional shit that really doesn't matter and how i just wanted peace) but i definetely wouldn't like to receive a message like that. and rick didn't either, because they blocked me.

well, since im sure you're wondering where this comes in, here's where i kind of feel like an asshole:

i continued to stalk rick's account on a different blog (because i was bitter. ok?) and they've been posting about how they relapsed into self harm because of a message they received from a stranger and how they've been crying non-stop and this is the worst relapse they've had in years and etc etc and i just got this pit in my stomach. this person's bio says they're 15! i don't want to ever be the reason a fifteen year old is hurting themselves! i've been feeling like a piece of shit ever since (esp since i also deal with sh) and i just feel like the worse person ever. i honestly don't know if i was just acting like anyone else and this was an unfortunate consequence or if i need to go pray for god to forgive my sins or something.

aita?

What are these acronyms?

[sadhornyygirl]

Kinktober

Day 18: Hate-fucking (billy loomis)

- Fear? — Eric repeats the same question in a provocative tone.

She turns her face in the macabre, dimly lit environment, letting me see her irritated expression.

— It’s going to take half an hour, damn it — He says between his teeth.

Jack barks and tries to go after a doll that walks by us singing a little children's song that isn't peaceful.

Eric laughs, but stops when a bloodcurdling scream rings through the room we're in. More people who entered with us begin to scream and scatter throughout the house, disappearing from our sight.

— You talk about me so much, but you're also peeing your pants — Briana teases Eric.

— Oh, shut up and walk — He orders, pushing us forward.

When I go to stow my small bag on my shoulder, my eyes lock on the person with a mask and black hoodie staring at me through the countless pieces of glass. My heart accelerates and I look back, seeing him disappear through a door.

— I don't think we should have come to this shit — I say, still staring at the door where the clown disappeared.

—Are you scared? — Briana laughs, but seems nervous.

— I have a bad feeling... — I say, looking around.

I feel something strange and the masked man intrigued me, even if he was just another attraction.

— Have you seen the place you are in? — Eric is sarcastic, but I see his throat swallow hard.

We move to another room and I scream softly when someone runs their hand through my hair, and when I look back, there's no one there.

— Someone also touched my arm! — Eric says, looking around.

Jack barks and growls, position ready to attack.

— Relax, they're just fantasy people... — She stops talking when a faceless, all-black figure advances towards her. Briana does the most unexpected thing in the world. She punches him.

The figure, which appears to be a guy, staggered back a few steps with his hand on his non-existent nose. Jack barks, but at least he doesn't seem aggressive.

- Cum! — Briana curses, grabbing the hand she used to punch the man.

— Shit, Briana! — Eric says, but he seems to want to laugh — The guy is just working — He walks up to the guy.

Briana rests her hand on her heart looking at her victim with an awkward smile, but I can say for sure that the blood has disappeared from her well-defined face.

Eric laughs, but it stops when zombies start coming through the door Briana is heading towards. She stops in place and starts walking backwards, pulling Jack with her.

— I... I'm afraid of zombies... — Eric whispers next to me, his eyes wide.

When I least expect it, he runs through the other door and Briana follows suit, tugging at the skirt of my dress so I can follow them. Jack tries to stop in place when I see that I haven't even left mine and barks, as if calling me.

My breath catches when I see a spider crawling up the face of one of the zombies, specifically in its eye. Or what's left of it. I scream and run in the direction my friends went.

I see Eric running in another direction and when Briana goes to follow him, a woman dressed in white blocks her path, making her go in the opposite direction. As if her neck was broken, she slowly turns it towards me, fixing her eyes on me.

She walks towards me and I look at the door next to me, seeing the zombies coming. Unable to follow my friends, I run in another direction. I clutch my bag against my stomach, fearing it will fall in the process. A man with a knife comes up to me and I widen my eyes, entering the first room I find.

I slam the door, locking it and move away from it a little. Someone turns the doorknob trying to get in, but fails miserably. I sigh, relieved that at this moment I have at least a little peace in the chaotic environment.

That's what I thought, but chills rise throughout my body and I swallow hard, looking back. Standing just a few meters away from me is the same masked guy who stared at me in the mirror. He takes a step forward and I take another step back.

I turned my back and walked towards the door, grabbing the handle. Just as I'm about to turn it, a hand slams against the old wood, making me jump in fright. My heart is in my mouth, refusing to beat properly again.

He's after me, and has me right where he's wanted me this whole time. Alone.

I take my pocket knife out of my bag and slowly turn towards him, raising my eyes to him.

- Who are you? — I ask with a trembling voice, gripping my knife tightly.

The stalker is leaning on the door by his elbows, his arms on either side of my head, trapping me in his cage. And I don't know if I'll be able to get out of it.

- What you want? — I insist, ready to kill him if necessary.

The stalker tilts his head to the side, seeming to study me.

— I won't ask again — I say through gritted teeth — Who. Cum. AND. You? — I ask for the last time.

He takes one of his hands away from the door and carefully, I see his hand go up my neck, his fingers sliding over my skin in a gesture that I almost don't feel. He grabs my neck, pressing me against the door.

The gesture is so familiar that my heart missed a beat when I recognized it.

146

— Billy… — His name leaves my lips in a whisper.

For proof of something I feel deep in my bones, I reach for the back of his head, and rip off the mask in a quick motion.

A gasp escapes me as I stare at the messy strands falling into the cruelest icy eyes I've ever seen. And they're staring at me with unparalleled amusement and mischief.

—Are you calmer, love? — He asks in a hoarse voice, looking into my eyes.

I swallow hard, trying by some miracle to get through the door with the strength of my mind. He's too close for my own good.

— Are you silent now? he asks, stroking my chin with his thumb.

His eyes scan my entire face with a kind of adoration, but there's also anger in them.

— I told you to leave me alone, you psychopath — I find my voice, moving his hand away from my neck.

Even though my skin misses your touch, I ignore it.

— And I said you only had a few hours to calm down — He says, resting his arms on either side of my head — Tick tock, time up, little monster... — I smiled.

I take a deep breath, clenching the blade.

— I don't want you anymore, can you understand that in that sick mind of yours? — I touch my own temple — We're done here, whatever shit we had — I lift my chin.

Billy laughs softly, shaking his head. I just feel the anger slowly grow in my chest, radiating throughout my body.

— Own, I love your naivety — He leans towards me until our noses almost touch — You'll have to kill me if you want this to end — He slides his nose along my cheek.

— As you wish — I reply, raising the knife towards his neck.

I don't know if it was anger or an impulsive desire, but I really intend to kill Billy. But he notices it too quickly, managing to dodge in time. But not enough to stop me from cutting your left cheek.

Billy lets go of me, taking a few steps back. He touches his cheek, staring at his blood-stained fingers. Then he lifts his head, letting me see the small cut, about two centimeters long.

I slightly widen my eyes when I see his darken darkly. I move my gaze down when a bulge in Billy's pants catches my eye. He's hard?

In response, I clench my thighs as I feel my core throb.

- Congratulations love. You just need to be more accurate — Billy says through his teeth in a dark voice, approaching me with blood running down his cheek.

He makes to grab me, but in one quick movement, I manage to hit his groin with my knee. Billy lets out a grunt, falling to his knees in front of me. I don't think as I turn to the door and open it.

Before I can pass it, a huge hand grabs my ankle and I turn to Billy. I kick his face with my other foot, making him fall on his side and consequently letting me go.

— If you wanted to play tag, you just said so, love! — I hear Billy scream, and it seems so, so close.

Desperate, I quicken my steps, feeling my heart want to come out of my mouth. It's like a horror movie and Billy is the ghostface trying to kill me. Following me. He comes without rushing because he knows that at the end of this, he will eat me alive.

I go into a room where there is no one and lock the door.

— Little monster... — Billy knocks on the door — Let me in, okay? You don't want me to blow and knock it over... — He says between his teeth, then laughing.

— Fuck you, you sicko! — I growl, running towards the other door that will lead me out.

— I bet you're wet right now... — Billy says, making me stop with my hand on the doorknob — Are you turned on by all this chasing? Is your pussy dripping for me, love? — He asks in a hoarse voice.

I rub my thighs together, denying myself. Refusing to believe that I'm enjoying this. No, I abhor what he's doing now. Because admitting that his pursuit turns me on is also admitting that I'm just as sick as he is. I ignore how affected I am and open the door, running into the other room. I need to get out of here, I need to find my friends and get out of this damn house.

I walk past her when they grab my hair from behind and pull me back inside, making me scream. I try to hit Billy again, but he grabs my arm and pins it behind my back, turning me to face him.

- Let me go! — I command, trying to pull my arm from his grip.

Billy looks up at me and my breath catches in my throat when I see the cut I made on his cheek and the thin, short trickle of blood escaping his nose. Consequence of my kick.

— Every time you use that knife on me, I get harder — He says, licking his lips while staring at mine.

Yes, I can feel the bulge poking my belly.

— It's because you're crazy — I say with disdain, raising my chin in affront.

— Yes, for every detail of yours — He says between his teeth, grabbing my hair with one of his hands again — But damn, I want to kill you now — He growls, squeezing my throat.

I stand on my tiptoes as his grip becomes almost unbearable and I feel my pussy throb. Traitor.

— She calls me sick but she's rubbing her thighs like a masochistic little bitch just because she's being hanged — She tilts her head to the side, looking at me.

— I knew you were sick, but not to the point of delirium — I tease with a smile, my voice muffled by his hand on my neck.

— I love your debauchery, but I'm very angry with you, love... — He says — You hurt my dick, but I'm sure it wasn't because you wanted to, right? — He asks with an affectionate intonation.

— I'm sorry, next time I'll make sure your heirs aren't born — I smile disdainfully.

I try to free myself once more, but it seems impossible.

— Next time, they'll be growing in your belly — Billy smirks, letting go of my hair and running his thumb along the wrist of my neck.

— Kneel — he orders, making me throb.

— I'm going to hate you at the end of all this, Billy — I whisper.

He nibbles my lip.

— Lie with your mouth on my dick — Send it.

He squeezes my scalp and I moan, falling to my knees in front of his body. Looking from below, it gets even bigger. It's like a giant that can crush me at any moment.

He lets go of my hair and takes his own hands to the zipper of his pants, pulling it down and undoing the button. He reaches into his underwear and pulls out his dick. It stands before my lips and I sigh, seeing it harder than ever.

The head is so red and the veins stand out around it. The pre-cum leaks out, sliding through him.

"Him," Billy ordered.

Looking at him in defiance, I place the thick head of his cock in my lips, sucking it. The salty taste of cum explodes on my palate and I go down even further, putting almost half of it in my mouth.

I see Billy throw his head back and groan, but still looking down at me. I narrow my eyes at him the moment I bite down on his dick. He curses, gripping my strands hard enough for me to let go and walk away.

— If you only knew how much this turns me on... — I smiled, sliding the head of his cock past my lips.

The gag reflex kicks in but controls it in time, at the exact second that Billy drags himself out and comes back with a vengeance. Tears well up in my eyes from the lack of air, but I find myself relaxing my jaw and moaning around his cock. My thighs tighten and I try to keep up with his rhythm.

He doesn't let me reason when, with his hand in my hair, he pulls me up. Billy turns me onto my back and presses my cheek to the cold wall, and I feel his cock between my thighs. He lifts my dress and then I feel a tug and the sound of tearing fabric. My panties.

- What are you doing…? — I ask even though I know the answer.

Billy doesn't answer me, he just shoves himself inside me and in a quick gesture my eyes widen at the sudden intrusion, my head kicking back and a scream escaping my numb lips.

— Fucking beg — He orders, his hand grabbing my neck.

I smirk slightly, pulling the knife away from his neck and grabbing the back of his head as I lean towards him. My lips brush his as I wrap one of my arms around his shoulders, hugging him.

— Please fuck me. Take me…” I whimper, pulling his lip towards me.

I scream loudly when in one quick movement, Billy thrusts himself inside me without an ounce of gentleness at the same time he bites one of my nipples hard. I should be disgusted by all this violence towards me, but I look more and more ready to explode.

I hate that. I love that.

I scream as the orgasm explodes, taking over my entire body and clouding all my senses. I hear nothing but a thin buzzing sound and see nothing other than the stars twinkling in my field of vision.

I whimpered as my orgasm-sensitive pussy contracted around him. Around your dick that seems to want to tear me in half. He fucks me so hard that I choke and I don't know where he starts or where I end.

— S-Stop... I can't take it anymore — I moan, scared by the desire that grew again in my stomach.

Billy's laugh makes my pussy throb and suck him in, like it's hungry and only he can finish it.

My body is turned sideways and one of Billy's hands is on the side of my head, while the other is holding me by the thigh, pulling me against his body. This position allows me to feel his cock from a different angle.

It feels deeper.

— I...I'm going to cum again — I cry. I'm so sensitive it hurts.

His hips don't stop and my breathing quickens.

— I-I'm going to... I'm going to pass out — I whisper with a broken voice as my legs shake.

But Billy ignores me, his hips speeding up and his thrusts becoming more animalistic. I cry, shaking my head as I flatten my hand on his broad chest through his sweatshirt.

— Even if you deny it, your body is mine, as is your heart. And no one else can have them, love.

Just when I think he's going to continue, his whole body goes rigid and he stops abruptly, spilling himself inside me. Hot jets fill me and it's impossible not to moan and whimper at the sensation.

— You have until tomorrow at 11:59 pm to stop acting like a spoiled brat and start believing in me again. — Speak, giving me a peck.

[moonffe]

i lovedddd my lips might've slipped!! please please please make a part 2

ofc. <3

my lips might've slipped

ethan landry pt2

pt1. pt3 warnings: making out, suggestive stuff, arguing, blood. word count: 7k

A/N: the writers block i got while writing this was almost the end of me... came up with a lot of one shot ideas though so I'll be posting those really soon.

“You left him… there.” Quinn repeated after you, looking bored out of her mind like this happened everyday.

“He was being an asshole, Q.”

“You always think he's being an asshole.“ She shook her head with distaste.

You weren't exactly known for being uncomfortable around people. Actually, it was the other way around. But you couldn't look at her as she ambled towards her closet. You felt embarrassed, tracing the rim of your coffee mug with your finger. “That's just how he acts, Y/N. You out of all people should know this.”

“He used to be different.”

This seemed to pique her interest. “In general or towards you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Both.”

“A lot of stuff has changed since we were kids.” She told you, leaving a bag with vials filled with fake blood next to you on the bed. You understood there was privacy in this apartment, but it was risky to leave this kind of stuff just laying there in her closet. How did she do it? “Richie's gone, dad's more distant than usual…”

Quinn bit her lower lip. You hated drawing all the attention to you when she was going through stuff, too.

“You don't need to—”

“It's fine.” She cut you off, her tone slightly aggressive. She cupped your face in her hands and leaned over you before you could stop her. You weren't self-conscious while being this close to her, Quinn was definitely the person you trusted the most. That's exactly why she noticed your lack of eye contact and was now forcing you to look at her. You didn't want to. You had so much shit bottled up you were scared you would start crying. You winced at the idea, stretching your arm to leave your mug on her night table.

“You're amazing, Y/N. I'm not just saying this because I'm your best friend. You really deserve the best out there, and If my asshole brother can't give you that, then move on.” You tried to retort, but her hand quickly slapped over your mouth. Jesus. “If you say you're not into him one more time, I'll jump out that damn window right now.” Her head nodded towards her bedroom's single window. You lured at her, but you could feel your heart hammering inside your ribcage. “You want him, and he wants you back. I'm not stupid and I know my brother— But if he keeps up with all the bullshit, then stop. I love him, but that doesn't make him a better person.”

Your eyes were starting to water, and hers were still fixated on yours. You licked her palm for the fuck of it. Quinn winced, retracting her hand from your face. “Did you have to do that?”

You wiped your damp eyelashes with the side of your wrist, a knot in your throat. “You weren't letting me go.” She snorted, your body barely swaying from her cleaning her palm on your shirt sleeve.

“Still. That ruined my entire speech.” Quinn had to press her lips together to not laugh. You were aware the situation was probably funny, but you couldn't muster a smile.

Her hand covered your mouth again, expression serious. “Understood?” She waited for you to say the words. You surrendered. The fuck else could you do? “Good.”

“I don't want him.” It's the first thing you said when you were able to speak again.

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself? I'll jump out the window, Y/N.”

You sighed, lifting your gaze from the floor to meet her eyes. “Thanks for telling me all that. I'm not sure it helped, but— I appreciate you caring about me and my… complicated relationships with individuals who do not own a uterus. You're a good friend.”

“Best friend.” She ruffled your hair before reclining on the bed, propping herself on her elbows. “Well, are you gonna tell me what happened between the two of you?”

She'd hate you. She'd beat the absolute shit out of you. Your eyes almost widened at the mere thought of telling her— Yeah, you weren't going through that. “Nice try. No.”

“Did you…” Her eyes narrowed, thoughtful. “Get drunk and kiss him?”

“No.”

She elevated her eyebrows. “Did you fuck him?”

“Fuck, Quinn!” Your face scrunched up, she laughed when you threw a pillow straight to her face. “No!”

“Okay, okay!” She glanced away before looking back at you. “Did you maintain sexual intercourse with my brother?”

You had to rub your temples to alleviate your embarrassment. “That made me want to kill myself.”

“So it's a yes.”

“It's a ‘I'm not talking to you for the rest of the night’.”

“You can't talk to the dead.” She reminded you, sighing as she sprawled out on the bed. You mirrored her, lying on your back and staring at the ceiling, fidgeting with the ring around your finger. You missed wearing some of your favorite jewelry, but times were different, and now you had to keep them hidden in your closet. They were gifts from a certain person…

“Go fuck yourself, respectfully.” You shut your eyes closed, a small smile playing on your lips as Quinn's hand slapped over your forehead. She felt up your face until reaching your cheek, your head tilting after she gave it a fake bitch slap.

“I did not take any offense in that.” You couldn't see her face, but the laziness in her voice was obvious.

You stared at the filled bathtub, feeling the weight of your eyelids. Time flew by while you and Quinn were asleep. You usually avoided naps, afraid you'd have that dream again. But this time you were so tired you didn't even think of him. Ethan's presence brought you back to the present. He sprayed fake blood into the water, then turned to you. "You ready?” You hated being this close to him.

“I guess.” You motioned for him to turn around while you took your clothes off and got in the bathtub. You kept your shirt in hand, using it to cover yourself. If you fucking catched him looking at you… “Ready.”

Ethan faced you, eyes briefly lingering downwards before he sighed. “Okay.” He hummed, a small wrinkle forming between his eyebrows as he knelt in front of you, focused on inspecting your torso. “This is gonna hurt.”

“We practiced this.” He nodded, still not looking into your eyes. You had to die. Well, not exactly. The plan was to get injured and just make it look like you almost died.

It would be too convenient if you escaped the apartment clean, and too hard to fake your death like Quinn was. So, since you were such a fucking masochist, you agreed to do this.

Your best friend wasn't as good with a knife like her brother was. He knew what he was doing well enough to not damage anything vital, and you were sure he wasn't evil enough to actually hurt you. "Bring it.”

Was he?

You squeezed his shoulder with all your strength as the blade of his knife found its place beneath your ribs. He pulled you closer, letting you bury your face in his neck. You weren't supposed to scream.

“I know. I know it hurts.” He whispered, fingers sliding through locks of your hair. He was trying to comfort you, anyone would in this situation, but the glare you showed him made the look on his face change. He let go of you. “Have it your way, sweetheart.”

You frowned at the pet name. “I'm bleeding. Do you mind?”

“I stayed on the side and didn't go too deep, Y/N. You're not gonna bleed out.” He spat, applying fake blood to your leg. His hand ran over your skin to disperse it over your shin. He had an attitude, you could see it on his face, but he was still being careful.

“And? It still hurts.” You said, trying to hide how damn flustered you were actually getting.

Your hand remained hardly grasping your shirt, trying to keep it in place. Ethan's eyes met yours after you flinched at the cold blood. He looked away, but his gaze returned to your hands after a while. You didn't like it. “What?”

“You’re shaking.” He mentioned. Discreetly, you checked. Your fingers trembled around your shirt, but he shook his head before you could retaliate. “I'm not looking.” His voice was soft, but your personality wasn't.

“You are, though.” And he probably was. Why the hell would he mention it, then?

He gave you a look, but continued with his work. You were trying to relax, you really were, but his touch was making you feel things. The fabric of his gloves touching you with so much gentleness like you were made of porcelain. It was actions that mattered, not words. His thumb traced up your arm, softly pressing on your shoulder. His eyebrows furrowed. “Did you get that mole removed?”

“Ethan.” You grumbled.

He sat back, looking distraught for a second before he made up his mind and met your gaze. “Was it for that guy?” He asked. You could only close your eyes, trying not to snap. “I'm dead serious, Y/N. I want to know.”

You weren't supposed to talk about anything that could or couldn't have happened in the past. And specifically, of how he could know about that mole. “What guy?”

“Johnny.” He choked out. “Your asshole ex.”

You opened your eyes and realized he was, in fact, being serious. His demeanor solemn as he stared, waiting for you to answer him like you didn't have a fucking agreement. “Surprised you remember him.”

“I remember when it comes to you.” His words made your cheeks heat up, though you weren't sure if it was out of surprise or embarrassment.

“What does he have to do with any of this?”

“Did you get it removed for him?” He looked at your shoulder, a vein throbbing on his jaw. “I liked that mole.”

“I don't know, was Tate dressing up for you at the Halloween party?”

He almost looked like he wanted to deny it, but couldn't bring himself up to the task. “Do you care?”

“It's the second time you ask me that.” You paused, and decided to shoot him back. “When it comes to you, I care.”

“Is it bad that I like the sound of that?” He asked, his voice husky. It made your breath hitch.

“Just answer the question.”

“I don't know— Maybe? I didn't ask her to.”

“That's kinda obvious.” It was. But you still wanted to know if it was fucking intentional. “It would be weird.”

“What? Ask my girlfriend to dress up for me?” He chuckled, his amusement tinged with sarcasm. “It would be plain abusive.”

Girlfriend. Your jaw clenched, you couldn't keep living like this. Why did it hurt so much? Why did it hurt so much to know he did exactly what you asked him to? He got over you, and you were still the same idiot that drooled over him every time he was nice to you. You hated him.

“You know who'd do that?”

Ethan noticed the change of tone in your voice, so he just hummed in response, wanting to avoid an argument. But by that moment, it was your only way of protecting yourself. Of trying to take your heart away from his reach. “Your dad.”

“You always say that.” You noticed how much you got to him by how forcefully he put the vial down. He leaned in, fingers threading through your hair to make it look like you fought back.

“Am I wrong?”

“No.” He paused, his voice wavering. He was struggling to maintain his composure, and you were enjoying it. “But he's my father, and I'm nothing like that man. It's offensive.”

“Nothing like him?” You raised an eyebrow, challenging him. He met your gaze with conviction, looking like he was about to snap at you.

“Nothing like him.”

“I thought you helped him kill your mom.”

“It's different.” He assured you, a flicker of pain crossing his features. You weren't falling for that shit.

“But you have a relationship with him.”

“Not the relationship I'd like.”

Your teeth caught your lower lip as he got busy again. He applied blood on his gloves for realism, rubbing his palms together to spread it over the black fabric. It wasn't hard for you to notice the missing item, since you were pretty much devouring him with your eyes.

You were unaware that you voiced your thoughts out loud until his eyes focused on you. You felt your heart drop to your stomach.

“What?” He inquired, confused.

“Tate's hair tie.”

He just stared at you for a while, lowering his head ever so slightly. “Right.” You frowned.

“Did you guys get into an argument or something?” You were sure the answer was no, but him exhaling took you by surprise.

“It's stupid.”

“What did you do?”

“We were kissing and… I don't know, I was drunk. Mixed things up and called her by your name.”

His confession made your face fall. “Is that supposed to be romantic? Because it doesn't fucking feel like it.”

“She said no strings attached.” He glowered at you.

“Then why did you take it off?”

“Because she was mad.” He bit his lower lip, playing with the lace of his left boot to avoid looking at you. “I never— I never felt something for her, Y/N. But I think she started falling in love with me.”

No, no, no, no— You weren't sitting through that shit. Your best friend was one wall away, if you could just… “Quinn!” You shouted, but his bloody glove clamped over your mouth. When the fuck did he get that close to you?

“No, listen.” He groaned. ”You can't just always push me away.”

You moved your head to the side to push his hand away. His nose only inches away from touching yours. He was breathing heavily, and you were ashamed to admit it was making you nervous, he was making you nervous. “I don't wanna hear it, Ethan.”

“Can you give me one chance?” He begged, his hands moved to the wall, pinning you against it. “Just one fucking chance to talk?”

You started feeling dizzy while his eyes were on yours, and you realized you forgot to breathe. How to breathe. Fuck, you were weak. “Go on.” You wheezed.

“Thank you, I—” He swallowed. “I never felt something for her. I never felt… anything since we broke up. That's why I was using Tate. Because I was trying to feel something, I was trying to feel alive again—”

“So you just used her?” You cut him off, you were gripping your shirt against your bare body for dear life. “Like she was disposable.”

“I never thought you out of all people would care about that.” You rolled your eyes. He grabbed your chin to stop you from looking away from him. “We said no strings attached, Y/N. It couldn't even be called a relationship— It wasn't one. We would just make out and I would go as her date at parties.”

“You still looked pretty damn close.” You huffed, jealousy clouding your senses. “I don't wanna know about how you switched saliva with that bitch—”

“You just asked me to tell you!” He protested, your hand slapping over his mouth. You stayed silent, trying to get a clue on what was going on outside. It was very faint, but you could hear the group still yapping and laughing.

“If they hear you, it's over.” You grimaced.

“I'm sorry.” He coed.

“It's fine…” A low sigh escaped your lips, the soft fabric of his cloak between your fingers as you absentmindedly adjusted the hood.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you asked me.”

“But you never told me anything before.” You paused, locking eyes with him. His big, earnest brown eyes that held rare vulnerability. You wanted to kiss him. “Why is it different this time?”

His fingers traveled up your arms, cradling your wrists tenderly as they were still pressed against his neck. “You know why.” He murmured, a tinge of pain underlying his words, causing your guts to twist and turn inside of you. Then you realized maybe they actually were. You still had a cut on your side.

“We're not good for each other.”

Ethan grimaced, shaking his head. “You keep saying that, but you're the only person I've felt something for—”

“Do you want me or need me, Ethan?” You interrupted him, he looked confused for a second. “Because they're two different things. And if you need me, it's not love.”

“I need you because I want you.” His face held a sense of urgency. What did he want you to say?

“What do you think is going to happen? If the same thing from last time repeats itself—”

“We'll get through it.” He nodded his head, his features shifting to show a crazed, desperate glimmer in his eyes that made him look out of his mind. “I want a future with you. I want you. Just you. Please, just— just think about it, alright? Please, let me… just let me…”

His plea hung in the air when you pressed your mouth on his. He groaned, his soft lips easily returning the kiss. The two of you grinned when he lost balance and you had to hold his shoulders, keeping him in place. He was still on his knees, after all.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, gliding and rubbing over yours. Your fingers tangled between his messy curls, fingertips fondling his scalp and making him kiss you even more eagerly. It was slow, but you could tell he had been wanting to do that for a long time. Ethan let out a sound, and you questioned if it was a sob or he was just really enjoying himself. Did he really miss you that much? To cry the second you kissed him? His muscular arms snaked around your body, the softness of his cloak against your bare, cold skin feeling like heaven on earth to you.

He was holding you like you would disappear if he let go, and maybe he was right. Ethan was addictive. He was like a drug you couldn't get enough of, and you were just wondering what would happen when he walked out that door and you found yourself alone, feeling guilty for falling into temptation.

“You're ready.” His lips were wet and he was breathing hard when he pressed his forehead against your own. You gave a small hum to acknowledge his words. “Remember the plan?”

You hummed again. “I need to leave you now.”

“Alright.” You finally opened your eyes, a little too bewitched by the boy in front of you for your brain to have any logical structure. His minty breath hit your lips as he leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips you gladly reciprocated.

He stood up straight and grabbed the empty vials from the floor while you recollected your thoughts, a nauseous sensation sweeping over your stomach at the thoughts your brain was, for some reason, forming.

What if something happened to him? “If they hurt you, I'll slit their fucking throat.”

Ethan bit his lip to hold back a smile, his knee bumping against your calf. “Didn't consider you a romantic.” He stared down at you, his grin was contagious.

“I prefer the term psychotic, but thanks anyway.”

His gloved hand affectionately ruffled your hair, sliding down to your cheek as his lips pressed a kiss on it. “Try not to move too much, alright? I promise I'll make you dinner after this is over.”

You snorted, your hands finding place in his lightly muscular chest as you pulled him down to your height. He finally gave in, revealing a set of white, straight teeth as he smiled. “You're gonna burn the house down.”

You had a lot of memories of sixteen year old Ethan trying to cook, he was a fire hazard near a stove.

“We'll order takeout, then." He said in a low tone, giving your forehead one last kiss. Then your temple, then your lips. “It's a promise.” You watched him rise from the floor and leave, chewing on your lip as you heard the faint voices of him and his sister arguing about something.

Quinn was bloody and ready, they just had to start making noise to catch the group’s attention. Your breathing slowly increased in pace as the realization of what just happened started hitting you. You shouldn't have kissed him, you shouldn't have let him kiss you, you practically just told him yes—

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. You threw your shirt aside and groaned in pain. You definitely couldn't move much with a wound that big. Successfully grabbing your phone from the floor, you saw Quinn's text.

Took him a while to leave. Everything alright?

Not really.

Your finger tapped on the side of your phone impatiently. Come on. Come on, come on, come on— you sighed when she started typing.

Did he try something?

We kissed.

Was it consensual?

Yes. That's why i feel so fucking shitty. I shouldn't have.

We'll talk about this later alright? I need to get out there.

Okay.

You laid back on the bathtub and your face scrunched up. Fuck, it was hurting you. Was it pathetic that you couldn't even feel the pain before because you were busy worrying about Ethan? It probably was. He was still in your mind, he had been since you were seventeen.

There was a reason why you broke up, a reason why you tried to avoid him all these months. Guess you can't fall out of love with someone this fast, you had no idea why you thought you could achieve that. It was Ethan Kirsch we were talking about. That made it even harder.

Your eyes couldn't stare at the white ceiling for much longer, you were starting to blink a lot and you somehow feeling yourself losing blood. You didn't know if that was possible, or you were starting to hallucinate. Only thing you knew for sure, is you were dizzy as fuck. There were screams and thuds resonating through the thin walls of the apartment, the sounds of footsteps and running.

You weren't sure of how much time passed since Ethan left, but the voices and slams on the door became closer, a lot louder. Your eyes were starting to open again at the closeness of the noises. Someone called your name. Screamed your name, actually. It wasn't hard for you to recognize Mindy's voice. You blinked, trying to adjust to the lighting of the bathroom as Chad's sister noticed the crimson water in the bathtub, panting.

“Fuck, you gotta come with us!” Her eyes drifted somewhere else and yours followed. Sam was holding the door to the living room, with your ex-boyfriend relentlessly pounding on it. She looked horrified.

“Help her put something on. Fast!” She commanded, Mindy nodded and attempted to help you out of the water, but you kept shaking your head and pushing her arms away.

“I can't walk, I can't walk, I can't walk…”

“You're gonna die if you stay here!” Sam yelled.

Mindy choked out a breath, grabbing your pile of clothes from the floor. “I'm sorry about Quinn, but you need to come with us!”

“I can't— I won't. He thinks I'm dead.”

“With all the screaming, no, he doesn't anymore!” Sam ran towards you, hugging your shoulders to pull you out of the water. Mindy's eyes were wide and her hand was clutching at the wound on her arm after leaving you to put your underwear and shirt back on. Ethan was banging on the door harder every time, and Sam was starting to get impatient.

You rushed into Quinn's room and your jaw flew open at the sight of Anika bleeding that much. What did Ethan do to her?

The door creaked as it broke. Sam dashed into Quinn's room, and she and Mindy barricaded it with a closet. Your gaze shifted to Sam's boyfriend, staring at you and Anika bleeding out from the other window. Billy's daughter was looking for a way out, and you weren't exactly sure of what was happening while you stared at the door, wondering how much it would take Ethan to break it like the past one. Anika was whimpering, your arm wrapping around her absentmindedly.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sam panted, catching your attention. Ethan was taking too long… And Danny was using a… ladder. To help you cross. What the fuck? “You three go first!” Sam turned to you. You glanced at Mindy, who looked offended.

“Someone needs to hold the door, Sam! Anika and Y/N are losing blood!” She shouted. “Go!”

“Shit…” Sam gave you a look before going first. Mindy was still holding the door, and Anika clutched her stomach, trying to contain as much blood as possible. You started blinking, feeling cold sweat run down your temples. You laid back on the bed, knowing you had to stay conscious for this to work. Mindy wasn't getting away from the door…

“I'll hold it.” You offered, stumbling with your own feet as you got up.

“You're practically dying, I'm not leaving you to do this!” She scowled, but you ignored her words and still stood next to her, pushing the closet onto the door.

“So now you're being nice to me?” You bit the inside of your cheek, because you knew this was probably the last time you'd see her.

“I was wrong.” She choked out, giving you a nod. No, she wasn't. Sam yelled for someone to go next. You and Mindy looked at Anika. She was the closest to passing out.

You started falling asleep before waking up again, you had to wait for Anika to get a little closer to Danny's window… when your eyes opened, you realized you fell asleep for another second. Shit. You glanced back, seeing Ethan's arm fully in the room and swinging his knife through the small opening of the door. You glared at Mindy. If she pushed back one more time, she was going to fucking hurt him.

You faked passing out, collapsing sideways to push her down onto the floor. Ethan kicked the door open after you landed on top of Mindy. She struggled to push you from on top of her, but she managed to... without enough time to get to the window. Sam and Anika's screams echoed as Ethan's hands closed around Mindy's neck, choking her right beside you.

You opened your eyes, seeing hers widen. Mindy's lips parted as if to yell something, but Ethan slammed her down on the floor, pressing harder on her neck until she gradually stopped fighting back. Her arms fell limp, and you glanced up at him. Anika was next.

You were faking being passed out, so you didn't really know what was going on until a loud thud reached your ears. Holy shit. Did she fall?

You stayed still, listening to Ethan's footsteps with your eyes closed. He knelt down beside you, you caught your lower lip between your teeth.

"Good girl." He praised, caressing your cheek with two of his gloved fingers. He forgot to turn off his voice changer.

“Do you think they're going at it?” Ethan's head turned to look at you, arms folded across his stomach. His chest rose and fell softly with each breath, the Christmas lights that took you half an hour to untangle and install in Quinn's car hitting his face directly.

You knew he was cold— you could tell. But he wasn't saying it out loud. You felt guilty. He told you to bring thicker blankets, but you completely forgot with how much your best friend kept rambling about her new boyfriend while you packed for your road trip.

Your forehead wrinkled as you munched on a Skittle, nodding emphatically “Is that even a question? Definitely.”

Ethan reached for a handful of candy from the bowl in your hands, propping himself on an elbow. “You think? I thought they only came here because he wanted to know the woods.”

You rolled your eyes, his expression curious as he chewed. “You know Quinn.”

“But I don't know the guy.”

“He's probably a jock who just wants sex, Eth. They all are. and Quinn is…” You squinted, searching for words. “Quinn.”

“Don't call her that.” He protested, pausing mid-movement to glare at you.

“Don't look at me like that.” You retorted, bringing the bowl to your chest to protect it from him. Ethan stared at you through his long eyelashes, apathetic. You let out a groan when he reached out to grab something behind you, his chest inadvertently ending up above your legs. “Personal space, mister.”

“I just want my water…” He grumbled under his breath, the two of you sharing a menacing look after he sat up straight again.

“She's my best friend. I know her more than you do.”

“Is that so?” He twisted the cap open, challenging you. “How?”

“You're like… okay, let's put it this way. You're family.” The way he rolled his eyes made you crack a smile. He looked adorable with his tousled, curly hair imprinted by the pillow. The two of you had woken up from a two-hour nap just about ten minutes ago, and you were a sucker for freshly awake, moody Ethan. “Would she tell your dad what she did last night with a guy she found at a party? No. You're the younger sibling, it's the same principle.”

“She tells me things.” He sounded almost offended, suddenly forgetting he was about to take a sip of his water.

“Yeah, PG-rated things.”

“I'm eighteen.”

“And? Wait til you're 21 to brag about your age.”

He shook his head slightly, wiping his mouth with his wrist. “You're not even 21 yet.”

“Do you see me flexing about my age? No.”

Ethan let out a sigh, probably tired of your shit already and grabbed his pillow, laying his head down on it again. You felt your face fall as your features softened. Maybe you were a little too harsh on him. You stared, because he was probably the most beautiful guy you'd met. The dark circles under his eyes were noticeable, pale skin almost translucent.

He was worried, and him being worried made you worried, so… that was inconvenient. Richie left Modesto with Sam the day before, and while you trusted him to man the fuck up and make things go as planned, Ethan didn't.

“He's gonna be alright, Eth.” You reassured him.

“Why did we come here?” He mumbled, your heart twinging at his small sniff of him. You should've brought the extra blankets…

You delicately caressed his cheek, his eyes surrendering to your apologetic touch. You felt more confident in fondling his skin and feeling the warmth beneath your fingertips. If you could just… Your thumb brushed over his lower lip before you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his soft forehead.

“Quinn's supposed to be with me, so I can't be home or your dad will suspect she lied. And as for you…” You paused, and Ethan's lips began to twitch into a wide smile, eliciting a chuckle from you. “Consider it a favor, you never go out.”

“Oh, yeah?” He teased, his eyes lazily opening. “That's sweet.”

“Never sweeter than you, baby girl.” You caressed his lower lip, his eyes rolling as he pushed your hand away. “You're mean to me.” You showed him a pout, and he just shook his head.

“Deal with it.”

You tugged at his blanket to discover part of his chest, getting a frown you completely ignored when you turned around, showing him your back. Quinn was a few cars away from you, but far enough so you couldn't hear or know what was going in there.

You almost winced. Not like you wanted to know. Apparently this was a popular place for people to come and hook up. You were just closing your eyes and hoping you wouldn't hear anything. Even finding a racoon would probably be better than that shit.

"It would probably be uncomfortable." Ethan mused after a while, and you got on your side to frown at him.

"Are we still discussing this?" Your smile immediately faded at his raised eyebrows. "Uhm— It's cold, they'd freeze."

"Not big enough to move."

"What if a fox saw the lights and started scratching the door in the middle of it?" Ethan frowned before the two of you chuckled. At least you were making him laugh now. You were a bad friend.

"If there's not a blanket under them, it'll hurt their backs." You didn't give it much thought before nodding in agreement, eyes slowly drifting downwards to look at the blanket beneath the two of you. The idea that popped up in your head scared you. He was telling you this because… Lifting your chin again, Ethan's gaze met yours, and next thing you knew, he leaned in, kissing you.

You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, your hands finding his hair and playing with it while he stretched his arm to grab his pillow. His arms wrapped around your waist to have support of your body and lay your head on the pillow, your back pressing against the fuzzy blanket. His thighs straddled your legs. “Is this okay?” He breathed out, looking down at you, but he didn't seem to have any intention of stopping.

You answered by firmly pressing your lips onto his again. Ethan grunted into the kiss, returning it like his life depended on it. His body was so soft and comfortable against yours, you barely felt any pain when he grabbed both your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand, but it was still uncomfortable. “Eth, my hair…” He stopped, noticing his arms pressing down on your hair.

“Shit, I'm sorry.” He quickly apologized, eyes darting from your lips to your eyes. “Are you alright?”

“I'll be if you keep going.” He nodded, obeying. Your thoughts weren't the clearest thing at the moment. You wanted this so much and you had been wanting it for a long time, the feeling was similar to being high. Even better. This was it. You had him. He had you. You lost yourself in all the caressing, mind clouding with the feeling of him, the touch of his fingertips on your neck and his big hand wrapping around your susceptible throat as he kissed you.

His body weight on yours was taking the air out of your lungs, but the feeling of being helpless only helped increase the violent hammering of your heart inside your ribcage. You adored him. Every single inch of him. You were panting, the heat all the pillows and blankets around the two of you were providing making you sweat badly.

You helped him pull his black hoodie over his head, his bare arms squeezing you against him immediately after. "I'll take care of you, okay? Just relax." He kissed the corner of your mouth, lips trailing down to press gentle kisses onto your neck. You threw your head back, Quinn's pink knit sweater just lying there in the driver's seat, making your mouth go dry.

Why did she leave it there? As a reminder? A reminder that the two of you shouldn't be doing anything weird because you were just friends? Because the person who was kissing your neck right now was your best friend's younger brother? No, you were just being paranoid. That was straight up fucking schizophrenic.

"You're not letting me lay you down." He uttered in a low, guttural tone. You glared at his words.

"Because I'm comfortable like this."

"With your elbows flexing like that?" He withdrew his mouth from your neck, staring up at you, out of breath. "Really?"

"Are you mad at me right now?" You inquired. Ethan looked away before starting to get up. "Can you please not—"

"No."

"What did I do!?"

"Nothing," he snarled. You sighed as he offered his hands to help you up. Taking them, you brought your legs to your chest awkwardly. It was clear he wanted answers with how he stared at you, and he knew you too well to lie to him. "What's wrong?"

"It doesn't... feel right." You choked out, glaring up at his face, and wishing he would understand. Ethan looked taken aback but quickly recovered.

"This doesn't feel right?"

"Yeah."

"Is it because of me?" He asked, and the look you gave him was offended.

"No, of course not. But you're Quinn's—"

"Brother, yeah. She doesn't care." His eyes narrowed. Was he fucking mocking you right now?

"How do you know?"

"It's Quinn."

"Don't be saying that about my best friend.”

Ethan's jaw clenched, it took him a moment to collect himself before he looked away from your face, exhaling the breath he was holding. “Alright.”

“Alright.” You agreed.

The two of you fell silent, focusing anywhere else that wasn't each other. Ethan fidgeted with the blanket, eyes on your phone laying next to the candy bowl. You stared at the rings wrapped around your fingers, chewing on your lip. You had to get up— you knew that. One of the two of you would eventually have to.

This was the smartest decision, and yet you felt empty. Like you had just closed the door that led to the single thing you had dreamt about for years but weren't able to get. It was alright, you tried to tell yourself. You had a friendship to keep. A great one.

Ethan knew the good and bad parts of you. He had seen you at your lowest, and he still stayed. Why? Because he was your friend. Your best friend. The one boy you had shared everything with. But if that was true, then why was there a difference in what you felt toward Richie and Ethan? Richie was your friend, and Ethan was... something more.

Your chest caved and squeezed your heart as you sighed. The little sound caught the brunet’s attention, prompting you to look up at his zealous face too. It took two seconds of eye contact for the two of you to start making out. Again. You rolled on the blanket a few times, almost dislodging the Christmas lights with how much the two of you were moving. You were on top when Ethan pushed your shoulders, his face scrunched up.

“This is wrong.”

You breathed heavily, confused. “What? Why?”

“I should be taking you to a hotel.” His grip on your shirt tightened, but he looked more mad at himself than at you as he tried to catch his breath. “For starters.”

“Oh my god, Ethan! Why would you—”

“Listen to me.” He demanded. His hands slid from your waist to your cheek, cupping your face in his hands. “We don't even have—”

“I'm on the pill.” You spoke over him. He paused, but he didn't look phased at all.

“That's only 87% effective.” Ethan's lips twitched, displeased, confusing you.

“How do you know that?”

He shook his head, delicately tucking away strands of your hair. “I wanted to be informed when this happened.”

“You were waiting for this to happen!?” The red creeping up to his face made you know you probably came off more panicked than you intended to. Shit.

“Weren't you?” He tried to play it off miserably. You moved away from on top of him, looking around for your missing shirt desperately.

“No. I was just praying every day it wouldn't.”

“Does that mean you—” He hesitated as he swallowed, sitting up. His eyes never left your face, looking vulnerable. Those angel eyes looked so fucking vulnerable you just wanted to hug him. But wasn't this an argument? You had to make up your mind. You found your shirt, but you didn't even care anymore. “Is this a one night stand? I mean— Are we doing this just because we feel like It, or is this your way to say you love me back?”

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. Fuck, no… “Put your hoodie on.” You groaned, and Ethan looked away from you frustratedly

The only reason you weren't answering him was because you were scared. This wasn't supposed to happen, at least not that soon…

“I do love you, Ethan.” The words just slipped out of your lips, surprising both of you. He raised his head, making sure you weren't joking. “And I don't want to break your heart.”

“You will if we keep living like this.” He admitted. “What's stopping you?”

You tried to not look down, you really did, but you were too much of a coward to not start playing with your rings. “Honestly? It's too messy. I don't want things to get weird with Quinn—”

“She doesn't care, Y/N.” He interjected, and you closed your eyes in frustration. That's what he always said, but you couldn't know for sure. You didn't want to find out. “If anything, I think she would be happy you chose someone she approves of.”

“I'm gonna fuck up my relationship with Quinn if this goes wrong…” You rubbed your temples, but looked up at the silence coming from him. He looked tense, like he was about to burst out the car and murder the first person he saw. You moved away slightly, contemplating.

You'd go to hell if you admitted out loud you found that attitude of his… enticing. He let out a breath when he saw you crawling towards him. His arms snaked around you, holding you close and lifting you slightly to move you onto his lap. “Don't be mad.”

“I'm not.” He crooned, you winced slightly as his nose pressed into the curve of your bare neck, next to your bra strap. He took in a deep breath.

“Sure.” You gripped the back of his black tank top, trying to relax. “You'll be wrinkled all over by the time you're 40 if you keep frowning.”

“I'm not mad at you, Y/N.” He repeated, he looked honest as his watery eyes met yours. Why did he look like he wanted to cry?

“And that's it?” You questioned. “I'm supposed to calm down because you told me it'd be okay?”

“Am I lying? Quinn's gonna be happy for us, I know that. But if you don't feel ready… then we can hide it.” He nodded solemnly, you raised an eyebrow.

“So, what? Am I like your lover now?”

“No.” He cringed, you let out a chuckle as he stopped caressing you. “That's not what I meant— We can just stay low for now. Not tell anyone about us.”

He waited, and after a moment of pondering, you sighed. You just had to look for the right moment to tell Quinn. You'd be more prepared by then. “Okay.”

Ethan's lips parted, curls wiggling as he nodded. You didn't know why he was like this, but you had to calm him down. You always had to. Ethan was aggressive, that was obvious. But he also used to be so sensitive.

“It's alright, Eth. It's alright…” You grabbed his face, staring at his big expressive eyes before pressing your mouth on his tenderly. Ethan muttered a "thank you" before slowly burying his face into your neck again. You felt his soft eyelashes against your skin as he closed his eyes, arms squeezing your waist.

[cozzzynook]

The Lost Light responds to Rodimus emotions. If Rodimus is ever missing the ship can always find him. If Rodimus doesn't want to see someone the ship will block them.

It starts off with Rodimus not wanting to see anyone.

Its when he wants to be alone because he’s overwhelmed and his spark is aching.

The ship leads First aid to him but no one else.

Neither of them even knew the ship had a series of corridors like this, they weren’t in the ships schematics and so Rodimus saved that for later knowledge but when he came back to search for it it was gone.

The next time he wants to be alone is to speak with his carrier Perceptor and show him the image of his grand sparkling. Little bucket helm with red optics and kicking pedes that are aimless. Small spoiler bouncing against their sires servo that holds them. Rodimus hated when his conjunx did that but he couldn’t deny it was cute as much as it worried him. He mentioned in that moment wanting a safer way to bring him to his sparkling so they could see each other in person again and before they knew it the hidden door to his sparklings room was revealed.

It was then he figured the ship was alive, sentient in a way. He vaguely mentioned to Drift if he thought the ship to be sentient. When Drift said it wasn’t possible Rodimus nodded along but waited until he was alone in his sparklings room with his conjunx to say, “thank you.”

His conjunx raised an optic ridge but when the rook got warmer before cooling down again his conjunx didn’t look so confused. In fact he looked shocked. He felt a little smug but then he had a moment of seriousness.

“Whatever happens, even if you have to let me die, protect my sparkling. Get them to safety. Please. You can do whatever else you want. Just keep them safe and alive.”

For a long time after that the ship didn’t show any signs of life to Rodimus, Megatron or let its subtle presence be felt throughout the ship. It no longer created mildly elaborate passages that once made the crew believe it was ever changing.

Rodimus didn’t want to hurt the ship with his request but he did mean it.

His sparkling was the most important to him along with his conjunx and carrier. But they could defend themselves, his sparkling couldn’t.

He waited to be alone with his sparkling, bouncing them as they fell asleep drinking from his nozzle. To look up and apologize.

“I’m sorry I hurt you, but I do mean it. My sparkling..my bitty, I can’t..I couldn’t live if they didn’t. I don’t mean to hurt you but I need them to be okay.,” he muttered the last part, digit brushing along his sparklings forehelm, “ i hope you understand.”

He felt guilt but he still felt conviction.

He wasn’t changing his decision but he didn’t want to hurt another bots feelings.

The ship was warm not long after and everything seemed to go back to normal.

Everything was fine until they set foot on what they believed to be a deserted planet.

Rodimus was nervous the moment they landed which made him suspicious and decide to exceed with caution. The crew noticed and Rodimus kept the exploration crew small with himself, Drift, Magnus and Brainstorm.

His conjunx wanted to be the one to go but he told him it was fine. His conjunx was a gentlemech at spark even when Rodimus hated it. His spark went on the last dangerous mission they didn’t need to go on this one too.

His small team began a basic cover and search of an area when he felt something was wrong half way through.

He alerted his crew to be on guard and that something felt off.

He remembers transforming and looking around seeing nothing and feeling more unease. He commed his team saying they would head back. He was mid transformation when he felt electricity shock him into recharge.

He onlined in a damp, dark cave covered in a sticky substance that kept him trapped. He felt disgust all over before the panic set in and he was fighting to get out of the gross prison.

It was until he heard a heavy clank did he stop moving and pretended to be offline only to have his helm yanked up meeting crazed optics.

He didn’t know who the bot was but he hated the way he looked at him.

He tried comming the others and when that didn’t work he sent a spark signal to his conjunx who immediately responded.

He felt dread filling his energon lines when the mech inhaled his scent at his neck cables moving down to sniff at his chassis before settling dilated optics on his tanks.

He shook as hard as he could in the confines but it wasn’t enough to break free.

He could do no more than move his helm slightly away from the mech that tried to nuzzle into his scent releasers.

He took a deep vent, thinking of his sparkling, he used them as a grounding tool. Igniting his fingers just right until they were hot enough to burn the gooey substance. He slowly began setting his frame to the same heightened temperature as fingers, processor trying to reach his team but still getting no luck—most likely the cave and substance trapping him or the mech in front of him— he felt his outlier singing to him and he waited until the mech was sniffing his neck cables again.

The moment the mech buried his olfactory sensor in and set his servos on the sides of his chassis he burst into flames greater than necessary.

The goo melted to nothing and the mech caught fire, screaming as he held onto his melting optics while Rodimus made a dash for the exit.

He transformed speeding as far away as he could only to come to a harsh stop when he sped up a ramp and skidded to a stop in his own ship.

He transformed into root mode venting heavy where Ratchet immediately began working on him and performing scans.

A few hours later, after removing the goo and assuring Drift and the crew he was fine right after, he darted off towards the corridor that led to his actual hab that was connected to his sparklings room.

His conjunx was holding their sparkling out for him to hold and he held his bitty close in his arms as his conjunx lifted him into a strong tight embrace that made him wiggle a little to vent better.

He inhaled the scent of his sparkling that was cooing at him and patting his face plates completely oblivious much to his happiness.

He heard his hab door open and smiled knowing it was his carrier.

Perceptor gripped him in a tight hug and explained how the ship locked onto his signature a nano click after his conjunx was able to.

“Thank you,” he sobbed, finally reveling in the danger he was in and what the mech may have wanted from him.

“Thank you.”

He stayed in his hab with his conjunx, sparkling and carrier.

He didn’t want to see anyone else right now and he didn’t want anyone seeing him crying or the existence of his sparkling or to know who his conjunx was. Mechs and femmes aboard had an idea that Perceptor was his carrier but neither confirmed it. Only Brainstorm knew and the mech refused to share such information always ready to respect Perceptors wishes.

“Scent me again?”

He was met with large servos rubbing at the sides of his exposed waist, dipping digits into chub that was so hard to get rid of.

“Beautiful,” his conjunx whispered into the flesh of his belly kissing it.

“I said scent me, Megs, not get me sparked again.”

His frown was half serious and half playful. The larger mech on top of him smirked and nipped at his belly making it jiggle. He felt insecure about it, still not used to his post sparkling frame but his mech loved it.

“And if I were to do both?”

“You’d be crazy,” Rodimus laughed, carefully shifting their sparkling so they could fuel easier.

Megatron lifted himself to place a kiss on their son’s helm and gazed at him fondly.

“Would it be so bad to have another?”

He understood the weight behind his question and he wanted to say no, it wouldn’t. He wanted to agree and give this mech and himself another but he knew it was too risky.

“Not until we find the knights and go home,” Rodimus smoothed his servo against his conjunx helm. “Then we can have another sparkling,” he smiled.

“But I’m losing the weight first,” Rodimus poked him.

“Thats up for debate.”

“Its my frame!”

“Our frame, darling. Conjunx ritus,” Megatron smirked holding up the helm jewelry Rodimus only wore in their hab. It was the physical symbol of their union that many mechs and femmes would wear to show them claimed in certain cultures. Nyonians would wear helm dress and miners would wear the shedded frame pieces of their mates as neck wear.

Currently Megatrom was wearing his and now Rodimus was wearing his helm dress as well.

“I can’t wait to go home so we can fashion silks for him,” Rodimus smiled tickling their sparklings belly.

Fuzzy red optics looked to them with a smile and Megatron couldn’t resist lightly nipping chubby protoform thighs.

“And neither can I,” the proud sire chuckled.

The room grew warm again and Rodimus looked up at the ships ceiling and smiled, “thank you for finding me. I hope you get whatever it is you desire,” Rodimus smiled.

The entire crew felt a warmth buzz within them and around them, it boosted not only morale but every bots mood for the evening and later as it reached the dead shift, Rodimus saw holo glow of a ship mech standing beside the mountains of Crystal city. He recognized that place.

It was a spot where ship and large mechs and femmes built to house cybertronians on missions or to live in would meet to rejoin their families.

He committed the sight to file and smiled up at the ship while holding his sleeping bitty.

“I’ll take you there when we finish,” he promised, feeling a ghost of a hand rub his helm affectionately, “I promise.”

[inneedofsupervision]

I didn't ask, did I? (Chapter 1)

Happy begrudgingly steps aside and walks after Tony into the diner. The billionaire skillfully ignores the gasps of surprise and the poor attempt to take pictures of him secretly as he strides straight up to the counter. "Two cheeseburgers and a large fry. To go." "Please get in line and wait for your turn, Sir." "Excuse me?" Tony slowly pulls his sunglasses down and glances at the skinny teen behind the register. "Bad hearing comes with age, huh?" mutters the teen under his breath. Happy makes a choking sound behind him. ___________________ Or, how Tony Stark gets sassed by some high schooler working part-time and makes it his mission to figure out what he did to make this kid he'd never seen hate him. If that means annoying the hell out of said high schooler, that's not his problem.

Chapter 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Read on Ao3

"Happy, pull over at Bill's. As long as Pepper's on that business trip, I  take the chance and get my cholesterol unhealthy high, even if that's the last thing I do today."

Tony pointedly ignores the judgmental gaze in the rear mirror. After today, he needs that cheeseburger or the next person talking to him on an empty stomach gets fired. The car door opens and Happy looms over him, blocking his way. 

"What should I get you?"

"Don't bother, I'm getting it myself." 

His driver doesn't budge, staring down at him with his arms crossed over his chest. Tony raises an eyebrow.

 "I'm not going to harass anyone. Stop looking at me like I'm a second away from suing someone for breathing in my direction."

Happy looks ready to close the door right in Tony's face.

"You sued people for lesser things."

Tony snorts, but his lips pull down quickly as the man before him still wears a scowl. He rolls his eyes.

"Good god, let me have a bad day for once, alright?"

"I would, only if your bad days wouldn't end up giving a bad day to everyone in your close vicinity."

"You make me sound like an asshole."

"You are an asshole, Tony."

"Geez, thanks, I love you too. Now move so I can get something to eat."

Happy begrudgingly steps aside and walks after Tony into the diner. The billionaire skillfully ignores the gasps of surprise and the poor attempt to take pictures of him secretly as he strides straight up to the counter. 

"Two cheeseburgers and a large fry. To go."

"Please get in line and wait for your turn, Sir."

"Excuse me?"

Tony slowly pulls his sunglasses down and glances at the skinny teen behind the register. 

"Bad hearing comes with age, huh?" mutters the teen under his breath. 

Happy makes a choking sound behind him.

"What was that?"

Tony takes off his sunglasses and pockets them in his breast pocket, earning another round of awed murmurs from the other customers.

"There is another customer in line before you, Sir."

He scans the worker in front of him. Barely old enough to work, with natural untamed curls, slight bags under his eyes, pale features, a stainless uniform despite it getting late, and bitten-down fingernails, probably a nervous habit. 

The teen in front of him does not seem nervous thought. No, Tony knows that expression.

"Is that so? And where would that customer be?" he humors the teen, well, the boy who glares up at him from under his brown curls.

"Parker, what is going on here?"

"Hey, Dave. Long time no see," greets Tony, leaning with his hands onto the counter, earning him another scowl from the boy.

"Mr. Stark! What a pleasure to have you at our place again, welcome."

The store manager beams at him, an almost comical contrast to the glare the teen's sending him, who still hasn't begun to type in his order.

"Parker, why isn't Mr. Stark getting what he ordered? Having a hero and celebrity like Tony Stark here at our place might be a bit overwhelming, but you cannot simply freeze."

Turning to Tony, Dave gives an apologetic grin while he puts a hand on Parker's shoulder. "Please be understanding. The boy probably never has seen a celebrity like Iron Man in real life."

Facing Parker, Dave gives the teen a little push. "Go on, get Mr. Stark his order."

The teen doesn't move an inch. 

"It's not his turn yet, Sir."

Tony is about to ask Happy to go outside if he continues making choking sounds whenever the kid decides to open his mouth. Dave's fingers dig into the boy's shoulder, a thin veil of sweat building up on his upper lip in record time.

"I am so sorry, Mr. Stark. I don't know what's gotten into him today. He's usually a very polite young man."

"Parker," Dave turns to the boy with anger growing on his face as he hisses in his ear. "You will take his order now and do it in record time, you hear me?"

Before the teen can answer, the door to the restroom opens, and an older, nicely dressed lady walks up to the counter. Tony watches with morbid fascination how the scowl on the teen's face instantly softens. 

"May I," asks the lady, and Tony steps aside, only now noticing the baby-blue-colored purse lying on the counter. 

"What would you like to order today, Mrs. Moore?"

Dave glances wide-eyed from his employee to Tony and back to the teen, who smiles as he asks the woman what kind of bread she would like her order to go with.

"I'm so sorry. I will take your order myself, Mr. Stark."

"Oh no, don't bother. I haven't been the next one in line. I can wait."

He notices the teen glancing his way, eyes squinting as he hears Tony's words. Interesting. 

After taking the lady's order and going as far as to bring her drinks to her table himself, the kid finally stands in front of Tony again. 

"Welcome to Bill's Diner. What can I do for you, Sir?"

Dave, who hovers near the counter, looked like he was about to get an aneurysm. 

"Two cheeseburgers and a large fry. To go."

Seeing that Tony finally gets his order taken care of, the manager leaves them with the teen angrily punching numbers into the cash register. 

Tony absentmindedly rubs his shoulder while the kid turns around and gets their order packed up. It bruised because, believe it or not, getting hit by a truck hurts even with Iron Man armor. He catches the teen glancing his way, and if it hadn't been this quiet inside the diner, Tony probably wouldn't have heard the mutter the teen let out under his breath as he puts the bag down on the counter. 

"Serves you right, asshole."

Tony blinks. 

Happy chokes.

"Here's your order, Sir."

The teen looks up and stares at him. 

"You did that on purpose."

"Have a nice afternoon, Sir."

Happy grabs his arm and drags him out of the diner, the bag dangling down his other arm.

"Did you hear that?"

Tony tears his arm out of his driver's hold. He loosens his tie before pulling the whole thing over his head and throwing it blindly into the car. He grabs the bag, tears open the wrapping, and takes a gigantic bite of the cheesy and beefy goddess before pointing a finger at the diner.

"Tell me I imagined that."

Happy tiredly wipes a hand over his face. He wordlessly grabs the bag and places it on the backseat, while Tony takes another bite while walking up and down in front of their car, chewing angrily.

"I'll go back. I make that kid apologize and then get him fired."

"Tony, the last thing you need is the news writing about you getting a high schooler fired from a burger place."

"Since when did I care what the news tell about me, Happy?"

"Since you are an Avenger and fiancee of Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries?"

Tony visibly deflates, taking a last bite of his burger before throwing the rest in a bin. 

"Drive us to the tower. I need some time in the lap."

"You need sleep," mutters Happy, holding the door open for his boss and rolling his eyes as he closes it behind him.

One thing is for sure. It probably won't be the last time hearing about the kid named Parker.

Happy looks back at the diner, shaking his head.

"You've done it, kid. You screwed the pooch."

[pugwitharug]

Hello! I really want to make a last legacy request, my LL OC is chubby/fat but I'm not real good to explain how the m4 would react to MC being self conscious/uncomfortable in their body.

(ignore the fact that I've had this in my inbox since literally Christmas--)

(by god I will pull myself out of my writing burnout if it's the last thing I ever do--)

Don't you worry my sweet anon, I got you covered

Content Warning: Mentions of negative body image, no specifics on what their body actually looks like

GN Reader, oof this may be really out of character but we're gonna do it anyways, some hurt and lot of comfort, the one thing all the LIs know how to do is give you love

Felix Iskandar Escellun

Felix isn't one for vanity, but he is one for the gothic aesthetic, so you bet he has one of those huge standing mirrors with the most ornate gold-leafed steel frame next to his wardrobe

It's one of the many gorgeous things in his room (not including him heheheheheheh) and it's something you find yourself staring at a lot

You normally do your best to not look at the actual mirror part, but today, your eyes seem drawn towards your body. You're not wearing anything revealing, your fashion style is more conservative by Earth's standards, but you focus a lot on the parts of your body you hate

Your own eyes feel like claws, rending bleeding wounds through your skin. Voices crawl into the back of your head. Ugly. Disgusting. Unlovable. They're hard to block out

You wrap your arms around your stomach, tears stinging the back of your eyes, and you find yourself unable to tear away from the mirror. As gorgeous as the mirror is, in this moment, you want to smash it into pieces

It's now when Felix walks in and sees you shaking in front of the mirror, the tears now starting to roll down your cheeks. He rushes over to you and pulls his cloak off, throwing it over the mirror and pulling you out of your stupor

Once he's sure the mirror is fully covered, he hugs you tightly, rubbing small circles on your back. He whispers comforting words in your ear, refuting everything the voices in your head are saying as if he can hear them himself

It's sort of true, for him. There were times where he felt disgusted by his body, feeling like he's an imposter in a dead person's body. He knows what you're feeling, and he hates that you feel that way about yourself

If he could take all those feelings out, he would. But for now, he's here to help and tell you how much he loves you

Anisa Anka

Being with Anisa has taught you that she can be strong with her opinions about you. Specifically, all the good opinions she has about you

She knows about your self-image issues, and she doesn't blame you for having them!

.....okay, that sounds a little wrong. She doesn't think that you're being dumb or irrational for having those thoughts. Your feelings are valid, and she's here to help you with that

Case in point: the two of you are doing some shopping through the town. Anisa has a free day, and the two of you just wanted to walk around town and see if anything catches your eye

You walk past a fancy dress shop and stop at the window to gawk at the newest dress. It's a gorgeous baby blue color, with white trim and pleating. It's a dress that you would die to have

As you're imagining yourself wearing the dress, your eyes flick over to your reflection in the mirror, and your dreams slowly begin to shatter. Compared to the beauty that is Anisa and the gorgeous dress, how dare you stand next to them. How dare you think you belong in the same space as them

You look away from the window and start to walk away, heart heavy with regret. Anisa notices and gently grabs your wrist, asking what's wrong

There's nothing wrong, you say. You're just ready to move on

Of course, Anisa knows you better than that. She grabs both of your hands and squeezes them comfortingly, reassuring you that those thoughts in your head? Garbage. And you know where they belong? In the trash, out of your fantastic brain and gorgeous body

And by the gods, she's gonna see you in that dress, and she's gonna see you smile

Sage Lesath

Sage never really had body image issues, to be honest. All of the negative feelings he's had about himself are about his actual self, not about his physical body. That being said, he absolutely understand having those negative thoughts about yourself

One of the main ways those negative thoughts materialize in real life is that you always wear pajamas to go to sleep. Full pants and mostly long-sleeve shirts, only wearing short-sleeves if it's really hot. It's in large contrast to Sage's underwear-only sleep style

He's asked a couple times if you ever wanted to try something like a nightgown or wearing shorts, but you've always turned them down. Since it was clear you weren't comfortable with those ideas, he's left you and your sleepwear choices be

One night, you're both getting ready to sleep. He's taking off his clothes, you're putting yours on--or, at least, you're trying to. For some reason, you can't find your last clean pair of pajamas

Did you accidentally put it in the dirty laundry? You rifle through the dirty clothes, scrunching up your nose a little, but you can't find them

Were they shoved into the back of the closet? You get on your tiptoes and feel all against the wooden back, but you can't feel them

At this point, you start to get a little frantic. You need those pajamas. You can't just sleep without them. If you don't, you'll feel your body, Sage will feel your body. Your actual body, your actual skin. Oh, how disgusted he will be

Sage asks you what's wrong, and you try to collect yourself and explain that you can't find your pajamas, but you can't stop the tears from coming and your voice from breaking. Your arms instinctively wrap around yourself, trying to hide from his worried view

He reaches out and pulls you up against him, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. His soft hair tickles your nose as he whispers reassurances in your ear

He doesn't entirely understand how you can hate such a gorgeous and divine body like yours, but he's here for you nonetheless. Whatever you want him to do to make you comfortable, he will do it, and he will show you his love in his own way

Mainly through worship. He's a worshipper. We all know this

Rime Solano Varela

I'm gonna be honest, I don't think he really cares about your body like that. He cares about you, of course, but he doesn't give that much thought into what you look like. He's more interested in who you are as a person

Even so, he does understand wanting to feel comfortable in your own skin. He wears what he does because it gives the small sensation of being comfortable, and so he wants that for you too

One day, you're doing some spring cleaning around the house and are clearing out your shared closet. You're pulling out your clothes that you don't wear anymore to put in a donate pile to give it to people less fortunate than you

You're separating your Astraea-bought clothes from your Earth-bought clothes, not entirely sure if you can give away your Earth clothes, when your eyes catch one of the tags on your shirt. There's at least three letters on there, and most of them are X's

You look at all of your Earth shirts. All of them say the same thing. All of them have those damn X's and L's. No M's or S's in sight

Compared to Rime's clothes, which better fit his smaller body, yours look...grotesque. They clearly don't belong here. You clearly don't belong here

You grab all your clothes and throw them as far as you can in a fit of rage that fizzles out into sadness. You stand there, shaking, eyes welling up with tears, stuck where you are with the voices in the back of your head

Hearing the commotion, Rime comes in to check on you. Seeing the clothes strewn about, you standing still in the middle of the room, and knowing your struggles with your body image, it isn't hard for him to piece together what happened

He says your name as he walks over to you, and you don't even get to look over at him before he claps both his hands on your cheeks. As you're trying to recover from the shock, he starts talking

He really doesn't give a shit about what you look like, or what clothes you wear. They're insignificant. Literally just pieces of fabric. The only thing he cares about is you, and you need to start doing that too

His normally icy expression softens as he takes a deep breath, trying to switch gears a little. He just wants you to be comfortable in your own body, and he knows it's easier said than done, but he wants to help you

So let's not focus on what you have and go get something you like, okay? He doesn't know how much longer he can stand seeing you look at yourself like that

[mysticwolfshadows]

Taken - Zutara - Part 78

First / Previous / Next / Masterpost

"I don't know," Aang said. "It was one thing doing it to Ozai... He was evil. But if you're right, and something is wrong with her, it doesn't... feel right."

Zuko sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I know. But the only way she can get help is if she can't hurt anyone. And the only way she won't be able to hurt anyone is if she's restrained or can't bend."

The Avatar scratched at the back of his neck. "I know you're right, but..."

"Please, just think about it," Zuko pleaded.

Aang sighed. "No. You're right. It's the only way we can help her."

Zuko wasn't sure if he could watch. His chest ached, as he and Aang walked down various halls to where Azula was being kept. Suki and Ty Lee were outside. The Kyoshi Warriors had agreed to stay in the Fire Nation, as Zuko's personal guard, until his reign was stabilized. Ty Lee had been interested in joining, and Suki had been interested in adding chi-blocking to the warriors training.

Suki eyed them, but moved to open the door.

The room was plain, simple. Inside, Azula was wrapped in a straitjacket, sitting in a chair. When they stepped inside, Azula turned her head to look at them, a wild grin on her lips.

"Oh Zuzu!" she cooed, head flopping back. "And your little Avatar friend. I'd bow but..." She wiggled, making the clasp of the jacket clink together.

"Azula," Zuko started, slowly stepping forward. "We... We need to do something. That you're not going to like."

She narrows her eyes. "What? Going to take my bending like you took everything else?" Zuko looks away, and her eyes go wide. "No... No! You can't do this to me!"

She started to thrash, knocking over her chair and hitting the ground. Zuko rushed forward, trying to stop her from hurting herself, but she kicked her legs out. He pulled back, only to dive down as she starts to scream. Fat tears build in her eyes, as he wraps his arms around her, holding her still.

"Azula," he tries, only so her to try and headbutt him. "'Zula, please! You're going to hurt yourself!"

Aang was backing away, eyes wide as he watched the two siblings struggling on the floor.

"She put you up to this!" Azula was screaming. "She always hated my bending! That it makes me a monster!"

"Azula, who are you talking about?! No one's here!"

"Mother!" Azula screamed to the ceiling. "Mother, this is all your fault! You turned them against me!"

Zuko's heart clenched, and he squeezed his arms around his sister. "She's not here, Azula. Please, I'm trying to help you. Please, Azula!"

"You hate me! She turned you against me! She turned them all against me!"

She was still screaming, but she had stopped thrashing. Zuko lifted his head, turned to look at Aang.

"Please," Zuko pleaded. "Please, Aang. Help my sister."

The young Avatar took a shaky breath, before stepping forward. One hand went to Azula's forehead, as the other to the center of her sternum. The room filled with blue and orange light, and Zuko had to close his eyes to shield himself from it. Even from behind his eyelids, he could see the color, until everything was blue, before it finally faded.

Opening his eyes, he looked down at his sister, limp in his hold. Then, he looked up at Aang. The Avatar nodded.

Releasing a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, Zuko reached down. He opened clasps and helped pull Azula's arms from the strait jacket. When it fell to the floor, he turned to face her.

"Azula-"

"Get out."

The words were barely above a whisper, softer than she had ever spoken in her life.

He would respect her wishes. Slowly, he stood, grabbing the jacket from the floor. He moved to the door, Aang right behind him. Still, he paused.

"I'm sorry," he said, turning to look at his sister. She had turned herself away, starting to huddle into the corner. "But no matter how messed up our relationship is, you're still my sister. You'll always be my sister. And, if you want to talk, I'll come right away. I'll come see you tomorrow."

He stepped out, closing the door so Azula was alone, like she wanted. For now.

"Was that really the right thing to do?" Aang asked. "Taking her bending?"

"Azula used her bending and status to intimidate people," Ty Lee said. She was looking at the door. "To manipulate them so she wasn't alone. Now... Well, she has neither. Maybe she can finally start to see that she doesn't need to manipulate people to keep them around?"

Zuko let out a breath. "I hope you're right, Ty Lee."

First / Previous / Next / Masterpost

[leviismybby]

Tw: rant about ship wars under the cut!!!

Now that attack on titan is over, can we stop with the ship wars about Levi?? I thought that people would leave one another alone esp since the final instead all I see on twitter is toxic shipper wars and the old debate of "who did Levi Ackerman love romantically in canon?"

That is not what pissed me off since that has been going on for years, what pisssed me off is people sending direct HATE at Isayama and the Mappa team because of a ship they deluded themselves into thinking it's canon. I can count on my fingers how many people said that Isayama was "queerbaiting". Seriously people GET A GRIP.

TikTok isn't better in this either, all I see all the fucking time is Eruri and Levihan shippers down each other throats for no other reason than the fact that both parties have somehow convinced themselves that their ship is canon. Even worse is the fact that people on there are spoiled so much that they send hate to oc x characters or slefships, y'all need help. When someone doesn't ship with anyone, you all attack them with "proof" and subtext or whatever it is and call them delusional, talk about irony...

Next point. If I see one more person hate on either Erwin or Hange because of the ships, I will rip someone's hair out. It is not either of the character's fault and you hating on a character because of your fanon ship is nothing but stupid. Characters should never get hate bc of ships, esp not FANON ones. And don't even get me started on the hate Petra gets because of it all.

And finally, Levi isn't your tool and his worth doesn't lay in your fucking ship. All the time all I see when Levi is shipped with either is just Levi being so degraded. It makes me uncomfortable and it butchers Levi's character so much.

Why does it matter what his sexuality is?? Why does it matter if he is a sub or a dom??? None of these things are important about Levi. It's like he has become this puppet in this play you all are playing and you all are making Levi's worth based off of your ship. Of course this doesn't apply to all shippers, just those who are toxic and let themselves hate people bc of a ship...

Stop with this bullshit and ship in peace. You don't like Levihan, Eruri, whoever block the tags and move on ffs. At the end of the day Levi doesn't have a canonical love interest and its totally okay to ship your ship and admit that they aren't canon. Stop bullying each other and other people on the internet over factional ships.

[britt-kageryuu]

It's a beautiful afternoon, and Leo is replaying Luigi's Mansion 3.

Leo still had on his astronaut unicorn shirt, black pants, and bandana, though he switched the shoes for unicorn slippers. His model was lounging on a big blue beanbag chair on a virtual set that looked like his train car. River is laying near his head.

"So I don't really remember much past some beginning parts, except I hated some of the later parts when trying to get the Elevator Buttons. I think I broke a controller, or maybe just the buttons." Leo says as he maneuvers Luigi to the next objective, "Like where you had to guess which ghost dancer had the button, with the slightest difference in appearance."

A swimming turtle animation goes across the screen as River reads the message attached, "Hey Blue, did you guys have a great Halloween, and Dia de Los Muertos? Did you do anything special?"

Leo thought it over for a second, "Well for Halloween Red went with Star and her brother Trick-or-treating, Dee played Left 4 Dead with some Co-Workers,then they went out for candy. Meanwhile, Mandarin and I cooked up some dishes and treats for the Offrenda." Leo was preening, apparently he did a good job on the food.

"Though we technically honor our ancestors, we really only put the thing that specific ones liked. Great Great Gram-Gram, Gramma, Gramps, and some of the less annoying relatives." Leo looks over his shoulder at something, "You know why we don't honor you! Remember why Pops jumped to America once he reacted adulthood!!"

Leo readjusts his sitting position, and moved Luigi to a different floor.

"We also stopped into our favorite Run of the Mill restaurant to grab their famous Pizza. Because what is Halloween without good pizza? They were packed, but Mandarin was already told he couldn't stay to help by the Boss Man."

Leo stopped talking to focus on some ghosts that were blocking his way to the next button. "HOLD STILL AND LET ME VACUUM YOU!!!"

"Anywhizzle, Pops had an interesting time helping with trick-or-treaters, old man doesn't go out much anymore, but he does love helping our family friends. We don't really have a traditional home that's easy to get to, so he went to help out April's family."

"On a very different note. Why in the world are so many male ictional characters for myths, so Stupidly Hot!?" Leo suddenly says a bit loudly while looking to the side, and with a wide smile, "Like seriously. I was looking at the art for this series, and hoo boy, why're most of the guys way to Hot for being a fictional person!!"

The audience was very confused on why Leo seemed to be trying to annoy someone off screen, but no one wanted to ask why.

Though it was interesting when Leo started naming different fictional guys.

"I mean, I don't know about you but why do they draw Son Wukong soooooo-" He gets cut off by something hitting his head. Leo glares toward where the item came from.

"Dishonor! Dishonor to the disgraceful ancestors!!" He shouts off screen.

Leo goes back to the games, and continues to talk about fictional characters he had had crushes on. He added that his Boyfriend knows about this, told Leo his own fictional crushes and they traded stories of why they had them.

The audience and chat ask for some of these stories, because why wouldn't they want to know these stories.

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

Masterpost

Technically a follow up of my last Leo Post.

[berrypass-de-murdler]

About the Murdle fandom. (long post)

I have made vent posts before, but this is less of a vent post and more of explaining the specifics of the situation, which I have not yet shared my perspective on publicly. I know it's a long post but please, please for my sake read it.

I joined Tumblr because I wanted to be a part of the Murdle fandom.

It started with Raven. She was the only person on DeviantArt (where I started) other than me who posted Murdle art, so I summoned the courage to talk to her. I'm glad I did. She ended up one of my best friends, not just in the fandom, but period.

After a while, I more or less left DeviantArt and moved entirely to Tumblr to focus on the Murdle cartoon. For a while, she was the only reader, until I was joined by RoyalleBlue, my best friend on Tumblr.

And I would also like to shoutout kirvee, electricskelecomics, foxglove.woods, and murdleandmarot for providing support

Raven invited me to the Detective Fanclub Discord server. I was extremely nervous coming in but was welcomed by electricskelecomics and a few others. I wasn't used to a public server and had intense anxiety, but was slowly warming up to talking.

Eventually I was comfortable enough to talk regularly about Murdle. Raven posted AU information about Logico, and I jokingly called her out for 'hurting my babi boi'. Another user suddenly publicly called me out for 'infantilizing' characters, completely humiliating me. They gave an indirect apology (through Raven) apologizing because they 'knew I was fragile'. I left the server, to then which a mod followed me to DMs and criticized me for leaving for a long while until I stopped responding and they finally let it go.

To this day I am very uncomfortable when the server is brought up and often fall into another depression cycle.

I generally felt better here on Tumblr. Even though I didn't get much attention, I still had Blue and Raven.

I however seemed to unknowingly be making an enemy. A prominent user in the Tumblr Murdle fandom who I had never spoken to directly but had still liked the posts of and who indirectly said I was 'very cool' at one point began completely avoiding me, although I'm not sure exactly when it started. Initially I figured they just didn't read the series, which is fine, but they also ignored my art while usually liking and reblogging every other Murdle art post. This kept increasing to the point where they no longer interacted with Blue simply for being friends with me, and refused to acknowledge art that I was even tagged in.

At this point I could tell that it was personal, and yet I still don't have the faintest idea of what caused the grudge, as again, I never spoke to this person. They blocked me at one point before unblocking me the next day (and still avoiding me). Eventually I couldn't take it anymore, I sent them one non-aggressive message explaining why I felt like I had to block them and did. It hurt me, because I knew this was a very nice person otherwise and someone I wanted to be friends with initially.

It doesn't matter if it's not direct, targeted avoidance hurts. Every time someone other than me, Blue, or Raven made a Murdle post now, I'd get a harsh reminder of the fact that I was being ignored on purpose.

The depression I've gotten from all this is more severe than one might expect. I just wanted to join a community with the people who also love my new favorite thing. Murdle was the only thing making me happy through a dark time, and now it just makes me think of the people who berated me on Discord and avoided me on Tumblr.

I hate thinking of the book like this. I find it, needless to say, amazing in every way which is why I dedicate so much time and effort to it. Designing characters isn't easy. Writing isn't easy. I only wanted some appreciation for my efforts. I don't mind if people aren't interested in the cartoon. But the personal offenses are getting to be too much.

Thank you for reading this. I want to be free to continue my work that I love making so much.

[notyoursterotypicalnerd]

In my instagram stories (and reposted onto my twitter) I put up a piece about Henry Cavill's pregnancy announcement.

Don't get me wrong, I'm exicted to hear that his going to be a dad, as well as happy for him. Like, any fan just wants a celeb they like to be happy..right??

But the past 48hours-ish have proven a few things..

a few days ago, when I went to tag HC in a post. Noticed he had blocked people from tagging him. So, that looked like he (or someone in team) had planned to stop being tagged in unnecessary hate before the pregnancy announcement. Unfortunately Natalie is now bombarded with posts about HC instead.

Announcing the pregnancy via a pap walk is very weird. It doesn't feel like him. I know that realistically celebrities have NO RIGHT to show us their personal lives but when does HC ever announce anything with paparazzi around? He normally chucks news up on instagram. So, why wasn't a quick pic posted with "FYI life's changing"..kinda post? Also don't know about you BUT having Natalie be unprotected for a quick second while he gets in car while security helps her is just a odd move publicly. No,i'm not anti-Natalie. I just think something about a pap walk and not staying with her until she gets into the car is just an odd thing for him.

i pray for the sake of Natalie and Henry that they don't publicly post any details about the pregnancy/ or birth EVER. Like for their sake and mental state, they don't need fans twisting unnecessary hate.

Speaking on NO social media. I pray to god that baby never gets any public social media, let alone is thrusted into the public eye. In the past few days all i've seen is negativity and my god, that baby did nothing to any of you. Hell it's still in the womb. Why are you mad at a baby? Why are you wishing something bad happens?

HC has had a huge spike in his career since Witcher and has pretty much been saturated in the public eye since than. Having a baby is no easy task. Sure, he has money to afford nannies etc.. but like man, it's his first baby. I'd hate to hear that due to work he was away from the pregnancy and not being able to process the scans, gender reveal etc.. I'd hate to hear that due to work that he missed the birth. I get a pregnancy birth isn't ever a man's favourite thing to see BUT like..you still hold her hand, right? I'd hate to hear that due to work that he missed the baby's first while it grew up. Anyone whose got kids know how fast life can get with them. One minute their in the womb, next their 12 than 18 and all of a sudden 21. Where'd the time go? Anyway.. Like I said, I'm happy for them both and wish Henry and Natalie a huge congrats.